#m4ngl3

[memurfevur]

Like Yes Undeniably It Is a Freak

But ALSO IT IS OUPPY!!!!

(left was drawn by Jonah @trollbreak )

[memurfevur]

Found

Google Doc Link

Character(s): Athena Uyilst, Athens Uyilst, M4NGL3, npc

Plot: Hide and Seek

About: After Athena's rescue, the twins are reunited. The past is revisited, the future is uncertain, but here in the present they stand face to face.

Word Count: 1,982

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Athens had been in the middle of a lecture about pre-Imperial civilizations and their legacies. He spoke with passion, though it never ceased to be an uncannily-sore subject whenever the death of his own people became the thing of flash cards and letter grades. The moons were a little more than halfway across the sky when he received the call.

The vibration of his palmhusk wasn’t often enough motivation to make him pause his lessons no matter the subject, yet to ignore this one was to ignore the values that his people had once preached. He let the class go early and canceled the rest of them for the night. “Family emergency,” he had reasoned, and hoped that his students had been paying enough attention in class to know what a family is.

Athens had hardly left the hallway let alone the building before calling the number back and pressing the device to his ear.

“Deadshot Tavern,” answered a woman from the other end. Athens closed his eyes and rehearsed the desperate phrase he had been taught. “Ah, Uyilst. We tried calling you.”

“Is she there?” Athens asked with a great tremor to his voice. “Is she alive?”

There was a shuffling on the other end and an older woman’s voice came through, terse and unpleasant. “Get your ass over here. Drinks are on me.”

Athens staggered and had to lean against a roughened brick wall to keep from collapsing. A shock of disbelief pulsed through him, and any other words the women may have spoken were drowned out by the rushing of blood to his ears. He hung up and shoved the palmhusk in his pocket, his unsteady feet finding their footing as he picked up the pace. A walk turned into a jog, a jog into a run, until he could not register his feet hitting the ground.

He had not seen her since she had left him many sweeps ago. He had seen photos of her, of course; headlines in newspapers talking about the 9th seat of the Highblood Council occupied by a beautiful Lilacblood who had previously owned a psychic shop. Lowbloods and Midbloods alike loved her and saw her as the martyr they needed. It came to no surprise that she made an enemy of the very government she worked for, and her strength was punished with exile and broken by slavery.

In his pan’s eye, he saw them back when they were kids. Wide-eyed, loving, curious; fragile things that grew up to be broken and dysfunctional. They had both been angry back then, but she took it out as a famed bounty hunter. Him? A monster, a manipulator, a mindless beast who lashed out. Could she ever forgive him? This question seared him to the bone, and for too many sweeps he kept the canyon between them too wide. But they were still family, still blood; he loved her with every cell in his body, even if she wouldn’t. He had to help her. He didn’t care what became of them after, as long as she was safe.

His hands crashed into the wooden door of the tavern, pushing it open with the level of strength only a mad, desperate person could have. This had once been their home, long ago: the Deadshot Tavern, also known as the Huntress Guild. Only the top most elite female assassins are hired here. It was where his sister learned to be a killer, and became the best of the best of them all. But shadows of legacy did not matter to him. Rushing past familiar faces, he looked wildly around. “My sister, where is she?”

“Uyilst,” came the familiar commanding tone of Snarefin, head of the Huntress Guild. The seadweller stood on the back stairs that led up to rented-out bedrooms. Her clawed ear-fins twitched with impatience, but there was nothing hostile in his aging woman’s posture. A wide, shark-like grin split half of her face, and her one eye glimmered with pride. “Up here, kiddo.”

Athens wasted no time and followed her up the stairs. He ran his hand along the old wooden walls of the place, and his heart sped up when he realized Snarefin was taking him to the twins’ old childhood bedroom.

