#(not helped by her nictitating membranes either)

[rxttenfish]

also yes the big long noodle in front of miranda's eyes is a salt organ. its specifically to remove excess salt from her body, which is necessary as a saltwater animal, and its basically a modified tear duct.

the fun thing about her salt organ, though, is that merfolk can launch/spit the salt on command. its not really an adaptation, just a quirk of their biology, but there ARE merfolk who can and would spit that salt at landfolk as an insult. since it comes out basically as semi-liquid hypersaline eye goop, it CAN get into other people's eyes and stings like a motherfucker.

unfortunately, miranda would never do this. because shes a proper and polite little princess. and its kinda gross.

[ssstardust3001]

Developing a species. :> As a treat, I'm calling them sarduict(s). (Literally just put a lot of letters together bros.)

Info under read more

They are desert-dwelling beings that are warm-blooded endurance hunters able to easily cool themselves off with a complex internal system so they could keep running effectively rather than waste water by sweating. They are omnivorous though and can rely on roots and other plants when the hunting is bad. They are also known to sit in the rare rain showers or fog to absorb water through their skin.

Adults of either sex have "antlers" that are for display. The antlers are just modified feathers that serve no defense purposes. They have cyan blood that glows in the dark and are able to change color like octopuses to blend into their environment.

They have a dog-like intelligence (which is disputed, their true level of intelligence isn't fully known) and are a pack species that lives family groups. They are also shown to care for their elder and disabled members, often adopting orphans of their species. They communicate through a kind of telepathy to coordinate their actions while hunting and they can detect the minds of other species which makes them difficult to catch unaware. They communicate through a sort of code over longer distances through their bioluminescent tails which can blink on and off. They can be domesticated and trained to do tasks such as hunting.

They are very good parents and hold their eggs within pouches which both males and females possess. Their young then hatch and are able to use their prehensile tails to hang onto their pack mates's tails for transport if their parents cannot carry all of them in their arms. However, they usually only lay 1 or 2 eggs at a time.

They are able to open their jaws to 90 degrees at the widest and possess venomous fangs containing a neurotoxin to paralyze their prey. These fangs are on their second set of jaws which also aid in holding onto prey and guide food into their throats. They can control if they want to envenomate their target or not.

They have five fingers on human-like hands and five toes. Their toes possess hooves at the tips much like tapirs. Their fingers are quite dexterous. They can use simple tools and weave nests. The male actually initiates courtship with a female by first weaving her a nest.

They smell through nostrils like dogs, however they can also smell much like snakes do with forked tongues and a Jacobson's organ. Their nostrils can close to prevent breathing in dust, and they have nictitating membranes that protect their eyes from sand and the suns of their world. They can hold their breath for an hour if they are motionless during sandstorms and always have a sense where up is as well as the general directions of north, south, east, and west.

They can make rather throaty, yet musical vocalizations to communicate over long distances and even sometimes sing just for the hell of it or to even help calm their young who communicate through chirps. Females can be seen initiating courtship through song, and the male would try to copy. However, they can also mimic humanoid speech much like ravens of Earth.

Their ears are rather long, but are pressed against their body, blending in. It is not fully known why they sometimes hide their ears even if they aren't threatened, however it is suspected that they are incredibly sensitive to sound.

Young are covered in feathers which insulate them against cold desert nights when they are too large to remain in their parents' pouches. They lose them when they reach full maturity.

They are immune to the poison of the le-matya among other venomous and poisonous species, and their blood can be used as a general antitoxin in a pinch.

They are known to come to the aid of humanoids stranded in the desert, and an attack from one is almost unheard of unless it is alone due to being sick. When sick with a general disease, an individual will tend to isolate themselves, but remain in the pack and under its care. However, if it is life threatening, it will use the last of its strength to abandon its pack and wander into the desert to die alone.

They mourn their dead as well using complex songs while burying them in sand. Each family unit has a specific mourning song as well as specific greeting songs. When meeting another family group there is usually little to no conflict and they use that opportunity for adult members to court members from the other group. Males usually join the female's family group.

They tend to be rather illusive and shy creatures in general, but they are drawn to music.

They can also stand completely upright in order to view things easier with their sharp eyes that can see in multiple wavelengths and in more colors than humans. Males are a little smaller. On average though, when fully upright, they are around 7 feet tall.

It is speculated that they could possibly eventually evolve into an intelligent space-fairing species in the future.

Honestly they're like dinosaurs mixed with dogs and ravens that have hooves and pouches. They aren't mammals though since they don't produce milk.

Their facial markings are also different between individuals.

[10blue10]

Polar Furies

Name: Polar Furies Class: Strike / Tracker Fire Type: oxygen-acetylene shaped charge Weight: 885.46 kg / 1952 lbs Length: 10.78 m / 35 feet Wingspan: 17.86 m / 59 feet Habitat: arctic tundra  Diet: fish, marine mammals and occasionally birds Inspired by: polar bears, snowy owls and cuttlefish Physical Appearance

Polar Furies are larger than their Night Fury cousins. They have several adaptations to the arctic, including large webbed paws for walking on snow and swimming, smaller and rounder auricles to help reduce heat loss, narrower and more pointed tail-fins, shorter dorsal spines and a layer of blubber.

Their scales are actually semi-transparent, and their coloration comes from melanosomes in their skin. These are cells that produce melanin, specifically the black variety. Their ‘default’ colour is grey with white dapples, but slight changes to the shape of the melanosomes can make Polar Furies turn white (for camouflaging against snow) to almost black (for camouflage at night).

Whilst they have conscious control over this, it also happens instinctively. In fact, during the polar night their melanosomes automatically change to ‘dark mode’, as it were, and during this time they can and have been mistaken for Night Furies. Their eyes have no melanin and are almost always blue. They have a nictitating membrane that protects and camouflages their eyes.

Behaviour and Personality

Polar Furies are not particularly sociable dragons, due to their habitats limited resources. Females will stay with their offspring, of course, and siblings often stick together, but for the most part these dragons prefer to be solitary. They will either fly away from or drive off rivals, depending on their mood. Polar Furies are wary of other dragons and tend to be aggressive towards them.

However, in spring Polar Furies will seek each other out to find mates. Their mating season is timed so that the eggs hatch at the height of the summer bounty. This ensures there is plenty of food for both mother and hatchlings.

Polar Furies are monogamous. Couples exhibit courtship behaviours such as flight displays, strutting and rapid colour changes. After copulation, the female digs a sort of burrow and lays her eggs inside. They are insulated, and the couple will take turns to guard the nest until the eggs hatch. The hatchlings remain in the burrow until they grow too big and come out to learn to fly.

They are highly intelligent, with a great memory for when and where their favourite prey, seals, come on land. Despite not living in flocks or packs, Polar Furies can be quite playful in each others company. They will wrestle, slide on their bellies, and pop up out of seal breathing holes to startle each other.

Strengths and Weaknesses

They are strong swimmers, able to hold their breath for two minutes. Polar Furies, much like polar bears, often sneak up on resting seals in the water rather than attacking them from the air. This is because their bulkier size makes them less manoeuvrable fliers, and so they usually can’t pull off the classic dive bomb manoeuvre that Night Furies are so well known for.

Polar Furies are capable of taking on large opponents or prey, such as narwhals and belugas. They rely on their firepower for defence, but when pressed can and will fight directly. However, they’re not invincible. If injured in certain ways by a walruses tusk or a narwhals horn, it could impact their ability to fly and to find food, thus putting them at risk of starvation.

They are capable of echolocation, though not as well as Night Furies. Instead, this species relies more on sight and smell to find prey or avoid danger. Their sense of smell is acute enough to find prey from up to a kilometre away. This is why they could also be placed in Tracker Class instead of/as well as Strike.

[bewitchingbaker]

Sometimes Beth needs to be a sweater. The kind that you tie in front of yourself, while the body of it lies down your back. Her arms hang over his shoulders, she is kneeling on a stool behind him while he kneads bread. Normally in the kind of warm space needed to make dough rise such closeness would be nigh unbearable but the little witch uses her command of elemental forces to help foster a much cooler, much more pleasant environment between them. The space they occupy is just under seventy degrees while the rest of the kitchen is quite hotter.

She presses her cheek to his shoulder blade, lets her eyes close half way, which is how she blinks and sometimes sleeps. It gives the impression that she might be missing some nictitating membrane like some of her kin have, though she never personally brings it up. Nuzzling the space between his shoulders her sharp sense of smell picks up a melange of scents; Dove deodorant and the original soap bar, which might explain why Chris’ skin is often so soft. Just above that clean freshness, there’s a layer of something that she would call water-woods. She can’t tell if its palo santo or drift wood because it is that subtle, but there’s a hint of salt and maybe lotus or water lily too. Whatever the scent, it’s neither terribly masculine nor feminine. Like a certain porridge in a certain fable, it’s just right for him. Right now he also smells creamy like butter, warm like the brick oven, a touch of yeast from the dough. Sometimes he smells like cupcakes; vanilla and lemon. Cinnamon and lei-flower and sandalwood when she ends up leaving her own scent behind.

Chris smells like sunshine and spring rain. He smells like wood-and-leather spaces and the unique smell that comes with books. He smells like slushies and heat radiating from sidewalks and summers spent indoors because it’s too hot to be outside, the human body ~witch or not~ cannot moderate those soaring temperatures. He smells like pine forests and hikes up in the mountains and camping under the stars. He smells like fairy tales and sad song playlists and popcorn leaving residue on their fingertips. Chris smells like every good moment, and he softens all of the bad ones.

“You smell good.”

Somethings would never change. It wasn’t that long ago that the baker and nurse were in the same position. Chris used to hate spending his after school time kneading dough, no doubt due to the combined heat of the desert state and the kitchen.  A focused frown would always rest on the young man’s face, doing his best to make sure the dough was perfect less he get yelled at again. 

Somehow, Beth had a certain intuition about Chris’s mood.

Perhaps it was due to their shared status as the family quiet kid. Maybe it was the fact that they spent so much time together, she could pick up on his little tells. Either way, it always lead to her serving as a comforting sweater of sorts. Even with the past hellfire temperature of the kitchen, Chris found some comfort in her embrace. 

Even with the growing blush on his face.

A habit that would still appear in his 20′s. 

Memories of the Luna family home came to mind. Despite living in a 2 bathroom home, he still had to share his bathroom with his aunts and older sister. No doubt due to their room being closer to Alice and Angela’s side of the house. 13 and still figuring out what he liked. Anxious eyes stare down the various options in the bathroom.

A bar of Dove. Lavender and Chamomile body wash (belonging to Alice), a brand reading ‘Vanilla with Sprinkles and Magic’ (Angela of course) and finally an Argan Oil body wash. Decisions. Decisions.

‘People like a man who smells nice kid, trust me.’

‘Listen here, mijo. The ladies love a man who always smell fresh. Take it from ya tio, Camillio’

Important advice from two men that the young Luna looks up to. Despite picking the average bar of soap, he makes a call to try his sister’s soap to see if maybe that’ll add a nice fragrance. He would make sure to pay her for its use later. A decision that would lead to many compliments from the family, classmates and most importantly...Beth. 

He takes a moment to relax in her embrace, a relaxed sigh escaping his lips. 

Just as she takes in his scent, he remembers how relaxing she was when close. Memories of summer trips to sacred springs. Perfectly cool water and slushies from the 711 near her house (the best one in Arizona if you asked him). A hint of lemon and just a dash of mint, no doubt from the special lemonade blend that he loved so much. 

Of course, the hint of the ocean’s saltwater. She did return from a trip back home and he knows that she spent her time surfing the best waves. A passion he’s always loved seeing her explore. With another sigh, he’s reminded of the most important aroma.

Home.

“Gracias mi amor,” he replies. “You smell amazing.”

[ @brooklynislandgirl ]

[astral-glass]

I don't know if you said It already, but May i ask if the Volcurin do have certain extra features they gain off of the bird species they're based on? I Hope to be making sense

I understand, and yes they do have a lot of unique features that come from their avian-like anatomy! Here are some of their features: - High affinity for UV radiation

Volcurins do technically have hollow bones, but they’re extremely strong and not as prone to breaking as you’d expect. Either way, Volcs need a massive amount of Vitamin D and calcium to maintain these bones, muscles, and feathers (keratin). Because of this affinity, most volcurins are darker skinned. This adaptation also prevents skin damage from flying in direct sun.

- Unique Eyesight

Like birds of prey, Volcurins have incredible eyesight that gives them a much stronger range of view than humans do. They see the same light spectrum, but can see detail clearly from high above the ground. As a flying creature, their eyes have a unique ‘tear’ fluid that evaporates much slower than human tears, and they have an extra layer to their eye to make up for the lack of a nictitating membrane (this layer also affects their iris, so they have a huge variety of eye colors)

- Special Larynx

As we know, birds have very complex voice boxes that allow for a broad range of vocalizations. Volcurins have a sort of combination of a bird and human larynx. This allows them to make a range of noises, at a greater range of pitch. They can also get extremely loud, to allow communication during flight. Volcs use these vocalization abilities in their native speech.

