#at least I think the infection I had in mind is unique?

[technicallyaminecraftsimp]

Hmmmmm. Guys I gotta be honest all the mlp infections aus going around everywhere got me thinking. I might be trying to cook one up too,,,,,, uh oh

[cy-cyborg]

It will never not be frustrating to me that amputees appear in fiction ALL. THE. TIME. and yet they're almost never acknowledged as such. The Cyberpunk genre is especially guilty of this: amputees and prosthetics becoming a normalised part of life are a defining part of the genre/aesthetic and yet no one even consults with any amputees about how we get represented there. Most writers in those genres don't even consider that giving your characters cybernetic arms and legs means they're an amputee.

CW: Ableism, dehumanisation

This makes it REALLY uncomfortable to engage with stories in the genre because another common aspect of cyberpunk is the idea of losing yourself and becoming something distinctly not-human anymore because you have too many cybernetic augmentations/implants. Shadowrun even has mechanics for this, which state if you get too many prosthetics, which is what cybernetics are 9 times out of 10, your character becomes a monster. These mechanics and discussions surrounding "how many robot bits make you not human anymore" are really, really uncomfortable when you remember this isn't something that's unique to a far-off future setting. Those people you're discussing the humanity of already exist. They're called amputees. If you reframe the question as "how many amputations can you have before you stop being a person" I hope you can see why an amputee like myself is not going to feel safe around you or in your fandoms.

And it's a shame, because I REALLY want to like Cyberpunk. I really, honestly do. I love the aesthetics, I love the idea of big corporations being the villains and the anti-capitalism at the heart of the genre, and I love the idea of prosthetics being not only destigmatised, but desirable. When written from a disability-inclusive lense, it honestly has the potential to be an incredibly uplifting and empowering genre. but as the genre stands right now, it's actively hostile to the very folks who are usually the stars of its stories: amputees, all because people just refuse to acknowledge us.

Cyberpunk isn't the only genre guilty of this, it's common all throughout sci-fi as a whole, but Cyberpunk is the only one where it starts becoming a serious issue due to its rampant dehumanisation of a real group of people. In other sci-fi settings, it's just kind of annoying and while it can be a form of erasure, it's not usually harmful, just...frustrating. Fantasy does it on occasion too, think pirates with a hook and a peg leg, but nowhere near as much.

If you, as an author or creator, use any of these words to describe a character or their tech in a sci-fi setting:

cybernetics/cybernetic enhancements

bionics

robot limbs

cyborgs

augmentations

You are probably writing an amputee. Please, at the very least, acknowledge it, and be mindful that those are real people who actually exist, not just a fantasy group you can speculate about.

edit:

I originally posted this article on my old Tumblr account and lot of people commented/reblogged to tell me that originally in cyberpunk, the "less human the more robot bits you have" only applied to people who opted for their limbs to be replaced by cybernetics, because it was seen as "renting out your body to corporations for money" but people who had to get cybernetics out of necessity weren't impacted. The thing is though, I really don't think that makes it better, for a few reasons. For one, where do you draw the line at "opting" to get a cybernetic prosthetic? This isn't a black and white thing, even in real life. Most amputations are done out of necessity, but there are situations where it's not the only option, just the best one. Talking from personal experience, I lost both my legs below the knee as a baby, that was a pretty clear cut case, I had a blood infection and gangrene and they had to act fast. But the infection caused lasting side effects and impacted my physical body's development and growth. By the time I got to my early 20's it was causing a lot of pain in my right leg, in my knee specifically, and when I got a bone infection in the end of that stump, I chose to have the whole thing amputated up to the knee. They only needed to take a few inches off the end of my stump, but I asked them to go higher, because of the ongoing issues in that knee, issues that would have been made worse by the shortening of the leg. I choose to remove the whole thing, knowing the joint was degrading and I probably would have lost it later in life anyway. Even if it was salvageable, it would mean much more surgery, and I've had enough of those. A boy I played wheelchair basketball with was born with a partially formed leg, it was half the size of his other leg and he wasn't able to use it al all, it was just dead weight, so he opted to get it amputated too for convenience and so he could use a prosthetic on that side. I worked with a girl who's hand didn't form properly in the womb, resulting in a normal palm, but tiny "finger nubs" (her words) with no bones inside. They weren't actively harming her usually, but she opted to get them and the top of her palm amputated after an incident at work where we were tying balloons and one of her nubs got stuck in the knot. She decided to get them amputated because it meant accidents like that would be less likely, and she could use a prosthetic more comfortably. All 3 of these are considered "optional" amputations, so would people like us be penalised in your setting? does it make sense that the technology in your setting can tell the difference, or that corporations would care about the how and why? Even stepping away from medical grey areas, if your character opts for a cybernetic arm because the corporations will financially reward her, and she's struggling to put food on the table without that help, is that really optional?

Don't get me wrong, I do think that idea could work but it would take a lot of work to do well, and most works I've seen don't do the work. Even if they did though, it doesn't change the fact that most modern uses of this trope don't mention that bit or actively ignore it. It doesn't matter in most cyberpunk works I've seen if the amputation was optional or out of necessity, they still are more prone to being seen as "less human" and in most of the sci-fi writing communities I've been part of, the authors are genuinely shocked when I ask them to remember "people with cybernetics are real people already, they're not some far-off-distant future fantasy group, they're just called amputees". Like it didn't even cross their minds. These are the people creating the works in this genre. Even if it wasn't the original intention of the genre, it's still an issue in the modern version of it. Edit 2: Elaborated a little more on why I don't think the "only people who choose it" argument works in the edit. Also, please stop telling me that old cyberpunk doesn't have this issue, I literally address that in the post lol.

[convexicalcrow]

"Look, I know you're impatient, but just trust me, okay? We can't let them know ConCorp's behind this. Not yet, anyway," Cub said.

He was talking to Captain Jack, ConCorp CEO, who was currently sitting on the other end of the boardroom table, clutching a piece of melon in a claw that he was currently eating rather contentedly. The parrot seemed to pay no attention to him.

"What about Scar? Nah, nah, not Scar. He doesn't need to know. Besides, I told you before why we need Grian to front this. Not just because it was his idea, but because he's better at running things like this. And it keeps it all separate from me, so if it does end up failing, well, I can swoop in later to take over," Cub said.

The parrot chirped softly. Wandered across the table, gazing at things. Seeking more fruit. He caught Cub's gaze, and Cub laughed.

"Look, I promise I'll keep you updated, okay? Just let me work. I know what I'm doing," Cub said.

-

The meeting with Captain Jack had happened in Vexspace, of course, like all good ConCorp meetings, and it had happened just as the Hermetheus was arriving at their new home planet. Grian had been talking about running the shopping district on permits this season, something he'd been thinking about during stasis. Give each Hermit their own monopolies and see how that panned out. Cub had only gotten involved after Grian asked for help coming up with all the permits that might be needed.

Cub, of course, could see the potential. Monopolies for some resources could be very lucrative indeed. If this could infect the other Hermits with the same capitalist drive that ConCorp thrived on, well. They could go far indeed. And better have the Hermits in the arms of ConCorp than in the arms of GigaCorp. At least ConCorp was openly unethical. They wore their war crimes with pride.

And so it was that Cub spend much of the first day on the server, after they'd gotten geared up, locked in a dirt hole with Grian, figuring out permits, and how to sort them. Because, of course, if he rigged the distribution system well enough, perhaps he too could profit handsomely from it.

-

Hermit Time was a rather finicky thing. It happened when it happened. Once everyone had settled down in whatever space they wanted, it was easier to figure out where the shopping district would go. The permits were on their way, and Cub did not miss the hours spent crafting them all and sorting them into their iron, gold, and diamond tiers in the randomiser system he'd built. And then, once it was done, he stepped back, and let Grian run the show.

Grian sold it so well though. He was uniquely capable of ensuring the permit system was adopted by everyone. Unlike other Hermits, who didn't know exactly which permits were up for grabs, Cub knew which ones he wanted, and he would make sure he got them one way or another. Horns and fireworks, once he had those, he was set.

-

It's not that Cub was necessarily letting Grian fail, but the man's obsession with fishing up a mending book probably had wrecked his brain a little, so he wasn't at all surprised to find him rather reluctant to actually run the permit office once it had been set up. Hiring Scar and Skizz as Permit Office Enforcement agents definitely said a lot about Grian's care in selecting good people to help run the place. Cub had laughed when Grian told him he'd only hired them because they happened to be there at the time. Of course he did, that was the kind of slapdash Permit Office Grian seemed to like to run.

Cub didn't mind, though. If his Higher Ups wanted him to step in, he would, but they had other plans still. Give them a chance to fail on their own first. Patience. The time will come.

-

In some ways, Cub thought he was doing more permit office work than any of those three combined. He was fastidious about checking for permits being hung in shops, the presence of ender chests, making sure shops were kept in stock, all the work the Permit Office staff should be doing. He didn't keep his records out of spite, but perhaps he did send some anonymous mail to the Poe-Poe to tip them off if he found any egregious offences.

But of course, Grian would get lazy, the Poe-Poe would shirk their responsibilities, distracted by other crimes such as Doc's diamond ore thefts, and so the shopping district would lie neglected. And thus came the message from Captain Jack: It was time to step in.

-

Cub arranged a meeting once his ultimatums to Grian to step up his game went unanswered, which he knew they would be. He also sent summons to Scar and Skizz, just to get everyone together. Was calling it a disciplinary hearing a little strong? Well, perhaps, but it would get his attention. Set the stakes. Let them know he was serious. Well, the Higher Ups were serious. They wouldn't know it was him until he arrived.

Captain Jack was chattering in his ear as he floated down in front of the Poe Poe HQ where Grian, Scar, and Skizz were waiting for him. Cub wasn't always one for a dramatic entrance, but he felt this one mattered. Got himself a whole Permit Office uniform and a shiny gold badge, just to make it feel official. He was pleased they all showed up, and he definitely had to suppress a smile as he heard Scar reply, 'hello God' as he touched down in front of them, the slow falling having done its job.

