#tales from a cosmic wanderer
Text
We drift between dreams
So endlessly
We forget that we
Create reality
#my writing#poetry#poem#tales from a cosmic wanderer#creation#godhood#collective unconscious#collective consciousness#dreams#reality#reality shifting#cosmos#truth#cosmic truth#creative writing#spilled ink#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#quick write
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
a somewhat swap au of Scarab and Prismo. i say somewhat because its not just swapping them, i changed a lot of stuff other than just like their jobs. heehoo ok enjoy :]
text descriptions and more information under cut ^^!
Prismo -
his [physical] body is "frozen" in time
a bit more calloused over his years of working, but still considered very chill
he usually talks people down so he doesn't have the fight them
the crystal weapon is around his neck
it shoots out like a flashlight
the auras/souls of his victims get trapped in jars
pupils go starry when he does this
So here, Prismo is a god auditor! He's still very down to earth, but after years of fighting and monitoring and capturing, he's a bit worn down. That being said, he's still generally considered to be everybody's pal! The crystal he uses can't store the people he gets, so he has to carry around the jars. Because of this, he can usually only detain like two people at once, maybe three if he pushes it.
Prismo has some resentment about not being Wishmaster, but not the way that Scarab would! He just thinks he could do a better job, but he respects Wishmaster Scarab and just kinda lets it slide. He and Scarab are actually pretty close, and if he's injured or just very bored he'll go bother the cosmic bug.
Things he can do that aren't mentioned are that he can walk on walls/defy gravity, make duplicates of himself, and teleport. Duplicating himself and teleporting takes a looot of energy out of him, and considering that he is perpetually tired, he really doesn't use those abilities a lot.
Scarab -
this form resembles his physical body, but is still just a projection
he can touch stuff, but can't feel anything and can't be hurt/damaged
he's a bit more relaxed, but is still quite strict/rule oriented
the wings of his mask can open up, but usually don't
he is very big :)
the time room is less of a room and more like a never-ending labyrinth of paths
only the truly determined will obtain a wish
Scarab as the Wishmaster is a lot more relaxed than in canon, but due to his nature he is still a bit strict about rules and such. He will explain how exactly a wish will work to those who reach their goal, and if they choose to ignore that, they don't get a second chance. He usually won't go further into detail about the rules, either. This is where Prismo's slight distaste comes from, because he thinks that if he were in Scarab's place he would be nicer about it. That's about as far as that goes, though.
The main entrance that everyone is allowed through(the labyrinth) is infinite, but there is space around it(like a pocket dimension inside of a pocket dimension). Getting into the outside space will lead to the rest of the Time Room, but only Scarab has access to that. He spends most of his time floating in the abyss of the main area. There is no set path to find him, and he will instead come to whoever enters, if they're determined enough.
Scarab does not let people wander freely through the Time Room, so most of the other cosmic entities tend to avoid him because he isn't very fun. Prismo doesn't, though. Unlike anyone else who may enter, if Prismo simply calls out for Scarab, he will arrive almost immediately. Though Scarab has a 3D form, he is still confined to the Time Room, and does not find joy in watching the universes(he only does it if he's reeeallly bored, or if it's necessary). And since he blocks off the rest of the room to anyone else, he never gets any visitors, only mortals looking for his favor.
He doesn't mind the isolation at all, but he does enjoy the company that Prismo offers him. He doesn't mind being secluded, but he gets lonely sometimes. Prismo has many tales of his adventures being an auditor, and Scarab has begun keeping notes on all of them. He looks forward to Prismo's next visit always.
That's about all I have to say about them and their lore, at least as a base to build off of later, so uhhh here's they're color pallets :]
On the left is just how they both look, and the right is just missing the gradient for Scarab so it's easier to see(they don't look super great, but im just laying out the colors)
#fionna and cake#job swap#prismo#prismo the god auditor#the scarab#scarab the wishmaster#prohibitedwish#not only visible if you squint hard enough but not openly there#or maybe it is#doesnt feel like it to me but. its supposed to be so im tagging it as pw anyways lol
301 notes
·
View notes
Link
Water is the most common chemical molecule found throughout the entire universe. What water has going for it is that its constituents, hydrogen and oxygen, are also ridiculously common, and those two elements really enjoying bonding with each other. Oxygen has two open slots in its outmost electron orbital shell, making it very eager to find new friends, and each hydrogen comes with one spare electron, so the triple-bonding is a cinch. Hydrogen comes to us from the big bang itself, making it by both mass and number the #1 element in the cosmos. Seriously, the stuff is everywhere. About 75% of every star, every interstellar gas cloud, and every wandering bit of intergalactic space debris never to know the warmth of stellar fusion in 13.8 billion years of cosmic history is made of hydrogen. That hydrogen got its start when our universe was only about ten minutes old, and all the hydrogen that has ever existed (except for random radioactive decays and fission reactions, but that would come later) formed before our universe turned 20 minutes. A dozen minutes, 13.8 billion years ago. When you quench your thirst with a healthy glass, that’s what you’re consuming. We can understand this epoch of cosmic history, known as the nucleosynthesis era, because over the past century we’ve become rather skilled at dealing with nuclear reactions, and in one of the hallmarks of our species we have unleashed this radical understanding into the physical nature of reality and deployed it for both peacetime energy generation and wartime bombs. Our understanding of nuclear physics tells us that earlier than the ten-minute mark, our universe was too hot and too dense for protons and neutrons to form. Instead their subatomic parts, known as quarks, were unglued in a heaving maelstrom of nuclear forces, constantly binding and unbinding in a seething rage-filled sea of gluons, the force carriers of the strong nuclear force. Once the universe expanded and cooled enough, condensates of protons and neutrons formed like droplets on the windowpane, low-energy pockets capable of keeping themselves together despite the temperatures. Eventually, however, as soon as the party got going it fizzled out: when the universe became too large and too cool, a mere dozen minutes later, there wasn’t sufficient density to bring the quarks close enough together to perform their nuclear binding trick. Some protons and neutrons would find each other in those storm-filled days, though, forming heavier versions of hydrogen, some helium, and a small amount of lithium. And since then those hydrogen atoms have wandered about the cosmos; most lost in the intergalactic wastes, some participating in the glorious construction of stars and planets, and a lucky few finding themselves locked in a chemical dance with oxygen. The oxygen has another tale to tell, also a story of fusion, on its way to becoming water. But not the fusion of the first few heady minutes of the big bang, but in the dance within the hearts of stars. There, crushing pressures and violent temperatures slam hydrogen atoms together, forcing them to fuse into helium, in the process releasing an almost vanishingly small amount of energy. But that forced marriage happens millions of times every second, in every one of the trillions upon untold trillions of stars strewn about the cosmos, enough to light up the universe for all conscious observers to enjoy. Near the end of a star’s life, it turns to fusing the built-up ash of helium piled in its core, The fusion of helium produces two products: carbon and oxygen. Now this oxygen would end up forever closed off from the cosmos, locked behind a million-kilometer thick wall of plasma, if it were not for a trick of physics that happens when the star meets its final days. Our Sun will someday experience this fate, about four and a half billion years now. When it grows old and weary, it will swell and turn red, violently spasming as it draws its last fatal breaths. Those gargantuan shudders release material from the star, launching it into the surrounding system, billowed by gusty winds of fundamental particles streaming away at nearly the speed of light. Fit by ragged fit, the Sun will lose its own self, driving away over half its mass into a spreading nebula, the only sign that distant eyes can perceive of yet another noble star laying down its struggle against the all-consuming night. But in that gruesome death, a miracle. The cycle born anew: the hydrogen and helium, the primordial elements of the star, now mixed with carbon and oxygen drift off into the interstellar void, someday to take part in the formation of a new star, a new solar system, a new world wet with water, and, if the chances are perfect, a new life. The post Thirsty? Water is More Common than you Think appeared first on Universe Today.
126 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Do you have any fairytale/disney-esque ttrpgs you could recommend?
Theme: Fairytale Games
Hello there friend! I sure do! We've got a really nice selection here to look at - and don't forget to check out the previously recommended!
I’ll Be Taking That, by porchlightdusk.
You are a goblin, and you are what you hold close: discarded trinkets, unloved baubles, desperate comrades. These precious bits of flotsam give you courage enough to rummage through the treacherous alleys and howling wastes of this world. Venture out from whatever miserable hovel you sprouted and seek the shiny things of the world, oh little chaos beast!
I'll Be Taking That is a tabletop roleplaying game in which a narrator and several players tell the stories of rambunctious goblins in a harsh world. Play is rooted in narrative choices and collective, chaotic joy, supported mechanically by a lightweight inventory-as-skills action resolution system and overflowing random generation tables. IBTT is built on Caltrop Core by Titanomachy RPG and draws heavily on the philosophies of Powered by the Apocalypse systems, among others.
This is a game that situates you into the fiction very well in just the first few pages. Chaotic nonsense is definitely encouraged in this game, and I can feel the undercurrent of mischief sprinkled throughout the book. Trinkets are a core tenet of this game - you will accumulate them as you adventure, and risk breaking them on your worst failures. Your attachment to these trinkets will also rise and fade. If you want a game that lets you embrace your inner gremlin, you might want to check out this game, although be aware - it’s still in development!
Witchblood: Pulp Fantasy Fairy Tales, by Rose on Mars.
