willard-writes

[willard-writes]

No Title, Just Wholesome, A Human AU Writing

(( instead of working on a ref for one of my ocs, I instead just continued on with my doodles of Oxide and family as humans, as I previously drawn Syl as a human. Then my tablet wouldn’t work. So I decided to write an idea, based on a scene I had in my head.

so welcome to the rare human AU, which of course still features Oxide and my family for him. But I also fit in something that will always mean everything to me, the Huntide ship, so here’s me actually trying to write Hunter. of course context is slightly different but they both still flirted through challenging one another. also yeah Oxide and such still have their regular names. I wondered about like “human names” then I remember I can do what they want but also they are all trans ))

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What a pleasant night, a calm energy in the air, stars shining, and two beautiful lives basking in something different. For once, it was just Sylazide on their own to watch over the house, laying on their bed whilst gaming, like any teen would, gleefully having their tv on full blast. It wasn't exactly all good, there was that anxiety over being a defenseless child, home alone for the first time in... ever, and they weren't exactly capable to swiftly grab anything to use to attack.

On the other hand, their parent made sure they were the utmost comfortable, having Glycerin on standby to come over whenever and all other possible security measures had been made, from alarms to cameras. Of course, there was also the best thing keeping them grounded, the constant texts from their aforementioned parent. "Sylazide, are you home", "Sylazide, are you in your room?", "Sylazide, respond to me I will call you." List goes on.

But the night had been mundane, all the precaution really lead to, well, the eventual call. A playful roll of the eyes from the teen as their music had been paused to begin the delightful ringtone that they customized to the only noise suited - the various screams of Oxide. He was a person of many disgruntled noises. "I told you I would call you."

"I took one extra second to finally check my phone, Par, I'm alright. Things are chill."

"I still needed to call you. My date and I got caught up in something, and we hadn't gone to dinner. So I'll pick up something for us, and bring it back for you. Your choice."

"Oh fuck yeah, pizza time!"

"No swearing, no references to those memes."

"What's that Par, I can't hear you over the sounds of Spiderman 2 Pizza Theme."

"Nitros Sylazide."

"Fine, fine, but yeah thanks, see you later, gay nerd."

Audible sigh, followed by click.

Now, where was Oxide? Leaning against his car, standing actually decently close to the one he had gone on a date with, a twink--no, svelte (according to him) fellow named Hunter. He was a newcomer to the city, having heard of it having the best organizations for up-and-coming racers, and upon hearing that one Nitros Oxide was something of a legend, he immediately went to challenging him to races. After weeks of such occurrences, it turned out they really hit it off. Like, extremely kind of really, as this was the first time Oxide was on a date at all.

"Was that your kid you were talking to?" The shorter one had asked, watching him nod in response. "Nice. In that case, lemme buy your guys' pizza. 'S'long as I can have some."

"Would you just want to eat it in the car before I get home or---"

"Nah, invite me to your home, dude. You said they were shy, right? Well, I'll show that I mean well, and maybe that'll help them get more comfortable around me, because they might have to at some point."

"It's more than shyness, it's anxiety. They are scared of other people, and this whole thing is new to them."

"I get that and all, like I understand it a lot, but that just directs me more to my point. All you two can do is give it a shot, right? This night is already a first for the both of you."

As the two looked back at the stars above them, Oxide deeply pondered it. "Alright. You raise good points. If we keep going out, we can't just ignore them."

"Aren't you forward, you want to go out more~." Hunter joked, smirking as he gave the other a nudge, resulting in a noticeable blush across his face. "C'mon. Pizza time."

"Not you too!" He groaned. "... In all seriousness... thanks. I really wasn't expecting someone to be receptive that they happen to be dating a single parent."

"Don't worry about it, it's no problem. I think it's real cool, actually." Though, it certainly did raise some questions, but first date was not the time to pry too much into personal territory. He already was treading on where the taller one was vulnerable. It was important to take things one step at a time, as much as they were already bonding pretty well, having enough of a good time watching the sky on the hillside. ----------- Some time later, back at the Nitros estate, even with the stack of pizza boxes in Hunter's arms, he was in awe, seeing his date's home up close, as he unlocked the door. "Is this what a racer's budget can bring?" He unknowingly muttered.

"As I told you, my mom helped pay for a lot of things of mine."

"And what does she do?"

"Uh... don't worry about it." Weird response, but okay. As the two took more steps in, Oxide proceeded to raise his voice. "Sylazide, come down here!"

It took a few seconds to hear a door open, followed by a few screeches of tires against the floor. "Not gonna bring the pizza up to me, Par? I can eat a whole box, believe me." They spoke, reaching the stairs and settling themselves upon the chair lift, beginning to bring them down to the main floor. "So, how'd that date goooo...."  Their statement started to drift, and the lift halted as they noticed the newcomer to the household. Immediate shock was brought upon their face as their lips closed shut.

Hunter smiled and brought a hand up to quickly wave at the smaller one. Now he was getting an idea of where at least some of the anxiety had come from within the child, considering their singular leg and wheelchair stationed by base of the stairs. "Hello!"

"He volunteered on coming to meet you, on top of buying your food." The parent told his offspring. "You don't have to eat with us, but I wanted you to at least meet Hunter. Is that okay, Sylazide?"

Pause. Followed by the chair lift rising up the stairs and not coming down. Then lowering again. Then back up. Then back down, increasing in speed as they shuffled into their main floor wheelchair. Scared to make eye contact, they quickly went towards the dining area.

"Well. It's a step, right?" Hunter sheepishly asked, running a hand across his hair with a nervous grin. However, soon he realized that he said and covered his mouth.

It took a few moments for anyone to respond, but what was soon heard was a laugh track being played over the phone Sylazide had in their hands.

Oxide turned towards Hunter, realizing that he could have been afraid the laugh track was sarcastic. "They do that all the time, they thought it was funny. That's their sense of humor."

Through a text-to-speech program, Syl soon replied with, "But for saying that, it's gonna cost you."

"What's it gonna cost, little dude?" Hunter questioned, starting to relax as it appeared as things were going well. "I already bought your food."

"Gonna cost you in getting called a twink."

"Wha---hey! I'm svelte!" It was obvious he wasn't really angry, just playing along. They were just lucky he wasn't going to push their comfort zone, now was not the time to give them a noogie in retaliation. 

But that was for the future. Now was just a pleasant night.

