#well… as long as their beaks are connected to their mouths | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bethanythebogwitch · 3 months

Text

Wet Beast Wednesday: ocean sunfish

Everybody knows ocean sunfish, right? Those giant, slow, silly-looking, parasite-ridden morons that eat jellyfish and can't defend themselves from predators really are the worst fish right?

(GIF: Lex Luthor screaming "WRONG!" from the movie Superman Returns)

First of all there's no such thing as a "best" or "worst" animal and judging animals by human standards of what is cool or successful is silly because our standards are not even universal among humans, let along other species. Secondly, the closest thing we have to a way to judge a species is how successful it is in its niche and sunfish are doing pretty good, thank you very much. Today I'll be talking about sunfish and how they are not bad fish at all.

(Image: a Mola mola located near the surface of the ocean, with the tip of its dorsal fin and part of its head breaching the surface. It is a round fish with no tail, only a wrinkly region of its body. Its dorsal and anal fins are long and slender The eyes and mouth are proportionately small. It is a pale white with light grey spots. A SCUBA diver is visible in the background. End ID)

Ocean sunfish, or molas, are members of the family Molidae, which is divided into five known species across three genuses. Im mostly going to be talking about members of the genus Mola, but I'll mention the other two as well. Molas are known for their size and odd appearances, looking like someone chopped a fish in half and the front half went swimming off on its own. They are members of the order Tetraodontiformes, making them cousins to pufferfish, triggerfish, boxfish, and others. While many members of that order are known to be highly poisonous, molas are not. They also lack several other common traits. Despite being bony fish, most of the mola skeleton is made of cartilage and they do not have swim bladders, forcing them to actively swim to maintain their position in the water column. Instead of a tail and caudal fin, sunfish have a structure called the clavus. The clavus is formed mostly from connective tissue and is used as a rudder. Because the clavus is mostly made of connective tissue, damage to it is not particularly harmful to the fish. There have been molas found alive and well that have had portions of their clavus eaten by predators. Because of their shortened stature, molas have the fewest vertebrae of all fish. The dorsal and anal fins are elongated and are used to provide propulsion by flapping back and fourth similarly to how birds wings move, albeit slower. Minute alterations in the angle each fin moves through the water help with steering, while more sharp turns are aided with jets of water ejected through the mouth and gills. Like their other Tetraodintid relatives, mola teeth are fused together into a beak-like structure that prevents them from closing their mouths. They also have some more regular pharyngeal teeth in the backs of their mouths. Some reports say that the fish can make noises by grinding the pharyngeal teeth together. Mola skin is thick and rough, described as being similar to sandpaper in texture. Like most fish, the skin is covered in a layer of protective mucus.

(Image: a mola sunbathing. It is positioned with one side of its body facing the surface. Its body is just under the water's surface. End ID)

The three species in the genus Mola are Mola mola, the ocean sunfish and most well-known of the molas, Mola alexandrini, the giant, southern, or bumphead mola, and Mola tecta, the hoodwinker sunfish. Mola mola has an average weight of 247 to 1000 kg (545 to 2205 lbs), mouth to clavus length of 1.8 m (5.9 ft) and dorsal to anal fin length of 2.5 m (8.2 ft), though some individuals can get much large. The largest individual on record had a length of 3.3 m (10.8 ft), height of 3.2 m (10.5 ft) and weighed 2300 kg (5100 lbs). M. alexandrini is the largest of the species. The largest known southern sunfish measured in at 2744 kg (6049 lbs) and 3.25 m (10.66 ft) from mouth to clavus, making it the largest known bony fish in the world. They can be distinguished from M. mola by the presence of bumps on the forehead and chin, a more rounded clavus, and differently-shaped scales. M. tecta is known as the hoodwinker sunfish because it was long mistaken for one of the other two species and was only identified as a separate species in 2015 after the body of one washed up in Christchurch, Aotearoa/New Zealand and was examined by scientists. Because it has only recently been discovered, little is known about this species. They appear to have the same range of sizes and weights of the other two species and can be distinguished by a slimmer body shape and a smooth clavus. All three species are found in tropical and temperate waters worldwide, though M. alexandrini and M. tecta are more commonly found in the southern hemisphere.

(Image: a Mola alexandrini underwater. It is distinguishable from Mola mola by the two bumps above and below its facial region, making it look lumpy. It is surrounded by striped cleaner fish. A SCUBA diver is in the background. End ID)

(Image: a Mola tecta seen from the side. It is smoother than the other two species. More of its body is grey with white spots. End ID)

Molas are open-ocean dwellers that live life in the slow lane. For a long time, it was believed they were moved around by ocean currents they could not swim against, making them plankton. We now know they not only can swim against the current, they are capable of bursts of speed fast enough to breach the water's surface and briefly go airborne. Sunfish are named for their habit of basking at the surface of the water. It was formerly believed they spent most of their time at the surface, but thanks to tagging, we know they make frequent dives into the deep ocean. They likely bask at the surface to warm up between dives. You may not expect something as slow as a sunfish to be a predator, but they are. Much of their diet consists of gelatinous animals including jellyfish, siphonophores, ctenophores, and salps, though they will also eat small fish, fish larvae, squids, crustaceans, and even seagrass. Because they can't chew, sunfish move prey into and out of their mouth by rapidly switching between sucking water in and spitting it out in order to shred the prey into pieces small enough to swallow. Special mucus lining the digestive system may protect the molas from the stinging tentacles of their prey. Molas and other jellyfish-eaters like the leatherback sea turtle play an important role in the ecosystem by keeping jellyfish populations down. Jellyfish are not particularly nutritious, so the sunfish need to eat a lot of them to survive, something they seem to be pretty good at. Being slow and having a very low-energy lifestyle helps the fish survive on a less-nutritious diet, making them very energy efficient. One thing molas get a lot of flack for online is having lots of parasites (with up to 40 known species). This doesn't really make sense. Every species has parasites. An animal in the wild that doesn't have parasites is vanishingly rare. Having parasites doesn't make an animal suck, it makes them ordinary. Because of their parasite load, molas are frequent visitors to cleaner fish, who will eat their parasites. Molas will also let seabirds land on them and eat their parasites while they rest on the surface. The molas attract birds by splashing at the surface. Adult molas have few natural predators, but are hunted by sharks, sea lions, and orcas. Interestingly, sea lions have been known to kill molas apparently for sport, ripping off the fins and then leaving the mola to die.

(Image: a mola seen from the front. Multiple smaller fish are picking parasites off of its skin. End ID)

Molas are broadcast spawners who release their gametes into the water alongside each other. A female mola can release 300 million eggs at a time, more than any other vertebrate. Newly hatched sunfish are 2.5 millimeters long and are often cited as having the largest discrepancy in size between juvenile and adult of any vertebrate. An adult mola can be 60 millions times the weight of a larva. The larvae look very different than adult, lacking their dorsal and anal fins but having pufferfish-like spines. Juveniles school together for protection and become solitary as they age. The diet of the fish varies as they age, with younger fish feeding more on squid, worms, crustaceans, and fish but becoming more reliant on jellyfish and other gelatinous prey as they age. We don't know the growth rate of molas, but a juvenile in the Monterey Bay Aquarium grew from 26 to 339 kg (57 to 880 lbs) in 15 months, suggesting they grow rapidly. The maximum age of molas is unknown, though individuals in captivity have lives for up to 10 years.

(Image: a mola larva. It is a brown ball with large, black eyes and no visible fins. It is covered in transparent, conical spines. End ID)

The two non-Mola sunfish are Ranzania laevis, the slender sunfish and Masturus lanceolatus, the sharptail sunfish. Both are alone in the genuses, but other species are suspected. I also found references to other species in Masturus, but could find literally no information about them other than that Masturus oxyuropterus is listed in some records. The sharptail sunfish looks very similar to Mola mola and reaches similar sizes, but its clavus has an extension that looks like a short tail. They were initially believed to be deformed molas before being recognized as a separate species. Unlike molas, sharptail sunfish are rarely seen at the surface, preferring to stay in deeper water. The slender sunfish is the smallest of the family, reaching up to a meter long. While we don't know much about them, we know their diet includes a lot of fast-moving squid, indicating they can move faster than their much larger relatives.

(Image: a sharptail sunfish lying on a blue tarp. It looks similar to a Mola mola , but with black clavus and fins. At the back of the clavus is a triangular extension. End ID)

(Image: a person holding a slender sunfish. The fish is small enough to be held and has a longer and skinnier body than other sunfish. Its body is a shiny silver with blue lines. End ID)

Mola mola is classified as vulnerable by the IUCN while the other species are classed as either data deficient or least concern. Molas are vulnerable to strikes by boats and bycatch. Another danger to them is plastic bags, which can easily be ingested after being mistaken for a jellyfish. The bags can suffocate the fish or block their digestive tracts. Despite their size, molas are docile and not dangerous to humans. I found one example of a mola harming a human and it happened when the fish jumped out of the water and landed on a boat. Allegedly, some fish have learned to recognize and approach SCUBA divers. Molas are difficult to keep in captivity due to their size, the amount of space the need, and special feeding needs, so only a few aquariums have them. Molas are captured for food, with the biggest markets being in Taiwan and Japan, where they are often called mambos.

(Image: a SCUBA diver attempting to hand feed a small mola. End ID)

171 notes · View notes

my-writings-and-musings · 1 year

Note

Earthspark Frenzy, Ravage, and Laserbeak start to notice that Soundwave (Aka their dad) becoming a bit more…’friendly’ with their human ally (*wink wink*). One morning, after Soundwave and the human had gone away on an ‘mission’ and and just returned to their little base in the early hours of the morning when they though the cassettes would still be in recharge, but they thought wrong. Frenzy decides to be a little shit and asks, “So~ does that mean we can except a little brother or sister sometime soon?”

I wheezed out loud at this one and then started thinking about it and now I want to write this and a whole host of other Earthspark fics invoicing human/bot babies. Thank you very much for this anon, I've been waiting for a reason Hehehehehehe...

(Headcanon Note; I fully imagine bots can knock up humans with lil bot babies that grow into full size Cybertronians. Partly because I like the idea of the Allspark creating a species that can reproduce universally as some kind of all-life-is-connected thing, and also because I just prefer alien to human babies.)

Apologies for the tangent, now on with the story! I hope you enjoy, and if you like my writing style you can always commission me!

"Wassup?"

Hearing Frenzy's voice surprised you out of your light doze, and you snapped your head up to find the three Minis up and awake in the tiny "kitchen" you'd all set up in the main area of the bunker. Soundwave acknowledged his Cassetes with a nod, just as tired as you were after the mission that had dragged into the early morning hours. Seated atop his shoulders, you did the same, waving and trying not to yawn as you rubbed the sleep from your tired eyes.

"Morning, everyone..." you greeted as warmly as you could, grumbling stomach reminding you why you hadn't asked to head straight for the bedroom to pass out. Soundwave raised a cupped servo for you to crawl into, his sharp claws curling protectively about your tiny form as he dropped to one knee and set you down. You were too tired to care how your hand lingered on his after grabbing on for support, and found yourself smiling up at him in a bit of a daze.

"I will initiate recharge. Join me after your rations." he said simply, utilizing a much broader vocabulary for you as he often did. Frenzy made a sound like a cough, and in the corner of your eye you saw her quickly put down a cup of energon to clear her vents. Soundwave left at that, and you set about pouring yourself a bowl of cereal for some much needed breakfast before bed. Just thinking of curling up in your little spot in the crook of his arm had you struggling to keep your eyes open...

"Back so late you're early, huh Y/N?" Frenzy asked after you'd fetched what you needed, briefly confusing your tired brain before you put her words together. Sitting down at the little salvaged table, you sat opposite the three and tried to stir up enough neurons to be conversational.

"You could say that. The mission took a bit longer than we planned, but we got what we needed." you explained, trying to stay conscious long enough to pour milk over your cereal.

"We weren't too worried. The two of ya have been spending a lot of quality time together of late, we were sure you were using the night well." Laserbeak added, bobbing his helm in confirmation. There seemed to be the faintest hint of a grin on his beak, but you didn't look too deeply into the expression, even as Frenzy snorted at his words. It was quite normal for them to be amused by their own antics, so you were hardly suspicious, and didn't even notice Ravage observing you in silence.

"Guess you can't wait to get back the berth." Frenzy continued, smirking over her glass as you shoveled cereal into your mouth. Not reading into any of their questions, you nodded, thinking of how Soundwave would probably be recharging by the time you joined him. It would feel incredible to just sink in with your blankets and pillows and sleep next to his warm frame. "You two must love sharing that thing."

"Yeah, no point in wasting space." you agreed as you got to the milk at the bottom, thinking purely in literal terms thanks to sleep deprivation. A single glance would have allowed you to see that Frenzy was biting her lip to keep her giggles in check while Laserbeak did much the same, all while Ravage tried to pretend he wasn't affiliated with either of them, but you merely continued talking without a thought. "It's at such a premium down here, we're practically on top of each other half the time."

This time you recognized the sound Frenzy made as a barely restrained chuckle, but when you looked up for clarification, it was Laserbeak that spoke.

"For you and Soundwave, it's way more than half." he said with a snicker. Though their double meaning was so obvious you should have caught on straight away, all you had the capacity to do was tilt your head over your cereal, the wheels of your brain doing their best to try and figure out why these bots were acting so strange.

"What?" you pressed, your direct question coming just as Ravage swatted his tail at the avian bot.

"Nothing." Laserbeak replied with mock innocence after ignoring the hit, grin never once leaving his beak.

"He's just goofing around." Frenzy said to calm your concerns, waving off the other mini in a good natured tease. Figuring they were all just involved in a game, you shrugged and brought the bowl to your lips to finish, getting about halfway through the sweetened milk before the cassette broke the silence.