The Woods…
…are dark and deep, but they are not lovely. Inch by inch, they close in on the villages of humanity. And in those encroaching wilds dwell the witches. Ancient, primeval, creatures from before the First Eve and still potent today.
In this world, where life is brutish and short, you stand tall. You are a witch's grandchild, or a disinherited noble, or a scion of the good folk. You are part of humanity, but also apart from it, by your own choice or otherwise. You are caught between the expectations of your birth and your own needs and desires.
Run from your past, or chase it. Love freely, or not at all. Stand between the hearth and the wilds. They may not call you a hero, but your name will live on ever after.
Witchblood is a roleplaying game about who you were, who you are, and who you will become. Take on the role of a self-determined, tough-as-you-want pulp fantasy protagonist wandering a world of bloody -- but not always grim -- fairy tales. Wield the powers of birthright and destiny. Explore the darks of the forest and brace yourself against the bite of the wind. Do what’s right, or just what’s right for now.
These are the woods through which Little Red voyaged through; this is a fantasy world that might remind you of The Black Cauldron, or the brambles summoned by the witch in Sleeping Beauty. Character creation involves choosing options that look like classes, as well as pairing together identity tags that can be rated from 0-5, as well as pairing opposing Qualities, also rated from 0-5. You will roll d10s according to your Identities and Qualities.
This is a game where combat and conflict are expected, and stories can be expected to turn darker before becoming lighter. If you like traditional fantasy alongside fairytales of witches and darkness and danger, Witchblood might be for you.
Nexalis, by Cezar Capacle.
We invite you to step aboard your enchanted vessel and set sail on the ethereal ocean known as the Nectar. Nexalis calls you on an awe-inspiring journey across a universe filled with countless uncharted islands, each teeming with unique cultures, mysteries, and magical phenomena.
Nexalis is an otherworldly realm where islands drift amidst an endless cosmic ocean of magical plasma, the Nectar. The Nectar, pulsing with vibrant, ever-shifting colors, mirrors the celestial patterns that guide adventurers on their thrilling journeys. At the heart of this sea lies the Celestial Nexus, an entrancing vortex of astral energy that births islands and renews the world in a constant cycle of creation.
As you journey through the Starbound Isles and the shimmering Nectar ocean, you will encounter vibrant cultures, awe-inspiring landscapes, ancient relics, and enigmatic secrets. Guided by celestial constellations, you will brave untold challenges, learn valuable lessons, and forge lasting bonds with the people and places you encounter.
Nexalis is a bright fantasy game, a genre that focuses on themes of wonder, exploration, and camaraderie. It showcases a vibrant and diverse setting, filled with colorful landscapes and imaginative creatures. Stories in Nexalis tend to be character-driven, often revolving around personal growth, discovery, and the building of relationships.
If you liked movies such as Treasure Planet or Atlantis, this might be the game for you. The magic of this place feels ancient and yet unlike traditional fantasy. The gameplay is guided, meaning that you’ll cycle between two different modes, depending on whether you are in a high energy scene or moments of reflection and role-play.
On the Way to Chrysopoeia, by NessunDove.
On the Way to Chrysopoeia is an epistolary roleplaying game written by Morgane Reynier and illustrated by Marion Bulot. Together with a partner you will be writing a four-handed adventure, first by inventing its two protagonists and then by leading them on a legendary journey. It’s a different way to make up a story in your head: you’ll be reinventing objects and places you see every day, turning them into crucial ingredients for a Great Work of alchemy.
Reality itself and your daily life will bleed into your characters’ fictional journey. What if your favorite museum was the headquarters for a league of mad scientists? What if the path you’re strolling along lead to an unknown city…?
The journey is narrated through the exchange of letters between two characters: the Master and the Disciple. They walk the way of the Athanor— the alchemical Crucible, the pot where explorers melt their research and experiences. Each one is the keeper and judge of their partner’s progress.
This is a great option if you don’t have a large play group but you have someone with whom you’d like to play with who lives in a different time zone. One of you plays a Master, the other a Disciple. The Disciple is on a quest. The Master is stuck at home, due to age or infirmity. The goal: to find Chrysopoeia, a mythic city full of hope and magic - although the specifics are up to you. This is a largely interpretive game, so if you like writing and world building, this is a game for you.
The creator of this game has also created a game called Chrysopoeia & All Around for group play at a table, borrowing from Lasers & Feelings!
Stormwild Islands, by Gizogin.
Welcome to [Stormwild Islands], a tabletop role-playing game. Set in the Stormwild Islands, a cluster of islands in the middle of a perpetual, continent-sized storm, this game explores the aftermath of a generations-long war and the magical damage done to the world as a result.
In terms of genre, [Stormwild Islands] fits most closely with “gaslamp fantasy”, an early industrial setting with a great deal of magic. Spellcasters are commonplace, and they work alongside new innovations like steam engines to create a world that changes very quickly. Golems - humanoid constructs with minds and wills of their own - have been instrumental in bringing about this new wave of industry, but their use in the war and their newfound push for independence might be even more significant. Alongside all of this is a world of spirits, otherworldly creatures who think and act according to completely different rules, and mixing spirits with humans or golems tends to cause all kinds of clashes.
This is a game for the folks who like moving little guys around on a map, especially if you’re familiar with games like D&D or Lancer and you don’t want to stray too far from the familiar. The cycle of play will fluctuate between combat and narrative moments, so expect your characters to be all about fighting their way towards victory. If you like combat and kicking butt, this looks like the game for you.
The player’s guide as linked above is free to download, but if you want the Gamemaster’s Guide, you’ll have to buy it.
The Fae Team, by Almost Bedtime Theatre.
Two years ago, a crack squad of the Sun Guard’s Human Intervention Division was sent to prison by the Faerie Court for a crime they didn’t commit. These woodland creatures promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Faerie Realm underground.
Today, still wanted by the Sun Guard, they survive as freelancers. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire… The Fae Team.
The Fae Team is a role-playing game inspired by The A-Team television show, but puts the players in the roles of skunks, weasels, frogs, etc. and gives them magical powers before sending them through a gargoyle-generated portal into the human world to solve problems. As one does.
The rules of this game depend on a two-stat dichotomy, similar to Lasers and Feelings. You choose a number between 2 to 5, with a higher number indicating that you are good at calm and precise actions, while a low number means you are better at wild and physical actions. There’s also plenty of bits and pieces to make your character unique, such as your faerie gift, and the item that your characters carry around.
A session of this game can be fairly episodic, with an NPC contacting the group for help and giving them a mission that requires entering the human world. While the mission (and its complications) are expected to be generated by the Story Guide, the players are encouraged to describe the world around them and create elements that they get excited about. If you want a game that is lighthearted and magical, check out The Fae Team!
Sunderwald, by Long Tail Games.
In the center of the kingdom of Realm, there exists a dark and unsettling forest. It is known as the Sunderwald.
This is a game about how the woods change us, and how we change the woods. It features a complete, stand-alone game with character creation, enemies, advancement, the whole deal. It is also a legacy tabletop roleplaying game. During play, you will physically and permanently modify this book. Do not be afraid. Scar. The. Book.
The fact that this book is meant to be manipulated and modified makes it feel somewhat akin to a wizard’s grimoire, or a magical artifact. This is a book that asks you to make your own pieces of the world, and might also feel like a kind of achievement system by doing specific things with the game.
While most tasks appear to be resolved with a d6, playing the game involves so much more than rolling dice. Your characters have descriptive skills, might take upon themselves physical and mental scars and consequences, and will grapple with their inventory, wound threshold, background and magic. If you like unfolding a mystery together, if you like manipulating physical objects, and if you like fairy stories or tales like Alice in Wonderland, you might like this game.
Games I’ve Recommended in the Past
Hearts & Ravens, by Martian Machinery.
We’re All Mad Here, by Shanna Germain.
Wanderhome, by Possum Creek Games
Jack Kills Giants, by Andrew White.
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Classic Comic Villains: The Unnatural Selector
Pinup scan from TyrannoMax #21, Cocytus Comics, 1977
Born in a lost corner of the cosmos, the cosmic demigod known as the Unnatural Selector has but one driving concern: life and its propagation. For millions of years he has wandered the cosmos, transplanting populations and terraforming worlds to seed life in new corners of space and in his time-accelerated Genesis Engines, where he can study evolution in all its forms.
Part of this study is the "Tournament of Life," a cruel experiment where champions of a given world face a series of deadly trials and battles against disasters and the Selector's prized monstrosities. The biospheres of those that fail are scoured in a mass extinction event.
The Unnatural Selector was a regular foe of TyrannoMax, and showed up in several Cocytus Comics titles including Johannes Factotum: Professor of Practically Everything, True Life Tales of Science Fiction, and Barton's Mix-Ups!
-
A little sneak peek of a panel from an upcoming multi-page TyrannoMax comic I'm working on, reworked into a pinup. Bonus points if you can guess what the Selector is an anthro of (its not an animal, exactly.)
The Selector is a heavy edit, the main components of which are here.
As with most of my Tyrannomax stuff, the images are first composited, then reverted back to B&W lines, edited and inked, before being recolored from scratch.
I accidentally saved over the unedited background image, and Dall-E 3 is bad at archival.
I probably won't be going into this kind of detail on my process for the full pages, because this here is just one panel.
