Dinluke Gilmore Girls AU (I can’t actually type that without bursting out laughing how have I become this) where instead of managing an inn, single father Din has accidentally become mayor of the small village (Cara and Fennec started a write in campaign without his knowledge that took off) and in order to actually govern the town, he has to keep leaving his kid with friendly local diner owner, Luke Skywalker

ghosts momence

heres my take:

we opened some doors backwards. what does that mean? well, lets think as far back as we can, to wkm. what doors might we need opened there? what still isnt clear?

the house. what is the house? why does it behave the way it does, why does reality break the way it does in there?

mark described the invincible 2 thusly: once you go in, you're doomed.

the ship is cursed. the house is cursed.

the house is the ship.

thats why engineer isnt actor, but actor is engineer. thats why dorene references damien, why she might be connected to celine. thats why warfstache can do what he does. that's why the warp crystal is important to dark, why it can be a catalyst for heist. all of them, every single one of them, was born from a paradox. alternate versions. what else could fuse people together, make them able to create pocket dimensions, bring them back from the dead?

iswm does feel a bit like a ghost story. the ship is haunted by this paradox, and the multiverse is littered with the ghosts of your failures. some of them just so happened to come back, not die all the way. after all, when thinking in infinites, unlikely is just certainty waiting for its turn

50\50

the train across the face sucker punch of contaminants crash,

as if the beginning of the cosmos, liquid star and void space fused dueling biomes.

Welded by hands of at one moment or another a great distance, of time and experience, beat & drum,

heavy the bass

heavy the bass.

Resonated knowledge rippled across this perfect temporal vector reaching my line,

 my birth path into this reality we have lost one another in.

Before my decent into mothers womb your synapse fired telegraph, made sure of our paths smack hit touch, a meet cute of such. Some remote when, some separated where

 down on the planet.

Message of urgency

Message of urgency

 telegraph of the mind imprinted with your regale ruby seal of heat, valor, sin and in the cards drenched energies, a scent I'd follow subconsciously until the wise tarot counseled me into change. You spoke of your heightened favor of life and lust, that you breathed and exhaled good fortune how pleasant and strange.

That you would explore high and low for blues clues path back to your cherished golden hearted, armored creature. Fired back I did before going ghost and continued decent into corporeal physical feature.

Before what would possibly be a lifetime until I'd lay my gaze upon your soul property, post divine organic housing. I beamed the message your way, sealed by kings crest tagged with scent of lust and werewolf life force, it spent no time browsing and charged ahead. Dodged and weaved it did through countless galaxy & quasar. Singularity nor new star could keep my soul byte from breaching your 2 shot par.

 Magically etched words of my energy properties entwined via the sisters of fate. I told you how much I cared how much I'd miss you, that I'd follow your scent of valor, lust and sin. Oh how long it has been, oh how damn long it has been, many years decades centuries, oh ill fated mugen your spell finally broken. Utterly Obliterated, cast aside by our tethers of promise. Nightly in the midst of maddening insomnia, in my google of questions & quest of answer I call out in thought, inquiring whilst you rest fast asleep on my chest.

This native pondering, this lovely shard of thought, poem and light embedded in my soul next to your framed red telegraph, this almost chicken or the egg puzzling answer that will elude for all my days.

Which is it,

which is it.

Was it your energies of luck and fortune that I met you?! was it my energies of fate that you met me?!

Round and round mind all a carousel, clockwise tornado winds furious a blow like hell.

Highlighted beacon in my life, bringer of warm liquid gush, how did you find my ships pirate bay.

Which magical grimoire brought you to me so abruptly, exist half a world away.

Each night I beat myself rid of these questions and fantasies seeking the morning sun caressing your face.

Premeditated love, aforethought feels, I checked myself I wrecked myself after this nights batch of sleepless, heart beat now slow of pace. After the shores tide out calm, after my catalytic decent, loss of my cherished midnight blue wings and black regale charm. I clung to my ascension of the bed like my last ration in a desert of fruitless waterless disappointment. I'd Found my place next to you upon casting out my night demons. You cast your voluptuous spell of polyjuice potion.

I drank you dry

I drank you dry

We blended until the rising sun and breakfast notion.

Inhale}}}} {{{{{exhale{{{{ }}}} smile and sigh,

never more alone never more alone to simply hope and die.

Doctor Who Meta: Cyberium AI Meta Masterpost

@grassangel​ said: A thought for you because of your meta: the Cyberium as the fluid in the opening credits.

It definitely does have a resemblance, doesn’t it. And that fits in with the Chibs style of ‘if you think it’s odd/wrong it probably serves a bigger purpose’.

The Cyberium AI is weird as hell. It’s clearly really important, not just as a plot device, but as itself. It’s got characterisation. It’s got a mirror important enough to be in the first episode - Tzim-Sha’s Gathering Coil, the first thing this Doctor ever faces.

And it mirrors the Doctor and Timeless Child’s ‘Power’. I mean it really mirrors them. To the point where, like with the Lone Cyberman and Rassilon, I’m not sure if it’s mirroring the character ridiculously heavily, or if it just straight up is the character. Just like working out Clara was going to be the Doctor with a TARDIS - I knew the result but I didn’t know what form it would take, literally the character or not, until the end. Cus that’s Doctor Who and its shapeshifting for you.

You know how my preferred method is to just point out all the metas as I see them, so you can draw your own conclusions if they’re different to mine, but I will actually put my thoughts as to what this all means at the end.

So click below for every bit of Cyberium AI meta from not just Series 12, not even just Series 11...but all the way back to Season 25)

(Under a cut because there was so much more than I thought there was)

In episode order then:

The Woman Who Fell To Earth

(The Gathering Coil as double-layer, mirroring the Cyberium AI’s role itself; but also therefore as its Doctor character mirror, and Timeless Child ‘Power’ mirror)

-See the title of the episode. The title with at least three references now.

-It crashes into a train when we meet it. A few moments before the Doctor does.

-“What are you? Okay, you don't like questions. More the private type, I get that.”

-Its data is absorbed into the Rassilon-mirror Tzim-Sha.

-In doing so also implants into him - and I quote the Doctor - “Micro-implants which code to your DNA. On detonation, they disrupt the foundation of your genetic code, melting your DNA.” Sound familiar?

-It’s being used - against the laws of the user’s species - in order to attain leadership. (Like Rassilon/Tecteun)

-Looks like one creature but is actually a huge number in the appearance of one. (The Doctor).

-The Gathering Coil might look like an Eldritch horror, but it never actually kills anyone on purpose. When it first shows up, the woman driving the train dies from shock, (“Shock” get it? Like...) Grace dies in an attempt to stop it by electrocuting it. The most damage it itself deliberately does, is short-circuit a crane.

----

The Haunting Of Villa Diodatti:

(Heavily as Timeless Child ‘Power’ mirror(?))

-The Lone Cyberman confirms the Cyberium AI to be both a lifeform and ‘weapon of some kind’. Like the Ux.

-We meet it already inside Doctor-mirror Percy Shelley - suicidal, social activist, and a great believer in the importance of society having Hope even if not so good at it himself. He is not trying to use its powers, but as Guardian of them doesn’t want others to take and abuse them. The word ‘Guard’ is also used by Mary in regards to the child. (And we could leave this episode and say how Irish Metaphor Doctor was a ‘Garda’ but you get the point).

-It hides in a house that appears to warp and change and shield and use a perception filter - theorised to be the Cyberium AI warping the perceptions of people in the building, even though none of them are remotely Cyber in any way. Shelley says directly only some of the changing is his doing. On a practical level, it must have strong telepathic abilities - like the Doctor. On a meta level, it hides itself in a place that mirrors a TARDIS.

-The Doctor can’t find it at first because it’s “hidden away, cloaked, too big to register.” Like the Timeless Child memories.

-The Doctor seemingly genuinely didn’t know what it was a minute ago, when she was asking Ashad what it was. But now suddenly she does know: “Cyber technology. The knowledge of the whole cyber race and AI from the future, containing the knowledge and future history of all Cybermen”. Almost as if she’s remembered.

-This next bit’s important and connected so we’ll just do the whole lot and break it up afterwards:

Percy: “They scorched and split the sky. Built the army of all armies. Left behind only pain, rage, fear and death.” Mary: “How is he seeing all this?” The Doctor: “The Cyberium is burning through his mind. It'll destroy him if it stays in him much longer. An epic battle. The Cyberium at the heart of it, controlling data, strategy, decision-making. Clever! Very clever. Someone took it from the Cybermen, sent it back through time here in an attempt to change the future.” *The Lone Cyberman tries to break in* The Doctor: “In an attempt to protect you from that.”

-Like Donna with the Doctor’s memories, this is burning Percy up. -An epic Battle, like with the Ux - a great battle referenced and not explained. The Cyberium AI instead of the Ux at the heart of it, used to fight it. (If anyone’s still assuming the Timeless Child(ren) thing was simply about regeneration power, there should be more focus on the Division and the Child as weapon). -The Doctor again coming in with extra information. -Possible Future Meta: Someone attempted to change the future by taking the source of power from the Rassilon (see the mirror).

-Thirteen tells the Doctor-mirror to just let the Rassilon-mirror have the power. (Reminds me of how the Timeless Child ‘would not yield any secrets’). But the Cyberium AI has been sending Shelley (Doctor-mirror) symbols and numbers. So Possible Future Meta: It wasn’t just the regeneration power Rassilon got from the Timeless Child, it was also information. (Of course - the Doctor, especially this one meant to mirror all this, is the Builder And Destroyer, after all)

-We confirm the Cyberium AI’s own sentience, separate from its host, (and its reluctance to leave). It changes the mental map of the house specifically to avoid the Lone Cyberman.

-The Lone Cyberman believes the host must be killed in order to get the power out. Mary Shelley immediately talks to the Lone Cyberman about fatherhood, and how he doesn’t want to do this. (Rassilon/Tecteun)

-The Doctor convinces the Cyberium AI to leave by showing it Percy’s future. (The mercury-like substance exits Percy quite like the poison with Ten. Given the amount of Ten-era-mirroring, this one’s cute).  (Possible Future Meta: The Doctor meeting Timeless Child self, like with Martin!Doctor).

-The Cyberium AI goes to the Doctor, who calls herself its “true Guardian”. Says it feels “Very at home”. Going with how she seemed to remember what it was without ever being told earlier...

-The Doctor, when her friends and the planet is at risk, decides to give it over the the Lone Cyberman, and the Cyberium works with her in a way it refused to with Shelley, meaning she didn’t need to die, even though she says it had already started fusing.

-Next after the Doctor-mirror/Doctor, the power enters the Rassilon-mirror.

-(Yaz restarts the Doctor-mirror’s heart. That’s not important to this meta, but it sure is important to other ones).

-We talk about ghosts just as we enter the Ghost Monument.

----

Ascension Of The Cybermen:

(Both as Doctor mirror and Timeless Child Power mirror)

-Cyberium!Ashad says “The Cyberium does know you. Both you and humanity will be destroyed, and I shall bring the Cyber race to its greatest ever glory.” - the Cyberium AI has already seen the Doctor’s death before. Or it’s lying.

-The Doctor’s blatantly obvious talking-to-herself therapy speech is to Cyberium!Ashad.

“The Cyberium has given me understanding. It has distilled my purpose. I am the perfect vessel.” - A container, a ship for the Cyberium AI.

“Everything is in me for the ascension of the Cybermen, and beyond. ... All your deaths. The death of everything is within me.” - First, mirrors the ‘life’ within the Timeless Child. Second, considering before this was previously an AI trying to avoid conflict and entering Ashad, the fact that Ashad and his death particle gets convinced to go to the Master and Gallifrey, makes me wonder how much the Cyberium AI was forced to go along because that’s its nature and it has to follow instructions, or whether it was planning and pulling the strings. Or both - TARDIS-style.

----

The Timeless Children:

(Heavily as Doctor mirror, minorly Timeless Child Power mirror)

-“Oh. Oop. Excuse me. Check my notifications. Oh, goodie! The Cybermen are here, at the Boundary. Better extend the hand of friendship. Breaker 1-2 calling all Cybes.” So the Master knew that the Cybermen would come. How? They haven’t interacted from our perspective at all.

-The Master says to Cyberium!Ashad “I want you to think of me as your new best friend.”

-Master to the Doctor: “Don't heckle, dear. I can always decide to cut you short.” -Master to Cyberium!Ashad: “Oh, shoot. I should've said, somebody needs to cut you down to size, then zapped you. I was just trigger-happy. I'll use it next time.” (Plus, a ‘next time’ - we haven’t seen the last of him).

-The Cyberium AI is revealed to have been the one to create the Death Particle. Which again makes me question who’s pulling whose strings. As the Master points out Ashad is more organic than most, and Ashad simply says that he’ll mechanise when the process is over - ignoring the point that this didn’t work before. And Ashad seems to think it will wipe out everything, ignoring the reality that its coverage is only a single planet.

-The Master is clearly talking to the Cyberium more than Ashad at points.

Ashad: “The Cyberium will process and dictate the strategy.” The Master: “The Cyberium. I've heard a lot about that over the millennia. The heart of all your power. The centre of all Cyber knowledge.” -Sounds very like the other Timeless Child(ren) mirror - the Ux.

-The Master actively flirts with it. “Oh, come on, Cyberium, show us some leg. What do you actually look like, hmm?” And after shrinking Ashad without so much as a close-up, like he’s been nothing to the plot, “Well, aren't you pretty? And fast. You made your exit very swiftly there. Worried, were you?”

-The Master hoped the Death Particle would activate and laments to the Cyberium AI that his “nice little gamble” didn’t pay off - as in it didn’t kill him. (Assuming Timeless Children plural, that may be the only thing that would work, and that he is telling this to the Cyberium AI again could fit nicely with the narrative idea that it knows what it’s doing).

-“Oh, sorry, were you close? Candidly, I think you can do better.” ... “Wow, that was quick. Wa-ha-ha! Whoa! Woohoo! At least buy me... dinner!” - (And considering we all had a giggle at the clearly intentionally funny ‘a piece of you is in me’ line that’s going to happen either in about a minute, or in the world of the episode and making adjustments for simultaneous storytelling, right now...)

-“I ransacked the Matrix of the Time Lords, distilled all the knowledge, all the experiences, all the discoveries, into these brains up here. All the Cyber knowledge, all the Time Lord knowledge. Put it together, what do you get? Absolute supremacy in the universe. Choose me.” - (The Master pointing out we’ve now got two sets of incredible knowledge. Rule of three has me wondering about the Timeless Child’s ‘Knowledge’.)

-After the power was originally in the Doctor-mirror/Doctor, it then went to the Rassilon-mirror(?) and then to the Master. If you’re a fan of Timeless Children Plural theory.

-The Master: “No, Doctor. As of now, I wish my enemies a long and healthy life, so they may witness my many triumphs, because they will be legion.” - (So, in case you’re not familiar with the Legion thing, two points: A Legion was a division in the Roman army of about 3000-6000 men. We will be coming back to Rome - oh God will we - but just slot that information away for later. Point two - For another use of Legion, we need to head to the Bible, Mark 5:1-9. ‘Who cares, Rowan?’ Well, this is the story in which there is a man living among tombs, who no-one can bind, not even with chains. He cries out and attacks himself, and on seeing Jesus in the distance rushes over and kneels before him, screaming that he’d put him under oath not to torment him. Jesus doesn’t talk to him, but to what is possessing him, ordering it to come out, and asking its name. And it, not the man replies: “I am Legion, for we are many.” (Fun fact, we eventually get rid of the demons by exorcising them into animals who then run off...a...cliff. *sighs* Ok.)

The Doctor: “You're looking peaky.” The Master: “Oh, yeah. The Cyberium lives in me now, Doctor. Yeah. Yes. See, I've been looking forward to seeing your face about that. I can feel it flowing around in me. The information, the strategy, the... the... the consciousness. It's a beautiful thing. And look at us. I have broken you and created a new race. And now? Now I shall conquer... everything. Oh.”

-“See, I've been looking forward to seeing your face about that.” - This is a quiet point that exemplifies a major one. The Master’s story is different to ours. He knows things that we do not. The Doctor in theory (though I doubt in practice) had never come across the Cyberium AI before, she hasn’t mentioned its name or anything about it to the Master. In theory (again press x) the Lone Cyberman carrying the Cyberium AI just turned up when the Master dragged the Doctor through to Gallifrey as pure happenstance, he should know nothing about that incident with the AI and Shelley (and yet he quotes him). Why has he been looking forward to seeing her face in regards to that? What does he know about it that he expects her to remember? Just like with the Timeless Child infodump, we are fools if we take all this at face value, because the Master planned for all of this. And it seems like the Cyberium AI _itself_ is planning too.

Ko Sharmus: “You didn't start this. I did. I was part of a resistance unit that sent the Cyberium back through time and space. Though obviously we didn't send it back far enough. So this is my penance. Mine to finish. My journey ends here. But the universe still needs you, so I suggest you run.” (Ko Sharmus is treated way too important. We’ve got to see him again.)

----

Done? Done.

Well no, no actually we’re not. Because there is one final episode.

But we have to go back, just a little bit, to the Seventh Doctor. Stick with me. I promise you’ll be glad you did.

Silver Nemesis:

-A story revolving around a thing called Validium.

-To quote the TARDIS Wiki: “It was living metal that could think for itself and was capable of speech as well. When destroyed, it could reform itself.”

The Doctor: “Validium was created as the ultimate defence for Gallifrey, back in early times.” Ace: “Created by Omega?” The Doctor: “Yes.” Ace: “And?” The Doctor: “Rassilon.” Ace: “And?” The Doctor: “And none of it should have left Gallifrey. But, as always with these things, some of it did.”

-Catch that hint of the Cartmel Masterplan where it’s clearly meant to lead you to ‘And? The Other One’. It’s ok, you’re not reading too far into it, I promise.

