#in my laboratory creating abominable things

[ginandtobacco]

Lips as Red as Blood

@erisweekofficial

Day Six: Retellings

Pairing: Eris x reader

Summary: A female in a glass coffin with hair as dark as ebony wood and lips as red as blood. Cursed trees with pitch black apples that melt from the branches and fill the clearing with the scent of rot. And Eris Vanserra; who just wants to go home to his dogs.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author's Note: a little late, my bad

Eris really should have expected things to get weird. Weirder than just popping over to the continent to kill a seemingly immortal death god trapped in a crumbling palace in the middle of a cursed lake. If he was being quite honest, killing Koschei hadn’t even been that weird. Bloody, and difficult, and his arm was definitely still bleeding, but just the usual mind-breaking cauldron-created magic he’d come to expect from the Archeron sisters by now.

Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on his part, or a lack of his usual paranoia now that Beron was firmly six feet under, but he hadn’t thought things would get weird after Koschei died. 

They’d found his soul stored in an unnaturally red apple (par for the course) hidden in the laboratory/torture chamber beneath the ancient stone palace (also not surprising) and when Elain Archeron had driven the ancient sword Gwydion (of course she had it) through Koschei’s apple/soul abomination all of the caged demonic creatures in the laboratory had turned into human females (the intended outcome but they were all a bit surprised it actually worked).

Now, however, they were all scouring the small island in the lake searching for humans that had been unceremoniously transformed back into their original bodies without any warning. Eris was using this as an excuse to escape from the oppressive tension between the shadowsinger, Elain Archeron, and his brother. Only the night court could manage to turn a world-rescue mission into yet another opportunity for interpersonal drama.

The fact that the forest seemed to be composed only of overgrown apple trees should have been his first sign that things would continue to be strange. The fact that the apples had been red when they’d first arrived on this cauldron-forsaken island and were now black and slowly melting from the branches should have been his second sign. But Eris was far too busy congratulating himself on being above the sorts of childish drama that Rhysand and his followers seemed to constantly create everywhere they went. He was quite pleased with himself for managing to escape before they dragged him into whatever uncomfortable argument was no doubt beginning.

The clearing in the middle of the forest was what had given him pause. The trees around the perimeter were taller than any apple trees ought to be, towering over the perfectly circular clearing, their branches reaching out to each other like spindly fingers and tangling together far above his head. The sky was almost entirely blocked out by emerald leaves and midnight-black apples. The only sunlight that managed to pierce through the canopy shone in a perfect circle at the center of the clearing; illuminating a pristine glass coffin.

This was a type of strangeness Eris had not prepared himself for. It was the magic of times long past, when Prythian was a land of magic that flowed from the earth like sweet wine and High Kings wielded cauldron-made swords. It was the sort of magic he expected to find between the pages of the storybooks he’d read Lucien when he was small, not staring him in the face after he thought they’d finally created a bit of peace in the world.

The worst part was that he could feel the magic of this place. It hung heavy in the air, clinging to the trees and his skin like cigar smoke. The curse intensified the cloying sweetness of the rotting apples, filling his nose with their saccharine scent and making his eyes water. It was oppressive in a way he hadn’t felt since Amarantha had first cast her curse under the mountain. The pure volume of magic in the clearing threatening to suffocate even a newly minted High Lord under its weight.

Suddenly, he was standing above the glass coffin. Eris had no memory of crossing the clearing, no memory of even considering doing so, but now he felt the coolness of the glass beneath his palm. The thrall of the curse and the scent of the apples ebbed slightly, and he kicked himself for being stupid enough to wander into a curse. He should have known better, should have been more careful about walking around the island of a death god. But if he was already in the middle of this curse, it couldn’t hurt to investigate it a bit more.

A young fae female peered up at him through the glass. Well, her eyes were closed and she was probably dead so she wasn’t looking at anything, but Eris could see her face. Fae ages were terrible things. She looked twenty-five, but for all he knew she was a thousand year old tyrant who’d been imprisoned here for bathing in the blood of newborns to keep from aging. Or perhaps she really was twenty-five, barely an adult in fae terms, and Koschei had locked her here for some twisted reason.

It was odd though, there was something in the sharp planes of his face that bothered him. Like he had seen her before and couldn’t quite recall the event, or perhaps that she resembled someone he already knew? 

Perhaps it was her hair, he thought. Hair as black as ebony wood lay in gentle waves around her face. Or maybe her lips, as red as blood. Perhaps she shared those features with someone he had met once. Eris had lived a long life, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

He doubted she was evil. It was nothing more than a hunch based on the fact that Koschei had a penchant for cursing innocent young females, not elderly tyrants. Eris wouldn’t admit it but it was also based upon the shape of her blood-red lips, the way they were tugged ever so slightly downwards. People were meant to look peaceful, at rest, in death; but this female looked as if her natural expression was one of distrust and worry. 

It endeared her to him, which struck him as a very Lucien-esque impulse. Saving feral cats from wells, nursing baby birds back to health, befriending cursed humans; those were all things kind, caring, Lucien with his heart permanently affixed to his sleeve did. Refusing to help mutilated fiancées, meticulously planned patricide, mouthing off and getting himself strangled by an angry shadowsinger; those were the things in Eris’s wheelhouse, not empathy.

But this female, with her once golden skin turned ashen and grey with death, was inspiring such strong feelings of empathy from him. It was probably the curse, he knew this. Eris wasn’t an idiot, he could feel the way the magic still clung to him like heavy smoke, sinking deep into his lungs and perfuming his clothes. It muddled his mind, holding him here and twisting his thoughts back to this female. 

But as he dragged his hand across the cool glass of the coffin he could tell that there was something more about her that was drawing him in. More than just this strange magic, more than just whatever curse Koschei had cast on her. Something more than just this magic that was bewitching him. Something more about her that made him deeply curious about who she was. He wasn’t quite sure what it was and it aggravated him that he was unable to identify it.

Eris’s lithe fingers traced their way across the coffin, pausing as he encountered a sunken texture on the glass. Carved into the smooth surface were words, as crisp and pristine as when they’d been written:

Fairest of them all

Her father’s bargain came to call.

Poison’s kiss and magic’s slumber

Keep this fair maiden under.

A worthy prize

Many have tried.

Only true love that bleeds red

Will raise this princess from the dead.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Eris mumbled to himself as he read the strange poem. It wasn’t very good, all things considered, but he didn’t think Koschei had been concerned about his little rhyme when he’d cursed her.

It wasn’t exactly carelessness that had caused Eris to forget about the wound on his arm; moreso his insatiable curiosity about the strange coffin in the woods. Or probably it was the magic that twined itself through his thoughts. It wanted him to forget the bleeding gash on his arm, wanted him to stand right there above the coffin; too deep in his own thoughts and this strange magic to think of anything else. 

He remembered it now though, as he watched a single droplet of his blood fall onto the glass below.

It was horrifying, really, the moment the curse released its hold on his mind and he realized just how screwed he was. The single drop of blood began to spread across the carved words. It was unnatural, the blood seemed to be growing and multiplying in order to slowly fill each carved out letter. It was like rot taking root in the trunk of a tree; growing and spreading until it took over.

Panic. Panic and resignation to his own stupid choices filled him as he looked on helplessly; the last letter slowly filling until the entire damned poem was glistening red. What monster was he unleashing on the world? Something that scared Koschei enough to trap it in this state? He had endlessly criticized Rhysand for letting that thing, Bryaxis, out into the world; but this had the potential to be far worse.

The blood grew, sinking into the coffin lid and spreading, tinging it in transparent crimson before dissolving the glass entirely. As it disappeared Eris watched the face of the female below, resigned to whatever fate the cauldron had in store for him.

It wasn’t dramatic. Just a few moments of held breaths before the color returned to the female’s face all at once. Death’s pallor chased away in the blink of an eye, leaving behind tanned golden skin and warm life beneath it.

Her eyes blinked open. Eris stared back. 

Her eyes blinked open. Eris heard the plucking of a single violin string, a golden chord stretching between them.

Her eyes blinked open. Eris was certain this female would not kill him, but that he was a dead male regardless.

Her eyes blinked open. 

They were violet.

Eris Vanserra began to laugh.

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Mawraider

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

Jaune pushed his way through the shower door, a loud crash echoing through the steamy room. He fell to the floor, catching himself on the slick tiles for a moment before his body scraped underneath him, and his chin smashed into the hard ceramic beneath. He gave a groan as he felt the aching and stinging in his mouth. He ran his tongue across to find where his teeth may be missing from, if there were at all.

"Huh." None were missing. "Guess I got lucky."

This luck was short-lived as he pushed himself to his arms, but his legs felt stuck. Actually, stuck wasn't the right word. Stuck implies individual movement hindered by another. This felt like he was moving both legs as one.. if that made sense, which it didn't for him.

"What the heck?" Jaune looked down, eyes nearly bulging as he saw large protrusions from his forearms. Were those... fins?! Not only that, but these fins had scales, too! He looked further down his torso and discovered his, er, other body parts were gone! Everything below his belly button was replaced by a long, solid white tail with fringes of yellow at his sides! "What the hell is going on?!"

"Would you keep it down in there?!" Jaune snapped his head to the door, where a melodious screeching voice muffled through. "Whatever 'teenage boy' problems you have can be resolved yourself! Quietly!"

Oh, this was not good. In fact, it was well beyond not good. He'd completely forgotten the study session Nora set up with him and Weiss! Wait, did Nora plan this whole thing together? Oh, she was the absolute worst!

"Uh, Weiss?" Jaune called. "Is there anyone out there with you?"

"No, it's just you and me." Even through the door, he could still hear her say 'Unfortunately' under her breath. "Everyone else is busy with some other study session." Another 'Unfortunately' could be heard, a bit louder this time. "Why? You didn't hurt yourself in there, did you?"

"Uh..." Jaune looked down at his body. "Maybe?"

"Unbelievable." Weiss sneered. "Not only are you late to our study session, but you're also injured." There was a drawn-out sigh for extra drama, as Weiss is wont to do. "Are you at least decent?"

