#also me making a mechsona

[stars-are-shining-bright]

Hc that when the mechanisms were in The City, Drumbot Brian became Apollo's lover and then faked his death when they were leaving. That's where he got his gift of prophecy

#the mechanisms #drumbot brian #which lover was brian? your choice. i don't know much about apollo's lovers #this thought was sponsored by my online name being apollo #also me making a mechsona #i wanted to make them related to apollo in some way #so i went #hey lets make him one of Apollo's lovers #oh wait #don't they get prophecy #brian also has prophecy #what if Brian was Apollo's lover instead

[miralines]

I’ve just made a spreadsheet and done the math

Apparently I have almost 16k words of unfinished, unpublished mechs fic between 9 wips

with roughly another 40k planned should I finish all of them and they turn out the expected length

I did these calculations instead of working on any of them

#that's not counting the genuinely excessive word count of my doc that's just little mechsona stories either #someone either stop me or make me finish some of these #anyway it's 1:30 am and i haven't decided yet if I'm going to actually write more or go to bed #(OH that's also not counting the 5.5k additional words I anticipate for my song challege fic)

[bloodbot-brian]

11, 12, 16, 19 + 21 for the mechs ask game 🔫

11: my joints! My old mechsona had a mechanised spine and elbows which connected to elbow crutches, which I still think was a genius idea!

12: I really like jonny/Brian and raph/Marius ^_^!! They’re so cutie

16: hmm I like when I hear the ashes’ bass! Heavy music is so <33 so hearing that when it’s deep (like at the drop in underworld blues) is so cool! Also Brian’s drums (especially in no happy ending)

19: jonny… I love her and need to be her actually! Also Marius and Brian (must become bear like them must become)

21: physically disabled mechs! They’re all so disabled coded and eeekkk!!! Them using mobility aids makes me so happy!!!!!

#bear hrowls #the mechs #the mechs ask game #mechs ask game #I can’t remember which tag it is

[linafication]

oh & just sayin if y’all ever wanna ask me about any of my ocs PLEASE do I absolutely adore talking about them :D :D

#oh lemme actually list all my ocs in the tags here shdjsjgj #(these aren’t all my ocs they’re just the ones off the top of my head djfjdjf) #for the marionette quintet story: melody wei. daisy chavez. sean casmyn. francesca green. red. yellow. green. blue. gray #for my drumbot brian backstory fic: niko & lindi #also of course haricot heretic <3 #I also wanna make a mechsona!! #oh & im starting a story thing about. summer camp cosmic horror.. but that’s still in the very much early stages of existence <3 #anyways please ask me about my ocs :} #thank you for coming to my lina talk

[horngryeyes]

i need to get my sewing brain going because i have a project with a deadline thats coming at me vaguely but swiftly and i need motivation to do it

#girlboss of me to get a table for sewing and become a "''costume designer'''' for my friends project and then suddenly loose all #motivation for sewijg #thankfully it got postponed because it had outside scenes that wouldnt work in winter #but spring is approaching so . yeah #might also making a mechsona vest while im at it. or maybe pushing my genderbent raph cosplay idea forward #dont expect anything though god bless #first i think im gonna try making a kitty ears headband bc its easy #and i have catboy diesease

[totopopopo]

Bro hit me UP with your mechsona 😳

😳😳 more ppl replied to that post than I thought asking me to talk abt her SOOO okay I will asdjfhdksk

My ~mechsona~ aka the character I created based on the Mechanisms is a “young” woman-adjacent (gender has no real meaning here) person who goes by the name of Israel “Theo” Godkiller, though what her real name is, she refuses to say. She won’t say much of anything when asked about herself, except to claim that she once killed God Himself and took His name for good measure. She’s human, or at least mostly human, all except for her ribcage and a part of her hip, both of which have been replaced with uranium. Each uranium rib is heavy, and strong, and faintly radioactive (Although, truth be told, it is not entirely clear how faint that really is. At any rate, don’t stand too near for too long.) If pressed on how she lost the originals, she’ll only reply that God fights dirty (but that she fights dirtier). On the ship, she serves as the Chaplain, whatever that means when the rest of the crew is comprised of godless and immortal murderers, renegades, liars, and thieves. Then again, maybe that suits her style.

There’s more but I’ll leave it at that, and also I’ll include the sketch where I was figuring out what cloths and color schemes are. Thank u for letting me infodump!

#the mechanisms #mechsona #sjhfhfsjjfkfkd idk bro i like creating original characters and i love seeing other ppl make mechs inspired charscters so i HAD to join #also to be super super clear i’m taking the name israel from the torah genesis 32 when jacob fights a god and is renamed israel #israel means fights with god and jacob was named that to honor him after he won a figjt against god / an angel of the lord #my naming her israel is simply a jewish person using my own religious mythologies which are important to me #its not an endorsement of .. the country its a Hebrew Name which im using as a Jewish Person #k anyways just had to add thst disclamer #israel theo godkiller

[delilah-briarwood]

Mechsona of Dahlia Wyrick.  Her mechanisms consist partially of her face and her bones.

#The mechanisms #the mechs #mechsona #mechs oc #Dahlia Wyrick #art #digital art #photoshop art #yes i was too lazy to make a background so i heavily blurred an edited stock photo of a lab #also pls send me asks about either version of Dahlia #or tell me to write a fic #i just wish to go o f f about her #behold a creation

[alientoastt]

Canon explanation for your Mechs classical paintings: They actually take pictures to imitate the pieces and replace them with the real art. The Toy Soldier is an expert in frame making.

i think either lyf or my mechsona paints em :o)

[image id: a digital drawing of the toy soldier and my mechsona, toast. the toy soldier holds a framed painting and presses its cheek to it fondly. toast is just me, a white teenager with shaved sides, but with patchy facial hair and a defined twisty mustache and a metal nose. there's speech bubbles coming from toast reading "Nah dude, it's like, my right-hand man. It's even an artist Itself!" There is also a thought bubble from the toy soldier; "I drew octokittens all over the back of this canvas and they'll never know :-)" end id.]