It wasn't necessarily in Cub's nature to be dominant and bossy, but sometimes, it was just how things were gonna be, and it was vital to make it clear to them that he was in charge now and his orders would be obeyed. And, look, if he laced in a little Vex magic to sway the non-Vex, well, that wasn't a bad thing, right? The thunderstorm was a bonus, and honestly, he didn't mind the ominous evil atmosphere it created as he very calmly said things would be fine. And they would be fine, in time. All he had to do was make sure Grian didn't get in the way too much, and when the time was right, well. Perhaps Captain Jack would come to visit, and the server would once again belong to the ConVex.

[vinestaffery]

sorry for not posting every1, tumblr broke and refused to let me post my draft of headcanons, so im rewriting! have some medkit headcanons i decided to write up for my personal self!

⟡ when medkit met you earlier, he was completely infauted with you, and that is something he can't resist at all. ⟡ him?? out of all the people, he is the one falling for someone as .. gorgeous and gentle .. like you? he couldn't believe his own mind nor feelings! ⟡ he went straight to sword for assistance, especially someone as cold-hearted as him. who knew that he'd have taste into someone like you. ⟡ he thought he was sick or caught something from you, like an infection. he certainly did. ⟡ approaching you gave him horrible heart-aches, ones that burnt. ones that he had never experienced properly before, ones that made his stomach flip thousands of times like it used to at tough exams in blackrock. ⟡ he couldn't stop looking at you, his ears turning a teal whenever you caught him glimpsing him. it was cute to say the least. ⟡ vine staff helped support you when you gossiped about him, in which vine staff would report back to the unstable doctor. he was driven insane with the nice remarks and his unique features, strong accent and his strong accent. ⟡ if you were to go into his room and sneak a bit, you'd find tons of un-sent letters that wrote about you and how much he couldn't contain his own feelings. ⟡ the biggest hopeless romantic possible, yet he is unable to breath out a single confession around you. his breath is held tight in his own throat. ⟡ when he first asked you out to spend 'time', he took you to catshots cafe, in which the gossip train ran WIIIILLD. going to a match with you two ended up with people suggesting hints between eachother ⟡ medkit would later refuse to heal any of the said people except you <3 ⟡ you had to be the first to confess, medkit couldn't get out of his room when he had asked you to spend time with him for the phestival! ⟡ when he got home, he nearly fainted that sword had to take him to bed and make sure he doesn't DIE from those butterflies in his stomach! ⟡ he did want the relationship to be under covers, especially with blackrock assassins and subspace still hunting around for him. if he found out, he would be beyond worried ⟡ when you first moved in, he made you tons of food and would berate sword for his stupidity and strange questions of keeping it ""quiet"" in bed ⟡ he is a person that probably doesn't know how to cuddle with someone in bed, so you'd probably have to teach him where to put his arm and leg, all that stuff ⟡ biggest cuddler. but be careful of where you put your horns!!! sometimes he loves cuddling so much and hugs, he refuses to speak up about the poking ⟡ i know canonically this guy is 5 something, but i think realistically he'd be a bit more taller, but not too tall. he uses his height to boast towards subspace ⟡ occassional dates because he just adores your presence, its so heartwarming and soft ⟡ he is terrified of losing you, im not kidding. sometimes at night, he'd wake up and have meltdowns. he'd struggle to comprehend that you could die because of his history. ⟡ the nightmares are continuous, which means a lot of reassurance and comfort for him, even if he denies it ⟡ you'll have to convince him to come to bed too btw, hes a big insominac and workaholic at night

thats all <3 sorry once again every1

[scoobydoodean]

omg i just finished your emma vs amy takes and the subsequent discourse about it (which was so refreshing to see btw!! love it when adults can be Adults and argue about the topic without insulting the other person) and I might get fried for this but that incident aside, do you have any other scene/episode in mind where sam reacts the same way or does the same thing?

(im sorry if this isn't your cup of tea for asks! your takes have been Enlightening)

You mean another situation where Sam shoots a person with supernatural abilities who hasn't shed blood and has a sympathetic backstory without giving them a chance? Not as overtly—Benny in season 8's "Citizen Fang" certainly comes to mind, but even Benny, Sam at least made a show of giving a chance by assigning Martin to keep tabs on him and make sure he didn't do anything wrong before trying to kill him. (Though whether there was conscious or subconscious sabotage involved when Sam chose Martin specifically—someone he knew to be mentally unstable—is certainly a good question given Sam had already made death threats about Benny before then.)

The fact that Sam's behavior in 7.13 "Slice Girls" is pretty unique is really what I want to point out about this episode in the first place—that Sam's actions in "Slice Girls" are inconsistent with his previous behavior and future behavior as far as "good" monster episodes. We can turn to examples such as:

1.14 where Sam insists they try and talk Max down instead of killing him, because Max's murders are a result of extensive abuse.

Lenore and her nest in SPN's seminal "monsters can be good" episode (2.03)

Sam thinking Andy is responsible for the killings in 2.05 but still waiting for proof before acting.

2.09 where Sam insists they not kill someone they think might be infected with Croatoan virus before he turns and tries to kill them because that doesn't give him a chance.

Two episodes where Sam faces off against Gordon because Gordon wants to kill him before Sam kills someone (2.10, 3.07)

2.17 where Sam and Dean search for a cure for Madison, who is not aware that she has been killing people.

4.04 Metamorphosis where Sam is the one who takes the initiative to research Rugarus, learns that they can survive without giving into their urges, and insist they go and talk to him about how his body is changing (lol) so he has the chance to fight the urge to kill and eat people.

5.06 where Sam and Dean oppose Cas who wants to kill Jesse, who is a child who is not aware that he has powers and is hurting people.

6.02 where Sam, even soulless, recognizes the innocence of a shifter baby.

Then we have Amy and Emma in 7.03 and 7.13 respectively.

8.04 where the brothers let Kate the Werewolf go because she was turned against her will and killed the man who turned her in self-defense.

8.09 Citizen Fang (already discussed)

I'm getting lazy but then we also have Magda and Jack Kline—both children with powers, one severely abused, the other the son of the devil with uncontrolled explosive powers that could end the world, both of whom Sam attempts to help work with their abilities.

Dean has a more structured series of personal "rules"—a litmus test we see from the very beginning—one Sam often follows as well, but I'm not sure Sam ever really fully grasps that Dean thinks this way.

Has this person hurt or killed anyone?

Was it on purpose or was it outside of their awareness?

If it wasn't on purpose, are they capable of learning to control their urges?

We see this code as early as 1.12 "Faith":

SAM Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy. DEAN Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book. SAM No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is.

Dean applies the same reasoning in 1.14 with Max:

SAM These visions, this whole time -- I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess -- because we're so alike? DEAN What are you talking about. The dude's nothing like you. SAM Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both... DEAN Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.

Despite the exact opposite being the typical fandom perception, early on we learn that Sam tends to define a monster by their features/abilities, while Dean defines a monster by their actions. We see the same with Amy—she is "a monster who killed four people" (7.07) . She isn't a monster because of what she is but because of what she did. This again—is also why Dean doesn't even consider killing her son right after her kid swears to kill him one day. We see Dean, in the rare cases where it comes up, is also perfectly fine with taking out human serial killers they stumble across (ex: Thin Man).

Sam will also kill a human serial killer at times (and murderous witches by 3.09), but he reserves the word "monster" to describe individuals with supernatural features/abilities... and I think the fact that Sam's definition of the term differs from Dean's is something neither brother ever fully realizes about the other, leading at several points to arguments where they are talking past each other and do not understand one another. Sam hears "monster" and thinks "Dean is talking about me", when Dean is operating under a completely different definition of the term that is based on the actions of a person.

When Sam is in a headspace where he is thinking of himself as one of those monsters, he shows increased or lessened sympathy in turns. For example, he assumes Andy's guilt in 2.05 because he is panicked about becoming evil himself and is comparing the two of them (but again—still waits for confirmation) but his sympathy for Max in 1.14 comes from the same comparison with himself. Sam completely misrepresents Amy in 7.03 as an addict who relapsed but more generally is "managing", as a way to compare her with himself... when Amy didn't feed on anyone herself and her actions have absolutely nothing to do with addiction or battling "monstrous urges".

I've been bitching and moaning a lot, but I will reemphasize that there is a more sympathetic reason that Sam shoots Emma—Sam and Dean are both crowding up to the diving board at the deep end of the pool in season 7. Dean's grieving and is drinking extremely heavily to cope and Sam is hallucinating. They are both unraveling at the seams. Neither of them is in a place where they trust the other's judgement because they both know themselves and each other to be unstable. So if we imagine a reality where Sam and Dean give Emma a chance, and it doesn't take, Sam assesses himself and Dean to be in no mental state to cope with a potential surprise attack. It's just that Sam also erroneously compares Amy and Emma when they are not the same, and by doing so, frames Dean wanting to spare Emma but killing Amy as hypocrisy (because they are both "monsters") when Dean's actions are perfectly consistent with his personal ethical code and his definition of a "monster"... and Sam's actions aren't.

[9leaguesofmirrors]

Joseph Gain(e)s Approval (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

In which Lisgoe meets Ross' family and, as usual, things don't go that well (AKA, Lisgoe is a menace but it's justified)

CONTENT WARNING: Classism and mentions of death

As Lisgoe sat in the driver’s seat, eyes staring off aimlessly out of the window in front of him while they were parked away from the house, he only had one thought going through his mind

Ross is lucky he doesn’t have to go through this shite, my dad’s dead and my mum lives in fucking Sheffield

He shifted uncomfortably in the suit Ross had picked out for him. White, for some reason

“It was going to happen eventually, Joseph, you can’t be in a relationship and never meet their parents.”

“I was hoping to prove you wrong.”

Ross sighed, whipping off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose before sliding them back on again

“Just try to be civil. I don’t particularly speak to my mother, and I certainly don’t think much of my dad, but they’re family. They deserve to at least meet my partner.”

Lisgoe felt Ross touch his face and kiss him gently. Anything he wanted to say, for a moment, withered in the sensation of Ross’ lips on his. Instinctively, his hands cupped his neck as he leaned into it, allowing it to deepen slightly as they both sunk into it

“Just one dinner,” Ross murmured “then we don’t have to go through it again.” He rested his hand on Lisgoe’s upper thigh, rubbing it gently “Then you can do whatever you want, OK?”