-“It should never have left Gallifrey, but some of it did. A piece of validium fell to Earth and was found by the Lady Peinforte.” Can you guess what she did with it? Why, she moulded it into a statue of herself.

-A silver lady statue.

-(You remember how we just seemed to abandon Barton? Who is somewhat not human? Was involved with creatures from another dimension? And that statue? Seemed set-up for a cyber plan? Saw nothing wrong with a bit of familial murder? Ooh hoo. Welp.)

-Nazis are involved. Ill-timed notifications. The Doctor forgetting. A cellar. (A fez). A meteorite containing the validium crashes by a barn. On November the 23rd. Happy Birthday. We blow things up. A lot of things.

-The villains of the piece? Besides the nazis and the Time(travelling) Lady? Well it could only be the Cybermen. A bit of the Validium is held by each of them

-The Cybermen take their bit of the Validium to the tomb of the Lady, with an inscription “Death Is But A Door”. The Lady is not buried there, and it doubles as a pun, with a hidden door.

-One of the lead nazis betrays his fellow to be turned into a Cyberman. “Supermen are all very well, but the giants are the master race.”

-The Seventh Doctor is mirrored with the Lady, who describes herself as evil. They even have mirrored scenes with their equivalent companions.

-The Lady: “All power, all power past, present and future, shall be mine. Why, I shall be mistress of all of that is, all that shall be, all that ever was. Yes, all! All!” - Oh, doesn’t she sound familiar now...

-Point Of Interest: Like many of the concepts Chibs has been playing with from Classic Who - the Morbius Doctors, almost certainly the Valeyard - this was apparently a fairly controversial episode among the old guard. Why? Because well...

The Validium: “I am beautiful, am I not?” Ace: “Yes. You're very beautiful.” The Validium: “It is only my present form. I have had others which would horrify you. I shall have those again. You are surprised I speak?” Ace: “I know you're living metal.” The Validium: “I am whatever I am made to be. This time Lady Peinforte called me Nemesis, so I am retribution.”

-I mean this is all cute but it doesn’t explain why it’s here and-

The Validium: “And I'm to destroy the entire Cyberfleet?” The Doctor: “Forever.” The Validium: “And then?” The Doctor: “Reform.” The Validium: “You might need me in the future, then?” The Doctor: “I hope not.” The Validium: “That is what you said before.” The Doctor: “Enough.” The Validium: “And after this, will I have my freedom?” The Doctor: “Not yet.” The Validium: “When?” The Doctor: “I told you when.” The Doctor: “Things are still imperfect.”

-Oh well that’s...Hmm.

Lady Peinforte: “You are nothing. Only the Doctor matters, and he is but a pawn in the game of my making.” ... Ace: “The Doctor's not just going to give you the bow. Tell her, Doctor. Tell her.” Lady Peinforte: “Doctor who? Have you never wondered where he came from, who he is?” Ace: “Nobody knows who the Doctor is.” Lady Peinforte: “Except me.” Ace: “How?” Lady Peinforte: “The statue told me.” Ace: “All right, so what does it matter? He's a Time Lord, I know that.” Lady Peinforte: “Well, Doctor?” The Doctor: “If I give you the bow,” Lady Peinforte: “Your power becomes mine, but your secrets remain your own.” ... Lady Peinforte: “I shall tell them of Gallifrey, tell them of the old time, the time of chaos.” ... The Doctor: “You had the right game, but the wrong pawn. Check.”

-What used to be the Cartmell Master plan is now the Timeless Child Master...plan- Is this why it’s involving the Master? For a pun? Whatever, either way the Seventh Doctor is now a treasure trove of useful ideas - I did wonder why Chibs chose Ace in particular as the companion who should get a ‘Thirteen meeting them again’ book - trying to lure people in for a second look, clearly.

-So what happens in the story? In the Timeless Child, the Master ends up absorbing the Cyberium. In Silver Nemesis, the Validium absorbs our Lady Mistress Of All. How neat.

-The Doctor ‘wins’ by giving the Validium the Cyberleader’s instructions, confirming it understood them, and then the Cybermen let it fly off to their fleet. Which then blows up. Because it chose to disobey them. (As he knew it would).

-The Validium is left floating in space, until the Doctor calls on it again. I’m not saying this relates to opening titles full of goop, but I’m not saying it doesn’t either.

So. That’s a lot. While I would usually doubt the Validium would literally be the Cyberium, and that it would be for fans to join together as they wished or not... Honestly, given the use of lore in Chibs Who, I don’t actually feel certain of that anymore.

But either way, there’s your meta masterpost, you can commence your theorising now.

****

I know no-one comes to these things for my stupid conclusions, but in case you did, here’s a couple of my very disparate fever-brained thoughts, that I’m too ill to put together more...smartly, and might have to come back to if you’re ever going to actually see this post:

-The Doctor/The Other/The Timeless Child had a hand in the weaponisation of the Cyberium AI (forced/cajoled/whatever).

-The Time Lord empire, in at least one version of reality, is inextricably linked to the Cybermen empire, with the Cybermen showing similar levels of technology to Time Lords (a cyber carrier ‘more advanced’ than very far future humans have ever seen - “Coming out of vortex now”, implies it has time vortex travel. And “That’s my home planet - that's Gallifrey”. Immediately the image cuts to Cyberman, then straight back.)

-The Timeless Child was chosen as a vessel to save some form of living knowledge, rather than just being a mystical alien.

-((My nuttiest guess that is only 30% meta and 70% gut feel is it’s a TARDIS-kind, probably our own, which stayed with them because they carried her, and now she carries them. That concept, the little links we’re seeing with TARDISes and their sentience, the implied planetary genocide of all but a saved pair, cyberised humans and cyberised Time Lords - a TARDIS is a cyberised something, the question of living technology, the gloop of the vortex, the Ghost Monument, the Doctor’s agonised loss of her for her first episode that she then only finds at the end of the second on a dead planet ruined by space-fascists...))

-Are those two the same story? You could go in either direction. The stories are all about cycles and loops, so a strong case for mirroring, but at the same time we have a Lone Cyberman who can’t be converted properly and no-one knows why, which makes me think that is still Rassilon with either the ghost of a memory of an old plan, or - thanks to time travel - the old plan itself. That perhaps the Timeless Child’s Power would end up somewhat fused with the Doctor when they turned it into the weaponised Cyberium “AI”, explains why we see it in meta go from benign to weapon creator.

-The Cyberium AI created the Death Particle which would destroy all life and stop the Cyber-Time Lords from taking over. This feels like the exact thing the Doctor was trying to stop with the Time Lords in The End Of Time, and Day Of The Doctor, as their absolute last-ditch plan.

-Certainly the Battle that the Alliance are gearing up for, I would assume is the same battle that we keep seeing in mirrors, and is directly related to Gallifrey. It keeps coming up linked together, like with Ko Sharmus, and we first find out about the Alliance from the inside of a stolen Battle TARDIS.

-So perhaps that’s a point that history is hinging on, and someone - read: the Master - has chosen to interfere. Things all seemed to go wrong after he discovered the Timeless Child information - impossible Time Lords and TARDISes appearing, an Alliance, a Cyber Empire etc. Maybe originally the Doctor/Timeless Child (title, not necessarily youth) was used to control the Cyberium AI and win the battle. But the Master took them away from Rassilon so that couldn’t happen, so everything’s a catastrofuck of paradoxes.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We got a long time to think about it at least.

Kanohi Dragon

           Somewhere in the Stelt District lies an underground chamber; A titanic, enormous cavern designed to contain and subdue a beast of colossal size. This beast’s exact origins are unknown to the Xians who study and experiment on the creature, as well as the creature itself; It cannot remember where it came from. All it remembers is its name; Kanohi.

           According to ancient Xian legend, the Kanohi Dragon suddenly appeared during the War of Six Kingdoms. It flew across the skies, turning them black with soot as it left behind a molten trail of burning ash in its wake, feasting on multiple Xians in order to sate its powerful hunger. Unsurprisingly, Xian armies retaliated against the beast, with the Barraki Takadox himself desiring either to hypnotize or slay Kanohi. Efforts proved largely futile, as Xia’s primitive weapons could not outclass a titanic beast that could effortlessly slither through the sky; But by a stroke of luck and pure grace, a powerful storm cast a devastating lightning bolt against the Kanohi Dragon. Kanohi fell and crash-landed into the frozen north, where the ice immediately began to sap away the beast’s heat. Unable to maintain its temperatures, Kanohi quickly fell into a deep slumber.

           Generations passed and legends of the Kanohi Dragon became just that; Legends. Although the Kanohi Dragon landed in Pridak’s domain, the Barraki was unwilling to release the beast, recognizing its threat and declaring it too much of a liability to attempt to tame- Nor did he want to risk awakening Kanohi in any attempts to finish the creature off. Years of ice and frost enveloped Kanohi’s comatose form, which still maintained some degree of powerful heat within.

           However, as Xia’s industrial age ensued, massive expansion began to occur across all corners of the island. And as the Artidax District in the North began to develop, piercing the icy frost, things became much warmer. Finally, a mining company seeking to avoid Voymari monopolies began drilling into the ice, and awakened the Kanohi Dragon.

           The Kanohi Dragon promptly resumed a second rampage across Xia, but this time the Xians were much better-equipped for the beast. They had access to powerful industrial weapons and technologies that helped even the odds. Still, casualties and destruction were immense, and Kanohi rampaged for an entire month, leaving a path of destruction through Artidax, Voymari, and eventually into the Tametru District. The industrial sector’s burning flames proved conducive towards helping Kanohi regains its lost, former strength.

           Eventually a band of heroes rose up, among them the legendary Glatorian of fame, Certavus. These heroes worked closely with Xian forces to finally defeat Kanohi by luring it towards the Great Furnace and dousing it in countless gallons of liquid nitrogen, as well as ice gathered from the Artidax District and water from Nynrah and Voymari. Additional weaponry was rolled in to finally defeat and wound the dragon as it crashed to the ground, and all of Xia celebrated.

           As Certavus and his group of heroes would later go on to become the predecessors of the Volunteer Militia, discussion was focused on what to do with Kanohi. Many advocated for euthanizing the creature now that it was finally wounded and vulnerable. Inevitably, companies and organizations began to bid on the Kanohi Dragon instead, until finally it landed in the hands of a corporation that sought to to analyze, study, and reverse-engineer the internal mechanisms that granted Kanohi its powers of gravity-defying flight.

           Years passed once more, and progress was so-so as experiments were performed. The Kanohi Dragon was moved underground to minimize the threat of it reawakening and breaking out, but as technology improved, Xian scientists were able to subdue the creature using powerful freezing mechanisms, enabling them to study even while it was awake. With success on unlocking Kanohi’s power being rather varied, the creature ended up trading hands, passed through the ownership of multiple entities as they attempted to study and profit from the beast. Kanohi was subject to cruel, inhumane experiments as its memories of its past began to fade and wane from the constant years of abuse and frequent tranquilizer and ice-induced slumbers.

           The Kanohi Dragon eventually ended up in the ownership of Vortixx Industries, which began to collaborate with the Dark Hunters to experiment on the creature. The disgraced Nynrah Ghost Spiriah, at the time serving the Dark Hunters, helped spearhead experiments and operations on the beast as mysterious Masks of Power from Dweller and Umarak were shipped into the lab. As a part of his experiments and study into the foray of Life energy itself, Spiriah was inspired by his success with the Dark Hunter Charger and wanted to try his hand on not just applying Life energy to a living creature, but specific forms of Life energy.

           Spiriah knew from the existence of Kraata that Life energy could take specific forms; So why not try grafting Life energy in the form of Powers to a living creature? The Kanohi Dragon already seemed to defy reality through its massive frame and lack of wings that were somehow supported by flight… Perhaps Kanohi already dabbled in and relied on Life energy to fly? If so, it’d possibly respond towards attempts to graft Masks of Power to it better than previous test subjects…

           The Kanohi Dragon underwent a painful process of having various Masks of Power fused to its hide, grafted into the creature’s own scales as its armor became metallic. Results and data from the experiments were intriguing, but not definitive; Still, Spiriah was happy with the progress, and the Kanohi Dragon gained a few abilities of its own in the process. Alas, Spiriah never got to finish his work, as he disappeared while on an expedition in the ruined Nynrah District; Unable to continue work and suffering disputes with The Shadowed One over ownership, Vortixx Industries cut off the collaboration and halted work on Kanohi.

Vortixx Industries took the Kanohi Dragon for itself, claiming ownership alongside the Masks of Power that the Dark Hunters had brought in. In retaliation, The Shadowed One had his Dark Hunters ravage and destroy multiple Vortixx assets, as well as assassinate a few key members of the company including the current CEO at the time. The incident soured relations between the Dark Hunters and Vortixx Industries, although inevitably they resumed the occasional collaboration after time passed; Business was business, after all.

With the project shut down, Kanohi wasted away in darkness, suffering the lingering and chronic pain from the inhumane, torturous experiments. A crew was tasked with making sure that the Kanohi Dragon remained subdued. However, during the Okotan expedition to Xia, an accident resulted in massive damage to the containment facility. The Kanohi Dragon reawoke, and incensed from all of the torture it had gone through, broke through its confines and obliterated the ceiling above, escaping out onto the surface.

The Kanohi Dragon promptly resumed a third rampage on Xia, flying across the skies for the first time in decades as it began to ravage Stelt. Vahki squads and Exo-Toa scrambled to contain the creature as artillery cannons and massive rail-guns were brought in, and even the Dark Hunters Ravager and Devastator were hired to help subdue Kanohi. In the ensuing chaos, Lewa, Toa of Jungle, worked with the Vahki to contain the dragon, not wanting to see any innocent lives get killed.

With Lewa’s help, the Vahki succeeded in defeating Kanohi and subduing the beast, recapturing and tranquilizing it. Despite initial reservations, Lewa was personally thanked by a Vahki captain, and Vortixx Industries was sued for the incident as it hurried to recontain Kanohi. Shortly afterward, Lewa learned the truth of Kanohi and the horrible things done to it; And after needing some help against an incoming wave of Dark Hunters, he went out of his way to free the Kanohi Dragon once more. Despite initial hostility towards Lewa, Kanohi was won over by the Toa of Jungle’s natural kindness and empathy for animals, with Lewa using his powers and a Mask of Healing to help soothe the dragon’s pain and wounds. Communication was better established with a Mask of Telepathy.

Having now befriended the Kanohi Dragon, Lewa rode it out across the skies of Xia, defeating the Dark Hunters. On Lewa’s request, Kanohi refrained from burning Stelt down to its foundations, and instead peacefully flew off to Nynrah, where it could hopefully be free from anyone else who wished it harm. Lewa bade Kanohi farewell, before resuming his mission of stopping The Shadowed One from recreating Makuta’s Mask of Life.    

           The Kanohi Dragon is a colossal kaiju, a slithering reptile with a long tail and silver whiskers. Its hide is mostly a powerful crimson, with an ebony snout. It possesses powerful claws and strength to rend foes and prey with, and enormous fire-breath that can instantly melt steel. Naturally Kanohi has a massive amount of body heat, and requires frequent amounts of heat and flame to sustain itself. Vents located between its scales frequently release steam. The temperatures of Kanohi’s outermost hide and steam-vents are capable of causing burns to the average Xian, although few have ever gotten close enough to touch the dragon.

           Despite its titanic weight, size, and lack of wings, the Kanohi Dragon can somehow fly through the air anyway, weaving and slithering through the skies as if they were made of water. How it does this is unknown; Potentially, it has the power of Flight. Wherever Kanohi goes, it leaves a trail of blackened ash as soot and smoke from its nostrils darkens the sky; However, it appears that the ash it leaves behind is actually fertile, and can enable enhanced plant-growth!

           Its incredible size and unusual flight capabilities inspired multiple Xians to study the beast, hoping to unlock the secret behind how it was able to not only carry its own weight but even soar with it. Previously-mentioned speculation on Kanohi utilizing Life energy led the disgraced scientist Spiriah into grafting countless Masks of Power onto the dragon’s hide. The painful process caused Kanohi huge amounts of agony, but it seems the experiments were somewhat of a success; It now had an impenetrable metal hide in various places.

           Not only that, but its own soul seemed to link towards and even become slightly compatible with several of the Masks that had been fused to it! The Kanohi Dragon is able to tap into the Masks of Power scattered across its scales, activating and utilizing their abilities; Thankfully, the discrepancy in size means that each Mask, when activated, tends to spray its energy around wildly within the range of an Okotan-sized user. Thus, energy-beams cast from a Mask of Beams will only go about as far as it would on a regular-sized wielder.

           When ‘activating’ these Masks of Power across its body, Kanohi’s masks will unleash their power and energy without control, often spewing attacks wildly and with little aim and consistency. It is able to activate multiple Masks of Power at once. Luckily, Kanohi’s own tortured, unnatural fusion, combined with its trauma-debilitated animal mind, has led to most of its Masks performing below their usual limits. The Shadowed One initially insisted that most Masks of Power gathered for Kanohi be ones made by Ekimu, whom he deemed the superior Mask Maker; But many of Makuta’s were included in the process as well.

           Even when not active or trying to tap into them, Kanohi’s Masks of Power will occasionally activate regardless, contributing towards the chaos and confusion. The Masks’ effects seem limited mainly to the parts of the body they are found on. Traversing the beast’s hide is already difficult enough with its high temperatures, but coupled with Masks of Power that wildly lash out, the beast’s presence countless meters above the ground, and its own rampaging hostility, a trip across its body would be suicide for most.

           As a result of trauma and unusual experiments, Kanohi’s control over its own motor functions are not ideal, and thus it can lose control of its power when on a rampage. Like any abused animal it is naturally hostile to anything else that approaches it out of fear, and prone to lashing out in pain; Kanohi’s amnesia contributes towards the dragon’s fear and heightened fight-or-flight (or rather fight-and-flight) mode. Moments of calmness and peace have been few and far between for the abused creature.