The Selector is a character concept I've had for awhile, this is just the first time I solidified a visual concept. A mysterious space god with a taste for trials and tournaments is a classic comic villain archetype, after all, and the evolution-obsessed villain fits nicely with dinosaur characters.
Might do a whole Coctyus Character Catalogue entry for him if the druthers hit me.
Prompts:
A cobra standing on a chunk of rock floating in in the cosmic void, it is reared up, threatening, facing toward the viewer, comic panel by jack kirby and john byrne, 1977, angled view
a cosmic nebula in the vague shape of a DNA double helix, comic inks by jack kirby, 1968, trippy, in the style of syd mead
A robed creature stands, one hand outstretched, palm up, toward the camera, he has a lion's head with a mane made of green flames, wearing cosmic-tech gauntlets, imposing, mysterious, foreboding, standing on a rock floating in the starry void, wide stance, standing tall, comic panel by jack kirby and wally wood, 1968, in the style of 1960s marvel comics, eerie cosmic coloration, wide angle, full body. The mood is dramatic.
#tyrannomax#retro comics#unreality#the unnatural selector#ai assisted art#ai edit#dall-e 3#fauxstalgia#Cocytus comics
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
♥Love Is Within Your Reach!
Love and Deepspace, an interactive 3D dating sim, is coming soon! Pre-registration is now open!
■Pre-Reg Now!
loveanddeepspace.onelink.me/AJaA/9vtegoh2
┈┈┈┈┈▾Giveaway▾┈┈┈┈┈
Rewards: $50 Amazon Gift Card*10
How To Enter Raffle:
① Follow @Love_Deepspace
② Repost this post
┈┈┈┈┈┈▾Premise▾┈┈┈┈┈┈
In 2034, humanity received its first message from Deepspace.
Although the transmission remained shrouded in mystery, it ignited people's curiosity to explore the universe and discover unknown civilizations. This is the origin of the epic tale known as the Deepspace Legend.
Yet with the arrival of this cosmic message, creatures called Wanderers appeared and attacked humans. Thus, the Deepspace Hunter was born.
Because of a childhood incident, you were determined to become a Deepspace Hunter. After graduating from college, you joined the Hunters Association and met many companions along the way—Xavier, a mysterious hunter, Rafayel, a passionate artist, and Zayne, a talented cardiac surgeon...
However, your seemingly normal life disappeared on that rainy night. Your childhood "nightmare" has reemerged...
┈┈▾Follow Us▾┈┈
Discord: discord.gg/SHRKYKg4DD
#suirencci#love and deepspace#otome game#otome#dating sim#shining nikki#papergame#i will tag life makeover cause they failed to do romance#life makeover#archosaur#archo wishes they were them
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Hanging Dying dream forever repeating
AKA: the Via-Verse’s version of Alagadda’s origin.
After working off and on on this for months and debating whether or not I should post it, it’s finally, finally here! This takes some elements from other tales, but I made it my own lol.
Anyways, TW: mind-altering, body horror, death by childbirth, heavy usage of blood, emotional child abuse, plague (which has descriptions of killing people), religious themes, child abandonment, mild gore, medical themes, suicide by hanging, slit throats, and someone snaps their own neck at one point, a knife’s briefly mentioned, cosmic horror, chains, brief mentions of drinking, someone plays with another person’s trauma in an attempt to manipulate them.
Sorry about the long list of TWs, but it’s just text, no pictures.
Anyways, here we go! (The document this is saved on is 12 pages long what is wrong with me lol)
Have you ever heard of Alagadda? Probably not, most haven’t these days. It was a kingdom long ago, before it became something else at the cost of memory. Do you wish to know what happened? …Good.
It all started as most stories do: before anything noteworthily weird happened. There was a king, there was a queen, she was pregnant, they loved each other very much, and the kingdom loved them. Nothing that made it seem too different from most kingdoms.
Except, of course, for one thing. The king had a certain secret, one that would hand the ink and pen to the hands of fate for Alagadda.
He had a love for forbidden magics. His nights spent at the Wanderer’s Library, writing the names of Gods and various sights across the sea of universes. Eventually, the Way he used just closed up, but that didn’t matter. He already had what he needed to grant his greatest wish.
Dyo’s surroundings felt like a dream to him. A faint memory of a dream from centuries back, that was what this was. He knew he wasn’t in Alagadda anymore, and he felt off. Was this fear, or bewilderment? And what were these colors? And why wasn’t this entirely unfamiliar?
He could hear birds chirping somewhere on his left. Why was the sound’s location so clear? And what kind of birds were these, with a song so beautiful and clear, something he could sing along to if he possessed vocal chords?
What was this strange, new, beautiful world? The sky above him, it was blue? Was that the word for it? Why did he know the word?
Gosh, if only he still had his body. Then he could investigate this strange new world he was thrown into. See the birds. Maybe sing.
The king wished that him, his queen, and his future child would live forever. The kingdom loved them, and he loved his queen, so there was no problem he could think of. Plus he had a common trait to most mortals: thantophobia. He was a strange man driven by fear. Not very strange, actually, when comparing him to others.
He whispered into the abyss, and three brothers answered. The youngest draped in darkness, his pale face standing out with a sliver grin. The middle a strange mismash of armor and arms, dust and clutter. The eldest of pale colors, faced in pure shadows and towering over the night sky. Three ways to die. A deal was made, a game of cards for immortality.
He fought for this immortality, he really did. He was able to top the two younger. But the eldest defeated him, far, far too easily, crushing the built up hope. And then they returned to the shadows without a word, leaving him alone.
The queen gave birth three days later. The child survived, but she faded away. The child didn’t cry, covered in their mother’s blood. The king didn’t understand why, and did not hold the child. So they remained, wrapped in dark clothes by the midwife, for someone else to take care of.
Time seemed to return to a familiar melding for Dyo. He couldn’t tell how many hours it took before the sun began to set. He knew that soon, a familiar night would appear. He felt strangely sad, he rather liked this new day. But he couldn’t really hear the birds anymore, and he was rather tired of being stuck in one place. Perhaps something familiar would help this horrid wait for some poor soul to come across him.
However, a new sound came from his right. Faint, but approaching. He had heard variations of this sound back home, and it sometimes appeared in this new daytime, but never was the crushing of leaves back home, and never was it approaching him here.
Footsteps. The stepper was probably wearing boots, from the sound of it. He honestly couldn’t wait, he really wanted to move around this new world. See the birds. He wondered what new colors they would be.
The footsteps got closer and closer, until finally a shadow covered Dyo. He could feel himself smiling. He never smiled back home. He could get used to this new world. He felt a gloved hand grab him, and hold it up to the mysterious face of the new being. The face…
It was probably the most horrific face Dyo had ever seen.
The plague came after that. Sores spotted the people of the kingdom, blood and bile coming from screeching mouths. The screams of the people echoing in the streets for years. The inescapable smell of death. But the king never heard them, never smelled rot or tasted bile.
The king had hidden deep in his castle, sobbing, mourning his queen, and only his queen for all those years. Unaware of the state of his people. He had put the lords in charge of it all, the kingdom and his child. His child…
His child grew strange. They were quiet, and rarely smiled, but weren't mean. They did try to help the people, as much as a child could. Sometimes, when there was no hope that someone would survive, they would sit by their side until they fell, no matter how the doctors warned against it. Strangely, the child never grew ill themself. Despite most people accepting the child, there were… rumors about the kid. Whispers of being the devil’s child and witchcraft, which the child somewhat heard. They didn’t believe it, but… it explained why their father never played with them like other fathers did.
10 years after it all, the king finally listened, having returned from his sorrows. He heard the screams. He saw the blood, and he saw the corpses. But he didn’t blame himself, no.
He blamed the child. He accused them of not being his child, of having been a spirit possessing them sent by the brothers to torment him, bringing the plague with them wherever they went. A monster that must have killed the real child.
The child didn’t understand. They had never met their father before this, but they heard they weren’t supposed to do this. They were supposed to love their children. That was what they saw with the fathers in the street. Was this why he never showed himself? Were they really a monster? A fake? Were those whispers right?
The king ordered the child to be locked away in their room, and never let out. Proclaimed them to be a contamination spreading monster. Some believed and some didn’t, but the ones that didn’t didn’t do anything to stop it.
Perhaps they were supposed to be locked away, perhaps there was something wrong with them. That was what they wondered, anyway. Their father hid away from them for so long, after all. Perhaps this was the reason. Perhaps they were born of dust and shadows, their mother unable to bear the beast she created. Perhaps everyone was right, perhaps they doomed the townsfolk they loved by existing.
The child began to cry.
There was something completely off about the figure’s face. It had the same mask-face as the people back home, but there was something off about its construction. The mask felt too organic, the yellow eyes uncovered, sunken deep in its head. Too expressive, too wrong, that was the eyes. It’s eyes, something changed in Dyo upon seeing the creature’s eyes.
Memories began to appear in his head, of long before, of a state of wakefulness, of trees and blue birds, and colors! So many forgotten colors, bright orange paints like the sky when the sun rose, the green grass and trees he could get lost in, a blue sky, a blue sky! And purple, purple was his closest friend’s favorite.
His childhood friend. The king’s child. By the stars, the king had a child! Why couldn’t he remember more about this lost child?! What happened to them?