It was just as he remembered, though now with an aged musky smell from sweeps of disuse. The wallpaper, now slightly yellowed, still was home to a number of crayon drawings and sticky notes that clung on to their adhesive with baited last breaths. Tables and shelves were crammed full of books that were either hardly touched or abandoned on a numbered page. Stuffed animals decorated the floor and took residence in either of the two twin-sized vertically positioned against the far wall. The bed closest to the wall was one that Athens had used to occupy, with a star-patterned quilt and clashing pillow cases. The other bed closest to the window belonged to…

“Athena,” Athens gasped when his eyes landed on her. She was different from what he remembered; grown, beautiful, but with a weathered sageness to her soft features that only trauma could bring. It was clear that the Huntresses had cared for her since her arrival, including a bath and a fresh outfit of pristine white that clashed against the nostalgic shade of the bedroom. Below her eyes her cheeks bore scars that he did not remember her having, cleanly tattooed to her face. Her bright pale purple eyes scanned him over and almost glowed in the darkness.

M4NGL3, the strange animalistic drone that he had hired to rescue her, stood next to her in the corner.

“It was you,” Athena declared, her voice even and cold. “You hired it to bring me here.”

“You’re alive,” Athens shook his head, tears lacing his voice. “You’re alive…”

Athena’s expression softened, but she didn’t respond, and instead shifted to look out the bedside window.

Snarefin grunted and patted Athens on the arm. “Guess I’ll leave you two to it. And uh,” her voice dropped as she leaned closer to Athens’ ear, “don’t take it personally if she has opinions about this.” Athens’ brows furrowed, confused, but Snarefin offered no more explanation and quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.

“She’s right,” Athena said, “about me having opinions.”

“I don’t understand. Is this about what I used to do? The things I had put those people through? What I put you through?” He licked his lips nervously, glancing to the side as shame began to flood him not for the first time. “I understand, you don’t have to forgive me. But I’m not like that anymore. After you left I tried my best to change, to be the kind of person you would have preferred to be around, with or without you. You don’t have to believe me, that’s okay, but… but I couldn’t leave you out there.”

“You should have.”

“Should have? And let you continue to suffer as a slave?”

“By bringing me back to the Mainland you are putting yourself and the damn guild in danger. If they catch wind that I’m back, they’ll come after me and kill everyone in the process.” Athena looked back at him, her eyes paler now and mimicking the ice in her voice. “It would have been safer for you to leave me alone.”

Athens’ lip began to quiver. He could feel his heart shrivel in his chest, sending volts of panic through his veins. His sister didn’t want to be back? She’d rather be hurt than to be happy? For him? He shook his head, his words muttered through clenched teeth, “No. No, the truth of the matter is, it is not safe no matter where we are. We are Uyilsts. We are outcasts. Oracles belonging to a minority they’d rather see dead than to give two nickels about helping. We’re either fighting for our lives, or fighting to make sure we don’t have to. I love you, sister; I’m not going to leave you to suffer on your own. Not like you did me.”

Athena’s eyes widened momentarily, then quickly flicked to the ground. “Your behavior wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t be around someone who would just as quickly use his torment techniques on me as he would people who would simply annoy him.”

“I know!” Hot tears began to stream down his face. “I know that, Athena, and I think about that almost every damn night. You were all I had of home. The only one who would understand the very same level of loss I went through, because we went through it together. Our home. Our family. Our friends. Our identities! Our names! I should thank you: you leaving helped me to find myself, improve myself, and learn how to cope with this. But, that still doesn’t erase the hurt and the fact that I am to blame for it. If I could go back in time and undo what I did to you I would, but I can’t. So all I can do is to look out for you now like I should have done all those sweeps ago.

“Athena… Tiemeska, I am so, so sorry. I was a hurt man who sought to hurt others, and that was not healthy of me. That was not where my anger and hurt should have been directed and handled. I know I hurt you. You do not have to forgive me, but I am sorry.”

Small stretches of silence passed. Then, Athena slid off the mattress and approached Athens slowly, silently. She cupped his face and stroked his cheeks with the side of her thumbs. From this close, Athens could see that she had been holding back tears, too. “I forgive you.”

The taller Lilacblood felt all strength leave his body. He nearly collapsed on her, his arms wrapping around her and scooping her into a tight embrace. He buried his face into her shoulder, his warm breath and tears dampening her shirt. His body shook as he sobbed uncontrollably, and before long her own cries joined in with his in a heartache symphony.

