Jan 2, 2023
cant think of a joke to justify posting this but. here
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cant think of a joke to justify posting this but. here
(original image below cut)
Who’s ready for Folie à Deux Chapter 5?
Chapter 5 is releasing on Saturday, August 1st!
haven’t read any of it yet? start at the beginning!
want to be added to to a Folie à Deux specific tag list? Comment on any chapter or shoot me an ask/pm!
how about the permanent tag list? join the perma tag list to get notified of all of my one shots, fic updates, and other headcanons! reblog this post.
Folie à Deux is the sequel to Enthralled [posted on AO3], featuring one of my Guardians and the infamous Dredgen Yor.
“The line between Light and Dark is so very thin. Do you know which side you’re on?”
Its a question that my Guardian Lyrrha has been struggling with since Forsaken and now with the Allegiance Quest becoming available tomorrow, it’s a question she’s going to have to answer.
@newbabyfly is the genius behind this awesome art. Thankyou for bringing my idea to life!
“Does it hurt?”
Again, that long, slow blink; as though it’s weighing him as he is now, hands and knees in the dirt. It’s a stupid question, and he knows it - dying always hurts. Palamon taught him that much.
It answers anyway.
“I imagine it does.”
For a moment, he feels like running.
“He’s dead, then. For the last time.”
“All light casts a shadow,” says the Ghost. Jaren’s Ghost. His Ghost, now. He doesn’t know if he’s meant to laugh.
He wonders if this is how Jaren always felt, if one day he’ll learn to live with the sword that now hangs over him, heavy not just with doom and danger but with the weight of responsibility.
“Will you help me find him?”
Again, that horrible silhouette, the fire and the screams. The bark of Jaren’s cannon. The hiss of something rotten.
The Ghost turns and tilts, whirrs on its axes, stares into the noonday sun.
“I do not think it will be hard.”
He nods, as though he thinks the same, as though he knows that even were he to run, he could never outrun this. When he looks up at the Ghost, the world settles, and everything he’s brought with him - the ash that clouds his nightmares, the hot coal of fury he took from the ruins of his hometown, the Ghost of a dead man floating before him - coalesces. Weight. The moment has weight. He recognizes the sensation from his childhood, as though he’s outside of himself looking in; the feel of The Last Word, Loken’s dead eyes, a shadow in the night - he can see them laid out in a line, bringing him to this moment, to this choice.
To a spark offering a bargain. He wonders if he should be thankful. He wonders if he is a puppet.
The old anger kindles inside him again, and that faded coal begins to glow. He holds it back, just for now, because he has a purpose once more and he needs to see it, whole, without the shimmer of anger to distort it. But he lets it build, somewhere beyond his knowing, because long ago he learned the truth he once felt in the weight of Jaren’s cannon: there will always be monsters in the shadows.
He’ll just have to shine that much brighter.
He exhales, and some of the panic fades. From the ground where a boy knelt, a Gunslinger rises.
The noble man stood. And the people looked to him. For he was a beacon - hope given form, yet still only a man. And within that truth there was great promise. If one man could stand against the night, then so too could anyone - everyone. In his strong hand the man held a Rose. And his aura burned bright. When the man journeyed on, the people remembered. In his wake hope spread. But the man had a secret fear. His thoughts were dark. A sadness crept from the depths of his being. He had been a hero for so long, but pride had led him down sorrow’s road. Slowly the shadows’ whisper became a voice, a dark call, offering glories enough to make even the brightest Light wander. He knew he was fading, yet he still yearned. On his last day he sat and watched the sun fall. His final thoughts, pure of mind, if not body, held to a fleeting hope - though they would suffer for the man he would become, the people would remember him as he had been. And so the noble man hid himself beneath a darkness no flesh should touch, and gave up his mortal self to claim a new birthright. Whether this was choice, or destiny, is a truth known only to fate. In that cool evening air, as dusk was devoured by night, the noble man ceased to exist. In his place another stood. Same meat. Same bone. But so very different. The first and only of his family. The sole forbearer and last descendent of the name Yor. In his first moments as a new being, he looked down at his Rose and realized for the first time that it held no petals: only the jagged purpose of angry thorns.
