#also ignore the fact that i kept spelling antenna instead of antennae

[hdra77]

(pfp anon again hi sorry you're just so much fun to bother)

Ehehe more questions: some people depict NSH with antennae, is there any reason yours doesn't have any? Is there any AU where you'd give him some? Is he Sad because No Antennae or is he Perfectly Content?

hello again!! i'd say hes just built different like that or he did something so remotely stupid that he lost them. i could honestly see him doing something like that actually LMAO tinkering and messing around with his antennae out of pure boredom and he decided to just, keep it

he is pretty chill with it though, like he just accepted it and thought 'oh hey this isn't so bad at all!! i look good!'

now as for the AUs!! theres usually 4 of them but voided au shares the same design as this sig

so far theres just one whose got an antennae LMAO also,, disarray au sig design sneak peak 👀

have a little doodle of him with a pair of antennae !!

[buglife]

Bend and Not Break - Ch 1: A Mark

Anonymous said: Not sure if someone has requested this yet, but I’d love to see how the cast would react to an assassin coming after Ghost or Quirrel. I mean, there’s gotta be some bugs out there who don’t adore the new sovereigns right?

Anonymous said: If your still doing these (if not I’m really sorry and please just ignore me) may I request 17: “Ok, well… Fuck.” With Quirrel and Ghost being his knight in shining armour.

Read here on AO3 :3

Quirrel looked in the mirror, sighing to himself as he regarded his reflection. He was due to make a public appearance today along with Ghost, so he had to look the part of a King. He still didn’t feel much like a king, not really. He felt more like he did when he was helping his mother run the archives, which was a lot of running around and keeping people from losing their fingers to explosives. It wasn’t all about preventing disasters, it was also about fostering the love of learning and the curiosity that makes society better. So in a way...he felt the same now as he did then. There was more paperwork, of course, but he was happy. It helped that he had a spouse to share the load with.

He fiddled with the ring on his left hand, the pale ore gleaming in the light. It had been made from Ghost’s old nail, with them having a matching ring. They had long since outgrown the old nail, and most of it was used in making the pure nail he now carried. Still, it was something special that their rings were made with the metal that helped kill a god and started the rebirth of Hallownest. Smith and Sheo were absolutely delighted to work on them, and now the both of them had completely unique nails and rings that will probably last forever.

Today was going to be a rather emotional day for Ghost. He remembered them telling him snippets about the Soul Sanctum here and there. They could only mention what they were comfortable talking about, and it wasn’t much of it that qualified as such. Sometime during their journey to end the infection, they had entered the Soul Sanctum and put down the mad scientist within along with his equally mad followers. Grandeurs of immortality and power was enough to corrupt any bug, but from what he heard, the ones involved went far beyond corruption. It was evil. Pure evil. Ghost usually stopped talking at around that point, and Quirrel found himself cuddling them as they sought comfort to ease what they cannot forget.

The worst day perhaps, was when the Kingdom had established themselves enough to expand beyond bare necessities. As soon as the funds was available, Ghost had the Soul Sanctum completely stripped down to the bare walls and floors. They had gone that day to oversee it all and when they returned, they could barely hold themselves together. They spent the night crying, mourning the lives lost in the pursuit of power. They had given the dead within rest, but it still destroyed them on the inside to have to return to that place. Quirrel did his best to help, and many a sleepless night was spent together, attempting to heal deep wounds within.

They had recovered, in time. Stripping the place had done a lot to help them move on from the experience, and they had decided to turn it into something new. Something useful that would help bugs and not harm them. Something that promoted life, not take them away.

Its where they were going today, to officially open it up to the public. Quirrel would be there not only as a fellow ruler, but as support for Ghost. Despite it all, it was going to be hard for them.

Quirrel smoothed back his antenna and tied his silk kerchief around his head. It was a necessary habit he picked up while growing up with his mother. After burning his antenna one too many times due to splashes of acid or a chemical reaction gone wrong, he tended to pin them back. They got in the way sometimes, but once in a while he felt safe enough to let them out. The palace didn’t really have acid, or volatile chemicals, but old habits die hard.

He clipped on his cloak, letting the study fabric fall around his shoulders as he pinned it in place. It was a lovely blue, nearly iridescent, and clasped with a pale ore brooch that designated him as king. There was no way he could ever bring himself to wear something as tacky as a crown. Hell, Ghost wouldn’t even be able to fit one on their head. Instead, brooches seemed to fit a whole lot better.

Once he made sure his nail was strapped to his side, he deemed himself ready, and exited the room - only to nearly smack into his spouse, who was opening the door at the same time.