#the mechanisms #alientoastt #toy soldier #mechsona #asks #babble #anon #image described #EVERY TAG POSSIBLE.CHRIST

[spkothdvldotmp3]

so remember last july when i thought to myself, "haha, wouldn't it be cool if i made a mechsona?"

well, turns out a year of living with that thought in the back of your head will only get you 4,977 nearly 5,000 words of backstory and a spotify playlist, so, solid 7/10 experience

(okay look, Day 2 of the Mechtober prompts was the most coincidentally perfect overlap of "Mechsona" and "Blood," so I finally decided to stop being a coward and actually let people who aren't my classmates see this. ALSO, quick warnings for violence and death, if you're a bit squeamish about those sorts of things. So, with that said, the story itself...)

Introducing!

La Vie en Rouge

Dear Reader:

In this strange world, so bright and so bold

You may, somehow, find a Tale Yet Untold

You could read one now, if you so choose

This Tale- of the Blood-Red Dancing Shoes.

It had started like any other day. And not even an interesting kind of “any other day,” like a Saturday, which always promises adventure, or a Thursday, which has a tendency towards mystery. No, this was a Tuesday kind of “any other day,” which merely meant inescapable boredom.

At the very least, that’s how it started.

However, as Adeline Troffea was leaving her house, she heard the trumpets that signaled Lord Vitus’ arrival. She groaned. A visit from Vitus- sorry, His Most Esteemed Lord Vitus, she snorted as she mentally corrected herself- never went well. He was a deeply unpleasant person to be around, as he looked like a spoiled child and acted twice as bad. Additionally, he was usually about two seconds away from screaming nonsensically at any townsfolk who bothered him, like some sort of Saturday-morning-cartoon villain. Sometimes Adeline was sure he must be doing it on purpose- his ridiculous moustache (twirled oh-so-carefully at the ends), his pale skin and delicate hands (that had clearly never done anything harder than gesture dramatically from the shade provided by his servants), the too-fine crowns and jewels and capes his draped himself in (who even needed more than one crown? Isn’t that too excessive, even for Vitus?)- he couldn’t be for real, right?

Reader, Lord Vitus would prove himself to be more real than Adeline could imagine before this story’s end. But we’ll get to that in time.

Hopefully, Adeline thought to herself, walking down the well-trodden path into town, I can be in and out of the market before Vitus takes a single dainty step out of his carriage. Fabien, her best friend (practically an older brother, really) as well as the town’s shoemaker, had promised her something special today- an early birthday present, he had called it the day before, as the birthday in question was “an entire week and a day away” and he didn’t know if his “poor, old heart” would hold out that long.

“Fabien, you’re barely 30!” she had protested, shaking her head.

“I know, Addie, I’m ancient!” he’d moaned, before adopting the affectation of what was probably supposed to sound like an old man, but instead sounded more like a wheezing duck. “I can feel my brittle bones crackin’. They ain’t what they used to be, I tell ya. You know, when I was just a boy, I had to walk to school every day? Uphill! In the snow!”

“Both ways!” Adeline joined in before they both dissolved into laughter.

So now, here she was, in front of Fabien’s shop, feet tapping on the ground in a sort of nervous excitement. Gingerly, she opened the door.

“Hello?” she called. The response came from somewhere in the back of the shop.

“Ah, Addie! What a surprise! What sort of thing-that-I-totally-don’t-know-about brings you here today?”

She rolled her eyes as she began to make her way through the shelves and around the cobbling stations to the back of the building. “You know, it’s a funny story actually, but my best friend- well, former best friend, I should say-” she was cut off by a sharp laugh as she turned the next corner and came face to face with Fabien, holding a beautiful red box.

“‘Former best friend?!’ Is that any way to treat someone who’s gotten you such a spectacular present?” he asked, schooling his face into an over exaggerated pout.

“It is if they’re going to be stupidabout it,” she replied, yanking the present from his hands with ease. Fabien made a wounded sound, and Adeline stuck her tongue out in response before opening the lid of the box.

Inside was the most beautiful pair of tap shoes Adeline had ever seen. The leather they were made of was white as freshly fallen snow, and the perfect balance between flexible and sturdy. She turned them over in her hand and gasped, brushing her finger over the engravings on the metal taps.

“Roses,” Fabien smiled softly, “because I know they’re your favorite.”

Overwhelmed, Adeline could only set the shoes aside for a moment and tackle Fabien in a hug. And for that one shining moment, everything was perfect.

“Oh, I simply must have these!” a haughty voice sang out behind Adeline, who jumped at the sudden noise. Standing there was none other than Lord Vitus himself, bedecked in his finest golden cape, and holding- oh no, absolutely not. Before she could even register her own movements, she yanked her shoes back.

“No, you simply mustn’t have these, actually,” she quipped in that same snooty tone, stuffing the shoes back in the box, before suddenly realizing what exactly she had done. Refusing the Lord? Taking things right out of his hands? Mocking him to his face? How could she possibly get out of this?

Clearly, there was only one answer.

She bolted.

She heard Vitus’ petulant cry of “After her!” ring out from behind, and then the heavy sound of soldiers’ footsteps, but she dared not look back. Instead, she ran harder, her mind racing almost as fast as her feet. There had to be someplace to hide. She turned a corner, onto a smaller side street. She couldn’t go home, it was too far away.She burst out onto another street before turning abruptly, one hand wrapping around a streetlamp to keep her momentum as she flew back where she’d just come from, the soldiers falling over themselves in their confused haste. But there were so many soldiers, and there was no way she could outrun them forever.

She ducked into a dark alley for a moment, throwing herself behind a couple of barrels just as the men appeared at the mouth of the alley. She held her breath as they hurried past her, trying not to catch their attention with her heaving gasps. And this is why I’m a dancer, not a runner, she thought, half delirious on a cocktail of exhaustion and adrenaline. Could it have been minutes? Hours? All the streets had blended together long ago, and her muscles ached with exertion. Unintentionally, she closed her eyes, just for a moment.

A strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and Adeline’s blood turned to ice in her veins as her eyes shot open again. Her despairing cry was cut short as another hand covered her mouth. She shook her head wildly, terror taking over, before she caught the gaze of her captor.