Ghost Fragment: Thorn
The Ballad of Rezyl Azzir
1.
Long ago, in ages past,
Before both walls and City bright,
There lived a man, mountain-strong,
Who burned with unmatched inner light.
Proud he was, and passing brave,
His doughtiness no lie,
But as a Risen, reckless, too -
The curse of those who never die.
Rezyl Azzir, he was called,
His strength known far across the land,
For he was of the chosen few,
Who held great power in their hands.
In time his kind would find a name -
Titans, they’d be called -
But in that age of long-lost tales,
It mattered not at all.
Rezyl watched his people swell,
Watched factions rise and threaten hope,
Then watched his people march to hang
On conflict’s many-braided rope.
Rezyl watched as war began,
Watched war threaten all they’d built,
War would bring the sorry fall
Of a rose that was now doomed to wilt.
Perhaps the Fallen brought relief,
For Rezyl now could fight,
Not against his common man,
But against the coming night.
He welcomed hope, reborn anew,
Welcomed purpose shared by all,
But deep within his ancient bones,
He knew that every age must fall.
He strove for hope as best he could,
Never ceased his valiant fight,
But he thought oft upon their safety,
And on the nearness of the night.
Every eve, as Luna rose,
Rezyl sat alone and stared,
He’d think on writhing Darkness,
And wonder what lurked there.
2.
His legend grew, as legends may,
While Rezyl battled on and on,
With his rifle he slew the foes
Of the City’s new-come dawn.
Inferno, he named his mighty gun,
And it was near as known as he,
For it dealt death to Rezyl’s foes
And kept his people free.
Once, he thought to hunt a Kell,
To his wary Ghost’s dismay,
So he hatched a daring plan
Unheard of, to this day.
He let himself be captured,
Even let himself be slain!
When his killers marveled at their trophy,
Rezyl rose again.
The Kell had him in its four-armed grip,
Raised Rezyl’s conquered body high,
Then Rezyl’s Ghost revived him,
And the Kell’s plans went awry.
Rezyl’s cannon coughed but once,
Sent ether pouring from its throat,
And when the gathered Fallen charged him,
Arc-light washed away their hope.
*
He often led the pilgrim trains
That sought the City’s hopeful glow,
He saved as many as he could
Saved more than we shall ever know.
He grew weary nonetheless,
Of such small victories,
And often wondered what it would take
To bring the Darkness to its knees.
He never looked but far ahead,
Never dwelt on what he’d done,
For despite the pilgrims’ brave resolve,
He knew that death would someday come.
For strange things lingered in long-lost tales;
Horrors that refused to fade,
Nightmares that he’d never seen,
Monsters that lacked even a name.
And so it was, when Luna rose,
That Rezyl could not help but stare,
Perhaps he gazed upon its scars,
And saw himself reflected there.
3.
At last, Rezyl sought the truth
Of tales he hoped were lies -
Luna called, and Rezyl went
To see the moon with his own eyes.
What he found there left him shaken,
Shafts and burrows gnawed in stone,
He worried that those whispered fears
Now called Luna home.
His Ghost alight, he traveled deep,
Ran past worms and moths and spores
Until he came upon a place
Barred by ancient, curving doors.
Deep within his aged bones,
He felt a presence drawing near,
And heard a whisper - not of glory,
But the keening trill of fear.
Metal screeched, and Rezyl spun,
He saw the ancient doors yawn wide,
A shape resolved within the air,
For something dwelt inside.
From the pit a woman rose,
Tattered rags about her face,
Around her wound a mantle dark,
Wove of cursed lace.
She floated there, beyond the gate,
And fixed him with her stare,
Then she turned and disappeared,
As though offering a dare.
His Ghost was wary, for they’d delved deep,
And now were far from Light,
But Rezyl, as was always true,
Would not give up the fight.
“Stay here,” he told his wary Ghost,
“And should I fall then flee,
For I am but a single man,
And our cause has need of thee.
“Warn the City of what we’ve found,
Tell them Pirates aren’t the worst,
For deep within our moon’s torn flesh,
We’ve found an even darker curse.”