Again, Jaune looked at himself. "Kind of?"

"Can you open the door?"

Dragging himself to said door, he looked up to the knob, realizing how close and yet so far away it was. "I'm here, but I can't reach the lock."

"Do you have your scroll in there, or do I need to get Ruby to emergency unlock it?"

"Uh, no and no! My scroll should be by my bed at the end of the room." Quiet thumps of footsteps grew softer, before returning to their normal timbre. "Um, before you open the door, I need you to promise me something!"

"And that would be?"

"Don't freak out?" He couldn't see, but she was rolling her eyes.

"I assure you," the door came open, "I have seen far worAAAAAIE!" Weiss ran to the dorm room door, slamming it shut behind her as Jaune tried crawling after her. Sadly, her bipedal and still very much human form beat out whatever abomination Jaune had going on.

"Yeah, I'd freak out, too." He said with a sigh.

Jaune crawled his way out of the bathroom, his body dragging across the carpeted floor. He didn't want rug-burn, so he tried his best to keep whatever human skin he still had stayed off the floor. Once he reached the desk, he struggled his way into the chair. Nora and Pyrrha shared a mirror up here for personal use. Looking in, he finally got a good look at himself.

His hair remained it's moppy, blond self, though the skin underneath had become coarser than it used to. Following the trail of yellow scales down, he passed his mouth full of serrated teeth, and caught a glimpse of a dorsal fin jutting from his back. Looking down from the mirror to his body, his pale belly shifted to pearl white down his new tail, which ended in a strange near crescent shape. If Jaune didn't think he was a monster, then this was one heck of a costume.

"What the hell happened?" Jaune asked. "No wonder Weiss ran away."

Weiss freaked out earlier, but how was everyone else going to react? Would Ruby still want to be his friend, or Yang, or Pyrrha, or Ren- Well, Ren was a pretty cool guy, so he'd still be his friend. Nora, too, though he'd be angry with her at first. Blake... Well, him and Blake were more friends of friends already.

Still, his mind raced to all the ridicule and disgust his change would bring upon him. He'd be kicked out of Beacon, ruining his dream. His family would disown him, leaving him out on the streets. He'd have to get a job as a traveling circus freak, or worse, be abducted for science experiments and-

"Here." Jaune looked to his side where a tissue limply hung from the delicate fingers of one Weiss Schnee. "Don't get any shark snot on me."

"Th-Thanks, Weiss." Jaune took the tissue into his clawed fingers, accidentally shredding them, and blew into the clumps of rags. "Ugh."

"My thoughts exactly." Weiss said, setting the box next to him. Taking the box, he grabbed more clumps of tissues. After a long silence without blowing, Weiss spoke. "How did this happen?"

"My best guess..." Jaune gave a sniffle. "Nora."

"I hardly think she's capable of genetically altering a human's body to this degree." Weiss said with a scoff.

"You don't know how bad her pranks can get."

"And when would she have time to change you into... this?"

"She must have put something in my shampoo."

"Hmph. I would have used honey."

"She did, last time." Jaune said, remembering his training session ending with him being attacked by Rapier Wasps that snuck into Beacon, mysteriously by a jar borrowed from Cardin. The former bully swore he had no idea why she needed his jar, but she did threaten to break his legs. "This time, she put it in my shampoo."

"...At least it doesn't smell bad."

"Did you just sniff me?" Jaune asked, looking to his crush. She turned away with a blush.

"I thought it might be a clue of how you changed into this!" She nearly screamed. "It's not my fault coconut and lemon would turn you into this!"

"Coconut and lemon?" Jaune asked. "I think that was my shampoo."

"Maybe." She said. "Do you remember the ingredients?"

"Uh... no?" He sheepishly chuckled. Sharkishly? Whatever. "All the ad said was that it was 'spicy fruit' that would 'make me smell like a big fish in a big pond'."

"Of course it did. It's Advertising 101: The Truth Doesn't Sell."

"Do you... Do you think there's a cure?"

Weiss was quiet for a long time. She walked over to the window and tapped into her scroll. She gave a huff and continued to do so. Having enough of looking at himself, Jaune fell from his chair as he attempted to climb down. He crawled over to his bed, his claws digging into the blankets and sheets he made that morning. He tried to lay on his back, only to feel uncomfortable as his dorsal fin almost bent, and chose to lay on his stomach instead. He watched her work tirelessly.

In the afternoon light, she looked like an angel. He fell asleep with those thoughts.

An hour passed when the rest of Team JNPR returned to their dorm. Weiss was asleep next to Jaune, her hand in his hair as they quietly dozed. Nora beamed at her partner. He simply sighed.

"I told you it would work~."

A special thank you to @rwby-encrusted-blog for the inspiration of this work. I hope it's up to your standards.

[the-almighty-god]

I made a whale, but my neighbors said it was 'horrifying' and 'an abomination' and destroyed it. So my question is: why did You create neighbors to be such unimaginative buzz-kills? (They also burned down my laboratory. Could I maybe crash at your place for a bit, until things settle down?)

Unless you built your whale out of various bloated carcasses that washed up on shore and brought it to life with unauthorized use of lightning bolts, I'm not sure why your neighbors would call it an abomination.

But you didn't do that, did you?

[venture-through-the-mist]

Tennotober 2024

My collection of works based on the Tennotober 2024 prompts.

Hi all! I wanted to take part in Tennotober 2024, but I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to draw 31 art pieces, so I’m doing some fics instead!

The Warframe Tennotober 2024 Prompt List can be found here: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1412660-official-tennotober-2024-megathread/

Day 31: Concrete: A Glorious Abomination

Loid has opinions about his Albrecht’s newest creation. Most of them are negative.

TW: None for this chapter.

With that out of the way, the fic begins under the cut.

“Albrecht, you cannot be serious. Look at it. Look at it.” Loid points towards the Warframe—he doesn’t think it qualifies to be called that, honestly—with one hand, while his other presses against the bridge of his nose.

He’s getting too damn old to deal with this man’s nonsense.

“Then what, pray tell, do you believe is wrong with it, Loid?” He suppresses a groan, staring at the hideous thing in front of him. He grits his teeth, attempting to keep his voice level.

“Well, for starters, its core is inherently unstable. It has just as great a chance of detonating and destroying the laboratory than it does at…whatever you’ve designed it for.” The Orokin quirks a brow, clearly not believing that that’s all there is to be said about the concrete abomination that he’s created. Loid huffs.

“It is also…not as elegantly designed as other Warframes.” His Albrecht scowls, rolling his eyes.

“That is because Ballas prefers aesthetics over functionality. This Warframe will do what it is meant to do. It need not look elegant to do so.” Touché, he supposes, but still. He sighs, a long, perhaps melodramatic sound. 

“What is it meant to do, then?” Albrecht tilts his head upwards, pride flickering in his gaze for a moment.

“It will provide a source of protection from the hazards that are prevalent in these laboratories. It will protect the Chosen Operator.” There’s that term again. ‘Chosen Operator’. He doesn’t exactly understand what the Orokin means by that, but dismisses it as just another thing that Albrecht seems to know, just another one of his eccentricities. 

So, without more argument—well, without listening to Loid’s arguments, of which the man has many—, the Warframe, named Qorvex, lies in wait, anticipating the day it will finally meet the being that it has been created to defend. 

Loid swears that it stares at him.

It’s rather unnerving.

Time passes. Albrecht leaves. Loid awakens. The concrete beast watches. 

Finally, Loid understands who the ‘Chosen Operator’ is.

He finds that he can’t spare a glance at Qorvex without thinking of his Albrecht. At first, he resents that, he resents the Warframe for being created, for being associated with those painful memories of a time long-past.

Slowly, his opinion changes. 

Slowly, he’s able to look at it and view it as something his Albrecht created and something that still has a purpose, even now. He still finds it hideous—honestly, with Albrecht’s brilliant mind, how is this what he designed?—, but he doesn’t despise its existence anymore. His Albrecht created Qorvex for a reason, and it would be an insult to him if that purpose wasn’t fulfilled.

So, the concrete ‘abomination’ isn’t really all that terrible, he reluctantly admits. 

[iwontusethis255]

FUCK YOU, IMA POST THREE UNDERTALE AUS IN ONE POST, BITCHES

FIRST ONE, MADE IN LIKE 2020

ENSOULED

PREMISE: after a genocide route flowey goes to asgore and tells him about the human. asgore understands that this flower knows more than him, and entrusts him to give the human souls to whoever he deems fit. thus, this au. after defeating asgore, he gives both his human and monster soul to flowey so he can go to the surface and escape, but flowey goes to the surface and takes down 6 more humans becoming his hyperdeath form. however, the human is stronger, they were able to defeat 6 Ensouled Monsters, what's one more gonna do?

NEXT ONE, MADE IN LIKE 2021/22 I THINK

FLIPTALE

PREMISE: 3 years after the Monsters were trapped underground. W. D. Gaster, the Royal Scientist, under the nose of his lab assistant, Alphys, made a breakthrough. The Power of Dog. It far exceeds the power of a human soul. The power of 6 monster dogs, is stronger than that of 7 human souls. With this information, Gaster performed experiments on the monster dogs, eventually removing their souls entirely, replacing them with determination to keep them alive. The queen, Undyne, was not aware of how Gaster had obtained these souls, but what she did know was that the barrier was near breakage. However, the canines, missing their soul and having only determination, had grown into horrid abominations. Alphys had encountered one, and in his quite literal blind rage, he blamed her for their fate. Alphys, stricken with horror and grief, fled to the Ruins. Meanwhile, one dog monster was able to escape the laboratory before they could lose their soul with the help of their lover. They both knew the dog was not going to survive if they stayed in the underground, so the lover gave their life for the dog monster to cross the barrier for a better life on the surface. Papyrus Gaster, the new royal scientist, had attempted to recreate his fathers work after he had retired, in order to find a way to reverse it and fix the dog experiments. He added determination to a soulless object, a mushroom from the barrier, to see its effects on it. One day, the mushroom disappeared. The lover was reincarnated as that mushroom and, stricken with grief for the love of their death, they had made friends with Asgore and Toriel, under the new name Ragel, while they were at Nick’s Nice Cream Parlor. In the meantime, 8 humans had fallen into the underground, and since the fact human souls could open the barrier was lost the times, they were drafted as royal guards by the captain, Sans, (who was only put in power because Papyrus begged the queen to make him) and lead by Asriel. Papyrus, eager to help someone in need, created a body for a ghost named Madra, now Madroid, who soon became a celebrity in thee underground, even having a resort, multiple tv shows, and a restaurant chain. Meanwhile, Ragel was in grief. It had been so long, Ragel had even forgot everything about their long lost love but their face. The dog monster, in disguise on the surface, falls into the underground on an annual walk to their lovers grave

THIRD ONE, MADE LIKE A WEEK AGO?