[willard-writes]

Hollownopus Coronatus, A Night With Glycerin

(( hey what do you do when you’re struck with inspiration in the midst of depression? freeform write, just do whatever!!! no plan just go!! ))

1 PM had struck. It had to be 1 PM. The start of the morning, an in-between of dusk and dawn. Did that even matter, none of these words had a point, it was all the same. Did it even matter on Gasmoxia, where more often than not was the light trapped in within the planet’s atmosphere, leaving blinding light to pierce through dust and sand that traveled through the air, the only thing leading to any protection from the sun being a heavy plate on a window. Only the best for the Queen of the whole planet.

Rewinding to the earlier statement, everything felt the same - stagnant, no matter the hour. Just that time of the week for Nitros Glycerin III, as she fell victim to her own thoughts. Not even the slight buzz of her TV screen as the feed had ceased, the distraction of the lights and sounds of various recordings had reached its end, leaving her laying still on her bed, staring up at the roof.

Lowering each of her four skinny legs, one by one, off her bed, not a single feeling coursed through her as her body tumbled to the ground, no pain, no sound of the impact nor the fluttering of her wings as she forced herself up. Only a strong curse within her head, her mind the only thing capable of conjuring her screeching vocals.

An anxiety rising up in one of her hearts, she grew needy, demanding some sort of stimuli, everything felt just so empty in her room, it was absolutely crushing, as her slit-like pupils gazed around, her head literally spinning in place. Was her room getting smaller? No, no, she needed to ground herself, this was just a normal occurrence. The sensation of no escape, the manifestation in shapes in the walls that had no distinction, then the pulling on each of her bony body parts.

The only sound that was making itself distinct was the reminder of the position she was in... someone with intense insomnia and restlessness. One of those things had a cure, right, she told herself. What she could do to bring some senses back to her, to get her through this night? Retrieving her phone, her sharp finger raced through her contacts. Oxide should be awake, she knew he was particularly bad about sleeping. No, contacting any of her children wouldn’t do, she couldn’t worry them. That really only left her with her lovers to contact, which for some she could probably get away with, different planetary time zones and all. Out of the question, why would they travel all the way to her palace on Gasmoxia to endanger themselves? Not even the one on her planet she could contact.

Everything around her began to give the illusion as if it was warping, leaving her to shake her head. She’s combatted whatever this was before, she could do it again! Opening the door very carefully, she skittered out of her room, down the various floors and halls throughout the castle, she still found herself perturbed how quiet everything was, even with the nocturnal guards patrolled all around,  it really seemed as if all she really knew within the hour was isolation.

She completely thought this night was going to go off without a hitch, she would go berserk in the dining room, trying to find a way to calm herself or feel something, and she could just go back into her room, watching the immensely cinematic reviews of the entire discography of folk music by a band from Teknee. That all could be fun.

Part one went without a hitch as luckily there were usually leftovers waiting for her, the staff knowing what they were dealing with. All Glycerin could hope now is that there was less of a feeling like death was looming over her, she fulfilled part of her role as a parasite host, she still couldn’t sleep or really depend on others, but she wasn’t going to die. Go team Queen Glycerin!

Now, part two of just once more laying flat on her bed and simply existing for the next four hours. That was when something finally hit her hearing glands after what resembled an eternity, as she opened the door and saw her fourth child, Lithium, stare up at her, asking what she was doing.

Nervously giggling, she asked what they meant, and in response they blankly stared at their parent, remarking that they were trained to be a protector of their planet, of the royals; if there was anything they could make out, it was the crashing of dishes and the rushing through the halls - and this happened every week.

At a loss for words, the monarch heard her third youngest ask her why was this the case, was there something that she didn’t talk about, was the position of being the head of a family such as hers too much pressure? She still couldn’t respond. She didn’t want to push anyone away or refuse help but she wasn’t about to keep her offspring from sleep, or force her problems onto anyone else. 

“We’ll talk in the morning, but you can take me back to my room.”

 “It is the morning.” 

Their remark brought some relief to her, a smile amidst all the emptiness at the beginning of her journey outside her room; that she was in a family of smartasses.

As she returned to her room, she bid Lithium a good night. As they left, her room appeared a lot less closing-in-on-itself. Perhaps relying on people a bit helped.

[willard-writes]

Chemical Connections, a Nitros Dynasty Story

(( you all don’t know how long I’ve had ‘how am I gonna worm in Iridium and Arrow into my writing’ in my head. but also this, just the family ))

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The notion of a gathering was always an important one. To most normal, stable families, it was about bonding, getting to a better understanding, celebration, the list goes on. While, to some extent, that could be befitting to the group upon us...

...The famous Nitros dynasty, a long-running lineage of absolute monarchs on the planet of Gasmoxia, were anything but normal and stable. See this scenario, a group of four hybrids, sitting around a luxurious, sturdy table with a glowing circle in the middle.

“Oh golly, an official royal meeting! Aren’t you all excited?” Chirped one member with primarily sky skin, the easily excitedable Chlorine.

“No.” Retorted everybody else.

“Aw, why not? Think about it, Oxide had asked us for his assistance!”

“If he thinks he’s so worthy to continue to be My Queen’s heir, then he shouldn’t need us, right?” An individual voice had piped up with a vague English accent, had to be Citric. “I had better things to do then give him a hand.”

Before their sibling could even ask what, the second youngest hybrid spoke, to defend the honor of the current reigning prince, and the possible feelings of their auncle. “Like what, Citric? Failing to impress your father with a sentient lemon? Can’t impress what’s right in front of ya.”

“You leave him out of this, Iridium! He would love my sourtificial intelligences!”

“Sucks to not have Lithium to break up your battles, huh?” 

“Only because she’s training with your lame dad!” Watching the half-cheetah’s expression turn into one of anger, they continued. “See, it’s not fun to be on the receiving end of that kind of stuff, is it?”

Unable to cope with a full on fight breaking out when this was neither the time nor place, the very youngest decided it was their time to weigh in. Arrow stretched out their tail as they leaned over, giving a tap to their older sibling’s shoulder. 

“C-Come on, Iri. Not in front of Auncle Chlorine.”

“Huh?” They asked, sucked out of their swiftly consuming fury. “Oh, oh, dang, right.” They gave a wave towards their older relative, to which they waved back, seemingly unfazed. “I don’t get it though, why do we have to be here? I don’t wanna sit around and listen to talk about the nuance of being royalty.”

“I mean, neither do I. I don’t have anything of value to say.” Arrow agreed. “Shouldn’t there be something more to us being on Gasmoxia?”

“Isn’t just being on you two’s third home enough of something?” Chlorine interjected. “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think this is already something big! To contribute to your par’s rule!”

The implied importance of it all just seemed to go past the furred one’s head. “But why can’t we be seeing something cooler! Par’s a galaxy renowned ruler, shouldn’t he be showing us relics of all the places he went to!”