"But for real, when can we expect a little brother or sister?"

You half choked on the milk and sprayed the rest over the table, eyes bulging as you finally understood everything that had been implied up to that point.

504 notes · View notes

weirdmarioenemies · 1 year

Photo

Name: Plungelo

Debut: Super Mario Sunshine

Whadda hell. Plungelo. This thing is so wacky! It feels like a weird mishmosh of unrelated parts and that’s wonderful! A red orb with enormous unmoving eyespots, a weird lip-like beak, toilet plunger feet, and a sprout on its head like in Among Us! But is Plungelo the impostor?

By that I mean, is it a real creature, or simply made by Bowser Jr.’s goop, like many of the Sunshine enemies are said to be? I don’t know! But I don’t think it matters. I never much liked the “Sunshine enemies are created by the paintbrush” idea. Like, where are all of Isle Delfino’s native creatures, in that case? Cataquacks seem to be native, but they turn into goop when defeated. And why do even the Yoshis disintegrate in water here? Maybe some or even most of the enemies are made by Bowser Jr., but I like to think they depict real creatures. I want them to be real! I understand if Goobles are Goop Exclusive but the others should be real!

So, I believe Plungelo is a Real Animal. A real animal with a sprout on its head so that it may mutualistically gain energy through photosynthesis! Why would a real animal evolve plungers for feet? Why, for walking on flat glass, of course! Or maybe for plunging burrowing prey out of holes in the sand? Plungelo loooves to walk on glass, it loves it so bad. It’s literally the only context they are found in! They are causing a scene by walking on the Gelato Beach mirrors, preventing them from incubating the legendary Sand Bird egg!

But it’s not just them. They’re in cahoots with the Wiggler sleeping on the egg, it seems, since both appear at the same time, both messing with the egg! And we GOTTA talk about this Wiggler because it is so important to whatever the heck is going on here.

The more common Wigglers found in the Mushroom Kingdom, Dinosaur Land, and other places are yellow, and the spots on their segments are rather irregularly placed. THIS one, though! The spots on EVERY segment are right on the sides!

Just like the eyes (?) of Plungelo and its cousin Cataquack! Fittingly, both of their Japanese names include “hana”, from Wiggler’s Japanese name! There is clearly a connection between these wacky creatures and this Wiggler. What is it?

This particular Wiggler is able to fall apart into segments unharmed! Could this be the origin of Plungelo and Cataquack? Maybe all the same species, and different points of the same life cycle! Maybe this Wiggler is the beginning, and then, like a strobilating cnidarian, this individual gives rise to many genetically identical individuals- the Cataquacks! As Cataquacks develop, the previously-dormant symbiotic plant on their head sprouts, which will someday become the Wiggler’s flower!

Cataquack’s long beak shrinks into a smaller mouth, which will aid it in its new ecological niche as a Plungelo: its newly developed suction cup feet allow it to climb certain surfaces, where it tries to stay high up so that its sprout gets constant sun! They are particularly drawn to reflective surfaces like mirrors and windows, so they can get as much light as possible. Plungelo, after having eaten a large amount, as well as having nurtured its sprout until it bloomed, will now have enough energy in reserve to hibernate! As it does, its final transformation into Wiggler occurs, and it begins growing a chain of segments that will be the next generation.

But then why is it so green? And why do these segments lack mouths and tails? Maybe this one was “undercooked”! It had not been sleeping there very long before Mario got involved. It’s mad, because it was SO close to finally completing its life cycle!

When defeated, this Wiggler turns into sand. It was made of sand all along? Surely there’s a good explanation for that, right? It’s too bad this post is getting oh so long! Goodbye!

#plungelo #cataquack #wiggler #super mario sunshine #mario #mario enemies #mod chikako

201 notes · View notes

pvrkacciosan · 5 months

Text

The Heart of the Lioness: ☽⋆30⋆☾

Hearts be Sold

The Heart of the Lioness Masterlist

Previous Part

Enola didn't require more then a second to react as Brielle moved forward, wrapping her spy up in a hug that popped a bubble in her spine, Brielle knew they didn't have long, Connall giving her a much time as possible, so Brielle pulled away after a few seconds.

She stayed holding onto Enola's arms, the female lightly coloured hair, which matched the feathers of her owl form was silken smooth and long, hanging loosely over her shoulders.

"I need you to gather information for me"

Enola's smile met her eyes, beaming widely, "I thought you'd never ask." She too kept grip of Brielle's forearm, eyes wild with a fire of excitement and relief,

"I need you to listen, find out if Maeve knows any other fire wielder's within the world." Brielle sighed heavily, "I don't want to turn to Bronwyn unless I have to."

Enola frowned, "You thinking about world walking to find help?"

Brielle could have chewed up the inside of her own mouth in thought, "I don't know if it would work, but If Aelin needs me to. I'll go." Enola's expression shifted uneasily at the thought, "I don't believe anything good ever comes from world walking." Unease coiled in her gut, The same it had when Baba Yellowlegs had found her in that mountain pass almost a decade ago.

"Yeah well. We need more fire." Brielle had not been able to fall sleep whilst thinking of Aelin's request. If anyone could find a hidden Fire wielder, it would be the Pride. Through any means necessary. "I want it to be a last resort." Going to Isaiah's mate for help, should be their last resort.

A quirk of curiosity shied its way into Enola's expression, "Have you heard much from my brother?" Brielle's thoughts wandered to her twin brother, the almost polar opposite to his sister, The Lord and the Messenger had always been a continent apart, for centuries. Brielle had been unable to unite them, but connect them and communicate for them: She could do.

"Last I heard he was wandering close to Terrasen's southern borders. Stirring up a rebellion there no doubt."

Enola finally nodded, moving to go back towards the window when the conversation shifted,

"I also need you to take this" Brielle reached into a drawer at the desk, Enola extended a hand to take it,

"You know what to do with it."

Enola flipped it, seeing the Lioness' paw print on the other side of the envelope she nodded. She turned for the window, exhaling deeply into the cool breeze blowing in from outside. Before a flash of light consumed the room, the owl hovered beating its wings to stay steady in the air.

Brielle met her eyes, "Stay safe."

Enola's eyes narrow, snapping her beak once, as though to remind Brielle that she had gotten this far, with a couple beats of her wings, Enola dropped from the window, letting the updraft of wind catch her wings, driving herself into a dive when she tucked them to her side. Her small body vanishing in the shadow that crested the side of the building.

Brielle pulled the window shut, Enola could take care of herself. Her brother more so. She turned back towards the bed in the middle of her room.

She would spend the next few hours sieving through reports from the coastal fight at the Marshes. It was vital, she knew it in her bones, but she was yet to find something that could give her leverage.

She got through one paper before Connall appeared once more, shutting the door softly behind him. Brielle sat up from her place on the floor, moving the papers around from her lap.

"Did she suspect anything?"

Connall dropped to the ground beside her, taking up more space as he outstretched his legs. Fucking Fae males and their height.

"You're messing up my organised piles," she leaned forward to slap his leg lightly,

Connall chuckled lowly at the back of his throat, rolling onto his back, and onto the pile she had already been through— mixing the papers up. Brielle dropped the page from her hand, scowling at the male,

"Don't think she caught on." he rolled over them again and finally sat up. Brielle had already scrunched up a random half blank page and chucked it at his face when he rightened himself up.

"Hey!" he tried to swat it away when it smacked him,

"You are going to help sort through all of these" she hissed, already moving to re-right the pages in their piles.

Connall chuckled once more, before he began helping. Watching her as they cleaned up together.

Brielle had arisen before sunrise, moving through the dark to the camp surrounding the city. She didn't expect any of the group to be there by the time she arrived at the fighting pit in the centre of the camp.

But she would admit to that shock when the whole group stood around watching each other warm up at her arrival. They all stopped, some panting for breathe, Regrouping they watched her approach in silence. Perhaps curious to why the Commander of Maeve's spy court had overtaken their training. They all looked cold to hell in their training clothes, despite their bodies steaming from their own warm up.

Brielle scanned each of them, trying to commit the details of their faces to memory. She paused on the female who's face was already engraved into her memories. There was the urge to ask them of their names, but apart of her, perhaps the only sane part left, refused to go through the pain of knowing them should she come to fighting them. Having to kill them.

"Lets get started."

The group didn't move, Brielle walked forward. Clasping her hand together, Today she wasn't the Lioness, or a commander. She was a teacher, hoping to impart her wisdom to them, should they be smart enough to pay attention.

"I want to assess each of you." She stepped closer to the middle fighting ring, gesturing to the space before her "Who's up first?" she beckoned with an arm when none of them moved from their places. A horde of status, She huffed a deep sigh.

It might have become a reoccurring theme for their paths to cross one another; The female who's face Brielle had already fully committed to memory the moment she had managed to land a punch. Stepping forward from the group she already had a hardened expression stoning her features. The group parted and watched her walk away from them,

Everyone of them watched her intently, looks of longing following her as she drew closer to the fighting pit. If Brielle could gain her trust, she might just convince the others to follow.

Brielle eased back a few paces, opening the ring to the female. As she took that final step over the barrier, foot planting into the sand. Brielle moved. There was no point to play a waiting game between them, no time to let her prepare. The fates of those who hesitate in a fight was already decided for them, Death is simple it doesn't discriminate.

The female looked stunned reeling back on her weight with widening eyes as Brielle threw the first punch. The blow hit dead on its mark, the warriors in the group surrounding them inhaled sharply at the sound that rippled within their friends shoulder.

It sagged low out the socket, Brielle swung again, attentively watching how the limb stiffened in the females attempt to ease the next blow. She hissed though tightly clenched teeth, twisting to guard her face with her working arm. She was quick to drive that elbow back. Brielle had preempted this, she swung back on her heels, narrowly avoiding the strike that would have send her temple throbbing.

The female dropped and rolled across the ground avoiding Brielle, began supporting the unmoving arm as she back up to the edge of the circle.

"Why did you come back? Word is you all betrayed for some foreign child who claims to be fae royalty." She breathed heavily, circling the fighting pit. Her words lacked the bite Brielle was looking for, choosing to ignore the insult that had been directed for Aelin, Brille stayed still.

She watched, from the centre of the ring, listening to the crunch of sand beneath the feet of her opponent,

"Some say the Lioness has a mate-" Brielle tracked her movement watching over the curve of her own shoulder, " in Doranelle. One which she has come back for." The words were heavier than any punch this female would every throw.

Brielle allowed her magic to coil, welcomed its warmth in her hands from deep within her, it poured fueling a heat inside her chest.

The female now stalking dangerously close didn't seem to notice the tang of power. The group around the ring shifted unsteadily watching from every angle of the fight. Brielle turned over her shoulder, magic reeling around her form. Tracking the female with her eyes low. The magic shadowed her.

"Yeah" her own voice cracked the early morning air. The female paused, now positioned directly before the Lioness. Brielle drew her chin up, felt a muscle in her jaw tick "Maeve has Fenrys Moonbeam locked up beneath the castle."

The group paused, the female was stunned into silence, a pre-natural stillness at the realisation that Brielle had denied nothing, was so wrapped up in this new truth she hadn't felt the magic taking root around her ankles, climbing through ever vein and cell within her; an ivy that tightened a deathly grip.

By the time she startled at its presence, stumbling back to look down at herself. Before she could realise the rising pounding in her head was force upon her by the Lioness; her vision blurred followed quickly by a trickle of blood that drained from her nose.

Brielle eagerly watched, allowing more power to flow through her, from her. When the female swayed on unstable feet, Brielle breezed no more then half a stride. A well positioned strike knocked the female backwards onto her ass, sprawling to crawl away in the sand.

The commander did not advance further.

"That's cheating!" the female spat out, blinking wildly at the blood on her hand once she wiped the space between her nose and upper lip.

"Did I explain any rules?" The whole group stayed silent in response of Brielle's question. "Didn't think so. In a fight never assume your enemy won't go to any length to kill you."

Brielle allowed a paused for her words to be heard, let them strike the group hard with their weight, turning back to the female she tracked her magic— let it pool and pour into her sagging shoulder. "You're out." The females expression had infused to an ashen colour under Brielle's stare.

With her words of finality, Brielle eased to face the main group once more, clicking her fingers she let her power snap the females dislocated joint back into place.

Brielle waited for the screaming and cries of agony to diminish behind her before addressing the group, "So, Who's next?"

For the next hour Brielle fought ever member of the group, To their best efforts they threw everything they had in their set of skills at her. But every time she still came out standing. After they all went once, she made them go a second time, hopeful for some improvement.

She was highly disappointed.

"I though Maeve's captains might have trained you to at least defend yourself for longer then each of you lasted." She strides a step towards them, "Clearly they do not hold your lives in such a high regard."

Half the group had already sought refuge on the solid ground, their limbs too heavy to hold their own weight up, others sat further away, still within earshot, attending to their injuries. At her words, heads swiveled to scowl in her direction, she flicked a hand at them.

"Be here again tomorrow, same time."

Their expressions only darkened at her directions, lips pulled back in half snarls they didn't quite commit to. Brielle stayed long after they left, stalling to watch them all walk or limp away. This might be more difficult than she thought.

The next morning was cooler then the last. This time around, Brielle stood waiting at the edge of the camp's main training field for the group to arrive.

When they spotted her form, bundled in clothes that would shield her from the chilling bite to the air, but not an easy outfit to fight in they couldn't help but stare on in confusion. She was not dressed for fighter, or even training for that matter. They didn't drop their frowns even as they slowed on their approach.

Brielle smiled softly, counting each member silently in her mind, she hadn't lost anyone from yesterdays session— yet. They stopped before, shuffling out so they could all watch her from where they stood.