“I want,” he said after a moment, trying to form intelligible words through his cries. “I want to stand by you. Please, let me be there for you. Whatever challenges this brings, let us go through it together. Please…”

“Shut up,” Athena shook her head, her voice muffled by his coat. “Of course we’ll go through it together. I have nowhere else to go.” She let go of him and stepped back, wiping tears from her eyes with her palm. “...Thank you for breaking me out.”

“I=N=Q=U=I=R=Y …”

Both of the Lilacbloods jumped slightly, startled, and turned to look at the drone in the corner. M4NGL3 was shifting back and forth awkwardly on its two paws and looked almost sheepishly at the ground. “C=A=N . I . L=E=A=V=E . N=O=W ? W=A=T=C=H=I=N=G . A . S=O=B . F=E=S=T . W=A=S . N=O=T . P=A=R=T . O=F . T=H=E . A=S=S=I=G=N=E=D . M=I=S=S=I=O=N .”

Athens couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and with a sniff he motioned towards the door. “I’ll um, I’ll wire the credits to Snarefin, and she’ll um, she’ll get them to you.”

With a curt nod M4NGL3 slunk past them. Athena quirked a brow with an amused smirk on her face, and when the drone left she looked to Athens. “You couldn’t have hired a less terrifying and weird Huntress to save me?”

Athens shrugged and ruffled Athena’s hair, “Eh, beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. Vu sosiua to.”

Athena crossed her arms and smiled, shaking her head. “Sosiuavu to.”

I love you.

[memurfevur]

Help Wanted

Google Doc version here

Character(s): Athens Uyilst, M4NGL3, NPC (Snarefin), mentions of Athena, mention of Bladed (@trollbreak )

About: On the quest to find his sister, Athens looks for help from some old friends– and meets a strange new one.

Plot: Hide and Seek

Word Count: 2,389

===========================

Athens entered the dim yet lively tavern. The building held an air of danger and tension, of lionesses waiting for the chance to pounce and kill. Strangers looked at him in partial awe and confusion, before snorting their disdain and returning to their drinks. All of them were women, well trained in assassination both obvious and discrete. Mistresses of poisons and blades. Goddesses who could control how much agony you’d experience before your demise. Hounds who could sniff out your location with ease. This was not truly a tavern after all, but a guild– home to the Huntresses, fine-tuned killers for bounty. Among the best, hired by even the Government at times, though they were a rogue group who took commissions from anyone. From anything.

The creaks in the floorboards were familiar. The tapestries that hung on the walls were stained and withered, old depictions of Empire propaganda sabotaged and comedically vandalized by drawings and graffiti. The lanterns cast a dim glow over the taverns’ residents, creating dancing shadows beneath them. It truly felt old-timey, a medieval relic among steel giants. Athens found himself fancying the nostalgia, both aesthetically and physically, as he paced past the wooden tables he picked splinters off of sweeps ago.

He approached what most would mistake to be a bartender, but really was a receptionist. She looked at Athens and for a moment her eyes lit up pleasantly, but like the other strangers the excitement was soon replaced with neutral disinterest. A common mistake, Athens realized; these women would have known his twin sister and at a first glance would think that she walked in his shoes. His sister had made a name for herself: Huntress Tiemeska Highglow. Revered was she, the one who was family to more than just he. The breadwinner of their youth, and the mother and sister to a guild of assassins. A part of him wished that he could give the Huntresses what they had lost, but this had not been his life.

“Can I help you?” The bartender woke him from his thoughts.

“Yes, I’m looking for an Uyilst? Athena Uyilst.”

“She’s not here,” the bartender said flatly, “She hasn’t been here in a good hunk of sweeps. Last I heard she was a goner.”

“Surely you don’t think that’s true?”

The bartender studied him for a second or two, pity twisting in her eyes. He knew that she knew him, recognized him from when he was a younger adult. He knew she recognized the longing and desperation in him, the hope that would allow him to hold onto doubt, for it mirrored her own. “I don’t know what to tell ya. Last I heard she got hit by the Government itself. Some say she got the rope necklace, others say her moirail took pity on her and exalted her somewhere, maybe a prisoner once again. The details are murky but, odds are, they don’t look good, kid. Whatever the matter,” her eyes flicked to the other guild members at their tables trying not to be caught eavesdropping. “Huntress Highglow hasn’t been with us since she left to make a new life in the Capital.”

