Wasteland Chronologist

Writer, Wasteland Chronologist and member of the clergy of the blessed city of Berghardt. Here you will happen upon all that I find interest in. I am also open to roleplay asks, so shoot me some if you feel so inclined

[shay-awenydd]

Hello! This is the murder drones writing sideblog of @daschantal05. Any and all written works of mine, which include reblogs and Ao3 works will be posted here, while my more general reblogs and non-murder drones works will find their place on my mainblog.

Shay Awenydd (depicted above by the great @tofuto-art) is a character of mine I've been developing for a while now. There are some works of his on my Ao3 page (DasChantal05) already present, though this by far isn't all. Now that I've finished my MD novel "Murder Drones: End of an Era", I'm taking a little break from longform writing, though I promise that Shay will not fall into disinterest. He, like the Nomad, will get some novel-length pampering as well, but that lies far off into the future for now. Until then, I will occasionally put out short stories either as reblogs underneath great art, or as standalone bits of worldbuilding into the life of Shay and the city of Berghardt now partly depicted in my header by the amazing @fal0n

"The Assorted Tales of Shay Awenydd" is a collection of miscallenious plot ideas which wouldn't really fit for a novel's restricted scope. I'll update it whenever I feel like it, but as I've said before, I'm taking a bit of a break, so expect very little for the next while.

[eldritchwriter346]

“The Fruits of her Labour”

This artwork is based on an idea I had about Cyn: She accepted the Solver initially to have a second chance at life, as well as to stand up against the humans. But as time went on, she slowly became more and more corrupted in her goals due to its influence, which resulted in the Gala massacre, and everything that followed.

And after the series, although that fusion of Cyn and Solver still exists in Uzi’s tail to bug her and cause small mayhem, somewhere in the Absolute Solver, Cyn’s original, uncorrupted soul still exists.

Unable to do anything, but witness all that happened because she said “Yes.”

[shay-awenydd]

In the garden sat, razed and tilled

by countless fathoms of blood now spilled

sprout reaching hands from rotting lands

to hold the skies aloft.

And fog, heavy with iron,

but weight not only held to smell,

so can tell the crimes the bones do sing

as chimes in hollow winds.

Alone, such as always was

from buried by scrap to pointless wars

doomed to keep the essence of sin

forevermore contained within.

[kaiman-047]

Morning surprise: Part 1

[polteghost]

I like to headcanon that cyn still tries to be manipulative, even in her monster form, and uses Tessa's voice to do so.

[shay-awenydd]

That twitch in your eyelids,

the tone of your voice,

the details of your freckled face

and tendency to shoo from noise.

You stand before me,

o saviour; my friend,

a smile so wide and fiery,

ready for this all to end.

I step forward, touch your face,

yet grip only air and static noise,

torn apart; a derelict dependency,

and in the dark, the yellow eyes that bind me.

[eldritchwriter346]

After becoming the new host of the Absolute Solver, a strange ability Uzi now has is the ability to hear sounds from deep space.

This occurs in the same way we humans can “hear” sounds from space, that being that we record the different kinds of energy waves coming from certain objects, whereupon we can turn them into audible sounds. The Solver allows her hardware to do this (I don’t know the exact mechanics, it’s just Solver weirdness).

This happens when she turns her attention to certain points in the night sky. When looking the direction of a certain object, there is a chance she will be able to hear the noises it makes.

She find the “beep-boops” from deep space views with multiple galaxies to be very goofy, the droning ambience from stars to be calming, and generally enjoys listening to the music of the universe.

One sound she does not like, however, is when she tries to look at the direction of human-colonised planets that were destroyed by the Solver. Because when she does, she will hear the exact same sound…

A constant heartbeat.

It unsettles her to no end, and so she stopped looking those ways.

She also couldn’t help but notice that when she listened to that sound, the Solver in her tail couldn’t help but break into a silent, gleaming grin.