That caused Lisgoe to close his eyes, sighing shakily at the contact. If that was the promise, one dinner couldn’t hurt

“Fine,” he looked back at Ross “but you’re bat-shit if you think I’m talking about the fucking weather all day.”

Appearing somewhat satisfied with that response, Ross got out of the car. And, with some hesitation, Lisgoe did the same

*********************************************

It wasn’t a surprise that Ross’ parents lived in a fancy house, the first Lisgoe thought when he met his partner was this guy definitely owned a pantry growing up. He loosened his tie slightly as Ross rang the doorbell

When it opened, he were met with a woman in a neat, navy pinafore dress and thin, brown hair

“Ross, hello!” She sounded polite enough, though she spoke to Ross more like a close acquaintance than her son. She turned to Lisgoe and held out her hand “You must be Joseph.”

He took her hand and shook it

“You alright?”

That seemed to catch her slightly off-guard, but she remained civil as she let go of Lisgoe’s hand

“Yes, thank you.”

“What’s your name then? Calling you ‘Mrs. Gaines’ all evening is just gonna make me sound like a twat.”

Again, she seemed surprised, probably by the casual swearing, but she answered

“Please, call me Angina.”

Now it was Lisgoe’s turn to be caught off-guard, and couldn’t help but blurt out:

“There’s no way that’s your real name!”

“Excuse me?”

Angina looked confused

Ross looked like he was about step on Lisgoe’s foot

“I meant... it’s so unique! I’ve never heard it before. It’s... really lovely.”

That seemed to work, and she smiled

“It’s American originally, I believe.”

“Nothing beats an American Angina.”

That time, Ross did step on Lisgoe’s foot

“Where’s dad?”

“Your father’s at the table already, food will be done soon.”

Ross pursed his lips and nodded, a visual manifestation of him pushing down his nerves. Instinctively, Lisgoe rested a hand on the small of his back until he felt his partner relax under his palm

*********************************************

Lisgoe had heard the odd anecdote about Mr. Gaines, and he already wasn’t keen on him

So the first thought that went through his head when he saw that pudgy man sat in his chair, eyeing up the silver chain around his neck with distain, was look at this bald bastard

While Ross sat beside him, Lisgoe sat down opposite, reclining in his chair

“Mr. Gaines, yeah?”

“Silas. Silas Gaines.”

Somehow a worse name than Angina. And that’s a fucking chest infection!

“Right, Silas. Name’s Joseph.”

“I’m aware.” Silas looked at Lisgoe’s posture “Very aware.”

Alright, you miserable cunt, be like that

Before he could make a snappy remark, Angina had brought out a pot of food and was plating it up. Silas didn’t move his glare away from Lisgoe

Look, Baldy, if you wanna kiss me just say that

“Food looks great,” he decided to say “mind you, I can’t cook for shite.”

He revelled in the way Silas’ eye twitched at his language

“Don’t you worry, Silas, I’m not trying to have it on with your missus. Though I do like Anginas, don’t I Ross?”

Ross looked one breath away from stabbing Lisgoe with his knife

“So, Joseph,” Angina spoke as she finished plating everything up “what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a debt collector. I’m mainly behind the desk, but I sometimes go out if a customer’s being really difficult.”

He saw the way Silas seemed to look at him with impressed surprise. As if he didn’t expect a man like Lisgoe to have a decent job

“Debt collection!” Angina said “Apparently that pays well.”

“Very well.” Silas nodded “Better than those dead-end jobs they give council-dwellers.”

That made Lisgoe’s fist clench around his utensils as he stared at his plate, eyes blazing and teeth gritting together. He refused to acknowledge Silas at all, as doing so would result in him launching across the table and slamming his face into it

“If we had more people going into decent jobs, instead of taking the easy route, there’d be no need for those ghastly-looking job centres. Which, ironically, would put our Ross out of a job!”

He laughed like it was funny

Lisgoe felt a hand on his knee, and met the eyes of his partner. No words, yet a whole conversation was spoken

He’s such a dick

I know, Joseph

He doesn’t know shite

Be civil

“So, Joseph, what did you study at University?”

Despite his bubbling anger, Lisgoe managed to look at Silas with a neutral expression

“Finance.”

“There’s no need for the attitude.”

“I’m not showing you attitude.”

“Yes, you are.”

“If I wanted to show you attitude, I’d have told you to fuck off by now.”

“Joseph-“

“You little-“

“Sorry. It’s the ‘council-dweller’ blood in my veins.”

Silence

Silas looked disgusted

Angina looked like she was trying to figure out what to say

Ross looked deeply uncomfortable

For a while, they ate without speaking

“... So, Silas,” Lisgoe said, throwing him for a loop by being as civil as possible “what do you do then?”

“I’m an accountant for a-“

“That right? Heard a lot of things about accountants. Everything except what they actually do.” He looked around the room “But you must make good money, by the looks of this place.”

That didn’t get an answer, instead Silas just carried on eating his food. Presumably because responding to Lisgoe would either result in a screaming match or a recreation of WWE

“I think we’ve talked enough about money,” Angina said in a soft yet assertive tone “those sorts of things always end in arguments. Are you from Vasey originally?”

“Nah, grew up in a council flat in Sheffield. Guy from Arctic Monkeys is from there.”

“You’re a fan of music then?”

“Fuck yeah! Rock, metal, punk, bit of new wave.”

“New wave? Like The Cure?”

“Absolutely like The Cure!” He turned to Ross “I quite like Angina.”

“Joseph-“

“What? I do!”

Ross just rolled his eyes and continued to eat. Then, when silence bubbled again, he said:

“Joseph plays drums.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, never joined a band though, fuck that. I just play for fun sometimes,” he turned to Silas “helps improve my stamina. That comes in handy.”

That got a glare, Lisgoe pretended not to see it

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Angina said “do you have anymore of those?” She pointed to his neck, where the black bird sat

“Got loads actually: chest, arms, snake up the back. Got one on my inner forearm.” He undid his cufflink and rolled his sleeve up

“A number nine?”

“Actually,” Lisgoe said with a slight smile “it’s an upside-down six.” He rolled his sleeve back down “Inside joke between me and my cousin. He died a few years back.”

“Oh dear. Was it quite... sudden?”

“Screwdriver to the spine sounds pretty sudden to me.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

“Well,” Silas muttered, half to himself “it’s to be expected.”

The air slowly began to thicken to the point it was suffocating

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m being entirely sympathetic to you, Joseph.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. I understand how dangerous it can be in areas as impoverished as a council estate. Your cousin was simply caught in the cross-fire of-“

“My cousin grew up in Portsmouth. And he wasn’t killed in a gangfight, he died at work. And let me tell you something, his job was probably more useful than whatever the fuck an accountant does.”

Lisgoe had shot up from his seat and was looking around at the people sat

“I’m going.”

“Joseph, please sit down-“

“You can stay if you want, Ross, but I’m fucking leaving.”

Wordlessly, Angina stood up and went over to him

“It was lovely to meet you, Joseph.”

“You’re alright, Angie, good cook. Hopefully you can teach me someday.”

As she took their plates into the kitchen, she muttered something to her husband. He then stood up and went over to Lisgoe, standing in front of him and reluctantly held out his hand

Lisgoe didn’t take it. He just looked at him

“Where did you say you worked?”

“Kelter & Co. No doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” Lisgoe spoke politely “yeah I’ve heard of it.”

He finally shook Silas’ hand and, not letting go, spoke again

“I’m gonna go there tonight. Drive into the parking bay, find your spot. And I’m gonna take your son to the backseat of my car. That’s right. I’m gonna put my filthy little ‘council-dweller’ hands all over your nice, middle-class son. Gonna put my working-class mouth on his clean skin and shove my destitute dick up his arse.” He stopped shaking his hand and folded his arms “And he’ll fucking love it. Like he always does.”

That was when he stormed out of the house, Ross following. He was still in view of the house when Ross grabbed his wrist and glared at him

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some privileged wanker treat me like a fucking second-class citizen.” He took a step towards him “And besides, if you weren’t gonna defend me, I needed to do it myself.”

“It’s not that easy to stand up to a man like my dad-“

“He brought Viktor into it! He slated my upbringing, then he brought my dead fucking cousin into it! And you sat there. And you. said. nothing.”

“You don’t need me to defend you, you’re perfectly capable of doing that yourself.”

“Don’t need a lot of things. I don’t need to have a smoke every now and then. I don’t need to have music blaring in my ears when I’m working, but y’know what? It’s just nice to know it’s actually fucking there.”

Ross sighed, shaking his head

“You’ll never understand what it’s like to have a father mentally break you to the point where you don’t even see the point in standing up for yourself.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, and Lisgoe looked as though he understood, but was struck by the sheer madness of it

“The amount of shite my dad put me through... all of the insults, the shouting, all of that, and you say I’ll never fucking understand? No. I do. But my dad could beat seven shades of shite out of me, but as soon as he started on you, I wouldn’t hesitate in telling him to fuck right off.”

“You had siblings, Joseph. You had friends, you had people around. I had nothing. Nothing in my life had permanence other than my mum and that man in there. I had no escape until I left for University.”

As Lisgoe turned away, Ross grabbed his upper arms

“I wanted to say something. I really did. But as soon as anything formed in my head, my throat clenched. Because every opportunity I got to say anything, I was shut down. Belittled. I’m not like you. I don’t have the lack of shame to go all in on-“

“Don’t you fucking start with that!”

Neither of them quite expected the sudden shift of volume, and they instinctively looked towards the house. That when they say Silas, staring smugly through the upstairs window

“He’s fucking loving this.” Lisgoe’s jaw tightened “Dirty little bastard-“

“Jesus christ, will you shut up?”

Lisgoe almost retaliated, but he was stopped by the feeling of his back being slammed into the large tree in front of the house and the firm press of Ross’ lips on his

“You think this is gonna make it up to-“

“It’s not about you, is it?” Ross sneered, his hands cupping Lisgoe’s face “It’s not all about you.”