Fabien.

Adeline felt her entire body sink back in relief with his appearance. Slowly and ever-so-softly, Fabien removed his hand from her mouth, making a shushing motion before Adeline could even open her mouth to ask what was going on. He carefully undid the buttons of his cloak, taking if off of himself and wrapping it around Adeline. It dangled loosely from her small frame, making her look even smaller. A disguise, she noted distantly, hiding in plain sight. Once he’d secured it around her shoulders, Fabien began to explain.

“Everyone’s pretty proud of you, you know, standing up to Vitus like that. I know you’ve always been a bit of a wildcard, but that was even better than expected. You should have seen his face when you ran, oh my-”

Adeline made a small noise of distress. She hadn’t been making a statement, she’d been making a mistake! It was all a big misunderstanding, and now she was going to be killed, or worse, and she hadn’t even had the chance to wear her beautiful birthday shoes, and-

Fabien shook her gently, murmuring comforts, and she took in a shuddering breath, focusing back on him.

“You’ve been brave enough today. Let me take a turn, okay?” he said softly, gesturing at the shoebox. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed it from her still shaking hands. In seconds, he had pried open the lid, taken the shoes out, and tucked them into the inside pockets of the cloak Adeline now wore, continuing to talk as he did so.

“The village has been giving Vitus the run-around all day, trying to keep him off your trail, and honestly, I’m not sure he’s noticed. That man is so far up his own ass that I genuinely think he can’t even comprehend the thought of people working against him.” Fabien smiled a bit as Adeline giggled weakly. “Just keep a low profile. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

For a moment, Adeline was so overcome with emotion that felt like her legs might give out underneath her. Instead, she threw herself forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Thank you, so much. For everything.”

Fabien squeezed her in return.

“Nothing to thank me for, Addie.”

It was at this moment the sound of soldiers came rushing back, hurling them both back into reality. In a flash, Fabien pulled the cloak’s hood up, casting Adeline’s face in shadow. He gave her a little push towards the other end of the alley, nodding reassuringly. Adeline took a deep breath, steeling herself, before walking, confidently as she could, back out onto the crowded street.

There were soldiers everywhere, knocking on doors, stopping bystanders and asking them about Adeline’s whereabouts. A customer just coming out of the bakery- Monsieur LeClair, she noted- was having one such conversation… if one could call “a man taking obnoxiously large bites out of a muffin and then speaking with his mouth full, spraying bits of food directly into the soldiers’ faces” a conversation. As the soldiers hurriedly excused themselves, disgustedly wiping the muffin bits from their faces, Monsieur LeClair caught Adeline’s eye and winked. She smiled and bowed her head in return before scurrying off again. As she made her way to the town square, she passed at least a dozen or so variations on this conversation- townsfolk left and right making excuses, even outright lying to the soldiers, distracting them long enough for Adeline to slip away, towards the town square.

Vitus was exactly where she thought he would be- right in the middle of the town square, complaining loudly to anyone who would listen (and all those who wouldn’t). She leaned against the brick wall of the closest building, trying to make herself look as small and unassuming as possible. She bit her lip as she thought through possible escape scenarios, keeping Vitus in her peripheral vision, right up until-

“We found the shoemaker, Your Lordship, but no sign of the girl or the shoes.”

Adeline felt her heart stop as her head turned on autopilot. A crowd had gathered in the square, following three figures that Adeline loathed to recognize as Fabien and Lord Vitus’ men. One soldier shoved Fabien down roughly, while another threw the shoebox down with such force that it popped open, revealing its empty inside.

Vitus rolled his eyes at Fabien, looking bored out of his mind. “Where are they?” he sighed.

“Where are what, My Lord?” Fabien asked through gritted teeth.

At this, Vitus seemed to revert to an overgrown toddler.

“My shoes! They were so very pretty and I wanted them, but that little wretch stole them from me and ran off and I want them baaaack!”

Fabien, still on his knees, snorted.

Vitus blinked, clearly surprised. Suddenly, another laugh joined in, and another, and another, and in seconds the entire crowd was laughing at this grown man’s tantrum. Even Adeline found herself giggling, albeit shakily.

It was as though Vitus had only just now realized what kind of a predicament he was in. No one was going to give up the shoes, or the girl, and to make matters worse, they weren’t going to take him seriously either. He glanced nervously around the crowd for a moment before his lip curled and his nose scrunched up, as though he had just smelled something particularly unpleasant. Standing to his full height, he raised his voice.

“You have one week to hand over the shoes! If you do not, there will be, shall we say… severe consequences.” He turned around dramatically, which reignited the snickering, and quickly made his way back to his carriage processional.

As the carriages rattled away, Adeline was struck by an idea. It was a bad idea, she knew, and probably too risky, but she had already defied the odds once today, and with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she felt unstoppable. She nimbly climbed to the roof of the nearest building to pay her respects, so to speak, waving in the direction of Vitus’ window. She ripped off her hood dramatically, snorting when Vitus’ face contorted in rage. And as her heart sang with love for her town and her people, her feet were helpless to dance along for all the world to see. From her perch on the roof, she watched the other townsfolk join her in celebration, dancing in their own little ways. Madame Beaumont lifted her son Jean into the air, spinning him around as he giggled. Michel Rousseau was doing a little shoulder shimmy. Even Old Lady Coralie was dancing a little two-step. Adeline beamed at them all before turning toward Fabien. Several people were still gathered around him, making sure he wasn’t too hurt, and Adeline almost climbed right back down to join them. But, as though he could sense her worry, Fabien looked up suddenly at met her eyes. He smiled at her before winking conspiratorially. Relief flooded through her as she winked back- a sign that everything was going to be okay, and one she believed wholeheartedly.

Just before she climbed back down to go home, she chanced a glance back at Vitus’ carriage. For a second Vitus met her eye, his glare an ice cold promise of revenge. Adeline shivered under the threat, before gathering herself just enough to make a rude gesture back at him. The distressed shriek that followed was music to her ears.