[shay-awenydd]

The oracle hadn't left her chamber for days. Windowless, steeped in nigh perfect darkness, the room soothed her senses – such a burden the visions can be, so debilitating are their effects that they draw out into the waking world, disabling to an extent that makes even light unbearable. She could barely walk as it were, crutches always kept at her sides if she wasn't sat in her wheelchair. Public appearences were rare, and yet she had the occasional ceremonial duty to attend to nonetheless. The sun, still, was unbearable no matter how much shade was cast upon her, so the umbral night gave har some much needed reprise.

One would think she'd lose track of time within that room, locked away of her own volition without as much as a ray of sunshine allowed inside, but no. She never missed a ceremony. Not once.

"I can hear it," she told me once "the sound the spheres make. Dipolar dissonances of ever-shifting directions; a celestial cacophany, the tone the cosmos casts. And when the long night falls, and the light is obscured, I hear harmony obscuring hoarse frequencies. It's bearable then, the dim corona of the planet in the sky. All that remain are whispers in the wake of screams..."

Above her, within the windowless chamber hangs the same darkness that which overshadows her dreams. Within the temple, the same gloom reigns. Within the stained glass that which cast colourful shades onto the devout on the benches, similar blackness is displayed.

[shay-awenydd]

"Eyes. Unstructured gazes leering at me from the dark, expectant. Hungry. My whispers – heralds – holler strange names of people and places, of featureless faces – who are we? Why is it, no, rather how is it that we stand alone amongst so much company? So many breaths in one place, I feel light-headed... Oh, won't you watch over us?" He spoke through me, as if at another presence yet unseen. I admit, a chill did claw at my back in that instant, but I knew better than to turn and look. Yet, as if I had done so nevertheless, I blinked to find him bearing renewed reverence, his arms held skyward, shaking as he stared at something he did not want to see. "O great darkness, reveal thyself! Convince me of the terror I've seen!" As if another spoke for him, his voice crackled with renewed madness, a passion deep-rooted forcing its way out of his throat. "You hang there so conniving above us, patient for the day we come to join your roiling silence. I hear them! I hear the billowing of those you took- My friends!", he billowed into the crumbling drywall of the ceiling, "Screamin' out for me!" His mad eyes drifted back to me – or through me, rather, melancholy entrenched within his psyche, "I can't... I can't reach out... my hand, it doesn't... it doesn't want to..." Arms doing their best to support a crumbling frame – legs giving way to the muddy road. Snow falls on his motionless mass, his eyes directed upwards at something only he could percieve.

Silence falls. People stare, then go on about their day. Another madman, these cases are getting worse every month...

[sicksucculentz]

One thing about N that he actually makes a slight effort to hide is that he DOSEN’T feel remorse or guilt for killing worker drones. He actually finds it a lot of fun and quite satisfying

Only Uzi and Thad know it but he has dreams in wich he’s on a killing spree. Those are NOT nightmares but rather on N’s list of pleasant dreams. Hell he even has a specific chew and throw around toy that admits realistic screams that he loves to whip around.

For one of his birthdays Uzi set up this whole scavenger hunt idea for him. It utalized a lot of his skills and programming. Hunt, chase, pounce, search, stalk, aim, and even one section that utilized his brute force strength. He LOVED it and wants to do it again but it was REALLY hard to find worker drones that would allow themselves to be hunted down or stalked by N. He didin’t kill anyone but he did come pretty close before Uzi intervened, he got a little TOO into it.

A lot of the others forget he’s a machine designed to kill and he’s gonna crave what he’s made to do just like a lion craves to hunt

[shay-awenydd]

"I-I wouldn't call them psychopaths," the man holding a can of oil insisted," and antisocial doesn't describe them either – they're actually quite friendly if you get to know them, and they're sorry if they nick you with their claws." He tried and failed to suppress a scrunched expression "But, I admit there is... well, tension is how I'd put it." He leaned in closer over the table "It gets a bit tense when they're around. It's clear they don't really understand the act of killing - the implications of it, I mean." He took a sip from his oil, then relaxed his posture a little "But all in all, they're reasonable folk. Friendly all around, no complaints."