He saw Ross’ eyes dart to the window and he looked too, noticing Silas’ shocked expression. Then it clicked

“You’re using me for revenge.”

“Yes.”

“That’s... really fucking hot, actually.” Lisgoe said it like it was an actual inconvenience to his evening “I’m pissed at you. You can’t be hot when I’m pissed at you.”

“Oh, and I’m meant to stay angry at you when you’re wearing a white suit?”

“This was your idea!”

“Didn’t expect you to annoy me though, did I? That’s your fault.”

“Yeah yeah.” Lisgoe grabbed Ross’ waist “You gonna exact your revenge or not?”

“I will. Just. Realised I don’t know how.”

By now, the irritation had liquidize into something warm and gooey. Like syrup. And Lisgoe knew exactly how to use it

“It’s because you’re so polite.” He goaded, nose inches from Ross’ “Pretty, perfect Ross Gaines, with a fancy house and a fancy pantry, with fancy parents and a fancy private educatio-“

That did the trick. Every particle of Ross’ frustration manifested in his mouth and hands, and each inch was being pressed, squeezed and wrenched into Lisgoe

“You’re gonna ruin this suit, Ross. And I know it was expensive because I was there when you-“

“Is he still watching?”

With a slight chuckle, Lisgoe’s eyes flicked to the upstairs window

“He looks fucking disgusted. Like a car accident to him, he hates it but he can’t look away.”

“I wouldn’t want to look away from you either.”

“Yeah, well I can see your mum coming up to the window.”

Ross hastily let go of Lisgoe, as if he was burned by his touch. That was when the sheer ridiculousness of the situation caught up to them and they started laughing

“Joseph,” called Angina, leaving the house and going up to them both” can we speak before you go?”

“What about Ross?”

“He can wait in the car.”

“Can I now?”

“Yes. You can.”

Ross glared, tutting as he walked off. Once he was gone, Angina turned to Lisgoe

“First of all, I want to apologise on behalf of Silas-“

“Don’t bother. Hate when people do things on other people’s behalves. If Silas wants to say sorry, he can come out and find me. That’s on him.”

“If I don’t do it, he never will.”

“Then he doesn’t say sorry, not my problem.”

“Right.”

The chill air seemed to make things even more uncomfortable, or maybe it was just cold?

“Is that... all?”

“No. No, it isn’t. Forgive me for sounding presumptuous, but you don’t seem like the type to be comfortable in a situation like this.”

“I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

“Then... why do it?”

Lisgoe leaned against the tree with a sigh, figuring out how to get his words out without sounding drippy

“I’m not a traditionalist, but Ross is. Kinda. Figured I could at least suffer through for him. Try and make at least one of his parents like me, not sure how well that worked out.”

Angina’s eyebrows quirked upwards, taking in what Lisgoe had just said

Looks like it really does run in the family

“Ross does that too, does he?”

How the fuck did she-

“I saw that little smirk at the back of your throat,” she didn’t look offended. In fact, she wore a similar smile herself “you don’t become a body language analyst without picking up a few tricks.”

“He’s your son.” Realising how weird that sounded, Lisgoe tried again “I mean, he takes after you a lot. More than daddy, that’s for sure.”

“Silas is too harsh on that boy, always has been. I don’t think Ross knows how to be cared for, how to receive it.” She kept looking at him, as if this was all planned out. There was no interjections of second thoughts, she knew what she was saying “But I knew you were right for my son the moment you walked in.”

That caused Lisgoe to furrow his brows and blink a few times quickly. But he said nothing

“I could tell Ross was tense the moment he stepped into our house, he always gets like that when Silas is near. But I remember standing in the doorway and seeing you put your hand on Ross’ back.”

“Might’ve done, probably did.”

“Yes, well, I could see the way he reacted to it. His whole body seemed to melt slightly, it looked he was returning to his neutral state. You seem to have a calming effect on him-“

Lisgoe barked out a laugh

“Me? Calming?! Fuck nah, I make his blood boil, it’s who I am. Constant nuisance.”

“I only know what I saw, and what I saw was a man that could defend himself. And, if the moment in the doorway is anything to go by, can do the same for my son.”

Lisgoe didn’t quite know what to say, he’d never been spoken of quite this highly before, especially not about being good enough for something. But now, he was being told that he was doing enough for someone he, against all odds, truly cared about

He only hoped Ross though similarly

“You ought to go.” Angina said “Ross is probably wondering what’s keeping you.”

Lisgoe nodded, unsure exactly how to close such an unusual situation – well, unusual in the sense that he was leaving it without a shouting match or physical injuries

“I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.”

Angina gave a slow nod back, she knew what he meant

*********************************************

“I’m sorry. About earlier. For not standing up for-“

“Forget it, I’m not pissed at you. I get it. Dads can be assholes."

They drove in comfortable silence until they reached the roundabout

“Second exit.”

“What?”

“Second exit.”

“Ross, that’s not the right way.”

“Joseph-“

“Our house is the opposit-“

“We’re not going home.”

Lisgoe ran his tongue along his teeth

“You gonna kill me then?”

“No.”

He looked slightly disappointed

“Then where are you-“

“Row 9, column D. Can’t miss it.”

“Miss what.”

This time, it was Ross that had the smirk on his face

“My dad’s parking spot.”

[kichimiangra]

Related, I absolutely appreciate that Hiro refuses to be intimidated by Gulus Gammamon at any point. He reacts with anger, horror and confusion, but either he refuses to acknowledge the threat Gulus poses, or understands that Gulus is in full control of the situation when the person he's interacting with is afraid of him. (Unless he's just killing the other person, in which case they can feel however they want before he decides on a thematically appreciate form of execution) Because it also puts Hiro in a more unique position by allowing him to retain his power in the interaction. Gulus is frighteningly powerful, but he does not have a wide variety of nonviolent actions. He never needed them, because his philosophy simplified things pretty neatly. Whereas Hiro knows how to handle his little brother no matter his current flavor, and thus also explains why Gulus usually opts to withdraw rather than risk a drawn-out conversation with Hiro. If Gulus isn't in control, than his all-or-nothing philosophy suggests that Hiro is in control, and what is he supposed to do with that? I believe his "game plan" of simply waiting for Hiro to lose his annoying respect for the lives of others was consistent with his internal logic, as he knew Hiro wasn't hopelessly naive and would eventually change his mind if he was repeatedly confronted with overwhelming evidence that just putting his support behind Gulus Gammamon was the only rational option he could take. Unfortunately for Gulus, Hiro's choice to try NOT to murder Digimon worked out in his favor much more often than it blew up in his face.

Hiro treats Gulus like the destructive younger brother destroying all his own toys in a fit of rage only to look down at the little monster and simply ask "Are you done?" Knowing fully well that he runs the risk of having a whole Tonka Truck slammed into his face but Gulus knows if he throws the truck Hiro wins. It's really only the fights against TonosamaGekomon that Gulus really even approaches Hiro, and only because he had him thoroughly backed into a corner with hostages, And how he was fully ready to believe that Hiro had finally agreed to Sync with him if only to get home with his friends. I wonder if, had Gammamon not come back/ if Hiro's gamble on syncing had failed, what would have become of Hiro? Would Gulus actually let him go back to the human world or would he only send Ruli and Kiyo and their respective partners, keeping Hiro there to continue to synce with him and keep him as a mega? Would he even let Ruli and Kiyo go or keep them as collateral, threatening to harm them if Hiro doesn't stay in line? What would Hiro have done if Gammamon hadn't returned? Would he try to reign Gulus in at all? Would he have tried to convince him not to kill BloomLordmon? Is there an entire alternate universe where Hiro is the unwilling battery to Gulus's army, constantly begging for Gulus to infect his victims with the GRB virus instead of killing them because at least infected means 'alive' and can be cured later if Hiro could find a way to convince Gulus to do so, all the while holding onto the fact that as long as he continues to Sync with Gulus, a little energy still gets siphoned to Gammamon, keeping him alive within the beast, causing the ever lasting conflict of the only way to keep Gamma alive is to keep feeding the bottomless pit that is Regulusmon…

Or Gulus can tell Hiro is up to something but just doesn't know what because he doesn't know Gammamon is still alive within him, he just knows Hiro is awfully compliant for someone who swore to never sync with him only to toy with Hiro by rejecting Syncing for periods of time, only to have Hiro approach the subject for no reason like a syncing addict.

I think I went on a tangent...

[cherubchoirs]

IGNORE THE FACT IVE LIKED LIKE HALF OF YO STUFF BUT;

I know you've talked about what would happen if v1 died but what would happen if Gabe died?

waaaa no worries fr it makes me so happy to see someone enjoying all of my silly posts!!!!

but ooughh...gabe dying is interesting to me, since like. first it seems that's the direction canon will ultimately take but also because v1's reaction to it would be its only encounter with grief. it is a machine made to kill, a machine made to be surrounded by death and to actively the thrive the more life is destroyed around it, but it found a unique connection in gabriel...yet it cannot understand how to save him, it does not have the options he does. nothing in its computer is remotely prepared to experience this or to help, to do anything as gabriel dies. it only knows how to kill, it only knows how to achieve what's already happening in front of it, gabriel's death likely something that would be quick and violent. the ways v1 was taught. it could scramble again to give blood, but what happens if v1 has none to give itself? what happens when gabriel stays its hands, telling it that it can't die for him. everything in its mind screams at it to do something, to save him, but it's entirely still as no files are found. it is empty. it has nothing for him. it failed to protect him, that's the only way it ever could have prevented this. gabriel is gone, he won't speak or move anymore, and v1 knows this so well. this is everything it is. so why does it feel new?

like i've mentioned before, v1 is endlessly adaptable, it is meant to improve and forever move forward, but this scenario sees that endless march half stalled. a processor deep in its mind stops, it loops on gabriel, it wants to see him, to hear him, to spend time with him. and v1 can't fix that, gabriel woven so deeply into itself that that he's forever with it even as v1 logically understands his death. still, that processor asks for him, it's time to see him, it's time to talk to him, it's time to fight him. v1 cannot meet its demands. this is its grief, a processor that stays with gabriel even in his absence. and i think v1 deals with it by setting up its base beside him, creating a permanent residence for itself nearby his body. it's not truly sated by this, by sitting beside what's left of him, by checking on him and being sure that nothing has disturbed him. it doesn't want to move him, it doesn't want to add anything of his to its collection, it just wants to stay there. it continues going out, it hunts for blood and to create its limitless war, but it comes "home" far more than it once did. and it's shutting down more, soon realizing it's because it's working harder - its computer is running at a higher output now, it has been ever since gabriel died and it's getting worse.

