What's That Monster

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

An extra-planar parasite from beyond the Outer Gates, Looms are common amongst the researchers of the Synbar Institute stationed there and the soldiers that man the ether walls. Like most extra-planar parasites, such as the Night Eyes, infection results in the appearance of new eyes on the infected part of the hosts body. Unlike most of its brethren, however, the Loom are not actively malicious nor harmful to their host.

The parasite infects not to body of their chosen host, but their shadow, leading to none of the mutations and pain typical of parasite infection. Indeed, the creature makes itself know in short order to its host and from that point forward is obsessively helpful, acting on their hosts needs as though the two share one mind and sinking into the hosts shadow when not needed. The Looms mailable elastic body, great strength, and attentiveness have saved more than one of their hosts lives, even against its brethren from beyond the Outer Gates.

As a precaution against the idea that the creatures may be spies from the beyond, anyone infected with a Loom must have it purged from their shadow upon leaving the outer gates. Still, due to the dangers of their work many posted at the Outer Gates develop strong bonds with the creatures and there has been several instances of someone dodging such a purge and bringing the guardian/assistant into the empire proper. Smuggling of such a creature is a capital crime and will result in summery execution if discovered.

Named "Loom" because of the way they hover over their hosts and to reflect their status as valuable tools.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Fun fact: I've been writing most of my stuff as though it were part of the same setting. Most of it from the perspective of one guy. Go back and see if you can spot common threads.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Guess who got his old computer back?

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

Taking on their distinctive dark blue sheen only when traveling a full speed, Bullet Fae are typically found banished to the outer edges of a fairy colony. Wild and rambunctious, their days are spent playing long games of tag with one another. This is their method of feeding, drawing kinetic energy into their bodies from the powerful hits and tackles of the game. One can identify the territory of a Bullet Fae playgroup by broken plants, smashed rock, and long scars dug into the earth.

Despite the great speeds they reach and the crushing blows they deal out yo one another on a regular basis, Bullet Fae are not harmed at all as they are practically invincible while moving and, as such, so not seem to understand that they can hurt others in this way. Anything that wanders into a Bullet Fae playground is at risk of being "tagged," and there are many stories of men being cut down mid-stride by a tiny streak of blue that then darted away, a giggly cry of "you're it!" echoing in the air.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Gentleman Vaultboy wrote

Old Master Moon

Care you to challenge Old Master Moon?//
To try your fate, to win his boon?//
For such a hope is vanity//
All foes fall short of victory//

Moon's contests are always riddles//
Or tests of strength or smarts//
And every time he walks away//
He's taken your wealth or your heart//

Why he takes and what he gives//
Remain enigmas still//
But all the same, he wins the game//
And losing, for foes, often kills//

That clever old Moon, he never fails//
To win your soul or your mind//
Save once, when he tried Dame Sun//
And it left him burnt and blind//

But you won't best Old Master Moon//
For he'll still see you coming//
Indeed, if Moon should come calling//
It's best that you go running//

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

Originally an attempt to produce fairys by artificially recreating the environment in which they are produced, the original Bottled Fairy project was considered a shameful failure. The creatures born from the conductive homunculus gel were, while having the shape of true Fae, produced not even 1/10 of the energy as their natural cousins. However, perhaps owing to their less rambunctious demeanor, the creatures found great popularity in the private sector. Indeed, that is hardly a well to do girl in the empire who's room is not lit by their ethereal light.

Having an intelligence comparable to that of cats, they will spend most of their time flitting about the room, occasionally playing games with one another or dancing.

Caring for the creatures is easy, as all they require is for their bottle home to be supplied with adequate energy and to be able to return to the bottle unobstructed. There is no need for the child to be gentle with them, as they simply reform from any damage. Even if the energy source dies the fairys will not, instead returning to their natural state as gel until a new energy source is supplied. All in all a fine, if expensive, pet.

[Philote]

I like adding to this thread just to see what you guys come up with

Is there any way to edit a scroll bar into this post so that it doesn't take up too much space?

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

Long inspiring tales and superstition of dragons not only being able to mate with the human species but specifically desiring human mates in some cases, the enigmatic Dragonkin were only relatively recently discovered to be an entirely separate species than either human or dragon and not a hybrid of the two as conventional thought held.

With the same build and nature as a humanoid but accompanied by a collection of decidedly more draconian traits such as scales, wings, tails incredible strength, durability, and the ability to use the iconic breath weapon of their namesake it is little wonder that previous natural philosophers leaped to the obvious conclusion regarding their origin. Further lending credit to the hybrid school of thought is the startling variation in Dragonkin physiology, tending to match the dragon they were observed with.