“Oof!” Running into Ghost wasn’t as fun as it was when they were little. Back then their shell was soft and kinda squishy like any other grub. But once stasis ended and they caught up on all their missed molts, their chitin had become tough and hard.

“Are you alright?” Ghost’s telepathy was soft and gently breezed by his mind. It’s just something gods could do, apparently. Their sire could, Quirrel knew that as a fact, but the fact they also ate a god boosted their ability to communicate without relying on sign language. They only ‘spoke’ like this to family and friends, a little too nervous to use it on the public. Quirrel hoped that would change with time.

He didn’t blame them, though. They were terrified of being considered scary. They were certainly imposing, but not as much as their sibling, Hollow. There were those that will always be scared of them, with them being a god and immensely powerful. But enough of their subjects loved them enough to not care. He just wished they could see it. Quirrel considered them handsome and cute, but then again, he was biased.

“I’m okay love, I was about to go and find you.” Quirrel smoothed down the front of his cloak and picked at Ghosts, adjusting it around a little. “It’s nearly time.”

Ghost was silent for a moment, and then leaned down to softly bonk their forehead against theirs. “I know.”

“You’ll be fine. That place doesn’t exist anymore.” He did his best to soothe any lingering nerves. Being around Ghost for so long as alerted him to their various tells. “It’s a better place now. Much better.”

They nodded slowly and let out a deep breath. “You are right. It is just hard to let go of what it was.”

“I understand, it will take a while, but you are doing great.” Quirrel took Ghost’s claws in his and gently squeezed. “Come along then, we don’t want to be late to the dedication.”

Ghost tilted their mask up in a smile, and then nodded. They bent down to steal a quick kiss, one that Quirrel returned, and together, they headed to the Stag Station.

----

The Capital was bustling, like always. It no longer was the City of Tears, not with the new revitalization of Hallownest. The rain had been stopped, redirected with new plant life growing on the ceiling. Lurien himself helped renew the spells that kept the water from outright pouring out of the lake above. Without being constantly rained on, more bugs were out and about. Today however, they were gathering in front of what used to be the Soul Sanctum, waiting around a platform where their rulers would be giving a speech. Most bugs were eager to enter the newly renovated building, because it was for them, and them alone.

The Soul Sanctum, which had brought so much death and misery to so many lives, had been converted into a multi-level communal greenhouse. There, farmer bugs would grow a verity of food, which is then free to be picked and used by the public. Taxes from the upper members of society will be used to keep the place running. That way, no bug would have to go hungry. The intimidating and Gothic architecture of the building had been transformed into a pillar of glass and green. It was now friendly, the oppressive air from before banished into a place of shelter. Not only could you go there to eat, but you can go there to rest among some of the floors dedicated to flowers. It was a gift, from the rulers of New Hallownest to the people, and the people were waiting to be allowed in to enjoy it.

The five new knights of Hallownest stood in various places around the crowd. So far, they didn’t need to do much but remind some citizens to calm down and not crowd each other. With Xena on her beast (named Pickles, but only she can call them that), it was easy to keep everyone in line. Cloth stole a quick moment to wave to Myla in the crowd, temporarily breaking protocol, but it wasn’t like Tiso was going to scold her for that, since he did the same thing. Once he finished his quick wave to his other date friend, he scanned the crowd and recognizing a few folks from Dirtmouth as well. A lot of people showed up to this dedication, hell, he even spotted a few spiders and bees in the crowd. It just made him scan the crowd more thoroughly. Threats could come from anywhere, and he took security very seriously.

It wasn’t long before he spotted the Kings approach the platform and climb on, waiting for the crowds cheering to die down before they began the ceremony. Quirrel was doing the speaking today, Ghost standing beside them and holding his hand. Tiso remembered when Ghost was small enough to pick up and throw. It was lots of fun, but now they were too big for that. Oh well. As soon as the crowd’s noise died down, Quirrel tapped a speaking stone on the provided podium and his voice was projected outwards to be heard by everyone.

“Hello to you all, our dear subjects. Today we continue to do our very best to provide for you, our people, whom we dearly love and cherish. This site was a place of tragedy, and pain, part of the past of old Hallownest that was rife with corruption and oversight. But today we have washed away the dark and terrible past, to bring in the new, which is full of hope and life. We have -”

Quirrel had always been a good speaker. But Tiso wasn’t here to hear a speech. He heard it before, when Quirrel had asked him and his fellow knights to hear it and give honest feedback. Tiso had suggested Quirrel get to the damn point because nobody liked just standing around, so he thankfully cut the speech down by half.