- Control of Oxygen use and organ use

Volcurins have the involuntary ability to slow their organ functionality and oxygen use, specifically for flying at high altitudes. They can survive at ~25,000-30,000 feet in the air due to their ability to restrict their oxygen intake and glide on currents. (Yes this means a commercial plane could hit a volcurin)

- 6th sense

Not as cool as it sounds, but volcs have a very keen sense for pressure change. As any flying creature, air pressure is important and allows for proper flight. This also allows volcs to tell the weather forecast. Avi uses it to dive with her eyes closed and pull up in time to not hit the ground. She likes the thrill.

- Sharp teeth

A more simple adaptation. While fangs are useful for eating meats and showing aggression, Volcs have their teeth mainly to help them preen (replaces beaks). They use their sharper canines to dislodge pesky quills.

- Other general bird things?

They molt normally but also have Molting Seasons, which is a week or so of full molts of the flight feathers and base feathers (it’s itchy and it sucks), Bright and colorful feathers are more attractive, and men tend to dress up their appearance more (they sing and dance too but less formally). Some volcs have different wing shapes that give them different flight patterns, they’re very horny.

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Commie, can you do a fic of the BN thieves + any other thieves from Super Sentai/Kamen Rider?

Absolutely I can! And since you haven’t given me a specific prompt, let’s say that

U is for unknown

Balance isn’t, like, a suspicious guy. In fact, he’d generally describe himself as friendly. He likes people! They like him, too! Good feelings all around. But when he spots a flicker of a red tailcoat that definitely shouldn’t be in one of the back corridors of this weird little vault satellite, he maybe gets a little worried.

So he says, “Hey, love cobra.”

“Please don’t call me that in public, Balance.”

“Who’s in public? Just you, me, and twenty dead security cameras, baby. Anyway, you love it.”

Naaga stares fixedly into space for a moment, which is pretty nice, since that blue blush of his is so cute. “Notwithstanding my enjoyment of your pet names, they are not appropriate in public.”

Balance sighs theatrically. “Whatever you say, baby. Did you also see a LupinRanger just now or do I need to re-calibrate?”

“I have not seen the LupinRangers recently.”

“Well, that’s worrying, not gonna lie.”

“But my eyesight is not as acute as yours.” Naaga’s tongue flickers out for a moment. “I can smell them, though.”

“Oh. Good, no re-calibrating on the menu for the evening. Still worried, though! You think this thing Lucky needs is one of their whatsits?”

“I strongly doubt it, given that they are not from this universe.” Naaga scents the air again. “They are this way.”

They catch up with the Lupins after two corridors, and the first thing that happens is that Umika sees them, makes a happy noise, and bounds over to kiss Naaga on the cheek. Then she does the same to Balance, interrupting him in the middle of, “Hey, hey, don’t go kissing on a guy’s--oh. Hey, fancy meeting you guys here! Wait, isn’t he a cop?”

Umika frowns. “Isn’t who a--wait, you mean Noël? No. I mean. Kind of? He’s with us, it’s fine.”

“You’d better not be here after a Lupin Collection piece, though.” Kairi’s hanging back, although he doesn’t look unhappy to see them. “We’ve got dibs.”

Naaga’s nictitating membranes flicker shut for a moment over his eyes. “I am certain that we’re looking for different things, the Lupin Collection is not native to this universe.” He flashes them a brief, awkward smile. “Also, hello.”

Tooma nods. Noël Not-A-Cop waves, smiling, and says, “Bonjour, mes amis, I was sort of hoping we’d get to see you again. How have you been? How’s your handsome friend?” He’s also the one who starts walking again, and since it’s also in the direction that Balance and Naaga are going in, it seems reasonable to walk along with him.

Naaga nods in his direction. “We’ve been well. You will have to be more specific.”

“Yeah, all of our friends are pretty cute.” Balance skips out in front of the group and walks backwards facing them, relying on his sensors to keep him from tripping. “You gotta say which one you mean.”

Noël looks amused. “Fair enough. The very tall one, with the red coat and the dramatic attitude.”

“Tsurugi! He’s doing ok, I’ll tell him you asked about him.”

“Please do.” Noël looks past Balance’s shoulder. “Ah, good, I think this is the storeroom we were looking for, we’ll bid you adieu here.”

Balance glances at the door, but Naaga beats him to saying, “This is also the storeroom we’re looking for.”

“Ah,” Tooma mutters. “That’s reassuring.”

“Isn’t it?” Balance flashes him a thumbs-up, which will either make him feel extra reassured or weirded out, and either option works under the circumstances. “Let’s go in together! Like a team! Good times.”

They open the door and crowd through it all together.

The storeroom is entirely bare of anything interesting to steal, let alone Lucky’s whatsit or the Lupin things. Not that it’s a boring room, though, because there are already people in it, and it only takes a second for Balance to take in two of them and say, “Hey, baby, isn’t that Stinger’s pirate buddy and his girlfriend? The scary girlfriend, not the princess one.”

Naaga nods, as on Balance’s other said Kairi visibly brightens up and says, “Hey, Marvelous, what are you doing he--you again.”

Because Stinger’s pirate buddy and his scary girlfriend are having sort of a staring contest with a third human, who’s got bleached hair and a white jacket and a big blue gun. He glances at Kairi and says, “Oh good, it’s the brat. I hope you brought--there you are, Nicky, nice to see you.”

And Noël says, pleasantly, “Bonjour, Dion, fancy meeting you here.”

“This has gotten overly complicated,” Naaga and Tooma say simultaneously, to Balance’s delighted cry of, “Jinx! So who’s this guy?”

“Daiki! Hi!” Umika bumps Naaga with her shoulder. “Naaga, Balance, this is Kaitou Daiki, he’s also a thief, he’s sort of Noël’s ex? And he’s a, a something, a Kamen Rider! That’s it!”

“No shit?” Balance flickers his eyes, just for dramatic effect. “We met a couple of those once. Nice guys. One of them had a suit with hair on it, fun look.”

Daiki nods to them, still watching Captain Marvelous out of the corner of his eye. “There are a few of us around. Anyway, evening, Nicky, Nicky’s friends, I’m assuming these two are also Sentai?”

Naaga nods shortly. “We are Kyuurangers.”

“Yeah, I thought so, you guys have that look.” Daiki glances around. “So, anyone happen to know why we’re all here? I’m supposed to be able to find an interesting treasure here, a Dark Mirror, I was going to give it to Tsukasa as a present, but I’m really not seeing anything. Starting to think I might have been misled.”

Tooma huffs. “We may have all been misled, I don’t see a Lupin Collection piece here.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Balance scans the room. “Definitely nothing in here like the whatsit Lucky wanted us to get, the, uh, baby, help me out here.”

Naaga pats him on the shoulder. “The Heracles Cape.”

“That’s the one, yeah.”

“So we’ve all been tricked.” Daiki eyes Marvelous and Luka. “Marvelous, I hope you know that if you’re the reason I’m here, I’m going to punch you.”

Captain Marvelous shrugs. “I’m not exactly happy to see you either, Kaitou. No, I’m not why you’re here, I’m just along for the ride with Luka so she doesn’t get kidnapped by evil armor again.”

Luka huffs. “Shut up, Marvelous, that was one time. I was promised a ruby the size of my fist.”

Balance bounces on the ends of his feet, just to make his earrings swing a little and get everyone’s attention. “So who got us all here, then? That’s the big fun question of the moment.”

And a quiet voice says, “I’d be happy to answer that for you.”

Everyone jumps and turns towards the back corner of the room, where there’s yet another person waiting. She’s wearing a black dress and boots with lots of pink details and pink gloves, and her hair is bright pink too. Balance is pretty sure it’s a wig, but he’s not positive, he’s not great on hominid hair.

Luka squints at her and then turns to Marvelous. “The Go-Busters didn’t have a Pink.”

“I didn’t think they did--” Marvelous pulls out his cell phone changer thing, taps a button, and says, “Gai, did the Go-Busters have a Pink?”

There’s a faint crackle from the phone, and then a voice Balance vaguely recognizes says, “Not really? There was someone who called herself Pink Buster, but she was a civilian criminal. Basically a cosplayer." A pause. "Why? Who's dressing as Pink Buster?”

“We’ll get back to you on that. Thanks, Gai.” Marvelous hangs up the call, but doesn’t put the phone away. “Who the hell are you, and why are you dressing up as a fake Sentai?”

Naaga says, slowly, “We don’t appreciate being tricked.”

Kairi and Daiki say, much more succinctly, “What the fuck?” and then glare at each other.

Not-Actually-Pink-Buster nods. “That’s understandable. I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you all here. I require your assistance in a matter of some...” a dramatic pause, which Balance appreciates, before, “delicacy.”

And--it clicks. Balance nearly shoots off the ground in delight, and then throws up his hands in a wide enough gesture that it gets everyone looking at him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You called a bunch of thieves together--”

“I’m not a thief,” Marvelous says, sounding irritated. “Luka’s a thief. I’m a pirate.”

Tooma looks unimpressed. “The difference being?”

“Thieves sneak and snatch. Pirates smash and grab. Totally different approach.”

Daiki rolls his eyes.

Balance senses that he’s rapidly losing control of the moment, so as soon as he can he barrels on ahead. “You called a bunch of thieves and pirates together under mysterious circumstances in a weird place and you’re showing up wearing a disguise. And saying things like, ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you all here.’“

“She said exactly that.”

“I know, baby, I’m being dramatic.”

“Ah. Carry on, please, I enjoy your dramatics.”

“Thanks, love you too, anyway! Did you pull us all here for a job? Is it a heist? Are you trying to get us to team up to do a heist?”

Pink Lady opens her mouth--

--but Balance is now fizzing with so much energy that his earrings are jangling. “Because I am here for it, pink lady, I’ve always wanted to do a heist! Are we robbing a bank? Wait, no, not sexy enough, please tell me it’s a casino.”

Everyone’s staring at him. It feels fantastic. Pink Lady gapes at him and then says, slowly, “It’s. Ah. A museum, actually.”

He punches the air. “Hot damn! Lady, I could kiss you. I mean, I’m not gonna, I don’t have lips and I’m pretty big on monogamy, but if it wasn’t for that then I could. A heist!"

Naaga nods and says, "I am also enthusiastic to participate."

He even sounds enthusiastic. Balance isn't sure he's ever felt so loved. "The BN Thieves are gonna do a heist!”

He and Naaga do the pose. Umika, Noël, and Daiki all clap politely. It’s amazing. It’s the best day of his life.

Kairi also looks pretty thrilled, but then he gestures to Daiki and says, “A heist sounds great, but I’m not working with that guy.”

Daiki sighs. “I’m not thrilled about the idea of working with you either, brat. Flattered to be asked, though,” to Pink Lady.`

“Oh, come on, guys, a heist! A museum heist! It doesn’t get any cooler than this!”

Tooma’s raising his eyebrows high enough that they’re actually visible over his mask. “You’re very excited about this.”

“Balance has wanted to participate in a heist since he was fifty years old.” Naaga looks pleased.

He’s so cute. Balance is going to die of joy. “I’m gonna marry that reptile,” he says to Umika, who pats him on the shoulder as Naaga turns bright blue. “Anyway, come on, you guys can put aside your weird human differences for the crime of the millennium, can’t you?”

[rabbitcruiser]

National Dog Day

No one can win hearts like man’s best friend and in honor of this bond between man and canine, Dog Day is celebrated.

Take time to appreciate the love and value that dogs bring to our daily lives, and to do your bit for homeless and abused dogs the world over. From keeping us safe working for the emergency services to supporting people who are blind, deaf, or disabled, dogs do a lot for us humans, and this is an opportunity to give something back.

Learn about Dog Day

No matter how little money and how few possessions you own, having a dog makes you rich.

Dog Day has been created so that all breeds of dogs are celebrated; mixed and pure. The day helps to galvanize the public so that they can recognise the number of dogs that must be rescued on a yearly basis, from pure breed rescuers, rescues, and public shelters.

The day is all about paying tribute to these incredible animals who work selflessly to bring comfort, keep us safe, and save lives. Every day, these animals put their lives on the line. There are dogs that protect our safety and freedom by detecting drugs and bombs, as well as those that pull victims from wreckages and tragic situations. Plus, we have dogs for the disabled, blind, and law enforcement. From these heroic dogs to our family friends, these dogs hold special places in our lives, and so it is only right that we honor them.

Amazing facts about dogs

Let’s take a look at some incredible facts about dogs to help you get a better understanding of these amazing creatures. Did you know, for example, that the most successful hunter in the world is the African Hunting Dog? These dogs are successful in 50 to 70 percent of their hunts. They even hold the Guinness World Record for it. Another Guinness World Record goes to the Saluki for being the oldest dog breed. This breed actually dates back to 329BC. Back then, in Ancient Egypt, these dogs were kept as Royal Pets. There are rumors that this breed can be traced back even further, as there are carvings located in the South of Iraq of a dog that looks very much like this breed and they can be dated back to 7,000 BC. Pretty incredible, right?

