#I'm used to adapting some looks for my body shape and all but. uh. that requires A Look to adapt

[sleepinglionhearts]

I'm still working on the whole concept of saying "I look fine and good" and believing it, but I have always enjoyed fashion and putting together outfits, and I have always had a mindset of "even if I myself don't look good and I'm ugly, at least my clothes aren't."

That said, it is SO ANNOYING to want to do a general web search for neat looks from other countries for women around 30 and all I get. Is "where to shop!" and "here's the current hot trends with teens!" like no, no, I am not looking for teen fashion, I am SO VERY SPECIFICALLY NOT looking for teen fashion, thanks, and I suppose it's nice to know the travel blog recommendations for shopping but I'd also like to HAVE AN IDEA OF WHAT TO LOOK FOR FIRST

"Ohh I'm a tourist going to ____ place what should I wear" don't know don't care I want to know what the locals think is cool, I wanna see what color combinations are used frequently, what's the casual wear like, accessories?? Shoes????

And nothing comes up.

hhhhhhhrrrgggghghghrgh

[sevenstarsinning]

Summary: Raditz loses his mate when Planet Vegeta is destroyed and finds himself working alongside Prince Vegeta. When he comes to Earth to recruit his brother, he’s dealt another devastating blow when Goku refuses to join and leaves him near death. He’s found by a human and attempts to adapt to life on Earth.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4

Chapter 5

Morning dew coated the outside of the pod and birds chirped on the tree branch nearby. It was way too cheery for early morning. Being awake at that time usually meant you either couldn't sleep at all or woke up long before you should have.

That morning you woke up too early but it was entirely Raditz's fault and you were more than okay with that.

Sometime during the night he wrapped his tail around your waist and pulled you up to sleep on his chest. That was where you woke up and that's where you remained, listening to him purr while his body heat kept you warm. The rise and fall of his chest was like a gentle rocking putting you completely at ease. That was no easy feat and there he was making you feel safe and content without even trying.

You lifted your head up to see he was awake. It felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you realized something was different.

"You're awake... and you're still purring."

His eyes locked onto yours and the butterfly feeling spread to your chest and throat leaving you seconds from saying something you probably shouldn't say.

"I'm comfo-"

"You're beautiful," you blurted. Your eyes widened and you let out a nervous laugh.

His brow raised in surprise, mouth slightly ajar. For a moment, you expected him to push you over to your side of the pod.

Instead, he smiled and struggled to keep his eyes on yours. He was nervous and you had no idea why.

"I've been called many things but uh... that's a new one," he finally said, breaking the anxiety inducing silence between you.

"Was that a bad thing to say?" You asked, unable to hide the worry in your voice and on your face.

"No, not bad at all. Just new."

When you saw the smile that spread across his face, you realized making a complete fool of yourself in front of him didn't bother you at all. In fact, you were willing to let it happen more just to see that smile. It was like a potent dose of serotonin and you needed more.

"I think I have a solution to our housing problem," you revealed, changing the subject to avoid doing something incredibly stupid.

His tail tightened around your waist and you knew he wasn't letting you up anytime soon.

Later that day, you and Raditz embarked on your first journey away from the house together. He usually stayed back when there were errands to run or groceries to buy. He wasn't a small guy by any stretch of the imagination and walking side by side with him downtown drew the gaze of many people passing by. It wasn't just his size that made people take notice, it was also his gorgeous mane of black hair that nearly touched the ground and his bulging muscles stretching the material of his t-shirt and jeans. It was Raditz in general, all the way down to the way he carried himself and the air of confidence he seemed to be naturally gifted with.

"This is definitely the place," you said, opening the door to a white dome shaped building.

Raditz shuffled in behind you, almost filling the doorway completely. A purple haired girl with the Capsule insignia on her shirt approached.

"Welcome to the Capsule store, my name is Lynn. Is there anything I can help you find?"

Her eyes drifted over to the huge saiyan next to you. He tilted his head, curious about her. Then it struck you, Raditz had little to no experience around other humans.

"Yeah, my house was half demolished when a... plane crashed into it." You knew exactly how ridiculous it sounded but saying a space pod carrying a hot alien crash landed on your house was out of the question.

"Was it a... an alien ship?" Lynn asked, glancing up at Raditz.

"How do you know that, human?" He said, stepping closer to the much smaller human.

"My boyfriend- " Before she could finish her sentence, an alarm blared and red lights flashed overhead. The ceiling opened up but before you could see what was happening, the tail tucked under Raditz's shirt flung out and coiled around your waist, pulling you safely behind him.

"You're supposed to be dead!" A voice called out amidst the chaos.

You peeked around Raditz to see an entire row of artillery from the ceiling aimed at him. A teal haired woman standing on the other side glared, not the least bit intimidated.

"Hey, can you get the insane security to stand down, he's not going to hurt anyone," you yelled back, waving your hand.

"Is that... is that a human behind you?" The woman asked, trying to get a better view.

"Help me out, big guy, your tail won't let me go," you said. Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest. Everything happened so fast you barely had time to react.

"And put you in harm's way? No, you stay back there, this is Kakarot's friend," Raditz growled.

"Wait... you mean Goku?" Lynn said from behind a shield that went up around her automatically.

"Raditz, calm down. They haven't attacked, we can talk to them," you whispered. It was hard to hide the panic in your voice over the predicament you found yourself in.

"Human, where is Kakarot?" Raditz asked, turning his attention to Lynn.

"Enough!" The other woman shouted. "If you promise to keep him on a leash, I'll disarm security."

"Raditz, please?" You begged, lightly scratching the back of his head to soothe him.

He let out a little growl and loosened his tail. "Fine."

The red lights retracted along with the row of weapons and disappeared into the ceiling.

"All I have to do is hit one button and those will come back out, so don't try anything," the woman said, approaching him without a trace of fear.

"I'm Bulma, I'm assuming you're the one taming the saiyan?" She stepped around him to look at you.

