On the subject of Lycanthropy in Hounds:
Ok, gonna be real, this topic is outside of my wheelhouse, so I'm calling in backup. Y'all remember mentions of a Handler named Faust? Yeah, she trains Harpies, but she's also knowledgable on this subject due to her past, so this entry is her's to write up. Enjoy.
A Faustian Guide To Lycanthropy:
So it seems the Hangar Queen themself called in this favour, and I am one to honour my deals.
You might be wondering how it's any different from a Hound in concept. A person that becomes an animal? Sounds like a Hound.
That's where you'd be wrong.
A Lycanthrope is the hybrid of Human and Hound.
When you make a Hound, you are breaking the Pilot's ego like an egg shell, and forcing the yolk inside to be sculpted into a weapon. This is well known, and well understood at this point. It's become a science in and of itself, hence why Hound subtypes and new breeds of pilots are made, such as my beloved Harpies.
Now, if a Hound is the result of breaking an ego and forcing your way into a person's head, what’s Lycanthropy?
When you shatter an ego, the self still remains, albeit broken and strained by paradoxes to keep it in check.
Lycanthropy is what happens when the broken shell, the previous self, and the disturbed yolk that is the Hound, meld.
The hard part of studying Lycanthropy is that each manifestation shows itself differently, but thankfully I do have an example from my past in the Union.
There was a work in progress Hound named Orchid. She was small, weak, frail, and too nice for a program designed to churn out Hounds.
Her Handler hated it. The apologies, the kindness to other Hounds, the desire to make us proud, the Handler in question hated her for it. She saw this softness as weakness, and desired it purged when she decided to make Orchid into a full fledged Hound.
But something went wrong.
Orchid's mind did break, allowing the creation of the Hound within it, but something was... off.
Orchid obeyed orders, killed for the Union, and did seem to enter a state of Hound rage when activated by her Handler in combat.
But I always found it offputting that the differences between her Human and Hound states were... shrinking. She'd sometimes speak gibberish in Hound state, when Hounds aren't supposed to speak. And in Human state, she was always strangely... hungry. Not for food, but the way she looked at you, it was like she was aiming to size you up.
Her Handler didn't help this issue. Several times I brought it up, and several times i found myself blown off by her ignorance. I saw a ticking time bomb where everyone else saw a failure, and I knew I wanted to give myself some protection. So I gave Orchid a collar, a gift. Her Handler hated it, but she did start performing better, so she was allowed to keep it.
Then came the breaking point.
A group of rebels, finally tired of letting us do as we pleased, launched a surprise attack on our main base. They couldn't have picked a better time too, most of the Hound roster was out sick from an illness sweeping the base, leaving only Orchid as the last functional pilot on roster.
It was a disaster. By the time we'd finally gotten reinforcements, Orchid was running on fumes. And yet, despite it all, she'd managed to fend of ten rebel chassis, tricked out to the max, with her piddly Rattlecan her Handler forced her to use.
Note, fend off, not kill. She was playing purely defensive, trying to slow progress, which in my opinion she performed flawlessly.
When Orchid returned, her Handler was in a particularly bitchy mood, and decided to punish her in front of the mech techs, likely planning on letting them try their way with her afterwards. Did the usual Handler spiel, made her strip down, smacked her around, brought out a whip, the whole nine yards, but she wasn't satisfied. She never was.
Her first and last mistake was trying to remove the collar.
Orchid hadn't been in Hound state, I know this.
But when she was lying there, broken, tired, and holding onto what little shred of dignity she had left, trying to remove that collar broke something.
The wall. The invisible wall between Human and Hound. There had already been bleed, but the risk of losing the one item she had control over broke the damn.
I can't forget the screams her Handler made as she lunged atop her like a starving wolf. Her hunger would be sated, she'd make sure of it.
I remember finding bits of skin scattered through that particular part of the bay for a week afterwards. I remember her laughter, her desperate laughter. I remember the howls, the sorrow filled howls as she turned herself upon her leash holder. And I remember her begging me for help, while coated in the entrails of her own Handler.
Now, you may be asking if her programming survived this mental break, and the answer is no. Not even her trigger phrase remained, as she no longer was two separate halves, but instead a new whole.
You're also likely wondering what became of Orchid after that. Well, let's just say that, despite my preference for birds being discovered shortly after this incident, i still enjoy the company of my loyal Mandragora. She's much happier now, in this liminal state. Human, but hungry like a Hound. She's my lovely little secretary that I feed plenty of pastries to, and keep her as far away from fighting as possible. I've found that channeling her slightly more... Houndly temperments towards the idiots who try to pester me with nonsense helps her get it out of her system nicely.
I suppose as a conclusion to my experiences. I have seen it happen a few other times, but those will be for another log on Lycanthropy. I just wanted to share this excerpt from my past life, so you at least understand what Lycanthropy does to Hounds.
This was fun, and now my debt to the Hangar Queen is settled.
