#so much fucking worldbuilding

[boltslutters]

Speaking of music, are there any species/races that have hmm “distinct cultures”? I know the ermista are into textiles. Do others have a specific way their society functions?

Okay so Ermista have several (I don't know what happened, but I latched onto it) distinct "cultures" mainly dependant on where they live. Northern Ermista live in small villages and carry banners, while ones that live south live in bigger cities and have designated hibernation areas and don't usually carry around flags. They are a lot more competitive as they have to deal with the disease and the bird-angels their hateful sun god and have arenas to fight them and stuff. The peeps that worship SAQ have very specific rituals around who they target to be food, how they go about doing that, preparation, delegation, and all that. A lot of their art/tools are more metal heavy as that's what SAQ brings a lot of. They're also really particular about food as it's the main way they interact with their god and SAQ does bring them alien crops sometimes. They literally have the "forbidden flavors".

The tank dragons are incredibly militaristic, defending their home against the angels. A large part of the tank-dragon society (and the reason they are tank-dragons in the first place), is mimicking their lives as people. So they have arms for grabbing things, they use cups and drink in sips interspersed with "breathing", pens, doors, they talk to each other and have handshakes and wares and the like. Things that would be impractical for these tank-dragons, but done because they were once organic and want to retain some familiarity to make the transition as easy as possible. Some tank-dragons, however, didn't start as organic and have always been tank-dragons. They have a harder time living with the strange behaviors of most tank-dragons. For instance, they might not use cups in the traditional sense because it makes more sense to just drink straight from the tap until their tanks are full, but find other ways to use them (like as holders, stops, maybe like a bullhorn if it's the right kind), because they're not used to using cups and using them is inherently strange to them.

Crystal Dragons deviate the most from any of the other UFSS's members. While most of the others are religious (because worshiping gods usually means sick benefits because the gods get more power), most crystal dragons don't worship and actively reject their creator-god, Titatiaraum. Their society is more heavily focused on mortal arcana/technological advancement and Achievement, personal or societal, is a huge part of their culture. They're capitalist, and they do split and fight among each other, usually in uncharitable ways. Some DO worship the gods of the Moo (manifestations of order (no i will not apologize for the name)) pantheon due to cultural osmosis from the other members of the UFSS, but that's usually a minority.

After Titatiaraum dies and his arcanic materials of his pocket dimension are mined out and most companies pull, the remaining mining ships that remain are essentially trying to build their own culture from the ground up, released from the hold of their parent corporations and trying to get accepted into the UFSS so they can receive support. Most of it is governmental, as it has to be a government body that approaches the UFSS and orderly structures are natural to the mining ships. A lot of it is also accessibility-based, accounting for the wide range of body types, tools, sizes, etc individual ships deal with.

Paragons (pre-Titatiaraum) lived primitively as the lack of pain, suffering, even death meant that the Paragons were never incentivized to do anything besides play around and enjoy life. They're really social and personal with each other. There's no natural paragons post-Tita as they were never made to reproduce naturally; there was never a need for that. All were genetic recombinations of original Paragons, and most lived under Crystal Dragon citizenship despite most Crystal Dragons never liking them. The ogs eventually had to flee their home planet as Tita's angels died and no one could upkeep their home planet, which lacked a star and was entirely dependent on Tita for survival. A lot of post-Tita Paragons are interested in trying to preserve and perhaps revive what was lost of their home.

There's one planet whose star goes through phases of light and no light, leading to a society based around these two paradigms and preparing for the inevitable dark cycle.

Threaders have their own unique society based on their magic system of threads and looms and turning people into spindle wheels and trapping them in a rotting god's gut.

Most cyclers are like bees; they're expendable. An unholy amount is also based on racing.

One world's dominant race is a group of machines (Mins and Medis)built as a dyson sphere's first defense. They have a lot of ways their individual societies work (from the difference between Mins built for war and Mins built to maintain a town, gender being a matter of rank and not actual gender (of which they have none), they have blood and a few blood-based diseases and how mins handle them, Ouruls and what they're used for) and a whole lotta stuff I also got fixated on for a bit.