“Uh, guys?” The other half-cheetah turned towards the room’s door. “I hear steps, seven of them.”

“Heck! How can I possibly ditch now!?”

There was a long sigh from Arrow as they fidgeted in place, trying to look completely innocent in their seat as the door had opened. Walking into the room of discussion was the earlier mentioned Prince Oxide VI and his own heir...

“Hey, what’s poppin’ gamers.”

“NITROS SYLAZIDE!”

A snort was soon followed, which in turn was followed up with the signature sigh and groan of the eldest of the whole group. Oxide soon took his throne-esque seat at the furthest end of the table, facing nearly all of his younger siblings, as well as his youngest children, with Sylazide at his side.

“I should explain what had taken me so long, it was just a short while of discussing matters with My Queen. She insists she’s still in fine health, yet, wanted me to carry on with this.”

There was an air of uncertainty surrounding the whole family until he had spoken up once more. “Now, before we proceed with the first official meeting under (Soon-to-be) Queen Nitros Oxide, do we have any questions.... None of which can be ‘can I leave’, Citric.”

For a while it seemed a scoff would be the only response, but soon Arrow raised their hand up. “Uhm, Par--er-- your highness? Why isn’t Auncle Dioxide here? Aren’t they part of the family?”

“They know what they did.”

And with what could only be described as a matter not to be looked further into, the salty sovereign did his best to actually have something successful, perhaps even stable amongst a family of known recent disaster.

[willard-writes]

(( oopsies! I haven’t really written anything for a long time ))

(( I think I am ready to get back on the horse I just need... an idea. and I got nothing ))

(( so shoot me ideas, I’m very open, as long as I know what I’m getting into, like in terms of what fandom or like what characters might be involved ))

(( if you wanna request something of my OCs, I got a toyhouse! ))

[willard-writes]

(( I am so sorry this blog is not dead I just hit a really weird point in inspiration and motivation to write, however with me getting more back on track with RP blogs, I will potentially get back to solo stuff ))

[willard-writes]

Extraterrestrial Tales (Part 1)

(( oooooo so for a while I wanted to have like some of the lore of Gasmoxia put out, but in writing form. Like, I did do a post on my main blog summing it up, but I really wanted to explain it so it’s on here, like sort of in-universe, yknow. And I think I figured out how to do so. Plus I got inspiration towards another buge, one that is technically of the main Nitros dynasty. we in for a Time-lazide. heh ))

(( Post writing note: WOW OKAY THIS GOT LONG, UH TWO-PARTER TIME))

Just another night on Earth, Oxide thought to himself, his strange body leaning forwards as his scrawny elbows rested on his right legs. His trunk shifted more to the side of his face, as he proceeded to pout. If there was anything he was thankful for when it came to the dark of the night, it was that he couldn’t really see any potential distractions. He wasn’t really keen on anything breaking him out of his brooding state.

Sure, it wasn’t a big deal if there were interruptions, he did tend to do this every night. What else was there to do but ponder, reflect, and probably internally monologue. Sleep wasn’t something he preferred to do, not even the high-tech alien ship that he had called his shelter for years brought him some sense of security, but it was better than nothing.

As if right on cue, as the concept of an interruption crossed his mind, he heard a whistling through the hall to the front of the ship. A metal hiss could be heard as the door to the cockpit opened, and while the whistling ceased, a rather routine skittering followed, evenly paced steps making it’s way towards his chair. 

“Hey, Par.” A raspy voice greeted, it’s owner looking up at the green insectoid. Oxide silently corrected himself, when it came to dusk, the only ones that he could see ceasing the silence were his own family members. If it wasn’t his parent, it was his own child.

“Figured you were staying up all night again, so I thought I’d save you some time.” Soon, one by one, cans of various caffeinated drinks floated towards the racer, being placed too close for comfort near the many keys and buttons on his ship.

“Sylazide, I told you to be careful around the interface!” Oxide yelped, grabbing onto some of the cans to hold them away, swiftly setting them aside on the ground.

“I know, that’s why I’m using my telekinesis this time around!” They responded, smirking. “So, what’s up? I know I usually don’t ask, but there’s gotta be something going on if you get this reclusive sometimes. You usually wouldn’t have the patience for just sitting around.”

That admittedly caught him off-guard, he was used to how things usually went within the confines of his ship, he didn’t expect it to be put into question. “Do you not have anything else to do?”

“Par, you’re not going to shrug me off that easily.”

“I wasn’t trying to. It was a legitimate question.”

“Don’t you mean a legitimate---”

“I know where you’re going with that, Sylazide! Your puns aren’t my point here!”

“Sure they aren’t~. But no, I’m not occupied with anything. Checking the internet can wait, not like I’m going to miss some big event within the hour. Unless it’s like that one bit of audio from an old game that people were cracking jokes about for a few minutes before it got swept under the rug.”

The older insectoid merely gave his spawn a confused stare.

Shrugging, Sylazide continued speaking. “Besides, I’m here already, so I might as well do a different sort of humouring.”

“If you insist.” He responded. Not that he didn’t want to talk with them, he couldn’t bring himself to push away his offspring, but the thoughts that coursed through his mind were already heavy enough on their own, explaining it to them wouldn’t be the easiest.

Sure, as much as they joked, they knew life was complicated, intimidating even, their jokes were to cope with their insecurities. But he never spoke of Gasmoxia in-depth with them, they were raised off of his home planet, with what he saw was fair reason to do so, and that only brought concern, if his home world already caused him emotional strife, what effect would that have on them.

But they insisted, and a Nitros couldn’t leave anything be sometimes, even if they really should.

He pondered over how to really start an explanation on what burdened his mind so often, slightly looking past them obviously waiting for him to get a hold of his words. They had patience, they knew Oxide wasn’t the greatest at explaining himself, whether it be his motives or something much more personal.

“Well...Tell me, Sylazide, do you think about Gasmoxia sometimes?”

They expression shifted more into surprise, as they hadn’t anticipated that. “Eh, sometimes.” They responded, very much forcing a neutral tone. “Hard not to think about it, y’know?”

He nodded in agreement. “There’s a lot to think about concerning it.”

“I mean, you are the Prince, Par. You’ve been in hiding from that sorta business for years, tossing aside global responsibility---”

“You don’t need to rub it in!”

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you, the wounds already plenty salty as is~. But you get where I’m going, right? You had a whole sort of different life on Gasmoxia, and you ran away from that for something much more mundane.”

“To be somewhere I can never really belong?” He spotted his nymph turn their gaze downwards, at a loss for words at that statement. “I could never be an Earthling, my fate resides in my home planet.” While he was a unique sort of entity on his home world, at least he had some sort of place.