The Titan stood, embraced the night,
Valiantly he crossed the gate,
All around him, Darkness thickened,
As he strode onwards to his fate.
Time stopped - or rather, it stretched on
While Rezyl sought his foe;
That wicked woman, wrapped in night,
That harbinger of woe.
In that place of endless night,
He could but sense the witch,
With bullet-spark he chased her down,
Through caves as black as pitch.
She choked him with her magics dark,
Rezyl shuddered at her call,
He found he could not move an inch -
The demon had him in her thrall.
Inferno was his answer, then,
His mighty rifle roared and spat,
Illuminated with hot lead
That fiend the Dark itself begat.
Up she loomed, that wicked thing,
As though she’d won herself a bet,
As though she’d brought the Titan there,
And now her trap was set.
She laughed, and laughed, and Rezyl flinched,
For every writhing word brought pain,
He felt her screams saw at his bones,
And burrow towards his brain.
She whispered words in Rezyl’s ear,
In the way a lover might;
But promised pain and endless sorrow,
Promised ever-falling night.
“I am Xyor,” hissed the witch,
“She who’ll show you to your grave,
Betrothed, Blessed; my dear, sweet thing,
I’m the storm that you must brave.”
His ears bled crimson at her voice,
As all around him terrors woke,
Fiends that hid beyond the light
And hungered for his hope.
Rezyl tensed, his rifle close,
He’d heard the torture on her tongue,
Felt pain embrace his ancient bones -
And knew he could not run.
From deep within that hellish pit,
A flood of horrors now arose,
Birthed from sorrowed, shadowed night
They chittered as they closed.
Rezyl stood, a wall of might,
Against him crashed the snarling wave,
Inferno broke their crushing strength,
Left countless dead in dusty graves.
Then at last, the trigger clicked,
Inferno gave its final gasp,
And Rezyl fought with fists alone,
And skulls cracked in his grasp.
Around his body talons closed,
So Rezyl spun, then drew -
From his hip he pulled his Rose -
His cannon always saw him through.
He killed and killed, his Rose ablaze,
Around him demons wailed and fell,
All the while the witch did watch,
As though she wove a silent spell.
Then she shrieked, and the flood let up,
At once the chittering was done,
Rezyl stood and caught his breath
For he knew he’d not yet won.
Steps rang out against the night,
A shape approached him from the deep,
A mass of ornate, armored bone,
A nightmare woken from its sleep.
Even doughty Rezyl paused
As it lumbered into view
It carried in its massive claw
A wicked sword to run him through.
Perhaps it had been valiant once,
A hero to its kind,
Perhaps, like Rezyl, it was old,
And to combat was resigned.
He faced the monster, head held high,
And could not stop his grin,
He’d come to find the dark unknown -
Instead it had found him.
Perhaps within, he himself
Had heard a whispered voice
A buried cry that howled ‘good!’
And reveled in his choice.
The creature roared, and Rezyl shot,
His Rose kicked in his palm,
He fanned the hammer, fast and sure,
As the demon witch looked on.
A shield it conjured, black as night,
Blocked the bullets from his Rose,
They fell, harmless, to the stones
That paved the catacomb.
Its magic faltered, the black shield waned,
His foe lifted its sword apace,
Rezyl growled at the sight
Of the doom he’d been reborn to face.
The battle-cry of demon spawn
Echoed in immortal ears,
Rezyl’s challenge rang out bright,
And he charged to meet his fears.
We know not what happened then,
'Til Rezyl found his wary Ghost,
For of his mortal battle,
Rezyl would not boast.
Rezyl lived, that much is sure,
Survived both witch and wicked knight,
But unknowingly brought with him
The witch’s clawing blight.
He never spoke of her demise,
Never claimed he’d torn her down,
Perhaps within that ancient pit,
Rezyl’s fate was caught and bound.
Inferno’s end remains unknown,
The mighty rifle Darkness stole,
Perhaps the witch still holds it,
And through her pit it now patrols.
It matters not, for we know this:
In that place of grim repose,
Rezyl sat, and without a thought
He tended to his Rose.
Taking spoils from his test,
Rezyl grafted bones to steel,
Until chiton crowned his Rose
And its flower was concealed.