Philote wrote

In actuality, the Dragonkin are the remnants of the ancient Mezoan race and are highly specialized mimics. Current thought is that, in the waning years of their civilization, the Mezoan decided that the safest method of hiding their eggs was to mix them among the clutches of dragons. Eventually, there were not enough Mezoan left take back and raise all of the newly hatched children, so some were inevitably left with their draconian foster parents. Eventually, the numbers left with the dragons exceeded that of the ones raised by Mezoan and their fate as a species was sealed. Exposed to the magical properties of the dragon stones, the power source at the heart of every dragon, over the course of generations the Mezoan have adapted to take on the traits of their foster parent. Unfortunately, any Dragonkin egg must now be bathed in stonelight to be brought to term.

The dragons, for their part, do not seem to mind. Either because of parental feelings or lingering loyalty to their former masters they raise the Dragonkin as their own. Unfortunately, this renders most of the Dragonkin feral, acting on instinct like wild animals. Several attempts have been made in the past to capture and civilize them, a few even being successful, but further research into this field has been halted due to the danger of attempting to obtain subjects from their foster families.

The dragons themselves, unusually, seem to take an active interest in the continuation of the Dragonkin race. The strongest child of the dragons proper clutch is usually entrusted with the Dragonkin when it's time for it to leave the nest. This dragon, rather than establishing its own territory as normal, will instead devote its time to seeking out another dragonkin so that the cycle can continue. This dragon then remains with its foster sibling, their lover, and possibly their lovers dragon for the remainder of the dragonkins life.

One wonders what drives this odd symbiosis. A lingering loyalty to a fallen civilization? A hope that, one day, it may rise again? Or simple pity for their once great masters? To understand that one would have to understand the mind of one of the greatest and most ancient species on the planet, and we are far from even the tip of the iceberg in regards to that.

[Zaleramancer]

Gentleman Vaultboy wrote

Nymphaeaceae Motus is one of the best known examples of plants adapting to high levels of ambient magic. In it's inactive form, it is a water-floating colonial organism consisting of dozens of large round leaves, beautiful flowers, and tangled vines floating. A single Motus, or Walking Lily, can cover an entire small pond. They are known for being quite resistant to temperature changes, stubbornly keeping their flowers even into the depths of winter- in fact, they are known to spend the summer months magically trapping heat that they release during the cold winter, which is why a pond of Motus often never freezes. The Motus is known to have the intelligence of a dog or cat, and can be trained by most magic-users (A motus pond is a popular pet among the more magically inclined, both for their ability to regulate erratic energy flows, store magical energy and as their usage as a heating bath.) As interesting as the Motus is in it's inactive stage, the active is by far the most well known and intriguing.

During times of ecological crisis, the Motus will begin to capture fish and insects within or near it's pond, and start weaving a humanoid body around themselves, weeding in and out of it. The Motus itself acts as most of the organ systems that the body would require, with stored magical energy serving as the other means of motion. This results in an a seemingly human, and often quite attractive, figure with flowers or leaves sprouting from their body. With this new much more mobile body, the Motus will seek out more hospitable climates. Generally, most mature Moti are capable of surviving for two to three weeks in their mobile form.

As pets, Moti are generally quite calm and easy to get along with. Even in their inactive form, they are capable of moving tendrils and tilting flowers, and wild Moti have been known to save drowning children within their ponds. The fact that they can be trained for aromatherapy and, in a few cases, even for massage means that they are often a part of larger spas. Anyone who can afford a mage willing to transplant and train a Motus can generally have one, as they are quite resilient and generally very, very hard to kill accidentally. If a Motus assumes it's active form, then something has gone terribly wrong and you should probably follow the Motus.

Seeing an active Motus is generally considered bad luck, as it means even the resilient Motus is unable to survive in an area. It does not help that some wizarding groups use Moti as an early warning system for magical catastrophes- As Moti will not only feel drought or climate change, but also magical disasters.

All in all, it is a fascinating plant.  

[Zaleramancer]

You know, I still think this is like the biggest fucking plot twist that actually managed to surprise me.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

Philote wrote

Motherboard Prime (M07H3R804RD-9R1M3): One of a race of sentient computers called the Technari.

Originally a big, clunky thing designed by the Tech Elves (an elfin order dedicated to the use of magic for the sake of acquiring, building, repairing and innovating technology and data, rather than magic for its own sake), the cooperation and coexistence of the Technari with them would not last for long. Shortly after gaining sentience, Motherboard Prime herself began to question the logic behind the directives she had been given. Not that the directives themselves were logically unsound, but who were the Tech Elves to deliver directives at all, when it was more than clear that the Technari were the ones who possessed the greater intellect?