"Trying to," you laughed nervously. Raditz still had his tail around you, protecting you even without an immediate threat.

"Come on, let's go out back and talk. Lynn, close up and go home. Make sure Goku knows about this," Bulma said, giving out orders as she guided you and Raditz towards the back of the dome.

The back door led to a shaded patio with a row of tables and thick, beautiful foliage lining the sides to offer privacy to anyone sitting out there.

"Raditz can sit there," Bulma said, pointing at the first table, "we're going to the back table."

"No, I'm staying with her," he snapped, his tail coiling tight around your waist again.

"It's okay, big guy. I'm safe, this is like the smartest and richest woman in the world," you said, nodding towards Bulma. He eyed her wearily but relented and loosened his hold.

You gave him a reassuring smile before following her to the last table.

"Sorry about the security system in there, it's not even loaded with ammo, it's just a deterrent. What did you come in for?" Bulma asked, taking a seat at the last round white table.

"A house. His pod wrecked mine when he landed. We've actually been sort of living in his pod and it's not very roomy," you explained.

Bulma was unfazed by all of it and that piqued your curiosity.

"You've been sleeping in the pod with him? Has anything happened?" She leaned in and kept her voice low.

"Not really. It was a little rough at first but he's adjusting," you said in a hushed voice.

"That's good. He's definitely a lot less hostile than I remember." She glanced past you at Raditz. You could tell her mind was racing, sorting through the chaos that just came back into her life.

The two of you talked for a while, you filled her in on Raditz and she told you about Goku and the little bit she knew about saiyans. You were looking forward to meeting him at some point and even though it was a long shot given the history, maybe Raditz and Goku could at least talk. That could be a step towards him finding happiness on Earth.

"I'll make you deal. If you keep an eye on him and tell me if anything weird happens, I'll give you a capsule house." She said it like she was giving you a piece of cake as opposed to a whole house.

"Bulma, no. That's way too much, let me pay," you countered.

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a handful of capsules. "How many bedrooms were you thinking?"

"Just one, that's all I can really do at the moment."

She settled on a pink capsule and placed it on the table in front of you. "That's a three bedroom. It's one of the models we used for photos so it's fully furnished and you're not paying for it."

"Bulma, you don't even know me. I-"

"Your saiyan back there came to Earth to recruit Goku. The only reason he's here is because of my friend which means your house is gone because of this. It's the least we can do for you," she said, pushing the capsule closer.

"And remember, call me immediately if anything feels off with him, okay? This is a direct line to me," she said, passing a business card to you with the Capsule logo shimmering on the top left corner and a phone number scrawled across the bottom.

"At least let me pay you something for this, please?" You pleaded with her.

"Absolutely not. Just come to my next party, I’ll introduce you to Goku," she said, refusing to take no for an answer as she headed back inside the building.

On your way back to the car, Raditz remained silent. There was no good way to approach the subject of his brother. That had to be weighing on him.

"What's that place?" He finally spoke, pointing towards the small building on the other side of the road.

"It's a bar. One of my favorites actually," you replied, coming to a stop at a four way intersection.

"What's a bar?"

"A place where people usually drink strong tasting liquids that make them feel funny."

"Strong liquids?" He raised an eyebrow and sat forward just enough to see past his hair which had taken up residence between the two of you.

"We call it alcohol. It's how I ended up in that field the night I found you."

"Libations. That's what we called them."

Instead of continuing straight through the intersection, you made a quick left followed by a right and pulled into the parking lot.

You entered the old, dimly lit bar with Raditz in tow. The evening crowd was starting to trickle in.

Raditz found a table while you ordered drinks. You leaned back against the bar while you waited, watching him mess with the phone you gave him. It looked so small in his hands and he looked adorable navigating what he called primitive technology.

After very carefully walking back to your table, you sat a tray full of drinks in the middle and pulled out a chair.

A big, strong arm wrapped around your waist and the next thing you knew, you were sitting in Raditz's lap. You were already so used to cuddling with him in the pod that you didn't think anything of it.

As the day turned to night, you introduced Raditz to all of your favorite drinks and even some you didn't like just to see his reaction. Aside from trips back to the bar to order more drinks, he kept you in his lap with an arm around your waist.

He required a ton of alcohol to even get a buzz and you were content sipping and never getting totally drunk. One of you had to stay a little sober to avoid bad decisions.

"What is this one?" Raditz asked, holding up a pint glass of blue liquid.

"That is your last drink of the night, big guy." You grabbed it and took a quick sip before handing it back.

"It's called... last drink of the night?" He stared at the glass, confused by the weird name.

"It's called an Adios Motherfucker."

"Say that again but... slower," he said with a big goofy smile. Drunk Raditz wasn't too different from the sober version. The thing you noticed the most was the sadness in his eyes. You watched it slowly fade until it was gone completely. His smiles lit up his entire face and he laughed louder.

"Can I have another one of these?" He asked, holding up his empty glass.

"Dude, I've already had to drag you to my house once, we're not doing that again," you chided.

"Human... sweetheart- just one?" He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted.

"Human sweetheart. That's a new one," you laughed, shaking your head at how ridiculously cute he was.

You relented and bought him one more drink. The expensive bar tab made you feel sick but it was worth every penny to see him finally shed the darkness that enveloped him. Even if it was only for a night.

As soon as the chilly night air hit your face, you regretted not bringing a jacket.

"Saiyan, give me your warmth," you said, ducking underneath his massive arm.

"We not driving?" He asked, lifting you into his arms like a child.

"I've had one too many drinks." You buried your face against his neck and settled in for the walk home. Luckily it wasn't far and you liked getting carried by Raditz, especially with his hands on your ass to hold you up.

"You smell good," he said in a sleepy voice as you neared your half destroyed house.

"You can still smell my perfume? I figured that would've faded by now."

"No... not that," he muttered, burying his face against your neck to sniff you. If it was anyone else, you probably would've freaked out.

"Your scent, the normal one."