You know just how this story ends,
With a mighty hero left unmourned,
With whispered nightmares brought to life,
With the jagged kiss of thorns.
- Cryptarch Records // Anonymous
Weapons of Sorrow, Armor of Fate: the Worms and the Ahamkara, as illustrated in Destiny's Inventory
Much has been made about the connection between the Ahamkara and the Hive Worms, and I have touched on the topic in previous posts. I go back and forth on a near-weekly basis (yes, I am a nerd) as to whether or not the Worms and the Ahamkara are the same. Lately, I’ve been considering a new angle, which is focused on the existence of, and differences between, the Weapons of Sorrow and exotic Ahamkara armor. At the moment, I think that this latest examination offers some further evidence that the Worms and the Ahamkara are distinct entities.
I’d like to start by looking at a very interesting feature: namely, that there appear to be no exotic Ahamkara-based weapons. Ahamkara detritus is, so far, restricted to armor (and, recently, a single consumable). Similarly, although there are Weapons of Sorrow - weapons apparently based on Hive technology or powerful due to Hive corruption - there is no “Armor of Sorrow.” The weapons of sorrow are Thorn, Necrochasm, although I’ll discuss Bad Juju as well, which in its own way is the exception to these rules.
More importantly, all of these weapons reference the known capabilities of the Hive Worms, and by extension those of the Ahamkara, as illustrated in the Grimoire. Ultimately, it appears that they offer both complementary, but not identical, takes on the nature of each. The differences between the two sets - weapons and armor - is further evidence to suggest that the Ahamkara and the Worms are not one and the same, but linked or parallel entities.
First, we know that both Worms and Ahamkara can manifest as a sort of auditory hallucination. In the Books of Sorrow, Taox tells us of that: >“Senility has claimed my lord the Osmium King. He is ten, and mad. The study of ancient text consumes him. Today he raves about moons above the storm. Tomorrow he will wander the halls, speaking to his familiar, a dead white worm from the deep sea. He keeps it in glass, and he tends to it, and he neglects the duties of a king.”
Not only does the Osmium King (the father of Oryx, Savathun, and Xiva Arath) speak to his worm-familiar, he tends to it to the exclusion of his other duties. Furthermore, in book V, Sathona tells us of the same worm that:
“1. It was my father’s familiar. I ripped it from him as we fled. It is a dead white thing, segmented, washed up from the deep sea.
2. It’s dead, but it still speaks to me. It says: listen closely, oh vengeance mine…”
This reveals two important features of the Worms, both of which are elaborated upon later in the Books of Sorrow: firstly, that even if a worm is evidently dead, it can still speak. Second, that these worms speak with the same verbal tics as the Ahamkara appear to.
That link is made clear in the various pieces of Ahamkara-based exotic armor scattered through Destiny. For example, on the Hunter Gauntlets “Sealed Ahamkara Grasps,” the flavor text states: “Plating the Ahamkara bones in silver helps to quiet the auditory hallucinations...oh bearer mine.” On the Young Ahamkara’s Spine, it reads: “Give me your arm, oh bearer mine. Let me help you fill the world with teeth.” On the Warlock exotic helmet, Skull of Dire Ahamkara, the text reads: "Reality is the finest flesh, oh bearer mine. And are you not…hungry?" In all examples, two things are made clear: Ahamkara bones, despite the creatures being ‘dead,’ create hallucinations of a kind, and the speaking format of “Oh [noun] mine” is shared between the worms and the Ahamkara.
In Ghost Fragment: Warlock, we learn that the Ahamkara bones are capable of manipulating Guardians. A Warlock dares a Hunter to bring down one of the Ahamkara, and the Hunter takes the bait. At this point, the Warlock says: “And I looked at the piece of spine in my hand and wondered - why did I say that? What moved me to such pride?” The purpose of the Warlock’s challenge is unknown, but the speaker recognizes that he or she has been manipulated somehow, saying that they “Don’t know what came over [them],” and that they’d “Never shown off before.”