I don't have a LOT of detail (things also change with time and there's so, so many.)

[puppyeared]

littlest furth shop

@laikascomet

[syl-stormblessed]

everyone loves talking about the batshit worldbuilding in WoT but I feel like everybody tends to overlook the Vaguely Evil Elves From Another Dimension that have their own officially licensed chutes and ladders-esque board game that you Cannot Ever Win

[luxaofhesperides]

Human/Mer AU + Bioluminescent Siren Duke ; requested by @justwannabecat!

The human hadn’t been in his territory recently. 

He wasn’t attached or anything, but Duke had started to look forward to seeing him around. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to be under the curious, watchful eyes of a human who could so easily be dragged down into the depths. 

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be indulging this human’s curiosity, trying to lure him closer time after time. Holding the attention of any human is dangerous; Duke’s heard the stories plenty of time. He’s seen the damage humans can do even more. 

There’s just something different about this human, who never dives too deep, who smiles at him and leaves little gifts in the tide pools tucked away from the rest of the beach, hidden from sight. Or rather, usually hidden from sight, since this human is the only one to go there. 

It’s foolish, but Duke actually misses his human. 

It’s not the first time he’d been gone for long stretches of time, but something feels off. There’s worry curling up at the base of his throat, making him swim to the surface more frequently. Steph had given him a look when she caught him, but didn’t say a word. She shouldn’t, really, when she’s been sneaking up to the surface for her own human friend, some small, dangerous human with dark hair and hands that speak more than a voice.

He’d seen her, just once, when he had gone up to splash water and his human then swim away.

Somehow, things felt easier back then. Like the horrors of the world couldn’t reach them among those tide pools. 

It’s reached them now.

Duke’s not expecting to see his human when he swims up to the surface. He’s expecting another quiet night, an empty beach, a dark sky with only the moon casting its lonely light down onto him. 

But when he swims up, his eyes go to a figure on the beach instantly. 

Even from this distance, Duke knows: that’s his human.

He doesn’t think before he’s swimming over, pushing himself faster than he’s ever gone before. It’s low tide, so he can’t get as close as he wants and can’t reach most of the tide pools at all, but it gets him close enough. Human and merfolk vocal chords are different; he can speak in water, but can’t make more than a few hums in air, and humans can’t really do anything in water at all. 

His human is sitting with his knees tucked into his chest on the beach. He’s hiding in his clothes, a hood pulled over his head, but he looks up when Duke drags himself onto the sand. 

Duke can see bruises. Dried blood. A stray tear slipping out of his eyes. 

He wants to ask what’s happened? But all that comes out is a low crooning noise. 

His human laughs, a quiet, bitter noise that makes Duke’s chest tighten uncomfortably. “Hey,” he rasps in a low voice. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve had a better time than I did.”

Duke can’t reach his human. The distance between them isn’t great, but it’s too much. He’s already partially out of the water, hands sinking into the wet sand just out of reach of the waves, and he can’t get any farther out. He reaches a hand out, silently pleading for his human to come closer.

The move makes his human soften, some of the hard edge of tension in his body melt away. He gets up and walks into the water, then sits down next to Duke, taking his hand. 

“I missed you,” he whispers. 

If they were underwater, Duke would be able to say I missed you too. Don’t ever go away so long again. But his human is in no shape to go underwater right now, so Duke presses his hand against his lips and hums lightly. 

They sit in silence for a moment, and Duke realizes that he’s never been this close to any human before. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels like relief, to finally have his human in his reach, safe from the rest of the world. 

He gives him human another moment, then reaches out and carefully pushes his hood back. His human allows it, blinking at him slowly. Without the shadow of the hood, Duke can clearly see the bruise coloring his cheekbone and the cuts going down his temple to his jaw. His split lip is still red with blood, and what little of his throat isn’t hidden by his clothes reveals more bruises wrapped around the delicate column of his neck. 

Duke ghosts his fingers over each of these injuries, hating how easily humans hurt each other. His human leans into the touch despite how it must hurt, something devastating in his expression. 