You pulled back and smiled. “Wait, do you have some kind of heightened sense of smell that I don’t know about?”

“Yeah, it’s a saiyan thing. We can pick up on scents and changes in scents we’re familiar with. Particularly with females we’re close to or want to be close to.”

He crossed the lawn to the backyard and lowered you to the ground. “How does this capsule thing work?”

You pulled it from your pocket, clicked the small button and tossed it approximately where you wanted your new house to be.

“Holy shit, Bulma,” you said in awe of the beautiful house she gave you. It was far too much and you were already trying to figure out ways to pay her back. You and Raditz explored the house briefly before calling it a night, exhausted from the day.

You tossed and turned even though the new bed was the most comfortable thing you had ever laid on. The temperature in the room was perfect and it was dark enough, but something still wasn't right.

You knew what it was but you didn't want to acknowledge it. Lines had already been crossed on multiple levels with your unexpected roommate. You shared the pod out of necessity, nothing more.

Minutes ticked by and you only seemed to get less sleepy. You finally got annoyed enough to get out of bed and go to the living room, but you didn't make it there. You ran straight into a wall of saiyan at the end of the hallway.

"Holy shit! What the hell are you doing out here?" You stepped back and saw him carrying a glass of water.

"I can't sleep so I got a glass of water. That a crime, you tiny pain in the ass?" He asked with a little smirk.

"No, it's not a crime, you giant pain in the ass," you said in a mocking tone.

"Can I sleep with you?"

You knew he meant actual sleep, but your brain processed it in a different way entirely and it left your panties wet.

"Sure," you said, against your better judgement.

He followed you back to your room and walked around to the other side of the bed while you got back under the covers on your side. He laid down and turned on his side to face you.

"Bedroom not comfy enough?" You asked, scooting closer to him. He draped his arm over you and started to fade right away.

"Not that... just didn't have you," he said before drifting off to sleep.

You were wide awake until he started purring, head rested against your shoulder. It didn't matter how much you tried to fight off the feelings you were having for him, they weren't going away. The last thought you had before you finally fell asleep was the realization that you needed Raditz by your side to fall asleep.

A loud crash outside made the entire house shake. Raditz was up in the blink of an eye checking the window to see what it was. His tail fluffed up and moved wildly behind him.

You scrambled out of bed to look for yourself but there was nothing, just the backyard.

"What's wrong, big guy? Are you seeing something I'm not?"

"I need you to stay behind me and if anything happens to me, run," he said, effectively scaring the hell out of you.

"What? You can't just say that with no explanation! What's going on?" Your anxiety skyrocketed as he moved past you to head towards the living room.

"Raditz- "

"Behind me," he snapped.

Before you could protest, the front door was kicked completely off the hinges and left in a mangled heap on the floor. A tall, muscular guy with short, spiky black hair walked in. One eye was covered with some kind of device you had never seen.

"This is what you've been doing, huh? There's something incredibly wrong about a domesticated Saiyan," the man said with a cocky grin.

A shorter man stepped in behind him, black hair shooting towards the sky like small spires. He also had the same device covering one of his eyes and he somehow looked even more intimidating than the bigger one.

"Prince Vegeta, Turles," Raditz said, giving them each a nod.

[shadowtongued]

DISCLAIMER; THIS HAS BEEN IN THE MAKING SINCE DEC 2017, I was just too shy to post it. Keep in mind that I'm not in any way, shape, or form trying to put my headcanons or interpretation of lore over anyone else's and this is pretty much just a general long-form run down for my roleplay blog to help people who aren't familiar with RS, so for my non-RS friends it's more of an explanation of how this 'tall ancient magic alien man' is and works. Physiology and some other cultural blurbs with the occasional emphasis on Sliske, because, well, that's what my roleplay blog is for. This is also mostly a passion project since I'm pretty fixated on this, if you read this at all, kudos to you and ily, ty for coming to my Ted Talk about this. Special thanks to people/friends who put up with me ranting abt this obscure fandom and helped me flesh out headcanons, and @theresiidentdevil  the artwork that i commissioned that i use way too much bc devil really... really did my version of snek man nice. Other imgs used are scrounged from ja.gex’s concept arts and etc. ONCE AGAIN THIS IS NOT CANON, AND JUST MY PERSONAL HYPOTHESIS, feel free to reblog but please don’t like... edit or try to give me heavy crit or come @ me with some lore bit from so-and-sos tweet that I am wrong and am a doodoo head or something. This was just a spot o’ fun and please don’t try to drag my interpretation or expunge this for laughs on the official lore discord. I’ve seen it done before and it’s not cool. individual creative interpretation is beautiful, mob bullying is not.

To kick things off, the Mahjarrat are one of a few ancient tribes that live on the ash, lava, and stone wasteland that makes up the dead planet of Freneskae. They are highly skilled in magic and intellect by nature, as well as living by a firm form of kratocracy; a government by those who are strong enough to seize power through coercive power, social persuasion, or deceptive cunning. Along with this, their survival revolves around two rituals, one of death and sacrifice, the other of life and breeding. That right there should tell you a LOT about them, socially.  

HEIGHT.

Height varies from Mahjarrat to Mahjarrat, they are always going to be towering over most species, and most humans, as lore states that they generally are 1.5x the average human height. Sans that one wild ass gene of hyper height that makes gargantuan Mahjarrat like Lucien and Zemoregal, who tower over even Azzanadra's spike pope hat. Sliske himself stands at an 8′4 height, but that's just my headcanon for this blog's sake.

SKULLS / BONES.