Dyo didn’t see the strangely beautiful abomination for long, as it wordlessly put it in a dark brown bag. Brown, he could remember the color of tree trunks and dying leaves and the child’s eyes. The child…
Though now he was in darkness, he could tell the entity would let him out sooner or later, it had too. Perhaps there were more wonderful joys he had forgotten that the entity would show him. Though, why weren’t all these joys back home? Why were they hidden away? And what happened to his friend…
The king tried again the next morning. He knew he may not be able to resurrect his wife, or his child, but he was willing to try to give himself immortality again. Not with the brothers, of course. He simply called into the void, hoping someone, anyone would answer.
Something did come out, draped in dark robes and with a hidden face behind bandages, if it even had a face. They called themself an ambassador of a faceless being. They promised the king much more than immortality. They said they could make the king a God. A God… a God could bring back his wife and child. A God would never die. He could have it all, as long as he did what the thing said. The king smiled for the first time in ten years.
Meanwhile, our child looked out their window. A small wave to a boy their age they got along with, but the boy didn’t see. Perhaps the boy would forget about them. And they’d be up here forever. If they weren't such a clever child, perhaps they would try to jump out the open window. Alas, the child didn’t wish to die. Maybe not wanting to sacrifice themselves for the kingdom was part of being a monster. Not wanting to kill the twisted, sick devil that cursed the town-
It was at that time a crow landed at the window. The child liked crows, even though their father didn’t, as they were always nearby when they went to visit their mother’s grave, back before the tower. It was strangely comforting to them. So the child then took a piece of lavender from their shelf. It died when they plucked it, and it was rotting, being here for years, but the child didn’t care. They placed the lavender in front of the crow, and it picked it up. It almost seemed to smile before flying off. The child felt better. Maybe they were not a monster. Crows seemed more trustworthy than the king anyway.
Time was melding again in the bag. Or perhaps it was Dyo not liking the dark. It felt like he was floating in the darkest void, where no one could hear him scream, even if he had the vocal cords necessary. Gosh, perhaps the entity would give Dyo a body so he could actually talk!
A sudden blast of light and another gloved hand later, he was out of the bag. Apparently the entity lived in some sort of cave. He could make out some sort of cloth in the background. He didn’t know why, but Dyo figured it was called a blanket. People… slept on blankets. They never slept back in Allagadda.
He saw a table with another cloth on it, this one not a blanket for sleep. It was soaked in red blood. Medical cloth. This was a doctor of some sort. The entity placed him on said table, laying on the cave’s wall. The blood was dry, but the blanket was somewhat wet. Attempts of cleaning blood that never really worked. The doctor stared at him, before staying one sentence, in a dark, echoey voice.
“I know you are alive.”
Three years passed, and the kingdom grew strange. The king started to paint over anything that wasn’t black, white, yellow, or red. His favorite colors. More people started to wear masks, masquerade masks, forever. No one seemed to question any of this, and just went along.
The child meanwhile, disappeared. They had attempted escape twice before, and the lack of fighting back once they were caught again made them think escape wouldn’t be much of an issue. As the plague had been fading out, the king simply assumed they returned to the darkness they came from. This is not what happened, they merely escaped, without anyone noticing this time. Though some suspicion was casted on the new young court jester, theories they let out the kid, nothing ever came of it.
The child had grabbed a mask and ran off with it. No one was to see their face, no one was to know who they were. They cut their hair and changed their name. They ran to the town doctor, and claimed to be an orphan child seeking apprenticeship. The doctor took pity on the kid, and took them in. No one realized who they really were. No one claimed them a child of the devil, or a witch.
Dyo wished he could respond to this, he really could. He really wished that he and the entity could have spoken this whole time, about the sky, and the birds, and all these questions that were in his metaphorical brain. But he had no host, and he couldn’t look into this thing’s mind. Maybe he was still getting used to this dimension? He simply frowned. The entity tilted his head a bit.
“Huh, I thought you could still speak in this state. I must have overestimated you, my apologies. Hold on.” The entity picked him up again, and flipped Dyo around. Now they could only see the cave wall. The entity better have a good explanation for this when he actually gets a body.
He could still hear, however. He could hear the bag opening, tools being taken out, as well as something soft. Sewing, wet tearing sounds, soft fleshy noises? How did he not feel any of those in the bag!? And why did the entity think he wouldn’t want to see this over a boring old cave wall?
After what seemed like hours, he was flipped back around to see the entity’s crude creation. Flesh draped over bones, a tear in the “face” to simulate a mouth, bulging eyes and no hair. A small mannikin of flesh.
“I could have done better, but you will just destroy it anyway. No use wasting more spare parts than necessary.” The entity sighed before placing Dyo over its face.
Finally, he was getting pretty bored.
The years went on. No one mentioned the king’s child anymore. It was getting harder to see any colors that weren’t the king’s favorite, even in the yellowing sky.
The people began to change as well. They seemed to be losing themselves, more and more thinking merely of parties and wine. It didn’t affect everyone, but most that weren’t inflicted ran to other kingdoms. Eventually, the only people not affected were the town doctor, and our child. Our child…
Our child wasn’t much of a child anymore, and despite having hid it so well, they never forgot their past. They could still be found laying the last bits of rotting lavender at the Queen’s grave. Sometimes, they’d talk to the crows, simple little greetings, but still.
You see, that one crow in the old prison, it would come back. The child would talk to it eventually, when they ran out of lavender. They were friends. Once, the crow even gave a piece of rotting lavender to the child. They never forgot that. They even took it with them when they escaped, though they had now lost that decaying flower. The child spoke better with crows than people since then.
Though one day, 20 years after the day the king first invoked the three brothers, it was time for the final step of the thing’s plan. No one could have guessed. No one but the king knew the thing. And the king was too entranced to question its word. No one could have guessed what it wanted.
“Thank you, you do not know how frustrating it is to need to talk but have no mouth! I am sincerely grateful-”
“Why are you here?”
“...Huh?”
“Why are you here and not… there?” The entity’s voice was cold and stern. Clearly not a fan of Alagadda.
“Oh, right, I was so ungratefully thrown out of my home for daring to be worried about my king, daring to question the ambassador, daring to care about my people!” Dyo was still, admitting, getting used to puppeting a body in this world, and this body didn’t have all the necessary parts to move, but he tried dramatically throwing his hand to his face and his other hand where his heart would be. The intent could probably be read however, judging by the entity’s reaction.
“Sounds about right. There is no care in that kingdom, no sense. The moment someone begins to fall out of line…”
“Not a fan huh?”
“Of course not! That kingdom is an artery in the body of the pestilence. It is filled with animal instincts, only chaos, consuming, destruction with no rhyme or reason, and that ambassador would not have it any other way.”
“...Have you been there before?” A potential way back. As much as he liked this new world, he did want to go back. He couldn’t get revenge without going back. The entity hesitated before giving their answer.
“Yes. I am waiting until I have made enough progress on my cure to retur-”
“How did you get there? Have some unfinished business I need to, well, finish.” The entity froze. Something about that question thawed away all that cold from the entity. In there, somewhere, was something afraid to lose him.
“You… Want to go back there? What could there be to justify entering that place again, when you have just begun to find yourself again?”
Dyo tilted the fleshy thing’s head, and paused.
They found the king in the middle of his court, hanging by a rope. But no one seemed to care. They simply threw him in the grave, not bothering to remove the rope or even bury him. He just laid there, as crows feasted on the body. Even the town doctor, so far unaffected by anything, found herself uncaring to the king. Her apprentice never really cared for the king at all anyway.
That night, however, they still couldn’t sleep. They still wondered what could have happened to prompt this, so they looked out the window. What if the king really did love them, and this was their fault? No, that couldn’t be the case. Perhaps they’d see a crow outside, something to ground them in reality.
However, they didn’t see that. Instead, they saw… something slowly moving, for walking or even stepping didn’t feel right, through the street, rope around their neck. They couldn’t make out a single other feature, but enough was enough, and they could read context clues, they were not sticking around any longer. The town was going mad, and the apprentice and the doctor could not do anything about it. They had to leave, they had to. They panicked, putting on their mask, before they ran downstairs in an attempt to get their superior out with them…
The doctor was dead. Simply lying there, throat slit. Knife next to her. Blood was everywhere around her. Far too much blood for this type of wound.
The apprentice was horrified, and ran outside. It didn’t matter how, they had to get out of here as quickly as possible, and never look back. They’d mourn later.
But as they ran, they heard something behind them. Something was chasing them, but that wasn’t what they heard. It must have been floating, as they could also hear faint sounds of wind. No, the apprentice heard the thing talk. The voice sounded like a wind chime, neutral and sing-song. The apprentice didn’t want to listen to what it was saying. It clearly had bad intentions.
“THIS IS MY KINGDOM NOW. ACCEPT YOUR DESTINY AND TURN AROUND.”
The apprentice just kept running, and running, and not turning back. This wasn’t a home anymore. They didn’t know anything about the thing, but they knew the thing didn’t have good intentions. They knew their kingdom wouldn’t be a good place to be. Especially with the blood they felt on the ground.
And they did it. They ran all the way out. Perhaps they were tired, perhaps they thought they were safe, but they looked back. They’d never been anywhere else before.
A chain wrapped around their torso. Knocking them down, pulling them back into the kingdom, back with that… thing.