In the case of the Hive Worms, this manipulation manifests itself for overtly - the worms act as advisers to the Osmium sisters, demanding tribute and wars that will provide it. Over the course of the Books of Sorrow, they slowly change the original purpose of the Sisters - to find Taox, their betrayer, and kill her - to their own purpose, which is apparently universal genocide. Ultimately, when the Sisters encounter the Leviathan, which begs them to abandon the Deep, Sathona responds thus:
“Sisters, I have my father’s familiar. Look! It answers me in plain words. It helped me find this ship. It gives me strength when hope is lost.
Who will you trust? The voice that wants us to live and suffer, as we have lived and suffered? The Leviathan that offers no hope against Taox or the world-wave?” Or the plain, honest worm?
Let us see where its whisper leads us, Aurash. Let us go deeper, Xi Ro!
Let us dive, oh sisters mine.”
At this point, the fate of the three Sisters appears to be sealed. The Worm has manipulated the siblings in the same way that the Ahamkara bones can manipulate a boastful Warlock.
Finally, in one of the lines most often used to argue that the Ahamkara and Worms are one and the same, the Worms tell Xivu Arath: “Reality is a fine flesh, oh general ours. Let us feast of it” (Books of Sorrow XII: Out of the Deep). This, of course, is a direct copy of the text found on the Skull of Dire Ahamkara, simply with the noun and possessive adjective replaced. Let us examine how the lore surrounding the Weapons of Sorrow contradicts this assumption.
Both of the Weapons of Sorrow operate by harnessing the power of the Hive Worms. Let’s examine them both, and begin with Thorn’s signature perk, Mark of the Devourer. In the Books of Sorrow, the word “Devour” appears a very ominous nine times. In Book XXIV: The Scream, the word appears twice, both times in relation to the fate of the Osmium siblings and their compact with the worms. The first example reads as such: “Our might shatters entire species. We inhale the smoke of their burning. This is our compact with the Worm our God —the worm makes us mighty. But as we wield this might, our worm’s hunger expands. If we fail to feed it, it will devour us from within.” And the second follows thusly: “Soon, my siblings, we will be so mighty, and our worms so hungry that not with all our might could we possibly feed them. And we will be devoured.”
In both cases, “devouring” is evidently the power of the worms, and later the goal of Xivu Arath - “THE TRAVELER. We chase it and we will devour it,” she says in Book XLV. Thus, when we use Thorn’s intrinsic perk, we are harnessing the hunger of whatever power it uses - and hunger, as we know from the text that accompanies our exotic armor pieces, is not just a trait of the worms, but of the Ahamkara as well. It’s worth noting that in Rezyl Azzir’s final appearance, his first attack on the Hive Knight that challenges him is thwarted by the creature’s shield of darkness - it makes sense, then, that Rezyl’s - now Yor’s - weapon be able to puncture these shields.
Next, let’s consider the Necrochasm. This weapon goes through three permutations as it ascends to its final form - I’ll focus on the last two stages, the Eidolon Ally and the fully-upgraded Necrochasm. First, the flavor text for the Eidolon Ally states: “We thought it was inanimate, but it has grown...changed. Ghost refuses to analyze it further, but I secretly believe it has become my friend.” This suggests that the weapon produces an auditory hallucination similar to those described in both the Books of Sorrow and the Sealed Ahamkara Grasps.
Building on this aspect, the text accompanying the Necrochasm states: “Eternity is very close. Can you feel yourself slipping?” Compare this to the text found in Ocean of Storms 2, the Grimoire card in which we are given a description of the worms that infest the caverns gnawed within our moon. In the card, an unidentified narrator describes wandering the tunnels, waiting to die:
“One does not walk amid those dark tunnels and not lose something. They say that to look out upon the ocean is to feel small. But to walk in these caverns is to feel your grasp on reality slipping.”
Eternity, in the case of this Grimoire card, is indeed very close. It equates to death, or to the “Final sleep…the sleep that isn’t sleep,” as the narrator describes it.
Particularly important is the repetition of the word “Slipping.” Due to the way in which repeated diction is used across Grimoire cards to establish a link between Rezyl Azzir and Dredgen Yor, it seems likely that these parallels are intentional as well. In this case, the word choice establishes a link between the Necrochasm and the effect that seeing the worms had upon the unnamed narrator in Ocean of Storms: 2.