There were bugs everywhere. Bugs in the square, bugs that could climb were hanging on buildings, bugs looking out windows, bugs on roofs, everywhere. Tiso scanned them all, eyes narrowed. It was no lie that there were bugs out there who didn’t agree with the direction the new government was taking, especially having another god as a ruler. Ghost and Quirrel had managed to piss off the right people. They were the folks that enjoyed profiting by gaming the system, and that system came tumbling down once Ghost claimed the throne. It got even worse when they married Quirrel, who was scarily smart. Quickly it became obvious that nobody was going to get away with old hustles anymore.

Quirrel continued talking, and Tiso continued watching. Then, something caught his eye. A glint of metal shined on one of the rooftops, a figure crouched down behind it. The glint moved, and Tiso’s heart went cold.

“GET DOWN!”  He shouted, and with a heft, threw his shield as hard as he could. Bugs instantly dropped to the ground and the knights gathered to the podium. The shield whistled through the air, and with a satisfying clunk, impacted the bug on the roof. There was a brief shout of pain, and then came the thwip as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in the podium. It was obviously aimed for the pillbug’s head, and it missed him by scant inches. Someone in the crowd screamed and it started a chain reaction of panic. Cloth and Ogrim took crowd duty, ushering the crowd into nearby buildings to get them off the streets and away from the danger.

Xena was already heading up to the roof atop her beast, the creature climbing up the sides with frightening speed. Tiso flashed his soul and recalled his shield, just in time to hear the bug on the roof start screaming once the beast reached it’s fanged maw out and grabbed them. He trusted Xena to keep at least enough of them alive for questioning later.

To add more chaos to the mix, some bugs in the crowd dropped their cloaks, revealing nails, and rushed the podium.

“No more gods! No more masters!” Some of them shouted. The sentiment was echoed by the other assassins as they parted through the crowd, not caring about who they knocked over or trampled in their haste. Bugs continued to scream, struggling to get out of the way as some were simply tossed aside to make way. Tiso could hear grubs wailing and the sharp clang of metal as some of the bugs in the crowd took up their own nails. They were valiantly trying to hold back the assassins, who cruelly cut them down and left them to bleed out. Thankfully medics were among the guards, and they quickly raced out to try and save the injured civilians.

So this was a coordinated assassination attempt, usually they were done by singular bugs. They must have gotten a little smarter. Tiso was about to jump into the fray, only to hold back when Hollow sped past him and body checked an assassin so hard that he could hear the chitin cracking from where he stood. Ouch.  He let Hollow do their thing and barked out orders to his guardsmen. They had to get everything under control, and fast.

However, the Kings of Hallownest were no pushovers. Quirrel practically teleported, moving with an insane amount of speed to kill an assassin with a flash of their nail. Since the crossbow bolt was aimed at him, Ghost was especially pissed. They were trying their best to not change into their true, terrifying form and completely destroy the square they worked so hard to rebuild. Judging by the extra three pairs of eyes that opened on their mask, they were barely holding on. Tiso did not blame them.

One assassin got lucky, moving at just the right time to scratch their nail along Quirrel’s side. He let out a hiss of pain and leapt backwards, ignoring the wound for now. He moved to retaliate, only to see said assassin become a smear of hemolymph on the platform. He glanced up to see an absolutely furious Ghost retract a void tentacle back into their body, still coated in a thin sheen of gore.

“Are you okay?” Ghost’s mental voice was now tight, louder. Quirrel could hear the rumbling of the void in behind, overlapping as the power of a god began to leak through Ghost’s control.

“Yes dear, just a scratch.” Quirrel sidestepped another assassin, bringing his nail around to cleanly slice off their nail arm. The assassin screamed, now missing an arm, and was quickly grabbed by Ghost and slammed bodily into the ground. Ghost then proceeded to kick them into the nearest building, cracking the stone slightly and leaving said bug a quivering mess.

As quickly as it all began, it was over. In total there were eight assassins. Three were outright dead, most due to Ghost. The rest were maimed and beaten bloody, but were alive. They weren’t too sure if the ones Hollow got to would survive or not. Either way, they weren’t going to get out of the situation alive, either by the executioner’s axe or dying from their wounds. Tiso had ordered the spare guard out, and there was a city wide search for more conspirators. There was no way to tell how many were out there, at least, until the prisoners were questioned. Something Tiso was going to enjoy doing so very much.

Ghost was panting, trying to calm down after losing their control for the bare moments it took for the fight to finish. Quirrel shivered, also breathing heavily. Adrenaline was surging through his body still and he doubted he’d be able to calm down anytime soon. Ghost had grabbed him, holding him tight as they too, shook. For a being designed to have no emotions, Ghost sure wore theirs on their sleeve, frantically patting Quirrel down for injuries. He knew what they were afraid of, and he stopped their hands with his to prevent their anxiety from taking over their rational thought.