“YOU FOOLISH, FOOLISH CREATURE. YOUR DYING BLOOD WILL FLOW TO THE HIDDEN ONE, AND YOU SOUL WILL ROT IN YOUR COT FOREVERMORE. NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU. IT IS YOUR PURPOSE.”
The apprentice was terrified, they really were, but they didn’t show it. They knew damn well that no matter where this was going, they would die. But they knew the thing wanted them to bleed as they died. So maybe, if they died bloodlessly, they’d be safe from the… thing. They didn’t know, but they didn’t want this thing to have their soul. If they were right, perhaps they’d be somewhere safe, far away from this thing. Perhaps their mom would be there. Their knowledge of anatomy left them with one real option now, even if they were scared to die. It was on their own terms, at least.
Before the apprentice could fully be dragged back into the town, they wrapped their shaking hands around their own neck, and turned it as hard as they could.
“...what do you mean by finding myself? I’ve always known myself!” Dyo smiled, trying to ignore how much he only remembered after waking up here. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the same old Dyo. The entity’s head tilted.
“Alagadda used to not be a dream-state pocket world. It was a kingdom here once, until the Ambassador appeared. He changed people into caricatures of themselves obsessed with the king. Take yourself, for instance.” Dyo wasn’t smiling anymore. He could remember it now, figments of what Alagadda was. Blue sky. Their friend, the king’s child, a child around his age at the time, who he was close with, but disappeared one day, and then everything was foggy.
“When I knew you, you loved theater so much. You were so happy, I remember your smile so well, even after all this time. You wanted to be an actor. You became the court jester instead, suddenly obsessed with the king. It took a toll on you. You were miserable the last time I saw you, and when we met again today, I assumed you were warped so much that you were just… gone.”
Dyo remembered a lot more as they said this. The theater. There was a theater, where no actors killed themselves at the end. Where dying in the play didn’t mean anything for you. He had wanted to be there, with the actors themselves. They seemed to be having so much fun, and he’d practice his silly little improvised monologues to his friend. His friend, his only friend at the time…
They still couldn’t remember who this entity was. Strange. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could get the entity to jog his memory…
“I missed you. I mourned you. I, I should stop. This is a lot to take in-”
“No, please continue. Who, who was I, to you?”
It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t have to matter! The king doubted this kid even existed, they didn’t have to be in the kingdom. It wouldn’t affect the plan at all. They were entirely optional, and had willingly thrown away a chance at eternity. Strange. They did not accept the purpose of being locked away forever. So they left the child to rot away, feasted on by bugs and crows.
The king was hanging at their throne again, twitching, faint breaths, but no words. The three lords and the court jester each also hanged in a different corner of the court, each noose done too tight, blood dripping from their necks. The Ambassador held up a golden cup, and blood, all of the blood throughout the entire kingdom, flowed into it. The Ambassador went to the twitching, shaking king, who began to slowly reach for the figure.
“WITH THESE, THEIR BLOOD, IT IS THE HANGED KING’S.”
They held up the cup for the king, who held it himself. He held the cup behind his veil, to his small, rotting lips. He began to sip from the cup.
And then he dropped it.
“...We were close, very close.” The entity said. Dyo simply waited for them to continue, but they didn’t.
“...And…”
“My apologies. I tend not to dwell on the past, considering how warped the kingdom has become, so I tend not to talk about it. No one has heard of the kingdom anyway.”
“Heh. Strange that I can’t remember you though. Can you turn into a bird or something?” the entity let out the smallest of laughs.
“No, no, I just was successful in leaving my old life behind.”
In all fairness, Dyo wasn’t entirely honest anymore. His disappeared friend and this mysterious person claiming to have been his friend… it couldn’t entirely be a coincidence. But something felt… off. Something else happened. This wasn’t just an Alagaddan who left, something changed about them. Sure, there was no influence from the Ambassador, but there was something else Dyo couldn’t put a metaphorical finger on. Maybe if they played their cards right, he could get the figure to reveal it. Reveal if they could be friends again.
“Well then, what’s your new life like? This boring old cave doesn’t really jog the imagination, you know?” Maybe they’d give away a God or two with the details.
“I seek to cure the pestilence.”
“For anyone in particular?”
“Humanity.”
“...Why, though?”
“I believe that curing such a horrible ailment is simply the right thing to do, and it is why I am still here.”
Ok this wasn’t going anywhere. Why they are still here, though…
“What do you mean, why you’re still here? What happened to you?”
The hanged king was dead, the hanged king was alive. The kingdom was dead, the kingdom was alive. No one was truly dead, and the only one truly alive was the Ambassador, the real one in control. Everything was on repeat. Everyone would go through the motions of partying, drinking, forever and ever. The kingdom didn’t exist and it did exist. It was somewhere else. No one back on Earth remembered it.
Everyone would go through their motions, like a play, of sorts. Everyone had their roles to play. The lords walked with the people, and the king wrigged and withered chained on his throne, but the Ambassador was the one in charge. It was like a dream for them. Everyone only remembered what they wanted them to remember, and that didn’t include that child.
That child… the Ambassador barely thought about them. They were dead. They were dead, and they’d never know what the kingdom became. That was that.
The Ambassador was intelligent. They knew everything that had gone done in the walls of the kingdom, the many that entered, the few who’d left. They had trapped another goddess, one of the moon, in a cycle of trying to destroy the king, being attacked and almost killed by them, before returning to the sky to rest, before coming down again once per year. They even had found a use for the prison meant to contain that child, keeping the bird who’d betrayed the queen in there before repeating the cycle. They knew a lot.
But they were not entirely correct about that child.
“Whatever do you mean by that, Dyo?”
“It sounds like something should’ve killed you, but didn’t. Whatever happened-”
“Enough about me. I am afraid I have come across much more selfish than I truly am, I do not wish to dwell any more on me, let alone my past.”
“No, no. Tell me what happened. Now.” Dyo was getting impatient. This being clearly was hiding something. Dyo didn’t like when things were hidden. He needed to know it all.
“No.”
“I don’t think you know what’s really happened to me, do you? I… I am royalty these days! You better explain exactly who you are now!” Dyo forced the body up, and stared down the being. They didn’t look like much, muscle-wise.
“No.”
“You have no one, do you? That’s why you’re all alone here. No one would miss you if I were to-”
The entity ripped the mask right off the body, cutting Dyo off.
“I really let myself hope…” it said. Its eyes were filled with fire. But now, Dyo felt a bit more… comfortable here. He could speak in the entity’s mind.
“How rude. I bet if your father cared about you he’d be very disappointed.”
Dyo couldn’t really see where the entity was taking him, but that remark seemed to make them go faster. Seemed to, as they were rather slow either way.
“Why are you gripping me so hard? I thought we were friends!”
“We were, yes. You have made it clear that we are not now.” They did loosen up a bit though. Nice to know Dyo had found a way under their skin.
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“Yes, and I still do. Here we are.”
They were back in that field. A couple of dark birds flew off as they arrived. Maybe they were the same ones from before, maybe not.
The entity left him on the ground, face down, before beginning to leave. Dyo could not believe this rudeness!
“Hey, don’t leave me like this! At least let me see the stars!”
The entity didn’t respond.
It all started unlike how most stories do, with a young human snapping their own neck in a final act of defiance towards a God. Said God had then returned to their kingdom, but the human had woken up somewhere else.
Said somewhere wasn’t too different from the place they left, but there were more trees, and there was no kingdom. Or was there? It was very dark, the person couldn’t tell. Was this what death was like? They slowly got up, putting a hand on a tree. No reason to stay here all alone, when they could explore this strange world. …Until he heard a coo behind him.
Turning around, they saw someone. A crow. The person let out a small smile.
“Hello,” Said the human. After everything that happened that night, it was nice to see something, anything familiar. They sat down in front of the crow.
And then it wasn’t a crow. It was a being wearing shadows like a robe over their pale body. Its gray eyes stared into the person, into all they ever were. Horrible and beautiful.
“Oh.” The human did not react with fear, or even shock. Strangely, the figure still brought them comfort. Perhaps the being had been there their whole life, under the appearance of the crow. Perhaps it was some sort of guardian angel. Or perhaps it was one strange coincidence. It didn’t matter anymore.
“GREETINGS.” A voice akin to if whispers in the darkness spoke loudly instead came from the thing.
The two simply sat there for a bit. Until they began to talk again. About the kingdom, and about the thing that warped it in its own image. About the thing that drove it. About the curse that was still in the human’s blood, even if they escaped the kingdom. Even if their mind was clean. This burning red malice, it still lingered in the kingdom. In humanity. And whether they liked it or not, the human was a part of this now.
A deal was struck there. The king was never correct about their child’s identity, they were never some spreader of disease sent by the brothers to torment the king. They were merely a child who wanted to help the people of Alagadda. But they were not a mere child anymore, and the people of Alagadda could not be helped anymore either. They were consumed by a plague of madness, one the human could never hope to stop with what they currently knew.
So, the human would perfect a cure to the madness of spilt blood, eradicate it, and then they would return to the darkness they were in now. Or die trying. This was to be the human’s purpose, to cleanse the red-stained madness, one they took without hesitation. Only once it was gone, or if the physical burden on their rotten form grew too much, should they return here. To be a savior, to free the people of Alagadda, and help this… thing, that the king was wrong to use as an insult, who was better family than the king. This was something that the human accepted.
…Oh, who am I kidding?