           Still, it is capable of reason, and when calmed down sufficiently, Kanohi prefers not to cause conflict. It seems that even its appearance on Xia is unnatural for it, and its sudden emergence the first time it was sighted seems to support this. As Lewa helped calm and communicate to Kanohi with a surprising familiarity on both ends, he wondered- Could the creature have been from Okoto?

Innocence?

Summery:   How could Zhora let that be destroyed? Worse, how could she prevent it? The more she thought, the more she realised that it was already unavoidable. Zoe was right, curse it. Solis wouldn’t stop with just Zhora, not after Wyst and Zoe had dug their heels in. They’d suffer too, no matter what Solis actually said. Zhora and Zoe have a discussion the night before they go after Solis. ************** Space. It was a word to invoke thought. A distance as much as a destination. So much of nothing it became something. Something became nothing. Infinite became irrelevant within a few strides and grew with time. Outer space was infinite. The void between life. A chasm to suspend reality. Poems sung of hanging the stars in the skies. Compared their gleam to diamonds, whispered their deepest desires on a star falling from the inky blankets of space. Science spoke of the stars as echoes of what had been. To see a star, sometimes, was to see when it had already died. The brightest beauty of something past. Something out of reach. Some viewed space as a negative, as something empty. Others viewed it as something full of possibility. As something to fill until space no longer existed. The space to hang a child’s painting on the wall. Space for flowers to grow. A place for a ship to dock... euphemism intended. The list of the ways space could be filled was immense, especially to someone as creative as Zhora. For Zhora, space simply was. At the moment, it was fucking freezing. Yes, the stars were beautiful. Yes, the distance between her and her target meant she would not die that day. The space between brain and heart would keep her alive. That didn’t eliminate the literal chill just outside the hull. It didn’t dismiss the loneliness embedded in her soul. Literal or emotional, it was cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. As so many did, she used space. With engines, the infinity of space shrunk into insignificant hours between planets. With plants and weapons, she filled her walls. With the shots from her rifle, she filled the distance between herself and the enemy. With contacts in every port, she filled other spaces... at least for a time. Some longer than others. Another euphemism intended. The one space she could never fill was that of loneliness. Of emotional emptiness so stabbing it could threaten to cut. Her mind resisted well. It was of stone. Uncompromising. In control. Ahead of the game. She had to be. If she wasn’t, she would be dead. Both her and her crew would pay. That was where her heart of glass came into play. So fragile was her heart that she protected it fiercely. When it came to heart or head, she chose her head. The death of friends was merely a dent in her business and profits. The angst of her crew would pass with the storm; all she had to do was hold tightly to her beliefs. Cling to that lifeline of logic and rationality. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her crew. She did. Truly. They were near her while she slept. They technically had unrestricted access to all her weapons, supplies and her quarters. It was very rare she locked her quarters anymore, not when Zoe could hack the security within a minute. Only her word kept them from acting out. Although, truthfully, her word didn’t always bind them. They disobeyed. Went over her head. Between her knees. Around her outstretched fingers. So long as it benefitted Zhora, no angle was too obscure for them to take. They practically lived on the phrase “Better to ask forgiveness than permission.” Something which had only gotten worse since Zoe had taken the role of Engineer. The two other women aboard the ship were trouble together. It was a good thing Zhora was practically addicted to their brand of trouble. Anyone else might have done some serious damage to the Kid or the Cutie. That thought always made Zhora’s brows feel heavier and her teeth ache, even when she didn’t adopt a snarl. The thought of losing either Wyst or Zoe was...it churned more unpleasantly in her gut than any poisoning she had ever suffered. These girls were her crew. Her family. Her loves, aside from her weapons and adrenaline. She was efficient when she showered, providing she was alone. She cleaned quickly, washed her mermaid inspired hair, dried and dressed within the space of ten minutes. As it stood, she had no intention of entertaining guests. With 200,000 credits painted across her back, she wanted to keep herself clothed and ready. Sure, luring some company may be fun, whether it be the pleasure of touch or combat, yet Zhora had more to think about than just her own entertainment. It was dressed in her typical armored pants and crop top that she stepped back into her room, only to be greeted by a familiar sight. In the dim lighting of her quarters the light of her workbench was a supernova, dragging Zhora’s eyes. There, she found herself staring at Zoe Rayner’s shadowed back. The tight body suit she wore was standard Union Colony, yet it did leave very little to the imagination. The way the suits melded to their wearers put everything on display, every curve, muscle and bone. In Zoe’s case, it did wonders for the lithe woman’s back, and her backside. Zhora watched for a few moments, almost hypnotised by the steady undulating of Zoe’s sharp shoulder blades beneath the green fabric. Every time Zoe pulled a pin into alignment or moved to grasp another tool was a shadow dance, something for Zhora to feast her eyes on. Perhaps it could delay the inevitable. Zoe kept herself organised to perfection. On her left was where she had laid out the deconstructed weapon parts apparently by size and importance. Barrels, piping extensions, firing pins. Plasma packs. Electronics. Grips. Everything was so neat that it could only be an Engineer’s layout. To her right was an array of tools. Delicate tools, each laid out on black fabric that emphasised their pristine condition. Beyond Zoe’s instant reach, different components lingered, many pieces fused together in ways Zhora was not completely sure she could ever understand. Zoe’s brain was wired so differently from any engineer Zhora had ever worked with, yet the Colony Girl was an utter genius. Her unique brain and concepts had saved Zhora’s life numerous times, as well as allowed Zoe to bend countless rules. Namely, hacking her way into Zhora’s room when the Captain refused to communicate. “What are you doing, Cutie?” Zhora called as she approached, having to bite back a victorious smirk when Zoe gave a small eeeekkk of alarm. Zoe was an absolute image. One knee raised defensively as her other foot stretched for the ground. Bare toes barely grazed the floor, given the chair was designed for Zhora’s superior height. The Engineer had some form of screwdriver raised across her chest, wielding the tool like a weapon in her alarm. Zhora couldn’t help but let her smirk grow a little at the sight of Zoe’s heaving bosom, once more silently thankful for the Union Body Suits. As usual, no curve was left to imagination, and the way Zoe had twisted her hip in preparation of an attack left more than her breasts on display. The shapely curve of her hip and rump stretched the material, which also clung to her lean stomach. The clear panels gave Zhora a view of skin, nothing indecent. “Zhora! I was just... well. After the Ghost gun, I was seeing if I could make my pistol more reliable. Incase... incase. If anything goes wrong, I want to have a backup.” Zoe hurried to explain, relaxing from her improvised martial arts form to slumping in the chair. Relaxed, Zhora could see the strain in Zoe’s arms. The metaphoric weight on the Engineer’s shoulders which seemed to be affecting her quite literally. “Zoe-“ “Aside from the programming to the Ghost gun, I was thinking of taking similar coding and programming it into the attachable -“ Zoe continued to babble, waving her hands wildly as she spun around to face her components once more. Zhora wanted to follow along, she truly did, yet she was caught up in the perky engineer’s excitement. Zoe was magnetic once she became passionate; her energy was almost like an inferno swallowing all in its path. Somehow, Zoe became infectious when she was like this. The inferno never harmed those whom it consumed. Instead, it filled Zhora with a pleasant warmth; a feeling which radiated from the centre of her chest. This passion was for HER. Zoe was so dedicated to these weapons because the Engineer wanted to save Zhora. The Captain couldn’t fathom how she had earned such loyalty, only that she strove to earn it. That she kept waiting for Zoe to run. To leave. Still, Zoe stayed, striving further and further away from her safe life and into danger. All for Zhora. “You don’t have to do this. We can find another way.” Zhora found herself cutting Zoe off mid explanation. This caused Zoe to pause. The clink of a tool hitting the bench was the only warning Zhora had before she found herself staring straight into the steely face of Zoe Rayner. Deep brown eyes shone. No, shone implied too much softness. Zoe’s eyes blazed. They were the black holes which summoned Zhora’s gaze. The hardest edges of determination stole Zhora’s voice, even as Zoe’s soft brows furrowed in unspoken frustration. There it was. A brief moment where the two halves of Zoe warred. Her kindness and patience softened the blow, yet the fiery determination and outrage was akin to a sledgehammer into Zhora’s gut. Would Zoe offer another tongue lashing, or would her patience prevail? “I know what I have signed up for. I’m not a Little Colony Girl anymore. You’ve shown me how the Galaxy works. The truth of it.” It was a very true statement, Zhora realised. When she stared at Zoe, the Captain could no longer see the meek little colony girl. She saw her Engineer, a woman who could bring the Galaxy to its knees in prayer. Zoe was the stereotype of normal colony kid. Every common aspect of her seemed crafted to perfection, causing what should have been an ordinary looking girl to gleam amidst the stars. Honey and Gold had been mixed to create the perfect shade of blonde for Zoe. Her hair hung from its messy ponytail, always vibrant in its chaos. Zhora briefly wondered how much one would pay for such a treasure. The thought was banished. She didn’t want Zoe to become ruined for something as common as credits. “This isn’t something I can undo, Zoe. So far, everything has been something we could fix if you decided you wanted out. This... I can’t protect you from. If you regret this, I can’t...” Zhora almost hated herself. For the first time, control was completely out of Zhora’s grasp. She had been so careful, introducing the Outlaw life to Zoe in situations that wouldn’t scar the young Engineer. Zhora had executed her iron grip to ensure that Zoe wasn’t hurt. Wasn’t sullied beyond repair. Now, there was nothing to shield Zoe from the darkness. Zhora couldn’t sacrifice her own body to shield the girl, nor could she manipulate the situation so that Zoe wouldn’t suffer. What would happen when Zoe pulled the trigger? Would such an act break her? The very real possibility that this would destroy everything Zoe was weighed on Zhora’s heart. She couldn’t watch those fires in Zoe’s eyes die, nor see Zoe’s gentleness fade. Not the girl who spoke to her pistol and bandaged wounds with the gentlest hands. Zhora was placing her life in Zoe’s callused palms, along with the most dangerous weapon in the known Galaxies. Was Zhora worth it? “I know, Zhora. I tried to be bothered by it, but I’m not. Solis has hurt millions of people, and will continue to do so. She won’t stop trying to hurt you. I can’t let her take away the best thing to ever happen to me, okay? If it’s a choice between taking her life or watching you die, I’ll pull the trigger every time.” “Zoe. You’re taking a life. Not just in the heat of the moment, but premeditated. It’s not just a kill, it’s an assassination. I can’t as-“ “You really don’t get it do you? I love you. Wyst loves you. You’re our friend, and our Captain. We both owe you everything, and we WANT to help you. I can’t let you die. I won’t. The galaxy isn’t always nice, and I can’t always play nice if I want to protect what I love.” Zoe cut Zhora off with her impassioned speech, her eyes appearing to burn even darker. The Engineer trembled with the ferocity of her emotions. Zhora herself froze, reconciling the power Zoe emanated with their first meeting. Oh, how times had changed. “So, yeah. You’re not asking, I am telling you... I‘m ready. I’m doing it. Deal with it.” The Engineer concluded, spinning so that she could resume her work on the parts. For a long time, they remained silent. Zoe’s powerful words echoed in Zhora’s head, leaving the Captain staggering beneath their weight. Without realising it, Zhora found her fingers teasing the bottom of Zoe’s ponytail, taking in the softness of perfectly kept hair. It was another thing that made Zoe stand out. Her hair was natural, compared to the splashes of colour Wyst put through hers and the Blue to Green wash through Zhora’s hair. Zoe didn’t seem phased or distracted by Zhora’s fidgeting. Zoe’s hands remained remarkably steady as she worked. She had magnets dancing in their fields with such ease. A little flick would see those magnets dance; something which always drew a smile from Zoe. It was such an innocent thing to watch, magnets bouncing and Zoe smiling. The little giggles she let forth before licking her lips and settling down. Pink peeped out the corner of Zoe’s mouth, pinched between delicate lips. The tip of her tongue expressed so much. When she was annoyed, it ran across her lower lip; a cat’s tail swishing. When she was on the verge of success, the tip of her tongue peeped a little further out, chasing down victory. When Zoe paused to think, she rolled her tongue over the same place of her top lip for minutes on end. These little gestures were accompanied the adorably dorky scrunch of her nose, and a pursing of her lips to the right. Her left eye closed a little more than her right, yet her work remained unaffected. How could Zhora let that be destroyed? Worse, how could she prevent it? The more she thought, the more she realised that it was already unavoidable. Zoe was right, curse it. Solis wouldn’t stop with just Zhora, not after Wyst and Zoe had dug their heels in. They’d suffer too, no matter what Solis actually said. “I like the gumption, New Girl. Keep it up and I might let you have a look at some new designs.” Zhora eventually stated, breaking from her own dark musings. The surprise she felt at herself was echoed in Zoe’s wide eyes. “I’d like that.” Zoe’s response was level, yet she clearly couldn’t force herself to stop smiling. Zhora was thankful for the casualness of her response. It startled the Captain that she had even made such an offer. It was another breech in her security. Another door Zoe had hacked her way through, seemingly effortlessly. Offering such closeness was not Zhora. It was too hard to let people get this close. It made the inevitable loss too difficult to cast aside. Zhora couldn’t afford this. With Wyst, she had sworn it would be her only exception. Zoe made a liar out of her. That damned determined, fiery little colony girl. Damn Zoe, for being an actually interesting person. Damn Zoe for making Zhora actually care. Zhora may have been putting the most dangerous weapon created in Zoe’s hands, along with her own life, yet Zhora couldn’t help feeling as if she carried the most weight of them all. The weight of Zoe’s future. The weight of Zoe’s innocence.

an-aura-about-you replied to your post “thoughts on your favorite yugioh ship (because I'm like a vicarious...”

I love the turns this takes just reading this as an outside because we got an inter-dimensional war, we got God and Satan, we got traveling to the afterlife, and I'm over here like, "I knew there was more to it but I thought these kids were playing a card game???"

Card game anime in general is weird, but Yugioh actually started out as just as weird ghost story with supernatural/horror elements and so those just kinda kept getting added to the mix for some context

In Arc V the world started out as normal, but then a scientist went and made the card game real through special technology, as the extra tech essentially turned the card game into gladiator games, and the pressure for more violent content rose, one of the duelists had a breakdown, took advantage of the technology to fuse with his monsters and become a giant dragon himself and promptly tried to destroy the world

Card Game God was a teenage girl that stopped him by also taking advantage of the tech to basically restart the world and split it into four alternative dimensions, which is how the two of them get reincarnated and the plot kicks off when ppl try to fuse the dimensions back together and that involves gathering those reincarnations and reviving the two

Going back to DM, the original series, the mc, Yugi gets haunted by a ghost Egyptian Pharaoh and the series ends with him finally being laid to rest, and Kaiba is like “excuse me that was my emotional support rival” and fucks with the laws of reality to play his card game

For the fusion AUs: now that eddie is a canon good/decent cook, what would a buddie masterchef or cooking competition au look like?

okay so true confession, the only cooking competition show I've ever watched in my life is the original Great British Bake-Off so it's gonna be that kind of competition (set in America, I guess?? I know that sort of exists but I haven't seen it) so!

Buck would be that one contestant who gets really technical and does cool engineering type stuff with his bakes

but he gets marked down on style over substance a lot of time, because yeah, they look cool but they taste just kinda...functional.

Eddie's the guy who just started cooking last year and is already good enough to qualify for the show and gets the judges to be like ??? because it's so unexpected

like Buck he gets dinged for substance vs style, but backwards because his stuff tastes amazing but often looks like someone took a baseball bat to it

anyway, it's Bake-Off, so there are some good moments in the early weeks where Buck is having difficulty getting stuff out of a mould and Eddie's already finished with his bake or is waiting for stuff to cool and helps him out, and there's some stuff where Eddie's tiered cake is on the verge of collapse and Buck basically teaches him to dowel on the spot

and it's like...clear? from the b-roll footage type stuff of all the contestants hanging out that they're always sitting together when they've got breaks and they're getting to be really, really close

They both make it to quarter-finals, which is when Buck's style over substance issue finally catches up to him.

his exit interview has him kinda teary eyed but he can't say enough good things about his fellow contestants, and keeps mentioning that he's made life-long friendships here in the tent

Eddie scrapes through the semi-final by the skin of his teeth to become one of the finalists.

he doesn't actually win, though. He gets second, because the winner's final cake was just a little more finished than his was, in terms of style, but their flavour profiles were equally good

at the garden party at the end, when the winner is announced and all the other contestants from the season get to attend, the crowd footage shows Eddie and Buck basically glued together at all the major joints

the "where are they now" section is where we really find out what's gone on

because they send in a video someone's taken of the two of them in the kitchen together baking and being goofy and plainly, blatantly in love, while they teach Eddie's son Christopher how to bake

the epilogue note for them is that they're going to be opening a bakery together where Eddie is in charge of the flavour and Buck is in charge of the structure

it becomes a matter of Bake-Off legend

It’s Still You (Rhysothy Fluff)

Ship: Rhys/Timothy Lawrence

Summary: After Jack brands Timothy with the vault symbol, he's in a lot of physical pain and emotionally tattered. Luckily, he's got Rhys to help him pull himself back together.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Scarification

Read below the cut or on Ao3 Here!

It was late when Timothy had staggered into their apartment. He smelled like a sickening mixture of alcohol, burning flesh and Jack’s own scents. The smell of it all mixed together was nearly oppressive and Rhys couldn’t help but let out a distressed whine as it assaulted his senses. He didn’t realize it was Timothy at first, he had assumed that there was some intruder, until he saw him holding onto the wall so tightly that his fingers were white and raw looking. If he didn’t have that support, there was no doubt in Rhys’ mind that he would be stumbling and tripping over his own feet.