“I’m okay love, it’s just a scratch.” He had time to look at his wound, bleeding blue. It wasn’t even terribly deep. It would just need some cleaning and some shell paste. If anything, it was making a mess of his cloak. The cleaners were going to have an absolute fit about it. He sighed as Ghost moved their hands to the wound, clearly worried.

“Your Majesties!” Ogrim hurried over. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine, thank you. What of the assassins'?” Quirrel again, moved his hands to hold Ghost’s as he listened to Ogrim.

“Captured. We have guards scouring the city for anything suspicious.” The dung beetle looked about the now empty square, watching the assassins that were dead being dragged away. “Tiso and Xena are going to head an investigation once they interrogate-”

Ghost whistled, stopping Ogrims words. “I will interrogate them.”

“Your majesty, are you sure, you-”

“I am very sure.” They had since hunched protectively over Quirrel, arms like a gate around him. The malice in their 'voice' wasn't hard to miss, something Ogrim picked up on. He was always able to pick out the tiniest of details.

Ogrim bowed his head, but spoke plainly. “With all due respect, as your knight, and as your friend, I urge you to at least let the captain and his lieutenant do their job first before you decide to do anything.”

“Ogrim is right, love.” Quirrel reached up to cup Ghost’s cheek, hand oddly feeling weak. Perhaps he was still worked up? He started feeling a little dizzy, maybe he needed somewhere quiet to de-stress for a little while. He wouldn't mind retreating back to their bedroom to cuddle for a while. That should be able to do the trick nicely. Still, he continued with his advice. “You are too worked up right now. You need to calm down first. We both do.”

Ghost shook for a moment, and then took a few deep breaths. “Okay. Please tell Tiso and Xena to get as much from the prisoners as they can. I will be there shortly.”

Ogrim nodded. “Of course, Cloth and Hollow will be here soon and they will be able to escort you back to the palace.”

Quirrel started to say something and then was hit by a sudden wave of light headedness. He grabbed onto Ghost’s arm to steady himself as he momentarily lost feeling in his legs.

Ogrim and Ghost noticed that for sure. “Your majesty?” Ogrim questioned, reaching out a claw to offer support.

“No no- I’m fine...I’m..” The world twisted and a spike of pain and nausea punctured his gut. He suddenly couldn’t tell which way was up or down anymore. His legs gave out and through an increasing and concerning wave of numbness, he felt himself being caught.

“QUIRREL!!”  The mental shout was loud, and with it came more noises he couldn’t quite make out.

Ok, well… fuck.” The pain seemed to get worse, now a burning sensation that spread from the wound on his side to the very core of his body. His lungs hurt. His heart hurt. A disturbing wave of pain twisted around his limbs and went right into his brain. It suddenly got more difficult to breathe as he clutched his spouse with his claws.

He was dimly aware of someone screaming desperately, echoing around his head as he lost the ability to understand it, he was too busy gasping for breath.

The noises blended together until finally, there was nothing but darkness.

-----

“In you go, ya fucker.” Tiso not so gently tossed one assassin, a particularly nasty looking cricket, onto the stone floor of the dungeon cell. They had given just the bare amount of medical care necessary to keep them alive. The worst injury was the stump where their nail arm used to be, cleanly cut in half by the biggest nerd in the kingdom. “This’ll be your new home for a while, but it can get a little nicer if you decide to talk.”

“It won’t make any difference,” The cricket spat a wad of hemo on the floor. “I’m dead anyway.”

“True…” Tiso mused, leaning on the bars to stare the other bug right in the eyes. “But would you rather prefer a quick death, or being dragged kicking and screaming into the void? Cause let me tell you, I’d rather take a beheading over that. That shit is fucked up.”

“Typical of a tyrant.”

“You seriously calling the squirt and the nerd tyrants? I mean, they literally were about to open a public greenhouse so that everyone can eat before you idiots crashed it.” Tiso tapped his shield against the bars, making the metal ting in the most annoying way possible. He absolutely loved messing with prisoners like that, it made them slip up more often than not. Tiso learned more from pissing off the prisoners than he ever did 'nicely' interrogating them. “I don't know about you, but that don’t sound like tyrants to me.”

“All gods, are tyrants.” The doomed assassin moved to sit up, resting their back against the cold stone walls. Their movements were awkward, now that they were missing an arm. “The Pale King was. The Radiance was. Even the White Lady. Now we have an even more powerful tyrant as our king! We can’t keep letting ourselves become playthings for monsters!”