They were not human anymore.
Come on, where was it? They knew it was somewhere in this journal- aw, there it was, right at the beginning. A simple list of names. Not every name, just the ones they could remember. A collection of them, lined up neatly. So many still unaccounted for.
The people of Alagadda. All gone from life and from memory. They couldn’t hope to remember every single name, but they put the ones they could here, as a memorial. It was necessary, since they were the only one who could mourn Alagadda.
They had hesitated at first, reading his name again, but it was needed at this point. His name was one of the first ones written, as the memories of him were some of the fresher, even now. They were close once, very close. But he changed. Sure, the kingdom changed everyone, but once away from the kingdom, he was still much more cruel. They did not wish for any part of this man to be remembered anymore, but they couldn’t just erase it. They couldn’t erase that boy who saw he was having a bad day and created poetry on the spot just to make them feel better, playing in the flowers, laughing together…
The doctor crossed out Dyo’s name. Never again, not even in death. Never ever, ever again. That boy was gone.
…Though, they figured the old them was gone too. They were not a quiet child worried about a father who never looked at him with love. They couldn’t care less about the king anymore. They were helping people now. They were untraceable to the kingdom now, no one needed to know, no one, no one.
No matter. It still hurt, just how much the two had grown apart. Perhaps it was meant to be, the two being driven apart. Maybe they should’ve stopped being sentimental and smashed the damned mask to smithereens.
This was why they didn’t sleep that night. What if Dyo came back? What if somehow, he saw the light? Or what if he came back to attack them again, and they had another chance to crush him?
But all throughout the night, Dyo did not return. It was quiet. Under different circumstances, they believed it would have been calming. But they couldn’t relax, Dyo could show up again, or someone sick could show up at their door needing help.
But as the sun rose, no one showed up. A part of them was sad Dyo didn’t show up again, but they buried that part of themselves. Their time as a child, as an allagadan, ended centuries ago. They were a professional, a doctor, they couldn’t keep thinking about the past, there were people they needed to save.
#via#via rambles#scp#scp foundation#scp fandom#scp alagadda#scp 2264#the hanged king#the ambassador#scp three brothers death#the three brothers#scp three brothers#scp 035#scp 049
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Codename kids next door headcannons
Numbuh 19th Century's real name is "Albert Lewis"
The Galactic Kids Next Door have tried making a bootleg omnitrix watch.
The boyfriend helmet technology was made by the GKND, and the Galactic Kids Next Door supreme leader uses it's tech to mind control their operatives.
Father and Grandfather's powers stem from their emotions via their hatred of kids, and going with my "The GKND are mind controlled by its supreme leader headcannon" the brainwashing amplified Nigel's dislike for adults all the way up to 11 which activated his powers.
The previous leader of the GKND was actually a fair and kind and powerful alien that's the pure reason the KND exists at all, they gave kids the knowledge and skills to defend themselves so that the universe can be safe for kids.
If they were to learn about what the current leader has done to the organization, they'd be heartbroken.
In the middle ages, the KND treehouses looked more fantasy based and whimsical, like something you'd see in a fairy tale.
When the KND travel through space, they meet a pair of alien adult hero's that are a parody of Wander and Sylvia, the galactic kids next door can't stand them due to them annoying the crap out of their operatives and evacuating planets scheduled for decommissioning.
Numbuh Three has alot of knowledge about yokai (Japanese supernatural creatures)
Numbuh Five and Cree's older brother lives in France, and they mail letters to each other all the time.
Numbuh Two's Dad is a fighter pilot in the military
Numbuh One's Mother's name is "Olivia"
Numbuh Ten's real name is "Ashley"
Bonus round: KND Multiverse headcannons
Theres a knd sector in the TROLLS universe, and they battle villains in music battles
Kid Cosmic is an honorary operative after his encounter with Numbuh 362. They get along well like siblings. Numbuh 363 doesn't like The Kid a lot, but Kid tries to be really friendly with him and even gets him to calm down whenever he gets mad.
Numbuh Five is a powerpuff girls fan, she's even a honorary powerpuff girl and in return she made Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup honorary operatives.
The Gravity Falls Kids Next Door aren't as hostile towards teenagers like most operatives, In fact, they get along with Wendy and her freinds greatly.
The Bikini Bottom KND don't have much of a problem with SpongeBob and Patrick since they don't view them as typical adults. They also really like Sandy Cheeks as she supplies them with her technology. They're neutral with Squidward. They don't have a high opinion on Mr.Krabs after hearing about that "Krabby Land" scam he pulled.
When Mac and Bloo joined the Kids Next Door, they've been rescuing abandoned imaginary friends or freinds that are being mistreated by adults. Lots of KND operatives have even been going to Foster's to adopt their own imaginary friends, and they've been happy with them ever since.
Timmy Turner, Chester, and AJ joined the KND, Timmy supplies his sector and other sectors with magical 2x4 technology. Everyone is baffled on how he managed to get the mysterious energy source for them.
#cartoons#cartoon network#codename kids next door#codename knd#galactic kids next door#galactic knd#stop the gknd#kid cosmic#kidsnextdoormultiverse#kids next door#trolls#powerpuff girls#gravity falls#spongebon squarepants#fosters home for imaginary friends#fairly oddparents#headcannons
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just when Prophecy thought she had her powers under control, she was proven wrong.
High school was a big transition for everypony. Hormones, new friends, more work, the whole deal. But for Prophecy, all of that only exacerbated her powers. Sure, her magic had been growing stronger for awhile now, since puberty began in middle school. But at least she was able to deal with it then, high school was a whole new racket.
There was no telling when she’d get a vision. They popped up at the most random times, and it was impossible to explain to her classmates and teachers. They had no clue what it was like. That was the curse of her so-called “gift,” it was so rare that there weren’t many ponies who could relate.
All things considered, today was going pretty well. No magical outbursts this time. Prophecy was even starting to talk to some ponies! Not much more than friendly chatter but still, it was something. She was starting to feel at ease.
“You wanna hang out with us at lunch, Pro?”
“Oh my stars, would I!”
Prophecy was thrilled, she was finally making some friends! She’d been talking to a few others during group discussions and between classes and they were really hitting it off, plus they were upperclassmares who could help her get settled. She didn’t expect to be invited into the group this soon!
“I mean, yes, I would love to!”
She bashfully corrected herself, not wanting to seem too desperate. Then she followed them into the classroom to start the day’s lessons.
“Good morning, class!”
The teacher chirped out, a bit too enthusiastic for this early in the morning.
“We have a lot to do today, so let’s get right into the lesson, shall we?”
Prophecy got seated, doing her best to pay attention and ignore the constant awkward feeling that had been plaguing her recently.
It’s okay. Why are you so worried? Nothing has happened today!
She thought to herself, her eyes absentmindedly wandering across the room as she focused on quieting the chaos in her brain.
But then she spotted something that would cause even more chaos.
A poster hanging above the teacher’s desk, one she hadn’t seen before. Probably new. It showed an Ursa Minor lounging lazily on a tree branch, with the words “Hang in There” sprawled across it. Cheesy and unassuming, any other student wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
But even as Prophecy willed herself to turn her focus back to the lesson, her mind wouldn’t get off that poster. The same tingly feeling came back to her horn, the one she thought she finally got a break from. The feeling she dreaded.
But all hopes of being able to ignore that sensation were futile. All of a sudden, a horrible vision plagued Prophecy, a vision of that lazy cosmic bear on the poster turning viscous and tearing into the school. Everypony would be in danger! It felt so real that it almost felt like it was happening right then and there!
“Prophecy?”
The teacher’s voice was barely perceivable through the chaos in the filly’s mind.
“Do you need to step outside?”
“The Ursa Minor! It’s coming! It’s coming for us all!—“
She clamped her hooves over her mouth as fast as she blurted this out, horrified at herself that she’d said it out loud.
“Oy vey…”
“Prophecy, that wasn’t what I asked.”
The teacher was gentle in her tone, but it was tinged with a disappointed and condescending air.
“Keep your daydreaming to yourself, alright dear?”
Just then, her classmates burst out into laughter, like she had just told them the most ridiculous foal’s tale ever. But it wasn’t a foal’s tale! It was a real and serious vision! It could very well happen!
Prophecy was humiliated. She’d tried so hard to keep her visions to herself, she’d tried so hard to make ponies like her and she was finally getting somewhere! But she blew it. Once again her powers ruined everything. Now she felt like she couldn’t show her face in this classroom again.
“I…I have to go to the nurse’s office.”
She uttered out weakly, slinking out of her chair and trying to avoid the gazes of her giggling peers.
In truth, she was going to hide. She didn’t know where, but she didn’t want to come back out and show her face again for a long time.
~~~~~~~~~~
Previous: Overthinking It
Next: Plain Sight
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Falling
...
..
.
Freely
...
..
.
Silently
...
..
.
Awake
#my writing#poetry#poem#experimental poetry#creative writing#meditation#awakening#spiritual awakening#astral projection#astral plane#tales from a cosmic wanderer#out of body experience#spilled ink#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#writers and poets#quick write
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
@celestialcomedy : x
Honestly? Jester looks like a mess. His hair is wild and whipping around in the air. Clothes a torn here and there and hands twitching. Tall tale signs that he’s gotten into something that got out of hand enough to look like he stepped into a nasty whirlwind.