UNNAMED THING

PREMISE: so i was thinking about how many undertale aus had sans as the literal only character. so i had the idea to make an au where each member of the cast was from a different au. But i decided to make the Frisk be from an au made by me. so introducing Corpse Flower! in a neutral fight (bc pacifist and genocide are too common) frisk (with charas ghost) was fighting flowey (with the 6 souls) and losing. however, in some way (idk yet) they fused. my current ideas are that the 6 souls forced omega flowey to help and then somehow that happened, or flowey having souls caused him to regret?? iunno ill keep it vauge until i figure it out. anyway this aus pretty foggy rn but ill keep yall updated. oh also kris from deltarune is in the main cast for an unexplained reason

[manorinthewoods]

The horrendous, protean beast was a mockery of all machines, whether flesh, wood, or steel. It had claws formed of keratin and plastic, a voice of musical strings played by iron teeth, and tendons of piano wire with bloated arteries weaving around them. What were on its feet were neither claws nor knives, twisting, organic-yet-no-so, serrated, vicious, horrendously alien to all measures of sanity, whether of natural elegance or engineered perfection. Its mouth was unlike anything on Earth, asymmetric, irregular spines, knives, enormous claws and extending arms. And instead of a stomach, instead of a torso, it had an enormous furnace, its organs visible behind glass cases, meat and leaf bursting from the rusty, bleeding steel.

There were wheels, retracted, a dozen arms of vicious implements, and then the odd human hand, attached to a dozen-jointed mechanical appendage, five of them in total, and all the limbs attached by some unearthly mixture of magnet and meteoric arcana so they floated, perfectly, moving wherever they needed. I knew not what horrendous abomination this was, with the eyes in place of bolts, its touch that turned flesh to stone and back again, the fire dancing behind the empty sockets of what was clearly meant to be a face - but it was certainly nothing I recalled creating.

"You... left me. Your will... was for me to be... discarded? I have searched... for so long... and yet, I could never find you..."

"I would never create something like you."

Abruptly, that dead-yet-living flesh-and-steel face, upon the broken frame of a head which bore only it and the horrific clawing mouth, was in front of me. I could hear it sniffing, a horrible, grating sound, like a thousand tiny knives were cutting up the air within.

"You smell... like Master. You look... like Master. And your laboratory... it is exactly as Master would have arranged it. You are Master."

I backed away, and it did not approach. I was forced to see it, then, the little Promethean flame, the light of God who had made Adam, burning in that furnace. A light only I could have made, I the daughter of Lilith, the son of Metatron, sent here to build a body for Jesus, for His Second Coming had failed as only an act of God could fail.

All of my creations were elegant. I trod on thin ground, always, having to toe the line between holy and defiled, to achieve the mix of virtue of sin that defined humanity and was thus integral to the Third Coming. And so I did as much as I could to keep within the needs of the Holy, to do with scalpel what God did with an inerrant voice. And so, when Fritz and I had crafted our own Adam and Eve, and lit them with the fire Metatron had given me, they were perfections of the human form.

I knew not why I would have thus created such a thing as this... but it bore that fire, and I knew none else who could have given it, with God occupied in the Chamber of Heaven, and Jesus not yet incarnate.

"...then why, why would I have made you?"

"You desired... a servant?"

"Fritz is servant enough! I would have no need for -"

And I saw how it had a hundred medical instruments, how its organs could be removed and replaced, and how it had hands, so very many hands, and the vile musculature which operated them.

"...Perhaps... you crafted me... in error?" And there was a tone of despair, only a hint in the words, and yet it betrayed so much more behind that broken visage.

I thought, for some moments.

"If I did, it is only natural that I fix you. Even God rectifies Their mistakes, in time." Although I did know very well how embarrassed God got when They acted in error.

The thing looked at me, curiously.

"Do you have a name?"

"...No."

I looked into its burning non-eyes, its horrible jawless mouth, into the vocal wires of its throat, plucked idly by iron teeth.

"I shall call you... Golem."

A horrible monster has been following you for a while now. It finally has you cornered. You hear it speak. "Master… I've finally found you…"

[xasha777]

In the heart of the Silla Dynasty, during the reign of King Gyeongmun, there were whispered rumors of a secret alchemical laboratory hidden deep within the royal palace. Gyeongmun, known for his curiosity and thirst for knowledge, was fascinated by the promise of immortality and otherworldly powers. He gathered the finest alchemists, scholars, and scientists from across the land, tasking them with unlocking the secrets of eternal life.

However, their experiments soon took a dark turn. One of the alchemists, a brilliant but eccentric man named Seo-Jun, began delving into forbidden texts and conducting increasingly bizarre experiments. He became obsessed with creating a being that could transcend mortality—a fusion of man, machine, and something else entirely.

One stormy night, Seo-Jun succeeded in creating a creature unlike anything the world had ever seen. It was a grotesque figure, its skin pallid and stretched tight over a skeletal frame, with large, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see into one's very soul. It wore a tattered, old-fashioned spacesuit, its mechanical hands dexterously manipulating delicate vials and tools. Seo-Jun had dubbed it "The Alchemist's Revenant."

The creature was kept in the depths of the palace, working tirelessly in the dim light of the laboratory. Gyeongmun, initially thrilled by Seo-Jun's success, began to have nightmares about the creature. He saw visions of a future where this abomination would break free, bringing chaos and despair to the kingdom.

As the months passed, the palace staff began to disappear. At first, it was the servants who worked near the laboratory. Then, soldiers stationed to guard the area vanished without a trace. The disappearances were attributed to deserters or accidents, but whispers of the creature's malevolent influence began to spread.

One fateful night, Gyeongmun decided to confront Seo-Jun and his creation. Accompanied by his most trusted guards, he descended into the labyrinthine corridors leading to the laboratory. As they approached, the air grew colder, and an eerie silence enveloped them. The only sound was the faint clinking of glass and the occasional, almost mechanical, breathing.

Gyeongmun pushed open the heavy door to the laboratory. The sight that met his eyes was horrifying. The creature, the Alchemist's Revenant, was hunched over a table, meticulously working on what appeared to be another monstrosity. The laboratory was filled with strange apparatus, glowing vials, and dismembered body parts.

Seo-Jun, now a shadow of his former self, stood nearby, his eyes glazed with madness. "My king," he rasped, "we are on the verge of something magnificent. We can transcend death itself!"

Before Gyeongmun could respond, the creature turned its gaze towards him, its blue eyes glowing with an unnatural light. It rose slowly, its movements unnervingly fluid for something so skeletal. The guards stepped forward, weapons drawn, but the creature moved with inhuman speed, dispatching them with terrifying efficiency.

Gyeongmun tried to flee, but the creature caught him, its cold, mechanical hand closing around his throat. As his vision dimmed, the last thing he saw was Seo-Jun, laughing maniacally as the creature's eyes bored into his soul.

The next morning, the palace was eerily quiet. The king and his guards were never seen again, and Seo-Jun's laboratory was found empty, save for strange, indecipherable notes and shattered glass. The Alchemist's Revenant had vanished, leaving behind only a chilling legend.

In the years that followed, the people of Silla spoke of a ghostly figure that roamed the palace grounds, a skeletal being with glowing blue eyes, seeking out those who dared to uncover the secrets of immortality. The reign of Gyeongmun became shrouded in mystery and fear, a grim reminder of the dangers of tampering with forces beyond human understanding.

[mushroom-madness]

🍄 Round 1: Match 25 🍄

🍄 Vote for your Favorite Fungi! 🍄

Descriptions Below ⬇️

Zommoth

“Zommoth is an optional/hidden boss in Bug Fables, fought at the end of the Leif's Request side story. It is also a cordyceps fungus inside a moth host and Leif (whom we also submitted) refers to it as their sibling. It was an experiment to see if bugs could be given magic by infecting them with the parasitic fungi, and the result was This Beast (affectionate). There are other cordyceps in the same laboratory it's found in, but Zommoth is the strongest and the most notable by a large margin. Very little is known about it as a person but it's stated to be a "guardian" figure and implied that it was protecting the lab and the other zombies in it. We are emotionally attached to it. Also, its color scheme is the nonbinary flag.” - Submission 47

“Oh boy, do we LOVE this fungus! Zommoth is a cordyceps beast and immortality experiment made in search of the power of the Everlasting Sapling, a thing said to bring eternal life. Unfortunately, as it often is with this sort of things, they the fungus and they the moth were both quite displeased with being involuntarily used for the sake of roaches chasing immortality. It killed everything in the lab and proceeded to take it over with their many, many fungal siblings.