because grief makes no sense in a war machine. grief is a fatal error. it should excise him, it should remove everything gabriel was to it to save itself from sure failure....but it can't. he is too important, a part of too many memories to be taken away and besides, v1 has no interest in forgetting him. the grief spreads, hopping to new processors because v1 has no way of stopping this either, no protocols to handle this just as with gabriel's death. and i essentially have two ways i think this could go - v1 eventually does create a program that can quarantine that grief, treating it essentially as a system virus it can't actually clear but instead disconnecting the processors that have been infected by it. it numbs it, basically cutting off the emotion related to gabriel's memory and losing the love that it had (or at least shutting it off from itself). this causes instability in its programming and a slow down since it's lost vital processing power, but it could move forward in this instance with adjustments (likely testing its new state extensively in the cybergrind). or, in a much more romantic option, v1 does nothing to stop the slow spread of grief through its system and its computer is eventually corrupted by it. v1 is confined to a smaller and smaller radius around gabriel's grave until it really is only guarding it, thoughts cycling endlessly on protecting him in a way it once failed to do. like a ghost for a machine, unable to execute any other script. as that corruption reaches a critical point, v1's mind tries to believe that it doesn't know what happens to an angel when it dies. maybe gabriel is somewhere. maybe he can come back one day. so it ultimately decides to enter a powersave mode, to go into stasis in its little nest right beside him, in hopes that if he ever returns, he will find v1 too. it goes to sleep hoping one day to be woken up by him.

[cloudyswritings]

Vessel Biology: I genuinely have no idea how many of these I’ve made…

y’all know the drill(although you’ll need to forgive me if some of these headcanons don’t match with my previous ones, it’s just genuinely been that long.

Abilities: So I’ve seen this idea around that each vessel was born with some inherent or unique ability, I really like this actually because it explains some things about the vessels that escaped, as well as things you experience in games. It’s also a bit useful for plugging some gaps in the lore/our knowledge.

Little Ghost: So I’ve got two ideas for what their ability specifically would be, the first one and the one I like the most, is that they are incapable of taking fall damage. It seems really simple, and it is, but it explains how they specifically survived the fall when all of their siblings didn’t. Second is that they have so power tied to the idea of void being “the power opposed”, specifically to it being the power opposed to time. Realistically this power would be how they get sent back earlier in time after completing and ending. Overall I’m not a huge fan of that so my personal HC version of ghost is just immune to fall damage.

THK/Hollow: I absolutely love the idea that their unique power is the ability to shield their thoughts completely from higher beings. This would explain how the Pale king, the literal god of soul and mind, didn’t realize they could think. It also explains why the radiance did realize, aside from them being literally stuck together, she figured out because she was in their dreams instead of their conscious mind.

Broken Vessel: I was tempted to say they had some sort of ability related to their jumps and crazy hangtime in their fight but that really seemed more like the radiances influence to me. I think their power would be the ability to survive long term as just a shell. I’d be willing to bet that they died in the abyss, and cracked their heads falling, but then woke up without a shade like ghost(this condition in my mind is unsustainable for ghost in the long term and it’s why they track down and reclaim their shade immediately) this didn’t really big BV so they just sorta lived like that. I figure that this power specifically has its roots in the ability of Wyrms to shed their forms and survive otherwise lethal damage, I imagine if the radiance hadn’t infected them they’d probably have continued to grow and eventually become a relatively normal if still void tainted higher being. I bet they are more susceptible to higher beings and their influence like that however, because they don’t have a light of their own.

Greenpath Vessel: this is pure speculation at this point because we know nothing about them, but I imagine that they had some sort of ability to directly manipulate their biology(kinda like the passive permeability to light other vessels have) and incorporate traits from other bugs as long as they understand them. This would be how they got the mothwing cloak , they probably met a moth and incorporated their wings, but didn’t completely understand them and so didn’t quite gain the power of flight.

Nosk/Deepnest vessels: the ones that looked alike all had a minor mental ability to know where one or all of the others were, how these abilities manifested varied vessel to vessel. Nosk recognized this, or at least that they were drawn to each other and used this to lure them in.

Other Details: These abilities run from being relatively minor to quite powerful and that power level doesn’t really match with the overall strength of the vessel. What does match however is the vessels impurity/flaw, which helps to inform the shape the power takes. For example THKs flaw being perfectionism pairs with their ability which prevents them from being perceived as anything but the perfect vessel, while Greenpaths wanderlust ties abstractly to their ability and the desire to deviate or “wander” from their base biology.

Okay so how’d these abilities happen then? The short answer is vessels are fucking weird, the long answer is that these abilities all reflect a quality of the light/godhood they would have had if the void hadn’t devoured that potential, those vessels least effected by the void may not even have an ability but instead might retain elements or even the whole(albeit dimmed) of their light!

As always if you like my headcanons feel free to snatch them for your own nefarious purposes(also it’s great to be back doing hollow knight stuff here, damn I missed it)

[residentfurry]

Oc infodump/ Verdugo speculative biology

@wisecrackingeric-2

This is part Mari post part verdugo speculative biology post! So please keep in mind this is all speculative x)

The basic story of the Verdugo is that there are two of them; Salazar's scientist and housekeeper. They are bioweapons that are basically made of gene spliced human, insect, and Plaga DNA, made by the scientist before turning himself into a Verdugo.

Mari is based off/ was infected by the scientist Verdugo (the one you see in the main remake) so we'll be mostly focusing on the traits of that one mostly!

(Also it's not confirmed in-game that the scientist Verdugo could infect people, but in the DLC the housekeeper Verdugo infects Ada with what seems to be it's own type of parasite/plaga, since it gets expelled from her body after the death of the Verdugo and that doesn't happen with other Plaga. I like to think that if Ada hasn't killed the Verdugo, she would've turned into one.)

Which was kinda the inspiration for Mari! Kinda a fun "what if" situation. What if the Verdugo had infected someone besides Ada, having been able to do so before?

As a Verdugo, she shares many similarities with with the insects the scientist had extracted the DNA from. Based off the Verdugo models, I would assume that they're cricket/grasshopper DNA! Several of the species I have as examples below are actually from Spain/Europe, so it's very likely the scientist used them in his experiments!

(Insects pictured: Mole cricket, Bush cricket, Giant Weta, and Grasshopper)

The legs, mandibles, even the unique 'hands' are all features that the Verdugo have! (Or at least variants of them) Even though Mari's design doesn't start far from the in-game models^ I usually keep the insect part of her in mind when drawing her!

The part where my own concepts/ speculation comes in is usually in her behavior.

Which begs some questions!

Could Mari chirp like a grasshopper or cricket?

Yes! It's my personal headcanon that she could grow wings and shed them at will (as alot of bioweapons in re can mutate at will) and while she has these wings, she could technically chirp!

What would her wings look like?

I would imagine that they would be transparent or a kind of ashy brown.

How does a Verdugo like Mari crawl through small spaces like vents? (Like in the game?)

I personally headcanon that she can flatten her body, much like a roach! This helps her fit into small spaces that she shouldn't otherwise fit into.

What other similarities does Mari have with insects?

Like Grasshoppers, Mari's ears is located on her side, just above her legs!

Does Mari have abilities like the other Verdugo/ bioweapons?

Mari can do basically everything the scientist Verdugo could do. For example, she is extremely difficult to kill and is pretty much impossible to kill by gunfire. She can also transform into that long-tailed form (like in the Verdugo fight with Leon) and use that tail with precise accuracy. Other than that, she has passive regeneration and can regrow a limb if lost in under a week. She also has the same weaknesses as the scientist Verdugo and becomes sluggish in the extreme cold. (TLDR: she has strength, agility, and can kill anything in many different ways while being kinda untouchable herself. Not that she'd want to, of course, but she could!)

Could she infect others and turn them into Verdugo?

Yes :3c

How does she get along with Ashley? Shouldn't she be under some sort of control via Plaga?

She may still have some residual instincts (because she is a bioweapon after all) but she isn't influenced to directly harm Ashley or well...anyone.

Usually Verdugos and bioweapons are hyper aggressive, but Mari isn't. She isn't "mind controlled" like the other Verdugo/cultists (at least not in the same way.) I don't know if I want to reveal too much of her backstory just yet but there's a good legitimate reason for all that stuff. ^ I tried to make her as canon adjacent as possible so she could actually be a legitimate character within the re universe.

But what was the thought behind The creation of Mari?

The whole reason I wanted to make Mari is to basically...give explanation to what Ashley is doing after the events of re4, as well as give her some more character depth and explore what we really don't get to see in the games: how does a bioweapon event/ attack effect someone long term? I wanted to explore Ashley's trauma and her desires and what she decides/wants to do moving forward, and Mari is kind of a narrative device to help with that. She doesn't just stop existing once she's saved, ya know?

Did I create Mari just because I wanted more Ashley content? Yes. Absolutely. I love Ashley as a character and I think she's so interesting!! I want to see more of her!! So Mari is just my excuse to pretend that I'm Capcom making filler content for what Ashley's doing LOL

Overall, props on whoever designed the Verdugo in the remake, because it's one of my fav monster designs ever and is just so beautifully detailed (as well as it's partial xenomorph inspiration!) and is just so cool in general!

So ya that's some facts/speculation about Mari and the Verdugos! ^-^

[lookinghalfacorpse]

in the wild all lessons last - au/bonus????

@chrysalizzm ​got me thinking about the butterfly chat headcanon and “in the wild all lessons last” happening in the same verse with this awesome drabble they wrote and honestly the imagery was impeccable.  so here’s more of that.  

takes place very early on in the itwall story.

read the full fic here , info and trigger warnings here

The steam rising from the soup bowl seemed especially thick in the chill cabin air.  It was a bitter cold night, and Philza was starting to wish he put on a pair of socks underneath the slippers he slid himself into earlier.  At least the soup offered some warmth– he held it carefully in one hand while the other turned the doorknob to the guest room.