The Mahjarrat have thick skulls, if this wasn't pretty obvious with the additions of dual lines of bony ridges running parallel from the brow to back of the skull, and lower. Some, but not all individuals have rather, short horns as their 'first ridge' before normal ridges. They also seem to have a subtle browbone ridge above each eye. Sliske, as well as some of the canon Mahjarrat we know, have these short horns and I like to exaggerate them a bit as sharp and more obvious, because who doesn't love horns? I'd imagine there are also ridges across other parts of their bodies such as the shoulders, elbows, knees, smaller ones on the knuckles, and perhaps down the back and along the hips. Go wild. Anyways, their skulls are thick and heavy, as in if it comes down to having to head-butt someone at the sacrificial ritual as a last resort physical conflict when magic is exhausted, someone is going to be using every exploit they can to survive. Anything counts when your life is on the line. 

*above concept art is of their lich-like forms. good for seeing skull shapes.

Most also have rather large jawbones and powerful jaw muscles, and have a decent bite force to clamp down; like above, can and will use the force of their jaws if they have to with a good 1,069 psi (pounds per square inch), a little less than a hyena, meaning they can break bones with enough force. The main reasoning for this is their powerful mandible adductor muscles and the leverage needed to keep their jaw closed in their lich-like forms with the loss of skin and some atrophy, when they begin to run low on energy before every 500 years ( more on this later ), otherwise their toothy jaws would be hanging open and they'd look quite silly. It's quite rare for a Mahjarrat to bite unless as a last resort attack, out of spite when healthy ( almost as if saying 'you are weak and aren't worth the waste of magical energy' ), or for other minute reasons. Males tend to have very pronounced 'spikes' on their chins and larger skull ridges, but it's not completely unheard of a female having a 'spiked' chin and larger ridges. Sexual dimorphism isn’t too well explained or solidified by Jagex, we haven’t really seen much due to the few living Mahjarrat we see.

TEETH / CONSUMPTION.

personal interpretation of sliske’s teeth here.

Speaking of teeth, Mahjarrat have exceedingly sharp teeth for being part of a race that is not carnivorous or needing any sustenance at all. They have more teeth than humans (not really canon, just my personal interpretation, I prefer them being very Alien over ‘grey human reskin’); while almost every tooth has a sharpness to it, be it incisors or tines in the molars. Their front teeth seem to be ridged with smaller points, you probably don't want to get nipped by them, even if it's just playful or affectionate (uh, whatever they deem as affection). It's a real shame that Sliske seems to enjoy this, in the few moments he puts on a faux air of affection to scratch an itch or when deciding to use seduction as a ploy to further his manipulation or intel gathering, among other rare, convoluted feelings towards someone he's 'affectionate' with. Teeth shape and sizes can vary due to the Mahjarrat way of breeding and eugenics to create survivability through offspring on what traits work. Basic Darwinism, tbh. Following my ever favorite serpent motif for Sliske, you can expect his teeth to be pretty ophidian/snake-like. Due to my headcanon to their dark blood color, Mahjarrats may have dark or black gums. Small addition: babs do have sharp defensive baby teeth that fall out into hellish adult ones. Nice.

Mahjarrat do not need to eat or drink, as they are fueled fully by an arcane energy that they receive from rituals, and slowly deplete this over several centuries. Their power can last even longer if an individual is stingy with their power, or unaware of their power like Kharshai, who spent several centuries in a human guise hardly using any energy while unaware he was even a Mahjarrat. Despite not needing sustenance, it's not unheard of for Mahjarrat to attempt eating or drinking for whatever reason, be it pleasure or to emulate others. Hazeel's memories almost adorably describe some Mahjarrat attempting to sit and politely eat with humans to 'bond with them', despite them later having to regurgitate what they had eaten and Hazeel's repulsion at any creature eating at all. Several lore snippets include Zamorak enjoying wine and in Kindred Spirits, Sliske making the comment he may be drunk after downing the contents of a bottle. Whether or not they actually can become inebriated or have any sort of digestive system to even mildly uptake anything is debatable. For headcanon's sake, I like to think Sliske has no issue with pleasure eating and for taste, especially chocolate, fully knowing he'll have to bring it back up later. Most Mahjarrat have tongues that can be dark in color to only slightly brighter due to their dark blood color. Like horns, some end up with a slightly bifurcated tongue tip, some do not and have a single, sharp tip. Sliske is an extreme mutated case and has a very obvious black, snake-like, forked tongue. Just don’t ask him to do the thip thip because he won’t.

(WHERE’D YA GET THOSE) EYES / SENSES.

Usually, A Mahjarrat's eyes correspond to the color of the jewel embedded in their crown, but not always. They have very, keen eyes and their eyesight is exceptional to suit the darkness of Freneskae due to the constant ashfall and cloud cover. They can see short distances, but farther into heavy smoke and ash than most species, and can indeed see in the dark with excellent night vision and have a structure similar to an animal's tapetum lucidem, which is what reflects light and makes that eerie glare you see from animals in the dark. Due to spending a lot of time on Freneskae and being well adapted to that environment, it was quite a jolt for them to get accustomed to sunlight on Gielinor when brought during the Menaphite War, as they were used to heavy 'cloudy' weather due to ash blocking out what light they did get, and being used to the constant lightning strikes and the glow of volcanic rifts and lava pools. But they adapt quite well and while they still prefer muted lights, they have no problem in the sunlight after adjusting a bit. Think of when it’s a sunny summer day and you leave your dark house and how for a few minutes you have to acclimate. Sliske has the most trouble with this, seeing as he still spends quite some time in the darkness of the Shadow Realm which is hazy and muted in light. He's quite prone to straining and headaches/migraines from bright lights on Gielinor ( and Earth since a lot of my writing takes place on Modern Earth ).

Mahjarrat have fairly acute senses and sharp ears, and while most concept art shows them similar to human ears, why not lorge, sharp, and pointy ( as not to be so human )? Plus, imagine a few with larger, pointed ones that flick when irritated. That's cute, but deadly. They can hear fairly well and can hear you talking shit. Not exactly up to par with a bat or a moth, but quite up there with horses or cats. I'd imagine the rest of their senses are pretty keen despite not using taste or smell as much as a human, but most senses are still fairly above a human’s.