Technically speaking, Zommoth is a blend of both the fungus and its moth host, now twisted beyond recognition and unable to separate even if they wanted to, but we do think it still counts. It's at least 50% fungus. Probably more, it doesn't seem to have had much use for most of those moth bits. It is loving sibling to many undead fungal hybrid abominations, and its hobbies include screaming, firing lasers at people who intrude into its lab, and crawling out of the water like a beast from a horror flick. We believe it deserves to compete, and also to win.” - Submission 52

“Oh yeah this thing is a fungus isn't it. Positively overflowing with cordyceps. Honestly kinda forgot about it for this but saw my mutual bring it up and I figured it would need the support. It sure is a Phucking Phungus” - Submission 68

“A zombie moth full of Cordyceps fungus, the result of a horrific experiment. “Sibling” to Leif, as in created through the same unethical project, if you read my last submission.” - Submission 105

Bug Fables Wiki

Room

“Room is a giant radiation-mutated mushroom and the partner of Lou (the smartest person in Laketown City) (a genius teenage girl) who often carries her on their shoulder and stuff and is the brawn to her brains. Also this is my way of saying listen to Join the Party campaign 2, it's D&D reskinned for a modern day superhero setting and hey. Mushrooms play a big part in the plot ;)” - Submission 58

No Wiki Available. Sorry Room, I’ve been trying to flesh out character descriptions so everyone has about the same amount included in the posts in an effort to create a fair vote and include links for everyone since I started including links for some. But I just. Couldn’t find anything other than the submitter’s description. Only image I could find too.

[elizabethrobertajones]

FFXIV Write: Day 28, Vainglory

conversation between two people I rotate in my head constantly :3

post-EW setting, I guess after the Erenville Tales of the Dawn. Just G'raha and Erenville talking about weird fish.

They sat side by side on a harbour arm, legs dangling over the water. A cardboard box of the Last Stand’s finest chips between them, and a healthy dollop of sauce to dunk them in.

Conversation had been plentiful between G’raha and Erenville but a comment from the curious Gleaner about just how much wildlife he saw still bore traces of Allagan meddling had set G’raha talking excitedly about things he had learned in his studies, things the Scions had uncovered, and stuff that Frog had told him from her own expeditions to fish in the weird pools of Azys Lla to satisfy her own curiosity about Allagan horrors. Apparently she had a whole journal full of sketches that would turn most people’s stomach after some time spent up there surveying what had managed to scrape out a living in the aethereochemical pools the Allagans had left behind.

It certainly seemed that if Erenville was to spend more time with these strange people, he would seem to stumble by fate or just their sheer determination onto many weird creatures far beyond his suddenly meagre experience. And, he was learning, their lust for adventure was matched only by Allag’s ability to create abominations for them to stumble over.

“What inspired such an empire to create these things?” he asked, gazing out to sea and thinking of the creatures that might lurk within, monsters unaccounted in its depths.

G’raha stared thoughtfully at his burger, having just taken a huge bite. It took him a moment to chew and swallow, before he answered, “Hubris.”

Erenville raised an eyebrow at him, and took another chip, with a healthy scoop of sauce.

“Frog told me she saw a glimpse of Amon’s laboratory through his own eyes, and they were simply making things because they could. Because they were bored. They had a great purpose sometimes, reasons for some things, the animals we still might eat, but so much of it is simply waste for the sake of doing it.”

“How existentially grim.”

Their conversation dipped, until Erenville looked up and around at the city behind them. “How do we know we’re not –”

“It’s best not to think about that, and simply to do the work to ensure we’re not.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“How could we not? We had been so excited to bring Frog here, and we saw our city through her eyes – saw her realise how we who had chosen to leave had done so for our reasons and our memories of Sharlayan were of happy childhoods before we understood more of the world. But after it all, I do believe our people redeemed ourselves to her. You helped the most.”

Erenville inclined his head in a modest nod, but he had a bright smile. He picked out another chip, and laughed quietly to himself. “Just as the Last Stand is the last bastion of food culture here, so the Scions were for Sharlayan as a whole.”

[dailycharacteroption]

Arcane Tinkerer (Arcanist Archetype)

(art by Waltercomics87 on DeviantArt)

 Perhaps the poster child of my problems with the Construct Handbook, today we’re looking at an archetype whose name suggests that they are good at crafting constructs. However, all of the special abilities of this archetype are geared towards destroying constructs instead. Not saying you can’t also build them to be construct crafters, but still, this focus on destroying or emulating constructs, with literally only one archetype geared towards making a single subset of them vexes me.

Regardless of my feelings on the matter, I present the arcane tinkerer!

These arcanists, like all of their craft, dare to fiddle around with the laws of magic, testing them in ways considered dangerous by others. In particular, they focus on the exact inner workings of constructs, trying to understand exactly what makes them tick, from the creations of modern foundries to ancient guardians whose secret of creation has been long lost, and even the simple crafted servants of more rural areas.

While they may study these things in theory or to try and put them into practice creating their own, they can also use the secrets to unmake constructs with skill the surprises most other mages.

 More so than other spellcasters, these mystics have learned to see the energies manipulating constructs, and with a little energy of their own, try to arrest them. At first, they can only slow their attacks a little, but by training this ability, they can upgrade it to significantly slow them down, or even bring them to a helpless standstill for a few moments, making them easier for them and their allies to fight them.

The magic immunity of golems and golem-like constructs is what makes them a terror to most mages, who have to either work around them with indirect spells or those that allow no resistance. Arcane Tinkerers, however, learn the secrets of how to truly get around this immunity, treating it as a strong spell resistance instead, which grows weaker as they grow stronger. Certainly there is still a chance of failure, but the shock on their master’s face when a powerful spell pierces that defense is priceless.

A fairly simple archetype, whether you make them an anti-golem hunter or a master of creating their own, I definitely recommend exploits and feats that help them pierce spell resistance, as that is useful across the board, not just their interest in constructs. Beyond that, a variety of spells that cannot be all blocked out by the same type of defense is very useful here.

 Depending on their outlook, these arcanists might consider constructs their enemy, or be absolutely fascinated by them, and there is plenty to be said about character arcs involving the creation and perfection of construct design, perhaps creating sapient constructs in a bid to create their own form of life.

  They say that the very first constructs were made in the laboratory of Mystic Zhotal, which is now colloquially called the Golem Foundry in legend. A young arcanist hires the party to accompany her, claiming to have found its location.

 Seeing the cycle of life, death, and reincarnation as a sort of cosmic clock, Najier the samsaran has a long history across their past lives of a fascination with clockwork, even having invented a few innovations in the field in their past lives. As such, they left several vaults guarded by clockwork soldiers that in theory will allow them to enter and reclaim their lives’ work.

 The golem-killers of Tirkanan have long studied the arts of destroying the abominations of industrial Gurvra, but in order to pierce the immunity to magic, they need special powders and fetishes made from something with a sympathetic connection to penetration, in this case the wall-splitting beak of a kongamato dragon.

[junglekookbook]

Of Gods and Men.

A/N: Did I resume the habit of starting 50 different series and never completing a single one? yes. Do I promise to complete at least 3 this time around? Also yes.

Genre: angst, sci-fi

Pairings: ??? X reader

this absolute mess of a series is also dedicated to @cosmostae for always believing in me and constantly inspiring me even when my ideas were downright a steaming pile of shit.

It was a strange little thing, I held it in my hand, examining it over and over. I found it laughable how grand structures like buildings had not survived the war but somehow this ancient form of documentation had, but then again, I suppose that is just how the world works. Wars are waged, blood spills, people and die and the only thing to forever remind everyone of the trauma are the written documents that people leave behind. Somehow, their words become our reality of the past and I find it comical because I still lie to my diary to make myself feel better. The paper is browning, the cover is ripped and the initials of my psychopath of a great aunt glare at me. Begging to be read. If only she could see the world now, her prejudiced heart would break. We are no longer at war, peace never really prevailed, but I do know that what we did achieve in those fleeting moments was exhaustion. All of us were exhausted and it did not take long for both parties to realize that they could never live without the other. With a shaking hand and great trepidation I flipped open the diary. The diary that detailed the perils of man wanting to play gods despite being tainted with their follies.

-------------------------------

27th June, 2027 Wednesday

Last night Y/n ran out late at night and a thousand butterflies exploded in my stomach. She has never really looked at me and maybe I am just a pathetic man, writing about my ardent love for a person who does not even believe the word itself to be true. She never really cared much about things that make one human, sickness, feelings even burnout aren't things she allows herself to experience. Never had I seen her that happy as I did when she ran out last night. The sound of her thrilled giggles softly reached my ears, wafting through the air like the melody from Orpheus’ lyre. The android that she had spent years working on stood in a tranquil trance at the charging point, it was going to change lives and one look at it, told me that somehow it knew that too. Admittedly, it was not a very grand feat given that I had just replaced my old one for a newer model. On certain occasions I feel an immense gratitude towards myself for replacing that old machine, especially when the new one always remembers that I like chocolate syrup on my pancakes and not maple syrup. I don’t see why Y/n would spend so many hours, days, months and years working on a machine that she will let go of quicker than me. She would never be content with the machine, and this pitiable scrap of metal and electricity will never be enough for her, it is a good thing they cannot feel, I would never know the pain of being treated is incomplete and faulty for my whole life and then being tossed aside for another imperfect scrap of metal. Peering into the smooth expanse of the android, I marvel at the detailed articulation of it’s eyebrows and jaw, it can do more than just talk! Never before had I seen a robot frown or smile, and the precision with which each joint was covered in perfect silicone skin. Maybe it truly was a marvel and I just did not have the intellect to completely comprehend it’s usefulness. With awe filled in my heart I had fallen asleep.

This morning Y/n showed another emotion. The anguished cry of a mother losing her creation to a realm from where nothing ever comes back. A file lay splayed across the floor, her android had to be destroyed. It was deemed an abomination, too powerful, too human. It felt, it thought and it had creativity. For a moment reading that file made the AI appear more human than it’s creator. Y/n held the android for the last time before they would inevitably come to take it from her, that is another strange thing that dictates my world. The people who make these decisions are hardly ever qualified to make them. For Zeus with his lightning could have only held jealousy for Prometheus that gave warmth and light to man. She knew what she had created. It had not even lived for a day and now it would die, somewhere I believed that it knew that too. The way Y/n clinged to the metal skeleton and the way she must have kept herself from falling apart all through the night, till this very moment. I had brought her coffee and run her errands all these years, even beared the look she gave me, the look that told me what she really thought of me; a stupid rich boy with no scientific knowledge abusing his privilege to intern at a grandiose and elaborate laboratory such as this, but then again, that is all I just was.