“Call them a monster one more time and I’ll feed ya to Xena’s beast, and the beast chews slowly.” Tiso narrowed his eyes at the bug on the other side of the bars. He could roughly hear the other prisoners being tossed in their cells as well. Judging by the echoes, they were spouting the same nonsense and getting zero sympathy for it. “You’re a fucking idiot, you think you can just kill our Kings like that? King Ghost killed the Radiance, for fucks sake!”

The cricket smiled through their broken mandibles, dribbling hemo over their cloak. “No, we can’t kill the tyrant, but we can hurt them.”

Tiso stared, shocked by the words. A very bad feeling sat in his gut, and was quickly vindicated when Cloth rounded the corner.

“Tiso!” she shouted. “It’s Quirrel!”

“Yeah?” The bad feeling grew stronger and he desperately prayed to whatever was listening, that the next words out of his love's mouth wasn’t going to be bad news.

“Quirrel...he's...He’s been poisoned!”

Tiso’s world went numb, and all he could hear was the insane laughter of the prisoner behind him.

[crustaceans-and-fankids]

Kekara Ancestors (3 of 3)

KEKARA ANCESTORS (PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

Zhavala

Zhavala’s initial nature in her youth was utterly insecure, uncertain, and unstable due to constant hatred against her and her kind and issues with abandonment by people whom she thought she could trust. In adulthood, this was replaced with a more ravenous nature brought upon by more misfortune and a combined repression of negative emotional experiences.

In Zhavala’s time, Mutants were not cast out. They were endured, as a majority were sentient and considered useful to the society, although they were not respected in the least as it was believed their anatomy and behavior was unnatural and grotesque. It was not uncommon for them to be beaten, spit upon, or refused things—particularly so by Royals, although commoners were sometimes accommodated to the practices as well given their desire to mimic Royal views and way of life.  Despite the prejudice against their kind, Mutants often stuck together and tried to endure in their daily lives. Some treated them with the same kindness as others, and thus they were drawn more to those people.

At some point in her youth, Zhavala struggled highly with the concept and acceptance of the self as many Mutants did. Her mutation resided in the form of crab legs sprouting from her head. Often times she had tried to cut them (which was painful as hell) but they would grow back quickly. Eventually she learned to let it be, assuming it pointless to try and hide her deformity.

 She became overly frustrated growing up, especially in Royal treatment of her kind, especially knowing that her people were doing little to stop it either out of fear or ignorance. In her adolescent years [for lack of a better word since I have not considered their time terminology] she stowed away on a ship headed to Jhinga territory. She opted to run away from the city life, away from the royals, in hopes that becoming ignorant of her people’s tribulations would ease the pain of its occurrence and allow her mind to be numbed by a more casual lifestyle. After making her way to their territory, Zhavala travelled their woods and found a place where she could rest. As she did so she became frustrated over being left alone to her thoughts which gravitated more toward the thing she was trying to forget about. At this point, she was approached by Freiyah, and instead of being afraid of the Mutant’s unsightly appearance, she was intrigued at how she had “antennae” like her kind did. She stayed and spoke with Zhavala, which positively altered her mood greatly. She convinced Zhavala to return home, although welcomed her to visit again, which the Mutant did. She soon kept returning to the forest in Jhinga territory to meet her friend in over and over again, until they eventually grew a romantic relationship.

This relationship went on for quite some time, and they both grew to trust each other highly and would often bring each other gifts from each side of the Mercury  Sea that the other hadn’t known of given their separate worlds. At some point, Zhavala went back to see her, although Freiyah never returned. She continued to wait until her spirit had completely shattered, and because of her fragile nature her mentality drilled a lie into her head that Freiyah had abandoned her on purpose. She knew very well in the back of her mind what might have happened to Freiyah as it happened to many Jhingan women and girls, but her frightened and anxious ideas were louder than what she knew might be true. She tried to grasp the idea that no, she never would leave her, and that someone must have taken her, but she could not ignore her other feelings either. The two “truths”  were mixed up within her.

She left the forest and stowed away once more back to the city, refusing to ever again return to where the Jhinga lived, and sought respite in the Palace temple. Although there was a prejudice against her people, Sages were kind and accepting of the concept of unity, and thus they invited Mutants to visit the temple and even stay for a while there as a sort of Bastion from the Royals and other commoners’ hatred. Thus, Zhavala stayed there with no place she felt safe, and was welcomed with open arms by Cecil. He had spent a long time with the temple and was at the moment a Sage in training. Despite not having achieved the rank, he was still particularly divine and in tune with his spiritual practices.