Rhys walked over to his bond mate in a hurry. He worried and fretted over him the minute that he was within reaching distance. He tried to be as gentle as possible when he grabbed a hold of Timothy’s arm and pulled him along into the living room so that Timothy could collapse on the couch. He practically hung all over Rhys’ slim frame as they trudged the short distance. Once they were sitting down, Rhys felt less panicked. It was okay. At least nothing worse could happen now, or so he thought. That was when he noticed the metal clasps fused to his temples. It was a mask, held tight to his face. It was nearly identical to Handsome Jack’s mask. “Oh, Tim…” He said, tone overflowing with sympathy. “What did he do to you?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. He ran his fingers through Timothy’s hair, gently calling the alpha to attention.

Before Rhys had met Jack, before he had officially taken on the mantel as Hyperion’s CEO – whether or not he killed Tassiter to get that position was still left up to debate – he had liked and admired the man. He had appreciated what he was trying to do for Pandora. And then he got up close and personal with the man and he started to realize what a monster he really was. “Well…I wouldn’t be a good body double if I didn’t match Jack one hundred percent. Timothy recited what Jack had told him right after he had been strapped down to a medical table and he was helpless to the mans whims, tone cold and withdrawn. There was still a prickling feeling under his skin. He still felt bitter and helpless. Maybe he always did and he always would. Maybe this just made it harder to hide it under a handsome face and a reminder to himself to just be like Jack. Talk like Jack. Walk like Jack.

It was just one more thing, chipping away at whatever was left of him until he became just another carbon copy Handsome Jack clone. He hated Jack. Hated Hyperion. Hated the student loans that threw him deep into debt. Hated himself, for being stupid and desperate to sign that contract in the first place. He was so stupid. He should have figured something out. Anything but this.

Rhys worried at his lower lip. He had never seen his alpha like this. Not when he’d discovered the massive debt that he had been thrown in. Not after the surgery. Not even after Jack had started demanding that he be injected with his DNA. “Can you take it off?” He asked, after a moment of awkward and deliberative silence had passed between the two of them.

Timothy smiled at Rhys, but it was in that Handsome Jack sort of way – like he thought he could flirt his way out of this situation. Like maybe he could flirt his way out of the scars on his face. “Take what off?” He said. The next thing that he knew, Rhys was practically sliding into his lap. His breath hitched, just a bit, in anticipation. Timothy had always been a little bit intimidated by Rhys, by his forwardness, by his confidence and the way that he could just walk up and demand what he wanted from anyone.

Maybe he was just putting him on a pedestal – he probably was – but he thought Rhys was bravest person that he had ever met. Even with Jack’s DNA fused with his own, he never really got over his hard wired shyness. When they first met, Timothy could barely get through a whole sentence without blushing like mad and stuttering all of his words. It took him months to get comfortable enough to ask Rhys out on a date and even then he had been nervous and fumbling through every word and action.

Rhys’ fingers flew to his face, thumbs scraping along the edges of them. “I think you know what I mean.” He said, tone surprisingly patient. He wore a gentle smile, one that only Timothy, Vaughn or Yvette were ever privy to see. One of his fingers twirled playfully at Timothy’s – Jack’s? – fringe in a small attempt to sooth his mate and get him to stop closing himself off. “Can you?” He repeated, softer.

Timothy sighed, “Yeah. I can…” He answered finally. His hands moved towards the clasps at his temple, brushing momentarily against Rhys’ fingers as he did so. “I can take it off. I should warn you first that- it’s just… you aren’t going to like this.”

There had been many times when Timothy felt like a monster, doing Jack’s bidding had a habit of making him feel monstrous. He had killed more people, had more blood on his hands than he ever wanted to have to think about. He stabbed people in the back. Lied. Cheated. And all on Jack’s behalf.

But never had he looked in the mirror, saw his face and thought that not only did he do monstrous things, but that he looked like a monster. Like something out of a horror film. He wouldn’t blame Rhys if he decided that this was enough, that he hadn’t signed up for any of this.

He takes a breath, prepares to accept the inevitable, and pulls it off of his face with heavily trembling fingers. He nearly drops the mask, shattering it. Jack wouldn’t like that. Rhys doesn’t say a word at first. For once in his life, he’s completely speechless. Timothy can feel that this is the end for them. Rhys is gonna go move back in with Vaughn, start ghosting him, and sever ties with him physically until their bond breaks. It’s an… unpleasant thought, but it feels like the truth.

Whatever hurts is true, he thinks, and the thought of Rhys leaving him hurts him more than anything.

Timothy is the first to speak, hoping that maybe he could control the damage here. “It’s a lot. I know.” He said, his hands hovering over his cheeks as if to cover his face from Rhys’ sight. “This,” He gestured towards his face, like Rhys would have had no idea otherwise.

“He did it to all the doppelgangers. I was the last one.” He didn’t explain why, but they both knew. He was the first body double that Jack had commissioned for, and he was Jack’s favorite. He wanted to be able to look at that handsome face for as long as possible, but in the end Timothy needed to match him perfectly. In every respect. Even in ways that he knew that Jack hated about himself.

Rhys’ brows knitted with concern, “Does it hurt?” He asked, knowing that it was probably a stupid question. Of course it hurt. The skin on his face had been marred and burned blue with an inverted vault symbol. It was horrifying, Rhys felt pain tickling at his own skin just from the sight of it.

“Eh? What this little scrape? I’ve had worse.” Timothy replied mostly as a joke, though it came off weak and unconvincing. He tried to laugh it off and when he did, he swore he could feel something tearing underneath his skin. It burned. Then it was just slicing, stabbing pain that left him incoherently babbling for… something. Then he was flailing, he couldn’t see – all he could comprehend was the intense hurt that he was feeling.

Rhys slid off of him, opting to sit right at his side. Timothy felt an ease of pressure, just a slight one, as he tried to force himself to breath right. Rhys stayed right by his side, saying words that he couldn’t really comprehend but nonetheless felt soothed by. He could feel Rhys’ gentle, soft hands petting at his skin, easing him back to reality with every gentle word and soothing touch.

The mask goes back on after that. There were little dopamine receptors fused into the clasp. It made the pain nearly non-existent. Manageable at least. Timothy let out a soft sigh, “Sorry about all this. I know this isn’t…” He trailed off. “It’s not a good look.” He says, tone devoid of all confidence and charisma.

Timothy nearly sounds like he did, back in college, when he was an anxious wreck with a squeaky voice and a passion for writing. “It’s not that bad.” Rhys says offhandedly. He even makes a vague sweeping gesture with his hand, like he’s pushing it all under the proverbial rug.

Because, really, he doesn’t care all that much about how Timothy looks. He never had, really – Rhys had liked Timothy for a lot of reasons. He liked how kind he was, how clever he was, he liked his creativity and the fact that he had always respected Rhys on his own merits and he never looked down upon him for his endotype. His looks had never been a factor in all of that.

Timothy let out a soft scoff at that, completely unconvinced. “Yeah, right.” He grumbled to himself. Even if it was under the mask, he had never looked this awful or this disfigured in his life. The thought that he would end up looking in the mirror every morning, even for just a few minutes, see himself and think “monster” as he looked upon his unmasked face, was warping his thoughts.

He was spiraling, upset and erratic. He knew it but couldn’t bring himself to do much to stop it. Rhys knew it too and he decided that it was up to him to put a stop to it. Rhys pursed his lips and then he moved back over, so that he was straddling the alpha’s hips again and pulled Timothy’s face in his hands and their foreheads pressed together. “I don’t care about what’s under that mask. Okay? It’s still you.” Rhys said, like he always did when Timothy felt overshadowed the man whose face he had been made to wear. They kissed, slow and sweet like dripping honey.

“Yeah?” Timothy replied, still unsure after they finally pulled away from each other. Rhys rest his head on Timothy’s shoulder, eased up close to him. “You sure about that?”

Rhys just nodded, not skipping a beat. “Of course I’m sure.” He replied, “No matter what, it will always be you.” He assured, “And I love you.”

Not Jack. Not your face. You.

Shitty jelmon hc’s that are canon in my head

Okay so since I am the only one who ships it in the whole fandom, there we go! Jelmon hc’s! (Jellal/Simon, platonic here) | Warning: my english still sucks

·        The first time they met was when Simon and Erza arrived in the Tower. They were 9. The two of them were the last ones of the group to get here. First was Jellal, then Millianna, then Wolly and then Sho

·        Jellal did the first step, offering his hand with a smile. Erza loved it, Simon hated it.

·        He really hated the smile, he always thought of it as “that stupid smile of his”. They’re slaves for God’s sake, why is he smiling after all

·        At first he didn’t really liked Jellal: he was stupid and reckless, smiling for nothing, talking like everything was alright and offering them his food almost every time he saw someone tired. Simon saw him like this kind of kids trying to impress everyone

·        So, he hated when Jellal asked if he needed a hand during the day. He was totally capable of working on his own

·        Which isn’t true when your nine and a slave

·        But Simon was a shy and silent kid who lived alone with his sister: why wouldn’t he be alright?

·        When he understood that Erza had a crush on Jellal, he went on feral mode and hated him

·        He was the first to know her after all, HE was the one who should be with her

·        So he became distant and sometimes mean to Jellal

·        And Jellal’s smile didn’t helped it

·        “Are you stupid? I said leave me alone!” “But you’re doing it wrong, you’ll hurt yourself” “I won’t!”

·        He did

·        Boom, first real injury

·        Jellal was always talking, this fucking kid couldn’t stay silent

·        Even during work

·        And at night

·        Like, he would let people sleep, OF COURSE, they need it

·        But if you do a nightmare: bae’s here

·        Let’s talk!

·        He didn’t sleep a lot, even as a child. He preferred dreaming about freedom, watching his friends sleeping safe and sounds or watching the stars

·        Simon hated that too because “dude stop watching us, you’re creepy”

·        Simon hated a lot about him. Jellal wasn’t mean or anything, it was just his attitude, in a place like the R-System

·        Then one day an accident happened: a kid and an adult died after something fell on them. The kid pushed Jellal out of the way, he saved him

·        Simon saw the whole scene

·        It was the first time he saw Jellal with horror in his eyes, tears starting to appear and being really shocked by what happened

·        But he had to go back to work

·        On their “lunch break” (the reality is that only the guards were eating, the slaves could if they saved their bread but if not, then they’s just wait), Jellal was nowhere to be find. Erza and friends were worried. Simon told them (mostly Erza because he was so sweet and kind with her and I love him for that) that he’ll find the other kid

·        He did

·        But Jellal was crying, the kid who died was one of his old friends

·        It was the first time Simon ever saw him crying and comforted him as he could, giving him a shoulder to cry on. And as strange as it may seems, he was a little relieved by Jellal’s reaction

·        Because for once, the boy was a being a boy, a child crying after the loss of a beloved one; and not a kid trying to be strong when he’s in pain

·        Because they’re slaves do I have to remind you. Jellal may be strong and brave, he’s a kid

·        After that they became closer because Jellal would stop smiling when he was unhappy, sad or tired

·        Even tho he’d still do it for Erza because his girl deserves happiness

·        Jellal always was like that, you can’t convince me otherwise

·        Simon and Jellal would talk all night long and sleep like two hours

·        They understood each other more every night

·        Sometimes Erza would join them

·        It was awkward because of the little love triangle but they’re pure and would just smile and tell each other bad jokes that Jellal wouldn’t always get (he’s sometimes stupid but it’s cute)

·        They invented stories too, always about children discovering the world

·        (Even today jerza remember them and it pains them more than it should)

·        So there you go, they’re happy and all

·        Then they try to escape, they get caught, Erza is taken

·        Jelmon are the ones who think about delivering her

·        But Simon is scared

·        Jellal is angry

·        He even said to Simon “we’ll have to fight”

·        Simon thought he was joking but then Jellal disappeared

·        And Erza came back

·        And he understood

·        But the revolt started so he couldn’t think about how braver Jellal was compared to him

·        And he fought as much as he could

·        Simon knew that Erza didn’t betrayed them

·        He knew Erza, the only one who got the chance to know her better than him is Jellal

·        Bad Jelly appears because of bad Ultear (I love you sweetie, but I love Jellal too and let’s be honest you fucked up)

·        I hc the brainwash/possession as super painful too, because, hell, someone’s entering in your head without consent, it’s a mind rape. Pretty sure Jellal’s still scared of this moment because in both manga and anime it was crazy (skeleton/deformed purple thing entering in his eye) and he was 11. So yeah, trauma

·        But, important point for me:

·        Simon knew it wasn’t Jellal

·        How?

·        Because Jellal had a “that stupid smile”

·        And that stupid smile disappeared

·        Since he didn’t know Ultear atm, he couldn’t know that it was her

·        He tried to understand, went in the cells where jerza got tortured, he couldn’t believe that Erza betrayed them… and thinking that Jellal really was a manipulative asshole couldn’t be an option neither. He even tried to talk to him, but Jellal just smiled and repeated the words he’d say to everybody

·        So for now he only could comfort the little ones (Milli and Sho)

·        He once saw Jellal with this strange girl he never saw. It was Ultear. He was sure she had something to do with it

·        He desperately tried to talk to her, asking her who she is, why is she here, that he never saw here

·        She smiled and played the innocent

·        But he continued

·        It was enough

·        And she threatened him, something like “You shouldn’t worry this much, Simon. Would be a shame if Kagura-chan got in troubles”

·        Because since he tried to understand what was happening, tried to talk to Jellal, she understood that he was a threat. But making him go away would just be dangerous because Erza being broken alone? She can’t do anything. But the two of them trying to get help, to stop what was happening? Too dangerous

·        So she decided to keep him but for that she needed to know his biggest weakness which was Kagura. And since she’s in Jellal’s mind, she knows everything he does. And Simon’s life is a part of it

·        And so my poor son had to stay here, trying to find a way to save his friends

·        And he couldn’t start a revolt because people believed more in Jellal than him, since Jellal got in the tower before him (and tbh who wouldn’t notice a blue haired boy with a strange tattoo on his face? Who can blame them)

·        He was stuck

·        Until they went to get Erza

·        Now, it’s in the canon you know what he did next, what he tried

·        But just to be clear, when he said to Natsu that Erza wanted to save Jellal, even after everything

·        Well, I think you can read it with two visions. 1) he’s just talking about Erza and 2) he was talking for both of them, but just gave up, and it was hurting him way too much

·        Following the event, he took the blast and died saving Erza

·        ANOTHER POINT YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER

·        Jellal/Ultear wanted to kill Natsu. Then Erza came. Jellal stopped but then laughed and continued. Then he threw the blast. And Simon showed

·        AFTER THE BLAST

·        Do you understand that? Even in canon Jellal/Ultear NEVER had the intention of killing Simon

·        So, I continue my hc’s

·        In the death scene, Jellal stopped everything and stared at them, then laughed, saying about how pitiful the whole thing was

·        During the whole fight, Jellal was fighting the intruder in his mind, things didn’t seem right. Every time he stopped in the scene (when Erza goes in front of Natsu and when Simon is shown after the blast) is when he was dominating his mind, but he couldn’t totally escape and Ultear would always take control

·        The moment where he took total control and was back, the moment where he was winning his real fight, his mind, is when he finally felt the pain from the injury he got from Erza

·        And then, Natsu does the whole speech about not being able to be free if following a ghost, that he needed to free himself

·        And there he is, Jellal is back at this moment

·        But still takes a huge fucking punch and end up unconscious

·        Natsu defeated the corpse, but Jellal defeated the spirit

·        This fight is for me composed of two. And maybe that’s why it’s one of my favorite from the manga

·        When my son wakes up, he’s hurts, he can’t feel his body, everything hurts

·        He stands up but feel so heavy and then see his reflection in the Etherion/Lacryma that became the tower

·        And then: shock

·        He’s an adult

·        He’s beaten up

·        His stomach is bleeding, his face too

·        And the only thing he remember clearly is a voice calling itself God

·        He walks and find Simon’s corpse

·        He strangely recognises him, runs to him, saying “I’m back!”

·        But the other is cold

·        And he understands

·        And he remembers

·        And he screams

·        And he cries

·        And finally, he gets up and goes to like save Erza like always

·        He takes her out of the lacryma; and without knowing why, knows what he has to do

·        He fucked up anyway, so his death wouldn’t be a problem

·        While trying to fuse with the Etherion, he looks at Erza, cheeks wet and swollen eyes

·        “You became really strong, Erza…”

·        And then he does it

·        He disappears in the Etherion

·        And Natsu, on the ground, looking at the scene forces himself to get up and flee with Erza

·        Without understanding what happened, why..

·        All he knows is that Erza is now safe

·        And while the two of them flee

·        The two little boys who were once slaves are finally free

SHAN, Act I.

17 ATC. THE DEFIANCE. 15:00

It's quiet.

As soon as they hit hyperspace, Andronikos can't do much more than just sit back, the tension flowing out of him as his shoulders lower. Staring out into the blue abyss that's before them, nothing matters. His hands drop from the controls, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. Maybe if it hurts worse than it already does, he'll wake up from this blasted dream.

Or this nightmare, with how things were going in the last hour or so. Either way, he desperately wanted out of it.

Lexulle had come back from worse. Much worse than just some attack on a cruiser. Ghosts tried to take her physical form when she was barely an apprentice, tried to tear her apart from the inside out. Her own master had tried to kill her before that, a hundred-something year old woman trying to kill someone who was just barely out of their teenage years. Still, she was able to move past that and triumph over those that couldn't find it in them to believe in her, if not with nightmares that cropped up every couple of months. Or at least, as far as he was concerned they were every couple of months.

Still, Lexulle never just died. She was too strong to be bound to a grave that early in her life. He refused to believe that whatever the hell was out there had taken their Darth Occlus -- his Lexi.

She wasn't his, not really, but it didn't change the fact that he cared about her, and that she cared for him just as much. He swore no matter what happened he'd be there for her, and against his better judgement, he'd just left her for the mercy of whatever ship had just appeared out of the bowels of the galaxy. One hell of a protector he was. He should've stayed, he would've stayed if she hadn't pleaded with him to leave with her crew in that blasted desperate voice that could've gotten him to do anything.