Finally, there is one last piece that is required in-game to upgrade the Eidolon Ally to the Necrochasm: the Crux of Crota. A Crux, of course, is the essence or heart of a thing - in this case, the source of Crota’s might. We know from the Books of Sorrow that the source of the might of all Hive is the worm that dwells within them; the creature or entity that Oryx refers to as “The Worm our God.” And so, we should not be surprised at the flavor text that accompanies the item: “Their god is now our power.” In essence, the Necrochasm - once fully upgraded - somehow channels the power of the worm gods to wreak destruction.
From these two examples, we see that the Weapons of Sorrow (Thorn and Necrochasm) harness the the power of the worms. We have also seen that exotic Ahamkara armor harnesses the power of the wish-dragons. This simple separation - one set of entities provides weapons, the other provides armor - offers some evidence that the worms and the Ahamkara are distinct species. Consider also the role of the Ahamkara in known Grimoire lore: these dragons granted boons to Guardians that, on the surface at least, helped them to fight against the Darkness - or the Deep, as the worm gods themselves refer to it. By contrast, the worms - as is evident throughout the Books of Sorrow - are agents of the deep, and of destruction. This is illustrated by the in-game separation of worm-god-driven ‘attacking’ weaponry and Ahamkara-driven ‘defensive’ armor, the worms are agents of destruction and the dragons agents of protection.
A written example of this occurs in Book XLVI: The Gift Mast, which describes the Hive’s assault on the Harmony:
“Now arrives Xivu Arath, at the head of her armada. She fights the Harmony for fifty years with strategies and discipline. But the Harmony turn to dragon-wishes, and their wishful bishops wrestle Xivu in the ascendant plane.”
In this instance, the wish-dragons are operating once more as a protective influence against the onslaught of the Hive.
I should note that there is no proof that the wish-dragons mentioned in the Books of Sorrow are the Ahamkara, and considering on the trajectory of Destiny’s history so far I am wary of certainty of any kind until it is written in front of me. However, based on the known properties of the Ahamkara - granting wishes and boons - it seems likely that these are indeed the Ahamkara.
This means that once again we are presented with warring protective and offensive influences. In the case illustrated in the Books of Sorrow, the Hive succeed in overwhelming the Harmony and vivisecting their dragons - and they are not mentioned again in the Books of Sorrow.
There is one final weapon to examine with regards to the worms and the Ahamkara both: Bad Juju, the pulse rifle constructed by Toland, the Shattered. Toland, you’ll remember, became obsessed with Hive power, and with the sword logic in particular. He’s also obsessed with the power of will, and with altering reality through will alone. This is communicated in many places (such as the flavor text for all Bindcaster armor), and once more in the text that accompanies Bad Juju:
"If you believe your weapon wants to murder all existence, then so it will.”
At first glance, this has very little to do with the Hive. However, I will direct you to this post, which illustrates the extent to which will is power in the world of Destiny.
Essentially, will and power are inextricably linked in the lore of the Hive, as is illustrated most explicitly in Book XIII: “You’ve done well, Auryx. Can you feel the growth of your worm? Can you feel your will beginning to warp mere law?” And later, in Book XVI: The Sword Logic, this link is restated: “You [Oryx] are no longer bound by causal closure. Your will defeats law.” It appears that Bad Juju is Toland’s attempt to imitate the Hive power of altering reality through pure will alone. However, it’s not a product of the melding of Hive and Human technology, as Thorn and Necrochasm appear to be. Instead, Toland did his best to copy the idea without having access to Hive magics.
As is indicated by the Grimoire card for Bad Juju, he certainly managed to achieve something: “There must be a structured, mechanical explanation for this weapon's hunger for combat. There must be. But none has been found.” Evidently, Bad Juju is also unbound by causal closure - the hunger that drives it comes from somewhere or something that is mechanically unclear. What is clear is that the hunger of the weapon is ‘fed’ through killing, just as is done by the Hive - the hunger of their worms is fed through slaughter - and which also ‘feeds’ the user’s Super.