The younger insectoid clearly had a reply they wanted to speak out about, but decided to say something else. “Are you not happy with what you have on Earth? Sure we can’t really leave these islands, you don’t even have a bed, but you don’t think life here is terrible, do you?”

“Personally I find a vast majority of things on this planet vile, food and certain people aside, of course. However, it goes deeper than personal opinion. My role on Gasmoxia seems simple, I was a royal since my hatching and nothing could dispute that, but there are details that make it more complex.”

“You going to explain it to me then?” They knew they were of royal blood, but that was the extent of it.

“I suppose I can. You said you were going to stick by regardless, and I suppose it is important you hear this. It is a fairly long tale, you could imagine summarizing events from many generations earlier would be lengthy.”

“What does any amount of centuries before now have to do with this?”

“Context, Sylazide. Very important context.” A deep breath traveled through his snout, needing a moment to process that he was really going to discuss this of all topics, but this history was vital, especially if he would ever return home with them. 

His nymph proceeded to hover slightly in the air using their wings, knowing they would grow very tired of standing. Their proud parent could go on for a long time with speeches of any sort.

“Our grand history begins with, er, the very beginning. Back when Gasmoxia wasn’t even referred to by name. It existed, but was essentially a floating rock, that is, until a group of explorers wandered onto it. Almost all of their names had never been printed, but one of them was identified as an insectoid named Xylitol. Xylitol wasn’t the leader, they were said to have been very ambitious, but they were merely regarded as a runt among these wanderers.

Meeting upon meeting, this group discussed if they would claim their planet as their own, a new society for them to construct and understand. As the days continued, so did their progress, and so did the disregard of Xylitol. They were overcome with fury, done with being pushed around, even as they had demonstrated they had the skills of an equal. 

Utilizing their wits, they came up with a plan to be rid of all of their group. They had promised that they would build statues dedicated to them all, once their first city had been finished and word was spread about their civilization. Technically, they did keep their promise, because once was all said and done, they built a statue for themselves, heheheh.”

“Really, Par, you have to put in the dark humour? Classy. I thought this was serious.” 

“It is, I simply thought it was amusing.”

“I think it’s more funny you couldn’t help yourself from laughing from that.”

“Like you’re no better, you laugh at the fact that you can get away with crimes!”

“Cuz no one can prove a telekinetic did anything wrong!”

They both were quiet for a full second before chuckling, a rare sight to see from Nitros Oxide himself. Though his laughter was a lot more wheezy and brief, but it was still a pleasant break from the story.

“Continuing on, Xylitol’s life soon took an interesting change immediately after the betrayal. No one knows how, but they became something much more than a short-statured settler. Their power increased and they had become one with the planet they now inhabited. Their body even became more ethereal as they had become part of the air itself.

In dedication to the dense fogginess of the atmosphere, they had named the planet Gasmoxia, and it would present itself with a new identity to any would-be citizens - The Smog, the almighty overseer.”

“Hm. So that’s how it got it’s name.” The smaller one uttered with intrigue. “And that’s what you keep referencing when you get all rustled.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you get all disgruntled at something minor, you huff and go ‘Smog why’ or better yet, ‘Smog dammit, why is My Queen like this!’.”

“Nitros Sylazide, that last one doesn’t need repeating!”

“I was making a point, you can forgive me just this once.”

“Ugh, fine. But you are correct with your observation.The Smog has been a higher power for a long time, it’s only natural that just became a part of my speech.”

“So it’s a deity?”

“Indeed, it usually refers to itself as ‘overseer’ specifically because that is what it’s considered it’s role as, observing all of the activity on it’s world. It doesn’t pride itself on force and no one knows if it can even terraform.”

“Let me guess, it just got others to do it’s bidding for it knows how many millennia?” 

He nodded. Their statement hit the nail on the head, but not in the way they might’ve known.

“Does this have anything to do on why our exact race is called ‘Smog’s Children’?”

Never mind, they seemed to have caught on quicker than he imagined. “Yes, it does. I was just getting to that.”

“For a long while, The Smog was content with the progression of it’s world. While not every inch of ground had been covered on it yet, it’s culture was developing, The Smog had a fair bit of followers, those willing to listen to it’s ‘survival of the fittest’ ideals that were shaped by the events prior to it’s ascension. 

Some time later though, many were less willing to follow it’s instructions. It’s words were losing it’s weight, it was livid at the ultimatum that they needed a leader not a deity.

It retaliated, without violence, but with creation. It bestowed upon the world a new creature, one among them that would lead. This new entity was the first Smog’s Child, an insectoid built in it’s image, Queen Nitros Phosphine. Them being identified as a queen was an oddity, there was no established monarchy, but The Smog willed this addition to their culture.

And it worked, Phosphine was a great leader, they figured how their growing society would integrate with the natural forces of Gasmoxia, working with what they were given, and building a strong culture from it.”

The nymph raised their hand up, back to standing on their legs. They didn’t want to interrupt their parent, as they caught him looking proud when describing the origins of his lineage. 

He swiftly raised an eyebrow at them, “What is it now?”

“The Smog created us? Would that make us demigods?”

“... Good question. We are directly connected with a deity, after all. But I’m sure you aren’t the first to think of such a thing, so perhaps we aren’t to be classified as such. Perhaps being given authority on a silver platter is already enough.”

They nodded, “Not to mention the power and pompousness that comes with the distinction of royalty, that’ll get the point across just fine.” They paused for a moment, pondering on what else to bring up. Yet, the more they pondered about it, the more their expression dropped.

Their change in vibe didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing, Par. It’s just... I think I’m beginning to understand why this would be a big deal. We were made for something big, guiding an entire world, but you’re in hiding, and no one there even knows I exist, save for Grandpar Glyccy and Lithium.”

It didn’t take long for Oxide to become quite somber at that note as well, gripping onto his arm, his fingers squirming slightly. Once more they were on the point, that was mostly what stressed him out. Even if it understandably was a lot to take in, it was hard to witness his own spawn in such a defeated state. It wasn’t what he wanted, they were a lively sort to combat this pressure, but it had struck.

They had grown quiet, evidently he had to be the one to break the silence. “I... wouldn’t get so down about you being raised here. That does not have to be a bad thing. Besides, you come with a lot more than Earth-based experiences, and those do not have to be bad things either.”

They sighed, shifting their gaze to him. “I wasn’t expecting you to try to be the optimist of the two of us. But I get what you’re trying to say, that there’s not much I can really do. Besides, can you imagine me growing up in a palace?” They giggled, elbowing one of their parent’s hind legs. “Thanks for trying to help though, I know it ain’t what you do usually, but you put your best foot forward.”

