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princehec-tor-kur · 4 years

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Naming Seremony

Horda- no, Hec-Tor. He'd have to get used to saying that again. It was strange to reclaim his old name, he hadn't been called that in- what has it now- 40 yernz? No. 39. 9 long solar-cycles on the frontlines and 30 acursed ones on that backwater mudball planet. A world of stailmates and incompatence. He felt like he lost IQ points only by being there. Nothing good came out of that world... well...

That brought him back to the matter at hand. There was one good thing, one wonderful thing that he would endure a thousand yernz of Etheria for.

Entrapta.

Who was in the middle of swinging from the ceiling side to side. The ex-Princess bounced from pipe to pipe, decorating the briefing-chamber. The main corridor was already covered in ornaments and so were most of the rechargeing-chambers. She just seemed to have limitless energy at all times. It was astaunding.

Suddenly without warning Entrapta flung herself into Hordak's arms, cousing him to drop his warm drink. He cought her of course, luck enough he had his armour on, if not his arms might've just snapped off from their sockets. He gave her the same look he always have her back in their Sanctum on Etheria, a look Entrapta was all too familar with. The 'You could've hurt yourself, please be more careful' look. The frown was met with the scientist's smile and the worry melted away quickly.

"Not bad." They heard from the war-table. Despara looked over the decorations on the walls, "A little more lights than necessary, bbbbbut not bad. For a native." She stated hands on her hips.

"Despie." Hec-Tor narrowed his blood red eyes at her. Entrapta didn't seem to have cought the meaning between the lines, so she just thanked her for the complement. Hec-Tor knew that things were going to be tence when he announced that Entrapta was staying with the team onboard the Annihilation. Clones hated natives. Any natives. Manufactured clones not belonging anywhere was a hard sense of reality to tackle, especially when you visit so many worlds, with some many 'normal' species. Everybody considers themselves normal and the constant, and many 'proud' races wished to mention that to the clones' faces. A lot. Normal became a negative concept. And native became an insult.

Hec-Tor wouldn't have that, not to Entrapta.

"What? I didn't mean anything by it." Despara spread her arms out and up and shrugged off the stare. Her gaze returned to a holographic list displayed on the war-table, breaking eye contact and exiting the converstaion.

Entrapta planted a small kiss on the ex-General's forehead with a giggle, "I tried my best to make it look as proper as possible. I got a few pointers from Moe. I know how important this tradition thing is to you." She said as she booped the tip of Hec-Tor's nasal cavity.

Hec-Tor felt like he could melt.

"Thank you. I hope... I hope you don't feel obligated to do it. No one is forcing you to do this. I wish for this to be a comfortable space for you."

"Oh it is. I have company in the rafters with Imp and Vultak. I get to bake cupcakes with alien ingredients, I can explore the ever-expanding universe with my lab-partner and the TECH! Oh the tech! It's all such a gift. I just wanted to thank you for what you've given me."

Hec-Tor was speechless, no words would've ever done justice to this woman. He met her forehead with his, ears low, and began to chirp to her ear as he pulled her in tighter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Hec-Tor felt her hair coil around his torso, even a small sneaky tenticle crept under his skirt.

Luckily for Despara, who tried her best to ignore the two, they heard the hanger doors open and the rest of the squad walked in. Almost as if an invisible wall formed between them, the two parted, rose red eminating from their cheeks. Hec-Tor was the first to clear his throat and speak up.

"Mission went well, I hope." He stated nerviously.

Modulok turned his two heads to him his right head spoke, "Yeah, yeah, got two guys tied up in the undercarriage. Oh hey! You got the ornaments ready."

"Ya hah! And I also made cake." Entrapta stepped forth and exclaimed.

"We know that's why we threw it out and I baked a new one. To void mass food poisoning, you understand." Mosquitor mentioned matter-of-factly with a finger swirling around.

"Correction. We threw out most of the old cake, there's a slice left. Cakes all cut up so no one knows who'll get it. Like a birthday Russian roulette." Modulok gestured jazz hands as he sat at the war-table.

Dragstor sat down beside him, "I don't know what any of those two things you just said were. But I'll risk it. I'm starving... seriously I just got out of a three month recharging coma." He said taking off his breathing apparatus, straight away taking a spoonfull of cake into his left port in his cheek.