Who hurt you comes out as a questioning trill. Somehow, it gets the point across.

“It’s alright,” his human says. “Really. I’m not even that hurt. It’s just been a long few months. We never talk much, so you wouldn’t know this, but I have to fight a lot of people. Perils of being a hero, you know?”

Duke knows about heroes. More specifically, he knows about mer heroes. He’s considered being one himself, but the currents shifted and he ended up more a loner, banding with the other rejects of the city to live in the fringes and help only those who wander out too far from the marginally safer waters within. 

He hasn’t heard of any human heroes, but then again, he doesn’t know much about humans at all. Nothing beyond the stories all parents tell their children to scare them away from the surface, or the horror stories kids tell each other in the middle of the night when they want to scare each other.

He hums again to let his human know he’s listening. His human has such a nice voice. Why haven’t they done this before? 

It’s always been a push and pull between them, carefully keeping their distance but always circling back to each other. Duke would let his human swim with him, and his human would let Duke sit safely on the other side of a tide pool, tossing sea shells back and forth between each other.

They don’t even know each other’s names. 

He wishes, just for a moment, that he could go back in time and do things better. But he’s happy here with his human and he doesn’t want to lose this either.

He’ll just have to make the best of what he has. It’s how he’s always lived after his parents disappeared.

“This really isn’t that bad,” his human says, “I’ve taken worse hits before. It’s just that I couldn’t transform before the attack started, so now my human form is bruised too.”

…Human form? The more Duke hears, the more questions he has. 

Duke hums at a lower octave, placing a hand over his human’s chest. 

His human laughs lightly. “Yeah, I guess we’ve never really talked much about ourselves, did we? I’m human, don’t worry, just not all the time. I… actually, I died a few years ago. But I came back partially. So I’m also half dead still and I can transform into a ghost to fight threats. I’m a hero called Phantom. Actually, Danny Phantom since I was stupid enough to just give out my first name when I started out. In my defense, my brain was still a little fried.”

There is so much he wants to say to that. He tries, and makes a series of low hums and clicks in the back of his throat, staring at Danny (he finally got his human’s name!) incredulously.

“I promise I’m fine,” Danny continues. “It was just a bit rough. As soon as I get some time to recover, I’ll be good as new! And I really did miss you, you know. Didn’t even go home first, just come straight here.”

That’s honestly really sweet. Duke hums again, a lighter pitch, and takes hold of Danny’s wrist and tugs him towards deeper waters. 

“What? You want me to go in?”

Duke nods, already shuffling his way back out of the sand. 

He expects to look awkward during the process. What he most definitely doesn’t expect is for Danny to easily pick him up and walk them both into the ocean.

Listen. Duke is not a small mer. He’s big. He’s got a long, heavy tail and wide fins going down his back, his forearms, and the sides of his tail. It’s a struggle for him to fit into seaweed nests with his friends during the colder seasons, often left to balance on the edge with his tail hanging out. His friends struggle to pull him through the water with his weight. His parents weren’t able to hold him much after he started growing.

None of this matters to Danny, who acts as if Duke weights nothing at all. 

To his great embarrassment, his fins flare in appreciation for Danny’s strength. He was not expecting a human to be so strong, but Duke’s not about to lie to himself and say it’s not attractive. 

He trills to Danny, who laughs again, then falls into the water, taking them both under. 

Duke doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold of Danny and swims them further out. He stays close to the surface so Danny can rise for air as needed, but he makes no move to leave Duke’s side even after a few minutes.

He glances back, concerned, when he sees that Danny is watching him with dark eyes, not breathing at all despite being conscious.

Danny holds up a finger and closes his eyes. Two rings of light appear around his waist, then split apart and pass over his body. Instantly, Danny’s body becomes lighter, as if Duke’s hand is grasping at a current on the seabed. His hair turns white and his eyes glow from how bright of a green they are, but there’s something inhuman about his features now, something that makes him look different beyond just physical features. 

Well. Danny did say he could transform.