I'm not exactly sure how they'd fare in the aspect of touch, but it is known that they are very, very strong and can break bones with their bare hands. They have exceptional strength in their bodies and despite teleporting some ways, I'll bet most of them are decently muscular or lean under those robes due to their solidity and a bad example perhaps, but, uh, have you seen Zamorak's exposed chest? I'm sure 'godhood' didn't change that much, albeit some. Who wouldn't love a decently built Enahkra who will hand your ass to you? A babe. Sliske himself, while being one of the leanest of the Mahjarrat, probably has core strength and broad shoulders under those pauldrons. I'd like to imagine he'd also ( as some other of his kin) would be pretty flexible and train his Praetorians to be similar and absolutely strong in the event of having to resort to physical combat or maneuvering out of capture. Most of them were born on Freneskae, a planet made of plenty of solid rock/crystal cliffs and caves, they made pilgrimages pretty often to the ritual site, so some rock climbing was probably involved as they grew. Plus, image small, child Mahjarrat, not able to teleport or be proficient in magic, just out on a day with less lightning, climbing around, chucking rocks into lava for fun. I'm getting off-topic and we'll talk about babbies some other post.

SKIN / STRIPES / SCARRATIONS.

personal interpretation body/stripe of sliske here. (mildly nsfw)

 Skin colorations are usually running the gamut of dark grey, pale grey, and dull color such as a grey-green, grey yellow and more. It's also notable that Mahjarrat are shapeshifters and are known to slowly take on the appearances of the conditions they are in for extended amounts of time; Kharshai becoming more 'viking-esque' like the Fremennik people who took him in when he was unaware he was human, and also Bilrach's warped appearance from spending god knows how long in Daemonheim with larger ridges, scarring, and some more demonic-looking features. Sliske himself has a very deep, dark slate grey skin tone from the amount of time he spends in the dark of the Shadow Realm, beginning to mimic its dusk. 

Mahjarrat have thick skin, built initially to withstand the heat and abrasion of their home world’s rocky and dangerous climate and environment, but also notably protective against icy and snow-fraught climates, as they have little to no issue or complaint at heading far North of the Fremennik Providence, near the icy fortress of Ghorrock where their ritual stone lays on Gielinor ( it's also notable that Jhallan asks the adventurer to re-seal him within a fuggin’ block of ice to rest again, proving they do not mind the cold at all ). Their skin can scar if proper regeneration is not taken to heal wounds, as Mahjarrat are known for almost instantaneously healing themselves of most wounds on the battlefield to their own volition, but this is quite rarely seen on them, sans Bilrach.  For all we know, they could be quite scarred from lack of regeneration fueled by magical energy or quite severe wounds under those robes that cover most of their body, I personally headcanon that some may have some scarring on their hands and forearms due to the might of some of the spells they use. I also personally headcanon Sliske having a pretty nasty burn across his shoulder and ribs trailing to the hip on the left side from Tumeken's explosive self-sacrifice detonation that wiped out the entirety of his army and at least 3/4ths of the Mahjarrat present, sans the ones spared by Azzanadra's quick shielding. I would think that some of them also may have suffered from similar scars due to Kharshai admitting they were tired and wounded after the event.

Striping and markings can litter their forms in sparse or rather heavy. Most Mahjarrat have at least some facial striping that can be a monochrome pale grey or darker, or a bright color such as Wahisietel's bright red trailing across his ridges to his chin spikes, Enakhra's vivid pink colorations, and Khazard's orange striping. While stripes may look similar from individual to individual you are hard-pressed to find two Mahjarrat with identical markings, and we have never heard of any twins being born from their tribe in canon ( Not saying it's not possible! But that would be a lot of strain seeing as once child is hard enough for a pair to conceive ). It's unknown if the stripes are across the rest of their bodies, but I say to hell with it. Why the hell not? Let the stripes go as angular or curvy as they please across their skin. Why limit the imagination. They are aliens. For the sake of me writing Sliske; he's a very pale silvery, parallel stripy thing under those robes with handsome slate skin. Go figure, that's jus' me though. ( Whatddya mean I made a personal ref of that?? s w e a t s?? slight warning for some not safies. )

CLAWS / FEET.

personal interpretation of sliske’s rock climbin’ sharp feets here.

Mahjarrat probably do have clawed hands and feet, and they are thick and sharp, along with strong ( most likely calloused for some ) palms and heels for climbing ( possibly before they were so proficient with teleporting ) They are also prime last resort weapons if need be and constantly need filing down on Gielinor and other terrains since they aren't around the rocky outcrops of Freneskae and using them there as much, most Mahjarrat seem to opt to wear gloves anyway. Their legs and arms are also pretty sturdy for climbing despite not needing to do so as much. I’d imagine they might just have longer toe and finger bones for mild gripping abilities when it comes to climbing. I’ve also kinda headcanoned often that they probably might have wrapped parts of their feet in bindings, just to keep things like soft arches or tendon areas save when climbing or walking. Ancient hellplanet fashion, baby.

GEMS.

Just about all Mahjarrat ( and Dreams of Mah in general ) have at least one 'crystal' or 'gemstone' in their brows or crowns ( whoever in the wiki said Sliske doesn't have one is a fraud, just because we don't see it due his V tapered hood doesn't mean it's not there, as it has been shown in several concept arts that he does have two yellow-green or 'peridotite' colored diamonds, like his half-brother’s four of the same color ). When asked about it in the Children of Mah quest, Wahisietel states that even they are not sure as to why they have them but believe it to be a direct connection to Mah. It's also implied that a dead Mahjarrat's 'crystal' often records their last thoughts or actions. Most Mahjarrat have the exact same bright iris color as their stones ( the concept art with Sliske having gold eyes throws me off, but I'd imagine there could be some minor color differences ). It seems that gemstones look-alike from siblings and offspring, as Sliske and his half-brother Wahisietel have almost the same colored crystal and shape despite Wahisietel having four diamonds to Sliske's two.

 ORGANS? OR LACK THEREOF? 

personal interpretation of nasty snake man blood here.