"After yesterday. I've decided upon a different approach." she dropped the smile,

She couldn't ignore the resentment that began to line across each of their faces. It was an art form to not scoff at that fact. They would have to learn to live with that resentment because after today, they certainly weren't going to like her.

The group didn't speak a word, as one by one they seemed to track a movement behind her. Brielle smiled at Connall as he stilled slowly to a stop beside her. He returned the expression, extending the reins of the mare he lead out to her. The Horse adjusted her stance as Brielle pulled her closer.

Connall nodded to her once, eyeing up the group with an amused expression that pulled his face into a smile that hurt Brielle's chest. It was an expression Fenrys wore with pride when around her, Brielle glanced to the ground at her feet. She was doing this to help him, hep them all. She needed to focus.

When she looked back up, Connall had already began to walk back along the path he had taken to arrive in the field.

Brielle ignored the groups uneasy glances, they blinked at one another while she fitted one foot into a stirrup, grabbing for the pommel at the front of the saddle, Brielle pulled herself up mounting onto the mare's back.

If she had to break this group to square one in order to build them back up, then so be it. Kicking the mare into a quick trot, she spoke over her shoulder,

"Keep up." As she began setting the pace, the mare throwing her head backwards as Brielle controlled her speed, she smiled at the sound of footfall beyond the noise of the hoofs below her.

After every ten minutes that passed with the group following, Brielle leading them on a run around the camps surrounding the whole city, she began to quicken the pace. Continued to push them all to the point of which their immortal speed began to eat away at their energy.

By the time the whole group made it back, they had fallen into each other, collapsing onto the ground and leaning into each other in exhaustion, seeking support when Brielle offered none. Dismounting she gripped the reins at her side, giving the mare a few scratches along her nose.

"Meet an hour later tomorrow."

When she had nothing more to say to the group, who looked about ready to fall asleep where they dropped. Brielle led the mare away feeling the scathing looks that were shot at her back. She didn't react to a single one of them.

Brielle repeated the same session the next day and the next, and the day after that and the two following that. During each session she made then go faster, pushing them to run further and each day they started an hour later then the last. Many passing warriors stopped to stare at the Lioness astride the dark chestnut mare, leading the front of the group.

The routine never changed once, neither did the groups dislike for her. But they never utter any words in protest despite the swearing and mumbles of exhaustion when their bodies were pushed to near breaking point day after day. In the opposite their distaste for her only seemed to grow the more time she spent with them.

Brielle waited at the outer edge of the camp's training field, watching the other groups as they trained, honing their bodies to become the ultimate weapon. She didn't recall how long she stood observing. It had become somewhat of a ritual to watch the other groups, to the details of how they treated others around them.

A broad shouldered male in the third mat, showed zero to no mercy to his fellow warriors, laughing as he kicked them to black and blue, disregarding that they looked about ready to tap out. Brielle glanced down to make a note in the parchment she kept concealed inside her pocket. Folding it once she finished her writings for the day, turning she moved off toward the side her group had claimed a corner. A quiet side where she could easily watch them train.

She slowed in her pace upon noticing the general absence of the whole group. They had never been a group who's time management was particularly bad unlike some warriors she has trained in the past. Perhaps they had finally decided to forgo her training, their dislike for her having won over. Brielle knew it was only a matter of time, but she had hoped for a day or two more.

She slowed to almost a stop to scan the open empty section of the field. Brielle moved to search for the group else where in the camp when a familiar female figure darted out from behind the supply tent at that edge of their corner. She was the youngest and the smallest person in the group, she had gotten to be one of the fastest but even now she stumbled in her dash.

When she pushed off the ground with both palms, dragging herself upright her eyes locked onto Brielle, who had begun in her direction once more.

Brielle continued to close the gap between them, in the same moments as two male figure Brielle didn't recognised burst from the direction the female had come from.

As if the scent alone wasn't enough to expose the female hammering panic, Brielle's brush of her magic across the females body was enough to skyrocket herself to scowl at the males.

When the female finally reached her, uttering not a word beyond her panic pants and terrified expression that seemed to pull the lines of her face taut under its tension ageing her about five years. She hide behind Brielle's frame. Through her clothing she felt the female clutch the fabric covering her back, Her warm breath still anting against her spine.

The males were grinning, a sleezy smile that only reminded Brielle of one other— Cairn. Squaring out her shoulders, blocking the female entirely from their view.

"Where is that wench—" the shorter of the two males barked his words, that smile never once leaving him. It had become clear the excitement on his face flipped Brielle's stomach.

The female tightened her already balled fists further into Brielle's back.

"Stop hiding you little bitch" the other males side-stepped to glance around Brielle, The Lioness mirrored him, keeping the female behind her hidden.

"She deserves a good beating, No one tells me no."

A spark of power shot to the surface, tingling into her fingers. Brielle smiled a simple gesture which only seemed to anger the males further, when he lurched forward in an effort to swing around Brielle and grab the female, he was thrown back smacking into a force of power.

"I will give you both one chance to walk away" There was no bite in her tone, almost beckoning them to chance their luck. The shorter of the two glanced to his friend on the floor, brow shot up into his hairline, a dagger slid down into his hand, Brielle waited for him to wield it.

It was simple to attach her magic to the nerves in his harm. So when he reeled an arm back to throw the dagger, Brielle leashed in her power, electrical signals were rerouted in his nervous system. His arm swung low, hand twisting to stab the dagger into his own thigh.

His howl of pain only seemed to draw attention. Hands flying to his leg, he wrapped a hand around the dagger blade, blood coating his hands within seconds. At least he was smart enough to not pull it out in pained panic, for she had aimed straight for his artery.

"Commander Brielle." The one on the ground, lip bleeding seethed her title.

Brielle mustered the sweetest smile she could, bowing slightly at the waist, "The one and only."

Keeping bowed, Brielle glanced up through the cover of her lases, allowed for that small swirl of power that had wrapped itself around her wrist to evade into the space before the male. His nostrils flared at the hint of magic, Kicked at the ground when it's heat licked up his leg curling around the boned curve of his ankle. The power pulling itself into the muscle, seizing it within its painful grasp, cramping the muscle.

He cried out, swaying to his feet hauling his companion's arm around his shoulder, Brielle smirked when he almost dropped his friends weight when her power constricted his muscles like a snake around its prey. They limped away together, The commander waited for them to skitter off the side of the field before turning to address the female behind her.

The small warrior now before her, had hidden from danger. Cowered away just as Brielle had taught them to do the opposite. The female flinched when Brielle settled her stare on her, Down casting her gaze with a wince to avoid the scrutinising look she assumed the commander now shot her way.

She hadn't expected the gentle comforting stroke of a hand against her hair, smoothing down across the side of her face. She couldn't stop herself from blinking at the Lioness in surprise.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" there was a command and worry in Brielle's tone that she didn't try to hide, worrying for the younger Fae before her. She continued to gape, jaw falling lose as she stuttered for a response, nodding when the words did not formulate themselves.

"Elle!"

Brielle dropped her hand to the jutting bone of Elle's shoulder, marking the movement of the group that slowed in their haste to the duo's side.

Elle shot an unsure glance between Brielle and the group, The Commander narrowed her stare at the remaining group, folding her arms across her chest.

"You're all late. Where have you been?" Somewhere within her worry Brielle had misplaced her anger, the power still thundering under her surface cracked into the air like an uncontrolled storm cloud of lightening, the group backed slightly into one another "Why did not one of you come to her aid whilst those bastards hunted her." For that is what they had been doing, animals playing with their next meal.

The group startled, confusions rippled across their faces. Brielle waited a beat, expected a response.

"They-" Elle hesitated, eyes flicking back and forth between her friends and the commander. She began picking the skin on her fingers. Brielle marked the switch in the group, finally noticed the blood and bruises that littered across faces and bodies.

Whipping back to Elle, Brielle carefully pried the females hands apart, Elle's eyes were bloodshot when they flicked to meet her own.

"They were distracting the others. So I could get away." Brielle didn't need to get any confirmation, not when the evidence was marred across them, their bodies made to look lie canvases of blooming colours.

The Lioness straightened, "Who is these 'others' ?"

"It's another one of the units, Captained by Zakurio"

She thought as much, remembering the vile Captain from the first ship she ventured into in the marshes the night before . . . Everything. Brielle swallowed ignoring the memories from that beach, She subtly rubbed two fingers along the ridge from the scar on her abdomen.

Brielle nodded, turning from the group to face the rest of the field, she wasn't going to pry into their secrets, Stealing and forcing them to come out was not a way to gain trust. Brielle needed them to want to tell her, to trust her enough to do so.

"You are all dismissed. Training is cancelled for the day." She began marching for the line of tents surrounding the camp's training field.

"What are we supposed to do then?" an uncertain voice of a male called out behind her, reaching for the retreating commander.

"Drink, Gamble, Fuck I don't particularly care, Just stay away from that other unit." Her words were final, they were also the only ones that managed to make it through the barrier of her barreling thoughts. A calculating spiral of secrets and schemes the Gods of this world themselves wouldn't be able to predict.

Later that day when the group ventured into the city walls, in search of a tavern to spend their afternoon, to enjoy their time with one another, They hadn't anticipated the silence that would greet them upon arrival.

They also hadn't expected for Zakurio's other unit laying half lifeless in the middle of the tavern, other patrons in the building had moved to the corners of the room, edging from the events that had spiralled moments before the groups arrival.

They frowned at the unit on the ground, many of them in various stages of unconsciousness.

Brielle nodded at her group, dusting both hands off on the muscle of her thigh. Stepping over the bodies at her feet, leaving the carnage in her wake, She strolled past the group stunned into surprise by the door. Easing around them to leave. The silence eating up the room's shock.

The next day when the training resumed as normal, the group uttered not a complaint or shot a soured expression as the Lioness made them run double their usual amount.

Brielle dragged both hands down her face, she wasn't nearing a burnout but she could feel the well of power tugging her into a draught of exhaustion.

Hunting down the unit and acquainting herself with them in the tavern had been the most thrilling thing she had done since being released a couple weeks ago. She couldn't shake the guilt that ate away, a raw feeling that made her mind numb to the most basic of interactions.

Her body yearned for the touch of her mates, The company of his brother only made the ache grow. Connall knew, there was no way he couldn't. Not when there was moments when Brielle couldn't meet his gaze, or be around his presence, it only aided in making the pain in her chest triple.

The hallways leading to their sleeping quarters was deathly quiet, as it so often was. Not many people had reason to venture down here, especially since the room occupants hadn't returned. Brielle's heart throbbed while she passed the fading scent of her brother, his door meters from her own.

Looking to the door of her room now, Brielle stilled. The door swung ajar, despite her locking it ever time she left, She crept along the wall, hugging her body into it to avoid the creaking floorboards in the middle line of the hall.

Pulling her magic from the dept of that well, Brielle pushed the door open wide. Freezing in the doorway at the sight that filled and greeted her like a strike to the jaw.

Connall's eyes flared wide when she spotted him. She honed her attention in on the knife held to his throat, it tightened when he shifted to be closer to her.

She didn't need to look to know who held it there. Not hen she had gifted that knife to him. Isaiah's expression was emotionless, displaying nothing beyond the void it had become to be. A shadow of the male he had once been.

Power weighed into her hands a she leveled her gaze to the figure sat on the edge of her bed. Cairn was grinning, chuckling as he flipped through a stack of papers in his lap.

"Well, Look what we have here"

Every cell of blood left her feeling cold as Cairn's excited expression met hers, holding the captains reports up for her to see.

The Lioness failed to keep her mind calm, giving way to the rising panic when she realised Cairn had found all the reports under her bed. She couldn't breath past the lump in her throat, tried to swallow it away.

"This is going to be fun."

Cairn's voice made ever scar left by him on her body seize.

. . .

Taglist: @dreamiezpsycho @lunaralaraspace @mis-lil-red @mali22 @the-fae-are-taking-over

Next Part

#throne of glass #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x o.c #empire of storms #tower of dawn #kingdom of ash #aelin #gavriel #rowan #sarah j mass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

jinxedruby · 3 months

Text

Febuwhump 2024 Day Three: "Bite down on this"

Featuring Sky and Twilight. Well, this sure got long.

Heads up for some graphic injury in this chapter

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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

Leaves crunched underfoot as Sky and Twilight trekked through the woods. The sun steadily sank lower in the sky, painting the clouds pink and yellow. The perimeter check had yielded nothing so far and it was beginning to feel more like a leisurely walk than anything. Sky yawned, lacing his fingers together and stretching his arms over his head. Twilight glanced at him, corner of his mouth upturned.

“Tired, Sky?” he teased, elbowing Sky lightly.

Sky smirked, knocking Twilight’s arm away. “Maybe I’m just tired because we haven’t stopped to eat since lunch.”

“Fair enough.” Twilight shrugged. He glanced toward the sun, holding up a hand to shield his eyes from what light made it through the forest canopy. “It is getting late. I think we’re good to head back, there doesn’t seem to be any monsters near this area.”

“Alright, lead the way.” Sky set off alongside Twilight, picking their way through the trees back toward camp. “Hope the cook has dinner ready by the time we get back. I’m starving.”

“Me too. I-“ Twilight abruptly fell silent, halting in his tracks. Sky turned toward him, brow furrowed. Twilight held a finger to his lips, other hand reaching back for his sword. Sky immediately drew his as quietly as he could, moving to stand back-to-back with the rancher.

“Where?” he breathed, scanning the trees around them for any sign of movement.

“Not sure,” Twilight whispered back, a soft metallic shing indicating he’d drawn his sword.

Sky narrowed his eyes, watching and listening for anything out of place. Air drifted gently past the trees, leaves swaying lazily in the breeze. A critter darted through the underbrush and Sky’s shoulders stiffened. His eyes darted to the source of the noise but it was only a chipmunk.