“I suppose then, that it would be the murky details that would encourage me to keep looking.”

“You might not like what you find, Uyilst.”

“She’s my sister,” Athens murmured, “I have to try.” He tossed a glance briefly over his shoulder when another Huntress came walking in, pearly whites gleaming at a bounty well won. She joined her sisters at a table, who all laughed and started to gossip about the adventure. With a furrowed brow he turned back to the bartender, “I would like to hire a Huntress to find her.”

“No. That would be wasting our resources chasing a hypothetical. We’re killers. We don’t work on sympathy.”

“But she was one of you!”

“She was one of us, exactly.”

This earned a scowl from the Lilacblood, but his expression lightened when he glimpsed the guild leader walking from the back hallway beside the bar. The founder of the guild, Huntress Snarefin stood at roughly 8 and a half feet tall, with fins on either side of her head that were torn from years of work. At each rod tip connecting the fins, bright orange exoskeletal claws– much like horns– splayed threateningly. Scars crossed over her face, echoes of a battle long past that caused her to replace one of her ruined eyes with a mechanical one. The Fuchsia wore her color as a cloak around her muscularly built body, concealing most of her form, but made no mistake of her brutality. She was the mother of the establishment, the caretaker of all her Huntresses, the leader of the family unit. She had trained his sister herself and nurtured her bloodlust into something more useful and controlled. She held everyone’s respect, for anyone who crossed her never stood a chance. The roughened features of her face softened only when she saw him, “Uyilst?”

“Snarefin, it’s good to see you again!”

“And you.” She glided around the corner, casting a suspicious glance between the bartender and Athens. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just telling him we can’t let him hire a Huntress,” the bartender spoke up.

“And why can’t he?”

Athens lifted his head, keeping his tone firm and confident. He knew it would reach Snarefin better that way. “I am looking for my sister.” There was an uncomfortable silence after he spoke those words, and Athens began to feel that this might have been a waste of time after all. Perhaps his sister truly was gone for good.

The silence was broken when Snarefin turned around and beckoned Athens with her hand, “Come with me.”

After tossing a curious glance at the bartender, Athens followed Snarefin up the stairs that were adjacent to the hallway. The following corridor was long and narrow. On either side rows of doors led to spare bedrooms, some housing Huntresses, some others housing genuine customers. There was an old musk smell, something that was a mix of old blood and dust, and yet it also smelled like home– warm candles, fresh food, exotic perfumes. This was a hall he had been familiar with once upon a time. A hall where he spent countless nights under the skirts of many women. A hall where he once laughed with his sister after she would come back from her bounties. It was strange now being led down it again, and knowing that he will not be able to see his sister’s smiling face.

Snarefin led him to the last door on the left, paused with some hesitance, then turned to him. “There may be a Huntress who can help, but I must warn you: they’re not what you’d expect.”

Athens was quick to answer, “I don’t mind! Please, I’d be grateful.” With a nod, Snarefin opened the door.

At first, Athens thought Snarefin was playing a trick on him, or that whatever Huntress she had been referring to may not have been here at the moment. The room was dark and vacant; the bed went untouched and dust collected on the one dresser in the corner. Athens looked to Snarefin curiously, though his unspoken questions were answered when a sharp hiss came from… above?

From the shadows of the rafters slinked a strange shape, and Athens saw two small white dots staring at him from within the darkness. Then, soft clicking sounds were heard, and a metallic tube descended with a strange face-like shape attached to it. One eye housed one of the small little dots he had seen, while the other eye was a shutter of sorts that clicked open and shut rapidly like a camera. Before long, more strange tendrils–this time with claws– descended from the rafters, and following them was a body Athens had never seen the likes of before. He could not tell if the creature was a beast or a man. It stood with digitigrade legs and  tail, and its head was fox-like with a metallic white sheen. And yet, the creature had hands and horns, and a vaguely humanoid shape to it altogether. Red tubes that had a faint glow to them connected its head to the rest of its body. “What the hell–?”