The good news is that he kept his mask in tact. Enough that he’s able to take it off with a tired sigh. Rubbing the stream dripping from the mouth and eyes of it. Maybe its from being so tired that not even his earings could keep his face in tact? The void is dripping, melting endlessly as he keeps bent forward .
Ears flicker upwards, feeling the gentle movement of someone touching his hair. Something of weight in their hand, a comb or brush maybe, finding its way through the troublesome locks of hair. Holding Jesters hair it gives the impression of holding sunlight, whispy and ready to slip through their fingers.
Despite taking their mask off, their hair helps cover the maskless void. Ears flicking every so often as tail flickers beside him. He didn’t say anything to whom is brushing out his hair. Instead shoulders relaxed. A hum leaves the faceless, hard to tell what the tune is, but it sounds like something one would hear in deep space.
Through their occasional visits where they would cross paths with this odd giant they met decades ago, this emperor really wouldn’t have guessed they’d find themselves fixing the jester’s hair; if not for the quiet impulse, their rare boredom had already made that decision for them. In their empire, for a jester that wandered without a court and without a crown to rein in his whereabouts, they saw this old fellow as a guest. They meant their people little harm, and more often than not they found that this jester only ever came in quick fits of laughter to bring, for it seemed they only liked to find themselves as entertainment rather than a better fit for their own throne. For any incapable mortal who wouldn’t have the slightest clue on taking care of this type of nest of hair, if they weren’t already a follower in this rankless, cosmic being who’d know him personally, they’d find it near impossible to brush with how near light it’d felt. Yet in this Divinity’s hands, when they had the help of their own crown taking on the near form of sharpened, dark claws, their inky gloved fingers had found some of their companion’s hair more tangible with a lock of hair or two.
Perhaps for near godly hair that quite frankly was about as light as air and about as hot as a warm summer’s kiss, they could only be grasped by something of godly and divine tools. In one lamb hand, with the help of an old brush that looked as rustic, silver, and old as they, all they had was a simple brush to help part the knots in their companion’s mane. With so much hair and so much limitless time, it was rare for a ruler such as they to take on the task of the mundane. God or not, it’s a bizarre sight for a ram such as they to partake in. By the spirits, if they hadn’t found the jester resting deep within the heart of their own Darkwood, they wouldn’t have heard the end of this from their very own followers for days!
“You didn’t think you’d ever see me again, my silly fellow?” With their crown already at work with straightening the other’s hair as it was, the Emperor has to retort to using their old mortal tongue. Their words came coarse yet friendly, their tone being a rough side effect of Heket’s yellow crown the moment they came to steal it in their frog’s resurrection; a price of trading their throat in taking in another crown as a living vessel. Without the help of their main crown to cover up it with a smoother noise illusion, they had to make due with the raw flaws of their genuine voice. “You’ve come a long way just for a spot of rest, it seems. I can only bet you’ve run into one of my old friends back a ways, hmm?”
#rp thread#canon#celestialcomedy#long post cw //#((its a lovelt backdrop to the whole tired yet relaxing vibe you have!))#((I love it!!))
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Baldur's Gate 3-Inspired Horror Movie Recs
Ah, Baldur's Gate 3. The heroic fantasy dating sim where you can seek adventure, romance, and glory as a character of your own design...while encountering an endless parade of terrors that would make the strongest horror fan cringe. From giant cosmic horror brains to armies of undead, from murder cults to haunted houses, your hero has a lot to overcome. They've got a lot on their mind...and in it, since the mind flayer tadpole chewing on their brain is the first horror they encounter!
If you enjoyed the horror of Baldur's Gate 3, here's a list of movie recommendations inspired by the various terrors on display in the game.
Want more of the cosmic terror, slimy organic architecture, and body horror provided by mind flayers? Check out The Void. A romp of practical effects showing off so very many slimy, icky monsters, body horror, and eventual cosmic horror.
Do you enjoy the zombies, ghouls, and skeletons wandering through the game? Watch the original Night of the Living Dead. You'll see where all the undead horrors of Baldur’s Gate began!
Love Raphael and all of the devils of Hell? Look into John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness. The movie throws open the gates to a marvelously weird, gross, and very much damned hell. Not as sexy as Raphael, for sure, but genuinely horrifying.
Did you think the haunted house questline for Oskar was fun? I suggest Crimson Peak, set in a haunted house full of lies, terrifying ghosts, and dead love.
Grossed out by the myconids' spore servants and fungal body horror? Watch the movie Gaia, where an entire forest is part of a single massive fungal organism...which likes to colonize human visitors as well.
Fascinated and terrified by Auntie Ethel? You might enjoy Pumpkinhead, a tragic tale featuring a witch in a hut in the woods whose gifts come with a terrible, terrible price.
Found yourself delightfully claustrophobic on the Iron Throne? Be amazed by Underwater, all about explosive tension, high pressure, and rapidly depleting air tanks as an oil rig crew tries to cross the ocean floor.
Lingered too long in the shadow-cursed lands? Go visit Silent Hill (2006). you’re in for a fiery ride through a gloomy, shadowy, monster-filled, utterly corrupted dimension. You'll meet evil doctors, undead nurses, creepy children, horrifying cultists, and more!
In love with all things Bhaal and Dark Urge? You may also enjoy Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974). Just like Bhaal's temple, the movie is full of blood, body parts, mass murder, a fucked-up family, and a healthy dose of cannibalism.
(Previous Recommendations)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Celestial Whispers in the Night: Love's Eternal Symphony
"This is my poem based on the timeless dance of Nyx Goddess of Night and Erebus God of Darkness , where the night sky serves as their eternal stage. Their divine bond breaks through limitations, infusing the darkness with an unparalleled symphony of passion. It's a poignant reminder that love, despite the vastness of the cosmos, radiates brilliantly, reaching into the depths of our very being."
In the velvety cloak of night, where shadows dance and dreams take flight,
There lies a tale of love profound, where stars in their celestial bound,
Are not just specks that twinkle bright, but beings of ethereal might,
Guided by Nyx, the Goddess fair, in her arms, they weave and care.
Erebus, in his depths so deep, where darkness reigns and secrets keep,
Stands as the canvas, vast and grand, where Nyx paints her love unplanned,
With every flicker, every gleam, a testament to love’s sweet dream,
In the embrace of cosmic sight, their passion ignites, infinite and bright.
Each star a kiss from Nyx’s lips, each constellation a lover's grips,
As they wander through Erebus' domain, hand in hand, amidst the plane,
Their love a beacon, bold and true, in the endless expanse of blue,
Where time dissolves and space expands, they dance among the starry bands.
Oh, how they whirl in cosmic trance, in the eternal lovers' dance,
Nyx and Erebus, bound as one, beneath the moon and blazing sun,
Their love a force that cannot wane, in the universe's grand domain,
For in the stars, their story's told, in every twinkle, love unfolds.
So, let us gaze upon the night, behold the stars, aglow so bright,
And see within their radiant gleam, the love of Nyx and Erebus, supreme.
For in their celestial embrace, we find a glimpse of timeless grace,
A love that spans eternity, in the vastness of the night sky's sea.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ancient Wings of Desire: A Shifter Romance
by Deja Vail (Author)
Would love some feedback on my first chapter! You can read the rest @ Ancient Wings of Desire: A Shifter Romance | Kindle Vella (amazon.com)
Desc: In a world where shifters have revealed their existence to humans, secrets are kept in the shadows, and destinies entwine atop a remote Colorado mountain. Botanist Alison, an adventurous and independent soul, embarks on a three-day backpacking trip to collect rare specimens of the Colorado Columbine. Little does she know that her journey will lead her into the heart of an ancient and secretive community of griffin shifters.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Alison had always been captivated by the secrets of the natural world. From the moment she could walk, she had been wandering through forests, meadows, and gardens, her fingers tracing the delicate veins of leaves, her eyes seeking the subtlest shades of petals. Her passion for botany was more than a career; it was a lifelong love affair.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the small town of Boulder, Colorado, Alison sat in her cozy apartment, surrounded by books, plant specimens, and the sweet scent of dried herbs. Her auburn hair tumbled in unruly waves down her back, matching the fiery spirit within her. She wore a well-worn pair of jeans and a T-shirt featuring a Greenback Cutthroat Trout, the state fish.
Alison had always been a creature of habit, meticulously planning her expeditions into the wilderness. But today was different. The thrill of a spontaneous adventure coursed through her veins. Her research lab had been analyzing the same specimens for far too long, and it was time for something fresh. The Colorado Columbine, the state's treasured flower, had been calling to her.
She'd heard tales of the elusive Columbine hidden away in the high mountain meadows, and she yearned to collect samples in its natural habitat. It was a quest that would take her far from her comfort zone, into the heart of the Rocky Mountains, to a mountain 75 miles away from a small human town. Her decision was impulsive, but her heart raced with excitement at the prospect of venturing into the wild and discovering something new.
Alison's life was a tapestry woven with the threads of science and adventure. She worked as a botanist for a research lab in Boulder, where her meticulous analysis of plant specimens had earned her the respect of her peers. But beyond her professional life, she was a free spirit. She had hiked countless trails, camped under the star-studded Colorado sky, and sought solace in the embrace of nature.
Her cozy apartment was a reflection of her dual existence—shelves filled with scientific journals and reference books stood alongside hiking boots and well-worn backpacks. It was a testament to her love for the natural world and her unwavering commitment to understanding its mysteries.