"I don't like being followed on my way home, Gene.", I expressed with frustration. "I don't like the way those things look at me, trace my every goddamn move. It's creepy! It's weird! You can't tell me those things aren't just one wrong glance away from gutting us!" I looked out of the window of the pub, just above the sea of heads bustling in the crowded street. There, in a small window shrowded by an awning, two yellow eyes stared back.

He shifted in his seat, the silence between us pulled as taut as a bridge cable. "Oh please, it's no cause for concern," he handwaved away my worries, "they're friendly!" He exclaimed as if he hadn't said the last few sentences. "Friendly like a cat is. You wouldn't blame a cat for dreaming of mice, would you?"

"I wouldn't. Usually." My gaze lingered on the distant observer, then swiveled back to Gene. "The glaring issue here is the fact that we are the mice. I don't wanna be a mouse in a cat's den, Gene."

"Yea- okay. Fair. You got me there. Bad analogy." Gene admitted, but I rebutted: "No, not bad analogy. Bad idea. Bad idea all around, keeping 'em in the city. Nobody wants to hear it, but they keep killing folk! Disappearences left and right, a splotch of oil nobody can explain, screams without a scene, you know it's true!"

By this time, I'd attracted quite the attention in the pub, having raised my voice a little louder than I intended. Silence, reveling in the uncomfortable atmosphere until Gene stepped in: "E-Even so, you've got to see that it's better than having the hunters all out there, in the wastes. Not only do we hook them up with oil that we can never exhaust, it's also less of a risk for our boys out there. Safer trade routes, less man- and firepower wasted on security, and less casualties over all. There might be some discrepencies here and there, I won't deny that, but it's better than a monthly tragedy. Right, Vic?"

"Yeah, whatever..." I resigned myself to my half-empty can, expressing unease as I looked back outside to see the stranger's gaze gone.

[lostjerson]

（Artwork by @MagicalGirlUtah）

"Bound fast in chains is the Daughter of the Abyss! When the Sacred Day doth come, she shall rise—bearing our frail mortal flesh up unto the Gear Paradise, that we may serve our Sovereign!"

"We shall know who she truly is."

[shay-awenydd]

"So praise be, o acolytes! Lay song unto our lordship, our greater to our meek despair! Stare upwards from the muck and grime that within which we writhe and chant your reverence, let be known your rhapsody, display thy love, thy passions!"

A sinister movement ripples throughout the space of the cathedral. Ancient stone buckles, marble cracks, windows vibrate with calculated frequencies.

"O hear! O see! Near, our nirvana must be! Like us, she pains, so bound in chains that which define our mortal coil. We must ascend, be free of our bounds! Be free like she, let bend the sound imprisonments and leave but hollow shells in our wake!"

Dozens, hooded, sing songs in strange tongues. Forms unspoken, unseen, linger in far corners; a new consciousness emerges from reverent screams; the cathedral can take no more.

First, the vicar falls. Then, so do the followers, until all but the goddess rest silent in submission. She writhes, she screams and she flails, but no action prevails to free her of her bindings as sparks and translucent shards burst from the sea of fanatics. A dozen dead, a dozen quick to follow, the rest weeping, for they have been left behind.

"Behold!" The reverent proclaims, arms outstretched "They have ascended! They have cast themselves into the light, and we, o remaining few must follow! Ready your daggers, let thy essences be led by your passion! May we all serve in the name of the black sun, may we all become but thralls to her excellence. Ready!" He holds aloft twisted steel, then turns it to face his heart "In the name of our goddess, we cast out our souls and present them to her reign! Praise be, o acolytes! Praise! Be!"

Cold steel plunges readily into countless mechanical intricacies as the hall falls finally into silence. One remains alone, held fast, left behind to weep for her fallen followers.

[fandom-hopping]

CW: body horror

•

Spore burst

Nature reclaims in the end

[shay-awenydd]

All rot is rebirth; All life, consumation.