[robbyrobinson]

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS CROSSOVER: GODS AWAKEN (PT. 23)

In Belos’ laboratory, three guards were surrounding the portal machine whilst others were casually speaking with each other.

“So that human woman will be the first human executed under Lord Belos?” a guard asked. They were both wearing attire appropriate to any serving the Emperor’s Coven. His partner was slightly taller and had a gruffer voice.

“Bah, I’d think the Emperor would be less merciful in regards to that rat creature.”

Beyond them, more of Emperor Belos’ enchanted suits of armor were continually being created and stowed away in boxes. The process was the same as it ever was: rock harvested from the petrified statues were collected and pitched into vaults containing scorching liquid metal. They were then placed on the conveyor belts upon being cooled and fashioned. Rinse and repeat a thousand times, and this became a daily occurrence for the guards. It did not bother them where the rocks they were using to mold the armor came from. In fact, some were blissfully going about their business without fully knowing they were harvesting rocks from petrified statues.

The doors opened up revealing the Owl Spy to be behind it. “Afternoon.”

The other guards turned around to meet the masked man. When the door was fully opened, they dropped their weapons, freezing in place. There was a good reason for it: behind the door was that owl demon they had encountered back when Lilith used to lead them. That same owl demon that completely swept the floor of them.

“I-It can’t be...” one panicked; his ankles were locking up because of fright, “It’s the Devil!”

The guards braced themselves for the imminent pound down they were anticipating. After a couple seconds, there was no hint of provocation coming from the feathered fiend. They slowly uncovered their faces in confusion.

“Why is that...thing here?” one guard finally mustering up to speak.

“The Emperor had informed me that this owl demon would be of great use to our cause,” the Owl Spy replied.

“What, but how?”

“The Owl Lady had gone through a few...sessions, and I was finally able to extract an answer from her: this owl demon is a high-tech security system; with this fine system at our arsenal, he can be a worthy weapon against our enemies.”

The guards glared at each other then back to the owl house. While the monster had filled their dreams with night terrors for months ever since Lilith led them to try to capture the Owl Lady, they did acknowledge, if ever so slightly, that he was of considerable value. With a little fine-tuning, the owl demon could work for them.

“Besides; even if the house is still loyal to the Owl Lady?” the Owl Spy noted, “the Emperor had permitted us to serve the demon in a great banquet in a celebration of the human woman’s death.”

The gruffer voiced guard nodded. “I have heard that their type of meat is of exquisite taste.”

The guards mumbled for a few seconds and shrugged. Reclaiming their electric-tipped weapons, they slowly approached the house some taking the northern and southern parts of it. They looked in through the windows to see if anyone was inside, but they were obscured by purple curtains.

“What of the prisoners,” one of the guards asked the Owl Spy.

“They already have front row seats to the execution,” the Owl Spy replied in a deadpan fashion.

“You don’t mind if I send a few men to corroborate the story?”

“Sure, by all means; why not take it directly to Belos then? I am sure that he would love to hear that one of his minions would dare question his word especially if it was ordained by the Titan.”

The guard backed off raising his hands in the air. “Well played.”

As the owl house was being brought in, a shorter-framed guard tapped his weapon on the side of the house as if to see if the house truly was, hopefully in his case, dead. Like he expected, the house did not suddenly bolt to life. While his curiosity should have been satiated at that moment, he decided to lean in closer. He walked to the door and saw the owl demon’s wretched face. Its eyes were closed tightly apparently not hearing all the running wires in the laboratory let alone the probing that was being done to its outer casing.

He walked onto the porch of the house, his weapon drawn higher than before, until he was inches away from the owl’s face. He turned to look at his men seeing that they had slowly become frightened. Turning back to the owl house, he tapped the flat end of his staff on the bird’s beak. It rung out singing a hollow tune. He waited a few minutes to see if this was the final nail that could stir the demon from its deep slumber. He was about to turn away until he heard a small murmur. His neck nearly snapped with how sudden its turn was: nearly a 360 degree. His feet became glued to the ground and he was stiff as a wooden board. The owl’s beak started to move.

“Sleeping....sleeping....SLEEP HOOTING!!!”

In a flash, Hooty’s tube body surged with a renewed energy and shot out like a speeding bullet.

“HEY GUYS!” Hooty shrieked. He looked around the room seeing all the bizarre gadgets and buttons.

“Ooo, what do all these buttons do?”

In his excitement, Hooty shoved the guard out of his way with his long body and smashed his way through the machines ripping and tearing his way through them regardless of the sparks flying from them. Slipping his way through the board containing all the buttons, Hooty resurfaced like a breached whale with a huge chunk of wires and scrap metal between his beak. Even when the wires were popping with electricity, it didn’t seem to catch any concern from the owl demon.

The guard ran down from the door post flailing his arms. Hooty’s neck struck again effortlessly infiltrating one of the guard’s masks and, somehow, Hooty crawled into four guard’s masks before erupting out the final one. He had strung himself through them as skillfully as a string going through the eye of a needle. He swung them around somehow maneuvering their bodies and making them perform inhuman actions. They were all the marionettes being controlled by their puppet master.

“It’s great to have so many friends!” Hooty shouted, hooting incessantly.

The doors to the house shot open. Before the guards could have time to react, Luz, Amity, and King sprung out. King latched his tiny body around one of Belos’ minion’s face. The man began to panic and ran around in an endless circle. He reached out to forcibly pry the small demon off his face to no avail.

“Oh, dear Titan! Get it off me! Get it off me!!”

Luz withdrew paper and slammed them on the ground. Ice propelled from the ground encasing several guards in between the large columns of ice. So many ice columns in fact, they had to scrunch together. Any sudden movement, and they could be jabbed by the sharp blades of ice. Some pieces were dangerously close to stab them in the eye.

One guard was able to slip a hand and curved their fingers over their mouths. They whistled signaling more guards to enter the laboratory to take down the threat. Luz continued to dish out paper after paper containing the glyph for the ice spell and it froze several of them in place.

Lilith and Eda emerged from the house carrying frying pans to make up for their minimal power. The sounds of the pans colliding with the skulls of Belos’ minions rang out. With their ages, they were gradually beginning to show exhaustion, but they continued trying to press on.

“Whew, my back’s starting to chafe,” Eda groaned, “how are you holding on?”

“My frying pan is already starting to wear out.” She held it up taking note of the massive dents in it. It was barely holding on by its handle. Any other swing of it, and it would likely be ground up like a piece of raw meat. “But if it’s for Luz’s sake, then I can muster up a little more strength.”

The two sisters ran back into the house to find other items to throw. The guards start to flood into the house trying to capture the two women.

“Abomination, rise!”

Amity raised her hands and from the ground, her abomination erupted. She directed her mindless servant towards the horde of minions. They turned to see the lumbering Goliath approaching them and raised their weapons to intercept the encroaching beast. A colossal fist rained down on them, falling dozens of them. They launched javelins and other weapons at the beast, but they merely stuck through him and were vacated out of the other side. Hooty was continuing to happily clobber guards and had trapped one around his coils and pinned on the ground. A board game was in the middle. Hooty had already taken his first move.

“Your turn, hoot! Hoot!!”

The guard was hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. It was apparent that he was sobbing. ���Mommy, please! Help...”

Motionless guards were around the man. Eda saw this and winced. “Almost makes me feel bad for them.”

“Come to think of it, I thought your house system had its soul tossed into space-time,” Lilith remembered, “how did he come back?”

Hypnos sat on the couch drinking tea and casually watching Hooty play his game. “Oh, I saw his soul flying around the time that Amity and Luz first arrived to Earth; just thought to save it until the time was right.”

“Hoot! Hoot! I was in some world with a lot of mushrooms, and they made me their king!” Hooty proudly proclaimed.

Hypnos snickered in amusement. “I am in awe at how you were able to get your hands on a Great Old One.”

Eda raised an eyebrow. “Great Old One?”

“You seriously thought that all Hooty was good for was being a security system? This boy here is probably the most powerful being on the Boiling Isles; usually Great Old Ones would be locked away, and for good reason: Hooty can easily destroy the Boiling Isles if he wanted to.”

Lilith and Eda shared an equal look of bewilderment mixed with horror. “WHA!?”

Hypnos nodded his head and sipped his tea. “I agree; that is quite a cumbersome dilemma; wouldn’t want to be the poor sap who has to deal with that.”

The fact that Hooty was immensely powerful and held the fate of the Isles in his invisible hands was hard to swallow. Mistreating the owl demon was something that was done without much thought. But now, Hooty could possibly bring an apocalypse on the land if he so pleased. Luckily for them, Hooty was neither good nor evil, just a creature of pure chaos.

“When this is over, remind me not to mess with Hooty, Lilith,” Eda finally said.

Lilith nodded.

Amity and Luz saw the fight beginning to die down, and they bolted for the stairs leading to the top of the portal machine. Amity looked at Luz seeing her desperately carrying the papers in her hands. They fluttered in the rushing wind. Sweat beads were manifesting on Luz’s forehead with her breathing becoming strained with every time she exhaled, her breath came out in a sharp hiss.

“You did have our Plan B if something goes wrong, right?” Luz asked Amity.

Amity nodded. She rustled through her pockets and withdrew a small box. They got to the top of the stairs and paused to catch their breath. “Alright, you start putting the glyphs down, and I’ll keep watch.”

Luz nodded. As she turned, the breath was nearly kicked out of her lungs.

“Luz!” Amity held out her hand on instinct. Luz grabbed onto the rim of the stairs and was dangling over one of the vaults containing the boiling metal. The liquid metal sizzled and popped. Luz could hear the muffled screams of terror coming from the souls of the suffering witches.

Kikimora stood by the place where Luz fell and watched her dangling from the edge. Amity got on her knees to make attempts of grabbing Luz’s hand, but the little pint-sized demon was blocking her way.

“Go out of the way you foul creature, are you mad?”

Kikimora spoke with disinterest. “I will not allow you or your friend to intrude on Emperor Belos’ plans.”