Seeing his grimace at the joke could only indicate that the mood went back to normal.

“Are you going to tell me more? Despite the mood drop, this has been kinda fulfilling in some way, learning about where my family comes from.”

“I can.” He was unsure if he really wished to continue, the bleaker subjects were hard to avoid. A part of him wanted to continue, because in spite of the other problems that came up in the lineage’s history, he felt the same bizarre eagerness. 

There was also the fact that Sylazide’s self as an alien was just as important as their self as one raised on Earth, or so he thought, albeit subconsciously. “But how about we have a brief moment to ourselves. Do whatever it is you do for a while.” He lifted up one of the cans of caffeinated drinks to his trunk, opening it and flickering his snake-like tongue near it.

“Alright, but I’ll be back. Your non-specific amount of time won’t shoo me away forever.” They joked, before skittering off.

[willard-writes]

To Win/To Lose, An Oxide Drabble

(( oh boy, I had this idea in my head for a while and finally got to writing it because like with all writings, the start of it just nags at me, before I get to doing it. This is something that happens just a bit prior to the events of CTR, our favourite Salty Mantis just only recently taking out Mars and the start of planning his attack on Earth. ))

(( Now this explores one little idea that I had thought of, that yes Mars lead up to the fact that he doesn’t have wings like the rest of his family does, because he lost them during his attack on it. I soon realized that he’s also missing his little pipe implants here, so he likely puts that within himself while he’s preparing his visit to Earth. But for now, this drabble is just on one scene.))

(( like most of the time, I just write as I go, which resulted in some emotion peeking out from Glycerin, because I couldn’t help myself, she was only to be brief, but like idk he needed something to bounce off his inner conflict. Oxide just wants to be great, he wants to be the best like he should be, he can’t sit idly by to let Mars just pass over to never be brought up again, to him to seem pathetic. ))

Within one magnificent chamber in the royal Gasmoxian palace, there was a soft tapping from multiple legs, swift arm movements whipping against the air. The sun shined through the windows and curtains, the slightly sickly light covering Prince Oxide, as he sat on a chair, comfortable at his work desk. His hands moved through multiple projected screens, his eyes quickly studying all of them.

His movements was near obsessive, routine even, with how he went through one page to the other on all of the screens. It stressed him to no end, seeing everything he was reading. The combination of all of the news following his triumph on Mars, and his injury. The masses were clamouring that the spoiled little nymph actually had some nerve to him, to go after an entire planet and wipe them out of existence, rendering that world nothing but a faded memory to some and a complete mystery to others across the galaxy.

Though he was satisfied to finally hear some praise towards him, it put a lot of pressure, that he needed to keep being what his subjects wanted, otherwise it would be back to being bullied, to being seen as a weakling, an error in the lineage, the symbol of the downward spiral of the almighty monarchy. For minutes after waking up from his sleep, he was wanting to confirm which planet could be his next target, which civilization was worth wasting to prove that he was a Nitros through and through. What world could be his next statement to everyone who underestimate him?

He felt his nerves catching up to him, as he realized that he needed a moment before he came to his decision. Using his hind legs to move him away from his desk, his back arched slightly, before he realized the rest of his body wasn't being lifted with it. There was some hesitation in his body, before his trunk drooped down and he surrendered to gripping onto whatever was nearby and standing up, using a front leg to somberly kick his seat back into place. He reached a lanky hand over to behind him, feeling his upper back, whimpering, knowing that his garb still had the space in it designed for his wings to fit through - his wings that were no more, leaving four scars against his exoskeleton.

While he had intended to do something to occupy his mind, instead he froze, the events from the past weeks flying past his mind. Him going through the best racers Mars could muster, him claiming victory over them all, him tearing through whatever was in it's atmosphere, falling debris closing in on him, the suffering within his voice as he called for an emergency crew, seeing his parent's face as his wings were deemed damaged, non-functioning, unable to be repaired, and needing to be amputated, before the memories concluded with the agony that followed while he was recovering.

A whimper coursed through his trunk, lifting it up slightly, before being broken out of his state as he heard a door slamming behind him. Who was invading his quarters? It had to be Glycerin.

"Oxy, how ya doin'---- what are you doin' out of bed!! I know your legs weren't hurt, not too much anyways, but ya shouldn't be up and at 'em!" Her shrill voice shrieked, before she skittered over and hugged him, the prince slowly turning his body to face his parent.

"My Queen, I couldn't stay in bed forever. I'd get impatient. Besides, I have to face my people some day."

"Yeah but you were just given the okay that you should even be allowed to be without an attendant or some shit like that! Even then they mentioned it would still be hard adjustin' to... that."

He looked down from her, but she soon lifted up his head.

"But it's nice to see ya, Oxy, ya got more strength than most people suspect, the fact that you can be this absolutely stubborn, it's kinda remarkable! I'm just glad you're okay! But you're still gonna take it easy right?"

The heir sighed, motioning over to his desk and computer station. "Everyone across the planet and galaxy has been amazed at what I had done. They are in awe that this isn't a fluke that I could accomplish this, given that I'm not as tough as my ancestors, the deconstruction of everything Mars had established was something none had suspected, my gamble being anything less than calculated."

"That's great to hear! I know all you wanted was to be acknowledged as something greater than just a nymph clinging to his queen's leg!"

He nodded. "That's why I can't disappoint them."

"What do ya mean? If it's about you not having your wings anymore, don't worry about that! Methane couldn't fly, and they were the most revered of Queens in the modern age! You got a lot more recognizable traits that prove you are one of the creepy crawly royals!"

"... It's not that. I need to keep up my winning streak, I need to defeat another planet."

The taller insectoid dropped her arms suddenly, gazing at him in shock. "Oh no, ya gotta be pulling my legs, Oxy! I mean, I know you usually don't joke about this, and I know you just pass me off as your overbearing parent, but you can't!"

"Well, technically I could---"

"Technically ya shouldn't! I love you more than anything, and I encourage what you do with your skills, but just beecause I can be reckless doesn't mean you should be too! I was on a power-trip when I attacked Bysala, and ya know what happened!" Her usually cheerful voice took a turn that made her deep worries obvious. "Hell, even if this ain't a power-trip, you just want to keep a positive light on you, you're still not in the right mind to do so! You're still in distress over what happened, and I can tell!"

"If I was still upset over my injury, then why have I got up to move on?"

"As I said, you're stubborn!"