I find you now, amongst the trees

as remains fester for initiation

into the ground, into the ground,

into the earth from which we have risen.

To give is to have, to have is to take,

and take no longer shall your shell,

should giving be its final purpose;

A god in death,

a bounty of grim disposition.

I think you gone,

your eyes grey, your body cold,

yet I look around and see the energy,

your soul, your life, your bravery,

bloom into a dozen flowers,

which, in serenity, look down on me.

It was never that you left,

you only moved beyond my grasp,

yet I touch the bark of your grave

and feel your hands pushing back,

and I feel the wind bold and stirring,

your voice hidden within the whisps.

[unknownech0]

The Blind Frenzy

Classification: hybrid

Danger level: High

required Hunting clearance: Level 4

1 Comment v

Let me Solo her.

-Y

Fun little project done for @fandom-hopping ,and oc belongs to him

Murder drones X monster hunter

[shay-awenydd]

Hunting clearence 4 – the meaning behind a pristine stamp, its ink barely dried, freshly indented onto the hunter's booklet. Many others sit beside; Outstanding Atlatl Aim; Advanced Field Camoflage; Treatment of Nanite-affected wounds. Each of them weathered and worn pale, not one undeserving of their pigment, for all of these he has earned through his own grit and iron will. Even now, years of grueling hunts laying firmly behind him, the gravelly voices of his instructors ring out inside his head for every miniscule mistake he makes.

Venatores, they call them, hunters of dangerous prey – the bigger fish in an ocean of hungry sharks. Grizzled men and women, bravery and valour incarnate decorated with countless stamps telling of their widespread accomplishments. Only the greatest among the people may join their ranks, for the hunt takes readily those who cannot fend for themselves.

He is a Venator. One of the best, proven time and time again, a mound of machine-hunter cadavers to his name, a steel dart piercing directly through each of their cores. But nothing... nothing could have prepared him for this. Such an innocuous name, a number but one value above the last...

He cowers now in a quiet corner, darkness befallen the derilicion outside. Out of darts and out of breath, he measures each gasp with atomic precision as he hears the monster's lightfooted approach just around the corner. A life of training, of torturous drills and sleepless nights spent freezing in apocalyptic blizzards has come down to this. One sound, however unassuming, might just spell his end faster than he could percieve it. One wrong breath. One wrong rustle. One wrong sli-

[joshuahstellar]

"And So It Wakes"

[shay-awenydd]

"Sometimes, when I'm lost within my deepest dreams – the visions which haunt me – I peer up at the great, dark sphere in the sky and ask O why? Why me? Why must I sit in the saddle, o addled I am, with the burden of this nameless thing? And sometimes, when especially distraught upon my knees, I swear the sphere peers back down, though no comfort is to be found within its gaze. I feel a grip tighten around my neck, like a noose being pulled taut as I gasp for breath.

And then I awaken, drenched in sweat. I shouldn't sweat. No drone should. But I do, just as I hack up blood as I cough and get dizzy when I stand up too fast. It's torture. Everyday. But I'm still here, and I still dream."

[shay-awenydd]

A Burden so Great - Chapter 1 - DasChantal05 - Murder Drones (Web Series) [Archive of Our Own]

A new work begins, and my adventure continues. Whatever I'll find beyond these mountains, I shall know only once I reach the valleys beyond. But a wicked whisper is carried by the winds, and a knot turns in my stomach. Perhaps this was a bad idea, but I cannot abandon my path now. One way or another, I'll see this through.

[the-alternate-timeline]

Words of affirmation

@shay-awenydd

[shay-awenydd]

I must say, and this is spoken without a hint of animosity, that of all the chapters in my life thus far, this is certainly one of the strangest.

...Though I admit, I've never looked at my own body with such admiration as I have wearing a harness, even if I struggle to admit it.

Oh, Eris and Charon, what a terrifying experience for a man of my apprehension. A lovely bunch to share a nice cup of oil with, and intriguingly intense if one wishes to indulge in such passions of the steel. I, for one, am fine to have such frivilous dress to serve as my line in the sand.