"Just don't clog yourself like you did back in the bar. We know you can only consume liquids." Vultak stated as he perched on a metal beam above with young Imp in his lap.

Mantenna, Leech and Zed sat down in silence, eyes rolling at the nusence coming out of the others' mouths. Dylamug turned on the jukebox they stole a few raids ago, filling the room with calming atmosphereic classical music. Hec-Tor and Entrapta joined the rest at the table. The mad-scientist turned to her lab-partner with stars in her eyes, "Happy Naming Seremony, Hordikins."

"Thank you... for everything."

"Prrrrrtttt! Oh-ho lord! A'right, I got the bad slice." Modulok scrubbed his tongue in haste.

#entrapdak #hordak #entrapta #the defects #despara #vultak #modulok #dragstor #dylamug #leech #mantenna #zed #prince zed #hec-tor #imp #clone ocs #ocs #oc

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sharkodude · 4 years

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The Elite Horde (3/3): Redesigned members of the Evil Horde from the original cartoon/toy line to fit within the Netflix She-ra cartoon.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

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storiesfromthetoyshelf · 3 years

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The Evil Horde part 1 #motuclassics #heman #hemanandthemastersoftheuniverse #mastersoftheuniverse #horde #theevilhorde #generalsundar #hordetrooper #octavia #wraptrap #multibot #cychop #vultak #dylamug #hordak #buzzsawhordak #100toydays #storiesfromthetoyshelf https://www.instagram.com/p/CNFgd3eAaMS/?igshid=toj3bjiptwho

#motuclassics #heman #hemanandthemastersoftheuniverse #mastersoftheuniverse #horde #theevilhorde #generalsundar #hordetrooper #octavia #wraptrap #multibot #cychop #vultak #dylamug #hordak #buzzsawhordak #100toydays #storiesfromthetoyshelf

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captainmiiiidknight · 4 years

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Newest acquisition from an eBay auction... Masters of the Universe Classics VULTAK Evil Flying Zookeeper 😄 pretty Badass lol #motu #vultak #actionfigures #unclebobbystwistedtoystore https://www.instagram.com/p/CGdN0Dkgpj4/?igshid=18el30u8uyplp

#motu #vultak #actionfigures #unclebobbystwistedtoystore

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polymerclayfantasyfigures · 4 years

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Prahvus. I have to say, the incredible amount of detail that’s put into these MOTU classics. Another one is definitely Vultak. #prahvus. #vultak #motu200x #motu #motuclassics #mastersoftheuniverse #mastersoftheuniverseclassics #mastersoftheuniverse200x #mastersoftheuniversecollection #evilwarriors #actionfigures #actionfigure #actionfigurecollection #actionfigurecollector #actionfigurecollectors #toys #toynerd #toynerds #toynerdz #toycollector #toycollectors #vintagetoys #vintagetoycollectors #trapjaw #triklops #skeletor #snakemountain #motu4evah #motu4life #motufan https://www.instagram.com/p/B7pRi07lIft/?igshid=40wiykhqmfdu

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prince-toffee · 3 years

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She-Ra #0

- Karma -

[Two Years After The Defeat of Horde Prime]

Plumeria

The moonlight of the many Etherian moons rained down and coated the greenery of Plumeria. Plumeria was one of the smallest kingdoms on the planet, there wasn’t anything fancy or kingdom-ly about it. No enormous castles, not even real towns, just a bunce of tree-houses and empty fields. Which in a way was perfect for the refugee clones, the open fields were filled with makeshift tents, with tired, injured, and or defective clones with conditions that had to be looked after, taking up residence in them. Over the two years more and more shelters accumulated since the defeat of Prime and his main armada. It all worked out fairly well, with the clones populating the ground and the Plumerians residing in the trees. They much like most Etherians had mixed feelings about the clones, some were more welcoming than others. Fortunately brawls didn’t break out as often as in some other parts. It was clear that the Princess of the land, Perfuma, wasn’t too thrilled about their presence, but she put on a smile and played nice.

Modulok wasn’t quite sure what the title of ‘royalty’ or ‘Princess’ meant on this world, but it seemed as if the success criteria involved owning some land since there were apparently hundreds of Princesses, some with kingdoms the size of a town, or a nightclub, believe it or not. How the political landscape worked, he did not know. But he didn’t really care either. It was peaceful that was all that mattered to a surgeon and medic like Modulok. The settlement at Plumeria was one of the smaller ones, nowhere near as developed and packed as Doormat or the New Salineas. And again that’s why he liked it, quiet, far away from anything and everything, a grasshopper here, the rustle of leaves there. However something always seemed to go out of its way to find him. Case in point his quite drunk brother, Vultak, who barged into Mod’s tent in the middle of the night.