Did you know that dogs have three eyelids? This is something a lot of people do not realize about their furry friends. The third lid is a nictitating membrane, which is known as a haw. It is important for ensuring the eye is lubricated and protected. There are also some distinct features that are associated with specific breeds of dogs. For instance, Shar-Peis and Chow Chows have black tongues. Also, 30 percent of Dalmatians are deaf in one ear. Also, did you know that if a cheetah and a greyhound were to go head-to-head in a long-distance race, a greyhound would win? This is because greyhounds boast exceptional long-distance speeds. They can keep up a pace of 35mph for as long as seven miles.

Inspiring hero dogs

It is only right that we give a mention to some of the world’s most inspiring hero dogs in honor of Dog Day. In fact, this is something that we like to do every Dog Day – read up about tales where dogs have done incredible things – and we recommend that you do the same too. It can be incredibly eye-opening and very heartwarming.

Let’s begin with Killian, a Labrador Retriever who saved his little friend from prolonged abuse. Jordan and Benjamin Hope had hired a babysitter for their son after spending some time online researching. They were so confident with their selection that they decided to hire the babysitter for five months. However, Alexis Khan was not the incredible babysitter she made out to be. She would slap the baby and constantly scold him. The abuse would have gone on for at least five months if their dog, Killian, did not warn the couple. Whenever the babysitter would arrive, Killian would stick close to the baby and display aggressive behavior toward the babysitter. It caused concern, and the parents decided they would hide an iPhone underneath the sofa to record what was going on. This revealed everything, and if it was not for Killian, they would never have known.

Another amazing story is about a Golden Retriever called Toby. When his owner, Debbie Parkhurst, got a big chunk of apple lodged in her throat, she couldn’t get it out and had to beat her own chest to try and dislodge the apple, but to no avail. Her two-year-old Golden Retriever noticed her despair, and jumped up and down on her stomach to force the apple out, saving her life! There are plenty of other stories just like this only, so we definitely recommend giving them a read. You will be amazed.

History of Dog Day

The love of a dog is a pure thing. He gives you a trust which is total. You must not betray it.

You may be wondering who started this incredible day, and we have Colleen Paige to thank for it. Collen is an Animal Advocate and a Pet & Family Lifestyle Expert. The day marks the date she adopted her first family dog, Sheltie. The day has been adopted around the world, and it is even written into legislation in New York, showing just how important it is.

How to celebrate Dog Day

Recommendations for ways to celebrate Dog Day range from adopting a dog from a rescue home to giving your dog a holistic spa treatment or even buying yourself and your dog matching t-shirts.

The National Dog Day Foundation supports all breeds and varieties of dogs and discourages purchasing from unethical backyard breeders and puppy mills; instead, support reputable breeders or adopt from rescue homes.

Dog Day has been supported by such high profile individuals as former US President George W Bush whose own dog, Barney the Scottish terrier has his own website and has even starred in a series of short films. So celebrate dogs and their varied talents today, both by taking the time to treat the dogs in your own life and by supporting dogs in need.

You can also celebrate Dog Day by making a donation to an animal charity of your choice. You will probably find that you have a local dog charity or shelter in your local area. All you need to do is a quick search online, and you will discover more about the amazing charities out there that are doing incredible work. There are charities and rescue shelters for dogs without a home, as well as organizations that organize dogs for the deaf, as well as therapy dogs and guide dogs. Making a donation to one of these organizations can make a massive difference.

Of course, you may decide that the best way to do this is to fundraise. In order to fundraise, you purely need an idea that gets everyone involved so that awareness and money can be made. It does not have to be a complicated idea. This is why fun runs and bake sales are so effective. You simply need to make sure that you have something that the community can really get behind. Alternatively, you could decide to take on a challenge and ask people to sponsor you, such as a skydive or walking a certain distance. The options are endless.

It is worth mentioning that fundraising does not have to involve an event of any kind. There are plenty of other ways you can fundraise. For example, you may decide to get a T-shirt personalized and sell them. This could be a T-shirt with some sort of animal quote on it in honor of Dog Day. you could then donate all of the proceeds, or at least a percentage of them, to a dog charity or organization of your choosing.

It is not all about donating money, either. There are a lot of organizations that would appreciate your time just as much. Why not spend the day working with an animal charity or organization? If you are going to be able to donate more of your time in the future, we are sure that this would be greatly appreciated.

Needless to say, another great way to honor Dog Day would be to give a dog a home that really needs it. Your life really does change once you have a dog, and for the better! However, bringing a dog into the family is not for everyone and you may feel that you are not at the stage in your life whereby this is right for you. Plus, you may simply not be able to. Some landlords, for example, do not allow their tenants to have any pets in their homes. If this is the case, why not sponsor a dog instead? By doing this, you will donate a small amount of money per week or month and in return you will help to provide a dog with the home they deserve. You will get updates throughout the year so that you know what your money is going towards and how your dog is doing.

Another great way to spend Dog Day is by watching a dog movie. There are so many great films about dogs, so you should have no trouble finding one that you have not watched before. One of our favorites is the old-classic Old Yeller. If you have not seen this before, we definitely recommend watching it. It is an exemplary coming of age tale. You will go on an emotional journey as you understand the incredible bond between humans and their furry best friends. Of course, you can go for something more fun and less tear-jerking, such as 101 Dalmations. Some other films that we recommend looking into include Heart Of A Dog, Wallace & Gromit: The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit, Lassie Come Home, Lady And The Tramp, Lassie, Isle Of Dogs, Togo, My Dog Tulip, Bolt, Sounder, The Incredible Journey, and Megan Leavey. The latter is about the bond between a young marine corporal and how she saves lives because of the bond she has with her military combat dog. It’s a great movie, and there are many, many more, so get the popcorn in and spend the day binging on some dog films.

Source

[gcrifin]

     Some fun little hybrid/beast form facts cause I’m impatient and withholding art:

She blinks like birds do, nictitating membrane and all. It probably creeps people out sometimes but she’s gotta do it or her eyes dry out

Her eyes are constantly zooming in and out when focusing. Sometimes her pupils shrink and dilate in several different ways in a matter of seconds.

The ear tufts are emotive. She can, and will, flick them. They don’t actually help her hear any better but she’s Dramatic™ and also sometimes she just can’t help it ( give affectionate pats, see what happens )

Yes, you may use her for warmth. She is very cuddly and a nice place to lay. Feathers and fur are an A+ combination. Ideal for surviving winter.

Very agile, very graceful, very scary when mid-combat.

LOUD THREATENING BIRD SCREAMING AAAAA

No but seriously, cover your ears. It’s piercing. Might actually damage your hearing if you’re too close.

Friends get free flights wherever they want to go. Wanna see somebody an island over? No problem. Bad with directions? She’s got you covered. No surprise fees. It’s much quicker than going by ship.

The tail is not for tugging unless you’re a child or a playful cat/bird in which case you get a free pass. Dogs get a tentative one because they tend to bite but she can’t really be mad at any animal period so it’s really just free game at this point.

She has a preening habit but only with good friends she knows don’t mind her messing with their hair. Not exclusive to hybrid/beast, she just likes to run her fingers through people’s hair. It’s good, soft affection. She’ll style it, too, if you want. 

Don’t be too offended if you wind up getting thrown into walls/trees/etc. and after treating you/making sure you’re okay she starts picking small debris off you ─ it’s part of the habit. This is also why she likes being tidy and tends to get a little self-conscious when she comes off as disheveled/beaten up.

Also, nurturing instinct. She will take care of you, no matter what. Griffins are depicted as extremely loyal and faithful guardians and she’s no different ( despite what the government would have you believe ). They’re lost without something meaningful to protect.

Can absolutely be delicate in either form. She’s very much used to her strength and size at this point. If you asked her to top a small cake with a whole strawberry without damaging it only using her beast form’s beak she could do it.

Don’t forget in the process that her talons can break bones and her beak can pierce steel. She has, in fact, bitten a blade in two, and will do it again.

(•ө•) ♡

[damienthepious]

it’s still tuesday here for THREE MORE HOURS i didn’t heckin miss it i made it

Like Whispering

[ao3]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags:  Fluff without Plot, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles,  (basically just a deep dive into monster anatomy), (and Rilla's incessant hunger to understand things), (i'll be real with you this one is weird), (but i like the ending and i need something to post for the IMPORTANT DAY), Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, (i hope y'all care to hang with me while i unpack a buncha headcanons about Arum's body!!!!)

Summary:  Rilla examines the fascinating landscape of her monstrous lover while he sleeps.

Notes: I don't even know anymore fam I hope SOMEONE besides me enjoys this at least. There is at least one Lizard Kiss this time, thank the Saints. Rated T for implications of sex in the past. Title take from the song 3 Rounds and a Sound by Blind Pilot. ]

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum.

He sleeps beside her, between she and Damien, and even that is a thousand page treatise on the concept of trust that she wants to memorize front to back. When he sleeps alone he curls into a ball, tail wrapped around himself like a cat, but in the bed they share he is more apt to sprawl, hand and hand and hand and hand reaching out until they can find a soft source of warmth, until he can pull his lovers close against him and curl around them instead.

It’s easier to really learn him, in sleep. He tends to get irritable with her if she stares at him too long in the daylight. Which is fair, Rilla reasons. Analyzing the bone structure of your monster is a process that requires more direct observation than anyone would reasonably call polite… but Rilla can’t help herself.

Arum’s body is like a puzzle in some ways. Like four or five puzzles piled up together, actually. She’s been taking notes about the subject in longhand, in code, because she doesn’t think he’d appreciate her trying to categorize him so thoroughly- but it isn’t even about the science, anymore. The inhumanity of him, the irrationality; it draws her in. Curiosity has always been Rilla’s weakness, and Lord Arum is a curious creature indeed.

She wants to know him. Every part of him.

She can’t decide, yet, how to organize her observations; mostly she tries to take him part by part, layer by riveting layer.

She has pages dedicated to his eyes. The first thing she learned about him, really, was that he could see better in the dark than a human, and his eyes only got more interesting from there. Diamond-shaped pupils blow out wide in the dark or with arousal, or narrow into thin, dangerous slits when he’s focused. Irises, bright violet. Bright like actual violets, saturated and bold with narrow flecks of a darker shade arranged around the pupil in a subtle starburst. She and Damien must be the only creatures alive who have gotten close enough to see those flecks of plum among the violet, the only people he would trust enough to let that close. He lets them close enough to see, and then he allows his eyes to close regardless, a set of nictitating membranes sliding horizontally over the purple before his proper eyelids close as well.

Another fascinating layer, those membranes. They’re translucent but fogged gray, waterproof, protective; she’s noticed them slipping closed without the outer lids when he’s startled, or when he happens to go out in the rain [a note on his clothing in the rain: it is waterproof as well, though whether that is through magic or the skill of monsters’ weave is impossible to determine, and when she asks for clarification Arum dismisses the question in so particular a way that she is unsure which possibility is more likely]. It’s a useful trait, one that Rilla appreciates because it’s another layer of protection for those unique, beautiful eyes.

She can’t take more notes on his eyes in sleep, though. Instead, she ghosts her hands over his scales, over the subtle patterned expanse of his back as he snores gently into Damien’s hair.

The long, elegant curve of his spine is crested with a subtle ridge of raised scales, like spines or horns, nearly an inch long at the base of his skull and down between his shoulders, and barely higher than the bumps of the rest of his scales lower down [the first time Rilla runs her fingertips along the ridge Arum snaps his teeth in the air, hissing through them in surprise and delight, and Rilla smiles, then repeats the gesture]. Aside from some mild sensitivity, they seem primarily cosmetic, and Rilla can’t place what specific creature the trait is stolen from.

The entire expanse of his scales gleams magnificently, even in the low light of the nighttime Keep. He’s mottled in vibrant dark green and in black, with speckles of gold dotting down his front. The scales themselves are small and near as thick as light armor on his back, on the outsides of his arms, along the top of his tail, and in bigger, softer, smoother plates down his neck, his stomach, underneath his arms, between his legs. He is textured, cool, everywhere she can lay her hands [she has made a point to lay her hands nearly everywhere, by now].

The second pair of arms is completely unnatural relative to any nonmagical reptilian, and they should be completely incongruous with the rest of his frame, but his body fits together with infuriating ease. Arum’s torso is slightly longer than it would otherwise be to make room for the second set of pectorals that the extra arms necessitate [when he stretches in the morning his musculature ripples beneath his scales like the billow of steam, and Rilla could easily spend the rest of her life cataloging every configuration of angles at which his arms could be arranged atop the pillows of their shared bed], and his musculature there is lean but shockingly strong.

The pads of his fingers are textured with hair-thin ridges that help him stick to walls and ceilings when he scurries along at his shocking speed, similar to those of a gecko [Her list of creatures that Arum has traits in common with is absurdly long, and longer when she includes her speculations on his internal anatomy], and the same is true of his toes. His claws on all four limbs are dangerously sharp [more recently, he files down the claws on his lower pair of hands enough to dull them, complaining bitterly about the fragility of humans in general, but the first time he can reach out for the two of them, touch them without fear of causing harm, his expression falls to something raw and earnest and tender] [the claws on his upper hands remain sharp, and there is a certain thrill that comes with their careful touch as well].