There was a brief flick of his snout, as he pouted. She knew what he had wanted, she knew his reasons, and they both knew that the other's judgement could be a little clouded at times. But he had to move on from Mars, he had to keep going, he had to only be successful from this point forward.

"I'm sorry, I... don't mean to snap at you. But the moment I took my eyes off you, only for the next time to see your wings a complete mess, how could I not worry about the next time you leave?"

He didn't know how to respond. Seeing her in a vulnerable state was different. But a part of his mind couldn't be swayed. "I'll be fine. You endured a lot, and you're still around, so why can't the same be for me? I'm not a fighter, but I'm still your offspring. I'm sorry, My Queen, but I need to keep showing that I'm not a joke. I need to show that I'm capable, and the only way I can do that is to repeat my success." He awkwardly embraced her. "I won't come back a failure. I refuse to."

"I just want you to come back, full stop." Oh how that sentence would sting later down the road. "... But I really can't stop you, so I will just trust in you. All I can do is support you, my little nymph." She tried to raise her voice back into her usual joyous tone. "Alright, so what's the plan, Oxy?"

He soon moved his arms away from her, bolting towards his desk, neatly placing himself back on the seat. "Well, I've been looking into terraforming. I figured 'why waste a world?'. Mars, no one would miss. But another planet, perhaps using it to serve every other lifeform would really do a lot to up the ante, and therefore, further my reputation."

The queen nodded, listening to his scheme. Even if she didn't want him to do this, it was incredible what his mind thought of in an instant, how clever he was.

"And I know just the little planet to utilize for this scheme~." He chirped, motioning towards a picture of a planet identified as 'Earth'.

[willard-writes]

Smog Ponders, a Xylitol Drabble

< Yo yo, Muno here again. Been a while since I wrote something, but for a while I was focused on my Bean roleplaying and inspiration for some stuff didn’t really click. But this time I felt something, due to imagery in my head. Simply put I was thinking about the movement of the physical state of the Gasmoxian deity, The Smog, and I just sort of ran with it. >

< This is more or less like a free-form first person writing, I just typed as I went. Also feat. even more characters, Glycerin’s trio of hybrid spawn, Lithium, Citric, and Chlorine. To sum that up shortly, Lithium is the eldest, the only one that is of two Gasmoxian species, and is very much the warrior out of all their half-siblings. Citric is the middle child, half bug half human, all arrogance. And Chlorine’s the only one that is truly an optimist, the bubbly type, considering well they are half something completely opposite to Gasmoxia entirely. >

Divine intervention, a construct of mortals that I've always found myself intrigued with, the concept of one so powerful that looms among all life needing to interfere with the affairs of others. It is interesting to me, because I have so much power, yet one thing I've loved doing this past little while is just watching chain reactions upon chain reactions, imagining the possibilities yet to come, yet I need not lift a finger. What can I say, the royals that I created are just so perfect, they give our beloved universe more than enough to work with. If there was anything that I could credit that dear sweet voice within the back of my conscious with, it's that their life brought so much dismay, only to lead into the joy that was Glycerin III.

But alas, sometimes watching is not just quite enough, I wish to truly observe, to truly see the wonders within the walls of the luxurious palace that has been maintained for many thrilling centuries, and when I wish something, when I am so deserving, I will get it. It's not like it is at all difficult, to break a fragment of my smoggy essence and look from the point of view of my distorted visage. The process is not difficult, neither is getting used to travelling on my four legs, the lack of any heartbeats coursing through me as my upper pair of arms proudly positioned themselves behind my back. Anything past the physical aspect is not any hindrance either, as much as a spectacle as it would be to see the overseer roaming around, it is exceptionally easy for me to do my act of slipping into the castle, completely unnoticed. Anyone who sees one of my eyes glancing in their direction knows to look the other way regardless.

No matter how glamorous the royal building is, the cutesy decor doesn't even flinch as I pass it by, my steps silent, not a single tremble in my lower-heavy build. I feel absolutely light on my feet, actually, as I start climbing the stairs, all my eyes going in different directions, catching glimpses and taking notes of every little thing. Losing myself to the little bits of souls within me having their own remarks on the matter, I soon found myself at the highest floor of the palace, the location of the queen's quarters herself. I consider entering, but she seemed occupied enough, the sounds of chittering and clicks from what I presume is another sleepless night for Glycerin, wasting away to the bright lights of television. I cannot say I particularly envy her state of temporary bliss and numbness, filling her life with as much as she can to shove aside any sorrow, her swarm not being the only thing that eats away at her.

I would speak to her, encourage her to bring Oxide home, but she doubts I even exist. Besides, I can just do that on my own, she's done so much already with letting his co-ordinates be known, his presence still lingering as he wants to keep up with what is going on in his planet that he should rule. He's stubborn though, I don't think I could bring him here and establish any sort of my own mark on planet Earth, his spawn wouldn't do me any good for giving my being some sort of leeway or territory onto that planet. How hard it is for a god to ease it's way into conquering a world with it's own four hands and one hell of a silver tongue? Maybe Citric could be of use for that, they seem particular naive, wanting, and foolish... like a human should be.

Oh, right, I almost forgot about my reason for lingering around here, the other chain reactions. Softly skittering my way down to the penultimate floor, the guest rooms for those that the queen likes to keep close, I twist my head around, just to check if there is anyone nearby. No guards, nor one particularly sneaky mantidfly. Lithium is an everyday sight though, I am more interested in the visitor, slinking my way to another door, disappearing into nothing before materializing in the room's interior.

I can't help but absentmindedly smile as I look around the room. Very well kept, but not unexpected, just different. This very certain guest very much liked to keep things tidy, even when there were maids at their service, they would rather keep things very convinient and simple, or maybe it was just a habit that is already well into their natural life. Or both, both is plausible, as well as very fitting. One of my lower hands gripped onto the end of the bed, my upper eyes looking at the being way up ahead, small and snug underneath the blanket. Odd, seeing little Chlorine without their eyepatch, but their other eye could close just fine. What a peculiar thing that was, that every tiny thing in their other eye was completely intact, but just nonfunctioning, but it can't be helped, life is a miracle, but defects and disturbances are even more so.

My curiosity continuing to be very piqued, I took some steps closer to the comfortable half-nymph, and in an instant, their eyes shot open, staring at me as their mouth opened in wonder, two sharp fangs very much visible, but not giving the vibe of hostility. I thought about staying to chat with them, hearing this small voice ask what I was, presumably already too eager to know more about what lied beneath this half of their heritage, but to keep them wanting answers, I covered Chlorine's functioning eye, merely chuckling as I turned into nothing once more, the black mist covering up their vision as I fled, gone in the blink of an eye. This was for the best, or so I thought, there was potential for a lot, if Chlorine went around asking their genetic family about me, the tale of the Almighty Smog itself.