He wants to believe she'll be back, on some Imperial shuttle in a few hours, meeting up with them at a little halfway planet. Maybe a little worse for wear, but alive. Jokingly answering questions and just being her. Being the Lexi he knows, ready for an outing with Malcom or a photo shoot the very next day, just as beautiful as she always is with as many scars and bruises as she'd managed on this mission alone. He doesn't want to accept that reality might have more in store than just that. Doesn't even want to think about how she might be floating around in space with Marr, no hope of ever going home.

The shell-shocked expressions of the rest of the crew behind him are quiet, at least. No questions are asked, and no one moves. No one says anything, not even a simple Jedi line out of Ashara. Even the kid is quiet, though Andronikos had still hear him sleepily whimpering. No one knows what to do. With the exception of the time that Lexi had been literally fighting a war for her own body, she was always there to give them direction or the next thing to do. Years ago he would've balked at being under the leadership of someone other than himself, now that's all he can ask for. Wanting Lexulle at the head of the ship instead of an empty space that his brain keeps filling with her.

There also happened to be no protocol, Imperial or otherwise, for when your Captain went missing in a fight against some unknown force. Not one he could wrack his brain and remember, at the very least.

"We're two days out to Dromound Kaas," He finally breaks the silence, keying in the coordinates for the Imperial homeworld and rising from his seat once they've been accepted, "I suggest you all pack your things you might need for a day trip, soon as we hit airspace without Lexulle they'll kick us from the ship once they find out. Probably start an investigation soon as we're in the spaceport."

"But she's coming back, Andronikos. They wouldn't retake the Defiance without confirming that she's really gone," Ashara responds firmly, voice cracking as she smooths out the dark curls of the boy who sits in her lap. She lifts those big blue eyes to him, near pleading without words and he's glad he doesn't crack right there and then in front of her, "Would they?"

He doesn't have all the answers. But hoping they let them keep an Imperial interceptor ship (seven years old but the Empire did like their hardware) without the Sith it's essentially tied to is false hope. He thinks that if they simply don't report she's missing until she gets back, they could have the Defiance to themselves for a couple days. Lexulle would have his head for so openly breaking a law, but it's the first solution that comes to mind. They'd just ignore whoever was hailing her as long as it took.

He doesn't want to leave. Other than the military, this the only place he's been longer than a few weeks at best. He's actually happy here, things are stable enough that he can say he actually lives her instead of it just being a layover to his next 'home'. But he'd never say that to anyone else, not in the presence of anyone else. The question hangs in the air, unanswered and unwilling to be touched.

"Under a few jurisdictions, we'd be evicted within the week if Lexulle didn't return." Talos answers for him. Of course he would know, he probably had Imperial Law as a bedtime story as a kid, "Not that I don't have any belief in Darth Occlus' ability to do the impossible, but Andronikos is correct. We may have to spend a few days in the apartment while she gets everything back as it should be."

"And if she doesn't come back? What laws come into play then?" He asks, steeling his voice against breaking. It's a fair question, not one he wants in practice but now is the best time to familiarize himself with the law of the land. He can hear Ashara want to say something else, but Talos beats her to it.

"Chances are, we'll be permanently evicted. The Defiance doesn't legally belong to us, and though Xalek and Ashara are Sith, neither of them have completed their trials yet. Khem Val is a Dashade, the Sith will be looking for him. Andronikos has minimal ties to the Empire and will most likely be ignored for the most part, but surely I'd be put back with the Reclamation Service." Talos answers, a frown on his face, standing from his seat in a gentle parade rest. He can't meet anyone's eyes, even as Andronikos turns to him to ask another question. That's unusual enough in itself.

"We live here though! We have for six years, they shouldn't be able to just take it from us!" Ashara says, not even lowering her voice anymore. She's frustrated, understandably. There's a glint of gold in her eyes, which terrifies him to no end. He'd only seen Ashara angry a few times since he'd known the Knight, and had seen what she was capable of. Malcom wakes, but she doesn't notice, "They can't make us leave, they can't! Even if she is really gone..."

"Sith will be back." Is all Khem grunts out rather matter-of-fact before leaving the bridge, Xalek on his heels. The Dashade doesn't leave any room for discussion at all, leaving those in the cockpit in silence. He should probably check in on the Kaleesh at some point before they leave the Defiance. Considering how highly he thought of Lexulle, even going as far as to refer to her as mother even though she was both shorter than him and not even a decade separated them, Andronikos could predict he was probably on just as short a fuse as the rest of them were. If not more, and that was a terrifying thought by itself.

But she wasn't dead. That was an idea he wouldn't even begin to entertain as bleak as things got. They drop out of hyperspace just back into the civilized galaxy within a couple of hours, and only he, Ashara and Malcom stay on the bridge. He wakes up a few times, his green eyes wet with tears and his dark hair mussed by hours of sleep. Eventually, Ashara asks to take the controls so that Andronikos can put Malcom down for a bit. He's reluctant to, it's only her second or third time piloting the ship without him in the immediate vicinity, but he knows she's right. She needs her own time alone, after being under Lexulle for so many years and the way their relationship was as Master and Apprentice, he can't imagine she's doing much better than Xalek. Gently, he manages to slip the toddler out of the Togruta's arms and gives her detailed instructions to get them on course to the next planet. She doesn't respond with words, but he knows she understands. He ends up laying down in the crew quarters with the kid for a while, Malcom bumbles in and out of restless sleep for a bit before being out cold for another few hours.

He doesn't give himself even a minute to process what was going on. Maybe that wasn't right, but if he stopped moving for even a moment, started considering the actual fallout from this mission at all, that usually lead to regrets and alcohol, and that wasn't what the crew needed right now. He was Captain again, and he had to keep things together for as long as they needed to be.

Wordlessly, the crew goes about their daily tasks, along with cleaning and packing what essentials they needed over the next few days. It was kind of spooky watching as the Defiance was cleared out of most things, making it seem as if no one lived there full time. The crew quarters, which weren't really junky before was stripped clean of things that made it the Defiance's crew's quarters. No weapons or clothes were to be found. It was like being thrown back in time to when he'd first joined the crew after Tatooine, still curious how he'd make his mark on the galaxy after everything with the Republic and his piracy days being firmly behind him as long as he worked for a Sith. A Sith he was at the time, hellbent on showing her a good time and loosening her up (in the end, he was the one who was shown a few new things) but came to respect after some time. Slowly but surely the crew had grown into a family around Lexulle and her march across the galaxy. Where he'd once been annoyed by the Force trinkets and knick knacks that Talos, Ashara and Xalek often collected that littered the corners of the room, his heart aches to see them ominously glowing a last time in the dim red light of the quarters. All the nights they'd spent up and awake much longer than they should've, the days they'd spent in medbay patching each other up and all the memories they'd made together are fading fast, just as quick as packs can be made and crates are filled. It's as if it's all disappearing right before his eyes, all the years being erased.

But it's not permanent. That's what keeps him grounded, knowing that he is coming back. This isn't for forever. A couple of days at most, so while he takes his guns with him, the bed sheets stay. The larger, non essential things stay where they are, packed away in the cargo bay for later. For safe keeping, as Talos reassures him. They're locked behind a pass code, in case Imperial officials get any ideas. He tries not to brush the smaller man off too much, he's only trying to help to the best of his ability. Everyone was, everyone was only trying to make the conversion easier. Andronikos just needed to figure out how to cultivate that into something more productive and healthier for the crew.

Even if he didn't entirely know how to.

That included Malcom. Stars, he knew how to watch the kid, where to find him when he went running off, when to feed him and when he was getting up to things he had no business being in, but he didn't know how to deal with the three year old's emotions shortly after Marr's ship and the subsequent battle. Lexulle's son always had that frown on his face that broke him in two, her previous lightsaber hilt always in his hands. Some parts he'd lost, so it was far from functional, but it provided some comfort to the boy. He liked to run his hands over it, hell liked to sleep with the thing like a metal plushie and even though Ashara had managed to take it from him, afraid he'd scratch his delicate cheeks, he'd managed it back within the hour. It was a part of him, just as much as his mother was. There were always tears that someone wiped away, but Andronikos was beginning to believe there wasn't any end to the hiccups and cries for his mother. He takes refuge with Ashara at first, before he comes toddling to him begging for Andronikos to bring his mother back. It's not healthy for him, but he let's the boy cry late into the night, falling asleep just before midnight in Imperial space on his chest while Andronikos sits up piloting the Defiance. He wishes for nothing more than to soothe him with his mother back, just as all of them do. Andronikos, sadly, isn't a miracle worker though. Only the stars know if Malcom is right, if Ashara...if anyone is right with their misplaced hope.

He doesn't get a lot of sleep those few days either. He can't. In essence, he won't.

So he doesn't.

Malcom isn't his son, he's far from it. But, he's not Theron's either. He grits his teeth at this thought, partially upset with the SIS agent for being such a fleeting idea of perfection for her and partially frustrated with himself for hanging on to this for so long. He's always been there for her and for him, but Lexi had always said she wasn't willing to commit long term to anyone but her son. Specifically because of all the unknowns.

Sometimes he wishes he was included in that exception, but she didn't ever say things like that lightly. She would've told him if that's what she wanted, and she was the boss. Especially after his own botched admission to wanting to be with her, he figures it's time to drop the subject. They were friends, maybe in that grey area, but he was firmly no longer on her mind. He doesn't know why he misses her in that way, he doesn't know why he can't just move on from her.

The only solace he gains from these petty thoughts he tries not to bury beneath alcohol and late sabaac nights with the crew is that Theron is not one of the people she wants to be with either. As long as her frustrated rants still meant the same thing three years later, he was the furthest thing from her mind. The way he should be, really. Maybe he didn't do anything outside of actually impregnating her, but Andronikos couldn't help being upset with him. Malcom would probably spend years never knowing his actual father, maybe his entire life if Lexulle kept it from him that long. Maybe because she grew up knowing both her parents, and then having them ripped away from her at such a young age didn't do her any good. Not knowing instead of yearning for him would do the kid some good. Less emotional impact as well.

Once the other rooms are done and packed up, Andronikos takes it upon himself to clear out the last one the day before they hit Imperial airspace -- Lexulle's personal quarters. He'd done that on purpose, not bothering with the room full of memories until the very last second that he could and reliably still have everything packed up.

He'd been a staple here for a few years, almost a sort of home to him. Given it was under the cover of relative darkness most of the time, but he still remembered it like the back of his hand. Yet, it was only short two years until he'd popped the question late one night, off a battle high after Voss. Then, he'd had to leave as not to make a bad situation worse. He hopes he still remembers where she kept everything as he slowly takes the room in.

He flickers the dim light on, and while there are a few of Malcom's toys littering the floor, it remains the same as he'd remembered it. The same deep purple comforter, same dresser, same weird Sith paintings on her wall. Gathering a couple of the toys and stashing them away in a box that seemed to hold the rest of them, he doesn't bother bringing them. The kid had sixty million other ones in the apartment, he wouldn't miss three or four or...twenty apparently. The room is clean, though her doublesaber is missing from where it was usually stored on her nightstand. Her holocom is gone from it's charging port, but her datapad remains with the matching stylus poised to write again laying across the screen.

He grabs that as well, though extremely careful not to drop it with his shaking hands. She wrote and drew and surely gave her life blood to the thing. It probably knew more about her than any physical being did. When she got back, she'd be looking for it. For a moment, he considers trying to figure out how to get into it, but breaches of privacy he rarely entangled with. And with her fate so up in the air, not a single word for the last day and a half, he doesn't need his curiosity sated by this. If he really cared about her, he wouldn't.

So he doesn't. He slips it into a pack without another thought. If she wanted to, one day she'd tell him herself.

Once the rest of the room has been straightened and accordingly packed away, he moves over to her dresser. A tad dusty, but otherwise clear. A few other force knick knacks decorate it, as well as something he thinks is a datacron pulsing red at him. He decides firmly against touching that. If she needed it, it would be here for her when she got back to do whatever Sith did with odd boxes of fate. A couple parts glint in the darkness, surely Lexulle had found the pieces that were gone from her old saber over the years and collected them.

His attention moves to the glinting box on the opposite side of the dresser. Her jewelry is in an ornate black box that he'd bought for her after their excursion to Alderaan (put him out of a hundred credits but all that had mattered then was how her eyes lit up at the gift). It was nothing special, and with the way they weren't mutually exclusive, he'd thought she would've let it gather dust somewhere with all the other gifts that people had bought her over the years, hoping to earn her permanent affection. Yet, as he grows closer, it's nearly pristine and still in the same condition as when he'd bought it. He's genuinely surprised, but it puts a sad sort of smile on his face.

It feels too personal to go rummaging around in her things, like something he hasn't earned the right to do, but he can't help himself to click open the silver latch, quietly as if she might walk in at any time. What greets him isn't immediately identifiable as per se, things a very influential Sith Lord would wear. There's her typical ruby necklace she wore, shaped like a kyber crystal and hanging off a delicate golden chain. She owns many in varying colors, but the red one had always been her favorite. Unlike the others, this one had been the last thing her father had given her before he'd died at the hands of some Jedi. At least, as far as he knew.

He wonders why she didn't wear it today, or technically two days ago. There's an assortment of other surely expensive pieces, all in red or gold or both. A few he can pick out, putting the jewelry with the suitor that had presented it to her. One he remembers rather clearly, a Zabrak who'd brought her an entire ring set while they were packing up to leave Rishi. He'd thought she discarded it, with everything with Theron going down that she wouldn't care for them. Then again, Lexulle was very much a fashionable Sith, if she was going to just throw away such a collection in the name of one man, then he'd probably be extremely concerned.

As he goes about the rest of his day, he finds all he can think about is the SIS agent. Not with contempt (well, with contempt), but with curiosity. He'd thought Theron was the one that would tie her down, albeit very loosely, but at least keep her grounded. Her flights of fantasy and infidelity, while hilarious in retrospect, were surely taking it's toll on her. She'd never had someone to call her's, hadn't even called him her boyfriend or lover at any point in time. It had become rather exhausting after so many years for him, hence why things didn't last with Casey. He'd warned her not to get involved with something she couldn't finish, something that she couldn't see to the end. A Republic spy no less, and she was on the Dark Council, had been for nearly a year at that point. He'd known that things with Theron wouldn't end well, known that she was just going to end up unsatisfied. But she didn't care and continued on with the little fling. He'd caught her with the man plenty of times on Yavin that she didn't know about, and the flirts didn't go over his head as well as Lexulle had probably hoped while he stood nearby. No wonder they were an entire six hours late for their flight back to Vaiken to refuel and restock before they hit Dromound Kaas again. He filled in the blanks as he waited near the Defiance, chatting up a few Imperial soldiers before he and the Republic were the last ones left. Andronikos didn't have anywhere to be during this entire Revan mess, nor did Ashara, but she had been on the orbital station during all this.

It was the middle of the night when she came back, dark hair mussed clothes hastily donned, and half of them in her hands. He didn't ask any questions, didn't say anything as she sat in the passenger's seat in the Defiance, knees brought up to her chest and staring out into the starry abyss. There weren't any tears, there wasn't any angry sobbing or even a breakdown where she told him exactly what happened. All there was...was just quiet. As if pieces had been broken off of her deliberately, as if she wasn't her in that very moment. What Theron had done, what he'd said was a mystery to him for months. All he knew was that the next time he ever saw the agent he'd hurt him for hurting his Lexi.

He tried not to bring him up again. And for a while, it seemed like Lexi was willing to put the entire idea of him behind her, subsequently burning it with a metaphorical match. She was herself for a while, less prone to visiting every cantina she came across, but more her than she had been in what felt like months.

And then that proceeded to immediately end when she'd come to him in the middle of the night later that month, shaking in her nightclothes like a leaf, crying into his arms that she was pregnant. He, hadn't been intending to ever deal with any emotional breakdowns on this partnership, but all he could do was hold her. He didn't know what else to do, and to say he felt powerless in that moment would've been the biggest understatement of the millennia. They weren't prepared for a baby. Not in the slightest. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to yell in the void about, but...well there wasn't much else he could do. There wasn't anything he could do to turn back the clock, to keep her from meeting Theron in the first place (as much as he wanted to). He couldn't blame this on her, couldn't put this on anyone. As much as he wanted to find someone to be angry at, there was no one.

He could try blaming fate for once, but that wasn't helping anyone.

She was stubborn enough that staying on the Defiance was her one wish, even though she had a perfectly good apartment -- hell even one of the best ones in the city back home, she wasn't interested. Putting her life at risk was apparently not about to be deterred by the fact she would be due only a few months from then. Absentmindedly, he wonders if it simply runs in her family. Not that he'd met anyone in her family except for that blasted ghost she kept telling him about. It wasn't even like she could fight later down the line, though she was determined to continue honing her lightsaber abilities. Blazes he'd wanted to stop her then and there, but then Ziost had happened.

He desperately wanted Ziost to never have happened, especially so early on. The false hope that it gave her, that twinkle in her eyes that he hadn't seen in nearly a whole month. He doesn't know why she didn't tell him then and there, why she let him stay in the dark about his own child. Considering what little he already knew about the mysterious and apparently alluring Theron Shan, it was just something he didn't expect from her in the slightest. It seemed odd, unlike her even. Still, the massacre that went down those few days, he could understand why bringing that up would've only lead to trouble. More than they were already in, at least. Lexulle didn't like people worrying about her, didn't want people thinking they knew better for her own life. It had gotten him shoved off plenty of times beforehand, and with the way Lana was already overly concerned about sending her out to begin with, adding Theron to that would've set her off.

The look of emptiness in her eyes put a hole in him as they watched the planet die just before them in the viewport. She'd let him hold her for a few minutes, though the lethargic way she leaned against him made him realize that none of this was right. Much as she didn't want to say it, this kid was an accident, plain and simple. One she hadn't planned for, or was even ready for. Lexulle hadn't been ready to be a mother.