His legs are powerful, long, a zig-zag of artful curves. He walks on his toes when he’s upright, his heels in the air and adding to his already impressive height, but he can turn his ankles oddly when he drops to all six limbs, slithering viper-quick whether he is crossing the floor or climbing a tree or wall or ceiling.

Arum’s tail is primarily meant for balance, and it’s not quite so deft as to be entirely prehensile, but he has enough control that he can grip a small object with it or curl it around something solid to stabilize himself [he is equally likely to curl it around either of his humans to pull them closer unexpectedly, to add an extra layer to an embrace].

[Rilla has an entirely separate mental space for notes on Arum’s sexual anatomy; that research is currently ongoing]

Arum’s teeth are [she mentally places a line between her more clinical observations and those that belong in the previous category] gorgeous, knife-sharp, terrifying, with long vicious incisors and jagged molars. Insectivore teeth, meant for piercing and crushing exoskeletons, and they flash bright behind his thin lips when when he snarls or speaks or laughs.

There is a crescent of little divots above those lips, the labial pits he uses to sense heat; a snake trait among the more dominant lizard features. In the scatter of her notes she has them sorted into the category of particularly anomalous with his extra arms and his frill.

His frill: infuriatingly out of place [speaking only for the purposes of classification: in the social sense, Rilla is only ever grateful for the fragile, expressive webbing that flares around Arum’s head in surprise and embarrassment and indignation, because it’s one of the easiest ways to tell what he’s feeling, besides his tone of voice]. It bears only passing similarity to the same feature on nonmagical frilled lizards; it drapes along the sides of his head when at rest instead of folding at his neck, it’s smaller relative to the size of his head, and the folds revealed when it flares are colored in bright patches of bluish-green and gold-

“Amaryllis.”

For half a moment she thinks that he’s murmuring in his sleep, which would be an interesting first, but then one of his eyes slits open and fixes her with a violet glare.

“I could feel you staring even in the depths of sleep, Amaryllis,” he mutters, voice thick and growling. “What, precisely, is causing you to think so furiously at this time of night?”

His irises are wide black diamonds in the mellow dark, his long tongue flicks absently to scent the air, his chest rumbles with each breath he takes, and every piecemeal part of him fits together in an impossible harmony, every edge that by rights should be jagged instead slides smooth. Rilla knows she’ll never unravel the entire tapestry of Arum, and that knowledge fills her with the thrill of challenge, with breathless awe, with overflowing love.

“You,” she says after a pause, hoping the enormity of her feelings doesn’t bleed too much into her voice. When he goes startle-still, she leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, where she knows he can feel the tickle of her warm-blooded heat. She doesn’t pull away then, sighing against the texture of his scales and pressing her hand to feel the slow drum of his heart in his chest. “Just thinking how damn stunning you looked all wrapped up with Damien.”

Rilla isn’t Damien, and she can’t make the tangle of science and wonder and connection in her mind sing as prose, or verse. Her coded pages read exactly like her field notes: pointed, unadorned, though admittedly a bit more biased. Arum knows her, though. He knows the deeper context around her flippancy, the way she uses informality as a source of comfort.

He breathes a laugh and it tickles Rilla’s ear, and he nuzzles his face against her own. “I would love to pay your flattery back in kind, Amaryllis, but if we wake the little knight now he’ll be utterly useless in the morning,” he grumbles, letting his eyes slip closed again as he pulls her closer.

“Sweet of you to worry about tiring him out,” she replies in a teasing whisper. He growls at the implication that his worry is unselfish, and Rilla’s mind flies off again. The entirety of Arum’s vocal system is a wild mystery, how he can duplicate human language with such an incompatible tongue and lips, and that isn’t even getting into the mystery of how he makes those rattling noises, those growls, those purrs. As far as Rilla is aware, purring is not a typical trait in a lizard, so she can’t even begin to speculate what animal instrument is hiding in the hollow of his throat.

“You are thinking again,” he hisses through a sigh, smiling with his eyes closed and letting his claws drift gently up and down her bicep. “I can hear your mind churning when you go still like that.”

“Sorry,” she says wryly, pressing another kiss to his neck.

“No apologies, my Amaryllis, but you need your rest as well as he does.”

Arum tends to save his pet names for Damien (Rilla suspects this is because they have a much more profound effect on the knight than they would on herself), but it does send a giddy little thrill through her when he slips enough to call her his. “I know, I know,” she says. “I’ll get to hibernating or whatever.”

He chuckles low again, his fingers tracing soft soothing circles on her arm, on her back, his breath lifting his chest beneath her palm, and the combined rhythms are nearly hypnotic. “Would it-” he pauses, and she can feel the hesitation drift through him and then dissolve like parchment in water. It’s easier for him to let himself be soft like this, in warmth, tangled up together in the dark. He hums above her and asks, “Would it help if I sang for you?”

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum, and she’ll never stop being surprised by him either.

She nods against his shoulder, because she thinks her voice will either crack with laughter or too much feeling if she tries to talk, and Arum presses his mouth in an almost-kiss against her hair before he starts to sing. He sings close and quiet against her skin, his voice rough and low and inhuman, and Rilla smiles against his scales as it works in concert with the movement of his hands. It's soothing, stable, perfect.

There is comfort in a curiosity that cannot be answered, Rilla thinks as she drifts. Stability in a mystery that can unfold and unfold and never reveal a conclusion. Rilla has always preferred answers to questions, but Arum-

Arum is a question she intends to ponder for the rest of her life.

[heroes-hq-blog1]

FALCO IS OFFICIALLY READY TO JOIN THE ACADEMY!

› WANG XIAOYE › 19 YEARS OLD › AVIAN PHYSIOLOGY › 3 YEARS ACADEMY

POWER

avian physiology, with the ability to mimic and transform into birds. this includes anything from wing manifestation to full transformation into a bird, specifically raptor species ( birds of prey, i.e eagles, hawks, vultures, falcons ) in his case.

STRENGTHS

- wing manifestation ; he’s able to form wings from his back when he wants to take flight. he has a wingspan of about 14 feet total.

- total transformation ; he can fully transform into certain birds of prey, like eagles, hawks, or falcons.

- nictitating membrane ; a third eyelid, used to cover his eyes to protect them from debris and even shield him from illusions and other powers.

- telescopic vision ; he can zoom his vision in on things, allowing him to see distant objects in magnified scale

WEAKNESSES

- wings ; it’s often painful to extend and retract his wings, as they’re physical and tangible and manifest from his back. his entire body can be sore after he utilizes this ability.

- if he is bound and his back is constricted by anything containing lead, he’s unable to extend his wings since he’s weakened by it ( such as superman vs. kryptonite )

- in the case of his wings becoming injured, they would have to be fully nursed and healed for him to be able to retract them.

- transformation ; it can be difficult or nearly impossible to revert back to his original form, and he can even be forced out of it in certain circumstances or if certain powers are directed towards him.

- if inebriated in any way, he’s unable to use any of his powers or abilities.

- he has a very specific weakness against lead, in which if it’s ingested he can be poisoned and the effects can differ depending on the dosage.

- depending on the severity of an injury in any of his winged or bird forms, it can leave him without the full ability to sustain accurate flight for a period of time.

ORIGINS

a nameless newborn is handed off to be cared for by his adoptive family, the sixteen year old mother with her head in her hands on the hospital bed. her parents didn’t want her to have to care for a child at such a young age, despite her cries, and so her son is immediately sent off to his new family. he’ll have a better life, they tell her, the family that takes him in are much more than deserving of a child and far more prepared than she ever could be. even before his birth, his real mother’s parents arranged for a family without the ability to conceive to take the child, and soon he’s in their care with all paperwork signed and a name written on the birth certificate. wang xiaoye, affectionately nicknamed ‘xiao’. his nursery is around the size of his birth mother’s entire home, every last detail planned to the t, overanalyzed and obsessed over for months in preparation for the child’s arrival.

he’s thought to be the couple’s biological child by all of their family and friends, and is raised believing so without any knowledge of or contact with his biological mother. they made it believable, falsifying photos shared with those close to them and his mother wearing various bumps of fabric underneath her clothing for months until the birth. they told everyone they had a natural home birth, and everyone respected their privacy during that time. growing up, xiao is doted on and spoiled by every member of his family as well as friends of the family, showered in money and material items and affection and compliments.

the wang family was all about power, possessions, prosperity, and most of all… perfection. their only son’s ability to generate claws from his hands and feet, see with perfect vision in pitch black surroundings, and give an exact description of something over a mile away just so happened to put a damper on the last one. these incidences didn’t come up until after his fourth birthday, but after the first time it was impossible to stop them from happening. the claws that came from xiao’s hands in times of fear or anxiousness especially weren’t ideal, and as a four year old it was impossible to control his emotions to stop it from happening in inappropriate times ( in public, at school, et cetera ). it terrified xiao due to his inability to control it, and he was pulled from his private school to be homeschooled due to his parent’s fear of too many people getting the ‘wrong idea’ about their family.

they hired multiple people to care for their son, to help him control his emotions, hone in his powers and discover any abilities he hadn’t already been aware of, and to homeschool him. they only accepted experts in the field of handling superpowers and under their supervision, xiao and his powers flourished. they studied him, tested certain abilities that they’d seen in others matching the ones he already knew of, and encouraged him to try honing in on ones they believed he may possess. it wasn’t until he was covered in wires during a stimulation where, in fighting against an opponent, he was pushed over the edge of a building; while lost in the sensation of ‘falling’, his screams filled the silence as wings forced their way out of his skin near his shoulder blades to save him from the imagined fear of the ground’s impact. with the idea of his true potential in mind, they were finally able to help him hone in on his finally discovered power of avian physiology.

xiaoye was fifteen the first time he considered the avengers academy. he’d been invited to go there when he was younger, but he was afraid to be away from his family and the people taking care of him who he’d become familiar with. afraid to be around people who knew more than him, who were older and more experienced and could put a target on his back because he was young and inexperienced. since he was older, finally more comfortable in his own skin, he brought up the idea to his caregivers and parents. they were accepting, yet hesitant. the closest location was seoul, and he had no knowledge of the korean language. he was determined to learn, however, and spent the next year learning the language with a korean teacher appointed to get him fluent in the language. again, the wang family was infatuated with perfection, and they refused to have their son go to another country with no knowledge of the language to be looked down upon.

a year passed and he felt confident enough in his korean to uproot from his home city and move with one of his caregivers to seoul. she had worked at the academy in previous years before being hired by his parents, and her connections within their walls had him scouted by a friend of hers with promises of his ability to do great things within the academy. the only issue was that he had no knowledge of how to relate with people his own age after spending so much of his formative years with adults and experts so much older than he. he often found himself freezing and simply not speaking when spoken to by other classmates, which led those around him to believe he was either mute or impertinent. the professors, however, took a quick liking to him due to his intelligence and respect towards them.

not too much had changed in the three years he’d been in the academy, and while his powers had only grown under proper teaching and he had come to gain knowledge of his weaknesses as well as strengths, he still had much to learn- especially when it came to interacting with his peers. if someone managed to get close to him, they were able to get past his outer layer of indifference and almost harsh way of speaking. others, however, would prove to not be as lucky. he ended up with a reputation of someone who would become a villain in due time, though professors and close friends of his refused to believe such rumors.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

@deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss @rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @onikuma-fr @serthis-archivist @fitzfr @reanimatedfr @voltaic-ambassador @sirensage-fr @journey-taken-fr (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

The Bamboo Snakes pt 2

Once he got his wits back about him Bonten picked the hatchling up. Hatchling or not this little guy had a price on his head. He picked him up under the forelimbs. The Guardian chirped at him and when he did more Wind smoke leaked out of his mouth. It formed a cloud and before Bonten knew what was happening it collided with his face. He yelped and let go of the hatchling as his eyes dried out and his nose was filled with the smell of grass like he was flying over the open steppe. His nictitating membrane closed over his eyes to try and moisten his eyes but it didn’t help. He pressed his palms against his eyes even as he started to leak tears from how dry and painful his eyes were.

“Bon— Bon! You okay?” Green called and he felt the other spiral jump down into the hole with him.

“My eyes,” Bonten hissed. The tearing wasn’t helping his eyes either. He writhed and crawled into the sky before dropping back down onto the dirt his long form twisting and thrashing like the wind whipped bamboo.

Jos grabbed him and pulled him straight, undoing the knots and almost painful corkscrewing he was doing. They were talking but he couldn’t hear them. Someone grabbed his face, tearing away his claws and he cried out when they poured water from one of their skins across his face to try and flush his eyes. One of them even held his eyes open. He sputtered and nearly choked on the water but the pain had passed now. He went limp, his coils sagging in Jos’s arms. “You okay?” Jos asked nervously.

“Ow,” he whined like a hatchling.

“Windsinger’s farts what was that?!” Blue cried.

“I don’t know,” Green said. “It was that hatchling. It breathed on him. I saw it.”