That pompous man-child had it coming anyway, Adeline thought, and resolved to put the matter out of her mind. Of course, Reader, it wasn’t so simple as that, but let it not be said that she didn’t try her best to hide her misgivings from everyone, even herself.

After what was probably too many hugs goodbye, even for her, Adeline finally made her way back home with her new shoes. The moment she closed her door, she slumped against it and slid down to the floor, exhausted and terrified. Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she recalled the look in Vitus’ eyes as he took his leave. She was no fighter! She had no money, no strength, no prospects- no hope. How could she possibly try to stand up to the army Vitus would surely bring back with him? And she couldn’t- wouldn’t- put her people in danger like this, not after they’d already done so much for her. That’s it, she thought, rubbing her eyes, she would go right back to the village and work something out with everyone else, something to keep everyone safe and out of harm’s way before Vitus could return.

But as she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell upon the shoe box, lying on the floor beside her. The shoes themselves had tumbled out from her little outburst, and they almost seemed to be calling to her, begging her to at least try them on, to dance in them. And after so much trouble, how could she possibly refuse?

The shoes were a perfect fit- of course they were, they were literally made for her, she thought as she snickered a little under her breath. Watching herself carefully in the mirror, she raised her right foot ever so slightly before kicking it forward in a test shuffle. She smiled. The sound of metal against the waxed wood floor was perfection. Unable to help herself, she hummed a little tune, matching each note with another step- a cramp roll here, a paradiddle there, a set of triple time steps- she was in her element as she lost herself to the dance.

Dancing in the shoes filled her with such joy that she really could almost forget about the whole thing with Vitus. Adeline knew he wouldn’t take this lying down, and with his power and resources- she knew she had to be prepared. First thing in the morning, I promise I’ll figure out a plan, she reasoned. It’s not as though he could even attack tonight anyway.

So she danced and danced and danced, until the day finally caught up with her, and she quite abruptly fell asleep, not even bothering to take off her new shoes.

That night, Adeline had the strangest dream. She- no, the whole town, was dancing to song unlike any she’d heard before. It almost… hurt, in a way, to listen to, and yet she was sure it was the most beautiful melody she had ever heard. It felt as though it had wormed its way into her soul, her very existence, and intertwined itself so deeply that it might never leave. For a moment, Adeline felt fear, the likes of which she’d never known. She tried to wake herself up, to scream for to someone to help her, to do something, anything to stop this, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop-

And then Calm washed over her completely, every other thought and sensation lost to the ocean of the strange melody as it lulled her back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, it was to find that the song had followed her into the waking world. She knew something was wrong, but as she tried to figure it out, every thought was just out of reach. She stumbled out of her room, towards the front door, but her limbs felt almost disconnected from her, almost as if they were being of their own. She slammed face-first into the door, and, for a split second, the ringing of her ears overpowered the music enough to. I need… help, right, that was it, I need help because of…

Because of……

The music, the music, the music- it consumed her every thought. Every step and every breath taken in time with that exquisite, unending song. Every note whispered sweet nothings in her ear, asking, pleading, begging her to join them and become beautiful too, until she was helpless to resist any longer. Until finally, she began to dance.

And dance, dear Reader, she did.

She found herself completely at the mercy of the music as it maneuvered her around like a marionette. She was only vaguely aware that she had somehow made it to the town square, and that several of her concerned neighbors were trying to talk to her, but nothing could break through the haze of the music.

As the day went on and on, passersby occasionally stopped to try to rouse her from her state, all to no avail. It seemed there was no way to reach her, and as night fell, they stopped trying. The light of the moons illuminated her as she danced, and were it not for the sound of the metal in her shoes they might have assumed her some dark spirit. Perhaps some still did. But the fact remains that all the townsfolk, save one, eventually found their way to sleep, secure in their ignorance of the events to come.

The next morning, as the suns rose over the horizon, the people of Strasbourg woke to the sight of not one, but two figures dancing in the square. By breakfast, it had been made a dozen. By lunch, it was nearly half the town. And by 8:46 pm, on the dot, all 398 residents of Strasbourg had found themselves unwilling victims of the dance.

Reader, there are many things I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you that the dancing stopped just as strangely and suddenly as it began, and it became a scary story told for many generations. Or else, I wish I could tell you that the townsfolk found a way to weaponize their dancing and rose up against Lord Vitus, and discovered the cause of their dance- a machine of Vitus’ cruel creation, designed to transmit an almost imperceptible signal into the minds of those who heard it and drive them to madness. Picture it now, Reader: Vitus, stroking a gloved hand down the side of the machine as its whistles blew and the steam that rose from the spouts shrieked, the sound of his dastardly laughter barely audible over the chaos, until it was suddenly cut short by the doors to the hall as they opened with a BANG, and Vitus would finally come face to face with the consequences of his actions.

But more than all that, I wish I could tell you Adeline never remembered what happened as she danced. That for the seven days and seven nights that she danced in the town square, without food, without water, without rest, she was never aware of the fact that everyone she had ever known lay dead or dying at her feet.

None of these things are true, of course. The dance continued, the machine was not destroyed, and as the days passed Adeline slowly became more and more conscious. She watched, helpless, as all around her, her friends, her family, fell to the ground to dance no more. She yelled, screamed, pleaded to anyone who would listen, to anyone who could help- and the only response she got was the answering cries of her village, getting smaller and smaller.

By the sixth day of the village’s dance, there was only one other person still dancing beside her. It was Fabien, because of course it was Fabien- she didn’t know if this was supposed to be a blessing or a curse, though she was leaning heavily towards the latter. His steps had been slowing and his wheezing had increased exponentially in the past few hours, and Adeline knew what was coming, even if she couldn’t bear to say it aloud. Fabien, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I did warn you,” he rasped, after a coughing fit had nearly sent Adeline into a heart attack of her own, “That I wouldn’t make it to your birthday. My heart is just so-”

“God, shut up, please, for once in your life just shut up!” She screamed, her voice breaking. Her outburst seemed to shock him, and she turned away before she could see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath before barreling on.

“Fabien, this is all my fault, I’m so sorry, I should have-” he made a sharp noise and she cut herself off, choking back a sob.