“Get down!”

A force slammed into Sky’s back as Twilight tackled him, bringing them both to the ground. A roar erupted overhead as a torrent of fire whipped past, dry heat blasting across Sky’s face. He and Twilight scrambled to their feet, whirling around as a squawking sort of cackle filled the air, accompanied by high-pitched giggles. Several floating, robed creatures darted through the trees before them, some with dark cloaks and bird-like beaks, others with spindly arms and wide, toothy grins. One of the bird-like ones laughed, raising its wand and twirling it through the air. Several flaming keese erupted from the end in puffs of smoke, squeaking as they flitted towards the heroes.

“What are those?” Twilight called, slicing a keese clean in two before it could reach him. It fell with a screech, body still aflame as its remains landed among the grass and shrubs.

“I think they’re called wizzrobes?” Sky yelled back uncertainly, rounding on one of the bird-like ones that appeared behind him. He could vaguely recall Wind describing something like that, anyway.

The wizzrobe before him turned in a circle, sparkles swirling about its wand as it spun. Sky darted forward, sword raised. The wizzrobe flung a ball of fire from the tip of its wand. Sky ducked beneath it, heat prickling his scalp as it soared just overhead. He rushed in close to the monster, slashing it across the middle. It yelped and spun away. He took a step closer and swung again but it vanished, his sword swishing through the air. He whipped around, searching for whenever it reappeared. Something puffed from his right and he spun, lightning-fast. His sword connected again and the wizzrobe let out a cry, darting off into the trees. A high-pitched giggle sounded behind him. He twisted, shield raised. Then a blur of green and gray flashed by him, Twilight leaping into the air and stabbing the grinning wizzrobe. It let out a strangled cry, rod falling from its hand as it collapsed to the forest floor. Sky nodded his thanks before turning to cut two keese out of the air. They squealed, plummeting to the ground. Sky began to turn away when a hearty and horribly familiar smell hit his nose. He glanced down to where the keese had fallen, eyes widening. The flames hugged their bodies only for a few moments following their death, but it was more than long enough for the dry, dead leaves on the ground to catch fire. Sky abruptly realized how hot it had become, sweat beading on his brow and neck. His head snapped up, looking around to see several patches of grass up in flames, the fire hungrily spreading to shrubs and licking black lines into tree bark.

“Rancher!” Sky cried, skipping away from the rapidly growing fire before him. He glanced around frantically, heart pounding faster as he saw just how much the fire had spread. Twilight emerged from behind a tree, kicking a wizzrobe off the end of his blade. He yanked his head up to take in the flames around them before meeting Sky’s gaze, eyes wide and panicked. That only made Sky’s heart hammer harder. He’d never seen Twilight look so fearful. He spun about, searching for a way out. The moment he saw a gap in the flames he took off toward it, the smell of charred wood and burning grass thick in his nose. He glanced back to make sure Twilight was following. But Twilight stood stock still, staring wide-eyed at the flames crawling closer.

“Rancher!” Sky yelled, slowing. “Link!”

Twilight’s head snapped toward Sky and he blinked rapidly. He gave his head a shake before running toward Sky. The moment he caught up, Sky dashed toward the rapidly shrinking gap. A low cackle came from his right and ne narrowly avoided a fireball from the wizzrobe he’d injured earlier, the flames singeing his sleeve. He forced his attention onto running, breath ragged in his throat, boots pounding against the grass. The smoke sucked in with each breath certainly didn’t help his condition, pain sparking in the base of his throat. He and Twilight dashed through the gap in the flames only to find that the fire had spread even further beyond it. A torrent of fire hit a shrub ahead of them and it burst into flames, quickly catching onto grass and leaves and blocking their path. Sky skidded to a stop but Twilight forged ahead, digging something out of his pouch. He withdrew a boomerang that put the others’ to shame, hurling it at the fire ahead. It whirled around the spot in a tornado of wind, spinning and spinning until the fire sputtered and died. The boomerang flew back into Twilight’s hand and he and Sky continued on as fire roared around them. Sky stayed hot on Twilight’s heels, the cackles and giggles of the wizzrobes following them as they ran. Twilight broke through the edge of the trees then abruptly screeched to a halt. Sky just barely managed to stop before slamming into him.

“Wh- what-“ he panted, leaning around Twilight. His eyes widened. The ground fell away just ahead of them, a sheer drop tumbling to the woods below. They whipped back around, but fire blocked every other direction, the smoke in the air thickening. Twilight threw his boomerang at a patch near them but each time it extinguished the fire, the surrounding flames roared in once more. Twilight caught his boomerang with a curse, shoving it into his pouch. Wizzrobes emerged from the flames, twirling their wands and laughing as wood crackled and popped around them. Sky took a half-step back, heel scraping against the edge of the cliff. He lifted his sword, sailcloth shifting at the movement. Sailcloth.

He hastily sheathed his sword and spun to face the cliff. “Rancher, grab on!”

Twilight turned toward him, glanced at the sheer drop. The fire roaring and popping all around them gave him no time to question. He sheathed his sword and wrapped his arms tightly around Sky’s chest. Sky yanked his sailcloth over his head and gripped the corners in each hand.

“Jump!” he shouted. With a single bound, he and Twilight leapt off the edge. Sky held his sailcloth high, the familiar drop of his stomach preceding the snap as the fabric caught the air. He could feel Twilight’s quickened breaths against his ear, the rancher’s arms like a vice around him. They descended fast, but not so fast as for the impact to seriously hurt either of them. Twilight’s arms around him as they fell reminded Sky of a similar situation with Groose. An adrenaline-fueled laugh nearly bubbled out of him at the memory.

Then blistering pain exploded across his back.

Sky shouted, grip on his sailcloth loosening as the blow pitched him forward. At the same time, Twilight gave a sharp yelp. His arms slipped and Sky’s heart had just enough time to launch into his throat before Twilight was gone. Before Sky could turn to look for him or even yell, he crashed headlong into a tree. He plunged through leaves and branches, weaker ones snapping and sturdier ones sending him spinning. He went into freefall for just a moment before slamming into the ground flat on his back. He groaned, pain lancing up and down his torso, struggling to breathe after the impact knocked the wind out of him.

Twilight let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Sky gasped, forcing himself to sit up. Somehow having managed to keep hold of his sailcloth through the fall, he didn’t have time to tie it back around his shoulders and instead hastily tucked it into his pouch. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling a bit as dizziness threatened to overwhelm him. He caught himself on a tree, coughing harshly. He choked on a breath and frantically looked around.

“Rancher!” he yelled, throat sore. “Where are you?”

“H-here,” Twilight called back, voice thick and wobbly.

Sky hurried in the direction his voice had come from, half-stumbling, half-running. He staggered into a tree and shoved off it, coughing again, throat stinging madly. A giggle sounded from his right and gritted his teeth, yanking out his sword and spinning to face the wizzrobe. It hopped past him, toward the source of Twilight’s voice.

“No, you don’t!” Sky rasped, lunging toward it. It made a questioning noise at his words, turning. Sky reached it before it could react, plunging the Master Sword through its middle. It shrieked, lifting its rod but Sky kicked it away. Just as he wrenched his sword from it, letting its body crumple to the ground, another cackle came from behind. He spun, yanking his shield around just in time to block a fireball. It dissipated against the sacred metal and he dashed through the traces of flame, sword raised. The very surprised wizzrobe squawked just before Sky cut its bird-like head clean off. He gasped for air, whirling about, scanning the trees for any more enemies. When nothing else emerged, he took off toward Twilight, steps wobbly and arrhythmic. He stumbled over a shrub, heard a sharp intake of air, changed direction. He finally spotted a head of dirty blond hair and made a beeline for it.

“Rancher!” he gasped, hurrying as much as he could toward where Twilight lay sprawled out on the ground. “What…” He trailed off as he rounded a tree, Twilight coming fully into view.

Twilight lay on his back, face twisted in pain. One hand pressed against his right shoulder, his tunic singed by the fireball that had knocked them both from the air. His other hand hovered near his leg, trembling. His leg. The blood soaking into his pant leg caught Sky’s eye first, red staining the grass under his calf. A lump bulged beneath his boot just above his shin. Sky darted forward, falling to his knees beside Twilight. He grabbed the rancher’s hand, causing Twilight’s eyes to crack open, peering blearily at Sky.

“H-hey,” he croaked.

“Hey, Rancher, your leg is bleeding, I need to take off your boot so I can look at it, okay?” Sky said breathlessly, voice stinging against his throat. He coughed, phlegm sticking to the roof of his mouth, but he ignored it.

Twilight nodded and Sky released his hand, moving closer to Twilight’s injured leg. Gentle as he could, he tugged the heel of Twilight’s boot. The rancher yelped through gritted teeth, body jerking.

“Sorry!” Sky cried, freezing. “I…” His mind rapidly sifted through the small amount of first aid training he’d received at the Academy. Ideally, he’d cut the boot off so he didn’t agitate Twilight’s wound, but he only had his sword and his woodcarving knife. Wait… He plunged a hand into his pouch, fishing around for his knife. He yanked it out, thumbed the blade to test its sharpness.

“Rancher,” he said, moving back into Twilight’s field of view. Twilight blinked rapidly, eyes misty as he locked gazes with Sky. Sky held up the knife. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to cut through your boot so I can see what happened. I’m… I’m pretty sure your leg’s broken.”

“It’s… it’s fine,” Twilight grit out. “Be surprised if… if it w-wasn’t.”

Sky didn’t have the energy to smile so he just nodded, returning his attention to the wound. He slid the blade of the knife between the boot and Twilight’s leg. He hesitated, trying to will his hand to steady as his heart hammered. He slowly let out a breath and sliced through the leather in one stroke. Twilight hissed in pain, hand gripping the grass as Sky peeled the edges of the boot away from the wound. He placed one hand on Twilight’s knee then quickly tugged the remains of the boot off. Twilight ripped up a clump of grass. The bulge in his shin was much more apparent with the boot gone. Sky pinched the hem of Twilight’s bloody pant leg, feeling slightly ill. He started to roll it up but Twilight jerked again and he lost his grip.

“S-sorry,” Twilight gasped. “Trying… trying not to… t-to do that.”

“Not your fault,” Sky murmured, trying to devise some kind of strategy. Then he remembered a tip he learned at the academy and pulled a roll of gauze from his pouch. He held it out to Twilight. “Here, bite down on this. Hard.”

Twilight nodded, taking the gauze and putting it between his teeth. He gave Sky a thumbs-up and Sky grabbed his pant leg again, rolling it up. Twilight groaned, muffled by the gauze, but he didn’t jerk that time. Sky folded his pant leg up to the knee as quickly as he could without hurting the rancher.

“Oh no,” he whispered, eyes wide as he stared at the wound. A jagged piece of bone stuck out of Twilight’s leg, streaked with blood, skin split wide open beneath it. Dark blood pooled in the wound, spilling over the edges and trailing down Twilight’s calf.

Twilight hummed what Sky assumed was a question. He took a deep breath, blinking hard, forcing back the nausea clawing at his throat. He could not afford to get sick right then.

“Your leg is broken,” He told Twilight in what he hoped was an even tone. “It… it’s a complete break. Your bone… i-it’s sticking out.”

Twilight remained quiet for a long moment, clutching the grass beside him. Then he hummed an affirmative.

“I’m going to have a make a splint for you so we can get you back to the captain. I don’t… I don’t know how to move your bones without making it worse. I have to wrap it first so you don’t lose much more blood, though, okay?”

Twilight nodded jerkily and Sky withdrew any bandages he had from his pouch. He took a deep breath before pressing a few to the wound around the bone. Twilight dug his fingers into the dirt with a whine. Sky bit his lip, trying to go as quickly as he could, feeling dizzy. He wound bandages around Twilight’s leg, wincing every time the rancher made a sound of pain. Sky murmured apologies under his breath the entire time. He couldn’t help his sigh of relief when he finally finished, hurrying to his feet once he made sure he’d covered every part of the wound.

“I’m… go-going to find some branches we can use, okay?” he said shakily, struggling to ignore the feeling of Twilight’s blood under his nails. “I’ll be right back. Yell if you need me, I won’t go far.”

Twilight nodded, eyes screwed shut, and Sky hurried off. His heart throbbed in his throat, blood pulsing in his fingertips. He shuddered, the image of Twilight’s broken leg seared into his mind, but he shoved the fear down into his gut. It was fine. Twilight would be fine. He went as fast as he could, cognizant of his breathing that still felt ragged and drew sharp pains to his jaw and throat. His eyes darted around the forest floor, searching for sticks. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything aside from twigs and leaves. His heart sped up, footsteps quickening. There had to be something. Twilight couldn’t walk in the condition he was in, he couldn’t take a potion with his bones like that, and Sky wasn’t nearly strong enough to carry him all the way back to camp. His back twinged from the burn he’d been ignoring, still throbbing from the fall. The fall. The tree. Sky changed direction, rushing toward the tree he’d fallen through. Thankfully, he found it relatively quickly, leaves and branches strewn about. Sure enough, several sturdy branches he’d broken on the way down lay scattered at the base of the tree. He scrambled to pick a few up, measuring them against his own leg. He and Twilight were close enough in height that it would probably work. This is taking too long. He snapped a branch in half. This is taking too long. He gathered a few up into his arms and ran back to Twilight, breathing condition be damned. He burst through the trees, heart thudding against his ribs. Twilight glanced over at him as he approached and Sky couldn’t help his sigh of relief.

“How are you holding up, Rancher?” he asked as he knelt beside Twilight, laying the branches out.

“B-been better if… if I’m bein’… bein’ honest,” Twilight stammered, sounding breathless.