They left in silence, him and Khem flanking her. She didn't say a word to anyone for the longest time. Seeing the regret in her eyes, the hurt, it was unbearable. A few times he'd been able to talk to her, get any sort of conversation from her. Only when they were relatively alone, of course, but he learned more about her then than he'd been able to in the years past. She wasn't young, twenty eight at that point. But up until then she'd only really been looking out for herself, had to only look out for herself, and was just warming up to the idea of looking after them at the same time.

Someone she couldn't leave, or at least one that she didn't want to, must've thrown her for a loop.

He lingers, looking over the room. He considers picking something else, maybe to pacify the kid for a few more hours until they can land. Her hospital bracelet and Malcom's matching one remain in the jewelry box, but he decides firmly against that. Lexulle would kill him for losing one or the other. Well, anything from that day could've killed him if she didn't have the restraint. A few bones were surely still out of place, his fingers had hurt for days after Malcom was born.

Look at him, reminiscing like an old man. Looking for any purchase in this mess they've made.

"Andronikos?" Ashara's voice sounds from outside the door alongside a knock. He slides his pack over his shoulder as her knocks become more incessant. He gives a lingering glance to the box, before delicately shutting it and heading towards the door.

"Yeah, what do you need?" He asks once he opens it, and she shifts Malcom on her hip. Blazes, those big green eyes had no business being on this kid, so full of innocence and hurt, "I was just finishing up in here."

"There's something you need to see," Is all she says, lowering her gaze to the ground, to the interior of her room, to Malcom, but anyone else but him, "Some place called Zakuul has...well Imperial security has already locked the transmission down but Talos managed to grab it before they took it off the Sith frequency."

"Zakuul?" The word sounds weird on it's own, unfamiliar, but if they had anything on Lexi, then he's willing to listen, "What do they have to say?"

She gestures with her head to Malcom, "For his sake, I think you should watch it without him."

That sends a chill down his spine. That was something the crew only ever said if it concerned Lexi having to leave for something or the other, or something that Lexi didn't want him hearing. At nearly three, Malcom had gotten rather good at understanding messages and stringing them together in his own thoughts. No conversation was safe from him any longer. And that meant that nothing in this message was considered good. From a weird planet, or person or group of people, he has his reservations. Considering his Sith, even more.

The Togruta leaves, heading back towards the crew quarters to surely find a way to distract Malcom from the rest of the crew, who's standing around a slightly glitching holoterminal. Talos is fumbling with something in the panel, Xalek with his arms crossed and a sour expression behind his mask. Khem, is very loudly doing something in the cargo bay. He prays silently it's not because of what he'd just witnessed, "Talos. You found something?"

"The Imperial Citadel picked this up while we were in hyperspace a few hours ago, surely Ashara told you who sent it?" He questions, running a hand through his unkempt hair. This is the most distressed he's ever seen the man, his blonde hair all over his head and not even wearing his Reclamation Service uniform. He's slept, maybe more than Andronikos has, but he's been restless. He surely had let the stress get to him, not even stopping for a moment. Tinkering away in the cargo bay, always working on something. To take his mind off of things, in a less destructive way than some other members of the crew. He and Andronikos hadn't been all that different, in that regard.

"Some 'Zakuul'?" He fills in, watching as the holo-image flickers to life. A man appears, completely grainy and indiscernable nearly, but scarred and with a mask over his face. Then, he fizzes out again, "They managed to pick this up?"

"Recovered from the ship's long range sensors when they sent in recovery teams about two days ago from Ilum, off some odd channel that the destroyer managed to pick up. It's not extremely clear, but piecing together the message is...concerning," Talos says offhandedly, clicking over a couple more buttons.

"Recovery teams? You mean they might have found her?" Andronikos asks, ignoring the last statement. He tries not to get his hopes up, but it's impossible not to. At some point in between when they'd left and now, that meant the Empire had managed to get people back out here to the ship. And if they had recovery teams, there was a chance they might've found Marr and Lexi.

Dead or alive, but he'd burn that bridge when he got to it.

"...Valkorion, is dead -- murdered by an Outlander who...great society." The transmission continues to fizzle out, but he's piecing together the story. Zakuul was some planet out in the far reaches of space, probably the thing that she and Marr had run into, "....assassin will receive swift and just punishment....act of unprovoked aggression..."

"What's he going on about?" He asks Talos in a moment of silence, "Who's Valkorion?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, Revel," He answer solemnly, messing with another few dials and buttons, "We're not even supposed to have this, no one outside the Council is."

"So they know Lexulle is gone?" He drags a hand down his face, a groan escaping him. Great, now there was no way out of this, "I thought we would've had more time."

"The eviction transmission came in this morning. I considered deleting it entirely but..." There's so many cogs twisting and turning in his head that Andronikos can nearly see it, as he thinks up any solution for this problem they've found themselves in. No more Defiance for a while then.

"We're about to hit Kaasian space. Yeah." He says, as the transmission returns.

"...Emperor, I can promise you this...full power of the Eternal Throne...they will answer for their warmongering ways,"

"So he's got an Emperor complex, great," Andronikos rolls his eyes. They'd had enough problems with the blasted Emperor for one lifetime. Talos seconds his opinion with a quiet response, though Andronikos can't make out what he says, "Where is this Zakuul anyways?"

"Speculation is that they're further out in Wild Space, hence the attack on Darth Marr's ship and all of the unknowns about them," Talos responds, "I believe administration was trying to keep this further under wraps, but their communications still arrived here at the ship. I believe they only discovered these a few hours ago, and then sent it to Council members."

Andronikos doesn't answer. The way it continues with the static, he's beginning to think that was all they'd managed to get from the holo. It doesn't confirm that either of the Sith are alive or dead, but he's considering taking this as a declaration of war from this 'Zakuul'. The way that he says 'Emperor' and just how long it had been since the last Emperor had gone astray, he's figuring it might be a cult on the rise. Revan's wasn't any fun to deal with, and he thinks this is one is even less. Might be more powerful but at it's core -- he still doesn't want to deal with it at all, "That it?"

"That's as far as we got last time," Talos responds, clicking a few more buttons with a little bit more force than truly necessary, "It's extremely spotty, if I can barely get this much out of it I'm sure the Imperials are doing just as well. I'm not sure what Intelligence or the Sith intend to do with it just yet. With such little information on Zakuul at the moment--"

"And the Core Worlds will burn."

Talos jumps back, as the audio grows nearly unbearably loud with the grizzly voice. The only clear thing out of the entire transmission, and it had to be the most ominous as well. It winks off a moment later, though the words are already etched into his memory. With such certainty as well, and then ships they'd seen earlier being way more high tech than anyone should really ever be having...he's maybe edging onto the idea that this wasn't just a cult. Making a jump from just being after the Empire to the entire Core Worlds, to say the least it didn't make him feel any better.

Another transmission comes through fifteen minutes later just as Dromound Kaas comes into view, this time everyone surrounding the holo with anticipation in their eyes as the sight of an Imperial officer appears in blue. He holds Malcom to the best of his ability, held together by sheer will and less sleep than was truly appropriate. Though everything is fuzzy with sleep deprivation, the words ring clear.

"Darth Lexulle Kallig has been confirmed missing in action alongside Darth Marr of the Dark Council. The current occupants of Kallig's Imperial Interceptor, code name the Defiance, have forty-eight hours to vacate the ship...."

He has a little too much satisfaction shutting off the man's drawl, and turns to address the rest of the crew before Malcom starts, "What does vacate mean? And where's mummy an' Marr?"

He hesitates. At first he can't find the words. Malcom isn't as old as the others, he'll take whatever he says extremely literally, "Vacate means we gotta go, kid. As for Lex...just means they don't where she is yet. But they're looking, which is all that matters."

He seems to accept that answer, mulling it over and making sense of it. Andronikos turns to the rest of the crew, "You heard the man. Get your things and get ready to leave."

-

He's attended a few funerals in the past, usually out in the middle of nowhere for friends that lost their lives in ship accidents. They were pretty far and few in between, but the idea that a bunk would be empty for the forseeable future always hurt a bit. Never dwelled on it long, especially after the first few times he'd had to leave a crew, but names were the hardest. Calling for someone who wasn't there anymore.

The darkest one was when he lost one of his squad members after a battle gone wrong before he'd defected from the Republic. He didn't remember much from that point, had drank himself silly first, but it was enough to put him off ever making a big fuss about anyone in his life again.

People died. That was just what happened. Galaxy wasn't the safest place for any sentient being, and you signed that contract when you joined a crew or did much of anything. Life wasn't handing out easy lives to people either. Became shoot or get shot very quick.

He could barely handle this. Sith mingling around and acting like they owned the place. He wasn't a fan of Dromound Kaas, but had only come on Lexulle's request. Somehow she'd made it less stuffy, less elitist than the times he'd been here without her.

Now it feels like he's being choked, or some gundark is using him as a footrest. He's not going to cry in front of anyone, much less cry at all. It's unbearable though, his chest tight as he runs a finger over the plaque with her name in script. Her assumed birth date and the same day they'd had to leave her is just below it.

They'd given Lexulle and Marr a memorial. A service of some sort. Marr had gotten one in the military district, surely to pay homage to his service to them. Apparently that's what he'd done, and he'd been good at it for as long as he was alive. He had to give it to the man, he'd done nothing but be a leader, and Lexulle had looked up to him, trusted him too. Safe to say the man had earned his respect a long time ago.

Lexulle's wasn't as populated, though was in the cultural district. People had surrounded it with flowers of all types, though the more popular color was a deep purple. Jungle plant, one he'd seen while wandering around with her. For as much as she did with ghosts and stuff, not to mention the fact she'd killed another Darth for their seat, he would've figured the Sith would've put her somewhere less desirable. Yet, it was a proud memorial with a statue going up in a few months. Nothing as large as the one in the Colossus, not even one as big as Marr's, but with the plan sent to Ashara, he'd like to think she'd be proud of it. Even the cult from Nar Shaddaa had sent both Rylee and Destris to put offerings around it, and not a single coin went missing as far as he was concerned. People respected her, less because she was Sith and more because of who she was, more than he'd thought with the way she spoke of the Empire. Maybe because she was less 'stab first ask questions later' than he'd thought.

Malcom had made it so that he would bring her flowers everyday with the money Lexulle had left for him. His mother had left him a hefty sum of money, labelled with detailed instructions for someone who would be with him after she was gone. He and Ashara had gone over it plenty of time, nearly eliciting tears from him. She knew she wouldn't be around forever, and from the sound of it she would've accepted it wholeheartedly. Andronikos couldn't find a reason to decline the boy's request. It was the only way he knew how to handle it all, how to cope with everything. No three year old should've had to suffer the way he was, but he did his best to take it in stride. It was too much to ask for him to stop crying at the funeral, they had all shed plenty of tears that day.

He felt so hopeless walking into the apartment, Malcom sleep and stuffy-nosed from crying most of the day. Much as he didn't want to say it, he was going to be looking up to all of them to help him, introduce him to the world. He couldn't help it if Malcom saw him as a father figure, and would probably have to take it no matter what.

He couldn't help but wonder if like Kallig, she'd come back as a ghost. Given, no one except for Khem, Ashara and Xalek were force sensitive, but it didn't seem that impossible. She'd come back for her son in the afterlife, he's sure. Not by his standards, at least. Maybe that was just a copout so that he'd feel better,but still wanted to hope she wasn't really gone. That all of this was just a really bad dream he'd wake up from in a couple hours.

Ashara didn't bother sticking around that week. First she went back to the Sanctum, clearing out Lexulle's things and taking on what she could. He barely saw the Togruta those first couple of days as she buried herself in Sith affairs. Xalek followed her, but he couldn't see the Kaleesh actually handling any amount of paper work. Not to say he couldn't, but that he most likely wouldn't be amused by the thought. Talos was all too happy to stay locked away in his personal quarters or wherever the Reclamation Service met during the day, though he often returned for meals. Khem didn't have anywhere to truly go, so he acts as a protector of sorts. Not nearly as talkative as he once was, but Andronikos is glad he's here. He's less likely to be jumping at shadows with the Dashade lingering around every corner.

The apartment grows more and more desolate by every passing day. Ashara rarely visits anymore, Xalek is learning under someone else now. Talos...Talos chose to be anywhere other than the apartment. It's just him and Khem, and more often than not, just him. Only him to watch the rain fall, to try and get Malcom to eat anything. To even teach Malcom. Though he is Lexulle's son, it's more difficult to try and get him into an academy without the Force backing him. He's told to watch for the signs of budding force sensitivity, levitating objects without knowing it, breaking things without explanation. Andronikos doesn't understand any of that mess, so he takes it upon himself to get Ashara to find him some holonovels on Sith and whatnot.

Malcom isn't interested in learning about Sith anymore. Where most boys were (apparently) interested in the military, Malcom wanted to be part of the Sith Guard as soon as he heard about it from his mother. Now, all he wants to do is find a way to fix Lexulle's lightsaber and then find her. No dreams of schooling, of the Guard, of anything else. Just Lexulle.

There's only so much he can do to keep Malcom from asking questions he can't answer. As much as they visit the memorial and Malcom talks circles with the plaque, after a few months he isn't satisfied anymore with just bringing flowers. Andronikos tries to comfort him, but the three year old is beginning to gain a sense of dissatisfaction. Real anger even, and he finds himself blaming the Empire, Zakuul, even the Republic at one point for taking his mother from him. Andronikos knows how to deal with adults, can say to take leave and deal with themselves before coming back aboard. But Malcom is nearly four, and he desperately needs someone to be there for him as he figures himself out. He throws fits here and there, confused why the stars would take his mom and why no one else wanted her back but him. He struggles to try and explain that everyone else was under the impression she'd been killed by Zakuul, but Malcom doesn't want that for an answer.

Had he been any older, he was sure the boy would go stomping up to Intelligence headquarters himself and get answers that way. The kid was stubborn, just like his mother, and wouldn't take any old run around for an answer. Admirable, yes, but terrifying in practice. He's beginning to think it's a good thing he isn't force sensitive, or he and Khem would have their hands much fuller than they did already.

He finds a little cargo ship off Hutta sometime before Malcom's birthday. It's not top of the line by any means, but Andronikos isn't about to complain about it. Enough to hold him, Khem and Malcom comfortably enough. He knows somehow that he isn't sticking around Dromound Kaas much longer, doesn't plan on being tied to a single planet. Fixes it up to at least be able to fly the galaxy, give the kid a taste of the worlds beyond the Sith home. Maybe he'd find an interest in culture, like his mother did. Anything to get his mind off the memorial being his home. Anything to keep him from growing up in someone's shadow.

They celebrate his dim fourth birthday days before Zakuul attacks the Core Worlds. He'd managed a cake from a bakery nearby, had even bought a blaster he could have when he was old enough not to shoot his foot off. Dipped into his own savings for the newest model from Czerka, bright red and rapid fire. He'd been grateful, as grateful as any kid could be for something he couldn't use yet. Figured by the time he was ten, Andronikos would take the kid out somewhere in the jungle and steady his aim. Sarcastically, he reminds himself these are really things his father should've been doing with him, as much as Lexulle talked about his blasters and how well he used them. He hadn't heard much about Theron, probably because he did work in SIS, but he's beginning to see his traits in Malcom, his eyes becoming more hazel as the years wear on, his hair and just in his face as the baby fat begins to recede. A few shades lighter than Lexulle, but it's clear enough to him who's son he is.

He's just finishing repairs on the ship he comes to name the Sky Prince, a nod to his last ship and the boy who's opinions are only getting firmer by the day, when it's said ships are appearing in the atmosphere. Andronikos doesn't stick around to figure out what the hell is going on. It's nearly too late to get out of the system, but within the day he's got their meager supplies packed up and ready to leave Dromound Kaas. He heads for the Outer Rim first, correctly he guesses they're after the main worlds first. They drift for a long time, the news only growing more and more grim as the war with Zakuul wears on.

Rishi is their home for a few months. He celebrates Malcom's fifth birthday in the company of pirates, unfortunately. For that alone, he unloads a blaster and shows the kid how to aim and shoot, in case someone decides to take him as easy pickings. The kid is still missing a lot of knowledge that Andronikos wasn't able to teach him, but he knows his numbers, most Basic, some Huttese and a few phrases in ancient Sith. Knows enough to get to a market and back.  For as much as this was sprung on him, Andronikos doesn't think he's done half bad. He's more talkative than he once was, though still oddly clingy to him. The parenting holonovels he'd been recommended by the Academy are worn from front to back, and he still can't fully understand everything about kids. Novel assumes it's because he lost his mother so early on and is trying to find an emotional replacement of sorts.

The Empire and Republic fall quick to Zakuul. He doesn't know all the little military details and doesn't bother himself with getting tangled up in them again. He isn't ready to stress about that again. Other than the occasional wild animal tearing up the small house, he, Malcom and Khem manage to fall into a routine. Andronikos still keeps an eye out for any budding force sensitivity, but he doesn't bother trying to force Malcom one way or another. Once he's tall enough, he keeps the double saber on his belt with a makeshift holder. He doesn't know what the kid intends to do with it, but if it made him happy, he couldn't stop him.

Six years old is met with Zakuul tightening it's grip on the galaxy. Suddenly, Andronikos finds himself having to use old contacts and the black market for supplies again. Both Dromound Kaas and Coruscant have essentially been blockaded, so trade routes are closing down. Getting anything done becomes difficult, and there are a lot of days that Andronikos has to go hungry in order to get Malcom anything. As much as the kid tries to get him to have half of anything he's found, Andronikos can't find the willpower to. Star Fortresses go up in that same year, above Voss, Belsavis, Nar Shaddaa, Alderaan, Hoth and Tatooine. What they did, well, Bothawui very quickly answered that question. He wasn't a fan of most of the planets on that list, but he did curse for Nar Shaddaa. That planet was the key to getting much of anywhere in the galaxy, and most of the black market dried up because of it.