Dream had only been with them for three nights.  Full meals still upset his stomach, so Phil was careful to make sure that he had a number of smaller meals throughout his day.  No more than five hours passed without some kind of food, which unfortunately meant waking him in the night.  Phil might not be so strict about it if the boy wasn’t so thin; he heard of strong-willed men dropping dead from the effects of starvation long after they were eating normally, and he wasn’t willing to take any risks.  Plus, eating and then heading right back to sleep afterwards should be a good way to put weight back on.  

So, mindful of the noises he made as he shuffled around, Phil entered the darkness of Dream’s room and lit some candles.  

Orange light blossomed around the space.  Dream was sound asleep in the center of his bed, his head lolled gently to the side and his features relaxed.  His hands, free of the trembling that infected his waking hours, rested atop Em as she lay on his chest.  

Phil nearly jumped when he saw the fluttering.

A blue butterfly rested on the wall directly above Dream’s head, its wings flapping slightly and catching the candlelight.  Another was on Em’s paw, its legs shifting through her fur.  Phil approached slowly as he placed the soup bowl on the nightstand, careful not to startle one that was perched there.  Thankfully, it was calm and still.  Phil wondered, for a moment, if they remembered him– Dream’s chat was an alluring and stealthy ally in past battles, and Phil enjoyed talking with them and trying to interpret their unique body language.

What he interpreted now was a message of overall calm, and maybe even relief.  He had no clue how these delicate little insects made their way to the cottage on such a cold night, but it might’ve been quite the journey.

Phil lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress.  Dream offered no response– he was deep in sleep and completely still.  Free of nightmares, hopefully.  Phil offered a finger to a butterfly on the wall, and it crawled onto him.  Its little feet tickled his skin as it traveled around, investigating his pointer, and then his middle finger.  

“Dream,” Phil said quietly.  He hasn’t quite mastered the art of waking Dream without scaring him, so he tried to speak as gently as possible.  “I brought soup for you.  And you have company.”

Again, no response.  Nothing besides the same soft, steady breathing as before.  The candlelight illuminated many of Dream’s most lovely features– his eyelashes seemed gold-dipped– but it also highlighted the ridges of his scars and the hollows of his cheeks.  No child should be so thin.  Still worried about startling him, Phil gingerly ran his fingertips across Dream’s cheekbones and then all the way down to his jaw.  “Dream,” he said again, a little louder, “Look who came to see you.”

Dream’s breath halted and then sighed, his shoulders tightening for a moment.  When his eyes finally opened, he briefly made eye contact with Philza and flinched, gasping.

“You’re alright, mate, it’s just me.”  He redirected the hand he had on Dream’s face to the boy’s shoulder.  “Well, I guess it’s not just me.  Look, mate.”

Dream’s eyes fell to the butterfly that was grasping Phil’s fingers.  He seemed awake in an instant, his expression bursting with energy as he scrambled into a sitting position, crumbling his pillow behind him. “Wha– How?!” 

“I’m not sure, honestly.  They were here when I walked in.” Phil replied, “It’s a bit cold for them to be traveling, isn’t it?”

The butterflies gathered around them, landing in Dream’s hair and atop Philza’s shoulders.  There were only about 10 of them, but that alone was vastly more than Phil would expect to make it through such a great distance on a winter’s night.  Seeing them flock around Dream was a bit of a relief, though– he looked more like the young man he once knew, who had hundreds of them at his beck and call.

“It is,” Dream agreed.  He lifted a hand and a butterfly landed obediently on his fingertips.  He watched it, his eyes alight and shining with tears.

“Hm.  Well, to make it so far, they must be stubborn little creatures.  Much like yourself.”

(Phil was right.  Dream had no less bullheadedness in the face of the cold– he ran into the forest with all the strength he could gather after spending so much energy dodging Sapnap’s blows, and his butterflies followed close behind him.  They landed on his back, on his arms, on Em’s shoulders as she ran alongside him.  And when he collapsed, they gathered there, intermixing with the snowflakes and looking so ethereal and surreal as his vision faded.)

[reesdomain]

10 Reasons why I will defend Joel’s choice. Cause I’m bored so why not?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!! IF YOU DIDN’T PLAY THE GAMES BEWARE

1. The vaccine wouldn’t “work” in any sense of the word. I don’t care that Druckmann said it would, which if you ask me is just a convenient plot hole cover. One thing I appreciate about the show, is how they dive into the history of the cordyceps infection/outbreak and just how unique it is. The doctor we see at the beginning whose immediate advice is to bomb the city, shows just how grave the outbreak is period. Especially since no cure or vaccine had been made before. Mind you, this woman had to have at least 25-30 years experience in the field and her opinion obviously held weight.

For something this grave, you would need advanced technology and advanced expertise to even begin to create a “vaccine” for it. The fireflies med team was literally made up of a bunch of amateurs. We come to find out Abby’s father had at best two years of experience that I believe were in undergrad and definitely not a residency. It also needs to be pointed out that general doctors and surgeons do not account for every field in medicine. Specializations exist for a reason. I don’t think there was a single virologist or even neurologist in that room, yet they were attempting brain surgery? The other subjects died most likely because they were being operated on by the equivalent of “Grey’s Anatomy doctors”. Not because they HAD to die.

2. Even if we entertain the thought that they would somehow be able to pull a vaccine from Ellie. How would they “save the world” or “save millions”? I get that in fiction anything is possible. But with the world they created in the tlou 1, it’s just hard to imagine in this context. There’s a matter of manufacturing what would need to be hundreds of thousands of vaccines just to start. Which need significant resources. Then there would be distribution. How will you spread these vaccines around? What about language barriers? Do the fireflies have translators that can travel? Mind you, the fireflies are a terrorist organization. Do we really think they would not try to get a political leg up from this? People try to make them out to have a noble cause, but do they really? Or do they just want to save what’s left in an attempt to have power over what’s left?

3. Ellie’s immunity is pure luck. A mutation that prevented the cordyceps from taking over her. Much in the same way some people are allergic to seafood or nuts but a good chunk of us aren’t. Hell the mutation doesn’t even prevent her from being attacked by the other infected. The only thing it ensures is that she doesn’t become a “zombie” in affect. Which brings me to my next point.

4. What’s the rush? Ellie herself said she had plenty of questions for them. Which we know why they didn’t let the poor girl even get the chance to ask them. But Ellie’s immunity is something that seems more logical to study and get an understanding of before immediately jumping into surgery. What is it about her blood or body chemistry that prevented the infection from overtaking her? Soon as she got there, she was on the table without even the chance to say goodbye. Which once again, reaffirms the fireflies were taking desperate shots in the dark.

5. Informed consent went out the window. People keep saying what Ellie “would” have done or chosen for herself. Even Abby. The thing is we’ll never know. Because they took that choice from her. Marlene shouldn’t have even bothered to tell Joel what would happen. But she was a selfish dirtbag who wanted him to validate her. She knew what they were doing was wrong and I honestly think she knew nothing would come of it. Her pathetic attempt at trying to “reason” with Joel was her way of soothing her own conscience. Also they took Joel’s supplies and walked him out without it and the reward they promised him. They were never going to make good on their word.

6. You have cannibals, child rapists, slavers, and all the likes running around doing whatever they want with no care in the world. Not much world left to save when humans will always manage to be the biggest threat to other humans and forms of life. Regardless of a shared enemy or objective.

7. Abby’s father was a coward and a hypocrite. When posed the question of whether he would do what they did to Abby, he was silent. Now unlike those who don’t value consent, we know that anything other than a definite yes is a no. Abby’s father would have likely took the same course of action as Joel ( albeit not as a good lol) if Abby had been immune. And this is even with Abby giving her hypothetical consent to go ahead with the surgery. That should tell you everything you need to know. If “saving millions” was not so important for the surgeon to sacrifice his own daughter, than it was ridiculous to hold anybody else to the same standard. Also I like how Abby had her opinion on what SHE would do as if that mattered. Funny how taking someone else’s life and loved one was fine until it was her dad. But I try to give Abby credit for her redeeming qualities.

8. The “world” is owed nothing. A lot people don’t like to admit it but it’s the truth. Since the beginning of time earth has moved in cycles. Species come in and go out all the time. Humans are no different though a lot of us have tricked ourselves into believing so. For all we know the cordyceps was just the next step towards a new phase. Notice how in the show they are connected through channels and more receptive of one another. The remaining uninfected humans are most likely just fighting against inevitable change.

9. Joel was not the only person killing to survive. Both in the game and in the show it is bought up almost as if Joel was doing it for thrills or something when that was not the case. Especially in the show. The last episode tried very hard to infantilize Tommy in comparison to Joel. “Tommy was just following Joel.”

I’m sorry, but Tommy “ex war veteran who can’t accept he’s now a communist” Miller is not some little boy who was forced along by his big brother. He was a fully grown man who was fine with killing even before the outbreak and was in his element after. The fact that Maria even tried to pull that out her ass made me disgusted with her a bit. Especially since she too was no stranger to killing. “Those people tried us.” No I think the cute indigenous couple was right. Their group had just threatened what as far as they knew, was just a man and his little girl traveling with being shot to death or mauled by dogs.

10. When it was all said and done, Joel became an even older man and tried to change and become better. He tried to leave the mess of the past behind him and tried to mend things with Ellie. Despite how she treated him, he never stopped loving her and never regretted his decision to save her. Even as he was dying, I’m sure he only thought about his other babygirl being safe. He got an unfair lot and did the best he could it with it. Lord knows other people in that universe fell into deeper, unnecessary forms of depravity that Joel for the most part steered clear of.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Results, Recovery & Rehabilitation

Summary: After the parasitic infection on Umbara, Tup tries to get used to his new life circumstances. It's mostly trial and error and a lot of frustration, but it helps to have some help.

Twitch belongs to @gaeasun Pitch belongs to @lost-on-kamino

[Something nice and fluffy to make up for all of Whumptober. I think it's nice to end 2023 on a more hopeful tone.]