Sky felt like he should probably respond. If Warriors was here, he’d probably keep Twilight focused on talking, make sure he was conscious and aware. But Warriors wasn’t here. All Twilight had was Sky, who barely knew what he was doing. He measured the branches against Twilight’s leg and selected two that were good enough. Twilight stuck the roll of gauze back between his teeth as Sky began padding the sticks and fastening them to his leg with gauze. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but his hands shook and he heard Twilight stifle a whine of pain more than once. He wrapped the makeshift splint as tightly as he dared, doing his best to ignore the blood seeping through the gauze and awkward wrapping just around where the bone jutted out. By the time he finished, he was ready to throw up or pass out. Probably both. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t other yet.

“Okay. Rancher?” he said, stuffing the unused bandages into his pouch.

“Mm-hm?” Twilight responded, taking the gauze out of his mouth.

“We gotta get back to camp. I’m going to help you walk until we find the others. Once we get back, the captain can set your leg and then we can heal you. Okay?”

Twilight nodded. Then he gestured with the gauze. “Can I… keep this?”

Sky bit his lip and nodded. Twilight bit down on the roll of gauze once more. Neither of them mentioned how they were going to get around the cliff and back to camp. Sky helped Twilight sit up, the rancher groaning, face white. Then, slowly, painfully, they stood up. Twilight wrapped an arm tightly around Sky’s shoulders, Sky keeping an arm around the rancher’s back. It took a couple tries, but they eventually managed to their feet. Or foot, in Twilight’s case. His face paled even further, grip tightening around Sky’s shoulders. His arm rubbed the burn in Sky’s skin, but Sky ignored it. He’d deal with it once they got Twilight back to camp.

“Ready?” Sky asked, turning his head toward Twilight.

Twilight nodded, sinking his teeth deeper into the gauze, jaw tense. Then, gradually, one limping step at a time, they began making their way back toward camp.

#linked universe #linked universe fic #linked universe fanfic #lu sky #lu twilight #ruby writes #febuwhump #febuwhump2024

6 notes · View notes

not-a-space-alien · 1 month

Note

Hey Valen! I heard you talk about that when you lived in vampire territory, you used buy ethically sourced blood from a different country... Does that mean that there is a society made up of vampires and humans living together? like, Symbiotically, and not a predator/prey relationship? And if so, have you ever thought of moving there?

Sorry for a scary question, but... now that you are surrounded by humans everyday, are you ever worried about controlling yourself...? or other humans controlling themselves too, sorry!!!

Okay end on a high(er) note! What's one thing that shocked you about living on the human side that surprised you? Like, I imagine Vampire's don't have dogs, since the only thing they hunt are humans... although I suppose you do have snowball... maybe certain sayings like 'that man was born with a silver spoon in his mouth'?

Okay thanks for answering all these questions!... Again~ make sure to cuddle with snowball for me!

"Yes! There are areas of the world where relations between vampires and humans are friendlier. They're not... abundant, and it's not like humans and vampires are nextdoor neighbors in those places... But they at least don't live in fear of each other, which is a wonderful first step. There's no violence. I've toyed with the idea of moving there before. The culture is different, and they have fairly strict immigration policies... I'm not sure they would let me in because of my connection to the blood farms. They're protective of their humans... I mean, the human populations nearby who provide them with blood voluntarily. They go to great lengths to avoid anything that could potentially upset the status quo of nonviolence they have there. They're fairly liberal with using exile as a punishment for violence."

"I was scared about controlling myself before, yes--not anymore. Before I learned what starvation felt like, I had a silly notion that smelling human blood would make me lose control. That's why I wore the beaked mask--it held scented plants under my nose. That's what they were originally for. It feels...silly in retrospect. I have been hungry enough to lose control of myself now, and I know I would never reach that state again unless I was starved of blood for a long, long time." He shudders at the thought.

"Vampires do have dogs, actually! They have the same domestic animals that humans do--Vampires never actually domesticated any animals ourselves, as you said--we have little need for them in reality. But vampires take a fancy to animals the same way humans do, so we have dogs, cats, horses, rabbits--most of the same ones. We keep food animals like cows and pigs mostly for keeping our humans fed." He flaps his hands with excitement as he stumbles upon a particularly interesting train of thoughts. "The domestication of rats actually started in the 18th century, which is well within the lifespan of a single vampire. It's plausible that if a vampire were so inclined, they could single-handedly oversee the domestication of an entire species if it had a particularly short generation time. We could even establish our own lines of fancy cat and dog breeds. Can you imagine it? That would be so interesting!" He takes a brief pause as he imagines himself trying to breed a domesticated line of opossums.

"Oh, but the question was about differences. Sorry... You're right that there are quite a lot of linguistic differences. Most of them have to do with food--so much of human culture is structured around food. The most egregious example is the ubiquitousness of the coffee table, which I still don't quite understand no matter how many times Lex and Ari explain it to me." He does understand it, he just thinks it's stupid. "Light and dark symbology are reversed between our cultures, too. We view the moon as the primary celestial body and the sun as the secondary one. Nighttime is safety and light is danger. The first time Ari said something about death and Lex said it was 'dark humor'--well, I had to think about that phrase for a while."

Valen pulls Snowball onto his lap and cuddles her.

#MMSS

6 notes · View notes

lakemojave · 1 year

Text

Land of Falling Sun: Draft 2, Chapter 5

Somewhere on the plateau, somewhere high in the sky above the desert below, far above the bandits and hunters and beasts and caves, where the only thing in reach was the false promise of a landscape teeming with adventure and opportunity, there was a vulture. This vulture was not unusual, not at the moment. At the moment, it had one head, two eyes, one beak, and one pair of wings, feathers and bones and all. It flew and crowed exactly as a vulture is expected--no more unnervingly than a vulture is expected. Its instincts, at the moment, were exactly in line with a vulture’s priorities in the waking world: to feast on the dead for food. In the waking world, it would be a completely harmless animal. On Moapa, on the great plateau, it was a foolish and dangerous quantity.

It did not take long after crossing into Moapa through a thick sandstorm until it found food: a naked man lying flat in the desert, who was dead. The bird circled him once, twice, then a third time before descending slowly onto the body. It was dead. This was true. The vulture saw no signs of decay or defilement, so its meal was certainly fresh. It began to peck and carve into the dead man’s flesh, exposing the delicious viscera within.

The dead man screamed.

The man was dead. This was true. The vulture, a creature notorious for its wisdom, knew this. It knew this. It knew the man was not suffering. However, the bird wanted to eat in peace, so it grabbed the corpse’s hair by its talons which, perhaps by some form of rigor mortis, caused him to writhe, as though in pain. As though in fear of its life, the corpse continued screaming as the bird pried the man’s head back to expose its throat. The bird pecked and jabbed at the fresh, still pulsating neck of the dead man, whom it knew was dead. With one last, false plea for its long extinguished life, the vulture tore the man’s throat out. It let out a few false gags as blood poured from the wound in his neck and up out of his mouth, and it lay still.

The vulture ate in peace.

-----

A hunter rested in her tent. She lay on her back with her hood flipped over her eyes, shading her from the light of two suns. She slept with her rifle.

She needed a lucky hunt if she wanted to survive her journey, and a lucky hunt she did have. In a forest of ribs and burned trees, she found a bear. She killed that bear--one shot in its skull from two miles away without giving herself away. The meat it provided would nourish her for days, and the meat she could not carry would feed some other creature in the boneyard forest, who might take its place.

She loved the hunt. She loved the planning, the tracking, the preparation. She loved stalking her targets and hitting those impossible shots she was gifted with. She loved when the hunt turned on her, and fighting for her life against a much stronger beast, and winning every time. She loved reaping the rewards and eating well.

It was another failure, though. Big game and thrill-seeking was not her goal. The moment her hunt ended, she remembered her true target. She would stew in these thoughts, these regrets, as she slept with her rifle, never feeling safe with her own mind as company.

Something stirred behind her. She pulled the trigger.

The shot rang like thunder next to her ear. The bullet pierced the canvas and connected with the organism outside. If she had company, the effortless shot might have seemed impressive. She got up to inspect the kill.

She did have company. The organism was not alone.

Had her ear not been ringing, she might have heard the mournful wails from the women kneeling at the hunter’s kill. When she saw them, turning to face the women of many scales and tendriled limbs, she yelped.

They descended on her instantly.

The last anyone saw the hunter, she was still running.

-----

The landscape of the plateau was not entirely hostile. Scattered throughout its more desolate biomes were several small oases, a welcome sight to beast and traveler alike. It was not uncommon for homesteads and settlements to crop up around them, to take the water source and turn it towards a permanent safe haven for whoever claimed them first.

These were often the most dangerous places one could find. The closest the plateau had to a society was a scattered assortment of solitary, rugged individuals occasionally forced to interface with other solitary, rugged individuals. People were afraid of people, and those who did form groups or permanent settlements were especially protective, especially paranoid, especially dangerous.

The beasts were a problem, of course, particularly coyotes, particularly on such settlements. One such settlement was a goat farm. Goat farms were some of the oldest and most consistently secure settlements on the whole plateau. Being true omnivores, goats could graze on the plateau’s many inedible or poisonous plant species, and reduce any carcass in their wake to bones. They provided substantial milk, and their meat was delicious.

Hence, the coyote problem. They were stealthy, tactical predators, taking their prey back to their dens without a trace, then luring scavengers with the corpses. A rather ambitious pack had reduced one settlement’s goats down to half their original herd. In a week, the settlement’s survival was at an unprecedented risk.

This farm was home to four families. Two of them were hunters and scavengers, and were frequently absent. Of the two families that held down the oasis, the Vales were the oldest. The hands of their great-great-grandparents built the town, and their great-grandparents were its most fervent defenders. As long as the Vales remained, so would the farm. They made sure the others knew this well.

The youngest boy of the Vale family was a blind lad named James. The bright young thing lost his favorite goat, Rufus, to the coyotes in the most recent raid. He yearned for revenge, but his family urged him not to seek it. “Thelma will be back soon,” they’d say, “Then we can talk about it.” His sister was a great shot, indeed, and the farm would be much better off when she returned from her hunt. Until she did, however, the coyotes would continue hurting the farm.

One sundown, James Vale sat with the goats. The young boy had no weapons, no traps, no strategy. He simply sat and waited for the coyotes to come. He clenched his fists as he heard them approach.

The next morning, young James’ family found him lying bleeding on the ground with his arm broken--next to three dead, bloody coyotes.

-----

It was sundown. The young man smiled as he watched the sun sink below the northern horizon.

A change in the air. Light turns to fire. Stars struggle to shine. Moapa in flux.

The young man smiled. At sundown, he Worked. He did magic.

He carried with him a stack of old books from several collections of old strangers who parted with their prizes willingly or not. He would flip through their notes and sigils and recipes, try and trace the underlying current of their Works. Repeating them was one thing, but he only achieved a diminished effect than intended. The wind would change if he beckoned it, but it would not blow strong. His illusions were weak, his wards fragile, his fireballs unimpressive. It was satisfying to experiment like this, but even he knew there was something missing--something these mages had that he lacked.

There was a philosophy under each of these grimoires, something unifying the construction and desired effects of each Working. He couldn’t tell what they were, though--they were grimoires, not manifestos, so their beliefs were not spelled out literally. As he sat by his campfire reading that night, though, he had a realization at the heart of his study. He didn’t understand the books now, but he would through his own practice, his own journey. What he sought would come to him.

“What I seek,” he whispered aloud, “will come to me.”

With this, he thought about food. He took a few steps out into the sand, then closing his eyes, pictured a sigil. He drew it in the sand: a broken and jagged circle, like a rocky crevasse waiting to gore an unsuspecting climber. He retreated behind a rock and, facing the sigil, whistled.

Sure enough, the sigil pulsed and came alight. In the distance, a hog squealed. He heard the beast trot to the symbol and raise its head in curiosity. The young man smiled. What he sought had come to him.

He killed that boar and ate well. He afforded himself a drink or two in celebration. It was his most successful Work yet, and he did it all by his own. No books, no teacher, just his own intuition, imagination, and determination. He was changing, transforming into a vessel for greater magic still.

He slept with an ache in his wrist.

The next morning, he smelled flowers. He sniffed the air curiously, but as he turned about to track the source, he felt an immense pain. His arms and chest cramped as he rose from his tent and met the morning light. As he looked at his wrist, he shuddered. A large bulge formed along his tendons, pulsing and stretching under his skin. He watched in horror as from both his arms, something burst from his skin and sprouted. They were the tips of two vines, branching and creeping towards his hands and up his arms. Along the vines were flower bulbs.

He fell to his knees. The smell was so sweet, so overpowering, but not enough to dull the pain in his body, the twisting and swirling agony of transformation as his flesh and bone gave way to plant matter. He was turning into a vessel for even greater magic. What he sought came to him.

-----

In a fairer, grassier biome on Moapa, there was a bar. Goat farmers, explorers, scavengers and caravans alike would unwind here to rest after travel and work. No one was a stranger here; the town that hosted this bar was on a frequent route for all kinds, all of whom fraternized with the town’s many-legged inhabitants. It was often quiet. There was little to say.

The last few days, however, were unpleasant, for there was a stranger among them. He frequented the bar and the poker tables regularly, upsetting the townsfolk and their comfort by nature of his being for two reasons. First, he was classically humanoid--two arms, two legs, one head--unlike the insectoid inhabitants of the town and the various creatures that passed through the biome. Second of all, he was a skeleton.

Now, the townspeople all knew that classical humanoids had internal, not external skeletons. Perhaps he was unlike his kind, and some imperceptible organ tissue lay within him. Perhaps he was a human who had lost his organ tissue completely, and by some force of will or magic continued on, animate as before. Perhaps he was an animated skeleton that managed to adopt a voice, name, personality, and memory by some skillful act of puppetry. Otherwise, he would have to be a human person raised fully from the dead in a skeletal form, which was wholly impossible.