Bonten struggled to get himself back together. Green and Blue were arguing about something a ways off and Jos was just casually holding him on one arm. He’d started wrapping around Jos’s arm without realizing it while trying to figure his shit out. Finally he could open his eyes properly and looked around. They still hurt but not that searing pain of before. He still hissed as his eyes focused and he rubbed them. “What are you two arguing about now?” he asked as he dropped off Jos’s arm onto the dirt.

“What we’re going to do with this little asshole,” Blue said.

“Blue’s being ridiculous. He wants to kill it. I say just leave it here and forget about it.”

“It hurt Bon! We should kill it.”

“You’re both stupid,” Zeypher said. “That’s our prize.”

“Did you miss the part where it gave Bon some sort of weird trauma?” Blue demanded.

“We’re not killing it and we’re not leaving it here,” Bonten said and used magic to dry himself off with a stiff breeze. Not hard when the wind was still crashing around them.

“You’re crazy. It could do that to the rest of us,” Blue said.

“We’re not killing it,” Bonten snarled and spat out a bolt of concentrated Wind that blasted the ground right between Blue’s front claws making him flail and kick into the air. “If I find out you hurt it I’ll fucking kill you instead.”

“No need to get violent, Bonten,” Green said.

“This little guy is worth more gems than any of us has ever had. We’re turning it in for a prize. Where the Shade is Jeddie with that bag?” he looked around for the brightly colored spiral.

“I still say it’s a bad idea,” Blue frowned.

“No one asked your opinion, Blue,” Jos said.

“I’m hungry,” Zeypher said and started picking through some of the destroyed homes for some meat. Not raptorik meat because they weren’t savages but meat anyway.

Bonten dropped down into the hole again. He eyed the hatchling distrustfully but it was just looking up at him with his big green eyes. They weren’t leaking anymore and were just a perfect shade of Wind green. Whatever had made them like that before was apparently over. He patted the top of his head and they didn’t freak out or breathe wind onto him again. Instead the wind around them grew still. Or as still as it could get on the Plateau. Instead of a violent wind storm the air returned to a nearly constant gentle breeze. Weird. “You’re a freak,” he told the Guardian. He picked them up and nothing happened. “Jos,” he called and passed him up to Jos. As soon as he did the Guardian started to squeak and protest, struggling against Jos’s claws.

“I wish it was still an egg, much less annoying,” Jos said and put the hatchling down. Bonten crawled out of the hole and the hatchling stumbled over to Bonten and happily nuzzled him. “It likes you.”

“Feeling isn’t mutual,” Bonten grumbled. “Where the Shade is Jeddie?” he looked around again. The bag for the egg could still hold the hatchling just fine.

“She probably got caught in the wind from earlier,” Zeypher called from where she was eating, her mouth full as she talked.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you to not talk with your mouth full?” Jos grimaced.

“My mom was ready to send me to the Exalted ranks the second I was born so, no, not really,” Zeypher said with a shrug of her back wings. Jos grimaced again.

“SorryItooksolong!” Jeddie spiraled out of the air to practically crash into the ground. “That sudden windstorm caught me off guard can you believe those speeds. I got the bag where the egg? What’s… that?” she looked at the Guardian currently gnawing on Bonten’s arm wing. He hadn’t noticed until he looked down at the teething hatchling.

“Ew,” he scowled and pulled his wing from his mouth.

“Did it hatch? Really?” Jeddie gasped.

Green sighed, “Yes, Jeddie, really. No need to be so dramatic.”

“He’s going in the bag,” Bonten picked the Guardian up and carried him over to Jeddie. “Open the bag,” he ordered.

“I guess,” Jeddie opened the bag. Bonten stuffed the hatchling into the bag. It squeaked and squawked and tried to free itself but it was too clunky and wasn’t used to its limbs yet. “Alright, Jos, you take the bag. Everyone else get ready to return to camp. We’ll leave tomorrow for the Cloudsong.”

“If we can find it,” Green sighed.

“We’ll just follow the music, we’ll find it,” Bonten said firmly.

“Guess that works,” Green agreed but didn’t seem overly convinced.

“Does he have a name?” Jeddie asked as she handed the bag to Jos who wound the strap around his arms a few times.

“No and we’re not naming him. At all. Don’t give me that look Jeddie, we’re not naming it.”

“Yeah, don’t want a repeat with that foo from Creyor,” Blue teased her.

“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to talk about the foo,” Jos said sternly, voice hard and serious because Jeddie looked about to burst into tears.

“I was just having some fun,” Blue scoffed.

“Enough. Let’s go,” Bonten said and headed for the surrounding bamboo shoots. He climbed up to the top and set his wings like sails. The others followed his lead and took off, flying back to their camp further down the Ascent.

[devilsofficialfanfic]

The Eternal Hourglass

Chapter 11: When, Not If

Keith had seen that open, raw expression on Lotor’s face in the astral plane. He just didn’t know what it meant.

So he didn’t address it.

“Can you really...transfer Shiro’s soul or whatever?” He asked instead.

“I think so. I’ll have him brought down here, first. It should be easier if he’s close by.” Lotor paused. “I don’t know if it will work. I’m no alchemist.”

“Were alchemists routinely doing this sort of thing?”

Lotor conceded with a nod. “I doubt it.” He sent a quick message from his communicator.

“I mean...could Allura do something like this? Could anyone?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Her father was a great alchemist, and I imagine she inherited some of his ability. Whether she was trained or not… That I don’t know. Probably not. She may have been too young when the war started.” He frowned. “Not that I have much training either.”

“But you have some?” Keith pressed.

Lotor took a long time to answer. “In the interest of your continued trust in me… I learned a little from the Druids. Not a lot. Not enough to be a danger to them, certainly. But a little. The little I did learn...was the Komar. Which, ultimately, shouldn’t be too different from what we want to do here. Taking quintessence from one thing and placing it in another.”

“...I don’t even know where to start with that.”

Lotor smiled bitterly. “That’s all the Komar is, at its most basic. The problem begins when you take too much at once. But we only need Shiro’s quintessence.”

“True.”

They climbed out of the cockpit just as the medical team brought Shiro in. Still too lifeless for Keith’s comfort.

Hopefully that would change soon.

Lotor stripped his gloves off, and placed on on the Black Lion’s leg and the other on Shiro’s head. Like a conduit, almost.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Nothing happened.

Then, so subtly that Keith didn’t notice at first, little marks started glowing under Lotor’s eyes. They were like Allura’s Altean markings, but they were shaped differently. More jagged, like sideways lightning bolts.

Light surrounded first the Lion, then Lotor, and finally Shiro, so bright that Keith had to turn away.

Keith felt electrified, full of life, full of power…

The light died, leaving Keith with white spots in his vision. “Did it work?”

Lotor gripped the Black Lion, breathing hard. “I- I don’t know,” he said. He was shaking, barely upright.

“Are you ok?”

“Not sure yet.”

The monitors that were hooked up to Shiro hadn’t indicated a problem; other than that, Keith didn’t know how to read them. But he was still alive, at the very least.

“You should sit down,” Keith said, putting Lotor’s arm over his shoulder and supporting him.

Lotor nodded, and Keith helped him sit.

“It might take time,” Lotor said finally, when he got his breath back. “Some of those systems have been offline for a while. Might need to...reboot, as it were.”

“Patience yields focus,” Keith said, mostly to himself. He’d waited this long; he could wait a little longer.

Lotor nodded, and after a few minutes, pushed himself upright. “I’ll have Shiro moved back to his room. It’ll be more comfortable for you to wait there, if you wish.”

“Thanks,” Keith said, smiling softly. “I owe you one.”

“Perhaps we should keep a tally,” Lotor said lightly, before turning to leave.

-

Lotor was exhausted. He hadn’t anticipated how much it would take out of him.

Didn’t help that he hadn’t slept very well last night, of course. That wasn’t Keith’s fault; in fact, he had no doubt that he probably would have slept worse if Keith hadn’t been there.

He had a meal sent to his quarters and ate while bouncing Rallir on one knee. The food helped a little, except now he had a headache developing behind his eyes, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

But at least he’d done what he could. That had to count for something.

Rallir categorically refused to be put down for his nap -a nap which Lotor desperately wanted -so finally he reclined on the couch with Rallir laying on his chest and rubbed his back.

Maybe it was the fact that Rallir had spent the first several months of his life alone and unloved, but he had severe separation anxiety sometimes. On some level, perhaps, he was afraid that if Lotor left, he might never come back.

“I will never abandon you, Little One,” Lotor murmured, nuzzling and kissing the top of his head. “I will always be here for you. I love you, Rallir, even if it hurts sometimes, but you are my son and I love you. I will love you, no matter what. Always.”

Rallir purred sleepily, contentedly, and soon he was fast asleep.

Lotor watched him for a few minutes before he, too, closed his eyes and drifted off.

For once, he didn’t dream, and when he woke an hour later, he actually felt well-rested. The last time that had happened was...the morning of the Kral Zera, with Keith.

Rallir was waking, too, blinking his nictitating membranes back and forth rapidly a few times to clear his eyes.

“Feel better?” Lotor asked.

Rallir cooed and gurgled, a probable yes.

Lotor attempted to smooth down the fur of his crest, but it was probably a lost cause. Still, the action prompted Rallir to start purring again.

“You are too cute for your own good,” Lotor told him very seriously.

Rallir responded by pulling Lotor’s hair, and Lotor kissed his nose. “Alright, I can’t cuddle with you all day, even though I want to. Come on. Shall we check on Keith and Shiro?”

Rallir chirped -he knew that questions warranted an answer, even if he couldn’t talk yet -and clung to Lotor’s chest plate. It was not remotely the first time he’d slept in his armor, and it would not be the last.

And Rallir’s baby claws were no match against the armor, so that was nice. Lotor loved his son, but he was not quite ready to be cut to ribbons by his claws.

Keith was sitting in the chair next to Shiro’s bed, and if Lotor didn’t know better, he would have said that Keith hadn’t slept for a week at least.

But since he did know better, he just had to assume that Keith was merely worried.

“You look better,” Keith said.

“I took a nap,” Lotor said. “You should do the same.”

“I want to be here when he wakes up.”

When, not if; Keith was so optimistic about this. Lotor wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“I can have another bed brought in here.” The one Shiro was in was too narrow for two, which was probably the only reason Keith slept in the chair. Still, it couldn’t be comfortable.

“Ok,” Keith said. He was quiet for several minutes. “He will wake up, right?”

“There is an increased amount of brain activity,” Lotor said. “It’s a good sign, but this falls outside any of my doctors’ areas of expertise.”

“You don’t want to get my hopes up,” Keith said.

“I don’t want you to think that I’ve lied to you, if things don’t turn out...well.”

“You don’t have to be so careful,” Keith sighed. “I know… I know that there are things you can’t control. I know things happen for no reason at all sometimes. They just do. I can take whatever comes.”

“I don’t want to see you hurt,” Lotor said, in a rare moment of emotional honesty.

“I can handle it,” Keith said stubbornly.

“No,” Lotor replied. “Not on your own.”

“I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” Keith deflected, looking away. “Shiro’s going to be fine.”

“Of course,” Lotor said.

[hannahberrie]

Everybody Talks | Chapter 2:  Frogface

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Mileven Rating: K WC: 2715 Summary: During Biology class, El struggles with her growing feelings for Mike. 

[AO3]  Chapter Selection: [1]-2-[3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][Epilogue]

It started in history class last year.

El’s teacher had been trying (and failing) to set up the overhead projector for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the class was growing antsier by the minute; hushed whispers quickly escalated into full-on conversations, laughter, and before long, no one seemed to care that they were even in class anymore.

The teacher had not only given up on trying to hold back muttered curses of frustration, but also on fixing the projector himself. As the students chucked spitballs and paper airplanes at each other, he called the office, asking for an A.V. club student to come over and fix the “goddamn thing.”

Minutes later, Mike had walked in wearing one of his dorky wool sweaters and a hall pass lanyard around his neck. “What’s the problem?” He’d asked, glancing between the rowdy class and red-faced teacher in both hesitance and alarm.  

“This damn projector won’t turn on!” The teacher huffed in reply, “All these good-for-nothing technologies they make us use now…back in my day, there was nothing wrong with good, old-fashioned books and chalkboards!”

“Right,” Mike had said in a dismissive sort of way that made El snort. He moved over to examine the projector more closely, getting out a handful of tools from his backpack.

El had watched as he worked, and though he didn’t notice her, she found herself noticing everything about him. Like the way he pushed up his sleeves, the way he looked so focused, the way he tucked his pocket screwdriver behind his ear when he wasn’t using it, or the way that smiled excitedly when he’d figured something out.

Her heart had done a weird flip-floppy thing in her chest, and as it beat slightly faster, it matched the rhythm of her train of thought: cute, cute, cute, cute.

For a moment, she’d wondered if she was getting sick. She certainly felt like it. Sick and crazy and ridiculous. She knew nothing about him but wanted to know everything.

“There,” Mike had said once he’d finished, “You just had to adjust the Fresnel lens, nothing serious.”

The teacher furrowed his brow. “The what?”