I considered doing another round of the palace before retreating back into the planet's atmosphere, but as my visible being came together, I heard something drag itself across the ground nearby. shifting it's weight slightly. Not moving from my position, my head turned in place, craning a bit to get a better look. It was Lithium, somehow awake, their red slit-like pupils glaring at me, exposing their sharp teeth beneath their beak. Now that was the aggression I had very much avoided.

Turning my body, thinking about how they were much more wise than their younger siblings, I had expected to hopefully have a word with them, but they charged at me immediately, their curved sword stabbing right through me. I didn't flinch, merely holding up all my arms.

"Sorry, I mean no trouble, dearest Lithium. You've become so capable, perfect for the enforcer in a family of twig-like bugs. But you were made for fighting, were you not? Well, figuratively speaking, of course. I'm impressed that you didn't think of holding back."

"..."

"You can respond to me, we're family, no? You know about your guardian deity, yet you immediately aren't very keen on me. You never came across to me as a heretic type."

"..."

"Please, remove your blade, I don't want my nothingness affecting such a fine weapon. Was it crafted just for you?"

Yet, they continued to stay unresponsive as they backed off, the blade of their weapon retreating into the hilt. They just continued to glare at me as their four legs scraped against the ground. Finally, they said something. "Keep quiet. You want your subjects to not associate their deity as some nighttime nuisance? If not, then keep quiet." They finally turned their head as they went back to their room.

Oh, if only you understood diplomacy, Lithium. Very unbecoming of a substitute prince, to be so strong, yet so silent. Oh well, if that was my cue to bid adieu, then so be it.

[willard-writes]

BEES, a Glycerin Drabble

< You know what it is. Yet again, the Glycerin train is going, but this is about when she discovered she’s got her iconic parasites. On her first RP blog, I did expand the situation on what happened, but it does get summed in this, so have no fear! >

< you could tell I started to stop feeling it at one point. But I was determined, FOR THE LORE! besides, I like depicting Gasmoxia as a more living and breathing land with various minor characters.>

Waking up from a deep sleep is always a disorienting experience, to gather one's bearings in an instant. Most of the time it's not so bad, waking up in a comfortable bed and realizing one is in their room, but what if the aspect of familiarity was taken away? Sounds of beeping, people speaking, machines whirring, all echoing around one entity.

A low growl travelled through the trunk of a certain insectoid monarch, her albino body still shining brightly, even when against a pale mattress. For a moment, her body felt light, as she opened her eyes and looked in her surroundings, noticing she was in a large pod of sorts, dressed only in leggings that were tight around the segmented part of her legs, and leaving most of her body exposed. As she continued to lay and ponder, a different feeling came into her body. Discomfort. First, she shrugged it off as just her body crushing her wings beneath, but it started to get more uncomfortable... and then it started to hurt. Really badly.

Her body thrashed around, before someone nearby realized she was awake and in agony. A nurse swiftly pressed a button, resulting in something within the pod to shoot some sort of powder, slowing her movements and numbing her body. They apologized, immediately bowing their head. "We weren't expecting you to awaken so suddenly. Doctor Tizanidine thought you'd be pretty out of it for longer, at least a week! We noticed your body was already being launched into activity in only a day, but to recover from such an attack after two days? Well, Tizanidine did say you always were a fighter, Queen Glycerin."

"... Wait, what the fuck is going on?" Her voice sounded rather weak, but she clearly wasn't going to just be quiet. She needed answers. Though, there was an odd buzz-like sound, subtle, but there.

"Oh, oh, sorry, you are probably confused! My name is Eskatamine, I've been assisting with watching over your very swift progress. You were brought in by some guards, they said you passed out on planet Bysala. They were worried that you got into quite the gruesome fight and---"

"Hold on, Bysala? Right, they had that whole declaration of enemyship junk. Not my fault I wasn't going to pay them to be allies just because it's what Cellulose did."

"So you attacked them?"

"Yeah. Assembled an army, and attacked, directly in all their capitals. They were all weak, thinkin' they can just overwhelm us with the amount of bodyguards, but they failed. Pitiful. Some leaders surrendered, some were murdered by me. I remember our last target surrendered, actin' real sweet. He wanted us to all get along, nothin’ bad had to happen!"

"Really? Well, besides for being amazed that you recklessly attacked all of them head-on, there might be a contradiction. The guards said, besides for your collapsed body, there was a broken urn, and that leader dead, covered in his own blood, looking like he was pierced by a thousand needles. Sort of like your hand."

Although it took a moment, Glycerin looked over to her hand, and there were a couple of marks and scratches across it. She was wearing armoured gloves at the time of her attack, how did this happen? The more she lingered onto the nurse's words, she recalled what happened, and every little noise when silent, except for this immense, muffled buzzing.

"It's funny," they added on, "most of the exterior of your body seems fine, no real wounds that pierced your exoskeleton. All of the damage is, well internal."

It took a while for the insectoid to respond, but after one deep breath, her eyes looked back to the other. "Dare I ask what you mean by 'damage' and 'internal'."

"Your Highness, are you sure you want to deal with this now? I don't want to be the bringer of bad news, and you just woke up, and the doctor isn't even---"

"I am your ruler, and you will tell me about a potential hinderance."

"Youhaveparasites!"

"... Pardon?"

"Uh, okay, this isn't easy to explain, but someone did some research and there's this rare Bysalian bug species, khalshari, that almost overwhelmed the planet years ago. The only handfull that were ever captured were kept in an urn, being kept in a low-maintenance state, clinging by a thread to life. One of the leaders has said in an interview that he was keeping them in case research progressed that would tame them, and they would no longer be a threat, but...."

"This has got to be some bullshit."

"Unfortunately, it is not, Your Highness." They brought over a screen, showing an inside view of the queen. Eskatamine proceeded with speaking, giving it only a second for Glycerin to glance at it. "They have already got to work with effectively turning your body into their hive. The doctor says this will probably do some long-term damage to you over time, since I don't think your tissue or organs could recover from whatever it is they are doing. Though, they do seem in-tune with the activity in your brain, which I don't understand, but only time will tell if that's a concern."

The mantis-like alien stared into the distance, completely baffled by the situation. A swarm of pests were going to ruin her, internally. To call it a hinderance is still putting it lightly. She had a planet to rule, she couldn't let herself be brought down by this. "Can't you get rid of them?"

"As I said, they've already got to work with your innards, living and thriving once more. They probably haven't got to have something like this for a while, a new chance at life - though I now just realize you probably don't want to hear that. You probably realize at the cost of them not withering away is going to be your well-being. My apologies, Your Highness."