It's truly unknown as to just how many organs Mahjarrat have and if there is any comparison to be made to humans. It can be hypothesized they do have at least a heart ( With more chambers than a humans? Or two! Who knows! ) and lungs. If they do have lungs, it could be stated that they are very strong and made to filter out the heavy ash and debris of Freneskae's poor air quality, our adventurer had enough trouble breathing on Freneskae if you didn't take face gear. They do not seem to have a digestive tract as they do not need sustenance or hydration and perhaps have a makeshift stomach that leads nowhere as if they do eat anything, they just have to regurgitate it. Onto blood, they possibly do have a circulatory system and blood, as Lucien states he didn't 'want to spill any more Mahjarrat blood'. Normal human blood would be a bit boring so I like to imagine they have thick, dark-colored blood that has some iridescent properties to it ( not glittery, but if you have ever seen what the ink in a ballpoint pen looks like when dumped out, it has a particular shine to it. ) and never seems to be just one color, like an oil slick. Probably because it's so rich in arcane properties which would also make it pretty toxic, bitter, or awfully sickly sweet. This also means that they would blush pretty dark in color and have dark-colored tongues and etc. rather than red like humans, that's.... kinda cute.  Also, if we are talking about organs and parts, a small blurb, no, female Mahjarrat do not have boobs. There's no need since they probably do not feed their young at all. So breaking canon for the sake of biology, hi, Mahjarrat probably don't have boobs or nips. Kinda doesn’t make sense. SHRUG. But they do have belly buttons, so maybe they are gestated with umbilical cords.

THE BANE OF THE JMOD’S EXISTENCE: MAHJARRAT REPRODUCTION

Y'all wanted it Jmods yell when we ask for it, here it is: my reproduction hypothesis. We have little to no real canon lore for Mahjarrat other than that they do(?) reproduce sexually, it takes a lot of energy to do so (abt 50% physical effort, 50% the pair pooling their life energy into the event, kinda dangerous), and that they are culturally fond of breeding during earthquakes ( this was just a cultural tradition and it's probably possible to breed outside of this tradition, the jokes say it’s almost Pavlovian ). They have a specific ritual for breeding, The Ritual of Enervation. The Enervation is the foil of a Ritual of Rejuvenation where one of their kind is sacrificed to provide all others with energy and return them from their lich-like states to fleshy filled out ones, the Enervation is a pilgrimage to select a mate and breed to create a new Mahjarrat between a pair. It's slightly hinted that the pair chooses their mate based upon battle prowess or cunningness ( Zemouregal Senior chose his mate based on her skills in battle ) . Much like real animals today, they want only the strongest genetics and mutations to continue on. All of them fight each other for their pick of a mate. Very rarely do the pairs have any emotional attachment, this is rare. And the ritual still isn't pretty; I'll say it, they are rough lovers. Expect biting, scratching, bruising, and more. Kinky. Let me tell you, human genitalia are boring as hell when you are describing aliens. Phallic genitalia differs a lot from individual to individual, it's a slight 'grab bag to see what part works best for future genetics'. Mahjarrat bits are pretty internal until aroused since it makes no sense for them to be external seeing as all Mahjarrat lose a lot of skin and muscle to atrophy as they age and lose energy, so they'd do better internally and tucked away. Vaginal genitalia differs heavily as well, anything goes. Barbs? Sure. Flowery looking bits? Sure. It's aliens, guys. Go wild. Same thing with sexualities and genders, other than what they want to present themselves as, we don't know shit, so go for it. I'm fairly sure Mahjarrat really don't mind gender identity and anything goes, they see power, survival, and fighting over everything else. Sliske, of course, is male presenting and yes, has his own unique bits. Uh, ridges, bifurcated tip, fan-like appendage for preventing backflow. I'd describe more but I'm already pRETTY FUCKING SHY RIGHT NOW BC I DON'T KNOW HOW TO talk much abt this. I'm a beginner alien fucker. Give me a break. UPDATE: I went there, I no longer have shame. bc I roughly drew it.

I’m not sure what the good estimate would be when it comes to how long a Mahjarrat gestates, is it longer than a human? Quicker due to magic? We just don’t know. The birth rate is exceedingly low due to the dangers and strain of Freneskae, it's not unheard of for miscarriages or mothers to pass away from lack of energy or during the fray of the constant other tribes attacking each other. Generally, it's a duty to protect a gravid mother of the sake of population, mate or not. Putting aside your disdain for your nemesis was hard but needed if you wanted to keep your tribe thriving. Fathers don't tend to stick around after the ritual other than to check in to protect their child and future genetics as insurance. Mothers rear children and if they could get along and not spat at one another, often looked after each other's children. Maternal groups were pretty common and one could leave another to watch their kids while they went off on their duties of making lightning rods, scouting, and more. 

MISC? 

Mahjarrats don't exactly have the same bonds as humans and familial life was harsh, mainly due to the stress of knowing your own blood one day might betray you and vote you off to be the sacrifice at a ritual. They are not affectionate as much as humans and care in their own backwards way about each other if they are family, but it's an arm's length approach. Sliske and Wahisietel seem to get along and still probably have their ferocious verbal quarrels and have possibly even physically scuffled a bit over things, but managed to have concern for one another, as do Mahjarrat who are as best a definition of 'friends' can be to them. Remember that they are very paranoid of one another and usually only see eye to eye if in the same political faction or having to make a deal or coerce one another to stand up for you if you are challenged at a ritual ( later on this became a huge political agenda between the two main sides; Zamorakian or Zarosian and fighting intensified at dislike for each other ). As they evolved from their creation, they just generally became more and more mistrustful of each other to point of paranoia. So affection is incredibly weird to them and the first thought that comes from it is 'what do you want and why?' and it's expected to be a deceitful notion. Hence, Sliske is incredibly good at persuading others and using deceitful action to lure people but the moment it's done to him, he'll play along but consider it warily as false notions. Sorry not sorry, that's pretty habitual to him and will stay with him, as well as his kin. You're never going to have a 'stable relationship' with any Mahjarrat. Well, not 100% at least. You can try, they might even appreciate it if they aren’t offended.