She and Cecil became close, and although it was typical (but not an absolute necessity) of temple residents to refrain from romantic relationships, the pair became involved in that way. In a sense their involvement was partly through love, but Zhavala felt empty inside and subconsciously craved companionship in the hope that it would assuage the fears of loneliness. She did love Cecil, but felt her love for him was not the same as it had been with Freiyah, whom she felt completed by during her time with her. Despite her anger at the situation, she would often remember the Jhingan girl and how she used to smile for her.

Over time, Zhavala decided to devote herself to temple life. Although he was not supposed to teach her, Cecil attempted to aid Zhavala by invoking her spiritual journey, which she was initially frightened of doing but agreed to so long as he guided her. Cecil had sensed that she was spiritually broken, although he had a good heart and hoped she could be helped. Zhavala too had hoped in reaching such a status, her mind would be cleared and free from past grievances. She ached for relief.

Cecil wasn’t able to predict the outcome of his interference, and although he had been warned of letting her rise as she did, he continued to foster her journey into Sagehood.  When Zhavala had reached adulthood time and time later, she achieved her quest. But it was from this moment that her nature became horrendous. For many, it was attributed to the fact that there was always a lingering darkness in her heart after a lifetime of abuse, neglect, and unhappiness, even having been involved in the temple for so long.  Some theorized higher power did not want her to be happy, that perhaps she was always meant to suffer and that there was interception in her vision. When Zhavala found the figurehead she was meant to, it did not appear peaceful to her. Having only occurred rarely in times before, but never with the drastic results it had here, when Zhavala met with the eve-type figure from their mythos, she found something to be wrong with her. She did not appear in a peaceful standing as was typical, but rather with hostility. Instead of offering her the choice to relinquish something, it stole from her without consent. The figure ripped away her eyes, and Zhavala’s trance was interrupted as she physically was able to feel the pain of the act. When she fully awoke, she took one last look at her hands before her vision went permanently dark, and even with the pain gone she felt an aftershock of panic, becoming hysterical. She hadn’t anything on her mind but fear and pain at that moment, neglecting to consider her newfound ability—Subconsciously, she initiated it through her anxiety and collective chaotic subconscious thinking as a result of her experiences and what she saw of her people

Countless Kekara, those of a weaker mind or of a broken spirit were affected suddenly and unable to control themselves any longer. In that time that a great cry was heard from the temple, many Kekara were suddenly possessed by Zhavala and rushed to her. Since she was not In a state where her powers were controllable, several of the possessed Kekara became frenzied and simply attacked those who attempted to stop them, acting upon her instinct rather than her rationale.

Cecil tried consoling Zhavala, and although she was able to calm down from the shock of the pain and her sudden blindness, she also found herself with the realization that her power had come to fruition. Still relatively unstable and unable to fully control it, the afflictions of Zhavala’s subconscious became the commands of the possessed, and at the time only some actually responded while others remained frozen in place as her grip on their minds was difficult to maintain. It was only through the dire begging of Cecil that she forced herself to stop the chaos, although with her newfound abilities Zhavala became blinded with the urge to go against the Royals. She had initially thought not to harm anyone else, although she realized through her abilities that she could initiate change in their society, believing that her powers and her corrupted vision came with a higher purpose, that perhaps this was her true calling. Trying to understand her powers and how they worked, she started sending her newfound pawns to attack the rest of the Palace while she trudged on to deal with current Queen and King, assuming their thrones were the strongest place to send her message. Though she could not see, she was able to visually perceive things through the minds of those whom she possessed.

With the initiation of a coup, many Royal guards tried to stop the assault but failed and were overwhelmed by the group of people storming the palace. She managed to kill the Queen, (with the aid of a pawn as she was still struggling without her vision) although when it came time to execute the King, Cecil confronted her begging for mercy of others, as was his pacifist nature. He offered his devotion to her if only it meant she would spare Kekarian lives. Convinced, Zhavala refrained from killing others, although she began to imprison most Royals and even other citizens who had not fallen under her spell and declared that anyone who dared challenge her from then on would meet the same fate. Having succeeded in her coup, Zhavala took to the throne and attempted to run her own Queendom with Cecil by her side. She took a royal spear and altered it to her preference as her weapon, and donned flexible clothing easier for her to fight in.

Cecil was hurt by her transformation and knowing that he was responsible for this, but in many ways he still loved her enough to try to keep her in line. He desired to stay and hopefully undo the damage he had done, although Zhavala remained unmoved. She still cared for him in some way, and although understanding the negative impact her actions, still felt her wrath a fitting punishment to those who had deeply hurt her kind and others. Many mutants supported her, equally as sick of their treatment as she. Others, however, kept their heads down and feared the worst for their kind should she fall.