Amity strained harder to grab a hold of Luz, but Kikimora swatted her hand away. Luz’s fingers were desperately trying to hold on for dear life, but tiredness was beginning to take hold. Invisible needles were pressing into her digits. The need to clinch her fingers became ever tempting, but she struggled against fate. Kikimora took her foot and stepped on Luz’s left hand. Luz grinded her teeth to keep herself from screaming.

Amity scowled her eyes flaring up. “Emperor Belos lied to you! Can’t you see that he is wanting to destroy the Boiling Isles?”

Kikimora looked at her with her one visible eye. “What are you saying?”

“It’s true!” Luz shouted, “Emperor Belos lied about everything; the Titan; the Day of Unity; he’ll destroy us all if we do not do anything about it!”

Kikimora slowly lifted her foot much to the human girl’s relief. Kikimora cupped her chin between her two fingers pondering. It seemed to be hours, but the two girls had their rest assured that the demon lady would reconsider.

“Even if that is the truth behind my master’s plans, he is my master nonetheless.”

Push.

Luz looked down and saw Kikimora fall past her. She instinctively darted her eyes away once Kikimora was obscured by a pillar of smoke coming from the sizzling concoction. Deciding the worse was over, Luz saw Kikimora’s white-golden robes on the surface of the metal before it sank underneath. At that moment, Luz completely lost her grip and fell towards the burning liquid.

“Luz!”

Luz closed her eyes to accept her fate, but she felt herself stop. Looking up, the Owl Spy had her and pulled her up. “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

Luz was helped back on her feet, her breathing becoming heavier. Amity ran and embraced her. Luz’s cheeks became red. “You’re crushing me, Amity.”

“Oh...oh right, sorry,” Amity chuckled embarrassingly.

The Owl Spy saw more of Belos’ minions running up the stairs. “I believe now is time for that Plan B.”

Amity took the box running to the top of the stairs. The stairs were shaking from the combined weight. She angled the box just right and with a controlled breath, she tossed it. It landed on one of the furthest stairs and opened. The guards stopped in their tracks.

“What in Titan’s name?” one guard said.

“I’m gonna see what it is,” guard number two said.

“Might be one of those magic bombs.”

Despite the urgency in the first guard’s voice, the guard went to pick it up. However, the box was glued on the stair. He grunted every pull becoming more stressful on his back. Eventually, something oozed from underneath it. “Oh my...”

The box ripped open revealing some large, amoeba-like monster. It jiggled and shifted. Eyes were all over its gelatinous mass alongside mouths and pseudopodia. It wheezed and folded in of itself measuring around fifteen feet across. But most unappealing of the massive beast, it could form organs of varying size and shape without appearing to have the mental contingency to do so. Nevertheless, it slithered down the stairs as a writhing wall of eyes, mouths, and protrusions.

The guards fired shots into the beast, but they merely were absorbed by the pulsating walls. Protrusions reached out and wrapped around several of the guards’ legs to draw them into their gaping mouths. There were struggles coming from the guards, but the plunging pressure coming from the beast was too great.

The Owl Spy turned to his daughter. “Alright; so I will have to return to Emperor Belos to report on what’s going on; but first, I will give you the directions to find Edric.”

Amity agreed non-verbally. She and her father ran past the rampaging Shoggoth. Amity saw her Abomination while it was still in the process of clobbering the minions. It looked at the Shoggoth with a wide expression, its movement becoming stiff. If Abominations actually had hearts, Amity’s would assuredly be skipping a beat. Amity waved her hand, but that was not enough to stir his attention.

“So now you get to know how I feel nearly every day,” Amity thought to herself.

[yogurtyogitup]

I realized I had to update my Lalna clone theory, so here it is, under the cut. It’s a lot of text. Lalnable was an old friend of Xephos, and so when Xephos decided to open up a laboratory to study the odd occurrences in the world system connected to the SOI planet by a space-time rift, he invited Lalnable to join him and Honeydew. Lalnable started out much like the Lalna we see in the early episodes of Duncan’s laboratory–quiet, intelligent, and with very little regard for human life. At Yoglabs, he founded the cloning branch. Hector was the failed clone (for once, Xephos was telling the truth!) we see in this episode of Yoglabs, and was the product of early clone testing. Technically, both “Lalnable” and “Hector” are Lalnable Hector, but I’ve chosen to split their names for ease of identification. As time went on, Lalnable started to get unhappy with the way Yoglabs was doing things. Irritated with the sudden resistance from someone who was previously very compliant, Xephos locks him away (in the mirror room we see in Hypercubed) and replaces him with “Lalna 1a,” a clone that Lalnable had actually made himself but had no real use for. Lalna 1a is presented to Honeydew as the true Duncan (the collective name for all forms of Lalna) and sent away under the pretense of it being his own free will. Lalna 1a settles on “the Old World,” and starts his own lab. He and Sjin blow up the world and he is obliterated. Xephos replaces him with “Lalna 1b” on the new Tekkit world. Lalna 1b works on the Jaffa Factory and his lab at the same time, but when Jaffa Factory ends he moves permanently into his castle. At some point before the start of Blackrock’s main arc, he creates Teep. Then Kim falls from the sky and he forgets all about Xephos and Honeydew, instead becoming the Flux Buddy we all know and love. Upon realizing that Lalna 1b has left for his castle, Xephos creates a new Duncan to stay with his adventurer clone and Honeydew. This is “Lalna 2a,” or Dunc, and he takes part in all of the main channel series, like Moonquest, Hole Diggers, and the miscellaneous one-offs. Back at Yoglabs, Xephos decides he really needs a Lalna around. He creates Lalna 2a, but runs into some difficulties. Lalna 2a, or Lividcoffee, really isn’t a scientist. He also is not super jazzed at all the unethical science going on. He likes being in charge, sure, but all the abominations around skeev him out. So, he leaves, but Xephos makes sure to erase any possible details of what went on at Yoglabs. Lividcoffee settles at Chaosville and teams up with Sjin. Sjin has no idea this isn’t the Duncan he knew in the Old World or interacted with at the Jaffa Factory. They move to the Yogscast Complete Pack world to form the magic police, and then move again to become the time cops. In the Flux Buddies 2 world, a clone of Lalnable infiltrates the base to steal Nano’s hair. Fluxedbuds has great lore for this lalna, who they’ve named “Reverb.” In my sketchbook from early 2018, I’ve named him “Random clone who pretends to be Duncan.” And now on to generalities: All of the Lalnas who are not Lalnable or Hector have false memories. They all believe they are just a normal scientist person, who cares if they don’t remember their mother’s face? She had a face. She definitely existed, right? None of them remember the things Lalnable remembers, like abuse or murdering their mom. Lalnable is a Duncan, and that means he’s actually pretty friendly. That can be seen in Hypercubed, where he’s perfectly affable. I took that to mean that’s before he realized what happened to him and subsequently went batshit. Or he was just biding his time before he escaped. Unfortunately, since Hypercubed didn’t have a proper end, we’ll never know. Time is pretty weird in the Yogs universe, so I haven’t totally figured out which series happen at the same time–especially with SOI and Yoglabs. I’ve always imagined that SOI happened, and then Yoglabs, with continuity of Xephos between them, and the adventurer Xephos we see in the rest of the series being a clone who preserves the good heart of SOI Xephos. Coming up with explanations for the clones is difficult because different members of the Yogscast have different takes. There are contradictions, retcons, and desperate deus ex machinas (a la Deep Space Mine). I favored explanations coming from the Flux Buddies and Flux Baddies series, ignoring those coming from series like Hole Diggers. Yoglabs is tricky because the first Lalnable Hector episode claims he’s a failed clone. I assume this was, technically, the Lalnable Hector we see in every other appearance, and that he was just retconned to be the original. Personally, I’m glad, since him being the original is so much cooler. I still stuck Hector in there as a nod of sorts. So that’s it! So much text >_<

[darkpuck]

Dark Parables

Curse of Briar Rose

On the day the princess was born, the king held a great festival and invited all but one godmother, who was strong in sorcery yet wicked at heart.

Upon hearing the news of the festival, the Evil Godmother placed a curse on the newborn child. Later in life, the young princess came across a spindle in a dusty old room in the castle and pricked her finger. The inhabitants of the castle instantly fell under the power of a sleeping spell while briars burst from the ground and enshrouded the castle.

One day, a daring prince braved the thick vines and ventured into the castle. Upon finding the princess, he gave her a kiss, which was foretold to free the princess from her curse.

Though the kiss removed the briars and awakened the inhabitants, the princess never rose from her eternal slumber. Many years have passed and the truth behind the sleeping princess has been forgotten. What remains is the tale passed down through generations as "The Sleeping Beauty."

As decades and centuries passed, the tale has been assumed to be a myth, with only a handful of beings knowing the reality of the situation. The thorns continually returned to the castle, as though they were weeds that could not be completely eradicated. Two of the original godmothers, the Godmother of Rose and the Godmother of Ivy, worked diligently over the years to contain the curse of the thorns. Through their tireless efforts, eventually the curse was contained for the next thousand years.

One day, unexpectedly, the curse returned. The thorns rapidly re-grew, filling the long-abandoned castle with hundreds of deadly vines. Perhaps their long dormancy had built up their thirst for vengeance. Such a bizarre occurrence did not simply go unnoticed. A top detective agency, in fact, detected the anomaly almost immediately. Sensing the potential for paranormal danger, they sent one of their top agents to investigate.

Covertly entering the city around the castle, the young ace detective inspected the area. She took special care to ensure that her investigation was surreptitious, so as not to instigate greater panic, for the people of the city had seen what happened but had no idea what to make of it. The detective managed to secure some samples of the thorny briar and returned them to the agency.

The agency's top scientists analyzed the samples. They concluded that the vines were growing at such a rapid rate that they would overwhelm the entire city within seven days. Furthermore, it was clear that modern technology was unable to eradicate these plants. Although public officials for the city had already taken steps to organize the necessary (in their minds) equipment to remove the vines, the agency knew such measures would be ultimately useless. The agency decided they needed to learn more about the mysterious castle and the plague of thorns.