“Don’t you dare think, for even a moment, that this is your fault,” he whispered, sounding more serious than she had ever heard him. “We all made our own decisions, you and me and everyone else. This is not on you, even a little bit. It was my choice, and I would choose it in a million lifetimes, okay? I just-” Fabien dropped to his knees, gasping, legs shaking almost imperceptibly, and Adeline felt her heart shatter.

“Addie, I’m so sorry,” his every word sounding like it had been ripped from his throat, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

And with that, he, too, was gone, and Adeline’s last remaining hope had died with him.

Oh Reader, what could she do but cry? So she cried. She cried for Fabien, for Monsieur LeClair, for Madame Beaumont, for Michel Rousseau, for Old Lady Coralie, for every lost soul of Strasbourg, until only one remained- and only then did she cry for herself, dancing alone once more.

The tears still streamed down her face when Lord Vitus returned with only a small squadron the next day, a full week after Adeline’s dance had begun. Towering over them from atop his horse, Vitus called out to his men.

“Oh ho, what have we here? An entire village, destroyed by some sort of plague, it seems. What a tragic end… But look! It seems one still suffers. Let us put the poor thing out of its misery, shall we?”

The largest of their number stepped forward, an axe readied in his hands. An executioner, Adeline realized tiredly. He made his way towards her, gingerly maneuvering around the corpses littering the town square, and Adeline wished she still had the strength to huff out a laugh. To show respect for the dead, on the path to kill another? How utterly ridiculous! Without a sound, the executioner raised his axe above his head, and Adeline closed her eyes, prepared to meet her end.

“Wait!” Vitus’ whining cut through the air. “Bring her to me first! She has something of mine that I want back.”

The executioner shrugged, before lunging towards the unsuspecting Adeline and hefting her over his shoulder with a grunt. She struggled against him, as much as one can struggle with a body that refuses to stop dancing, but it made no difference- he was simply too strong. Within moments, she was set down before Lord Vitus.

“The shoes,” he demanded. “Hand them over.”

“Are you kidding me? All of this for some shoes?” Adeline whispered hoarsely. “Hundreds of people, an entire town, dead, because you couldn’t stand the thought of someone else wearing these stupid fucking shoes?”

Vitus sneered at her. “On the contrary- I’m killing you because of the ‘stupid fucking shoes,’ as you’ve so crassly called them. Everyone else was… shall we say, collateral damage.”

Adeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her village, her friends, her family- they weren’t even some kind of fucked-up punishment for her, to drive her mad with grief and guilt. They were just “collateral damage,” not even worth an afterthought in the mind of their murderer. Her rage boiled inside of her, and had Adeline been able, she would have killed the man herself just then.

“Oh no, look!” Vitus sounded so genuinely miserable that for a moment Adeline was taken aback. “You’ve gone and ruined them!”

She glanced down as Vitus gestured towards her shoes and saw it was indeed true. The once-pristine white was long gone; now the leather was completely stained through by her own blood.

Reader, do you know what she did then? Why, she did the only thing she could.

She laughed, Reader. She laughed for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, all her frustration and sorrow and fear and anger and fatigue welling up from within her as she faced this utterly ridiculous man. She laughed. And as Vitus’ disappointment turned to shock, then to an angry pout, she laughed even harder. Even the dance, for a moment, seemed to laugh with her, each shuffle taking on the tone of ha-ha, ha-ha.

Finally, Vitus had had enough. He struck her, clean across the face, and for a moment, the laughter ceased as she gasped in pain.

“You know, I think they look better this way,” she drawled after catching her breath. “The red really brings out my eyes.”

Lord Vitus, clearly having expected Adeline to fall to her knees and grovel for forgiveness (fat chance, she thought, even if I hadn’t been cursed), puffed up like a particularly unpleasant frog as he spluttered through some sort of retort. Even his stupid moustache seemed to puff up with him, Adeline noticed in tired amusement, as he finally settled on, “W-W-Well, I never!”

He turned away from her sharply and caught the eye of the executioner. Adeline’s stomach dropped as Vitus’ face returned to that arrogant smile. He looked back at her, malice gleaming in his eyes, and addressed her once more.

“I do soapologize, it seems that I have forgotten myself for a moment. I am, however, fully prepared to make it up to you. You see, I do, in fact, possess the antidote to your little ‘Dancing Plague,’ as it were, and I would be delighted to offer you the cure.”

Adeline couldn’t see it, but as she felt movement at her back, she knew what was about to happen. In one final act of defiance, she spat at Vitus, who squealed as he tried, and failed, to avoid it. He huffed once more as she laughed at him, before screeching his final command.

“A PERMANENT CURE!”

And with that, Adeline felt pain explode in her legs, near blinding in its intensity. For a moment, a scream overpowered the music, and it took a moment longer to realize the scream was her own. She blinked though unnoticed tears to look up -when had she fallen- at Vitus, but she couldn’t quite focus on him -or anything else. She felt so -tired sick- dizzy, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and –die- rest. But the pain in her legs screamed for her attention, and as she dragged herself up, she realized why.

At its simplest, a cure is just a way to remove a problem. It doesn’t need to be as advanced as a vaccine, or as complicated as the witches’ remedies of old. In fact, Lord Vitus’ antidote was both exceedingly simple and remarkably effective.

The permanent cure for the Dancing Plague? Simply remove the problem.

Namely, the legs.

How strange, she thought, in that last moment of lucidity, as she stared at the legs- her legs- lying on the ground a few feet away. I almost expected them to keep dancing.

And with that, she fell, lifeless, to the ground.

But Reader- she did not die.