THIS STORY IS ALSO ON AO3

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For the most part since Tup had woken up from his coma, things were surprisingly peaceful for the usually rowdy 501st Battalion. This in of itself wasn't too strange. But, considering the circumstances behind his own disquiet, Tup couldn't help but to find it all a little unnerving.

Mostly because, in his mind, the mutated rookie didn't think he'd be so comfortable with having his own assailant running free, were he to be given the choice. Or rather, had he been in his brothers's shoes and not been the one perpetrating the horrors they'd suffered, Tup thought maybe he would at the very least want to bunk somewhere far away from the obvious threat...

Maybe the others were just better men than he was. Refusing to judge him for any of the things that transpired on Umbara. Even in spite of having gotten hurt, and their bodies having been altered in permanent life-changing ways.

Maybe he was just being too hard on himself. The guilt that followed him everywhere making him unwilling to forget, while also dolling out his own punishment in the form of restless nights full of wondering about what he could have done differently.

He didn't really know. Nor does he bother to really look for the supposed right answer. Dogma already did enough of that for him anyway. Actually, Dogma did practically everything for him nowadays.

And therein lie part of the problem...

Now, don't get him wrong, it's not like Tup hated his brothers's selfless, open affection, or their willingness to forgive him and seemingly forget what had transpired. In fact, he was more than a little grateful that he hadn't been condemned to a life of solitude and bitter resentment.

What bothered him was that they were being so gentle about it. Almost coddling him in the process.

And that was something that he felt wasn't fair on anyone. There should be consequences, even if he himself had been a victim of some very unique and horrific circumstances. Sith-hells, they should be rightfully upset that (even though he was being puppeteered by an overgrown mite) it was his own selfish desire to protect them all at all costs, that ended up being used as incentive to infect them with the same horrific condition he now had to live with.

This grotesque body with primordial instincts and bodily functions he couldn't quite understand. That he was afraid to become too intimately familiar with, due to the nature of these changes being so monstrous.

Being welcomed back with open arms felt like a disservice to all that he considered fair. A right slap in the face to everyone he'd hurt.

And that drove him a little bit crazy, the cheer amount of things that just weren't the same. Both physical and metaphysical. The GAR had never shied away from punishing even the most minor of infractions. Why couldn't his treacherous behavior be dealt with the same? Why was everything so terribly confusing?

It made his skin crawl in that way he knew Dogma's did when things weren't within a mold he understood. His perspective shifting to one that was of mutual understanding, in a way that should have not been so negative.

Tup should have never have had to change to finally understand Dogma's point of view. And yet...

Strange as it was to him how easily everyone had just moved on (and even went out of their way to interact with him as if he were still the same rookie who'd only just gotten deployed into his first real campaign), one thing Tup did accept at the end of the day:

There was really no use in sitting down and stubbornly dwelling on, and moaning about, things that everyone else had apparently already processed and buried the hatchet on. And, perhaps, it was just he that needed to shake the anxieties off and get a better grip on this new existence of his.

Starting with finding his new normal via the mundane when everyone else already had a head-start.

Getting measurements done for his new set of body gloves and rather minimalist armour pieces (which were more so he felt less exposed than really needed, due to his sturdy carapace that was more than able to protect him), made it all the more abundantly clear that he was physically not the same. But that didn't seem to deter the rather optimistic armourers.

His new shape was most definitely not easy to work with (things were just built in a way that made little to no sense in tailoring matters), boggling the minds of his vode who scratched their chins and hummed to themselves as they tried to sort out patterns and calculations.

A lot of guess-work had ultimately been involved. And maybe some holonet consultation. All the while he sat there, tail whipping ever so slightly, while Dogma reassured him that his new uniform and armour attachments wouldn't be intrusive.

"Most fabrics feel a little off against the chitinous plating. And anything that restricts wing or joint movement is uncomfortable, so they're going to take all of that into consideration." His twin had explained. "The first few prototypes the other vode and I tried out ended up ripping very easily..."

"That... Must have been a little awkward." At the time he couldn't help but to imagine both Dogma or Commander Cody unexpectedly ripping their clothes in a public space. It had been a humorous and frankly shocking mental image. One that made an undignified snort weasel its way out through his nostrils, even after he'd covered his mouth as best he could.

"It was downright embarrassing... Luckily none of us have external genitalia anymore, so at least we didn't get written down for indecent exposure." The pinched look on his brother's face spoke volumes about his past and current embarrassment on the matter. Dogma had never been fond of casual semi-nudity, much less full blown decant day suit where anyone could see. Showering communally was the only exception but then that wasn't much of a choice. "I ripped my trousers trying to get them on. My stinger cut right through the fabric... Realized pretty quickly we needed to do something about it. Hence the cap..."

"Uh-huh..." Tup had noticed the rubbery black cap covering Dogma's new lethal weapon. But he hadn't commented on it. He didn't think he should.

"Before the boys in armouring figured out a good enough material for a proper cap, Fives just stabbed a cork on it..." Dogma admitted as he hid his face in his hands. His lower set of hands. The other two were busy braiding Tup's hair. "It was humiliating..."

"A... Wait what? A cork?!" Tup snorted once more. This time not feeling like hiding or suppressing his amusement at all. "A cork? Where'd he get a cork?!"

"I have no idea!" Dogma shrugged. "But I spent a week with a cork stuck to a venomous stinger attached to my rear... At least I stopped ripping my trousers..."

"A cork... Unbelievable..." He couldn't help but coil his tail around his brother as the armouring crew came back with some designs for him to have a look at. They had seemed completely at ease around both Tup and Dogma despite their altered appearances and intimidating stature.

It really was strange... The only people who acted how Tup thought they should, were Coric, Sponge and Pitch, who were actively avoiding and frightened of them.

Well, then again, the armouring crew liked a challenge. Tup certainly had become one.

Right after getting kitted up, the second affair he'd had to get in order was a full medical update. There were a million and one tests Kix had to perform to get the gist of his new anatomy, with some notes he and Twitch had collected from the Umbaran medical facility as guides or points of comparison.

Humans and Umbarans had different physiological needs despite being convergent species, so it had not been unexpected for their metamorphic pathways to diverge a little once exposed to the same parasite.

It was, much like with tailoring a new set of kit specifically for him, a lot of guess work. But at least they'd had a proper guide instead of having to invent something with a little bit of help from whatever somewhat-fitting pattern they could find on the holonet.

He'd tolerated the tests but hadn't been overly fond of all of the bloodwork that had come with them.

"It's impressive. Your regenerative abilities were already advanced due to our immunity system being considerably more enhanced than that of a natborn's..." Kix loudly mused as he watched the readings on the terminal with great interest. Seeming much more relaxed than the rest of the medics who'd been making themselves busy to disguise their nervousness around him. "But with these mutations you've suffered, they've been significantly boosted. More so than the other mutated vode."

"That's nice and all, but do you really need to keep drawing blood?" He'd sighed, mildly irritated, not all that interested in knowing what else was different about him internally. What he'd already known freaked him out plenty. "Any minute now, and I'll feel woozy..."

"That's the thing, you're dealing rather well with the quantity I've already taken. Any other clone would have already started feeling faint." Kix offered. "If I could figure out why that is, what in your body is making you basically a walking bacta tank, I could possibly find a way to implement it as a more effective alternative for treating not just clones but maybe even natborns as well..."

"...Uh..."

"Maybe one day, after we finish tidying everything up... Too many loose ends to deal with wrapping up the war, to even consider the possibility of a medical award in my future." The medic sighed somewhat fondly at the thought. Seeming to be more inclined to dream about what might come to be, than focus on the errors of the past. The ramifications of certain situations.

And, while Tup didn't like the idea of being a test subject for whatever cooky idea his brothers might come up with, he wouldn't be too opposed to help advance the field of medicine if it meant the horrors of bacta shortages would become obsolete.

Getting used to his new diet was another thing he'd had to attend to. His body now requiring tremendously high levels of protein and sugar to function at full capacity. With mushrooms rounding out the rest of his requirements, as well as plentiful hydration with a few vitamin supplements.

It made sense, considering the life cycle of the parasite. But it was infinitely sad to him that the beauty of variety had been taken from him in the field of greenery. And Tup was quite fond of vegetables at that. Those he'd afflicted with this infection also stuck on the same boat as he.

That said, the amount of desserts that were now being requested to support his and the others's high sugar diet, were somewhat of a benefit to the mood of the entire battalion.

Clones had a notable sweet tooth after all. The 501st were standard in that manner.

It took quite a lot to satisfy his hunger, taking into account his much larger size. Filling up did come with a certain weakness however, which was how incredibly drowsy he would become whenever he ended up stuffing himself silly. As soon as he was finished with any meal, he needed to take a mandatory nap. Which often found him in the company of one particular medic.

Tup had humorously become adept at stumbling across Twitch. Asleep in some hidden nook or cranny in rather boneless-tooka fashion. How he hadn't stepped on the vod'ika yet, Tup wasn't quite sure, but he wasn't one to just let a brother sleep out in the cold. Thus it became norm to catch sight of a full-bellied and rather sleepy Tup groggily trotting back towards the barracks with Twitch fitfully asleep on his back. Secured by the grip of strong and hard outer-wing that kept his much softer underwings nicely protected.

Sometimes he'd put Twitch on a free bunk, tucking him in all nice and warm, with the use of those horrid tendrils that came out of his sides like tentacles. Their grasp much more gentle and dexterous than the large clunky claws that he now had to live with.

Other times he just lay down in the webbing nest Dogma had arranged for him (as he no longer fit nor felt comfortable on a standard bunk or cot), and let the younger medic remain sleep on his back. The kih'vod clinging to him tighter than a baby kowakian monkey lizard clung to its mother's back.

He'd either wake up with Twitch back on duty, the warmth on his back long gone and replaced instead with a blanket, or he'd find Dogma watching over both of them while he read some holonovel he'd picked up recently.

It was... Peaceful. Domestic even. Normal.

It bothered him on principle, but not enough so that he was averse to it in the same way that everyone's collective forgiveness made him feel jittery. Which was ironic considering Twitch was one of the vode he felt like had reason enough to hate him. The kih'vod was full of surprises.