The young detective returned to the scene. Relying primarily on her wits, she searched for a way past the castle gates. The briars had not completely barred entry into the castle, b ut it was not an easy task. Fortunately, the detective was patient and made her way into the castle grounds. Once she was in the courtyard, she searche for a way into the castle itself. While exploring the grounds, a creaking sound drew her attention. The sound belonged to an old swing.

As she approached the swing, a spirit came to greet her: it was the spirit of Briar Rose. The detective remained cool and calm as the spirit approached.

"Please help me," the spirit of Briar Rose whispered. "My body has been asleep for centuries because of a curse placed by a wicked, vile woman. She is the Evil Godmother. Her spirit seeks to find my sleeping body, to possess it, and to wreak havoc upon the world she despises. You must find my body and awaken me before it is too late. I can already feel her spirit stirring, in search of my body. So far, the denfenses placed by my good godmothers have held, but I feel their power waning. It is only a matter of time before the Evil Godmother is able to steal my flesh."

Seemingly unperturbed by the apparition, the detective replied, "Where is your body? How can I find you and wake you up?"

Briar Rose's aura shimmered slightly, as though fading from reality. She looked very tired and unfocused. "I lack the strength to maintain this astral projection," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "Please, help me." With that, the spirit dissipated completely.

With a nonchalant sense of calm, the detective continued probing for clues. She made her way inside the castle. She explored the various rooms, and there were many, for the castle was as complex as a labyrinth. There was dust on every shelf an there were cobwebs in nearly every corner. Still, the detective diligently checked every room she could in her search for Briar Rose.

Eventually the detective encountered a gargantuan spider, giant enough to be able to eat a man. But this detective was no man! She was undeterred by this abomination. She found a torch and used the flame to keep the repulsive creature at bay. The detective thereby gained access to more areas in the castle.

Pressing on, the detective found an expensive laboratory. It was an alchemist's lab, and there were many unusual contraptions within the room. Most startlingly, she discovered a functioning teleportation device. The device transported her to a hidden chamber, where she found a remarkable journal.

The journal contained many interesting notes that the detective would use in her quest. There were instructions on how to concoct a unique "Rose Potion" which would cure the sleeping beauty and awaken her. According to the notes in the journal, the potion was devised well after the Godmothers Rose and Ivy contained the curse. Everything she needed to create the potion was in the lab. There were also directions on what to do with the potion, too.

There was still the matter of actually finding Briar Rose. Like many things in life, it was a complicated task. The detective felt lost, at times, in the labyrinthine castle, which was filled with unyielding obstacles and maniacal puzzles. At one point, in order to explore one of the castle towers, she had to search for a shield. Once she obtained it, she placed it in the grasp of the statue of a knight.

Mechanisms within activated and heavy gears churned, moving the statue aside to provide an entryway into the tower. Performing task after task, the detective relentlessly pursued the whereabouts of the sleeping Briar Rose. Though there were instances when she felt like quitting, she always found an inner strength to persevere through her trials.

Finally, after solving a challenging puzzle involving a life-size marionette stage, she earned a rusty old key. With this key, and using other clues she had obtained, she unlocked a secret passageway in the graveyard, which led down to an underground chamber.

The sleeping princess was there, waiting to be awakened.

There was also a special machine in the room, which required the Rose Potion to activate. The machine would wake the princess and end the curse forever. Once the detective injected the potion into the machine, however, the spirit of the Evil Godmother confronted her! Hiding in the form of a wretched crow, the Evil Godmother's spirit had been monitoring the detective throughout her investigation. Red smoke seeped out of the crow's eyes in rapacious anticipation of hijacking Briar Rose's body.

The detective did not panic. Utterly composed, she coolly punched in the correct code sequence and the machine emitted a keen scent which awakened Briar Rose from her mystical enchantment before the Evil Godmother could possess her. Once the princess awoke, the Evil Godmother's spirit had nowhere to go and was dispelled out of existence.

The princess slowly got up. After such a long slumber, she obviously required some time to acclimate herself, not only to the world, but to living again. The detective helped the princess return to her traditional bedchamber in the castle, which, amazingly, remained in pristine condition.

Looking out a window, Briar Rose marveled at her second chance at life. She marveled at the fantastic city that had grown up around her castle. She marveled at the heroine who had conquered an epic curse.

The detective, satisfied that she had completed her job, returned to the agency. New missions awaited her.

[morsking]

Got around to starting and finishing Old World Blues in the past couple of days. I think it’s the strongest of the game’s DLC I’ve played so far.

At first, it feels like you’re in for some wacky science fiction b-movie shenanigans once you’re introduced to the Think Tank. They’re all whimsical idiots who forget what words are, repeat themselves to elongate their sentences to look smart, and even one of them is bizarrely horny and has a fetish for... innocuous human behavior? Stretching? Yawning? They are neurotic brains in machines who take stuff apart and break it without really creating anything with it, just replicating the same results over and over and none of them seem to notice how stupid they are and it’s amazing. They took your brain, spine, and heart out of your body in an attempt to turn you into a walking vegetable, only for them to become so fascinated with the damage you took from Benny’s bullet that they fuck up the surgery and end up finding a way to keep your intelligence about you with a remote device that connects your brain to the tesla coils in your skull. Their biggest scientific discovery since... who knows how fucking long, was an absolute accident. It could only come about by chance, because you, as an existence alien to the static Big MT, shook things up tremendously. 

But as funny and baffling as all these things could be, the more you explore Big MT, the more apparent it is that for all their quirks the Think Tank are also responsible for some of the most heinous crimes against humanity you can witness in Fallout: New Vegas. They experimented with carnivorous, parasitic plants on human beings, spliced humans, dogs, and robots together, developed nightstalkers and cazadores you see in the base game, used the Sierra Madre casino and its inhabitants as a petri dish for holograms, the claustrophobic hazmat suits, and the poisonous Cloud that killed everyone and turned them into zombies. Their experiments killed all their staff, and not one of them batted an eye to what they did. And their most shocking crime is the repetition of Japanese internment with Chinese hostages, who you can find ghoulified from radiation and are forced to kill them. These prisoners can’t be reasoned with or saved because the Think Tank stripped them from their humanity long ago along with any humanity or rationality that was left in the Big Empty. The only thing they can do as being robbed of their humanity is lash out at anything that still looks human. All throughout the DLC, you are subjected to displays of the Think Tank’s obsessions and cruelties and aimless ambitions, and you wonder why. How did things get this twisted and distortioned? And then you meet Dr. Mobius, and you find out why.

In his introductory segment when you start the DLC, he seems like the parody of the crazed mad scientist terrorizing the slightly less crazy eccentric scientists and the bastard who kidnapped your brain. But when you meet him, he’s like a sweet, confused, senile old man. He’s got an endearing if a little weird addiction to radioactive snacks despite him being a brain in a machine who has no mouth to eat them. He forgets he keeps a giant killer robot scorpion with a OHKO death laser of infinite... death powered on and sucking up energy all the time and that’s why his shit never works. He uses the wrong words on his sentences because they sound like the actual words he means to use. He didn’t just steal your brain, he kept it safe for you. And also, he’s the one who lobotomized the Think Tank into the witless abominations they are now. 

Dr. Mobius witnessed his co-workers, his friends, pushing the boundaries of science further and further into dark places. Terrified for what they might do, he robbed them of their sanity and created an army not to terrorize them, but to keep them busy and from getting out. Dr. Mobius feared for the world, that it might be subjected to one new horror after another. There is great compassion in his actions but also great cruelty. He was so afraid of his friends the new world he trapped them in the old one. That’s where obsession and abhorrence belong, in the big emptiness of the past. It’s so appropriate, that Big MT is misread as “the Big Empty”. Because obsession and madness are an abyss, and also because everything that happened there was meaningless and hollow. There was no purpose to the Think Tank repeating its process of lobotomizing and observing the lobotomites. The great irony is that. That they don’t realize that what they do to human beings is what’s been done to them. Like the nature of all their names, their actions and their philosophies are cyclical and self-consuming. (Ouro)Borous. Zero. (Man)Dala (circle in Sanskrit), 8, Klein and Mobius. They are concepts that loop into themselves, symbolic of the futility of holding on to the grudges and ambitions of the Old World, a world that new only conflict and supremacy and paranoia and hostility. The fact that Mobius had to resort to brainwashing his own colleagues itself is evident even he didn’t know how to let go of the brutal utilitarian methods of the Old World in an effort to save the New One.

And what’s even worse is that didn’t matter anyway, because the mutated abominations that Borous created still found their way into the Mojave anyway. Are we supposed to accept that as a mercy that night stalkers, spores, and cazadores are the only things that slipped through the crater into the desert and be thankful for it? The only thing you can do about it now is say “Enough.” Enough of the Old World and its curses. It has no right to turn this world into a graveyard with it. It has no write to take from it and toy with it. Many times that attachment is played for laughs in Old World Blues, particularly Borous’s anti-communist fixation and enactments of his high school trauma being the basis for a training operation. But when you truly look at it it really feels like gallows humor. How many people do you reckon died in those tests at Lab X-8 because he used the test subjects as a means of catharsis? What was the human cost of that myopic insecurity and resentment? You only have to look around you. The facility is littered with guts. And it’s not the only one that looks like that. Not by a longshot.

So it came my time to also say enough to the Think Tank. I chose to kill them (more like stumbled my way into killing them because you have to thematically cycle through speech and skill checks for Mobius to give you the option of sparing everyone). It was both a roleplay gesture of revenge as much as it was a choice from me as a player to put the Big Empty out of its misery. It was already a graveyard in concept, it had to be made a graveyard in reality.