Seven years old is when he gets a haircut. Seven years old is the unluckiest year Andronikos has, Malcom going missing at nearly every turn. He uses a blaster for the first time, and while his aim needed to improve substantially to be much of a threat, he manages to get a buff pirate off his back. After that, Malcom isn't so brave anymore, rarely going out by himself and mostly slicing himself into a coma. Andronikos doesn't know where he picked up the skill at, but he's managed them a fair amount of money from that alone, and it keeps him out of trouble metaphorically. Credits have finally dried up, and he isn't willing to dip into Lexulle's fund just yet. They move back into the Sky Prince, and they fly under the radar for a couple months. It isn't pretty, but it's manageable for the time. Khem absentmindedly makes a request to stop somewhere with Force users, as if the small populace on Rishi wasn't enough for him. He tries not to argue with the Dashade, entirely aware of what he could do if Andronikos makes him angry enough.

Eight is when Malcom decides that he doesn't want to be there anymore. Eight is the darkest year for Malcom, almost five years after he lost his mother. He's angry at the world, angry at the whole galaxy. He's growing up, and with everything he's seen, everything he's lost, Andronikos understands. He lost his meager family, he's under the impression his real father didn't want him, and he's still grieving over the loss of his mother. Ashara's left, Xalek is gone somewhere, and the last transmission he got from Talos was a year ago. Malcom has still never referred to him directly, but the emphasis on real father gets him thinking a bit. It makes him think that maybe he does see him as a father figure. Given Andronikos doesn't want to have that conversation yet (there's a lot Andronikos doesn't want to talk about yet), but he can't hide everything from Malcom for much longer. He asks one day if he knows his father, and why he couldn't have been here for him.

That puts a hole in his heart. He wishes he could answer that, but he abides by Lexulle's last wish. If she didn't want him knowing, didn't want him on a wild goose chase, he could live with that. Malcom doesn't resent him for his lie, only making the note that he feels like he can only trust Andronikos.

That hurts. Not him, but for the fact he feels that alone that he says he's the last person in the galaxy he can trust.

He's almost nine when there's a stir about Zakuul, about the so-called Outlander being pulled out of carbonite. A week before he turns nine, he gets wind of a new Alliance being built somewhere out in the Unknown Regions. Most informants don't know much more, and he's not about to go to Acina for answers. He and Malcom don't do much for his ninth birthday, but he has his suspicions about the Outlander. The first time Andronikos hears him mention he thinks it might be Lexulle, he tries to let him down easy. He gives up for a bit, but he's stubborn enough to say it again, louder the next time as they go about their supply runs. As much as Andronikos wants to support him in that thought, he can't find any hope left to do so.

For the most times in his life, he has so many 'I don't know's to answer to him. He's clueless on this new Alliance, and Malcom is aging into someone else. Hateful, no, but he wants revenge. He's a spacer, knows the ins and outs of the black market and gets in and out of places Andronikos really doesn't want him in to begin with. But he's happier than he has been in years (maybe that's too strong of a word, the kid's never particularly happy), delving into the holonet and learning to slice and repair things. His focus isn't Lexulle anymore, it's on surviving and improving himself.

Andronikos has done it before, but when Malcom comes back with a new find for the first time, holocom lit with more zeroes than he's seen in years, he finds himself ruffling his hair and saying 'I'm proud of you'. It's not the first time, but even he can feel how much paternal love there is behind it. His hazel eyes widen, and hugs him. A toothy grin on his face as he promises more soon, he smiles himself.

He goes by Malcom Revel for a few years. Kallig wouldn't get them anywhere, is his reasoning for no longer officially using his mother's surname.

He's done an okay job. He just hopes Lexulle is proud of who her son has become. Bitterly, he wonders if Theron would be too. Where he'd be interested in getting criticism from Lexulle, he wouldn't want a word out of the SIS agent.

It's exactly twenty three ATC, late that evening when he and Malcom start their first raid on an Eternal Throne ship. A few other pirates have helped to assemble a crew, and Malcom leads them through it all, sitting upside down in the cockpit on the ceiling with zero gravity on. With how successful it is, he's beginning to think the kid might have a future in Intelligence.

He's proud as hell of him.

23 ATC. UNKNOWN REGIONS. 22:00.

Alteans, Quintessence, and spirituality - headcanons

The Alteans are a race of people who have worked their religion/spirituality into their life, including their sciences. The main general belief is that each person, creature, thing, is all connected with energy, which eventually became known as quintessence. Unlike the modern Galra, they didn't so much see this as a resource, but something inherent in each thing, and can be worked with to create amazing feats.

Quintessence comes from a space between universes, and pulled out into creatures upon creation, and can be imbued or come to exist in things and places. When it is put into a thing like this, it becomes its own unique force, mostly separate from the mass collection of which it came, although it still remains connected to the source. It can also take on forms outside of physical objects, pulled by a collective consciousness or group of ideas, given shape or form which is held by belief. Either one of these types of collected Quintessence can be wielded, as well as projected as though it had another form, like what some would call a spirit, ghost, kami, or familiar. A person’s particularly strong personal Quintessence can also take on the form of a creature, a part and aspect of their actual being given shape. It can also likewise be imbued into an object, although removing part of a living thing’s Quintessence can be just as dangerous as cutting off a digit or limb. With enough training, Quintessence can even be called upon from inside oneself or from an outside force to be used in various ways, although this practice was frowned upon as it took quintessence from its natural location and forcibly removed, thus depriving the original of part of what made it itself.

Someone touched by natural quintessence, have a natural affinity with it, or practice in using or manipulating it will gain marks on their body, which can differ based on species. This can be passed on through generations, as the children of these people are naturally disposed to be greater receptacle, although this can also be gained through exposure or use. Most Alteans, through their upbringing in their culture, generations of training, and natural affinity of quintessence have these marks under their eyes. If born without, they can be gained as normal, although generally triggered much easier, especially in the presence of natural quintessence.

Over the millennia of evolution and growth into the people that the Alteans were, there are estimated to be an innumerable amount of quintessence beings that have existed. It was theorized there might have been one for every aspect of life, idea or ideal held. Early Alteans believed in and so may have even created ancient gods, but as they grew as a species, came to understand it more, and while those ‘gods’ may no longer exist as they were, the Alteans respect for the power that each being has never truly went away. These spirits, as some call them, exist near the well of the raw natural quintessence, but able to maintain their own form, and view and even possibly enter to the Physical, although normally this is not visible to most people, or they can barely do anything other than exist. Stronger beings usually are able to do more.

The science of Alchemy on Altea is the ultimate form of science and quintessence together. When it was believed they were ready, the original practitioners were led by some of the mightiest quintessence beings to Oriande, a thin spot in reality and where spirits gathered freely, and shown how both physical and spiritual could truly be put together. Technology that responded with thought, or could connect with people in a way that allowed them to act as one, or change forms as needed, responding to the user. Religious figures became scientists, and life on Altea became a center of innovations and industry. 

The most well known and still existing technology that exists is obviously Voltron, and to a lesser extent the Caste of Lions. 

While the Castle was a bit less technologically reliant on Alchemy compared to Voltron, its main controls can be interacted with through Quintessence manipulation. Due to its age and housing the sleeping Allura and Corran for 10,000 years, the castle's quintessence itself has grown quite powerful, and is one of the oldest, strongest pieces of Alchemy that still exists. It was powerful enough so that it has created four physical manifestations, each with their own life, that it uses to interact with the world, as small mice. Even after it's destruction, the castle's mice still remained, for while all that existed that a crystal, the spirit still remained. Allura, having been of a greater wealth and connection with the castle’s quintessence because of her father, was able to even gain a psychic relationship with them, much like the lions with their pilots. A connection like this can also be manufactured as a connection with quintessence beings or the quintessence in an object or person, as Alfor did with Allura and the Lions before she was sealed in the Castle, although this would only have limited uses and not as strong as a natural connection. 

The Lions themselves, are not forms given life. With Alfor's work, five of the greatest quintessence beings which represent each of the 5 Altean elements were given a physical form. Each Lion is in fact a great sacred beast that has long watched over the Alteans and the universe. Sensing a great time coming where they were needed to protect those that they have come to watch over, they came together and created a comet. Launching it from deep in the quintessence well, they threw themselves out, and was able to land on Daibazaal. A small portion was placed into the bayards that each of the paladins use, to allow for greater connectivity with the Paladins, as well to allow the spirits to travel where their new giant forms did not allow. A similar event happened after the destruction of the Castle of Lions, it's spirit also allowed itself to be fused into a form, this time with the Earth ship Atlas.

Much like the castle, any quintessence grouping can survive after its destruction. In the case of people, their spiritual form combines on death, and they continue to exist, much as humans see ghosts, or the Galra have their ancestors (see previous headcanon on Galra holiday). They generally stay around if their emotions were strong enough to maintain their Quintessence from being drawn back again, following after a family lineage, or being dedicated to an ideal, person, place or being driven to remain for one reason or another. Once they're satisfied, their quintessence merges with the background of the universe, and to be reborn. Of course this last part happens if they’re tied or fused into a physical object to hold themselves. 

The Blades of Marmora were actually taught a small fraction of alchemy, which they guard to death greater than any of the secrets that they gather. In the final days of the Alteans, there were sympathetic Galra that hid the few remaining ones away to try and keep them safe, and stand against Zarkon's horribly militaristic control. One of these final Alteans, one who managed to survive a little while after the destruction of Altea, showed the Blades how to call upon a quintessence being, and fuse them into a weapon. Most Galra who do so have an ancestor which they request, to join with them in their fight against the perversion of the Galra. Using a metal that highly resonates with Quintessence beings, they are formed into the namesake Blades. This is why they are only usable by Galra descendants, as the ancestors inside can sense their deep connection.

The rift created by the fallen comet that was created by the lions arrival sparked much interest by Alchemists. It was a hole deep into the raw quintessence that makes up the area between mutliverses. With a joint investigation between Altean and Galra, they learned ways of harvesting and refining quintessence, as well as other source from inside their own universe. Great scientific advances were found, and allowed for a great prospering of both nations. Previous access to Quintessence had been localized to crystallized form created by the Balmeras and other similar creatures, which was usually a lengthy procedure that required sacrifice and ritual, or a lot of effort to mine

Unfortunately, exposure to and the absorbing of raw quintessence directly from the source causes major degradation in a person. Their own personal quintessence, which since birth has became its own being and different than the rest of the universe, doesn't hold itself when exposed, and will be worn away like sand against a current. Only the greatest of a person's emotions and desires can hold onto it's form, blasting away anything else that might exist in a person. This affects a person on all levels.

Deep inside the rift though, there weren't just benevolent or kind creations. As with any being in the universe, there can be malicious and malevolent thoughts, ideas and ways of life. These also exist deep in the quintessence well, and were drawn towards the bore hole. Trying to reach through, they attacked as soon as they were free, and eventually caused Voltron to seal the breach.

The discovery of refining quintessence allows for its use in many things. By stripping quintessence from its form (a person, place, or thing), it can be stripped of the uniqueness that makes up whatever it was pulled from, and moved to containers, to be used in many things, including ship engines. It even has the ability to be used in the medical field, as the raw quintessence seeps into a person or being, and allows their physical body to grow stronger or heal faster. Unfortunately, refined quintessence can also be used as a drug, as it can remove or replace parts of a person, much like raw quintessence. (See headcanon about Galra Quintessence)

With the destruction of most Alteans, and being bathed in the deepest parts of Quintessence, Haggar/Honerva learned of the ancient and previously taboo ways to manipulate it. Gathering a group of specially touched Galra, some that might have distant Altean ancestry, she started to train and create the druids of the Galra Empire. She taught them ways to wield these magics to cause the spread of fear across space.

After the guardian spirits that eventually were placed into the lions had launched themselves from the well of Quintessence, other spirits or beings started to have the same idea. Fortunately, this required a great amount of power that even the strongest being could not pull together to form out of nothing, so there was no risk of any fleeing without purpose. There was a small group though, that did have a purpose and a means. All sentient life has some sense of curiosity in them, and most if not all gain some kind of urge to explore or discover what is just around the corner, either locally or galactically. The beings of these came together, and set out to do exactly that. They threw themselves not just into space, but through spaces. To pass through and experience a wide range of universes. 

Unfortunately, one of these were also sought and bound by another living being, Lotor. Having studied any and all information on the Alteans, he recognized the possibilities with this comet, and harvested it to create his own ship. Built with 10,000 years additional technology from his Galra ancestry, and what he had learned, Lotor made a creation and enslaved a creation that could even challenge Voltron. Whether he was fully aware of what he was doing, is still unknown.

Complete List of My Characters: With Snippits **EDITED**

Hood- Johnathan Satlin, the universe Guardian. Lazy, married to Liz Wright

Liz Wright- Wife to Hood, ultimate Mom with a control over fire and a ghost body guard

Aaron Nitishino- Number 42, The God Killer, adorably fluffy, married to Beth Wright

Beth Wright: Aaron’s wife, will kick your ass, adorable with a kind personality. Will gladly fight for her husband

Tiggs Nitishino: Aaron’s cousin. 9 foot tall black and silver four armed tiger man. Total mad scientist.

Jasmine Nitishino: Aaron’s cousin. Shapeshifter, lynx lady, pan, will stab you and flirt with you in the same minute

Pinstripe: Mafia Hit man possessed by ancient assassin god

Sheriff Waters: wild west sherriff and time displaced Pinstripe.

Sheriff McCreed: immortal western zombie sheriff, total nonchalant asshole.

Deputy Colt 45: super futuristic robot sent to the wild west. Deputy to Waters and McCreed.

Guilty’s Gang: Guilty, Thomas Ralz the pianist, and old man Joe the banjoist. And their swamp monster.

Scorpio: bandito given powers by the zodiac spirit scorpio,

Cheif Kitchi: Blackfoot indian chief.

Vessal: bronze golum, protecter of Kitchi’s tribe, host to hundreds of warrior spirits.

Argon and Neon: nova kids trapped in the Wildwest, brother and sister.

Nobilis Krypton: Anodyne, roman themed, trapped in wildwest with Argon and Neon

Stephan and Justin Wright: Little Brothers to Hood and Aaron respectively. Adopted by Tracey Wright and Hail Tartalgia. The bridges to the multiverse. Cinnamon roll and sin-namon rolls.

Tracey Wright: Hail’s wife and the mother to Justin and Stephan, tired of everyone’s shit and the power over darkness.

Hail Tartalgia: Second Youngest of the Tartalgia family. Shy, ice powers, twin brother to Zana, cinnamon roll. Married to Tracey Wright.

Lightening Tartalgia: youngest Tartalgia, power over energy, super speed. Energetic, outgoing, friendly.

Fog Tartalgia: Middle child of Tartalgia family, twin brother to Storm. Power over all gasses and vapors. Quiet, kind, wise.

Storm Tartalgia: Middle Child of Tartalgia family, twin brother to Fog. Power over weather. Loud, arrogant, secretly a cinnamon roll.

Kujo: Second oldest of Tartalgia family, twin brother to Zoey. Blunt, dry, helpful. Can know everything about an item  by touching it, and will know expertly how to use it.

Zana: Second youngest of Tartalgia family, twin sister to Hail, power over water and liquids, equally as shy as Hail if not more so.

Zoey: Second oldest of Tartalgia family, twin sister of Kujo, control over plants and animals. Mischievous and naughty, but still someone to trust.

Hero: eldest of Tartalgia family. Power of adapting to any situation (nearly infinite powers). Outgoing, positive, conceited, loves himself.

Pops: Possibly immortal old man, Looks like 60, but is as healthy as a 30 year old. Street brawler, travels with Launa.

Launa Dandies: Descendant of Waters. Can’t be harmed. Sociopath, angry at everything.

Taurus: Minotaur like being, greatest enemy is Hood, wants to envelop the world in eternal night.

Number43: almost clone of Aaron. An attempt to repeat the success that is Aaron in making ultimate weapon.

Grave Digger: older than time, is death, grim reaper, and the grave all at once. Always drinking.

Arnold: The Graveyard Cat. Zombie cat with the power of decay. Experiment of 100 Project

Ronny: The hellhound, control over darkness and fire. Experiment of 100 project

Damian: Giant Golden Flying Fox, A big ass fruit bat. Kind, gentle, not sure where he is. Clings to Digger

Marty: a mothman, silent, thinking, will fight you.

Vet: time traveling immortal redneck doctor getting into shenanigans

Uncle Sam: ultra patriotic American bald eagle robot. Made by vet

DJ Giz: super sleek robot covered in speakers. Makes noise. Made by vet

Livewire: robot with tendrils coming from his back. not made by vet but saved by him

SARAH: vets body guard. Ultimate fighting robot girl. Very curious about the world and open to learn.

Leao: Wizard cat!

Farmer John Stidham: first of Shattered Six, hard working, blunt farmer

Don Lomas: Second of Shattered Six, mob boss, mysterious, dangerous.

Poindexter Carter: third of Shattered Six, genius, scientist, nerd

Smiley Joe Stidham: fourth of Shattered Six, mixer, dancer, happy.

Dr Dean Lomas: fifth of Shattered Six, doctor, muscular, pretty boy

Agent Carter: Sixth of Shattered Six, agent, fighter, dangerous.

The Fivefold: The Pastor, Prophet, Evangelist, Teacher, and Apostle.

The Big Three: The three who made everything, Austin, Chance, and Fernando.

Curly Satlin: Giant lumberjack with bigger afro. Works for Don and Brigitta Vigarin.

Kristopher Krins: towns person of Keypers Cove, might be santa, definitely Santa, necklace is two candy canes which he uses when fighting.

Galve: flaming skeleton goat man in a robe, comes out from November to February.

Sir Issac Wells: real name of Johnny Rockers. Large bulky man, from Arkansas, used some enhanced cocaine, permanent other personality emerged, sophisticated man of class, still an absolute psychopathic serial killer.

Mr. Hicks: Henry Hicks, CEO of large tech company, travels the world joining fighting tournaments, boxer.