In time, Zhavala strengthened her powers and learned to accustom herself to lack of sight while using the pawns of her power to sense the world around her. She even began to learn to fight without the use of her vision, forcing possessed Royals and Sages to teach her to fight without sight.

Still troubled and believing that bringing more Mutants into the palace to begin a community in which they were the elite would bring her peace, Zhavala opted to have children, and Cecil obliged in hopes that it would help her mentality to have something to bring out a sense of love in her as he had. She was only able to salvage one, although became saddened that the child didn’t display any Mutant traits. However, she opted to accept her, not wanting to begrudge the child for her traits as the Royals had with Mutants. For a time, it brought her some happiness to spend time with her daughter, although her feelings were short-lived as an uprising that had been plotted against her by Kabir, who had escaped his imprisonment and began rounding up a flurry of people willing to go against Zhavala, began taking place. She had let her guard down in raising her daughter so much so that she was unaware of this escape, so the Coup against her genuinely took her by surprise.

Fearing the safety of her child, Zhavala bid Cecil to take her somewhere far away and raise her alone, meanwhile she would stay and fight to retain her position. She sent her own pawns to destroy her opposition, although was confronted finally by Kabir who had been hellbent on stopping her personally. They began to fight, although he soon got the better of her. Before she could be killed, knowing she had been defeated and lost what she worked for,  Zhavala fled.  She escaped the palace and fled to the mountains, heading up into the planet’s exterior as she was unable to find a respite anywhere else with everyone now hunting her. She released her hold on those she had possessed shortly after disappearing, leading everyone to believe she had died as a result of the planet’s exterior hazards and toxic, unlivable environment.

After Zhavala  had gone, a new rule was set by the King dictating the fate of all Mutants, forcing them to be thrown into the planet’s exterior and left to die, to mimic her escape and cowardice. This rule also applied to mutants born from then on, in spite but also in fear of a similar incident occurring. The law had protests initially, although they were contained through fearmongering and the reminder of Zhavala’s impact on their society.  Given the King hadn’t had any children, Kabir and Lajja were offered the throne once the he passed, as a reward for Kabir’s bravery. He denied it for them, although asked it to be given to their future child, to which the King agreed. Although notable, the despicability of Zhavala’s reign left the King to decide to keep all records of her coup away from the public, and only accessible by future rulers (again In fear of anyone taking inspiration of the acts, although he was also a very stupid king!). Her existence amongst commoners and Jhinga was kept alive by word-of-mouth and other means for a while, although lost to the Kekarian people over time. Those who had lived possessed under her influence did not understand what had happened to them or why, and they had very distant memories of the experience.

 After Reign:

Zhavala managed to survive up on the surface of her planet, intelligent in a way that helped her overcome the difficulties of life in the toxic wilderness, but also desperate enough to do anything to survive. The rain burned her skin, mostly her arms, deforming its texture wherever it touched. She used large rocks to shield her as she ran to find shelter, soon finding a cave where she set up her own home. If she hungered, she would possess mutants she could sense nearby, provided they had survived similarly and were capable of possession given her limitations to the weak and fragile-minded. She’d have them come to where she was and kill them for food. She still had her spear with her, and would use it often for protection.

Given Kekarian skin disintegrated in a matter of time once exposed to the rain, but not immediately, Zhavala began using the dead bodies of other Mutants to fashion something akin to “umbrellas” out of their bones and skin. With this she could walk in cover for a fair but still rather short period of time. In order to prolong her walks, she would have to carry several at a time, or layer the skin so that when one disintegrated, another would replace it. She favored the hardened patches of shell-like skin some Mutants possessed or their disfigurements which often had the same texture, as that disintegrated at an even slower rate. In her cave, she had numerous dead bodies and many patches of skin and shell.

When other mutants would attempt to attack Zhavala while out of her domain, she would use any other survivors that were possessible to protect her from harm, typically at the cost of their own lives. If none were around, she would have to fight, although would draw the enemy into a cave or beneath rocky crevices so as to avoid the rain and to have both hands accessible ( though, if she kept up a chase long enough, the enemy could perish from exposure to the rain). Inside her cave, however, she would possess Mutants and use them as bodyguards.