Vultak clumsily stumbled into the tent, two glasses of some sort of alcoholic drink in hand. He set the glasses on the operating table Mod was currently working on. Before Mod could protest, as he opened his mouth Vultak raised his pointing finger up to him to stop him. V then proceeded to drag a chair from the side to the operating table. V sat down and took a swig emptying one glass. The drunk clone just stared dazed at the patient Modulok was operating on, but caught a glance coming from Mod that was disapproving.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, carry on.”

That drew out a sigh from the medic, he was all too familiar with those snappy comebacks as well as his delusional pessimistic rants and ravings, which Mod was sure were about to follow. The two just looked at each other, a sedated individual between them, it was quite a comedic scene to be hold if there were a third party observing.

Modulok had lost his arms in one of the countless wars and had replaced them with cybernetics which could split in two giving him the total of four arms to work with. As a defect Modulok had blood red lenses, eyes and teeth. Not to mention his skinny frame, and lack of weight, and inability to gain weight. He wore a black and red tech suit, not bulky like Hordak’s, much thinner with tubes and cables hanging here or there. Under it you could see his bones and rip cage pressed tight around his skin, in some areas the white bone broke through the skin forming vein-like patterns across his body - common side effects for defects. A unique defect to Mod was that his skin was coloured red, it didn’t mean much, but others thought it looked neat.

Vultak was far more odd and different, some clones even called him the strangest clone alive. One of the oldest living too. V was a defect too, defects liked to stick together, at least most of them, not Modulok specifically. Vultak was thin too, like a walking toothpick. Vultak’s top half of his head was a red glass-looking dome resembling a radar display. No eyes. However a long witch-like nose. And shark-sharp teeth, though that was common with all clones. Possibly his most iconic aspect were his retractable wings being able to extend out of his under-arms, unveiling metallic feathers as sharp as knives. Various experimental technology was incorporated into his arms, giving his wings the ability to cause micro-hurricanes, and gusts of wind. And flight, obviously.

Also, he was thousands years old.

“V, you clearly want something so just say it and get it over with, the less time I spend with you the saner I’ll remain.” Modulok stated tiredly knowing fully well conversations with V could be exhausting. He leaned on his right arm which he placed on the table.

“What? Come on, can’t a brother just want to hang out with his other clone brother from another mothership?...” Mod was unamused and unphased, in the pause and silence his expression did not change. “And also my dearest, most awesome, talented brother, who is a doctor... I could... use some of that reeeeeally good tastin’ medicine that only a certified medic like you can hand out.” Vultak gave him a smile and tilted his head.

Mod gave him an eye roll, “I am not handing you the pills!”

“Oh come on, Mod! This stuff’s getting out on the street anyway! You’re not upholding some moral high-ground, you’re not holding society together! Come on, please, just one.”

Modulok waved him off, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. And I’m not trying to up hold anything, I don’t care what happens out there, but it just so happens that when some stupid non-sense takes place out there it means I’ve got more work here.” In a way he was right, Modulok was the most famous medic from the Galactic Horde, known across countless galaxies, being a defect medic and a medic for defects, that increased his infamous status. If anyone, any clone was in need of aid they turned to him for help, to say Mod was busy would’ve been an understatement. “Don’t even get me started on those pills that Hordak and Dryl made, I have no idea what they were thinking.”

The Isle Pills. Small capsules of biochemical engineering, synthesized from the ‘infected’ ‘tainted’ plants of Beast Island. That was the way people described the island, there were many theories about the landmass, a lot of scary campfire stories, disputes about whether it even existed. Its existence was apparently confirmed by the Princess of Dryl. Something about backstabbing and being imprisoned on the island, the clones weren’t sure, and they didn’t care much. But the nature of the island had been kept secretive, partially perhaps because the lab-partners studying the location don’t know many thing about it either.

It is also to be noted that they, the pills, weren’t meant for wide spread public use, apparently the Drylian Princess herself was against the production of it. But somehow they got out. Modulok was sure Hordak wasn’t thrilled that his experimental treatment for his defection was being distributed like hot buns at a bakery sale.