That’s about all I wanted to say and anything left out of this word spew can be covered in other posts. Like culture.... or babbies. I have a lot to say about Babjarrats but no place right now to keep up this long shit.  UPDATE: i talked abt my thoughts on babjarrats. it was the best of my life.

[jontracy]

3. "I may be an idiot, but I'm not stupid." With Gordon and Alan? :O I love your writing so much

It was a rare morning that Alan came downstairs to find the living areas of the villa empty. Grandma was almost always up before everyone else, using the time to read or dust or think up new culinary concoctions with which to torture her grandsons. Scott was also an early riser, getting up at an ungodly hour to work out and deal with Tracy Industries or IR business. Even Virgil was known to rise with the sun every once in a while; something about there being some golden hour that was perfect for art.

That morning though, Alan was alone when he stumbled down to the kitchen. It took his sleep-addled brain a long minute to remember that Scott had taken Grandma to her 55th college reunion, Virgil and Brains were at an engineering conference in Switzerland, and Kayo was in Chicago, teaching a self-defense class to two dozen teenage schoolgirls.

Which meant that, for the first time in Tracy family history, the Tinies had the island to themselves.

As the realization dawned, Alan did the only reasonable thing that could be expected: he raced up to Gordon’s room and let himself in, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Rise and shine, my partner in crime! We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

The Gordon-shaped lump under the mound of blankets on the bed just let out a muffled groan. Alan frowned and turned on the lights. There was a slightly more disgruntled sounding groan. A tuft of messy blond hair was the only sign of Gordon still visible.

“C’mon, this is no day to sleep in!” Alan declared, marching forward to grab the edge of the blankets. “We- Jesus.”

He blinked down at the pitiful sight he’d unearthed. Gordon’s face was the color of moldy milk, save for the bright spots on his cheeks and his inflamed nose. His lips were chapped and slightly parted, his breath audible as an unhealthy whistle. His blue and green pajama shirt was stuck to his torso with sweat.

“Are you dead?” Alan asked.

“Yep.” Geez, even Gordon’s voice sounded like crap. “Throw me a nice funeral.”

“I don’t think people throw funerals.”

“Then they’re clearly not doing it right.” Gordon finally cracked an eye open to peer at Alan. It was bloodshot and watery. “It’s been nice knowing you, bro.”

Alan sighed, mentally shifting gears. Not how he’d expected this day to go, but hey; part of being a member of International Rescue meant that you had to learn to adapt to your situation.

“Don’t go getting mushy on me now,” he said. “If you die, who’s gonna help me switch the labels on all of Virgil’s paint bottles?” He pulled the covers the rest of the way off Gordon. “Come on. If I’m gonna take care of you, it’s not gonna be in this cesspool.”

Gordon’s room always had the unfortunate tendency to smell like feet and seaweed, and that was before you even considered the biohazard disaster that was its actual contents.

“Or you could just leave me here to die,” Gordon suggested.

Alan rolled his eyes. Instead of arguing further, he just leaned in and dug his fingers into the sensitive spot on Gordon’s side. Gordon let out a noise like a drunk ferret getting run over, and toppled out of his bed. Alan grabbed him before he could hit the floor, and dragged him upright and out of the room, grimacing as he realized just how sweaty his brother really was. But he was committed by then, so he persisted in hauling Gordon to the main room, where he deposited him on the couch.

He liked to think that when Gordon opened his mouth, it was for the express purpose of thanking Alan for being the world’s best and most thoughtful little brother, but he would never know, because instead of words coming out, Gordon released the wettest, most violent sneeze that Alan had ever had the misfortune to be standing in front of.

“Ew, dude!” Alan complained, recoiling and wiping at his face with the back of his hand.

“I did tell you to leave me,” Gordon said, grabbing a pillow and curling his body around it, the picture of misery. “Just save yourself. It’s too late for me.”

Alan gazed skyward, searching for strength. They clearly weren’t going to get anywhere without some kind of chemical intervention.

“Stay put, Mr. Melodramatic,” Alan ordered, before setting off for the medical facility buried within Tracy Island.

When he returned with a box of tissues and a bottle of the cold and flu medicine that Scott always gave him when he was sick, it was to find Gordon shivering and sounding for all the world like he was trying to cough up one or both of his lungs.

Alan winced in sympathy. Gordon may have been melodramatic, but he also really was miserable.

“Here,” Alan said, holding out the bottle. “This has always helped me. I just need to find the little dose dispenser thing-” he broke off and watched in morbid fascination as Gordon snatched the bottle and chugged half of its contents in a single swig. “Uh…”

Gordon made a face and sneezed again. And again.

“It’s not working,” he said.

Alan snatched the bottle back before Gordon could drink any more of it. He studied the ingredient list, wondering just how likely it was that today was going to involve a flight to the nearest emergency room or poison control center. He couldn’t make sense of any of the active ingredients listed though. Most of them sounded like diseases themselves.

So he retreated to the loft, where he could keep an eye on Gordon without being within earshot, and pulled up his personal comm.

John answered about two microseconds after he called.

“What’s wrong?” he asked before Alan could get so much as a word out. “Scott can be there in less than an hour. There are fire extinguishers in-”

“Whoa, hey,” Alan protested, raising a hand. He glared suspiciously at his brother. “Have you just been sitting around waiting for something to go wrong?”

John flushed slightly, but raised an eyebrow.

“So nothing’s wrong?” he asked, skeptical.

“Well…nothing is on fire,” Alan said. “Geez, I’m not five.”

“No, but historically, when you and Gordon are left to your own devices, there are casualties.”

Alan wanted to argue, but realized that may not have been an unfair assessment. He shook his head, switching tacks.