Lord Harlston: Victorian era gentlemen revived as a half plant, half zombie, very kind and polite. Hates rude un-gentlemanly people.

Pedro Gonzalez: former CEO, current Hero of Mexico, very strong boxer, rival to Mr. Hicks.

The Matador: Alfonzo Rivera, fighter, uses a sword and two bull fighting spears.

Wechidna: Immortal butler and warrior, butler to Mr. Hicks, neighbor to Tracey Wright.

Ashura: Ghost of formally immortal warrior, bonded to Liz Wright

Foxcrest: perfect maid

Wolfthorn: perfect Butler

Hawkridge: Perfect butler,

Ursa: Tigg’s main maid. Super strong

Lea: Tiggs’ main gardener. Mastered every last known martial art

Shaun-Li: Tigg’s cheff, poison touch.

Pastor Smith and Juddeep: World traveling Southern Pastor and his Saudi Arabian friend/ex-airport security guard.

Romulin: Son of Anubis, permanent rival to Uncle Sam

Valz: Greek titan of love, passion, erotic pleasure, and drinks.

Issac: Son of Hood, inherited all his powers.

Tommie: Daughter of Aaron, inherited all his powers (and looks)

Tedd: living teddy bear, adopted by Hood.

Ishmael: ancient warrior and shaman. Rival and big brother figure to Issac

The Mesh: large, jumbled robot, created by a deceased boy genius, roams the world looking for a new owner.

Abra: Alternate pinstripe, unknown female who’s theme is magician.

Ringmaster: Circus ringmaster with reality altering abilities

Chuckles: Alternate pinstripe, unknown female who’s theme is clown.

Ragdoll: Hood from a forgotten universe, a patchwork ragdoll like being of pure evil.

Snap: the alpha hood, the original who snapped upon seeing the multitude of various deaths.

Corruption: alternate Aaron. Put on Hood’s sweater, old programming resurfaced, Went crazy.

The Pinstripe Corps: multidimensional assassin group of alternate Pinstripe’s

The OFFKeys: a group of six musicians from Keypers Cove, each represents a different music genre

The entire town of Keypers Cove: hoh boy. Their necklaces has powers

Thunder and Zora Tartaliga: Parents of the Tartalgia Family and founders of Tartalgia.

Ultra42: Alternate Aaron, true ultimate weapon

Omega42: Zombie Ultra, mindless animal, afterwards a depressed former hero.

Aaron+: alternate aaron, controlled with nanites, killer.

Amalgam: an amalgamate of Pinstripe, Fatality, Legion, Patient Doe, Mr Thompson, Scorpio, from a computer world.

Scrap: all of Vet’s robots, mashed into one, torn to shreds by Aaron+ individually before reforming and killing him.

Virus: Vet’s true opposite. Body is home to every last disease, fungus, and bacteria in the universe, complete control over all disease.

Schism: the true embodiment of chaos and order. True equality. A god pretty much.

EL: The elemental. Splits into six main elements, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Machine, Nature, Light and Dark. Then they fuse into four sub elements. Fire and Water make Energy. Air and Earth make Decay. Nature and Machine make Time. And Light and Dark make order. Then they fuse to make two. Time and Decay make Death. Order and Energy make life. El, the final fusion, is the element of Humanity

Error53: a mix of science and magic, a demonic computer virus.

El guillao: Puerto Rican Gansgter, uses soul flame and machetes.

Fatality: embodiment of fear, true monster.

Legion: former youth pastor turned host to millions of demons.

Train Man: Wildwest Zombie, enforcer of death, rounds up souls Digger doesn’t feel like finding.

Dr. Isotope: former Cold War Scientist, imbued with the power of ten atoms bombs

Xalarn: flaming spikey skeleton man, makes more flaming skeletons for army.

Damian Weaver: form an alternate universe, survivor of zombie apocalypse. Thinks he is edgy, is not edgy,

Justin Carter: from the same forgotten world as Ragdoll. Another patchwork ragdoll man, with a flaming chainsaw for a hand, a hero.

Patient Doe: unknown. A patchwork person trying to make themselves the perfect body, might be alien, no facts known.

Mr. Thompson: really friendly serial killer, animals love him, everyone loves him, everyone knows hes a killer too.

Silver Heart: given a robotic heart that replaces all damaged parts with robotics.

Bob: robot from the future meant to be sent to 1950’s America. Sent to modern America. Typical 1950’s dad but is actually killer liquid metal robot.

Rex: very large man with brain of hyper intelligent dog. Loyal, works with a pirate, but always dressed in a suit.

Leon: demon lion man. Crazy, violent, evil

Captain Longbeard and Shiv: Pirates. Longbeard is very intelligent, pilots a ship from the far future, Shiv is his malfunctioning robot fighter/first mate.  

Clove: Skeleton Wildwest gun for hire. Known as the Gunslinger.

Beryl and Obsidian: Gem people. Servants for the Gods.

DOTcom: a program and nanite cloud created by Vet, pilots his TAURTOS.

Talli and Mingan: Talli cant die, Mingan is his giant grey dire wolf who is the real brains of the duo.

Blachidna: Alternate version of Wechidna, evil, arrogant, ruler of planet of factories.

Employee18: leader of worker revolution against Blachinda, favorite weapon :picaxe

Ashuraos: alternate Ashura, driven mad with power, being of pure chaos, body is half liquid energy

The Lounge Singers: 1920′s era smokey ball room band, actually hitmen, Ricky, Big Al, Betty, and Li.

Lukas Muler: Swiss cowboy living in Treasure Canyon. Earth bending powers, loves rocks.

Kopano Pillay: South African mercenary, true soldier, gun for hire.

Malware: a corrupted, computer virus infected Justin, wants to recreate his family using the glitches.

Trojan: a corrupted, computer virus infected Stephan. Wants to make Justin fix their world then kill him, willing to destroy whatever stands in his way.

The Televnagelist: former big name preacher turned serial killer.

The FRESHfold: the fivefold, but Fresh.

Vetster: Vet and Gaster merged together.

Aroodamate: Hood and Aaron, amalgamated

Civilian: mysterious unknown vigilante, no powers.

Galaxes: angelic being made of red space dust and stars, watcher of the world

The Four Angels: A Roman Centurion, a Holy Knight, A Western Sheriff, and a US WWII Soldier. Angels, and patron guardians of The Fivefold

El Monstruo: Mexican Super Villain, villain to Pedro Gonzalez. Basic super powers of super strength and speed. Only wants to bring Mexico to World power status, going about it very wrong.

Cowl: Underfell Aaron

Cloak: Underfell Hood

Charger/Camaro/Mustang: super soldiers made by Group 100 project, large, strong, hate Aaron.

Moses Shamalyan: the Great Devastator, Aaron’s rival, dog man.

Golgatha: parasite, cannibal, mercenary, master chef.

Y’All: parasite that turns people into hillbilly’s

Thomas Burgens: crazed pizza place owner with an army of killers and animatronic suit.

Retro: pixelated knight traveling the world

Fenrif: Old Norse God living as a cowboy in Montana

Mabel Brown: wizard cowgirl, alchemizes her own bullets, each being a different spells.

Rodrick Black: magician, bank robber. Enemy of Hood. Possible real magic? unconfirmed.

Gabriel: angel made of rusted scrap metal, joins Retro on his adventures.

Agent Tell: Government agent infected by alien millipede parasite. Covered in spikes, has flame thrower.

Agarom: former hero, turned demon, back to hero.

LUCAS: comes from the same world as Retro. A humanoid figure made from a random assortment of different sized and colored pixels. Friendly, wants to help.

Emmanuel Rodriguez: Mexican assassin with an affinity for throwing knives.

The Untracables: Robert Gonzales and Shaun Findly, hitman contractor and loser turned killer duo.

Vinny: a business man infected by a parasitic lily that has taken over his body with vines.

Ausham: ego of darkness, creativity, and passion

Chanter: ego of emotions, morality, and love

Eclecious: ego of logic, spirituality, and intelligence

Parsure: ego of depression, anxiety, and writers block

Glossy: ego of encouragement, ambition, and responsibilities

Blake: ego of neutrality, boredom, and disinterest.

Cole: ego of mischief, rage, and hatred

Dull; ego of distraction, absent mindedness, and randomness

Author: ego of humor, nostalgia, and regret.

Buddy Lilly: Ego of music, talents, and boldness

Staliel: Ferns Guardian Angel. Nervous train wreck

JM Drew: former cartoon studio owner turned inky psychopath

Dr Alexander: former life of Ausham, dangerous surgeon and assassin

Chanzer: a twisted corrupted Chanter

Plush: a felt plush filled apex predator

Ratio: TV head in charge of directing messages and asks to the egos and other characters.

Publisher: anthropomorphic cat man made of stars and darkness, lives in the thrift shop.

Officer Lupe Rodriguez: a normal lapd officer who has an instant healing factor making her invincible.

Oasis: a being made of sand that wanders the Mojave desert.

Glitch Angel: A humanoid being made of multicolored corrupted pixels with two large pixel wings.

Black Bishop: mysterious man in a black hooded robe with a staff shaped like a bishop chess peace that can pierce any material and summon minions made of that material. Actually an absolute dork.

Magra: bishops main general. Flaming jackolantern head on a titanium and gold body with vines, hot plasma, and liquid energy wrapped around his body. Also an absolute dork.

FINISHING LINE PRESS BOOK OF THE DAY: Earlier Heaven by Elisabeth Farrell $14.99, paper https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/earlier-heaven-by-elisabeth-farrell/ Elisabeth Farrell lives with her husband and daughter in southern Maine. She received her Master of Fine Arts degree from Bennington College, where she was a Jane Kenyon scholar. Her poems have appeared in journals including North American Review, The Fourth River, Literary Mama, The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Who is this happy family, this earlier heaven? In this collection, Farrell insists that it’s not just our immediate relations, living and dead, and our interconnectedness with pines, turtles, mill workers, ancestors, ghosts—but also our dreams as they push up against reality. Reading these poems, we fuse with the natural world: a rotted tree, an empty womb; a maple leaf, a hand with “indecipherable lines;” beets, “a clump/of hearts buried.” Hollow-bone delicate, yet distilled and strong, these poems will stay with you and shine “like bones tossed into blackness/for a dog too lazy to fetch.” –Kendra Tanacea, author of A Filament Burns in Blue Degrees RESERVE YOUR COPY TODAY PREORDER SHIPS JULY 20, 2018 https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/earlier-heaven-by-elisabeth-farrell/ #poetry

It’s been a couple months since the first volume of Listen to These., Recommended Listen’s relatively new album catch-up series, but let’s just preface it by saying this: Volume II isn’t even the half of it of new music that’s worth your listen if you haven’t already made space in your life for them. There’s more words to come hopefully sooner rather than later on that. As always, if you’ve missed any of the most recent full album reviews, catch up with those over here.

Armand Hammer - Shrines [Self-released]

Underground NYC hip-hop vets Armand Hammer -- the duo of billy wood and Elucid -- are back to worship at the alter of our new age dystopia with their fourth album Shrines. The listen is a style clash fete of trippy beats and lush, wavering loops that have the power to distort our view, in a sunken spiritual journey but never ceases to see the reality of our broken culture, societal ills, and false gods within our political systems as they truly are. On this outing, they’re also joined by the likes of Earl Sweatshirt, Moor Mother, R.A.P. Ferreira, and Quell Chris who pop in like true supporting cast members for what is otherwise an ensemble display of art rap with a timely statement of purpose.

Shrines by Armand Hammer

Deerhoof - Future Teenage Cave Artists [Joyful Noise Recordings]

Deerhoof have been at it for over 25 years at this point, and yet, album after album from the revered experimental rock outfit revels in the present moment and their own inimitable ability to mirror the events of the outside world through their projection of sound. With their fifteenth studio effort Future Teenage Cave Artists, the band have created a listen filled with sardonic joy fit for the end of everything that is worth anything in this world: culture, society, and the very Earth we walk. Satomi Matsuzaki’s vocals dance on the ashes of our decaying lifestyle as the music behind her ushers in the apocalypse. Like the Titanic band playing as the ship goes down, Deerhoof persist in creating so that when everthing goes black, at least they can say that their joy as an act of resistance put up a good fight.

Future Teenage Cave Artists by Deerhoof

Dougie Poole - The Freelancer’s Blues [Wharf Cat Records]

The Freelancer’s Blues resolves the question of what would happen if country music was centered in the backdrop of Brooklyn’s DIY scene, as Dougie Poole’s breakout sophomore effort fuses traditionalist songwriting with the stardust of experimental pop influences. Between his cosmic country aesthetic are stories that are also timely in their arrival as well, as Poole’s cowboy croon centers on a post-millennial malaise with life in being stuck in place by way of the cost of living’s bottom dollar, capitalism’s drain on the soul, or hard work getting swept under the rug. Poole’s dry humor on the matter makes these melancholic country songs go down easy like comfort food -- even if it doesn’t quite taste like your usual southern cooking.

The Freelancer's Blues by Dougie Poole

DRAIN - California Cursed [Revolution Records]

Santa Cruz thrashers DRAIN have been seething to make their official first move in the hardcore scene since amassing a cult following within its DIY circles and becoming fest highlights over the last few years. Their debut full-length for venerable hardcore label Revolution Records does no hold back on that feeding frenzy. Rattling influence of NYC hardcore as well as a high voltage metallic intensity, California Cursed is a filthy homage to their home state that chomps with disgust and reckoning for its polluted air and water. Frontperson Sam Ciaramitaro’s sneering performance ups the confrontation with a tidal wave of chaos backs up his audacity. Washed ashore at its end, you won’t know what hit you.

California Cursed by DRAIN

KeiyaA - Forever, Ya Girl [Self-released]

Much of hip-hop and R&B lately has benefited from creatives thinking outside the mainstream trajectory, and one of the latest promising signs comes from NYC-by-way-of-Chicago singer, producer and multi-instrumental triple threat KeiyaA on her debut album Forever, Ya Girl. The 15-track listen pieces together broken relationships and self-empowerment through a kaleidoscope of sound fusion blurring the colors of modern beatmaking (occasionally assisted by fellow underground rapper MIKE’s DJ Blackpower alter ego) into psychedelic transformations, funk deconstructed, and samples of TV commercials. It plays out like a scrapbook of all the voices you heard running your head yesterday and working hard to hear yours alone to come a far way, Through it, KeiyaA keeps her identity to herself in both style and knowing thyself.

Forever, Ya Girl by KeiyaA

No Age - Goons Be Gone [Drag City]

Goons Be Gone is the fifth proper full-length effort (sixth if you count 2007′s early singles comp Weirdo Rippers) from Los Angeles DIY noise pop scene heroes No Age, and it shows no signs of fatigue from the duo in shape-shifting their aesthetic. Like much of the sounds created by guitarist Randy Randall and drummer Dean Spunt, Goons Be Gone feels like a disorienting fever dream caught somewhere between a memory and the blinkering effects of our modern day calamity. In this instance, the differences are granular -- be it the amount of space left between tape loops or how much fuel they push behind each pedal -- and yet, it continues to make all the difference in No Age’s sonic spin in modern punk art.

Goons Be Gone by No Age

OHMME - Fantasize Your Ghost [Joyful Noise Recodings]

The sophomore effort from buzzworthy Chicago art rock duo OHMME is about finding your way home when you’ve so spent so many of your days living away from it. Fantasize Your Ghost certainly contains an endless appreciation for unpredictable detours and roads less traveled along the way, and that guitarists Sima Cunningham and Macie Stewart are comfortable mapping their own route that oft falls off the grid is what makes the album a thrill ride. Throughout, the pair’s vocals consume an aerodynamic free will as well as constant control, and the energy they create from their collective creativity presents possibility in several forms. Gliding pop can just as easily bend into rock ornations, leaving the idea of home to be wherever it is you can make the space your own.

Fantasize Your Ghost by OHMME

Sparta - Trust the River [Dine Alone Records]

It’s been 14 years since Sparta -- the post-At the Drive-In hardcore vehicle of primary songwriter Jim Ward -- to reemerge. Between the band’s 2006 effort Threes and their return in Trust the River, Ward has ventured off the beaten path with his songwriting by delving into folk and indie rock with his other projects under his own name and the band Sleepercar, respectively, and some of those homegrown hints have seeped into Sparta’s atmosphere on what is a fitting return to ground-level after gravitating far above the horizon for so long in the band’s early catalog. Trust the River communicates with these times’ politics as well as the complexities of our own personal relationships in that way where Sparta’s roughened melancholia can feel like a faded picture. This time, it’s easier to see the faces from down here on Earth.

Trust The River by Sparta

Truth Cult - Off Fire [Pop Wig Records]

Truth Cult is breaking out of the Baltimore hardcore scene with their debut full-length Off Fire, released fittingly on local scene label Pop Wig Records (the label ran by members of Turnstile and Angel Du$t.) Its membership is familiar with spaces that form pits, as it collects members of Give, Pure Disgust, and Red Death, and their sound touches on the gruff post-hardcore rumblings of its surrounding environment. For context, they’ve opened for Lifetime, and have a very Dan Yemin-like energy to their sound that deadlifts a weight similar to what Paint It Black and Open City are throwing down. Off Fire is similarly politicized and swings hard, but that takes nothing away from the melodic gravity of the LP in a way that hears Truth Cult’s sound living up to the elements of its title.

Off Fire by Truth Cult

Westside Gunn - Pray for Paris [Griselda Records]

The Griselda Records collective continues its ascent with the diamond in founding member Westside Gunn’s crown on this moment, his building coronation ceremony Pray for Paris. Featuring his Griselda family members Conway the Machine and Benny the Butcher as well as production from Alchemist and Tyler, the Creator, Pray for Paris scales the fine line between an elaborate hip-hop opus and the the art house aesthetic burgeoning throughout rap’s current underground. In a sense, this is also the best album about pro-wrestling ever made, as Westside Gunn loops in iconic promos to compliment his own flex. Truly, he’s on the path to becoming the showstopper.