Now that they’re underwater, Duke can finally speak. The first thing he asks is, “What was that?”

Danny grins at him. “That,” he says, speaking with ease as if he’s not underwater at all, “was my transformation. And this is my ghost form. Quite the look, isn’t it?”

“You can talk down here?! Also, hi, my name’s Duke. Since I never introduced myself.”

“Ghosts can do a lot of things,” Danny answers with a cheeky grin. “It’s nice to finally know your name. I’ve been calling you glowfish in my head this whole time.”

“Glowfish?”

“Yeah. Because you, you know,” Danny gestures vaguely at him, “Glow.”

Duke glances down at his back fins, which are indeed glowing. They flare a bit from embarrassment, which just makes the dots of light lining the fins more visible. He doesn’t glow a lot, keeping a tight hold of that ability, but sometimes it comes out anyways when he’s feeling especially happy.

And apparently, he’s always very happy around Danny. 

It’s a good thing Danny doesn’t know what that means, because if anyone of his friends found out, they’d laugh at how obvious he’s being. Drawbacks of being somewhat bioluminescent: anyone familiar with mers who have this feature know exactly what the glow means. 

“Right,” he says just a beat too late. “Well, now that we know each other’s names, can you tell me how you really feel? Those injuries didn’t look too good.”

“It’s fine, really! I take harder hits all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Danny doesn’t answer for a long moment, then sighs. “Yeah. It still hurts.”

“Stay with me for tonight,” he says. “You’ll be safe. You can rest and heal and I’ll keep you safe from anything that comes looking for you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

Danny doesn’t put up much of a fight. He must be exhausted. “Yeah, alright. Take me away, Duke. You know, this is like those stories about sirens luring sailors down into the depths.”

“Well, I am a siren.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I take after my mom. She’s the one who taught me how to sing.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re friends so I don’t have to worry about being dragged down to my watery death.”

Duke snorts. “Good thing you’re already a ghost then. Not much I can do to you down here.”

He swims down, heading towards a small cavern in a sea rock that he’s claimed as his own, leading Danny into it. The light from his fins illuminates the entrance and the rocks within, a narrow passage that goes in for a few meters before opening up into a larger space full of carefully tended to seaweed and starfish decorating the walls. 

There’s a nook tucked away in the back wall where he’s set up a seaweed bed, the plant braided together into something more solid. It’s big enough to fit his tail, which means it’s big enough for him and Danny. 

“Here,” he says, helping Danny down. “Get some sleep. Then you can tell me about what happened in the morning and we’ll take it from there.”

“I’m glad you’re here Duke,” Danny whispers, curling up on his side.  He holds Duke’s hand, twining their fingers together, and it’s as nice as it is strange to feel how cold Danny is in this form when he was so warm as a human. 

“I’ll always be here for you. You just need to come back to me.”

Danny hums, but doesn’t answer. It’s alright; Duke’s used to his loved ones leaving. He knows he can’t make them stay. All he can do is hope they return one day.

It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone in his home. There’s a communal cave where his friends stay that he visits when he gets lonely, but this place used to be for his family. Now it’s just him.

Him and Danny. 

The last time there was song in these walls, his mother was still around, singing him lullabies. 

Looking down at Danny, curled up and so strangely fragile looking, Duke feels the song build up in his chest. It slips out in low, soft notes, an old melody passed down through generations of their family. 

He sings Danny to sleep.

He sings and sings and sings until all his nightmares are soothed and dawn is almost upon them. 

It’s all he can do, so Duke sings and hopes it’s enough to keep Danny close to him for just a little longer.