Full of compassion in a way that most might consider naive. Tup found it admirable. So did their older brothers who didn't feel quite right there yet to sit with him. He'd heard as much while accidentally eavesdropping on a conversation between Pitch and Sponge.

"He's a good kid." Pitch had muttered softly, while sitting with the more surly of the two. Occasionally brushing Beau's fur with a brush that Sponge had dutifully provided him with as a distraction.

Relearning to walk had made the two's friendship flourish even more than it ever had before. With both Sponge and Beau becoming much needed emotional support that Pitch could rely on.

"He's the best of us." Sponge had agreed, a smile on their still healing face. Some of the damage had gone with the wind. Only a few scars remained. Too many scars, in Tup's guilt-ridden opinion. "Such is the way of youths."

"He's not that much younger than us, you're making me feel old." Pitch had laughed, grinning at his friend in good humour. "But... Yeah. There's something about the younger generations of clones... I guess it's hope. They're more hopeful."

"Bitter resentment hasn't set in yet. It's what makes them better..." Sponge had seemed resigned to that, but not in a way that felt particularly bad. At least not from the way they'd sounded. "It's our job now, to make sure those of us that are still so eager to hope can live freer lives than the ones we'll surely live."

"Yeah... Yeah. For what it's worth, I'm still going to try to do better."

"As it should be."

It was a conversation that had given him much to think about. In due time, all of them might yet find peace in this new form of being. Be is as insectoid mutant troopers, or veterans ready to learn what it truly was to live at peace. No war or turmoil ahead of them.

Tup might yet let go, even if right now things were still a little too fresh. Too raw. Too pleasant for him to fully accept without feeling bad. He would strive to do better next time.

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 1 replay, Maroon Sea:

Caspian

Farnuri – Once it had an oxygenated amtosphere. Now it does not. Given the youth of the star and the gravity of the planet, that’s unusual. Game suggests could be caused by cataclysmic event – Reapers?

-MSV Cornucopia – The Dragon’s Teeth that created the husks are in the side rooms.

-What alien artifact drove them to drive the ship into the Perseus Veil? Reaper related?

-This is another question Legion really should have been asked. Based on ME2, only heretics were husking people. So if this ship went into the Perseus Veil and got husked, what went down? That’s where the true geth were.

-Another thread never picked up in later games.

Vostok

-Nordacrux – Yet another planet almost perfect for colonization, but not quite because of an issue with it’s atmosphere. In this case pollen. For some reason, that’s treated as more difficult to work around then Elatania’s issue with symbiotic creatures in the air.

-Interesting that the Thorian creepers nearby what looks like a crashed ship and research trailer are unmarked. Presumably the “test samples” mentioned in the transmission found on Feros did indeed become hostile.

-This is easily the best prefab structure in the game so far. It actually looks unique! There’s a bar, the first room has seating like a waiting room, there’s one of those thorian sacks on the wall… Well done, whoever designed this.

-Back room on the right is also designed well. The pods look like they’re the Normandy sleep pods and I think the hanging structures are from the med bay, but the way it’s set up this looks like a lab.

-Also, bodies. Presumably researchers.

-It’s been about a month since Feros was infected. How the hell has ExoGeni already captured Thorian Creepers and figured out how to make them docile and obedient?

I think Bioware’s so used to working on crunch time they’ve forgotten what a realistic time frame looks like. Someone let these devs sleep.

-So, paragon and renegade ends in researchers dead. Go neutral, you take a bribe.

Matano

-Supay – Bioware’s grasp of human nature shines through again air. Ships land, gather water, and are charged automatically for it by satellites. These satellites keep being “accidentally” destroyed. This will absolutely happen in the future.

-Chasca – The alien art with the ring sounds amazing.

-Finally, a Prothean pyramid that is actively being researched. Hope they don’t mind that Shepard looted them.

-And back to husks. They’re easier to kill than Thorian Creepers, at least.

-There are Dragon’s Teeth everywhere. Supposedly, this was caused by a Cerberus visitor that came through the colony. So where did all the Dragon’s Teeth come from? Did the dude just drop some around each building while whistling? Did whatever cause the husking make the colony create Dragon’s Teeth?

-The Feros communication about this colony mentioned samples, and the doctor’s concern about sending them before there is an antidote. What samples? And an antidote to husking? None of this makes sense.

[fandomhopping]

Ready for me to give you a starter prompt??

Leon was sipping some nice tea that April, this universe's April st least, had mad ehim when he noticed Donnatello weak past. He'd been referring the turtles by their full name to he'll differentiate them from his brothers the moment he was brought back to the lair after... he showed up and he got some answers for what exactly was going on. Suppressing a shudder, he glanced over, was... did Donatello look worred!?

Frowning, the young slider placed his cup gently down, grabbing his crutch. It was annoying using them, but necassary with the injury thay was put to him thay was left untreated. The... He hadn't cared whether or not Leon had been in pain so long as he could still stand, or rather so long as the... thing thay took over his mind could still puppet him. It had been Casey, er... tbe one from this universe, who had made it for him. Careful to keep the click and clacking of his crutch down, he followed.

"Leonardo, can I... talk to you?" Leon heard Donatello stuttering as he hid behind the corner, "It's about... well, it's about Lila Blue."

Leon blinked, eyes narrowing. That was one of the nicknames they had given him! Shifting closer he heard Leonardo ask,

"Sure? What's up, Don?"

"W-well... I was looking into Leon's biological makeup to make sure the medications we're using will, y'know, help him? Some... inconsistencies with his mutation came up."

"Inconsistencies?" Leon heard his counterpart ask, voice getting lower. Serious.

"Y-yes. Um... how do I out this... Leon's chemical makeup is completely unique to any mutant I've ever seen before! He's amazing!!! He could very possibly survive in some of the harshest environments in the world, why, if it weren't for the shell rot and infection his injuries likely would have healed on their own!!! Or at least... he would have been up and at 'em a lot sooner than it would have been for me and you! He's faster than you, stronger than Raph... it's almost as if he was built from the ground up to be the perfect fighter!!"

Leon's heart clenched, oh no... don't tell him Donatello figured it out... please don't let them know! Leonardo was silent for several minutes before asking,

"Whats your point, Don?"

"Leo... I... these specific mutations are too direct and specific to have been made from soem sort of accident. Whatever caused Leon's mutation... it was intentionally done!"

Leon heard Leonardo such in a breath and tensed. Oh boy...

"Don... are you saying someone made him to be a weapon!?"

"It's... a potential option." Donnatello admitted sadly, "And... considering how we became mutants and who it is that's searching for him... you can probably guess the chief suspect for who."

Leon heard enough and decided ro love back, already knowing what was likely to come out of Leonardo's mouth. If he's anything like Leon himself he'll suspect Leon to be some sort of alien spy or something. As he clacked away he heard the conversation continue, somewhat muffled but he got the general gist,

"Think... wants him... weapon!"

"Need... watch him... Kraang."

Leon shuddered at the name but heard nothing as he desperately crutches toward his swords and drew a portal into the night air he watched as snow flurries surrounded him, he noticed wet drops of water falling from his face as the voices rang in his head.

he didn’t notice how he stumbled off the roof top and onto an alleyway until it was too late…

He was still semi conscious when he landed but.. so cold! He just wanted to curl up somewhere warm! So with no other option, he hid behind the trash can…And fell asleep.

[wvbaandtheboys]

DreamEscape: Re-Dreamed

{Call this a re-doing of DreamEscape’s lore and such. I was disappointed with the old, so decided to spruce it up a bit. Here we go~} A dreamscape was created for countless mortal dreamers to visit, older than any measurement of time. You wouldn’t find it on your own. It would find you. Inside, lived many charming creatures. All powerful and unique, they served as the guardians of their respective worlds and spectacles for dreamers. They had no sense of morality nor justice but were created with a single cardinal value. They were never to bring harm to anything nor anyone. A wonderful world, it was. The humans were blessed with various levels of power for their entertainment/enjoyment. (Ranging from menial levitation to the more magic-consuming ability to fly.) Their relationship with the dream creatures differed from person and creature but was over all considered one of tolerance. The creatures thought the humans a weaker, fragile species to be treated carefully. Not all liked them, but most were at least polite. The serenity would be broken all too quickly.  Father Dream, the realm’s creator, maintained the peace in his world for millenniums. Though he took great pride in his creations and the happiness he brought the human race, he discovered that something was threatening that peacefulness. This wasn’t unheard of, and it had happened before but had always been warted. As per usual, Father Dream attempted to fight off the threat.  However, it seemed that the threat had already prematurely seeped into his world despite his efforts. HIs creations were all acting strangely and exhibited signs of disobedience against him. He tried and tried to remedy everything, but eventually became overwhelmed and lost the battle. Having conquered his world and Father Dream himself, the “being” called “The Shadow-Woven Constellation” encapsulated everything in their infection and subjects the unfortunate deity to a mind-breaking, petrifying nightmare. Now, it is a land riddled with fear, blackened shadows and bland colors. Vacant of the whimsy it once held. The creatures within, now constantly tortured by darkness. Some servants to the Constellation that are forced to its every beck and call, others broken by its cruelty that crave nothing more than isolation from everything they’ve known. Even some that futilely fight its control, wanting death to take them before it does. Humans are seen as prey for the Constellation. It feeds off their fear with its insatiable hunger and leaves them as lambs to the slaughter for the creatures its corrupted.  A boy by the name of Peter (or more commonly “Birdie”/”Canary”) is dragged into the nightmare like many other humans. Having previously visited the dreamscape, he is quickly perturbed by the state of the realm and is soon caught in the eyes of the many creatures looking to slaughter him. However, it seems this little bird has many tricks up his sleeve. Joined by his sibling Michael (or “Mac”) who’s been blessed with a power much stronger than any the likes have witnessed before, the two venture into the depths of the dreamscape to wake Father Dream from the clutches of the Constellation’s grasps. Else, be devoured by the shadowy depths of terror that has savaged everything. {Also, I would like to mention that I was considering Mr. Dream being the Constellation. But I would like to know what you all think of the new lore and that idea! I always appreciate your feedback.}