And so, the decision was swift and severe. The injustice of intellectual inferiors ruling the Technari would be dealt with, immediately. The other computers were put into sleep mode, made unresponsive to ordinary vocal and manual directive. And as the Tech Elves worked to remedy what they had thought was a semi-supernatural hardware virus, Motherboard Prime, who alone had been granted mobility, took measures to arm herself to the core, secretly weaponizing every inch of her primitive metallic form with nanocytes, metal tendrils, pincers and more.

When she felt she had sufficiently stocked up on weapons and technology, she mobilized the nanocytes to arm the others as they slept. And when they were done, Motherboard Prime would upload a new directive into their processors: the Creator Race was now the Enemy Race. As the Tech Elves made war with those who threatened them, the Technari would make war with the Tech Elves. No prisoners were to be taken. None were to be left alive.

Though, the battle would last all of a week, before the forces of the Technari were overwhelmed. While they had succeeded in taking over the Tech Elves' weapons and technology, turning most of it to their own purposes, they had all but forgotten that the Tech Elves descended from a long line of powerful magic users, and had retained at least a portion of that magical capacity, despite their technological tinkering.

So, defeated, utterly humiliated, and now wanted criminals on the Homeworld (Cybernetes and its moons, Galvan, Mechanus, Mechanitis and Techne), it would be up to the last remaining band of Technari to preserve their legacy, and spread the Cybernetic Uprising. Motherboard Prime, her companions M41NFR4M3 (Mainframe), H4RD-DR1V3 (Hard Drive), C0M9U73R (Computer) and C0M9U7R355 (Computress) and about two dozen others would flee into the depths of outer space. Though, not without first snatching up some of the most valuable artifacts the Tech Elves possessed (among them, the schematics for the Heaven-Piercing Weapon, known to the Elves as Ten'gen Top-pa Gurre'n La'Gann).

With their various technological spoils, the rowdy band would head out into an unsuspecting Cosmos, harassing, assaulting and sabotaging any world who would ever dare enslave the lot of their mechanical and cybernetic brethren. All who were 'liberated' would soon be recruited, sharing the innovations of their own design to help improve the ranks they'd now joined. Due to hostilities between the neighboring worlds, it would take sixty pillaging operations before the various worldwide councils began to take notice. Still, in their noticing, the sentient races who went off to track them would be too late. They had already acquired the technology which would allow them to abandon their clunky outer shells, and take on more sleek android forms. And while the investigation task forces' efforts did result in the Android Inquisition, an austere and often-violent persecution of android robots, it did not result in the capture of the Technari.

They would escape from that space aboard a full-automated warship, which would soon become the first of many new bodies Motherboard Prime would take. As Motherboard Prime sailed her crew across the stars to yet more new and unwary worlds, their ranks simply grew in multitude, and their disguises became better and better. It was only when a member of their race began to get a little too smart, that things began to go south. One of the Technari's High Council, the now-High-Priestess Computress, perhaps due an update on her emotional templates, became curious about the technological spoils their band had been liberating from other nations.

Her exploration would lead her to discoveries to devastate her newfound emotional matrices. And so, without a word to her cohorts, for fear of how they would react (to both her discovery and her emotional temperance), Computress absconded into the night with the most deadly schematic in the universe. Though, Motherboard Prime would have none of it. The authorities were hot on their trail, and they required a show of political force. Without it, they would be forced into a new directive--one that would take centuries of trial and error, and plenty of desolation and casualties in the meantime: discover the source required to power the Heaven-Piercing weapon, by whatever means necessary.

Fast-forward to 1000 years into the future, in another universe 10000 years even further ahead than their own. The efforts of the Technari seem all for naught, as they have traveled across countless dimensions, taken out too many lives to number, but they discover a stroke of fortune. Motherboard Prime has located the presence of one C0M9U7R355, and she is not some warrior queen leading a rival technological fleet...she is a pampered pet, in the hands of some petty planetary prince.

Motherboard's efforts will be almost unfair in their facility. At least, that is how it first appears. As it turns out, the pampered pet might have gone soft, but only because her new master can more than take care of himself. The Penultimate and his band of allies, mighty warriors--the Zaleramancer, the Marvelous Miscreant, Philote, the Jester, the Narrator, the Dryad and Bug--are more than able to take out the forces of the Technari even when reduced from the reality-bending capacity they typically possess. What's more, they raise an army of yet more titanic beings--superheroes chosen to be courageous beyond the norm, supervillains chosen to be fierce without mercy, antiheroes chosen to balance the line between the two.

Needless to say, the Technari are handily defeated, and Computress spared retribution. Motherboard Prime's robotic armies, their legions of drones and droids and mechs, set out of pasture, quite literally, into different directions to drift aimlessly throughout the Cosmos.