The pills have an altering affect on the consumer’s mood and how they perceive reality. Where the island would have enraptured an individual in their own fears and insecurities, somehow those mad-scientists altered the effect of the flora to envelop the individual in numbness and sleep-like paralysis. Hordak no doubt developed the pills as a way of coping with his defection and all the pain that came with it. So the product became quite popular with other defects. Including V, to no surprise. The pills were addictive and seemingly untested, and someone was making a profit off of it no doubt.

“They probably weren’t thinking, that’s what! If you ask me that Hordak guy is insane. All his bad decisions always seem to bit us in the rear.” The infamous Hordak, a general from a previous life, a defect that was sent to the frontlines by Prime personally, some even have speculated that he was meant to be Prime’s next bodily vessel. So in a sick twisted way, that defect saved him. Funny how life works.

Hordak somehow ended up on Etheria, he doesn’t even know how, somehow he amassed a large following and took over half a continent, destroyed a lot in the process. People hate him, his face, and that means of course many weren’t thrilled about hundreds of thousands of clones falling from the sky and finding a home and shelter on Etheria. Honestly, Modulok didn’t like him much either. Vultak unlike Mod actually quite liked Hordak as he served under him once, V trusted him.

“Mod, they would’ve hated us with or without him at the helm, at the end of the day he’s one of us, the whole universe hates us, we gotta stick together.”

“Where’s your ‘screw everything’ mentality gone to?”

V downed his second glass and wiped his mouth, “Washed away and washed down...” V just stared at the now empty glass inspecting it suspiciously as if he was looking if the glass was withholding additional liquid from him. It became obvious that V was thinking, contemplating something, he placed the glass down with a ‘clink’ on the table. “...I’ve been getting the nightmares again. And it’s getting worse, it always does. It’s not long ‘til the nightmares start coming out during the day, while you’re awake.”

Modulok understood, of course he did. He too had went through some harrowing experiences, war is never a good thing for the mind. Mod was an excellent surgeon and doctor, he can do some miracles with scalpels and bandages, he could take care of physical wounds. But there were wounds and scars that he couldn’t heal.

Vultak continued, “Do you believe in karma, Mod?” The question gave the medic pause, he didn’t quite know how to answer that, and he was sure this was one of those questions you don’t answer as V was going to no doubt continue and give his own answer. But the short reply would’ve been ‘no’, Mod didn’t believe in any higher power or any metaphysical concepts such as fate or destiny, it all rather felt far-fetched to him. “That our actions and deeds from our previous lives affect and decides our fate and fortune in the future?

That the future takes roof in the past? You do good, you have good fortune, a good life awaits you. You do bad, you have bad fortune, hell’s coming your way. Revenge and retribution on a cosmic level. It’s the universe’s way of punishing the evil and the wicked, that’s us by the way.

And we do deserve it, don’t we. I mean we’re literally walking, breathing, war machines, our sole purpose was to destroy, perpetuate war and cause all around carnage.

Everyone always wants to blame Hordak for Etheria hating us, but every single one of us has had a part in conquering half the damn universe! Countless worlds either chained or turned to dust, all thanks to us, all of us.

All the terrible things we’ve done, and now what? We just get to have a happy ending? No. No, no, no. Karma’s just getting ready, reeling back, ready to backhand all of us to oblivion. We gotta suffer first... Karma’s balance, karma’s proportional. Which isn’t good for us since we did a lot of wrong-doings. Remember the Siege of Denebria, the War for Primus, the Taking of Trolla, the centuries-long Massacres at Epsilon-19, everyone wants to forget that hellscape death-trap. But we just can’t, some things claw their way back to the surface from below all that brainwashing-sauce.

And that’s just the horrid stuff we remember!... Can you imagine how many lives we’ve forgotten? How many years we’ve lost? How many people we’ve forgotten? That four eyed freak robbed us of everything that made us, us!... All that stuff’s gonna bite us in the back.”

Modulok simply listened, he was used to V’s rants and ravings, but all that... seemed different. Usually V made out everything to be a joke, never taking anything serious, he was a jokester. The nihilistic joker seemed to be subdued, some sort of seriousness, some existential dread on his face. Vultak was genuinely opening up to Mod, and he appreciated that. But it was a shame they had to get drunk first before having conversations like that.