Nothing was actually unpleasant about his behavior, not really. He was a little loud, a little annoying at times, but he was always polite, always greeting people with a friendly, country twang. He didn’t eat or drink, but he was always playing cards and never seemed to mind losing. He was horrifying.

One day, after he lost a few too many hands in a row, he readjusted his tattered shirt, reached for his wide-brimmed straw hat, and stood up to leave. He was about to tip his hat to the gentlemen across from him when the saloon doors stood open. There stood a hooded figure, about a head taller than the townsfolk. He leaned on an elaborate looking cane with a single arm. In his hand, shoved into the handle of the cane, appeared to be loose leaves and herbs. He looked to the skeleton.

“Hi there sir,” the skeleton said in his usual cheerful and friendly tone, “What can I do ya for?”

The figure clenched his cane, which started to glow a light blue, as the leaves began to dissolve. “I’ve been looking for you.” He slowly lifted the cane--glowing more powerfully now--and raised it to point at the skeleton.

The skeleton threw a bottle at the hooded man, hitting him square in the forehead. He then leapt over the bar, grabbed the stashed shotgun, and shot the man right in the chest. The man flew out the door and into the street, dead on the spot. His spell misfired into the air in a loud crack of lightning, which hit nothing.

“Well,” the skeleton said, “That’s a damn shame. Pardon me fellas, y’all have a good day.” He walked to the saloon doors and claimed his gun belt from the doorman. The townsfolk never saw him again.

-----

The last anyone had seen the hunter, she was still running.

Read the rest of my second draft on my patreon! The unedited first draft can be found here

#land of falling sun #lofs

14 notes · View notes

littledove376 · 1 year

Text

Twin Pile

It was one of those days for Donatello. The migraine building in his head was horrid, his glasses only seemed to make it worse. It’s not like he could open his eyes anyway, the room was too bright despite the light being turned off. He wanted to sleep, but his head pounded incessantly.

There was a creak somewhere in his room, the sound reverberating in his head. He felt like vomiting as he whimpered in pain.

“Donnie!” An annoying voice shouted into the room.

Donnie whimpered pitifully.

Footsteps toddled further into the room. A familiar face of green and red popped into his glassy vision.

“Donnie?” Leo whispered, “Are you okay?”

Another whine at the sound.

Leo nodded in understanding, running out of the room. The feeling of the pounding footsteps vibrating around the bed sent him. Bile rising into his throat, but he swallowed it down. It burned, but it was better than making a mess.

A few minutes later, his father made his way into the room quietly. Stopping beside the bed with ibuprofen and water. Leo stood beside him, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently.

“Alright Purple,” Papa said quietly. “I’m gonna prop you up so you can take some medicine.”

Donnie responded with a pained hum. His papa propped him gently in his arms, administering the medication and water into his beak.

Setting him down, Papa spoke.

“You get some rest, okay?” He turned to Leo and kneeled, “I need you to keep an eye on your brother, Blue? If anything happens, come and get me.”

“Okay, daddy.” Leo says cheerfully, earning himself a shush.

Leo says it again, whispering this time. Earning himself a pat on the head, papa left the room.

Settled back under the covers, Donnie heard Leo shifting around his room.

“Donnie?” Leo whispered. “Can we have a twin pile? I promise I won’t make a sound.”

The softshell thought on it. While his head hurt, and Leo’s volume control was unpredictable, it would keep Leo from rummaging through his room.

Moving his body hurt, so Donnie gave out a small click signaling his approval. It was a bit painful, but not as much as it would have been had he nodded.

He could practically see the grin that grew on the other’s face. Leo crawled onto the bed and under the covers, using Donnie’s softshell as a pillow.

Leo wasn’t able to control his volume, and liked to talk a lot, but it was different when it came to twin piles. Leo knew when to keep his mouth shut during these moments, instead giving his shell small, comforting taps. It wasn’t long before Donnie’s eyes were drooping, Leo’s taps slowed as he too started drifting.

…

Splinter walked past the room a few hours later, intent on checking on his sons. The sight he saw was not a surprise, in fact, he anticipated it. The two seemed to always be connected no matter how far away the other was.

Blue was cuddled up against Purple’s shell, Purple finally relaxed and without a sign of pain.

Padding into the room softly, as to not disturb them, Splinter leaned down to place a kiss on each turtle’s heads.

“Sleep well, Little Ones.” He whispered.

*A bi-product caused by yesterday's comic page of Cass's Apocalypse AU*

#rottmnt #leonardo rottmnt #rottmnt donatello #cuddling #migraines #rottmnt fanfiction

19 notes · View notes

lukas-crowsong · 2 years

Text

@sharkpupsblog buckle up!!!

anne = i have to admit this choice was influenced by the croaking webtoon which has a character similar to anne in personality (uptight, put-together, commanding) who is an albatross. but besides that, i found the distance of this bird's flight without rest..... an interesting comparison. (years without touching land, sleeping in the air, touching down only briefly on water.) wandering albatrosses have the largest wingspan of any living bird which could match her horse being the only one other than mc's to have wings in normal canon. it's a superstition among sailors that killing an albatross brings bad luck, another superstition being that they're supernatural because they can fly for so long without even flapping. ALSO SOME ALBATROSSES ARE SAPPHIC. (i'm gonna stop before this whole post becomes me infodumping about albatrosses heh)

lisa = out of all sparrows that live in texas year-round (as in they don't migrate out of the state) rufus-crowned sparrows have the most intricate song, as well as beautiful subtle speckling on their wings that could reflect lisa's birthmark. i focused on sparrows because they're one of the smallest and most common songbirds :) also vibes (i was going to make lisa a dove which was really tempting... it came down to a spinning wheel in the end 🥲)

alex = i would've liked a bird associated with storms, but other than fictional birds the only one i could find is an australian 'storm bird' that lands before rain. so, woodpeckers seemed more appropriate in their attributes such as tenacity! as well as their physicality (not many birds attack trees literally head-on). also, fun fact, tongues of woodpeckers are one of the longest in the bird world as they wrap around the bird's skull to cushion it against hammering!

linda = owls seemed an obvious choice, but i choose the little owl specifically because they're the sacred animal of the greek goddess athena, and so the cause of owls being associated with wisdom. also, she smol :)

maya = puffins are hard little workers! living on cliffs and being preyed on by bigger birds like gulls can't be an easy life. but they survive regardless! they have quite close-knit connections among flocks, and are adaptable enough to spend time diving for fish then return to the air. the atlantic puffin's orange beak matches maya's hair :) (that's not my only reason i swear lmao; they're most regional to areas similar to jorvik. which is probably the second and last instance i've factored in location)

evergray = red knots are associated with spirituality in quite a few different cultures/mythologies. they also symbolise long journeys and adventure

ydris = magpies are nasty bastards that steal shiny things. tell me that's not ydris

avalon = honestly he seems like the type of guy to bury his head in the ground 😭 i suppose i also view him as quite tall and lanky so vibes-wise it felt like a no-brainer to me lmao

justin = look at this man and tell me he doesn't have the energy of the kind of idiot that would hang out in a crocodile's mouth

big bonny = another owl would be sensible, but i have to be honest: there are so many to choose from. i couldn't make up my mind ':) meanwhile blue jays are actually very intelligent birds that also capture bonny's intensity!

elizabeth: fun fact, robins are regarded as the most mothering birds of the bird world! also, in england (i don't know about other countries) there's a myth that each garden has one robin, and its death brings bad luck. no other robin will visit that garden afterwards

pi = ravens are symbols of death, deceit and destruction. does that not sum up pi? (even if i think they're just cool birds and don't deserve that bad rep 😭 i can't ignore connotations)

#ssoblr #star stable #star stable online #sso winged au #pegasus au

20 notes · View notes

moonlightguardianmoon · 2 years

Text

Don't Tell scp-049

Day 2

Day 2 of scp-049 being absent from site 19. While scp 035 and scp 076 are wreck havoc in the main area scp 106 decided to go and explore some of the other scp containment chambers, hoping to possably torment any anomalous creatures in his pocket dimension. However he end up finding himself in scp 049's empty containment chamber instead.

106: *peaks out of the wall* HEEEERES LAWRENCE- ... empty. Damn it! ... *looks around the cell*

The cell was a plain white room, a single cot on the left side wall of the cell, and a desk close by it, had several different tables with different test tunes and chemical sets, placed on them in a somewhat chaotic order, in the center of the other side of the room was seemed to look like a surgical area, there he saw a large overhead light above an operating table next to it a rolling cart, resting on top were some cleaned up surgical tools and by the wall next to the surgery area was a lone sink.

It then came to 106 that he was in the plague doctor's cell.

106: huh... *picks up one of 049's scalpels and fiddles with it* eh... I'll never understand why the doctor does this stuff... *looks down at the scalpel he's holding for a moment* . . .

Half an hour later.

106: *wearing a paper made plague doctor's mask and speaks in a mediocre french accent* HMMM YES PeStIlEnCe AnD DiSeAsEs! *sniffing sounds* WHOOP! I sEmLl PeStIlEnCe iN yOu! *swings the scalpel around* DYO YOU PORCELAIN B@#$! I SAID DON'T TOUCH MY SH*T! *starts waving his arms around in the air still holding the scalpel* EvErYoNe LiStEn To mE aNd EvErY eArFuLl AnNoYiNg CoMmAnDs I hAvE tO SaY cAuSe yOu IdIotS cAn'T dO sH*T RiGhT! *swings the scalpel around some more* LoOk aT mE AnD mY bIg @$$ BeAk FaCe AnD LiStEn To mY OUTRAGEOUS FRENCH ACCENT!!! VERY OUTRAGEOUS!!!

Scp 035 over hears yelling from 049's chambers and takes a peek inside the room to see what was going on, only to find 106 stomping around the plague doctor's cell wearing a poorly made plague doctor's mask.

106: HaVe NO FeAr DeAr PaTiEnTs fOr I! *tries to do a scalpel trick spin but nearly drops it* Oh sh*t- *catches it last second and lifts it in the air* AM THE CURE!!! NOW I WILL CURE THE PESTIL-

035: *leaning on the cell door* Nice impersonation attempt.

106: *freezes in place* . . . Uh... h-how long were you standing there for?

035: ... *pulls out a well made mask connect piece of a plague doctor's lower mask and puts it over the mouth part of his face* *starts talking in 049's voice* long enough to show you how to impersonate the good doctor properly.

106: ...

035: *smug energy* ...

106: ... don't tell the Doctor-

035: Don't, tell, Doc.

30 minutes later.

035: *still in 049's voice* pass me the scalpel, my dear good doctor.

106: of course good doctor. *passes 035 the scalpel*

035: *cuts something with the scalpel* pass the glue, now.

106: glue! *hands 035 the glue*

035: *glues something* and done! Our patient has been cured of the pestilence!

Sitting there on the plague doctor's surgical table was a bar of carved soap in the shape of what apear to be the shape of a platypus, with beak and limbs made from gluw and cut popsicle sticks.

106: ... I hate to use such language, but our patient looks like sh*t.

035: In your eyes maybe good doctor! But I think this surgery was a complete success! *stretches his arms out*

There was a sudden crash of shattering glass next to them.

106: O_O . . .

035: *is now the tragedy mask* . . .

Both turn to the left and looked down to see one of the plague doctor's test-tubes full of strange black liquid substince had spilled on the only carpet in the entire room.

035: *in his normal voice* ... oh that's not good.

106: *his normal voice and takes if his mask* OH YOU THINK!?? Why the hell does he have a single white f@#$ing carpet in his entire cell!?

035: oh that's an easy answer! Cause his feet hurt when he stands in a single spot for a long period of time when he does surgery, so he had them put a carpet next to his surgery table to-

106: NEVER MIND THAT! We gotta clean this sh*t up before anyone sees!

035: OK! Ok! Relax! I know where doc keeps his rags at! *goes to find a rag in one of the cupboards* Where the f@#$ did doc move the stupid-

106: hurry up!

035: SHUT UP I GOT IT! *grabs a rag* found it! *runs it under warm water in a nearby sink and starts cleaning the stain on the rug* Oh no, not the CARPET!!!

106: Doc is going to kiiill you!!!

035: *scrubs harder* ooh Doc is gonna kill me!

The black liquid doesn't go away, as it stains the rag as well.

035: Ooh WHAT HAVE I DOOOONE! OOOH NO, OH NO, OH NOOOO!

The stain doesn't go away and starts to get bigger as 035 continues to scrub at it.

035: OH I'M MAKING IT WORSE!!!

106: *starts laughing* oh this turned over quickly completely!

035: OOOH YOU @$$HOLE!!! You made this happen!!!

106: I DIDN'T MAKE YOU FLING YOUR CLUMSY @$$ HOST HANDS AT THE GLASS TUBES!!!

035: UUUGH! ... *looks up at the cell security camera* Oh Doc please don't watch the security footage please! Uuugh! It was all Lawrence's Fault!

106: I wasn't the one who broke his sh*t! That was you!

035: YA BUT YOU WERE IN DOC'S ROOM WHEN HE TOLD US NOT TOO!!!

106: YOU BROKE HIS SH*T! NOT ME!!!

035: YOU F@#$ING WENT INTO HIS ROOM FIRST!!!

106: OK! you know what! Let's just say 682 did this or something. I mean the doctor isn't gonna be back here in a week maybe the foundation will clean up his room or something.

035: *sighs* fine! Your right! Your right! *stands up and puts the rag in the sink and looks down at the mess* ... you think he'll notice?

106: *looks down at the stain as well*

The stain has became bigger and is nearly a gaint black blob on the carpet.

106: . . . No, I don't think he will...