“The condenser?” Mike offered. When the teacher still looked lost, Mike continued, more slowly, “The big glass thing.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Mike left the room, El was left reeling.

He’s still wearing that same sweater today, El notices as she sneakily examines him from across the biology classroom. Even though he’s seated in the front row and she’s all the way in the back, she still has a pretty good angle on him. Since his back is to her, she doesn’t even have to worry about him catching her.

As she watches him take notes, she half-heartedly realizes that she’s kind of acting like a total weirdo. Then again, that isn’t far off from her reputation around school.

El knows what other kids at school think of her. She’s not an idiot — she sees the frightened glances she and Max get in when they enter school with their ripped jeans and dark eyeshadow, or the whispers that are exchanged when they’re busted for something. 

And yet, while every other student seems to notice her, and how different she is, to Mike, she’s practically invisible.

Well, at least, she was.

Her mind goes back to last Friday, to that grungy detention room. When El and Max had entered, and El had seen them, him, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from gasping, though it was only loud enough for Max to hear.

“What?” Max had hissed, glancing back at her.

“Nothing,” El had muttered quickly.

“You know these dweebs?” Max moved her gaze towards the boys in their desks.

“I know Mike,” El had admitted, hoping she didn’t sound too nervous, “He’s president of the A.V. Club.”

Mortensen had turned to lecture them after that, shutting down any further questions from Max, which El was immensely grateful for. She’s definitely not ready to let Max know that she has a crush on a ‘dweeb’ like Mike. She’d never hear the end of all the teasing.

But despite Max almost finding out about her crush, last Friday was definitely the best day ever. Mike had sat right next to her. Without her even asking. And he’d talked to her.

Just thinking about it makes El want to explode, but in a good way. It also makes her doodle hearts in the corner of her notebook as she daydreams about Mike and all the various ways he could confess that he can’t stop thinking about her, either.

She’s in the middle of imagining an elaborate scenario that involves a bouquet of waffles and a motorcycle ride when she abruptly realizes that everyone in the class, including the teacher, including Mike, is staring at her.

She freezes, wishing more than anything that she could disappear. Should she say anything? She can’t just keep sitting here, looking like a total mouthbreather…

“Eleanor?” The teacher, Mrs. Hawthorne, asks. She’s looking at El over the rim of her glasses, the way she always does when she’s had it up to here with someone. “Can you answer the question?”

What question? She wasn’t even listening!

El swallows, cheeks feeling hot. “I…uh…I don’t know,” she mumbles quietly.

“I don’t know,” Troy, Hawkins High’s resident asshole, quietly mimics in a squeaky voice, earning a hushed round of snickers from his cronies.

El gives him a death glare, but Troy ignores her.

“That’s ok,” her teacher says gently, “But you need to pay attention.” This only causes more snickers from Troy and his friends, and El can feel her hands start to shake.

Keep it under control. Not here, not here.

She takes a deep breath and relinquishes her grasp just as the teacher asks, “Can anyone else answer the question?”

Mike raises his hand, and El feels her heart skip a beat. “The nictitating membrane is a frog’s third eyelid,” He answers easily, “It helps the frog keep its eye moistened.”

“Frogface,” Troy not-so-subtly coughs.

Mike rolls his eyes, but El notices the red tinge of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. For the second time in the past minute, she wants to completely destroy Troy, or, at the very least, give him what he deserves (which, to be fair, is complete destruction).

“Thank you, Michael,” Their professor says, throwing Troy a dirty look. “Now that we’ve covered the pre-lab questions, I think we oughta get started with the experiment.”

Experiment? El turns her focus to the board, trying to remember what they’re even studying right now.

“For the frog dissection, I’m going to assign you partners at random,” Mrs. Hawthorne explains.

Oh right. They were dissecting frogs today. Remembering this makes El’s stomach churn, and she starts to feel anxious. This is a class that she’s been dreading ever since their teacher first mentioned it, though she’d completely forgotten that they were doing it today.

Mrs. Hawthorne starts reading out names in pairs, matching students up with their respective lab partners. El crosses her fingers under her desk, hoping, praying, she won’t get Troy. He’s the only thing, at least that she can think of, that’s more disgusting than having to cut open a frog.

“Eleanor...”

Please not Troy, please not Troy, ANYONE but Troy...

“...You’ll be working with Michael.”

El freezes. Michael? As in…

Mike turns to glance back at her with a small smile, and El feels herself melt. Seriously. Her heart feels all mushy and her stomach is all flip-floppy and it takes everything within El to not grin like an idiot. Nevertheless, she’s able to maintain the indifferent, stoic look that she often sports around school — the look that shields her from seeming like the total dope she feels like on the inside.

Mrs. Hawthorne finishes pairing up the rest of the class. When she tells everyone to get started, the whole class gets up in a chaotic flurry of movement.  Everyone’s running to either their partner, their lab table, or the supply closet in the back of the room. El is just rising to her feet — legs feeling like Jell-O — when suddenly Mike is standing right in front of her and she’s trying to remember how to blink properly.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” she replies, suddenly feeling self-conscious about everything she’s doing, like how she’s standing. Should she put her hands in his pockets, like he’s doing, or should she cross them? On her hips? WHY was worrying about this, again?

“So, I guess we’re like, partners,” Mike says.

“Yeah,” El says, amazed at just how nonchalant she’s able to sound, considering the circumstances.

Mike glances around the busy classroom. “So, I can go get the supplies, if you want, it looks pretty gnarly back there,” he offers. “And you can get us a table.”

El nods. “Okay.”

Mike gives her another small smile, and despite her desperate attempts to remain as laid-back as possible, she finds herself smiling back.

The two part ways. As El finds them a lab table, she can’t help but feel frustrated. Being closed-off from people is her form of protection. It keeps people like Troy from learning her vulnerabilities, and, she realizes as she glances down at her own hands, her strengths.

But Mike…

Mike undoes everything. Mike makes El want to smile and giggle and blush and act like a total knucklehead. She’s happy with being a loner, happy with being able to trust Max and Max alone. It’s safe, comfortable. Her feelings for Mike, on the other hand?

Completely terrifying.

Mike returns with a tray of goggles, gloves, forceps, pins, and a plastic container that smells an indescribable kind of terrible. The pungent odor makes El crinkle up her nose, and she looks up at Mike skeptically.

“Yeah, this thing totally reeks,” Mike gripes, passing her a pair of safety goggles.

“Totally,” El agrees, taking the goggles. Their fingers brush for the briefest of moments, and El feels her cheeks grow warm.

El tries not to stare as Mike slips on his safety goggles. The strap brushes against his hair and makes it floof up slightly.

Cute, cute, cute, cute.

They slip on some plastic gloves, line the tools up in a row, and remove the frog from the plastic container. El feels her stomach churn again as Mike lays the frog’s stiff, frozen body out on the tray.

Mike gets out their teacher’s Xeroxed lab instructions and reads them over quickly.

“Alright, so,” he begins, pushing up his sleeves and getting their tools out, “It looks like we have to identify the organs and fill out the diagram on this worksheet,” he turns to her, holding out the scalpel, “Do you want to do the cutting?”

El’s eyes widen. She glances at the scalpel, at Mike, and shakes her head quickly. “I’ll do the worksheet,” she offers, pulling the paper closer to her.

“Aww, you’re not scared, are you?” Mike teases. “It’s just a little frog.” He holds up the frog’s arm and makes it wave at her.

“No!” El tries to hold back both a giggle and cry of disgust, but instead gives off a strangled sort of snorting sound that only makes Mike smile even more.

El composes herself and gives him her best-annoyed look, “It’s gross.”

“It’s not THAT gross,” Mike replies, “I mean, it’s a little gross, but it’s also super cool! Like, we’re gonna get to see all his intestines and his liver and stuff!”

He’s definitely not wrong about that.

Once Mike cuts the frog open, they can see every last veiny, slimy, nasty organ inside. El keeps her eyes trained either on Mike or their worksheet, knowing that she won’t be able to last a minute if she has to keep looking at the poor frog.

Mike seems aware of this, as he doesn’t tease her anymore. Instead, he takes on the tasks of cutting, examining, and prying. He seems really into it, if the way he excitedly babbles about the abnormal length of the spleen means anything. Even though it’s still super gross, the way Mike explains it to her — passionately, earnestly, an excited glint on his eye — she can’t help but admire his efforts to make it less scary.

He’s a total nerd about the whole thing, and yet, El finds herself loving every moment of it.

When the class ends and it’s time to pack up, El finds herself actually upset that it’s over.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mike asks her as they properly dispose of the frog and remove their gloves, “I mean, it smelt really weird, and I know you didn’t like all the organs, or how it kinda squirted frog guts everywhere when I accidentally punctured the —“

“Mike,” El cuts him off, not really wanting to relive that particular moment, “It was fine.”

“Really?” Mike slides his goggles up, and now that they’re resting in his scruffy hair, El notices the splay of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Cute, cute, cute, cute.

El swallows and nods. “Yeah.”

Mike gives her another smile as they finish cleaning up.  They conclude just as the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

As their classmates file out of the room, El goes back to her desk to get her things. Mike grabs his backpack and slowly makes his way over to the doorway but doesn’t leave, and it’s only when El notices the glances he keeps giving her that she realizes he’s stalling for her.

El holds back a smile as she makes her way towards the door, hoping Mike can’t tell that every step she takes towards him makes her heart flutter all the more.

“By the way,” Mike says as she approaches him and the two walk into the bustling hallway together, “How’d you solve my Rubik’s cube? I’ve been working on it forever.”

El shrugs, still a little unsure herself. “I just tried.”

“Seriously? I can’t believe you did it so fast! Like, you were amazing!”

Amazing? El glances up at him, eyes wide, and Mike suddenly looks alarmed.

“I mean, how fast you did it was amazing, not that you, personally, are amazing,” he quickly amends, “Not that you’re not amazing, though! You’re pretty cool, I guess. I mean, you seem cool, I know we’ve never really talked before or anything, but maybe — ”

“Mike!” Someone calls out.

El looks over to see Mike’s friends waiting at the end of the hall, huddle by his locker. Mike looks relieved for the interruption and immediately stops babbling.

“Well, I gotta go,” he instead says to El, giving her an apologetic look. “But maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” El replies, trying not to sound too hopeful, and just like that, Mike is off.

“Why were you walking with HER?” El hears one of his friends — Dustin, she’s pretty sure — ask before the boys submerge into the rushing crowd of Hawkins High students, out of earshot.

As Mike disappears from view, El is suddenly left wondering if that was the conclusion to their story. Was that the last time they’d ever speak to each other? The last time he’d ever acknowledge that she existed? What did ‘maybe I’ll see you later,’ mean, anyway?

El looks down at her hands. She knows she’s different, powerful, dangerous — and yet, all she feels now is a delirious sort of weakness.

She’s turning into such a knucklehead. A blushing, embarrassingly love-sick knucklehead.

And yet…

She doesn’t completely hate it.

El crosses her fingers and desperately hopes that she won’t become invisible to him again.

[mama-ghostie-61542]

Awakening  Ch. 4

Rated M for Mature

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Chapter 4

Dons POV

It was quite late when I heard the scuffle, having heard it long before I exited the lab. I had the extreme pleasure of hearing everything in stereo so I knew that it was Raph and Doc getting into a shouting match over something, but exactly what, Doc was shielding me from. It drives me crazy when she does that.

I followed the sounds to the dojo and found my twin flame squaring off against my older brother while Mikey held the baby and was trying to calm her down.

“For fuck’s sake, Red, she’s just a little girl. She just learned to walk not too long ago!”

“But she’s strong and smart, Doc! She’s old enough to start with the basics!”

“She’s two! When I deem her old enough she will learn, but not before she is ready.”

Mikey noticed the glow around her right fist before I did. He shoved the baby at me; I then handed her off to Leo, who took the baby out of the dojo and went to go play with her and the boys. Meanwhile, Mikey tried to get in between Raph and Doc. Raph just threw him out of the way, which was about as smart at throwing C4 into a roaring inferno.

If I know one thing, inside out, upside down, and backwards; it’s her, it’s Wolf. After he threw Mikey, Raph had no more than turned to Doc, his nictitating membranes over his eyes when she tossed a small wad of energy at the dead center of his chest.

Then, she walked away, yelling, “Bedtime!”

His knees hit the floor a split second before his extra eyelids rolled back. His hand went to his chest where it hit him. Then he grunted as he hauled himself off of the floor.

I stepped forward to help him up, but he shook me off.

“I’m fine,” he growled as he started to walk away from me and toward his room.    

I grabbed his arm. “I learned a long time ago NEVER get on her bad side; that it’s better to stay in Wolf’s good graces; it’s not so painful. By the way, that is gonna sting for a good long while, but once it stops stinging, you’ll be fine. You are lucky it was her and not me. For Christ sake, Raph, Rae is only 2. Ask next time,” I ended as I pushed him away.

With that I stalked away to help put the kids down for the night.