Alison stepped out of her apartment and into the warm embrace of the Colorado evening, she knew that the mountain held secrets waiting to be unveiled, and she was determined to uncover them. But first, coffee.
..............................................................................................................................
"Alison, seriously? A three-day backpacking trip for a flower?" Stacy's voice boomed through the coffee shop, like a firecracker igniting a lively debate. Stacy has been my closest confidante since our days in undergrad, when the fates paired us together as "big" and "little" in our sorority. From the moment we met, it was clear that we were an unlikely duo, drawn together by some unspoken cosmic force. I was the quiet, bookish botany enthusiast, while Stacy embodied the vivacity and boldness of a wildfire. On paper, we should have been incompatible, but in reality, we were a beautifully mismatched pair that complemented each other in ways no one could have anticipated. Her vibrant, chestnut hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and her hazel eyes sparkled with both amusement and curiosity. Stacy was a force to be reckoned with, and her expressive face mirrored her bold personality.
I chuckled at her spirited reaction. "Yes, Stacy, but it's not just any flower," I replied, trying to convey my passion while keeping her entertained.
Stacy leaned forward, her demeanor shifting from an exacerbated eyeroll to genuine intrigue. "Alright, Alright. Tell me more about this flower, Alley Cat."
I smiled at my nickname. Trying not to get too overzealous, I started explaining the significance of the Colorado Columbine, the state flower, and the importance of studying it in its natural habitat. Stacy's genuine interest made me feel like I was sharing my excitement with a fellow adventurer.
As I continued, Stacy's attention drifted to her latte for a moment before she returned to our conversation. "Wait, aren't you already working on this species? I thought you had some at the lab already."
I nodded, recalling the unique story of those specimens. "Oh, those. They've been in our lab for over 15 generations now. It's fascinating, but they've developed very little genetic diversity over the years. That's one of the reasons I want to collect fresh samples from the wild."
Stacy raised an eyebrow. "Fifteen generations? That's like a botanical time capsule. I can see why you'd want to break that cycle."
Just as I was about to explain further, Stacy shifted gears, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Todd's going with you, right?"
I hesitated for a moment, my heart sinking at the thought of spending days in the wilderness with Todd after our recent awkward encounter. " I don't think Todd can make it."
Stacy's snarky grin told me she smelled a story. "Why not? I thought you two were practically inseparable in the lab."
I sighed, recalling the embarrassing encounter from last week when Todd had tricked me into a date. "Actually, I've been avoiding Todd lately. We had a mix-up, and he sort of took me on a date. That I hadn't really agreed to go on. It was ... awkward."
Stacy chuckled, leaning in closer. "Oh, Alison, you've got to give me the details on that one. What happened?"
I quickly changed the subject, not eager to delve into that particular conversation. "Let's just say it was a misunderstanding, and I'd rather not talk about it. Now, back to the backpacking trip..."
Stacy, known for her persistence and lack of boundaries, didn't let me off the hook so easily. "Come on, Ali, you can't just drop a bombshell like that and expect me to change the topic. Spill the beans!"
As Stacy prodded for more information, my internal monologue kicked into overdrive. How could I explain the Todd situation without divulging too much? And why was Stacy so relentless when it came to prying into my personal life?
I decided to give her a vague response, hoping she'd drop the subject. "Stacy, it's complicated. Let's just say I'd rather not discuss it right now."
Stacy's expression shifted from curiosity to genuine concern. "Ali, you know you can always talk to me, right? If something's bothering you, spill it. I'm here for you."
I smiled, touched by her genuine friendship. "Thanks, Stacy. I appreciate it. But let's save the drama for another time. I’ve got a flower quest to plan!"
"You know, Ali, speaking of complicated situations," Stacy began with a sly smile, "I've got this fling with Mark going on, but it's starting to get a bit boring."
I raised an eyebrow, curious about her romantic escapades. “Wait, Mark? I thought you were still with Trevor?”
She sighed dramatically, her expressive face contorting into a mock frown. “That was almost a month ago, I texted you about how fast that went south, didn't I?"
A quick blush spread across my cheeks. “You’re right! I’m sorry I must have forgotten with all of my proposals coming up. My brain is just a little foggy at the moment.” I lied, not having the slightest clue what she was talking about.
Gosh, I am a bad friend.
“But why is he getting boring? You're usually one to be going full speed all the time.”
Stacy looked at her empty latte, her long nails clicking on the side of the mug. “I know, right? But this guy, he's just not keeping up. I think I might break it off soon."
I couldn't help but chuckle at her candidness. "Well, you've always been one for adventure, Stacy. Maybe it's time to find someone who can keep up with your energy."
Stacy nodded, her eyes glinting mischievously once again. "You might be onto something, Ali. Life's too short for boring flings."
Stacy, never one to be discouraged for long, finally relented, and we resumed discussing the details of my upcoming adventure. I couldn't help but feel grateful for a friend like Stacy, who, despite her boundary-pushing tendencies, was always there to offer support and a listening ear.
Chapter 2 and 3 are available now
#romance#kinkwarning#eroticbookrec#tw: kink#tw: breeding#monster romance#monster boyfriend#fantasy romance#bird boy#smut#monster smut#shifter au#shifter romance#booktok
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think that some stories in the EU misunderstand Fenric, Fenric may be all powerful but he only plays cosmic games when he is trapped what know from before he was imprisoned is that he terrorised towns, to me Fenric is the Primal and thus Petty Evil, he is the Big Bad Wolf he is not a god he is Evil itself and Thus the Wolf he is the Beast to be slayed and vanquished, yes he should be treated like a threat and yes he is smart but he is also petty he is more interested in make people suffer and eating people. He is every fairy tale monster he is evil and evil is petty, corruption and Greed is not, but Fenric is not corruption or greed he is Evil.
Of course this is just my personal opinion.
But I do wander about Rose Tyler the Bad Wolf was she just another Wolf of Fenric?
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Spider Lily lore go
hmmm you see thats a bit Much for 2 reasons: 1] spider lily is a 'folk tale' esque character, in fact, they were made because my close friend drake came up to me with them as ,,, folk characters as an explanation for a phenomena [in their case, the cosmic void, which is more of a Their fanon thing, in mine more generally black magic and specifically the licorice sea]. flor [and flors partner, sea angel] lived MILLENIA ago. and 2] while a complicated character spider lily is a smidge underdeveloped ,,, unforunately sea angel is just easier to put lore together with due to her direct ties to starfruit dragon. so. ill give you what i can!
so, as a premtive, a big part of my fanon was the first war of cookiekind. how it was started didn't really matter, besides it was somewhere up north where the cacao kingdom is today, but it escalated because the war god strawberry jam spirit was created from the blood shed, and millenials attempt to calm things down by sealing them in a sword uhm. Just made everyone fight over the cool epic god sword since the alliances and trade had already collapsed into a mess of fighting at this point.
huh,,,, a cursed blood sword that compells anyone carrying it into a brutish monster,,, that sounds familiar! hope that isn't important later!
spider lily was from the lily villiage, but is a mage practicing blood and black magic [+ some floral magic, and maybe a bit stolen from millenial tree's roots]. Keep in mind magic does not have morality in my fanon and the whole 'blood magic' thing isn't really bad either [spider lily mainly just hurts. themself.] but like regardless they're kinda like Jesus Christ! and kick flor out.
so flor is just kinda chilling and wandering. maybe doing some shady shit but hey war mages are high in demand and with tons of blood and agony just *laying around*, spider lily is quite the threat.
insert sea angel, who is having a whole messed up religious and devotion complex and also really really overwhelmed with being The Chosen One and goes ok! I'll slay this mage to prove myself! and OOPS! All homoerotic battle that ends in them making out.
their relationship is actually very long-lasting, and ends up being very deep and passionate, all in the hellzone they're in thats really just the 'who of the week has the sword'. eventually, as their 'marriage', they swear oaths to eachother. spider lily binds them by blood, sea angel with a dragontounge oath, to share heart, mind, soul, and, the one which is going to ruin them, magic.
and. uhm. Yeah one of them falls in battle. Which leads to the other trying to save them, which is, unsurprisngly, disasterous. Taking more and more out of the fold of magic and power to get sucked into the magic loop, which,,, eventually collapses itno the licorice sea. This *basically* kills them, but their souls are entrapped in it forever as its twisted 'ruler' [this is void heart, that fucked up little lineless drawing i did a bit ago. It is Both of them <3 they are in agony <3].
their story is more abt the ramifications it has on the rest of my fanon. primarily, it gets an observer, wisteria, a powerful war mage on her own right, to finally realize how dumb and pointless this all is and going after the sword to seal it [eventually earning herself godhood and setting into motion a Ton of plot elements], starfruit dragon, wracked by even more guilt and regret, goes into a completely sleeping state that lets their magic leech out badly enough that in the modern republic people are getting light magic infestations with horrible consequences, and, slightly post-canon, void heart is 'killed' [their souls are set free] by dark roast when he's like "damn i miss my kids [latte and espresso] i'm going to become a god about it" and he fucking DOES.
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
btssreactionss
BTS Reactions
swordatsunset
some call it salvation
biancachoii
✧･ﾟ Choiicolate･ﾟ✧
women-in-gaming-zine
Women in Gaming