“It calls itself M4NGL3. We don’t know where it came from, but it works with one of our affiliates. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at its job.”

Loud static noise started to erupt from the creature, startling Athens and prompting him to take a step back. The static soon transformed into strange radio frequencies, like someone was rapidly switching the channels. Through it all an eerie voice spoke, one that did not sound only masculine nor only feminine, but with both tones at the same time–as if it had two voices talking in unison. “C=L=I=E=N=T ?”

“It might be able to help you. It’s especially strong in tracking, we’ve learned.”

M4NGL3’s eyes were focused on Athens, who hesitantly reached inside his coat to pull out a small picture. It was a picture of his sister the last he knew of her, clipped out of a newspaper article sweeps ago. A beautiful woman who looked identical to him, smiling in front of some building with children around her. She had always been an advocate for the youth, even though the Government remained deaf to her suggestions. Athens handed the picture to M4NGL3 who gently pinched it between the claws of a  metallic tendril. It held it up for its camera to see, and then brought it close to its own face. “N=A=M=E?”

“Athena Uyilst. Also known as Tiemeska Highglow, or the Foreseer.”

“H=H=M=M . R=E=C=O=R=D=S . M=A=T=C=H . “

“Excuse me?”

M4NGL3 snapped its eyes to him with a tilt of its head, “I . H=A=V=E . A=C=C=E=S=S . T=O . C=E=R=T=A=I=N . D=A=T=A=B=A=S=E=S . T=H=E=R=E . A=R=E . I=N=T=E=R=E=S=T=I=N=G . R=E=P=O=R=T=S . O=N . T=H=E . F=O=R=E=S=E=E=R . “

“Is… is she alive?” Athens held his breath as the creature clicked and whirred in thought, as if it was searching for something invisible, something to pull out of these invisible rivers of knowledge it claims access to. After several long heart beats, he grew impatient, “Well?”

At last, it gave an answer: “I . D=O . N=O=T . K=N=O=W .”

“Please,” Athens said, “if you can find my sister, I’ll pay whatever you want. Whatever you need. Please just find her.”

“F=I=N=D . H=E=R,” M4NGL3 rotated its head at an angle that should be inhumanly possible for someone with a spine, “O=R . R=E=T=R=I=E=V=E . H=E=R ?”

Athens remained silent for a moment as he thought, then sighed, “Is there a way you can contact me when you find her? Can I make my decision then?”

“N=E=G=A=T=I=V=E . M=Y . B=R=O=A=D=C=A=S=T=I=N=G . S=Y=S=T=E=M=S . A=R=E . J=A=M=M=E=D .”

“Well can you get them fixed?!” His voice grew louder with desperation and impatience. Snarefin placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“T=H=E=R=E . A=R=E . O=T=H=E=R . W=A=Y=S . T=O . C=O=M=M=U=N=I=C=A=T=E . P=H=O=N=E ?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah. 0-B, 705-555-24A7.”

“L=O=G=G=E=D . I . W=I=L=L . C=A=L=L . Y=O=U . W=H=E=N . I . F=I=N=D . A=N=Y=T=H=I=N=G .” Its eyes narrowed and its bestial ears flattened, “I=F . T=H=E=R=E . I=S . A=N=Y=O=N=E . T=O . F=I=N=D .”

“Great, wonderful, thank you!” He nearly felt like crying with this news. “How much do I owe you?” The creature stared at him as if he was speaking in tongues. He cleared his throat and asked again, “How many credits?”

“…. I . D=O . N=O=T . N=E=E=D . Y=O=U=R . C=U=R=R=E=N=C=Y . B=U=T . I . W=I=L=L . S=P=E=A=K . W=I=T=H . M=Y . P=A=R=T=N=E=R . B=L=A=D=E=D . F=O=R . H=I=S . N=E=E=D=S. A=N=D . R=E=Q=U=E=S=T=S . A=M=O=U=N=T . P=E=N=D=I=N=G . W=I=L=L . C=A=L=L . Y=O=U . M=R ?–”

“Uyilst. Athens Uyilst.”

“L=O=G=G=E=D .”