035: ... Ok, so we both agree to never speak of this again?

106: agreed.

035: Don't tell Doc.

106: Don't tell Doc. *sinks into his pocket dimension portal on the ground*

035: *quickly leaves the room while whistling*

🤫

Ssssssh!

...

Don't tell Doc.

[Day 1] [currently Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5]

#headcanon #funny headcanon #funny #don't tell scp 049 #scp 049 #scp 035 #scp 106 #scp #scp containment breach #scp foundation #scp headcanons

24 notes · View notes

lemonybunny01 · 1 year

Text

Might as well start talking about dhmis here.

My ages for them:

Duck: mid 40s

Red Guy: mid or late 30s

Yellow: late 20s

Yellow as an adult makes more sense to me, I am glad it's up to interpretation though. (Does not change the fact that Red and Duck r a old married couple that adopted him. Cringe but free)

They're all autistic. In the area of sexuality+gender hcs, I believe in lesbian yellow, really just projecting. The other two r queer in some ways, and Red aroace, but rlly I don't think they'd use labels. Feels like the type to just acknowledge their queerness without it.

I'd say I don't have much design hcs, but going to list them anyway.

Duck:

he has a ducks beak but it's a tad pointed, referring the crow part ig.

He has an X eye and uses small, circular, grandpa glasses.

Red:

I like him having a tail, therefore he has a tail.

His feet and hands r more like paws.

His yarn is a bit long and curled, occasionally ties it up in the back, but not around the front due to his teeth/mouth ?

His teeth r a tad crooked and pointy.

Yellow:

He has curly, messy hair, and a mullet.

Freckles and I'd say acne but odd to say when he'd a puppet.

His joints r connected without stitches, plus a downward stitch on each end of his mouth.

Huge eyebags.

Piercings because they're cool. I don't have a good reason, they're just neat.

I have more but I can't properly remember since I've yet to draw ref sheets. Maybe I'll start sharing art of them if I feel motivated enough

#dhmis #dhmis headcanons #the tism guys

13 notes · View notes

regnumaves · 1 year

Note

Once again, after a long rest for recovering the serious injuries from the previous battle, the petite priestess found herself in the middle of a fight, but this time, she wasn’t facing a common enemy, she was facing… a bird?!—

With amazement leaking from her rosy lips, she widened her goldenish eyes as the majestic creature flew above her head and placing at close distance just to study her movement, probably: it was the first time Sakura saw an hawk so big this close, but she knew as well it wasn’t a common bird of prey. He was Tibarn, the king of the bird tribe and one of the most powerful warrior of Tellius: she knew him for his heroic gestures and to be able to face him in a duel… was far more thrilling than anything else for Sakura. Plus, he was a big bird. Like, a giant bird. And she couldn’t help but smile at the massiveness of his size.

Keeping aside all those thoughts, she suddenly remembered she was in the middle of a challenge and without thinking too much at the consequences, she started to concentrate the spell.

“Pleased to meet you, dear Hawk King Tibarn. I’ll try to go easy..” and she lowered her gaze to the tome, casting the spell.

Sakura (5/5 HP) attacks with Banshee (ranged). 1d20 = 14, Hit!

Damage = - 1.5 HP. Tibarn is 4.5/6 HP.

Tibarn is stunned.

Despite the swift movement of the bird, the spell hit him completely and after some sort of discharge, he got stunned and fell to the ground, with a soft thud, since he didn’t got severely injured, and actually, he still was quite vigorous and tenacious, but still blocked due to the incantation.

Sweet, this got me the opportunity to hit again… but, is it right? She stopped for a moment, feeling guilty at the thought of hurting that giant bird – she actually wanted to pet him a little, but that was absolutely absurd at that moment. Focus Sakura, you need to take advantage of this opportunity…

Sakura (5/5 HP) attacks with Banshee (ranged). 1d20 = 1, Miss!

But the sense of guilty was far more present and powerful in her heart. She failed to concentrated and she couldn’t even cast the spell again.

“I can’t…” she said, with a sad smile.

After his chat with Edelgard has wrapped up, Tibarn takes to the skies again, looking for more targets. A few students get easily swept out of his way, and then...

Really? His next opponent is a cute little pink-haired girl? Alright then. He can see it, the tome in her hand, the spell crackling at her fingertips; with magic as one of the greatest weaknesses of the laguz, he knows better than to underestimate its user, no matter how small and gentle they look.

She looks up towards him and he sees the awe in her eyes as she stares at his form, for all intents and purposes giant compared to her, and were he not shifted and sporting a less expressive beak instead of his normal mouth, he would smile widely as she speaks; though a semblance of it can still be made out on his face.

"Sakura, was it? Likewise! Let's make it good."

With that, he accelerates, drawing a circle above her in the air, looking for a good chance to strike. But she finds hers first, and the magic flies towards him with swiftness he has not expected - if it ain't a spell that was flung at him back home, he's not familiar with it - and as it connects with him, he lets out a shriek of pain and surprise both; the first because ew magic, and the second when he makes the sudden realization that his body isn't listening to him.

Tibarn HP: 4.5/6; Stunned

He finds himself falling - the feeling most hated and feared by any Hawk - and it takes a lot out of him to maneuver himself into floating onto the ground safely, his legs and feathers thankfully cushioning the fall as he lands on his belly.

Wat.

An annoyed screech gets out of him as he fights through the temporary paralysis, though he would have to admit that, somewhere deep down, he is almost entertained at the thought of that precious petite girl bringing him down. Janaff would laugh so hard if he saw this. Him lying splat flat on the ground in front of Sakura had to be a hilarious scene.

Prayer Ring heals Tibarn. Tibarn HP: 5/6; Stunned

He expects another attack - but it doesn't come, and while he slowly gathers himself back up, his eyes meet with Sakura's again; and he has to chuckle quietly as his wings begin to beat steadily once more, taking him back into the air where he belongs.

"Aw, you're cute. Sorry girl, but right now, this is a battlefield!" After a few more careful flaps of his wings, finally a powerful one sends him high into the sky while blowing a breeze in her face.

"Do not go easy on your opponents, because they will not do the same for you!"

... Though not gonna lie, he IS going to feel a bit bad about this.

Prayer Ring heals Tibarn. Tibarn HP: 5.5/6

Tibarn attacks with Killer Knuckles and doubles (+6 Spd): 4d20=5, 8, 11, 8. Hit x4! Miracle procs. Sakura HP: 0.5/5

He swoops in and outstretched talons strike at the girl, though they are careful to avoid any vital areas, instead aiming mostly around the shoulders - the impact enough to send her falling onto her back.

He almost goes against his own advice, part of him eager to inquire about her well-being - he refrains for the time being, circling one more time before stopping near the ground, some distance from her... He should probably check on her.

"You got this, still?" He smiles, though it is not well visible on his beak. "Come on, I believe in you."

#❁ all skies shall belong to me ; ic. ❁#❁ sometimes it is necessary to exchange a few words ; ask. ❁#toaboel2023 #❁ support ; sakura. ❁

4 notes · View notes

wispofwillow · 2 years

Text

FFXIV Prompt 5: Cutting Corners

Characters: Rhalen & Lohi Alsentia (Parents to Wisp Alsentia)

(No real music set to this scene, but general feel might be: ODESZA: Behind the Sun (Or, Equal as well):https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43HOnc3nZ5s

___

Salvia was exhausted. There was no other word for it.

Day after day in this swiving place, with the sun beating down on her head like the accursed blacksmith’s hammer back home, and stuck in this stiff plated armor, to boot.

Life for the likes of her would be better in an outpost, so she’d heard. And the chance to get out of the ever-frigid Garlemald had seemed a boon, at the time.

Aye, a boon, indeed, Salvia thought to herself. Sure, the cold never seemed to stop there. But the heat never stopped here. Nor the dust, it seemed. All of it worse in the stuffy prison where they’d stowed her, out of sight.

She paused to remove her helmet, shaking back sweat-slick hair with a sigh of relief at the slight breeze of air she could feel across her face now.

That was another thing no one had mentioned: the heat, the dust, duty as a prison guard for the rebels.

Sighing again, Salvia set her feet moving again down the path - really a faint track through the dust and scrub more than a proper path, that started with hugging the wall of the Castrum before deviating off beneath some low trees to a shallow, but cold, stream. Salvia’s secret.

Not so much the stream as this shortcut to it, out of sight of the sentries on the Castrum wall, which meant a well-timed duck out of a normally-locked side door from the Castrum could see her free and clear to a brief break in blessed privacy. It was cutting corners, to come this way, in ways both literal and figurative. But after this many months of standing near motionless in dark, stifling corridors, listening to prisoners weep and beg and, worse, sit in silence until Salvia found herself listening for their breath in the dark to be sure they still lived, smelling their waste and vomit and unwashed bodies, she needed this break. They’d spoken, once, early on to their commanding officer of the conditions. Of how sometimes prisoners would be taken from their cells and returned with bruises.

But after the officer had cursed and sent her back with her own set of bruises. After months of enduring the cramped hallways and the stench and the curses and blows from prisoners herself, Salvia had learned. And so, she took these breaks instead.

Soon her time here would end. Soon. That’s what they heard, every day, as they watched the battles rage on the horizon, hearing the explosions at a distance. Victory would be their own any day. So they heard. So they said. The prisoners muttered a different tale.

Muttering her own curses, Salvia dashed across the brief open space between castrum wall and the low trees, fighting the urge to look over her shoulder, then relaxed, taking her time along the rest of the path now that she would be firmly out of sight of any sentry bent on making mischief for her. Not that most did not make trips like this themselves. But, you never knew.

As her eyes adjusted to the relative gloom beneath the scant shade of the trees, it took the hyur woman a moment to realize something was off. Too long a moment.

Before her eyes could make sense of the tree’s shadow separating from it, that shadow had a spear tip set to her throat. Salvia blinked, and blinked again, swallowing against the kiss of steel at her throat, and the shadow resolved itself into a Miqo’te woman, grey-furred, sunk into a familiar hunter’s stance. Her face was hidden, shielded by a half-mask shaped into an owl-like beaked visage but painted with the colors of a mountain cat. Lines threaded out from the corners of her mouth suggesting an age that her ready stance denied. “‘Lo.” the woman spoke. “We’ve been waitin’.”

A second shadow separated itself from the trees.

Run. Salvia’s mind finally connected the pieces. Acting on instinct as much as any of the years of drilled training of an imperial soldier, she lifted the helmet in her hand to slam the spear away from her throat as she turned, and froze.

Or rather, never moved to start with.

Cold ran through them. The second figure came more fully into the light, then: also a Miqo’te, but shorter, fringe of white hair just showing around the edges of his own dark mask. On his shoulder glimmered a small creature whose light-formed tail flicked as it pointed a nose in her direction. In the man’s hand a book sat open, the diagrams within it still aglow.

Oh shite. Magic.

Despite the steel still pricking her throat, she dropped her gaze as dread swarmed in her stomach. She could see, now, the precise diagram etched into the dirt that surrounded her feet - surrounded her, trapping her. And she’d walked right into it.

The woman chuckled, then, low, like a growl, and shifted the tip of her spear, just slightly, to force Salvia’s chin up to meet the empty, staring gaze of those empty mask eyeholes. It wasn’t the sort of thing the rebels around here usually wore. And somehow having no idea who these two were made the scratching terror working its way out from her stomach up her limbs worse.

“Wh-what d’you want?” Salvia cursed herself for how the words trembled, and how she had to wet her suddenly dry lips to speak them.

The woman smiled, a sharp edge of a thing. The man did not, his tail twitching once in sync with the glimmering creature on his shoulder. She did not know which was worse.

“Keys, o’ course. And information. Which we’ve full reason to believe you have. Bein’ the guard over what prisoners you’ve taken here.” The word “prisoners” was hissed, the word “guard” spoken like a curse.

Though she’d been afraid before, for some reason it was not until this contempt that Salvia looked deeper into that sightless mask and felt despair.

“Please,” something made her say. “Mercy.”

“And.” The woman added, loosing a hand from her spear to reach forward and pluck the helmet from Salvia’s nerveless hand and cast it aside into the dirt, then again to lift the section of her shirt that covered her set of keys, and plucked those away too with a discordant jangle. They’d been watching, then, to know where she kept them. To know where she’d come, how she got in and out of the castrum. “I want my children.”

Salvia swallowed, bowels loosening. “Please.”

_____

Later, Rhalen, erstwhile poacher of the Shroud, Huntress of the Hidden Forest, would return in the clothing of the imperial soldier she and her partner - in life, in love, parenthood, and in this - would return in the garb of the soldier they had ambushed, and make her way into the Castrum into the prison sector, into each and every cell. She knew the signs, she knew the words, the habits, the schedule. And when those did not suffice, she knew better ways to end a confrontation than any of those tools.

Later still, she would let Lohi, erstwhile ostracized Seeker, in and the prisoners out, and he would see to the worst of the wounds, his Carbuncle Meehen tucked against his side as he wordlessly shaped the sigils for healing, codex open beside him.

Later even than that, they both would return to the cells, having found no familiar faces among those huddled shapes, pained or despairing or defiant, that they had come to in the gloom. And they would search every last room they could find. But they would not find their children. Lohi would lean his shoulder against Rhalen’s as she let her own despair come through gritted teeth, back out in the open air, the night sky spreading its wealth of jeweled stars above them in the Ala Mhigan sky unheeded. It was good they had not found them, in that foul place, she would remind herself. Her children were grown and well-skilled: she and Lohi had seen to that. She reminded herself of this, also. And her mind would offer her an image, of herself, leaning over little Islen and even smaller Ento, wielding their first awls as they shaped their own first carved masks - or attempted to. “Aye, you can’t cut corners with that step, there,” she would remember saying, laying her calloused hand atop her small son’s to stop a hasty slam of hammer to awl. “Else you’ll mar the whole lay of it. Here, see?” And she had shown him the way. As she and Lohi had always tried to show the way, until their children had scattered, one by one, to make their own.