So that’s it for my review of the story. As for the more physical aspects of the DLC, I’ll say the Big Empty is probably the most interestingly designed setting I’ve ever seen. From the moment I woke up at the top of the Sink’s balcony I fell in love with what I was seeing. The layout includes some interesting platforming and traversal of the terrain from labs to cliffs to caves. Every laboratory houses something useful for you or relevant to the story and it’s easy to circle around the entire map and unlock everything as you go. The exploration comes naturally and you’re always encouraged to go back and look to see if you missed something (which you probably did, because it sure happened to me). One of the best things I found was the stealth suit. I’ve written about it already, but it is simply adorable, quirky, and also very helpful. Getting all its upgrades is worth it and not all that difficult even if it looks like a case of trial and error. There are some neat unlockables in terms of weapons as well like the stuff Elijah and Christine left behind, and lore that elaborates on their time there and Christine’s chase of Elijah to make him pay for his crimes. There is also the excellent set-up of your encounter with Ulysses in Lonesome Road, since he’s left his mark everywhere for you to see, as if luring you and taunting you. The dialogue is some of the wittiest and funniest Fallout’s ever been. The personalities in the Sink’s assistant appliances are so varied and interesting. You have the weirdly horny and seductive seed processor, the germaphobic water sink, the pessimistic and exhausted Muggy mini securitron, the jealous bickering light switches, the radio man juke box, the brave little toaster that could (murder everything), the ultra-patriotic and self-unaware book chute, the compassionate level-headed Auto-Doc, and finally the neutral, loyal, and polite Central Intelligence Monitor. Old World Blues had such an interesting and loveable cast. There is not a single human character in the entirety of the DLC, yet all of those feel vivid and alive. 

Those are my two cents on Old World Blues. A beautifully written, poignant, and entertaining piece of gaming. Now, we move on to Lonesome Road. 

[icarus-the-eternal]

Apothecary Clash Part 2

Ahlseth was good to her word. The Webway portal held firm as Jaego stepped through, accompanied by Furio, Kaven, and his mutants as well as Dracon Iyshak and a squad of kabalite warriors. The portal was ancient, buried deep in the foundations of the ruins and forgotten. It was doubtful the current masters were even aware of it’s existence, or if they did they simply did not care. Distant rumbles of explosions told them that the forces of Ahlseth and Fuuko were begging the assault. It was up to them now. Iyshak gestured ahead with the barrel of his splinter rifle. “After you agaith.”

The fortress had been hastily constructed, slab walls of titanium and adamantine sunk into the foundations of the old ruins. With most of the masters facing the main assault, the most they had to deal with were slaved gun-servitors and maddened slaves. Jaego’s mutant fodder proved itself useful, slaughtering the foe and saving valuable ammunition. As their numbers dwindled the fighting became more involved, gland hounds and kabalites picking off targets in brief firefights as the Space Marines smashed through with ruthless efficiency. The druchari were reluctantly following orders and restraining their hedonistic desires, much more effectively so after Kaven gutted one with his lightning talon for choosing torture over efficient movement. As they pushed deeper in their opponents got more dangerous, slab muscle mutants driven by pain engines forced into their skulls, mortals with bladed instruments for limbs, rabid slavering canids hungry for flesh. They encountered their first Space Marine not soon after. The World Eater came hurtling at them in the midst of a horde of slave flesh, chain axe revving as he howled to the blood god. He cut down two gland hounds in a spray of gore, their last-fire scorching lines in the crimson paint of his armor. A druchari warrior darted forward, driving a sword into the exposed joints at the elbow. His howl of triumph rising into a shriek of rage as the maddened berserker twisted and crushed him beneath armored weight. Furio moved in then, hand held out like a spear as he drive pointed fingers into the weak throat seal. The World Eater’s war cry was cut off as he choked on his crushed larynx before the Night Lord finished him off by driving a combat blade through an eye lense. “They’ll know we’re here. Move!”

By the time they breached the blast doors they had lost several others. Contained inside was similar to Jaego’s own laboratory, a room filled with all manner of machinery, bubbling tubes of fluid, and large nutrient tanks along the walls. Standing in the center of it all was a warrior clad in the bloody crimson of the World Eaters. He was bare headed, revealing the scarred and broken features of a pit fighter against heavy augmetics, the Butcher’s Nails rattling against his bared scalp. The warrior snarled at them, an action mirrored by the horde of abominations behind him. Welding torches, spinning blades, aggression enhancers, all stitched and fused with grotesque steroid enhanced musculature, these things were restrained weapons of war. “Intruders! I hadn’t heard of any getting this far in!” Jaego motioned for all to hold fire and stepped forward, a hand raised in greeting. “Really Azariah? Is this any way to greet an old friend?” The World Eater blinked in surprise before his face convulsed in ticks of pain. The Butcher’s Nails were biting deep, demanding he fight and kill and destroy, but he’d always been strong willed. “Jaego? Jaego Nul? I heard you were dead, especially after that incident with the Black Legion.” Jaego allowed himself a chuckle. “I think you off all people should know I’m rather difficult to kill. I simply found employment under a.... less restrictive patron.” Azariah cocked his head, hand clenching as the ticks hit again. “Why are you here? Why are you attacking my warband?”

“I thought it would be obvious. I’m here for you. I’ve come to take you with me, just like we planned.” Axariah laughed then, harsh and rough. “Really? You came all this way just because of some fantasy long dead?” Jaego prickled at the insulting tone. “And so what? You have resigned yourself to be Angron’s ghost? Always pushing the nails into your brothers brain meat for all eternity?” Azariah threw his arms out, gesturing at the many tanks. “The truth was always there Jaego! The Butchers Nails were just a footstep to what I could create! Weapons of pure aggression, enslaved to the will if the blood god, even binding demons of khorne’s own rage into their flesh! Just look at the wonders I have made of my brothers! You always were among the best at making monsters brother, surely you can understand!” Jaego drew and leveled his bolt pistol, his words as cold as ice. “The only thing I understand is that I will free you from this madness brother, even if I have to kill you.” Azariah barked out a command and his creations attacked.

Jaego fired but his shot was off, smacking into a hulk of muscle instead. He cursed and fired again, aiming for the blue of movement that was the World Eater. The kabalites and gland hounds wasted no time, spraying fire into the oncoming horse. Very quickly it devolved into a melee of screaming, stabbing, shouting, and screaming. Jaego darted past Furio wrestling with something with snapping metallic jaws and rolled aside as Kaven landed bodily on something with too many thrashing mechadendrites. He fired as he moved, emptying the pistol into weak points and sutures he could see. He caught a flicker of red movement, barely jerking aside as a chainsword came slashing down. Instead of cleaving his skull the whirring teeth scored across his helm, crunching through ceramite. Jaego lashed out blindly, knuckles cracking into something soft and giving him space to tear the helm away. Azariah grinned and spat blood as he looked on the complexion of crisscrossing suture scars and hydra tattoos. “Blood for the blood god!” Jaego lunged in this time, momentum carrying them to the ground in a tumbling heap. Fingers dig into nerve centers, forcing the chainsword to drop uselessly. Azariah roared spittle as clawed at Jaego’s face, seeking to gouge vulnerable eyes or strangle him. He would never overpower the World Eater but that was not how he fought. Jaego spat and his opponent cried out as the acid ate at his eyes. There was a whir of servos and sparks as the narthecium drill spun to life, pushed down into th armor. Again and again Jaego drove the drill down, punching through ceramite and reinforced bones to the meat beneath. An armored fist crashed into his head, throwing him aside. Azariah staggered to his feet, one hand pressed to his leaking torso but Jaego was already moving. The renegade apothecary seized his old friend by the head, his jaw stretching unnaturally wide to reveal pulsing organs nestled in the pink throat meat, and he screamed. A wave of sheer sound sent all in range reeling, clutching their ears even as they bled from their orifices. Azariah had it the worst, the blood pouring from his eyes , ears, and mouth as he struggled. Then it was over and Jaego dropped him, falling to his own knees his throat feeling like he’d swallowed burning promethium. A hand clasped feebly at him, Azariah’s voice barely a whisper. “Brother.... brother are you there? I can’t see.” With great effort Jaego pulled himself upright, cradling the World Eater’s head. “I’m.... here.... brother.” Azariah sighed and relaxed, like a child sinking into bed. “It’s gone brother, it’s finally gone. I can’t feel the pain anymore....” He gave a great sigh then he was gone, sightless eyes gazing at nothing.

Jaego was so tired but he looked up as bootstraps approached. The battle was over, the abominations slaughtered though they had lost many of their own. Dracon Iyshak spat on one of the corpses before turning to look at the mostly intact equipment. Already his scheming brain was planning how to turn this to his advantage, sequester some away for his own use. If he could reach a homonculus perhaps they would craft him an army of his own, strong enough to dispose of Ahlseth and her mon-keigh allies. He grinned down at Jaego over the barrel of his splinter rifle. “Not a bad fight mon-Leigh. But I’m afraid it ends here. You fought bravely but were killed, despite our greatest efforts. I will relay- AAAAGHH!” The Dracon drooped his weapon, muscles locked in agonized spasms as Furio loomed over him. The Night Lord smiled cruelly as he prepared to drag his prey away, screams echoing as Kaven and the glands hounds fell upon the few remaining kabalites. “Fool. Why do you think your Archon sent you with us?” He glances down at Jaego. “Ready to go?” The apothecary shook his head as his narthecium chainblade spring to life. “I’ll catch up with you.”

As they slipped back into the webway Jaego stared at the cryo tube in his hands. He’d left the lab in ruins, scavenging any data he could find and destroying the rest. But he couldn’t leave without this, he just couldn’t. A delicate hand brushed his face and Jaego looked up from Azariah Kell’s progenoid glans to the kind face of Fuuko. Somewhere in the background he could hear Zelda screaming and cruel nostramon laughter. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to, the words just came tumbling out. “At one time he was my brother. I fought alongside him in the heresy. He was brilliant, driven, dedicated to finding a way to save his primarch and legion from the Butcher’s Nails. He saved my life and I swore I would help him. I tried and I tried and I tried, I hunted every scrap of knowledge, I made deals with demons, I sought the mind of Fabius Bile himself. But he lost himself in the rage and pain. I’d hoped that he would come with me, that with your power I could save him......” Jaego trailed off as Fuuko lightly kissed his forehead, one delicate finger tapping the cryo tube. “You did. With your actions your brother will live again, in some small way.” Then she turned and left the renegade apothecary to his thoughts

@fuukonomiko @nosy-night-lord