Raph POV

I managed to make it to my room and close my door before I teared up. Wowzers that hurt. Don was right; it stung. It was like getting hit by Bruce Lee’s ‘One Inch Punch’ a dozen times. I looked down to see a small circular bruise starting to color up. Ow.

Then I slowed down enough to think about it. She had hit me with an orb of energy from three to six inches away.  I could only imagine what it would do if it had more power behind it and was from rage rather than just P.O.’d. I did a full body shudder. Then, the stinging in my chest started to ease. Wow. Note to self; no more pissin’ her off. For a girl, she can hit really hard. Ouch.

Dons POV

           After the kids were asleep, I turned my attention to my Wolf. She had soaked up too much energy to fit in that one small orb and she needed to get the rest of it out. I had an idea or three on how to help her. I grabbed her hand and my skin instantly started tingling. A delicious feeling to be sure but it also imparted a sense of urgency. I threw her over my shoulder and headed for the lab. Part of me wanted to get some readings on the amount of power she could handle, but another part of me, the older part, pushed me to diffuse it quickly. I instinctively knew that if I didn’t, she would be a ticking time bomb.

           After I locked the door, I found myself against the wall, her lips on mine and her tugging on my suspenders. My hands settled on her hips. Suddenly, my suspenders were off and she was gently chewing my bottom lip. I gave in, moaning as her tongue gently danced along mine. I moved my hands to cup her head and pull her closer to me.

           I hissed and shivered as she raked her nails along my sides. I returned the favor by sliding my right hand under her shirt and gently raking my own down her back. My reward was her moaning against my lips.

           Suddenly, she pushed away and  started to stalk back toward the back corner of my lab, where I had made a nest of pillows and blankets the night before. As she started off, that t-shirt was whipped off over her head, giving me a perfect view of her back and the three scratches I had just left on her. Before the night was through, she would be mine. I followed, shucking off my pants and gear so I only wore my glasses and my boxers. I could smell her arousal halfway across my lab. The heady honeyed aroma made my mouth water, my head spin and my heart race.

           As I turned the corner into my little nest, there was my goddess, in nothing but white cotton bikini’s with purple lacy elastic and a smile. I could see the shadow of the little jade dragon with the royal purple wings on the left cheek of her perfect ass. I wondered if I bit it, would it bite me back? The leaves and vines of her rank were also visible. I am damned proud of my very sexy little General.

           Her back was to me as she glanced over her shoulder. I dropped to my knees right behind her and started to run my tongue along the bright pink trails I had left on her back. She moaned for me.

“Uh-huh,” I moaned as I started licking the welts, and occasionally nipping at them while growling and snarling.  As I toyed with her back, my hands were busy kneading her breasts and flicking or pinching her nipples. She kept moaning for me, it was setting me on fire. I was close to losing control.

           “Don’t tease, Hawk; not right now,” she whispered as she arched into me.

           That did it. I grabbed her undies and gave them a slight twist, “Get ‘em off,” I snarled against her back.

           She shivered and slid them down over her hips to let them fall to the floor. I got a good look at the tattoo on her ass. Then, I gently bit it. I was slightly disappointed when it didn’t bite me back; damned defective Ghost tat. When her undies hit the floor, I caught the full brunt of her sweet smell. I knew she wouldn’t need much more to take all 12 and a half inches of my rod in one go.

           The feel of her skin against mine was making her already very wet folds drip and run down her thighs. She shifted her hips and pulled me down where she wanted me with one hand and jerked my boxers down with the other.

           I chuckled, “Yes, Boss,” and proceeded to remove my boxers and line myself up.

           In seconds, my throbbing cock was buried in her hot, tight, and very wet pussy. It felt like coming home as her pussy swallowed every inch of me. I couldn’t stop my hands; I wanted to touch every inch of her sweet, soft skin. After the initial slow and deep thrusts, I lost all control, I started thrusting hard and deep, hitting a spot just past her cervix and making her tremble around me. When I got my bearings again, she was trying so hard not to cum until I was ready.

           “Cum for me, my Wolf,” I snarled against her skin as I sped up, hitting her end with wild abandon. Her pitchy moans grew louder and louder.  I would never admit it to anyone else but there was more than just sex involved. I knew, somehow, what button to push when, and she just knew mine, too.    

           She came so quietly that had I not felt her muscles clench and the rush, I wouldn’t have been certain she had. It was somewhere between a soft moan and a purr. Either way my old name was on her lips. It didn’t take much more for me to blow my load, she just felt too good. We were both covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

I rolled us to our side and held her close to me. I will readily admit that not one woman I have slept with in the past holds a candle to this woman. Not one has held my attention for nearly as long as this one has.

We laid there for the longest time, just talking, our voices near cooing. Mostly we spoke of how it felt to finally be home. Our hands caressed each other in the manner most loving. It was perfect. Eventually, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. That night, I dreamt of waking up to her.

I admit, I was afraid to fall asleep and waking up to find it had been yet another bittersweet dream. I held on to awake as long as I could, just watching her breathe; watching the subtle rise and fall of her side, feeling her breath on my arm, as her head rested in the crook of my arm.

In fact, that is what woke me up the next morning, her gentle breath on my neck from where she had cuddled closer to me in the night, her arm resting on my shell, her leg thrown over my hip. I caressed her back, unable to stop myself.

I heard her wake, but her eyes stayed closed.

“I don’t wanna wakeup,” she grumbled.

“Why,” I cooed in return, just kissing the top of her head.

“Because this is a dream and I don’t wanna cry,” she replied, her voice growing thick.

It was all I could do to reassure her that I was indeed there. “Wolf, I promise you, here and now, I am no dream,” I whispered. Then, my lips claimed hers. I didn’t care that she tasted like sleep, mostly because I did, too.

About that time, we heard Mikey banging on the lab door and screaming for Doc.    

A/N--Exact same thing on ffn.

[inquisitorius-sin-bin]

Dr. Victre - Chapter 2

Introduction | Chapter 1

Dr. Lysa Victre scanned one more time through her computer’s species database.

“Right, could you say that for me one more time?”

The Fifth Brother huffed, rolling his eyes. “Nylotican. From the planet Nylos.”

She put a hand over her face, idly pinching her lower lip. “This is highly irregular,” she mumbled.

“What is?”

“Your species, as you named it, is not in my database. Nor is there a group which lists all of the characteristics you seem to exhibit.”

She stood, pacing back over to the operating table. Her head was light with the euphoria, though she tried not to get her hopes up. Perhaps a DNA analysis was due. Or maybe one more look at his features.

“Could you blink for me, slowly?” she asked.

The Fifth Brother stared at her with his arms crossed, but did as requested.

“Nictitating membranes, yes, that’s what I thought… What about your teeth, can you open up for me?”

“What is this abou-”

She caught his mouth and held it open, thoroughly counting and examining the shape of his teeth once more. All the same, seemingly imbedded within the jaw. “Homodont dentition. Appears to be thecodont as well. Do you know if your teeth replace themselves if lost?”

“Ahhh - yaaah?” he replied, his mouth still held open by the strange woman his fellow Inquisitors had been telling him about. Very interesting, she was.

“Ohh, sorry!” She let go of his jaw, returning to her computer and giving more inputs, trying to tease out a response. “There could be several reasons why you aren’t listed,” she tried to reason, “perhaps your species has a name for itself which is different from the database’s records, or maybe someone made a mistake entering in characteristics…”

“Or perhaps you made a mistake,” he suggested.

“Unlikely,” she mused, the corner of her mouth curling up, “however it is also a possibility that your species isn’t described in Core World records. Tell me, how does Nyloticus quintumfratremi sound?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the Fifth Brother answered, ready to be done with all this poking and prodding. 

She sighed in response. “That’s alright, if I hold you any longer I’m liable to get in trouble with our mutual superior anyways. I’ll just take a small tissue sample. That and your scan should be able to give me what I need… for a bit.”

She grabbed the small excision tool while the Fifth Brother instinctively braced himself, covering his arm. 

“Ohh,” Lysa put down the tool for a moment, looking at the exposed place on his upper arm. “Your skin is peeling. Let me have a look.”

She extended a hand, and the Fifth Brother hesitated before offering his limb.

“Is Nylos a moist planet?” she asked, inspecting the dried and flaking tissue.

“Yes,” he offered, eyeing her, “like a swamp.”

“Hmm… Well the cold air here doesn’t hold much moisture.” She looked around, then located the trial packets she was looking for. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure if you’re more amphibian or more reptile, so I’m playing it safe. This cream is safe for use on Chagrians, so it should work for you.”

She lightly dabbed the surface of the skin irritation with the moisturizer, watching closely for a reaction. “I would keep a close eye on this patch. If you don’t experience any irritation, then come back to me for more. I’ll give you some samples in the meantime though. And perhaps you might want to consider adding sleeves to your uniform. The less your skin is exposed to the dry air here, the better.”

The Fifth Brother tilted his head back as he eased up some. “I uh - thank you, doctor.” 

“Of course! It’s no problem,” Lysa laughed a little, “it’s my job to keep you healthy, and skin care is a big part of that. Now, about that tissue sample -”

The sound of the sliding door cut her off, as she looked up to see Tewbee marching in.

“Dr. Victre, the Grand Inquisitor is here to speak to you,” the droid reported.

“Ah,” she sucked in a breath through her teeth, “I’m in the middle of an examination, but…”

“He is most insistent that you see him.”

The doctor slowly peeled off her rubber gloves. “Yes I assumed that might be the case… Tewbee, if you would please, excise a small tissue sample from this patient and perform a full body scan. I’ll be back when I can.”

“Be careful,” the Fifth Brother warned with a hint of a smirk, “I don’t think he likes you very much.”

“I would tend to agree with that assessment,” Tewbee chimed in.

“Okay, you two, enough of that. I’ll be fine,” Lysa said, hurrying out to the service window. Once there, she pressed the button and the panel lifted, revealing the stern-faced Pau’an. 

“Grand Inquisitor, sir, how may I help you?” she asked, hoping today he was feeling at least slightly more amiable.

“These examinations are taking far too long,” he grumbled.

“Well, yes, they are taking longer than I had anticipated… Each of you requires very individualized care, which I hadn’t originally accounted for in my time estimations.”

“Individualized care. Because we are not humans.”

“Why, yes. It isn’t a problem or anything,” Dr. Victre shrugged, “but unfortunately every chart and diagram I have assumes a human physiology, which you all just don’t-”

“-Enough,” he cut her off, “that is not why I am here. I need you to explain this.”

He slapped a datapad down onto the counter with more force than he intended, the sudden sound jolting Lysa’s body and making her chest tight. It took her a second to ease away the tension so she could breathe again. The Inquisitor noted her flinch with a raised brow, but said nothing.

“This is a schedule,” she explained, still a little shaken, “the Third Brother’s, it looks like. Is… there a problem?”

“What are these three hour slots in the UV chambers for?” he asked, staring intently at her.

“Well,” Dr. Victre began, “we don’t get much sunlight here on Stygeon Prime, but it is still necessary for proper neurological health and vitamin uptake, so he needs to spend some time in the chambers just like the humans here do.”

“Neither I nor the First or Second have this on their schedule…”

Dr. Victre shook her head. “No, both the Chiss and Pau’an dwell underground naturally, so it is not necessary for you three.”

The Grand Inquisitor stood on the other side of the window, looking her over. 

“…Are you unaware that Pau’an live underground?” she gaped.

“-No! Of course I knew that!” he spat quickly, then smoothed his uniform back down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” Lysa said, noticing his discomfort. “You’re from Coruscant, aren’t you? You have the accent.”

The Inquisitor frowned deeply. Something about him was just suddenly colder and darker to her. 

“You had best stay in your own affairs, Dr. Victre.”

She shuddered, though she couldn’t tell if it was his tone or his demeanor that bothered her. “Right. I… should probably get back to my examination…”

“Yes you should,” he hissed.

Lysa slid the datapad back to his side of the counter, and nearly pushed the button to close the window, but had one last concern.

“You will tell me if that medication works for you, right? And when? It’s very important. I need to get a baseline for which dosages are appropriate for you.”

His teeth were bared. “I will let you know.”

“Okay, thank you. Have a nice day,” she spoke softly, then shut the window, slinking into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh. 

There was something incredibly off about the encounter, beyond the efficiency and the stubbornness she had come to expect from her new superior. Questioning his home and accent had made him downright dangerous. She made a note not to bring up Coruscant again.

When Dr. Victre returned to the room, the Fifth Brother could tell she had been shaken. Something about her presence gave off the impression of someone who was deeply unsettled. He almost didn’t notice the prick of the tissue sample being removed from his arm.

“Good work, Tewbee,” she said at last, “I can take it from here.”

“I have completed the tissue extraction and scan, just as asked,” the droid replied.

The doctor nodded. “Of course. I think I’ll do some blood work too, just in case. In fact, put down an order for all Inquisitors to get blood drawn on their next visit. I should work on setting up an appropriate bank; it could be very handy.”

Tewbee beeped once in affirmation. “Noted, Dr. Victre.”