#look im still working on uploading this to ao3 but for now we're stuck like this #ill reconfigure this later once ive got that up. or maybe ill just make a new post. whichever is easier. #mechtober #the mechanisms #i cant believe im maintagging this but you know what im proud of it #my writing #also no im not late what are you talking about

[thedreadvampy]

man you know what the actual biggest shift in the Mechanisms fandom dynamic as it's expanded is? as the fandom has grown outside People Who've Had Direct Contact With The Mechs it's really interesting how it's become more rather than less about the band members themselves.

in retrospect it makes perfect sense like. in the 2010s fandom most of the big name fan producers were, if not friends with the band, at least friends of friends or social acquaintances. and even though the characters are not the performers, they're very closely linked, and I can attest from experience that it feels like you're writing fanfic about your friends even when you're writing about their characters.

like I tried SO MANY TIMES to write Tim/Bertie fic but I always stalled out when I came to write dialogue because I was like...would Tim say that? and when it came to shipping I could just about manage kissing scenes but as soon as I tried to write anything adult my brain was like ABORT ABORT ABORT THAT'S TIM YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT YOU CAN'T WRITE STORIES ABOUT SEX YOU IMAGINE YOUR FRIENDS HAVING THAT'S WEIRD. And bear in mind a lot of the popularity of Tim/Bertie was that it was about the only Legit Mechanism Ship because. you can't ship your friends together out loud. it's impossible to not carry over baggage from what you know of them (like there are ships I simply Cannot See because I know the performers don't get on great. or one of them is gay/straight/ace. or they're best friends IRL in an extremely siblingy way)

so because writing about people you know gets in the way of popular fandom activities like shipping and headcanons, fandom focus was a lot more on the album characters. because those were definitely Characters In A Story rather than People We Knew.

epecially in the Once days, rather than making Mechsonas, people would put their OCs in the world of OUATIS or in the City (and it's a fun avenue for fanfic! if you know the mythos you can have almost infinite fun going 'what would a UDaD Orion be like? what would a UDaD Persephone be like? what role could Rumpelstiltskin or the Seven Swans or Bluebeard play in the war?' and there's enough little seeds down you can be like 'huh let's expand on the Red Hood. let's build characters around Bors and Percival. let's discuss what Eurydice's deal was'). and it's eminently shippable - there are a lot more canon ships to work with, and a lot of configurations to ship in. if you're more of a curatorial fan, there's also plenty of lore and backstory to dive into.

honestly I think a lot of this came from the fact that most of the fanworks I saw back in the day were coming from a handful of people (frithinthorns, lyman_beta, trisshawkeye etc) so it was very shaped by what those people were into. there was a lot of rose/cinders and a lot of tim/bertie on the side (as I say that's the exception to the No Crew Fic trend, but it was p much always about pre-Mechanisms Tim for obvious reasons)

It's been really interesting to see the fandom pivot to more crew-centred content! I enjoy it a bunch but if you'd asked me back in 2014 what a mostly-online fandom would focus on, first off it would have blown my mind to imagine the Mechs having thousands of overseas fans who'd never seen them play (Kofi was reminiscing about when they played the O2 venue in Oxford and we were all joking about how they'd Finally Made It bc they could draw an audience of 100 or so), but secondly I would have guessed that if you got into the Mechanisms through their recordings rather than their shows, you'd be much more likely to focus on the album characters. In fact the opposite seems to be true, the fandom now seems way more interested in the crew than want of the album characters (except Lyf I guess). and that's really cool to me. what connects with people is so unpredictable and it's so cool that people are building attachments to and interests in the crew of the Aurora whether through live shows or audio recordings of them performing!

[incaseofspace]

so, uh, @thedreadvampy, I heard we were talking about jon sims mechsonas?

Georgie is definitely the frontman/D’Ville equivalent, and I feel like Jon takes on more of a Brian or Raphaella role, mostly instruments with the occasional singing. He usually takes the calmer roles like Oedipus or smaller ones like Hatter or Lyssa in the TTBT albums, but I also gave him Galahad because I think it’s hilarious. Jarchivist can have one (1) unhinged song, as a treat.

Eoin = Irish biblical version of John, and Advena is Latin for stranger, as long as google translate and Wikipedia did not lead me astray. I made him the navigator since I feel like his backstory would be something dramatic about wandering the solar system searching for his purpose. His mechanism is his hands, destroyed when he reached into a symbolic volcano to save an important ring of some kind or something. (It is my humble belief that Jon was a Lord of the Rings kid.)

Instrument was a tossup between viola and keyboard, but ultimately keyboard feels more like a Jon instrument to me, and I liked the mental image of him tapping at the keys with metal hands. His costume is a bit more reserved than your typical Mechanism, mostly just his gloves and a coat, but he does have very smeared mascara and two whole belts, so I think it counts!

I had a really fun time with this!! Honestly I’m tempted to make a whole band to go with him.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jarchivist mechsona #this was SO much fun to think about... I ignored so much homework to draw these #sketches

[chronically-aliferous]

I’m currently in the process of building a Mechs server on Discord!

It’ll be star-ship themed, and anyone can join. It’ll just be a place to vibe with other Mechanisms fans and have fun, discuss theories about the albums, introduce your Mechsona, and make friends!

While in-character interaction is fine, (I draw the line at full-fledged roleplay; If you’d like to do that, please find a partner, group, or server dedicated to it!) it is not a requirement.

Because construction of the star-ship is still in progress, you’ll have to wait to join, but you can message me beforehand and tell me that you’d like a pass onboard once it’s finished! Name suggestions for the ship and icon submissions are also available, and all submitted icons will be credited unless specifically requested otherwise.

Please don’t be afraid to message me, I’m absolutely not going to bite!

#The Mechanisms #The Mechs #Discord

[sesamie]

for the ask game, i see you as:

- cd but human

- also you are dressed like &eorge because of your old pfp (and you have her hair. and are also just a pencil sketch)

- short. this isn't supposed to be rude i just. imagine you are not tall?????? no fucking clue why (maybe it's because i'm tall idk)

- like almost definitely mechanized in some way

despite the fact that you draw yourself a lot and post it, you are just cyborg cd with a pink bowtie to me

lucky for you cd is a villainsona so actually yes i do look like cd but human!! my hairs not pink anymore since the dye is long faded but YES that is basically what i look like >:)

but i'm honored you think im dressed like &eorge!! i definitely rock the bowtie DHFJDHS

YES i'm short you're the SECOND person to say this i'm 5'2 and a half WHAT ABOUT ME GIVES THAT AWAY SO EASILY /nm

thank you <3 if i ever make a mechsona i'll ask your advice DHDJSHSJ

in conclusion? cyborg cd with a pink bowtie is a pretty good way to be. thanks!!