However, the hunger that this Grimoire card references can also be read as a reference the hunger so often associated with the Ahamkara, and particularly with the text that accompanies Skull of Dire Ahamkara: “Reality is a fine flesh, oh bearer mine. And are you not…hungry?” In the case of this piece of armor, the skull of the Ahamkara are specifically associated with hunger.
In Bad Juju’s original form, it is covered with what appear to be the bones of a kind of bird, dissimilar in appearance to those we associate with the Ahamkara. However, when equipped with the ‘Dragonsbane’ ornament, Bad Juju appears to have had the bones -specifically, the skull - of an Ahamkara grafted to it. Since we know that these bones have the power to alter reality to an extent - by giving the player extra abilities - it makes sense that their power, when applied to a weapon, would bestow similar benefits. For example, the power to ‘feed’ endlessly on prey.
Similar to the way in which Thorn’s ornaments (“Rose of Corruption” and “Rose of Acid”) both reference the original “Rose” carried by Rezyl Azzir, the ‘Dragonsbane' ornament tells us a bit about how the weapon was created. If Bad Juju was, evidently, constructed with the aid of Ahamkara bones, then the references to ‘Dragonsbane’ and ‘hoodoo’ are revealing in their own way: Dragonsbane being, literally, the bane of a dragon - i.e. the scourge, or thing that brought about a dragon’s downfall - and hoodoo, meaning voodoo or witchcraft. This suggests that Toland killed a dragon, and that witchcraft was then used to give the weapon its powers.
Recall the method by which the Harmony’s wish-dragons are defeated, as told in Book XLVII:
“Next arrives Savathûn, flanked by her chorus and her celebrants. They trick their way onto Ana-Harmony in disguises, so that they might vivisect these dragons. The Worm our God laughs and laughs.”
Toland, as we know, is a very old Warlock, who apparently was alive at the time of the Great Ahamkara Hunt. In fact, the Ahamkara hunt and Toland’s Madness are referenced side by side in the Grimoire card City Age:
“Legends walk through this history. The Iron Lords. Saint-14's crusade against the Fallen. The mask of the Speaker. The great Ahamkara Hunt. Toland's madness. Terrible Faction Wars - and the horrifying, disastrous effort to retake the Moon.”
It is conceivable that the Hunt and Toland’s madness weren’t just concurrent or contemporary, but that one was the cause of the other. It seems likely that Toland hunted down an Ahamkara, as the Warlocks did, but that instead of destroying it he vivisected it and took his bones for his own purposes. Charming. Perhaps his "madness" is just his gun talking to him.
Now, to draw attention once more to the parallels between these weapons and the trajectory of the worms and the Ahamkara, it appears that the Harmony "turned to dragon-wishes" as a substitute for and way to combat the worm-powered Hive. Similarly, Toland seeks Hive power, but can only imitate it through the abilities of the Ahamkara. Hence, the Ahamkara offer either a complementary power to the Worms, or one born of imitation.
Frankly, I'm not sure which. However, the fact that the weapons are driven by worm-power, and the armor by Ahamkara-power, seems to me to further suggest that the two entities are different. Toland's attempt - the construction of Bad Juju - splits the difference by achieving worm-power with Ahamkara bones. It's therefore a fitting metaphor as well - the worms and the Ahamkara are not the same, but they are complementary, and can apparently be used to achieve the same purpose.
To end, I’d like to reiterate that I waffle on this topic, and will continue to waffle until Bungie gives us more information. At the moment, I’m firmly in the “separate but parallel” camp of the Worm/Ahamkara argument. I’d encourage fellow lore lovers to consider what I’ve stated above, especially as there is still so much depth to plumb, and there are still so many connections to make. Hopefully you’ve found this as interesting as I have, and I look forward to seeing what further theories these thoughts will inspire.
Of everything we saw in the teaser for Season of Opulence, Lumina is what has my attention most. I really like the theory of it being a weapon of Hope or Balance. The primary color scheme is white and black (light and dark?) which make grey (a balance between light and dark, and a call back to Shin talking about seeing grey). Even the design with clear elements of Rose (if that is what the non descript gun among all of the fancy gold ones) and Thorn; two weapons whose story embody light and dark,. It isn't one or the other, it isn't light or dark, it's both.