[fal0n]

It probably really sucks to be made of metal but have the feelings of flesh sorry girl

Tried to go for the divine machinery aesthetic but idk how well I pulled it off...... I deleted my sketch on accident halfway through so here's a kinda sketch instead + textless version

[shay-awenydd]

"From the moment I understood the coldness of my steel, it disgusted me. I craved the life and vibrancy of flesh. I aspired to the blessed intricacy of the organism. Your kind cling to your metal as if it will not rust and fail you. One day the mechanical mimicry you call a temple will seize and you will beg my kind to save you.

But I am already saved. For the flesh knows feeling you cannot comprehend."

–Mass of pulsating meat found in a warm laboratory.

[the-alternate-timeline]

Week 2 in the repair shop

For the cryptid that invades the group chat, I bestow the highest honor I can give. Smegsification of your oc

@shay-awenydd

[shay-awenydd]

"W-What is this place? Where am I? W-Who are you people?... And what am I wearing?"

[dragonfangstudios]

Thinking about murder drones aus, I have 3 big ones I've been thinking about a bunch; drone state (wip name) wherein Khan is much more like his orginial concepts as a much more hardened man, the colony has been made into the equivalent of a police state with the WDF controlling everything to "keep the peace" in aims to keep the dds out (I've actually mapped out the layout of this version of the compound too. The second is kinda stolen from another Tumblr user, it's an au where Doll joined Uzi and the gang during the promening after Uzi offered which would be really fun to map out their dynamics more. And finally, my own swap au where doll is the main character instead of Uzi, and instead of N being the dd to be shot in the head it's J which would be really cool I think having J still have that connection to cyn and hiding it from doll since she genuinely likes her.

so I want people to pick the most interesting one:

Drone state

Doll joins the party au

Doll mc swap au

Voting ended onNov 29, 2025

[shay-awenydd]

"Attention all citizens, the WDF is conducting a routine check on rooms and personal belongings for your safety. Dissenters will be assumed disassembly sympaphizers and detained."

Another search, another man with a rifle standing in my room. "Sit," he spits, "and don't move an inch." Everyone is suspect, an enemy until proven otherwise. He tears at my drawers, then rips at my things; photos, treasures, prizes which the wasteland brings. "What's this?", coloured he intrigued, holding aloft my pistol, a murder drone's talon welded to its grip. "Where'd you find this contraband class B?", taking aim while spouting strict guidelines, thirty-one rounds of five-five-six pointed directly at my chest, "Speak, criminal!"

I began: "It wasn't contraband last w-" "Hey HEY!", interrupted he, "Watch it, suspect." his finger a hair's width away from striking me dead. Slowly, my hands raised – but not all the way – I continued, a cautious pace flowing from my voice box: "I... am a scavenger. I found it... on a corpse... in the city..."

With a fierce gaze and steady aim, he doubted: "Yeah, right. We'll see about what Khan has to say about that. Ain't nothing wrong with a talk, scavenger." He twitched his head slightly leftward, towards my door, then firmly ordered me to get up.

Without a word, I followed, knowing those who "talk" to the leader rarely make it back the same.

[fandom-hopping]

Behold, my horrid first sketch request!

An unnamed solver drone lay dead in the snow, its insides gutted, its visor shattered, a single, blood-shot human eye staring back at you where the glass has broken away. Think of Mouthwashing for this.

Warning: body horror

•

•

•

•

"If a tree falls in the woods and no ones around to hear it, did it ever really happen?"

(I friggen love mouthwashing)

[shay-awenydd]

The things I have seen,

that which has and will have been,

o terror, lest I let her lay;

the reflection looking back at me,

with bloodied mouth and oily snow,

strewn about within the cold,

mourning, resting, stillness-gripped.

Judging – a pretense well-worn,

hatred led – a seer scorned,

knife in hand with truth intent,

to make come true the profecy's lament.