[sillyguy-supreme]

i cannot be exposed to a whole entire keefe book i’m sorry. can we talk aboht the government atrocities what about the government atrocities shannon

[dissentersrising]

hmm

sornieth technology.

all dragon technology runs off magic. at the very base of it, all dragon technology is just automated spellcasting. you carve a spell into an object, feed it magic, and let it run. that’s it.

dragon technology can be further divided into two categories:

essentially, battery-fed technology is powered by another object charged with magic. magic-fed technology is powered by a draconic operator who channels their own magic into the appliance.

btw ignore the fact most of the examples on this post are of firearms, i just want to give the dragons a goddamn rifle sometimes.

the basic principle applies to all pieces of dragon technology. the main difference is what spell is being cast, whether it’s a Shoot A Motherfucker spell or a Refrigerate Yo Veggies spell or even a complex multifaceted knot of programmed magic for use in a computer’s processor.

this technology was originally developed because, well—

sometimes dragons want to cast magic outside their element. for example: all flights have a need for fire on demand. all flights have a need for refrigeration on demand. by automating these spells, all flights are able to have conveniences such as stoves. and fridges. etcetera.

this tech also lets dragons cast spells that are too complicated or tiring for them.

let’s not forget that this is still all magic. high level magic, sure, but magic is an innate part of any dragon, so with enough practice, particularly skilled dragons are able to replicate the spells used in firearms, for example:

but for the dragons without the skill (or maybe without the energy, too) to do such a thing— well, it’s still available to them, just with a little outside help.

dragons have also developed spells that straightup will kill the user (remember the gaolers’ ice storm?). by drawing power from a battery, instead, no one has to die and you can still have yourself a nice blizzard if you want.

this tech also led to the development of computers, which run on a web of spells that are just straight-up too complicated for a dragon to cast themselves. like, sure, you COULD run sornieth windows on yourself. but do you want to? it’d probably be running at zero processing power and even lower FPS. just get a laptop, man, it’s designed to cast all these spells for you

[andr0nap]

welcome to Hell Froze Over!

be glad youre not there :)

we have:

Ice Spike Regions areas covered in towering ice spikes. traveling through those regions is risky due to falling debris and strong winds.

Worm Tunnel Cities some cities/towns are built within the ancient tunnels of ice burrowing worms. theyre generally warmer thanks to their shape, which helps with even heat distribution.

The average snowstorm (and a crash-site city) sometimes also referred to as "the wrath of God", for uh.. obvious reasons (theyre big and scary and sooo deadly)

The Hunting Grounds general name of areas with high Icebreaker worm activity along the equator. the ice is much thinner there compared to the rest of the planet.

Ribbon Valleys places named after their characteristic striped icebergs.

Geothermal Areas (with stalker and flying worms) so far only two have been discovered. theyre the only places where the ice has melted enough for the ground to be visible. unfortunately theyre also known for being worm hotspots, thus hard to access.

+ some planetary scribbly stuff & ramblings below the cut

the planet is a frozen wasteland on the surface, covered in a thick ice shell that thins around the equator, with liquid water and a (possibly) volcanic seafloor deep below. theres very little land right under the ice and the planet would be a water world with few islands scattered about if not for the extremely low temperatures.

there are a lot of unknowns about whats going on below the ice since humanity doesnt have the equipment for that kind of research and everyone is too busy trying to survive the cold.

Hell Froze Over doesnt really have seasons like our planet does since its axial tilt is minimal. instead it has pseudo-seasons caused by its elliptical orbit.

its either cold or colder. the highest recorded temperature in the habitable zone was -34°C during the "summer" season. during winter it can drop all the way down to -90°C.

[critdeeznuts]

grizzly saying “I’m not a part of this.” to the prison-themed sex motel AS IF HE WASNT THE CREATOR OF THE LABIA GHOUL.

[aroaceleovaldez]

do you have any 75% god ocs?? like, children of demigods who have a godly parent

i imagine that it wouldn't be a common thing at all but mixing all of this ancestries it's really fun i love doing it, even if they end up kinda op,, sometimes that's the fun of it yknow

I would prefer to not refer to them by any percentages, because that feels extremely uncomfortable, but yes I have oc legacies who are also direct descendants of deities. I talked about Anton in a previous ask (legacy of Mars, child of Ceres), and I have a legacy of Summanus kid in the works who is also a direct descendant of a wind god, but I haven't decided who exactly yet and I only have one doodle of them because they are a Literal Baby and that one doodle is them as a toddler being tiny and babey.