#aks #ppl that send asks in this format are heroes they make it so easy to answer every single part individually #also you're tall you say?? how tall? taller than me? taller than ross federman????

[bloodbot-brian]

I need to just casual mechpost more often so uh here I go do you guys think uh I don’t know I just like Brian a lot guys please ask me about my fic for him that I’m working on because I could talk forever omg also please ask about my ideas for my mechsona that would be very cool (in asks please because it makes it easier to answer)

#bear growls #the mechs

[allmycrushesaredead]

So me and a group of friends made mechsonas and I wanted to share mine!

Btw, these are picrews i found, not my own work

Name: 火花 影 (Hibana Kage) 

Nicknames: Sparky 

Gender: FUCK 

Pronouns: Fae/faer 

 Age at mechanization: around 26 

Tol or Smol: Around average height? I'm gonna say about 5'5 ish 

Looks: Pale skin. Glowing eyes that change color depending on faer mood, bright blue, curly hair that's cut short in a bob cut. Faer mechanism is the neck, and there are glowing bloodstains below the area. Fae generally wears all black, close fitting clothes that are easy to move around in. 

Personality: Fae may be on the smaller side, but fae will fight you if you're a threat to faer friends or faerself. Very quiet due to past trauma, doesn’t trust easily.

Backstory: Hibana is from the planet 星の花 (Hoshi no hana), or Flower of the Stars. It abounds in vibrant colors and neon lights. Hibana was a doctor before the cyborgs decided to wreak havoc on faer city. All of faer family was killed and fae was left alone. Still fae continued to work in the streets, trying to help anyone who needed it. This meant that fae helped both sides. Although fae held resentment towards the cyborg gangs, fae wouldn't let that get in the way of faer work. Everything was going relatively well until a gang decided to snatch Hibana and take faer to their headquarters to try and fix up a very hurt leader of the gang. When fae told them fae wouldn't be able to fix the damage done, they slit faer neck, leaving faer for dead. 

Extras: Fae is a polyamorous asexual lesbian :)

I also really pieced together faer story and I’ll post it below the cut! Warning tho, its kinda graphic and traumatizing, but I’m proud of it and wanted to show it off!!

Hibana hates technology. 

When fae was seven, the Dākusutā killed faer mom and dad. The Dākusutā was a notorious gang on Hoshi no hana, with connections in the government and nearly every aspect of society. They mainly worked with cyber threats, but kept up a very intimidating physical presence and weren’t afraid of resorting to violence to get things done. 

Hibana’s parents worked as moles, ratting out the most influential people who worked with the gangs. The few respectable government officials left in power would make sure that they got that person removed from power somehow. 

However, as more and more people connected to the Dākusutā kept getting removed from office, the Dākusutā started to get suspicious. When they started targeting the people responsible for removing officials from power, and more and more officials wound up dead, Hibana’s family started to get worried. They went into hiding, moving from place to place when the Dākusutā got too close. And it worked, at least for a while. But they got complacent. The had eluded discovery for a year and a half, and it started to feel like they never would be found. It had been three months since the last move, and the family had fallen into the happy pattern of a simple life.

By the time they finally caught wind of the Dākusutā’s plans, it was already too late. They were already surrounded. With the Dākusutā banging down the door, they hid Hibana, warning faer not to make a sound and to stay hidden until it was safe to come out. So, fae did. Fae cowered in that cold, dark place, sobbing silently. Fae was forced to listen as faer parents begged the Dākusutā to let them live… Fae listened to them die screaming. And the Dākusutā weren’t merciful. They dragged out every last second, executing Hibana’s parents with sadistic pleasure. It went on for hours. Hours went by as Hibana tried to block out the agonizing screams of faer parents. Fae wasn’t naive either. Fae was young, but had seen enough in faer seven short years to know exactly what was happening to faer parents, and fae knew there was nothing fae could do about it. 

Fae felt so utterly helpless. But, fae did what fae knew fae had some control over. Fae stayed hidden and stayed quiet. After faer parents finally went silent, fae didn’t dare move. Fae knew someone could be staying behind to make sure no one came out of hiding when they thought no one was there. Sure enough, another hour went by before fae heard a pair of footsteps shuffle out the door, leaving the house silent. Still, fae didn’t dare move. Another hour went by before fae dared to leave the safe space, heart pounding and tears streaming silently down faer face. 

 No one was waiting for faer when fae walked into the main room. At least, no one alive. Hibana’s parents were in the living room. What was left of them, rather. Fae stared in shock, shaking violently. But fae couldn’t stay and grieve. It wasn’t safe. Fae just ran, a pair of child-sized bloody footprints trailing behind faer. 

Hibana went to the only place fae could think to go: the library. Libraries were practically unheard of on Hoshi no hana, and the few that did remain were viewed as so archaic that no one ever went. But in the few months fae had been in the area, that had become faer sanctuary. Hidden away in the dusty books, fae could escape for hours, lost in distant lands. Fae could be anything, do anything, know anything. All the information fae could ever want was right at faer fingertips. 

So, it wasn’t a huge surprise when fae found faerself at the steps to the library. Hands shaking, fae pushed the doors open, closing it quietly behind faer. 

Silent footsteps padding through the aisles, fae made faer way to the nest of sorts fae had made for faerself. There were a couple of blankets, pillows, and a battered old stuffed toy that fae had brought faerself, but the majority of it was from the librarian, a middle-aged woman named Karui Kibō who looked much older than she was. She was a kindly, sweet tempered lady who always made sure Hibana had enough things for faer nest and food for when fae stayed there for extended periods of time. But she knew not to disturb faer sanctuary and understood it at a personal level. For several weeks, she merely gave a soft smile that crinkled around her eyes, nodding lightly as Hibana walked in. After a few weeks, she would make some small talk, and after two full months, they would end up talking for hours about their favorite books, favorite places, and dreams for the future. Fae even confided in Karui, revealing that fae wanted to become a doctor. It was practically unheard of that someone would study to become a doctor. They had technology that could do that now, AI that could do the job better than anyone could have before. But Hibana was determined. And so, Karui made sure fae could learn to be a doctor. She started to bring books about medicine that fae could understand, making a stack next to faer nest. 