“Great, now if you will excuse us, I will finish this exam and move on to the Sixth Brother-”

“-Seventh Sister,” the Fifth Brother corrected. “The Sixth Brother was killed long ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…” Dr. Victre trailed off. “I didn’t realize- He was not listed as deceased on my charts. But of course, there wasn’t much information on them to begin with.”

The Fifth’s expression did not change. “That’s alright. It’s not as if… well, you may have noticed that we don’t exactly get along within the Inquisitorius. We aren’t here to make friends.”

“A pity. I couldn’t imagine not being at all friendly with my teammates. If it weren’t for Tewbee and my patients, I think I would have gone mad by now,” Dr. Victre joked, tying a band around the Fifth Brother’s rather muscular arms.

The Fifth Brother suppressed a laugh. “The way they describe you, you may already be a bit mad.”

“Well, I can’t help it, really. You’re all just so different to me. You make me curious, and I mean that not just from a biology standpoint- no. You all must have some incredible tales! I want to know where all of you are from, what it’s like there, how you came to be a part of the Empire, what worlds you have seen since then, all of it!” she beamed.

He furrowed his brow. “Be careful, Doctor. Those questions are not to be answered. And asking the wrong one might get you into serious trouble.”

So she wouldn’t get any answers from him either. Dr. Victre deflated. Though, perhaps investigations of the Inquisitors’ health might yield some answers. A quick look over the Fifth Brother’s scans didn’t immediately reveal anything, but she was hopeful for the results of the blood panel. 

“Well, yes…” she said at last, “I suppose I will have to get used to some secrecy. Just… know this, and tell the others too; I am your primary physician now. Details can be more important than you know, and I’m never at liberty to share them with anybody. So if something happens to you and you’re on some top secret assignment, know that you can tell me what I need to know to help you and I will never share it with another soul.”

The Fifth shifted, pawing at the cotton she had taped to his arm. “Alright,” he said, clearly uncomfortable.

She smiled, waving it off. “But hopefully by the time something like that happens, if it happens, I will have gained your trust. Yours and all the others’.”

He nodded again. “Let us hope.”

Lysa swallowed. The Inquisitors were certainly a stiff bunch, but this one seemed a little more open- and he had been the first one to thank her as well. As she escorted him out, she couldn’t help offering him a cup of caf before he left. It just seemed like the right thing to do, even if he refused.

“Take care, Fifth Brother,” she told him.

The Fifth did not answer the doctor’s wishes, but instead stepped out of the medical center and met the presence he sensed was waiting for him just outside.

“The Grand Inquisitor told me that you are to give him a report immediately,” the lithe Seventh Sister stepped into his view.

“A report? On… the doctor?”

“Apparently all current personnel on base are being evaluated. Something about whether or not they can handle the change,” she smirked.

The Fifth Brother crossed his arms. “What change?”

“Well, apparently this place hasn’t seen any action since ohh, the Clone Wars or so. He doesn’t think some of the staff here are up for what is to come if his little pet project actually works.”

“And you think it will?”

The Seventh Sister tilted her head back and laughed. “How should I know, or care? All I know is that you have a report to file and I have an appointment with Doctor ‘I’ve never seen a non-human before in my life’!”

“Right…” the Fifth huffed, leaning away from his smaller counterpart. “Have fun with that.”

Dr. Victre plopped down in her chair long after she had told herself to go to sleep. Tewbee had already powered down, and the med bay was deathly quiet. She mindlessly toyed at the camera switch between Cerastes and Crotalus, but the feed couldn’t hold her interest for long.

She rolled her chair back over to her microscope, tapping her fingers on the counter a few times before standing up and collecting a portion of one of the blood samples she had collected from an Inquisitor that day. It was just a drop, just enough for her to look at and ponder over for the next day’s appointments. She hoped that she could see the remaining new patients in the next two or three days. Simply explaining who she was or how she knew as much as she did time and time again was starting to make her weary.

To make matters worse, every single one of them was suspicious to the point on inhibiting her work. There was something so odd about all of them that Lysa just couldn’t put a finger on. She was excited of the possibilities they represented to her studies- and their physiology was incredibly engaging- but Dr. Victre was unsure of how much longer she could handle patients who treated her questions like she was an enemy spy.

They had to be hiding something. The request she had received on the day of the Inquisitors’ arrival could not be ignored. What could they possibly want with the body of a dead Jedi? How did such a thing even come to be on Stygeon Prime?

Wiping her heavy eyelids, she dropped her sample into a dish and put it under the scope. Lysa wasn’t even sure what she was looking for, exactly. Just any kind of explanation for what was happening on her little isolated base.

Though the cell forms were foreign to her, it only took a few minutes of observation to determine which cells was more or less analogous to human blood cells. The relative proportions of each kind even seemed normal. There was one structure, though, which looked exactly identical to its counterpart in every living thing. There were Midi-Chlorians wherever she looked. They seemed to be in incredibly high concentrations compared to the number in any human samples she had seen.

Dr. Victre fidgeted with her hair, twirling it as she was deep in observation. She drew pictures of what she saw and took notes on any interactions, until finally even her caf couldn’t keep her awake. Just a few precious hours before her own personal wake up call, she finally staggered into the elevator and down to her quarters.

Introduction | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

[emperorsfoot]

So, I thought I was making good progress on chapter 4 of “Prodigal Brother”. But I have just decided to delete the whole thing and start the chapter over. 

If you wanna read the deleted content, click under the fold. But please note: this content is no long part of the “Song of Steel and Light” canon. 

...

Overrun. That was a good term for it. Nordor was overrun.

Clone troopers swarmed its caverns and halls.

A satellite asteroid orbiting the planet Denebria, Nordor was the base of Flogg’s militia of Mutants.

Previously, Flogg enjoyed a deadly feud with Denebria’s neighboring planet Primus. They would attack Primus’ shield, the attack would bounce off, a few of Flogg’s lackeys would die. It was all good fun.

That was until… The Interloper showed up. With his big speeches, and showy displays of power, and passionate vows of vengeance, and that big dumb stupid skull face! Grr! Flogg hated him as much as the Horde. No. Flogg hated him more than the Horde!

He got Flogg’s Mutants all riled up. Borrowing off the Interloper’s passions they turned from their local feud with Primus and began taking on the Horde Empire. Collaborating with other groups around the Known Universe, like the Goblins of Venatar, the Antar Five, and the ‘Evil’ Warriors of Eternia. Attacking Horde controlled cargo freighters, interrupting supply chains, stealing shipments of ration bars, and preventing deliveries of the synthetic embryotic fluid used in cloning. It was actually kinda fun. Until the Horde tracked the Mutants back to their base.

Their home planet of Denebria, and Flogg’s base on Nordor.

“Skeletor, you dumb fuck!” Flogg snarled as he lashed out with his energy whip, coiling the weapon around one of the clone troopers.

The orange-hot coils of the whip’s lash burned the clone’s uniform and skin, causing the creature to howl in pain. With a jerk of his arm, Flogg sent the clone swinging into two of his brothers, knocking all three into a piled heap in the corridor. Yet more clone troopers tripped and fell over their momentarily disabled brothers.

The Interloper –Skeletor- did not reply.

He was busy with two clone troopers of his own. Parrying their weapons with his Havoc Staff, using the enchanted staff more as a melee weapon than the ancient relic of mystical power that –he claimed- it was supposed to be.

Skeletor kicked one clone in the knee, right at the joint in their armor between shin-guard and knee-cup. The blow caused the two plates of the armor to buckle together and pinch the clone trooper’s skin. His glowing eyes flashed with pain as he was thrown off balance. One more kick and Skeletor threw the clone off himself so that he only had one to grapple with now.

Horde clones were easy to deal with if you knew their sensitive spots –and Skeletor knew all their sensitive spots. Intimately.

The problem that made Horde clones so terrifying and formidable, and made the Horde Empire near impossible to beat back, was that there were just so damn many of them. They didn’t just attack a place, they swarmed it! There was a reason they were called the ‘Horde’ and not just ‘the Empire’.

No sooner had Skeletor dealt with his first two, than another one jumped on his back.

No weapons. Just talons and fangs.

The clone pulled back the fabric of Skeletor’s hood, probably intending to bite his neck, but paused when all he saw there was empty air. The skull of Skeletor’s head being supported by seemingly nothing. His skull not even connected to the rest of his body by the curtesy of vertebra. Just a bare, skinless head floating on air.

Taking the clone’s confusion for the opportunity that it was, Skeletor slammed his back against the uneven cave wall. Crushing the clone trooper between himself and the jagged cavern rock. Nordor rock was particularly rough and unforgiving. The clone slumped down, unconscious.

Finally having a moment to breath, Skeletor glared at his ally, Flogg. “This wouldn’t have happened if Slushhead hadn’t lead them right to us! You should keep a better watch on your subordinates! Do we even know which flagship is out there?”

“Does it matter!?” Flogg’s whip caught on one clone trooper’s weapon. So, he kicked the one in front of him between the legs instead. It didn’t do much. The running scuttlebutt was that Horde clones didn’t have balls. Well, fuck them! “These bat-faced bastards are all the same!”

Bringing his Havoc Staff to bear, Skeletor drew a sigil in the air, then sent the spell sailing down the corridor. Any part of a Horde clone that touched it got disintegrated. Their limbs, or ears, or the faces of their comrades and brothers turning to dust before their eyes. The narrow corridor was filled with the screams of troopers that suddenly found themselves without leg, or, arm, or brother. The noise almost drowned out what Skeletor shouted next.

“They are not all the same!” It was snarled more than spoken. A deep sound, as if the words were clawing their way up from a place deeper than his throat. As if that was an assertion coming from somewhere deeper in the chest, closer to the heart.

“They all look the same to me.” Flogg retrieved his whip from the –now dead- clone it was caught on.

He looked around at the carnage Skeletor had wrote. Clone troopers still conscious crawling on the floor with legs missing. Others cradling weapons beside piles of dust where their brothers used to be. The nictitating membrane of their second eyelids blinking. Flogg might hate the interloping bastard, but even he had to admit that Skeletor was one formidable bastard.

Skeletor had no eyes, only dark empty sockets where eyes should be. Even so, Flogg got the distinct feeling that Skeletor was rolling his eyes at him. Of course they all look the same. They’re clones. But that didn’t make them a hive-mind. Individuals had autonomous thought, they could think on their own. Especially the cabinet Lords. If Skeletor knew which cabinet Lord was in charge of this raid on Nordor, he could figure out how to think around them.

“I need to get to a window, or a monitor, or something!” Skeletor snarled.

“You need to kill these fucking Horde!” Flogg snapped back.

Flogg felt Skeletor make another one of those eyeless eye rolls. Skeletor was a big picture guy. Knowing your enemy was tantamount to killing your fucking enemy. But Flogg was not a big picture guy. Flogg was not a long-term planner. Flogg was more of an in-the-moment instant gratification kinda guy.

Running down the corridors, Skeletor left Flogg behind. Let the leader of the Mutant militia fend for himself. He passed Mutants grappling with clone troopers. Ignored Crita when she called for him to help her with the Horde she was locked in stalemate with. Finally, he came to a segment of cave where the wall had been stripped away by cosmic debris and replaced by transparesteel plates, making it a long wide viewport instead. Through it, Skeletor had a clear view of the fleet.

A little overkill in Skeletor’s opinion.

Certainly, more than was necessary just to take out Flogg and his militia. Unless they planned to head over to Primus and throw themselves against the impenetrable shield next.

Half a dozen bulk cruisers, four frigates, several troop carriers, three corvettes, and a destroyer. The capital ship, the flagship of the Lord commanding this division of the Imperial space navy. The Linen Cloak. Flagship of Lord Hordren, presently the oldest member of Horde Prime’s imperial cabinet.

Skeletor did another eyeless eye roll. “Oy, this guy.”

He doubled back to where Crita was still in a stalemate with, not one anymore, but three clone troopers. Out numbers, and still holding her own. That girl was a waste of talent working for Flogg. Not that Skeletor would ever tell her. But if she ever decided to break out on her own, he could easily see her claiming a title and command of her own on some remote, civil war torn planet in the middle of nowhere. She had the grit for it.

Lifting his Havoc Staff, Skeletor traced a sigil in the air, casting the same spell from earlier. “Dodge!”

Crita didn’t hesitate. She didn’t pause to look back at him confused with a bumbling ‘wah?’. She just jumped out of the way.

Just in time too. Because Skeletor didn’t hesitate either. He released his spell the moment the command was out of his mouth, the sigil sailing through the air, turning anything living that touched its glowing runes to dust. Disintegrating the Horde clones on contact.

“I need a ship.” Skeletor informed her.

“The batties grounded all our ships.” She growled.

‘Grounded’ here was just a shorter way of saying the Horde blew up the whole hanger and everything in it on their first pass with their batwing fighter jets. Every ship they had was nothing more than a hot pile of smoking wreckage.

“I didn’t say it had to be one of our own ships.” Skeletor informed her. The Horde just so happened to be obliging enough to bring a host of ships with them. The clone troopers infesting the Mutant’s moon base had to come over in something. Horde clones were pretty durable and could take a lot, but even they couldn’t survive in the vacuum of space.