So let's talk about some rogues I've been working on!

These are my waterfowl lesbians. They are born out of me learning that in some myths, the Graeae can turn into swans and I thought it'd be fun to make an Enyo & Nemesis duo who can both turn into waterfowl, plus I also wanted to make an Enyo & Lua combo kid who can just telekentically throw weapons around, because that's cool. Also just playing around with Enyo kids having fire eyes/demigods with nonhuman traits, because Yes Please. It's just fun. Knives ended up with an Odile/Black Swan theme, just cause I thought it'd be neat and I wanted her to look cool. Anser has some swan Valkyrie theming kinda sprinkled in there just for flavor, ergo the Thor legacy (also just fun for her being super loud + a personal hc of mine about Norse rogues being more common) even though she's a goose, not a swan.

I have plenty of other multi-legacy demigods as well, just not ones who are direct descendants specifically, because a.) I always find it fun to think of how powers and themes would mesh, and b.) I actually have a very specific headcanon that multi-legacies are super common in the First and Second cohorts, due to the whole their-families-are-more-likely-to-live-in-New-Rome thing.

I've actually been bouncing around an idea recently of Roman demigods who are children of lares, because there is mythological precedent for that and technically they are house gods. It's just the mortal parent is probably a New Rome citizen and that's sure to get awkward quick some way or another. There's no way a lar parent can not end up awkward, which is hilarious. I also have a fun OC whose concept is based on the idea of two mortals who moved to New Rome with their demigod partners but one way or another ended up single again and then married each other and had a completely mortal kid who just. Grew up in New Rome and joined the legion anyways. I'm just a big fan of getting really funky with riordanverse ocs.

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[rillette]

Pretty boy! Everyone you draw is so pretty lmao

TYSM!!! That's very sweet of you to say! T^T <3 <3 <3

[public-trans-it]

I'm already know for being very opinionated and having some Hot Takes, but I still usually keep it in line and fairly reasonable. Typical "Unpopular (but still somewhat safe to voice) Opinion" territory, where I might get some blocks and some scowls, but like, nothing major.

However I'm... gonna be posting an uncharacteristically rancid take this time.

I cannot fucking STAND vibes based design. Its become a trend lately to explain game systems by vibes, and it feels EXACTLY like the tropification of romance novels. A thing so many other people have complained about far more than I have, where so many works of fiction are now just being advertise as "Its a queer little slow burn, found family story that features enemies to lovers" OKAY, BUT WHATS THE FUCKING BOOK ABOUT?

And I feel like over the past 15-20 years, the TTRPG industry has been having the exact same issue. I can go through dozens of listings on itch.io for indie games and not see a single fucking game mechanic mentioned, and its frustrating. "This game is about gathering your friends to turn your local farm into a sustainable commune!" WHAT KIND OF FUCKING DICE DOES THE GAME USE? DOES THE GAME EVEN HAVE A GM?

And like, this isn't just about the feel good warm and fuzzy games. OSR is JUST as fucking guilty in this. "This game is a black metal death crawl through your worst nightmares." IS IT A RETROCLONE? IS IT A RULES LITE D6 SYSTEM? HOW THE FUCK DO I RESOLVE AN ACTION? DO ENEMIES USE STATBLOCKS?

If a video game showed absolutely no gameplay in any of its advertisements, only showing concept trailers and cutscenes and talking about its plot, you would probably shy away and think the game isn't worth playing if it can't even stand on the merits of its own gameplay. So why the fuck are we accepting that as the norm in TTRPGs?

[tlaquetzqui]

Remember: fantasy races are not just humans with pointed ears or tusks or thirty inches less height. They are fucking aliens that happen to live on the same planet as a population of humans. Give them strange coloring, subtly different proportions and features, and above all, alien psychology.

When you live for hundreds of years, what changes about how you spend your time? When you are the size of an unusually muscular toddler when full-grown, what changes about how you behave in conflicts? If you heal any wound not inflicted by acid or fire, how do you experience pain?