So focused on survival, Zhavala had not considered burrowing into the city until she came across a dead mutant who had tried to when she almost tripped into a hole. Typically, in order to break the barrier that protected the Kekara from the acidic layer of their planet, one would have to dig through with tools. This was the first time she had found someone who had managed to do so without them. When she had gotten the hang of controlling other Mutants long enough and of surviving in such harsh conditions, she began to use them to burrow into the city. As much as she wanted to return, she knew that the rallying strength of those who were immune to her spell could hurt her and instead decided to use her Mutants as “spies”, as she could “see” through them. Initially, her thoughts were of revenge against those who brought her down, so she had her enemies slaughtered—Kabir and Lajja were some of her first victims.

Over time, the abundance of these Mutants from the Old World was less and less, although still they were present. Zhavala’s generation of Mutants was dying out, not knowing how to survive or being used by the woman for survival. However, the next generation of Mutants that had been cast out upon birth was beginning to grow. Some Mutants grew in the city, but then were discovered and cast out. Others who were thrown in as children had to do whatever they could to survive if they did not want to perish, much like she had to.

Zhavala had not realized what the King had ordered after her terrible reign. She eventually came across an infant Kekara much later in time. She initially thought it was a dead body of an adult Kekara until she knelt down to feel it and found its form significantly smaller than what she typically came across—the child’s skin felt shriveled and burnt, its body so stiff and grotesque that it was even untouched by starving mutants. The encounter further wrought Zhavala with scorn and fury, and she made it her goal to repair the damage done to her people. Dead adults was one thing. Dead children were another, especially since she once had a child herself whom she loved.

Zhavala plays a rather large role in the sessions of both the humans and the Kekara—She is the “big bad”, essentially. Having gone through so much grief, losing one partner and then having to be torn from another, and on top of that having to watch as Royals literally send children to their deaths because they were simply afraid of the concept of another uprising rather than trying to prevent it through less violent means, it is safe to say she has a reason for wanting to invent a world of her own. She is blind, although with so much time surviving, fighting and dealing with all kinds of awful things she is able to fight for herself while accepting her disability.

Despite everything she caused, Zhavala still wholly believes her intentions are good/righteous.

SESSION ROLES, CONCEPTS, ETC.

*The following stuff is conceptual and in progress.This mostly involves Session concepts in need of research!

++A concept I had is that she is the one who discovers the frog temple. At some point Zhavala had a plan to return to the city with a group of mutants, who had been strong enough to survive the toxic surface’s harsh environment. But in discovering the temple, she halts those plans and decides to look into what the temple is. I had the idea that she finds it and somehow deciphers its hieroglyphs with the help of an intelligent surviving Mutant who can see for her, and she uses one of the main six Kekara to help her distribute and initiate the game—their version of SBURB is called SCRAB.

++Zhavala is the one who initiates the entire session (both, in fact) for her own benefit, manipulates the game’s players through Delilah, etc. She fails in their session and somehow jumps ship to Earth to try again in her endeavor after failing with the Kekara, where she is only able to truly manipulate Skip because of his already fragile mentality.

++Additionally, a concept I had was that because of her meddling on Earth, Zhavala has connections to Roth’s existence in the time and place he is in before the session. Something about how he’s not even supposed to be in the timeline he’s in and that Zhavala had arrived on Earth in an older time period (originally I thought China since I had wanted Roth to be Chinese). I thought about the particular place she landed having a village of people who had a religion around the frog temple and that Zhavala’s arrival led to their downfall because she started trying to rule over others again. Through some convoluted events, Roth was meant to be put into a lotus time capsule by his mother who wanted to keep him safe and he was supposed to just emerge in the future as a child and grow up there, long after the area he’s in has been desolated and left empty. But again, this is all stuff that needs research and is just up in the air.

++Zhavala also does know (knew) who her grandchild is (was)—she kept tabs on her daughter through mutants since she could not raise her herself, although she was unable to find Cecil since he was all over the place by the time she had been able to use other Mutants to her advantage within the city. She knew that her daughter had been raised by other people and later that she had a daughter of her own. She also managed to obtain a “laptop” for her own use by having a mutant steal it, conceal it from damage in the rain, and bring it to her. Zhavala had wanted to understand technological advances as in her time computers were not necessarily abundant. While the connections they had in the city were a little rickety, they were worse where Zhavala was, so she was not able to connect quite as often. She did contact Delilah at some point, although it was always very vague and short, with static-like interference in texts. Delilah never knew she had spoken with her relative until far into the session under her grandmother’s influence. If I can work with the concept of her cracking the code for the game, it is likely she would pass that onto Delilah who would then pass it onto Judas, who would be the one to distribute it as he knows more about computers and tech, given he builds and works with them.

++It’s possible that either A.) Zhavala was unable to control the Mutant that killed Faridah, or B.) Zhavala had her killed intentionally despite loving her, purely to get Delilah into the real world for her own later gains. Not sure which to go with.