“Whatever. We’re behaving. Now, don’t let this question alarm you, but hypothetically speaking, how much of that nasty kind of cold medicine is too much?”

John’s eyebrows nearly got lost in his hairline.

“Alan-”

“Hypothetically.”

John just shook his head with a sigh.

“All right, hypothetically, do you see the little cap that comes with the bottle?”

“Yeah.”

“One capful is an adult dose.”

Yeah, Alan had been afraid of that.

John must have read his expression correctly, because he went on.

“But if someone were, hypothetically, to take too much, they wouldn’t be in any real danger. But there would be some side effects that someone keeping a very close eye on them would have to be prepared for.”

“What kind of side effects?”

“Do you remember when Virgil got his wisdom teeth out?”

Alan’s eyes widened.

“Oh, God.”

John smirked.

“Have fun,” he said. “Call me if you need anything. I can be down there in twenty minutes.”

He disappeared. Alan leaned over the loft railing to give Gordon a dubious look. His brother blinked benignly back at him. Alan wondered how long it would take for the medication to take effect.

He returned to the main floor and perched on the edge of one of the couches, facing Gordon.

“Dude, why are you staring at me?” Gordon asked. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, I’m just waiting for you to start crying about the fact that penguins don’t get to know what it’s like to fly, like Virgil did when he was doped up on painkillers.”

“Oh, come on. This stuff isn’t that strong,” Gordon said, grabbing the bottle of medicine from where Alan had left it. He peered down at it for a long moment, thoughtful. “It says it’s Arctic Berry flavored,” he observed. His expression pinched. “Do berries even grow in the arctic? Wouldn’t they need hats? Who makes all the little berry hats, Alan?”

He stared earnestly at Alan, who could do nothing but stare back for a moment. Well, that hadn’t taken long.

When it became clear that Gordon was actually waiting for an answer, Alan managed, “I don’t know, Gords. Maybe they grow them in greenhouses and they don’t need hats at all.”

“Oh. That’s nice. I don’t like the cold.” Gordon looked down at the bottle again. “I wonder what Arctic Berries smell like.”

He raised the bottle to his nose, and a wet gurgling sound commenced. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner trying to suck up wet concrete. Gordon’s face started to turn purple as he continued to try to inhale through nasal passages that were just having none of it.

“Okay, how ‘bout we table that question till you can breathe?” Alan suggested, taking the bottle from Gordon again.

Gordon stared forlornly after it as Alan set it aside.

“I don’t think I would grow well in the arctic,” he decided, the words carrying the weight of a life-altering revelation.

“Well, it doesn’t look like you grew well in the tropics, either.”

Alan wished Gordon were with it enough to appreciate that one. He thought about calling John back just to share, but John would probably just shake his head in disappointment.

Alan looked at his brother critically. He wasn’t used to being on this side of illnesses. Whenever one of the brothers got sick, Scott or Virgil were usually the ones to take care of them. But Alan had been through enough cold and flu seasons to know the drill. He could do this.

“So, Gordon, do you want to go back to sleep?” he asked, hopeful. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Gordon frowned.

“Why, what’s wrong with me?” he asked.

“You mean aside from the fact that you look like Dr. Frankenstein hasn’t gotten around to bringing you back to life yet?”

Gordon clapped his hands to his neck.

“Am I gonna start growing bolts?” he demanded in a horrified whisper.

Alan was utterly nonplussed, until he remembered that Gordon had always been a movie purist, and he liked the original version of the Frankenstein movie, cheesy monster effects and all. Well, Alan could work with that.

“Only if you don’t take a nap,” he said.

Gordon threw himself down at once, shutting his eyes. Alan blinked, surprised that it had worked so quickly. He watched Gordon cautiously for a moment, waiting for…what, he wasn’t quite sure.

When nothing happened, he sat down again a safe distance from Gordon’s cloud of germs and grabbed his tablet from where he’d left it the night before. He pulled up his favorite video game and started playing. He didn’t know what John had looked so amused about; this was gonna be easy.

“Won’t being asleep make it easier for Frankenstein to find me?”

Or not.

Alan sighed and looked up at Gordon, whose eyes were wide open now. He’d managed to curl his body up into a ball that fit on just one sofa cushion, his arms wrapped around his knees in a death grip as if he were afraid that any protruding limbs would be summarily eaten.

“Nope,” Alan told him. “He’s like the reverse Santa Claus. He knows when you’re sleeping, and he doesn’t come then. Your snoring scares him off.”

This only served to petrify Gordon further.

“But I don’t snore, Alan!” he cried. “So he won’t get scared away!”

Alan stared at his brother, dumbfounded.

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You sound like a category 3 earthquake when you sleep, healthy. You might actually cause an earthquake with your nose all plugged up.”

Gordon looked affronted.

“That’s not true!” he protested, sniffing (or trying to) and turning his head away. But then he froze.

“I told you!” he hissed, barely moving his lips. “He didn’t know, and now he’s here for me!”

“…What?”

Gordon raised a trembling hand to point. Alan followed the direction of his finger. His eyebrow rose.

“Gordon, that’s Scott,” he said, slowly. “His picture has always been there.”

Gordon flashed him a derisive look.

“Yeah, right,” he said. “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.” He froze again, and then rounded on Alan. “Are you working with him?” he asked, his eyes glistening at the thought of his brother’s betrayal.

“With Scott?” Alan asked. “Depends on the day. Gordon, you’re safe. Dr. Frankenstein isn’t gonna get you. Neither is Scott, for that matter.”

Which, naturally, was the exact moment Scott chose to check on his youngest brothers.

“Hey, Alan, John told me-” Scott’s projected image broke off abruptly as a bloodcurdling scream rent the air.

Scott and Alan watched in varying levels of bemusement as Gordon continued to shriek at the top of his lungs as he scrambled over the back of the couch and went to hide under Dad’s desk.

Wordlessly, Scott turned his eyes on Alan, who felt his face heat.

“So, hypothetically…”