It was now, as Hibana walked slowly over to faer nest that fae saw the growing mound of books. Normally, fae would have rushed to open one and dive straight into the wonderful information it contained. Instead, fae just curled into faer nest, faer shoes sticky with half-dried blood. Fae stared numbly at the bright clashing colors, their vibrant hues sickening. Fae suddenly wrenched them off, chucking them away from faer with a silent sob. Aside from the crash the shoes made colliding with something in the distance, fae didn’t make a sound. Even when Karui found faer, realized what had happened, and had cleaned faer up, fae didn’t make a sound. Fae changed faer clothes, donning the muted greys and browns of the clothing Karui had made for faer and sat silently, staring blankly into space. It was weeks before Hibana spoke again, and moths before fae could hold a conversation. Fae slowly opened up, falling into the pattern of reading, studying, and spending time with Karui. 

Years went by, and the two only grew closer. It was twelve years later when Karui started to get sick, her age finally catching up with her. She knew her time was coming and she was ready. Unlike most on Hoshi no hana, she didn’t fear death. Rather than placing her life into the hands of technology, being programmed and gaining a sort of immortality through technology, she embraced the inevitability of death.

When her time finally did come, she went peacefully. Hibana grieved, of course, but fae knew Karui was at peace. It was then that Hibana vowed fae would never be immortalized as code, living on as programming. Fae would die one day and finally attain that peace. Until then, fae wanted to help people, to ease their suffering. Fae practiced as a doctor, treating those who couldn’t afford or didn’t trust the AI. Fae finally felt fae had a purpose in life. Fae helped anyone in need… even the very people who killed faer parents. And everything was fine… until it wasn’t. 

A few years after Karui passed, Hibana was approached by a member of Dākusutā who demanded that fae come with them. Leading faer to a secluded area, they showed faer the leader of the Dākusutā, bleeding out and quickly losing a lot of blood. They demanded that fae heal him, pulling out a wickedly sharp knife to threaten faer with. Still, Hibana kept faer cool, hands steady as fae attempted to find the origin of the bleed to get it under control. But fae couldn’t find any wounds. The man bleeding out without a single wound fae could see on his body. Unsure of what to do, fae tried to compress the skin, stop the bleeding. It was impossible. The man’s skin simply oozed blood in any place fae wasn’t compressing, and bled through the bandages when she held them to the skin.

It was then that fae realized fae couldn’t save him. The other gang members must have realized as well, because the person with the knife now pressed the blade to Hibana’s neck, blood beading where the sharp metal pierced the skin. They demanded that fae heal him, or that they would kill faer. Fae tried to explain that there was nothing fae could do, but they just pressed the blade harder. Fae closed faer eyes, vowing fae would die silently. Fae wouldn’t beg for mercy, wouldn’t cry out. Fae was ready. 

When the gang member let out a harsh cry and Hibana felt the blade slit open faer throat, fae felt a small smile pass over faer face. It was time. It felt like the cruelest joke the universe had ever played on anyone when fae was given faer mechanism. Fae never wanted to live, fae was ready to go, and yet was forced to live on, immortal, and trapped. 

 That’s why fae refused to trust faer shipmates. Fae occasionally found faerself caring for the others, only for some minor altercation to happen that shattered faer fragile trust. Fae still cared for the others, but fae sure as hell wasn’t going to suffer for it. So, most days fae hid up in faer quarters, packing the shelves with books and building faer nest, hiding away in comfortable solitude. Fae still helped the others when asked with the tech issues, as fae was probably the most knowledgeable in the area, but fae despised every second of it. 

Fae also hid to not show faer weakness. The smallest things could trigger a panic response, leaving faer frozen in flashbacks, never sure what around faer was real. Simple words or phrases would leave faer grabbing at faer throat, clutching that blasted thing that forced fae to live, nails ripping at it in a pointless attempt to make it all stop. 

But fae never told anyone, so it was easier to just hide in faer nest, safe behind this mask of an uncaring persona. Fae would do anything for faer shipmates, but fae never let faerself get close. It just wasn’t worth the risk.

For reference, the gang is ダークスター (Dākusutā) which roughly translates to dark star and the librarian is 軽い希望 (Karui kibō) that means light of hope,or light hope, but the idea of a light of hope sorta thing

If i remember right, Hibana’s name meant shimmer in darkness.

more info!! 

just so yall know, hibana's natural hair and eye colors are blue, so its not that fae dyes it or somethin, fae doesnt have control over it. basically fae doesnt wear bright colors because it reminds faer of faer planet, but fae cant change the fact that faer hair and eyes are colorful, at least not without putting in tons of effort that fae doesnt want to put in to change it

also since faer veins are faer mechanism, faer blood (or ig what you could consider faer blood) actually shimmers and sorta glows like the mechanism on faer neck. so, theoretically, if fae were to blush, fae would basically glow like blues and purples. theoretically. also theoretically, if you were to look closely at faer in the dark, fae almost shimmers a little bit, but very faintly. the most noticable thing you see in the dark is the fact that faer eyes glow, but very coldly, and if fae makes eye contact with you, you probably wont be very calm, you'll probably start freaking the fuck out. its kinda creepy

#the mechanisms #mechs #mechsona #hibana kage

[unearted]

mr slut on his way to solve his daily sudoku. anyway thats my mechsona he dont have a name yet because im bad at names.

i assume it would be victor cause thats my chosen name atm but like. we will see (also yes that IS connected to frankenstein. a lot of dramatic gay bitches are named victor and i think i deserve to be named victor as well)

one with the mechanism, one without. simply because i forgot to add the mechanism when i first drew it lmao

also i realised that this green glasses make me look extremely eye-aligned and like just so you know. i am not

#drawing self is hard when you realize that almost all clothes are the same color #mechsona #the mechanisms #my art