To make their way and to disappear, seemingly into thin air, from the forest, from the fields of Cartenau, from the healing tents of the Ala Mhigan resistance, from the Hidden Forest.

But all of that was later.

Now, an imperial soldier pleaded for mercy before Rhalen, Huntress of the Hidden Forest, and Lohi, Arcanamist of that forest’s shrouded boughs, hunters of missing children. And she had a decision to make.

Salvia felt the slow drip of blood where the spear bit into her throat, an itch as it trickled somehow uncomfortable despite all the other discomforts.

The woman was not smiling now. Salvia felt rather than saw her shift her attention to the man at her side. He made a sign with his hand - a shape Salvia had never seen before.

The mask turned back towards her.

#Ehhh I don't know about this one but 'tis done #So #FFXIVWrite2022 #FFXIVWisp #Wisp Alsentia #Tis their mother's time

6 notes · View notes

ducknotinarow · 4 months

Note

03/07 MikeyVon - [🎁] our muses exchange holiday gifts

| SEND AN EMOJI FOR A STARTER ! ↳ winter season & holiday based

Mikey heard of the whole baby shower thing a long time ago it was mentioned off hand a lot in just all kinds of media he consumed mostly the chick flicks he would watch with Von and April during their girls nights. They both sort of filled him in on the concept and idea of it. Von's answer was of course very much like Von a very cut dry explanation on what the idea of one was. April's? sounded more sociable and fun like she been to one before. Which made sense to Mikey. Even if Von was human before she got mutated she never really lived a life like April herself has. Hell Mikey felt he could place a bet on the fact Von had even less experience with human like stuff than him and his brothers. Least they had some friends and even held parties like their Christmas get together a few years ago where they had guest from all over the place join them. Poor Von. Mikey knows she not the usual type to be seen as fun cause of how she comes off but Mikey thought Von was one of the most fun people to hang out with.

Long as she wasn't interviewing him on his experience of being a mutant. On being a battle nexus champion? oh sure he'll talk here ears off on that.

Must not be easy to feel connected when you also were sort of isolated from stuff like that for years. He guess that would explain her dry response on what a baby shower was like something she would never be part of. No different than when she FINALLY explained the whole butterflies drinking blood thing to him. It was all just facts and information she had. Though unlike that because she manged to squeeze out that more fun side of hers out at the time. Donnie and Von had been trying for a long time. Donnie mentioned his dream to Mikey so long ago and Mikey always felt like Donnie would make a great dad and well he felt the same on Von being a mother. Sure to some Von seemed cool and distance but Von was very maternal deep down as well. She was supportive, empathic and her love was always unconditional. She was kind of the first person Mikey told his confusions towards after all. When it came to how Mikey felt when it came to his gender.

Von looked at him like he was telling her his name, that sometimes he didn't always feel like a guy sometimes he liked to be feminine. Mikey liked to wear pink things, he liked make up and nail polish and indulging in things that may seem more like a girl would enjoy like the enjoyment of stupid romance movies. And not once did Von seem to think anything of it she kind of fed into it if anything and eventually? he found himself okay with how he saw himself enough to tell his brothers even. That felt pretty motherly to him? accept your child as they were and making them feel they can be that even? Supporting this idea so Mikey could find his grounding on the though? Mikey really did think they be good parents to whoever that ugly alien thing from the photo Donnie shared with them would end up being.

Which was why he may gone over board on the party planning. Feeling they had to cram in every thing possible into the one party alone. Look when else were they gonna get to throw a baby shower? Even if it seemed like Casey and Raph had a touch of baby fever themselves? he doubts they would let him do it for them. Raph might smack him for the thought. Might be way he was keeping his distance through out the whole fun. Mikey noted when he had lifted his head up from his bowl of water all three pacifiers in his mouth. Smirking brightly he was on a high from all his wins from the night. Meaning his brothers were going to hate him for the next couple of months when he would start to brag about it. Spitting them out hands above his head "That's right I aint just a battle nexus champion I am also a champion at all things!" Mikey beams happily when he eyes Von over on the couch with Raph. He saw the gift bag in her hand and let his beak fall open.

"Hey no fair Raph!" Mikey near exclaims on the top of his lungs over the sight as if he had caught the pair of them committing some unforgivable crime. Which they had in Mikey's book at least that is. He fixed them with a glare. "I can't believe you two! just cause he's your bestie Vonnie mean he should get to give you his gift first!" The orange banded turtle near whined before looking at his older brother "For shame Raphie, imma tell Casey!"

Ignoring Raphael questioning why he would bring this up to Casey Mikey took off to where they had set all their gifts up for Von to open later. If Raph could give his gift to her then so could Mikey. He decided moving to join them on the couch sitting on Von's left side now before he stuck out his tongue to Raphael. "Rude!" He switched his attention to the mother to be and smiling. "I hope you like it Von, I got help with it clearly but still counts as a gift I feel" Mikey mentioned as he hands over his own gift box, his name written out on the top of the wrapping paper to make it clear it was from Mikey in the first place. He seemed more excited about her opening the gift than Von might have and nearly ripping the paper himself but he behaved for the time being.

"It's a mobile!" He states when it was finally free from its container, decorated with sea shells, and sea glass strung up on old pipes. That being the bit he needed help with so Donnie knew what his gift was at least since he needed help welding the metal pipes for the framing of his gift. "I figure ya live by the ocean so it should be ocean themed oh and! for Donnie" He points out the small Ariel figure in the center with the prince of the film. "You just know Donnie's gonna teach her science and to love that movie so figure I help" he slightly kidding with his remark, well he might not be kidding at all in truth. Taking it to hold it up he gently pushes it letting the shells, and glass tap against each other softly to make a low little jiggling sound. "I shall some humans made wind chimes with the shells and got the idea from that. So it won't break or anything don't gotta worry about that. "Think she'll like it?"

#muse| hamato michelangelo #madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ welcome to weird science 101- alfockoffeathers]#winter season & hoilday meme #meme answer #meme reply #ic reply #stay queued #[07 verse]#((see he knows it's for her he just got excited okay XD))#((also if your curious yes there was a deeper meaning to each baby gift for ari ;3; with raph and mikey #raph a blanket = hes the one to often comfort ariel and give her ease with anything going on and offers her security like a security blanke #mikey a mobile because they often help cheer babies up when they cry they make noise and babies play with them sometimes mikey always cheer #her up and makes her smile ;3; DEPTH!))#{{reason i went with the baby shower is cause well vons dont have her brothers sure but she has these idiots to be here for here during thi #felt more special than for a holiday ;3;))

1 note · View note

fan-burns · 5 months

Text

Robots 2

Chapter 2: Ratchet’s POV

“Oh my Cog, I can’t believe it worked!”

In my hands was a copy of the Robot Times from yesterday. It was a pain in the aft to get, but I’m glad that I did. The headline read:

“Revolutionary Ratchet?

Two years ago, the murderous Ratchet disappeared from public eye, but was he really all that bad?

Turn to page 12 to find out!”

I don’t believe it, the old coot actually did it. He mind controlled everyone that works for the paper!

As I stood there stunned, a distorted voice sounded from behind me. “And you said it vas just a myth!”

I turned to face the rust bucket responsible for this. Doctor Veyizmir. Anyone who knew him would sprint at the mere sound of his grisly voice. Like the rest of his body, his voice had deteriorated over the years. It has a nasty habit of switching from American to German as he spoke, making him all the more unnerving and unhinged. He’s been trying to fix it for as long as I remember, but to no avail.

I’m still amazed that he’s even alive, considering how old he is. He was an outmode long before they were officially a thing, and he was well past his warranty. Yet somehow, by some demonic intervention on his part, he still lives.

He looked like he came straight out of a Hollywood horror movie, he was crippled, old, and fat. He even had the glasses and thick gray eyebrows to boot. His body was stained brown with rust and Cog knows whatever chemicals he’s been playing with. Whatever paint job he had on completely vanished, and was replaced with a thin coat of dust. His face wasn’t any better, as his mouth had been so corroded that it began to form a sort of “beak” shape. His teeth had long since rotted away, making him all the more unpleasant to look at.

Despite his round body, he was only being held up by his thin, frail limbs, and has to carry a cane with him less he risk falling over. The cane in question was held by a set of thin hands, which were easily mistaken for spiders when they moved around. His pointer fingers were, well, they were needles. Most likely filled with some metal corroding acid that he created, or some liquid that could turn you into a rusted statue in a matter of seconds.

He was…creative like that. To highlight this fact, there was a lightbulb sat upon his head that lit up whenever he had one of these creative ideas. Over the years, some of the wires connected to it began to sprout from his forehead, causing a slight electric shock every now and again whenever it tried to light up.

I feel like I can’t go a single day without seeing it try to light up at least once, and everytime it does, I can’t help but feel sorry for his next “Pet Project”.

As he stepped out of the shadows, I could hear his joints creak and groan under his own weight. As he opened his beak, small streams of smoke had escaped from him as he struggled to speak in his jumbled accents.

“As I’ve said before, zis is zee future of us all…Under normal conditions, zis Electromagnetic pulse can only briefly inconfenience us vith zee occasional blackout or, at zee worst, damaged equipment. Howefer, vith my expertise, ve are capable of many, many things. Of course, such technologies have never existed up until zis point, and have only served as a tale to tell to children at night…until I had a go at it!”

I didn’t want to know how he was able to bring fiction into reality, but at the same time I was morbidly interested.

“Soooooooo…what did you do? How did you do it?”

His beak turned into that signature evil grin of his, the last sight of many of his little experiments.

“Oh, you give me hope for zee youth!” Spoke the twisted figure. “At least someone is interested in vat I do! It vas quite easy, actually, much easier zan I expected! Back in zee old days, I used to make smaller signals using metal rods and lightning from ze sky! zey could only cause a simple power outage, but it was quite ze feat! Course...zat led to a fire in the town I was residing in, and I had to flee.”

“I thought you had to flee town because you killed a bunch of bots?”

“Well…that too. But zat’s beside zee point…What I’m trying to say is zat I can go bigger. I can weaponize an EMP signal, the nightmare of all robots! Think of it, sonny. zee whole world looking to you for advice, for your orders, for your command!”

There’s the other thing about Doctor V. His theatrics and comparisons with wild, starving animals and bots.

“It’s tantalizing, isn’t it?” He went on, “All zat power in one place, it makes you want to crawl out of zis cage and into ze palace banquet!”

As he went on, he stepped closer to me, tapping his cane on the ground to emphasize the point.

“You’d be unstoppable…and anyone vho gets in your vay vill only find themselves devoured by your pover and zeir ovn lust for you! A lust of vhich, you vill inflict upon zem vith your voice and authority alone…You’ll be irresistible to many, loved by ze majority, and obeyed by all! How could you possibly not vant something like zat?!”

The Doctor was a master at tempting you, too. He’ll promise you something you can’t resist, and he’ll damage you beyond repair intentionally or unintentionally. Then he’ll drag whatever’s left of you to his workshop and claim you as his next “Pet Project”. He’s like a wicked genie in a bottle cranked to eleven. It’s the one reason why I’ve been avoiding him everytime I come down here to see my mother. But now that she’s gone, and I’m basically living here now, I’m forced to talk to him.

But the more I listened to him, the more I found myself agreeing with him. I have wanted to get back at that little blue brat and his coffee pot pet for a while…and this could be my ticket back to the top. But if I’m going to go along with Dr. V’s plan, I have to play it safe, I can’t get too greedy. For all I know, this could be some conspiracy against me.

“You have a point, but how are we-”

“Simple…ve’ll keep altering the cell tovers in zee city as ve’ve been doing. Vhile ve’re doing that, I’ll create a generator inside ze Shop. Once zat’s finished, I’ll forge vhat I call a “Conduit”, zat vill use that generator’s power to control ze masses.”

“Wait, why can’t you just skip the generator and just make the Conduit the generator? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Doctor V. gave me one of his infamous side glares, “Because, boy, zis main generator contains ze real pover. A generator squeezed in one place can only cover so much ground, and von’t be able to reach zee entire city. Zee Conduit vill be able to spread zee signals to areas vhere zee EMP cannot fully reach. Vith a smaller, more portable signal on zee side vill ensure zat no one can resist! Ve can’t have a rebellion in our empire, now do vee?”

What he was suggesting ws horrifying, but brilliant…I’m slowly starting to see why mom kept him around. To an extent at least.

“But how are you going to build this thing?! Where are you going to-”

He interrupted again by waving his needle finger at me and made a “Tsk Tsk Tsk” with his beak. “You just focus on zat little boyfriend of yours and let me handle ze rest…How is he, by the vay? I haven't seen him in a vhile.”

“He’s not my-”

He shrugged his eyebrow at me.

“I mean…he’s fine. Last I heard he’s scored a job at Bigweld’s. We’re keeping communication low just in case. If he’s really in a position of power, we can’t afford to have him lose it!”

“I see…Vell zen, I best get started.”

Before he could disappear back to the shadows, I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

He looked surprised that I asked, as if he was genuinely taken aback that I was interested in this plan of his. Delighted, He turned to me and gave me an answer.

“Vell, based on how well zee tests have gone so far, I’ll give it…four years, at least.”

“FOUR YEARS?!”

“You can’t rush art!” His voice croaked. “At least it isn’t a decade! It’ll go by in a flash, you’ll see.”

And just like that, he vanished into the shadows. Down into the abyss of the shop, far from the heat of the smelters and embracing the cold.

“This better work, doctor.”

This had better work.

#robots 2005 #robots 2

1 note · View note