Mod became gradually more worried as V continued with the dialogue, after he paused and just began to stare blankly at his glass again Modulok responded, “I appreciate you opening up, kind of, V, I just wish it didn’t take the influence of alcohol... [sigh] Look, V, I know tomorrow is never certain, and that we all carry the weight of scars on our brittle shoulders... but please believe me when I tell you, that everything will be okay, everything will get better. Don’t drown yourself in poison. The world’s not falling apart, and neither should you.” Mod placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, trying to comfort his friend.

Vultak simply looked up at his brother, his face blank, he knew Mod meant well, but it didn’t help much to comfort him. And so V hopelessly replied, uttering almost a warning, “Just you wait doc, the sky’s gonna come crashing down on our heads.”

#hordak #horde clones #horde prime

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emperorsfoot · 2 years

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Should the He-Man and the Masters of the Universe CGI TV-Series get a 4th Season or be made into a Movie, I can well Imagine the Fight between the Masters of the Universe and the Evil Horde. I mean after Hordak appeared in the End of Episode 8 from the 3rd Season of the Core/CGI Series, Because soon the Heroes of Eternia will have to Face the Evil Horde and I kinda know how it all Works. He-Man vs. Hordak, Battle Cat vs. Grizzlor, Man-at-Arms vs. Modulok, Stratos vs. Vultak!!!

Ideally, I'd like a 4th season. I feel like there'd just be too much to fit into one 90 minute movie. I need 10 episodes or more.

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virovac · 5 years

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Grieving in Shadows (Defrosted Hordak AU)

“Your scars… you are quite the ambitious person aren’t you?”, the woman stated with admiration.

“No need to hide them here. We cover up from others so as to not remind our foes of our mortality, but we should take pride in what we have survived.”

Those had been the words Mortella had spoken to her that had started everything.

Mortella had always had pride in her independence.

Despite Shadow Weaver making the then-young woman an ally of the Horde, she never got her to formally join.

The others were worried at her gall, but Shadow Weaver was able to soothe their fears.

And now her vice got her killed.

Why didn't she call for her aid to deal with the intruders?! For protection?!

Foolish woman! Foolish pride!

She would have sent her shadow servants immediately and sniffed out the Rebellion scum! Or Vultak with some warbeasts!

Now the only person who ever understood her...was gone

Mortella was like the fire she revered; something that while could be controlled, could never be fully tamed

Her ego could be stroked, but always dangerous.

Mortella was fuel, and Shadow Weaver and her Black Garnet were lightning.

Mortella provided the fuel, Shadow Weaver the spark.

Together they had created a source of power, The Emerald Flame, almost as powerful as a runestone!

And with that power the Horde was able to greatly expand their operations.

But now she was gone.

Mystacor was likely soon to fall into Rebellion hands.

The vast energies of the magical furnace Mortella had constructed were extinguished. The magical constructs that directly took power from it crumbled.

Uprisings were starting to crop up, but that was not Shadow Weaver's main concern.

The Rebellion had killed her.

More specifically, a new technologist in their ranks had controlled a robot to strike her from behind.

Hordak.

A former underling of Calix, and it appeared, a defector.

Calix said he was worthless, a failure sent to die in battle to redeem himself. His only use was intel in his brain from when he was higher ranked which could be useful to the Horde forces on Etheria.

Calix was now clearly laid out as the fool he was.

That "failure" had killed the woman she loved!

With the aid of the rest of the almost equally outraged council, they dragged out more information on who this "Hordak" was.

Calix was lower in esteem now. But she could not take any joy in this powerplay.

She had revenge to plan.

But what could she even take from a vicious outcast of the Horde, unfairly cast out?

A former Hordesman likely barely trusted by his allies, who's body was frail from being frozen in ice.

But then her shadow spies saw something peculiar as they lurked in the mutated forest below Mystacor in the days after.

A princess had arrived to greet Hordak; a fellow technologist.

They happily discussed the design of the machine that killed Mortella.

The vile murderers.They felt no guilt for what they had done.

Still,Shadow Weaver smiled under her mask. So Hordak had a collaborator? Someone almost equally as guilty?

The sorceress looked at the fools: they wore their emotions on their sleeves.

She would not merely deprive Hordak of this princess.

She would take them away from each other.

#shadow weaver (Spop)#defrosted hordak au #entrapdak

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