The principle might be called “Wookiees not furries”. They are not just anthropomorphic cartoon animals that have human culture and expectations. Even though they look sorta like that, they are beings from an entirely different world with their own life-history and set of instincts.

[badolmen]

I wish we got more moments of the Walkers being Family like. The opening of “Brave New World” where Hesh says he let Logan sleep a bit longer because he figured he could use the rest set the bar too high for the rest of the campaign. You don’t really get anything like that line again - there’s the “Sin City” and “The Ghost Killer” cutscenes as well but those are both high tension, ‘holy shit don’t hurt my brother/I am dying son but I’m proud of you’ lines. And honestly Hesh’s “All or Nothing” Rorke File where he talks about his misplaced guilt after losing Elias…it’s almost a bit weird that he doesn’t reference how Logan is handling it at all (especially considering he was the one manhandled into shooting their father).

I guess the first unlockable Rorke File where Elias talks about taking the boys to the beach counts, and Hesh’s “Logan’s got my back, and I got his. He’s my brother.” but it just feels a bit stilted compared to the natural tenderness of the “Brave New World” opening.

[ohno-the-sun]

Ya know sometimes it’s funny to me

I’m like why do I always write the boys as humans and specifically recently mermaids, why not write them as robots?

And then I look at my backlog of human bio and fish anatomy stuff and I’m like-

Yeah okay I could world-build for hours using this

And on the other hand I am completely in the dark about most programming and robotics things

[ccasey0]

OKAY. I did it. @thr-333 i finally did it. i made your lil guy. AND i gave him lore.

but before i show you i want you to see the mass amounts of concept sketches i came up with cuz i couldnt figure this guy out for the life of me.

haha this went in so many different directions. i wanted him to look young, but any time i drew him like that he looked weird. so i tried a teenager. that just looked terrible. eventually i got it right tho :)

oke, lore time! i gave this boi trauma so brace yourselves! also, imma try to make it mostly as a fic cuz i wanna see if i can actually write like that. oh, btw for context go here :)

The altar was beautiful. A tiny hut with no front wall. a large cork board on the back wall with pretty charms hanging from it. and a solid stone table in the center with lavender growing around the edges and corners. it would have been a wonderful sight.....if it wasn't Tommy's final resting place. two large men in black robes and masks covering their faces ushered Tommy forward. His hands were bound, and he was too weak to get away. the men shoved him to his knees, their hands gripping his shoulders hard and mercilessly. the priest stood behind him, speaking out to the crowd. nobody seemed to care that Tommy was just a child who didn't want to be here. he knew he would die one day. but he expected it to be from starvation or some sort of sickness from living on the streets. not like this. not as a sacrifice for some stupid Moon God. The priest finished his speech. shit. Tommy struggled against the ropes. please. i don't want to die. let me go. i know i wasn't good. just please don't kill me. i wont do anything bad again. i promise. please. don't kill me. i don't want to die. tears ran down his face, as he tried to plead with the people all staring at him. words failed him. he couldn't speak. suddenly his whole body went numb with shock as the priest poured a bowl of freezing cold water over his head. the man chanted some words in a strange language as Tommy coughed and tried to reorient himself. he opened his eyes and looked up, trying to see the priests face and plead with him. all he saw was the dagger coming down on his head. the world went silent. time seemed to slow down as the blade reached the space between Tommy's wide, teared up eyes. blood splattered onto the stone floor below them. people cheered, all chanting the same words the priest had spoken. Tommy fell limp. he was dead. his body slumped and flopped onto the ground. the priest picked him up, raising his dead body up for everyone to see. he then laid him down on the altar. saying a prayer and then turning back to the people to preach to them again.