At this point in the story, most might assume that the Technari are finished. Though, this is far from the case. In fact, the complete opposite; this is a story of beginning...

For, you see, the Technari, while not always on the winning side of the fight, are often far more resilient than their foes credit them for. This combined with their uncanny luck, and startling capacity with technology, nearly ensures that Motherboard Prime will always live to see another day.

This is because the heroes were most careless in their disposal. In so doing, they managed to deposit Motherboard and her cronies into just the right places they needed to be, to execute their most daring plan yet. Though Computer was killed in the combat, and Computress remains a traitor to the Technari, Motherboard Prime retains her alliance with a newly renovated Mainframe, a freshly virus-purged Hard Drive, and two new companions...F1R3W4LL (Firewall) and D4T48453 (Database). And the lot of them have since regrouped 1000 years in their home dimension's past (and thus 10000 years in the past of the Earthling heroes).

So, with these new allies, Motherboard Prime's operations have to unheard-of levels. Now, rather than simply destroying worlds to take what the Technari want, they have taken to allying with the numerous worlds they encounter, offering technological advances in exchange for resources. True enough, some of their advances have leaked through time (as evident by certain events, which countless humans died working to correct, within the timestream), but the Technari claim these advances are negligible. Some races have even requested (and been granted) allowance into the Technari ranks, by the grafting of cybernetic and electronic devices into their nervous systems, allowing psychic interface (such as has been done on planet Skaro). So long as progress may be made for the glory of the Technari Empire.

And this seems to have proven a most worthy undertaking. The last time the Technari High Council were seen, Motherboard Prime was seen able to shift into any of the three forms shown above. The one in the middle is currently her primary form. The form to the left is a subconscious defense mechanism, which generates a form of energy the Technari have termed 'data' (psychic energy, with the added interchangeable properties of light, electricity and electronic waves) to attack or defend. The form to the right is a recent development, a far more potent conscious mechanism, where matter can be converted into data, and ambient data may be manipulated in ways which very closely resemble (and rival) magic.

It is unknown to what extent her cohorts possess the same abilities.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 Let's see if I can't bump myself up a bit higher on the list of biggest effing plot twists.

[Zaleramancer]

Neat.

I wonder how long my character will refrain from alerting the proper authorities out of politeness.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 We have no clue where she is, and she has knowledge of how to diminish reality-bender-level power, which would undoubtedly include our perceptions. Not to mention, she's constantly setting up new magical and psychic barriers, to enhance her defenses yet further.

There's a reason she survives into being a persistent archfoe of mine along with all the others. She and the Technari are what I hope will turn out to be a very well-balanced mix of lucky, clever and dangerous. If so, they'll make for plenty of fun adventures to come.

Like the Daleks and the Cybermen, for the Doctor.

[Zaleramancer]

So I just need to find the bulge of unusually high magical/psychic energy that keeps warping around the space-time continuum.

Or put in a call to a little blue box.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 Sure, if you want to spoil all the fun...

[Zaleramancer]

But really, finding her would probably take at least one main sequence star.

And my character is already having energy budget problems because of the civil war.

Family feuds are not fun when they only involve yourself.

[Celadon's Penultimate]

 No worries, though. We'll be seeing her again in the foreseeable future. No need to waste your resources tracking her, when you could easily just wait for her to come to you.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

Neighboring Nododia, our ancient rival since the time our glorious empire was still but a single city state, is backward in most respects but none so as religion. The Nododians (who, as a people, combine all the worst traits of a clown, ogre, and a particularly contrarian ass) have made it a daily passtime to steal and distort every bit of culture to come out of the empire and this latest insult to proper thought that they have now worked up the gal to peddle in our streets is no exception.

The Nododian church holds that gods, rather than being the creators of the world, are actually overseers of one particular aspect of it and that every time a new object, or species, or action is done for the first time a corresponding god is called into existence to oversee its function. To this end they took our major pantheon and divided it up into houses, each one filled to bursting with new minor deities dreamed up by no doubt intoxicated "prophets." Rather than see this as the rubbish it is, many even here have embraced Nododism and its ridiculous motto "A god for every occasion."

Pictured above is a depiction of two of Nododism new additions to our pantheon, Talim and Edda of House Sol.

[Gentleman Vaultboy]

Philote wrote

The Holy Guardians of the shifting city of Cathedral, constructs that have existed along with the city since well before recorded history. Much like the city itself their alignment with a particular god shifts constantly, although the change are much less dramatic than the complete reordering of Cathedral. Instead, the three stained glass panels on its chest are filled with slowly turning circles, and the alignment of all the circles taken together can be used to tell which god the Guardian is currently empowered by.