“Thank you, M4NGL3,” Snarefin nodded, the pressure of her hand on Athens’ shoulder telling him that the meeting needed to be wrapped up soon. “And if there is anything else, we can help you two patch together when communication is difficult.”

“Thank you,” Athens was nearly breathless with relief. He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes, and his body felt near to the brink of collapsing. Stress had run him thin, but knowing someone was going to help him took away the anxieties that became the fuel for his metaphorical motor. “Thank you, both of you.”

“It’s alright, kiddo. Come on, let’s get you some meat and mead before you head back on the road, eh? I haven’t seen you since you were a stupid kid, you owe me.”

Athens watched as M4NGL3 ignored their gratitudes and opened up the bedroom window. It climbed out of the room quickly and gracefully like a spider. He didn’t know how to feel about the robotic beastly Troll, but he hoped the next time he had to hear that unnerving radio voice that it would carry some good news. He twisted around and gave Snarefin a tired, but relieved, smile, “Sounds good, boss.”

[memurfevur-archive]

m4ngl3 takes moisture from the air, takes whatever's in that, and converts it into energy. m4ngl3 actively does this but it also has a reservoir for when it is in much drier environments and cant rely on the air around it

the red tubes on m4ngl3's neck is full of a specialized coolant that helps in this conversion process. to damage those tubes (say, cut them open) would be detrimental to m4ngl3. it would start to slow, its movements becoming less fluid, and the reservoirs would be used until finally m4ngl3 has no energy at all to function. m4ngl3 would still be alive, but it would have none of the energy required to do most of its internal and external functions

the biggest weakness m4ngl3 has besides that, would be its face/skull, hence the canine-esque mask. while its armored enough to protect from most head trauma, piercing or crushing would end it for sure-- which is big, since it can't really be hurt by most other means because of how the body is designed

[memurfevur-archive]

Thinking about M4NGL3's power source, their ability to go without sleeping, and more

They are able to take moisture from the air and convert it to the kind of energy they need to function, so I guess they sorta work like a de-humidifier? idk i was told that xamidi drones need a power source and ive been struggling to come up with one for awhile, and thats the closest i have for it

anyway, M4NGL3 can also take in extra energy from this process and store it for areas where the air is a little too dry. great for journeys across certain biomes, or if they need a quick boost in case the current energy output is not enough for what theyre doing.

its not the most effective system and sometimes m4ngl3 needs repairs or filters cleaned

[memurfevur-archive]

art warm up i said grumble grumble

[memurfevur-archive]

you know i had to do it to em

[memurfevur-archive]

SPEAKING of the bounty hunter!! Can we get another lil peek at how M4ngl3 is doing :3

People milled and bustled below. Overseers barked orders at the slaves picking grim off the floors and animal hide trophies lining the halls. It was getting well into the night now, not very many hours left before daybreak-- but the shifting moonlight filtering through the windows would never reach the shadows that the drone-hunter waited within.

Wires and tubes wrapped around rafters, and metal claws digging into wood and stone, the mechanical canid watched and recorded its enemies. It observed schedules and patterns, listened in on varied conversations, and overheard grotesque events in other rooms. But it was silent. Still. Apathetic to the world around it, for all it cared about was its target. And so, with eye sockets as black as recesses of void, and as still as a dead man's breath, the M4NGL3 lied in wait for its chosen prey.

And then, the door swung open. The Hidelord marched forward, a frown deeply settled on his lips. He wore his iconic insignia: his expensive looking coat made from troll skin, all of which housed a grisly looking man with scratches on his antlers and a scar running over one eye.

In one hand his fingers were locked around the wrist of a beautiful Purple-blooded woman, smeared in blood and dressed in drapes and rags the finest that any would see in this Gog forbidden realm-- which is to say, not fine at all, but it was nicer than what most Safarans looked. Even beneath bruises and scars, her Vaelari traits outshone them all, making her a pretty price tag for any slaver.

But tonight, she would not have a chance to belong to anyone else.

M4NGL3's carapace trembled, shaking the beast alive and activating the lights in its otherwise inky sockets.

DATA MATCH. TARGET FOUND.