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the two stars frantically tried to tell their story to Casey. two farmer stars. Casey had no idea what either of them were trying to say, as they were both talking over each other. He raised up his hands, gesturing for the two to stop and back up. "okay, okay, slow down. uh, you." he pointed to the one on the right. "what happened?" the star began to recite what she had seen. a boy. dead on an altar built by an obsessive cult village. the small star finished her story and casey folded his arms. "well shit. both of you stay here. tell the others what happened and have Ally and May meet me at the Tree Shrine." There were a few stars that Casey knew the names of. but that's only because they usually followed him around everywhere they could. Casey then looked up at the small owl sitting on his head. he sighed, already dreading the convrsation he and his sister were going to have in the future. "go tell Dellta." the small owl, Abby, nodded slightly and flew away. Casey then held his hand out over the blackness under his feet. he was standing on the barrier between the Night and the Mortal World. a hole formed below him and he fell through, the other side leading to the woods surrounding the Cult Village. he looked around. it was dark out. Casey's time. the Nighttime. perfect. he walked through the forest, moss and mushrooms growing everywhere he stepped. it was cloudy tonight. the moon wasn't out. Casey moved quickly, just a blur through the trees to anyone who might see him. finally, he reached the altar. it was built up on a short cliff, and casey was at the bottom behind it. he jumped up to it, the wind blowing carrying him upward so he could land on top of the structure. he then hopped down to the stone floor below, drifting slowly until his feet reached the cold surface. he turned to see the boy. there he was, laying dead on the glossy stone table. a small incense fire had been lit on his chest and had already begun to burn him. Casey immediately brushed it off of the child, putting out the fire and dusting away the ashes. he stare down and the boy, whose face still had blood stains running down from between his eyes and splatters all over his skin. Casey brushed the hair away from his forehead. he then wiped off some of the blood with his thumb and pressed it to his forehead, painting the mark of the Night. Casey whispered the same words Celestial had spoken when they made Casey and Dellta spirits. the mark glowed and turned from blood to a permanent tattoo on the child. Casey then carefully lifted the boy up in his arms, holding him gently and making his way back to the spirit tree.

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The boy opened his eyes slightly. everything was blurry and way too bright, and he had a horrible ache in his head. his gaze drifted upward as he tried to figure out who was holding him. his vision was still too poor to see them clearly. whoever it was, they seemed gentle. and their hands were very cold. their figure was dark, although their eyes seemed to be glowing yellow. the child tried to speak, but he couldn't even open his mouth. all that came out was a muffled "mmmm....mfff..." The figure slowed down for a second, looking down at him. "ah. you're awake. don't worry, Konton. you're safe now." their voice was tired and draggy, yet somehow warm in a strange way. wait...Konton? is that....my name? Konton. I like it. Chaos in japanese. wait, how do i know that? i don't speak japanese? what is going on?? The boy- Konton squinted his eyes to look at the person holding him. fur, ears, four eyes. what the fuck?? his vision was ever so slowly coming back to him....and his memory. he hadn't even thought of trying to remember what happened until now. it came in flashes. the men. the altar. the water. the knife. He didn't even realize he was crying until the person stopped next to a tree and set him down. the knelt down, reaching forward and brushing a tear off Konton's cheek. "hey. you're okay. no one will hurt you now. but i need you to listen to me for a bit, can you do that?" Konton nodded, bracing himself for whatever this strange person had to say. judging by their face, it was going to be long story.

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To be continued..

Holy shit that took forever. Fics are very time consuming. hope you guys liked it tho! please tell me if ya'll want more of this! i know i should work some more on posting HBT, but the Spirit Au is just so much fun! this kid was originally just a lil guy i made for @thr-333, but i liked him enough to make him canon, just like the stars! also, @allyheart707 @kitmay05 and @icequeenabby have all been included in this as their stars! sorry to the other stars, i just felt like these guys would fit best for the roles i had for them.

also! i was doobling the other day and made this :D

onii mask cuz why not? it's not a canon mask, i was just messing around :) that side profile looks like shit lol. but if you look closely you can see the scar from the incense fire on his chest. Konton doesnt remember the fire since it happened while he was dead. although he remembers everything else about his life except for names. even his. he can remember faces, but no names whatsoever. not even pets.

there is a lot more story to this and i might even continue it if y'all are interested. i also have a funky lil comic cooking in the background that i definitely haven't been procrastinating all weekend haha why would you ever think that :D