She sighed, thinking of what she was going to do about this. What if she died? She was just a young adult, and she already felt like she lost it all. No, this couldn't be the end of her legacy! She was going to make sure of it! There was one thing, one permanent thing that would be sure that the Nitros dynasty didn't wither. "Have they done any damage to my egg sac?"

"Uhm, I don't think so. They've tried to puncture it a couple times, I think, but haven't got through or even touched your egg." They took a moment to ponder over her question. "I don't try to get myself involved in the more political side of serving you, and right now you are sedated, maybe even a bit in a state of panic, given the circumstances, aren't able to think clearly... but it would be my professional opinion that now is your best shot to produce an heir. We don't know what this could do to you, after all."

"Good to see someone is thinking around here. Now let me out of this pod."

"I don't have permission to do that."

'C'mooooooooooon."

"You're sedated, you'll end up tumbling out. Not only that, but the pain will come back."

"Then I gotta work through it. You said this is probably my best chance at producing an heir, and you're right."

"P-Please don't put this on me, I don't think anyone will improve of me encouraging you!"

"Then they don't got to know of your involvement. Just shrug it off as a Nitros taking initiative."

"Your Highness, please, you must rest. You shouldn't be conscience right now, you probably haven't even ate for a while."

"... But what if I do eat? Will you let me go then? I might feel better."

Eskatamine sighed loudly. "Fine, fine, just come to me should you be writhing in agony because you shouldn't be out already, alright?."

"Thank you! You must understand, right? Not only do I hold absolute power, but I need to hold onto this power, until it gets passed on, so Gasmoxia doesn't fall to anarchy."

"Can't say I do, but you make it clear I don't have a choice."

"That's right~!" Glycerin chirped. Ready to sustain herself so she could give her lack of family a backup plan, her hand shakily jolted upwards, when suddenly a handful of parasites shot out from her hand, breaking through her flesh. Her shrieking was luckily not powerful enough to break the glass of the pod, and neither was the currently small swarm, and they soon retreated back into their new hive, to restore their power. Leaving the monarch to twitch erractically, every part of her aching.

The nurse walked over to the pod, pressing the button for the numbing powder, watching their leader's body calm down once again. "Do you want to delay on your plans now?"

"just a little." She whispered in response.

"I'll go get you some food, maybe that will lessen the pain. I'm sure the staff has probably been a little bored anyways." They soon rushed off, unsure if they wanted to deal with her for too much longer. They didn't even know how they were dragged into this, damn their superior for not being here this one time! Not to say they didn't feel sympathy for her though, she was panicked, but that was more reason why they shouldn't listen to her impulsive thoughts.

Glycerin was still and quiet for a while, her sounds of breathing intermixed with an echoing buzzing of some insects that also needed to get to work. This was a turn of events, for each and every one of them, and she had to deal with it. There was so much to ponder, what was going to happen to her? What was going to happen to her rule? What was---wait, forget that thought, she just realized she could shoot little stinging creatures out of her hands. Okay, this was a little fuckin' cool.

[willard-writes]

Royal Duties, a Glycerin Drabble

< Hi hi, Muno here again. Recently my mental state has been acting up, so I decided to put that to use by vibrating onto a keyboard, and there we got a writing, this one exploring Nitros Glycerin as the new queen of Gasmoxia, prior to the existence of our lovely Salty Mantis.

The background to this is that she murdered her queen, Nitros Cellulose, to usurp the throne, and having to deal with the needs of her citizens, while she can still do so before impulse control disappeared, because this is also prior to her parasites. >

It was practically unbearable, waiting for the wave of demanding citizens to dissipate. Glycerin, the new queen of Gasmoxia at only age 270, stretching out her trunk as she yawned and slinked out of her bed. She skittered around her quarters, rubbing her eyes with her bare, sharp fingers, as she could hear the chittering outside. Frustrated, she pushed a button on her wall to close all windows, shutting out the noise, so she could have some peace. Last thing she needed was to hear muffled gossip while she got on her royal garb, slithering her hands against the fancy dress as she looked at herself. So many still shouted about the death of Cellulose, much to her dismay, and yet here she was, resembling them.

Upon wandering out of her quarters, it didn't take long until she was bombarded by others needing her attention. She brought her long wings close against her body as guards went to push people off, as they pleaded to bargain with her, it was 'important', they needed someone to capture Cellulose's likeness so they could build their effigy, considering their death was quite unexpected. Sighing, Glycerin agreed, because while yes she didn't want to entertain the mere thought of honouring her late parent, she knew she still had responsibilites as the monarch, ... and she really didn't want anyone to assume that she was their assassin, (even if that already had become quite the uncommon theory).

The new queen was practically dragged around, rushing through to a long open temple where The Smog and It's children were honoured, having to keep up with the anxious workers, seeing their faces as they tried to ease their worries, gazing over to the statues of royals of the past. For a moment, even Glycerin herself was in awe and she realized she was carrying on a legacy one of glory and leading her planet to victory... but would they be proud of her act of treachery? Eh who cares, she thought, all these fuckers are dead.

There were already a couple of smaller beings gathered, positioning the various material needed to get to sculpting, wanting to get everything perfect, as the sun cursed them with it's overbearing light and the wind caused some dust to pass them by, directing all the workers attention towards Glycerin. They asked for her to do a simple act, tell them about how Cellulose was, and how they would want to be remembered. For a moment, the new queen froze up, thinking about how she could ruin this, by crushing their dreams of how she saw her parent, but as more dust went by, all eyes were on her, causing her to feel some sort of pressure, as if being a queen meant she had to surrender her true thoughts, just to give her citizens some peace of mind and being and she brought her hands close together, as she proceeded.

Glycerin stood, spreading out her large wings, her posture brimming with authority, her voice softening in tone as she spoke, rambling on about the old queen's life, it beginning and ending in tragedy, but inbetween that, was a monarch that pushed order onto dystopia, with their strong conviction in their actions, and belief of the greater good.

For a while, many gazed at her, their ability to speak being taken from them, amazed that the prince that got through childhood shouting at everyone, could channel the one they mourned and wanted to see once more, hoping that there was some peace within Glycerin's self, that she could have some sense to be what they wanted to see.

Eventually they dismissed her, letting her go back to her own life, which unfortunately included this internal screaming, the new monarch distressed she had to even do that, thinking that Cellulose didn't deserve her respect, even if they were dead, and now their rule was going to be forever remembered their so-called kindness immortalized in hard stone,

and she was going to be held against that, she was carrying on that legacy, after all.