#percy bones

[screamingmadvoid]

This is the octokitten Percy stole off the Aurora, Trixabelle. Trixie for short. She’s his baby goblin child and he adores her.

[the-crew-of-warren]

Babysitting an eight year old vs. babysitting your high injured crewmate - FIGHT!

-Percy

[screamingmadvoid]

A colorized version of my mechsona Percy Bones!

He’s the master at arms for The Pests on the Starship Warren, and his mechanism is his throat and voice.

His backstory is he was a rebel noble on his home planet, against the tyrannical government, when his beloved sold him and his family out. The Dasherys were killed and only Percy escaped, being horrifically mauled by dogs during his attempt to flee. He was saved by a mysterious woman and mechanized, but she couldn’t give him his voice back. Now he communicates through recordings of others words.

[screamingmadvoid]

My eyes fought to stay shut against the bright light as I swiftly woke up with a harsh gasp of air. Wake ups for me tended to be hard and fast, especially the more violent and abrupt the death was. And that last one was a rough one. Getting run over was never fun, no matter how many times I make that joke about getting the license plate. Ralphie always hates when I tell it though, so I’ll never drop it. The only reason I wasn’t making it now was because there was something very, very wrong.

The texture I was lying on was wrong. It wasn’t the rough blacktop of the street, and it definitely wasn’t the leather of the cushions Ursa used in the medbay. It was… softer. With a firmer surface underneath. I slowly crack my eyes open to a familiar periwinkle sky, not a cloud in sight. I realize I’m lying on grass, but not just any grass. This is the clearing Nikki and I spent our summers in. But… this was impossible. Wake ups took a while, but not long enough for us to get from Mistrinda to Ozam. And moreover, this clearing burned with Dashwood Manor.

My creeping sense of unease grew as I took in my surroundings. It was quiet like it had always been, but now it was oppressively silent. It lacked the familiar noise of the pests. We’re loathe to be separated, and we aren’t the quietest bunch. If I can't hear them, something was not right and I was on the verge of panic now.

“Guys-” I called out and immediately slammed a hand to my mouth. That wasn’t the soundbytes I was used to stringing together. That was something I hadn’t heard in millenia, and never thought I’d hear again. Tears threaten to fall as I realized that I just spoke in my own voice for the first time since that fateful day, when everything happened. “I’m dreaming, that’s the only explanation” I said, not wanting to even entertain the alternative.

We knew it was possible, permanently dying, that is. Most of the Mechanisms were gone by this point, fallen for the final time. But we didn’t really think it would happen to us till Leslie. It was supposed to be a routine mutiny, one like any other day. Leslie was yelling about some perceived slight, a moved trinket or a broken mug. It was normal, how we kept track of time. I thought nothing of it beyond ‘oh it must be 10 am’. Everything was as it always was, the yelling, the threats, the gunfire. Nothing out of the ordinary. Leslie fell that time. It wasn’t unheard of, we would just shrug and wait for them to roar back to us in a blaze of fury. But as the hours ticked away, as 10 AM changed to 10 PM, we realized how not routine this mutiny was. Because our captain never made so much as a peep, not a twitch, not a single hint of renewed life. It was then, I think we realized we were on a countdown clock, with an unknown timer on our hearts.

I pinch myself in an attempt to wake up, or ground myself, or… I don’t know. I needed a distraction from the growing panic in my chest. I’d be no good to anyone, least of all myself, if I couldn’t breathe. I get up off the ground and look around, desperate at this point to see any sign of life, to know that I wasn't alone here, wherever this is. As I searched for any evidence of another soul, I thought about the last things I remembered.

It was just a regular rampage. Well, as normal as it could be without Leslie and her inevitable flock of devotees. The whole crew was there, for a change. Ursa finally left her medbay, Eshen crawled out of the vents for once, it was great. I even broke out my favorite rampage dress,all black and roses, and got all dolled up with my pearls. The 11 of us were like a comet, running wild through that city, causing mass mayhem and planet wide panic. It was the most euphoric I had felt since Leslie left us behind.

My mood quickly soured into terror when I saw it though. A truck, headed right for an oblivious Eshen. They didn’t see it. Otherwise I doubt they'd be moving so slow. He was in his Musician form right now, and while I didn't fully understand it and still don’t, I did know that he was squishier in this form. Esh and I may not have always seen eye to eye on everything, but I wouldn't want him to experience what 15,000 kilos felt like going over your water balloon of a body. I guess… i figured if it was anyone else’s time to go, it would be me.

I'm not the most self preservative type, never really was, and being mechanized certainly didn’t help. Why avoid danger when it can’t actually do lasting harm? But now it could. And maybe it was selfish, but i couldn’t stand the thought of losing anyone else. I wouldn’t survive it. The waiting, the constant thought of “this could be the last moment i ever spend with them”. I'm starting to believe it doesn't matter now tho.

Slowly, almost afraid of what I might find, I move my hand to my chest, hoping to hear and feel that strong thump-thump. My senses remain undisturbed however, as the lack of heartbeat seems to drown out everything else. I sink to my knees as the realization hits me: I didn't make it.

‘Oh, bell dragon forgive me,’ I think as the tears begin to flow freely and unrestrained. ‘Let them have lived’ I beg, as though the bell dragon cares, ‘let Eshen have been uninjured, do not make them pay for my mistakes.’ As the sobs and keens foreign to my ears begin increasing in volume, I think of my crew and how they must be taking this. All the gods, please let them forgive me for this, let Nebula keep xemself together and not fall apart, let Ralphie keep us together as long as they can.

As my tears begin to die down for now, I make an oath. I will see them again. Each and everyone. I may have failed this family in this way, but I will be there in whatever way I can.

[screamingmadvoid]

Percy (far left) and his family (rough sketch)

[screamingmadvoid]

A rough sketch of my mechsona Percy

[screamingmadvoid]

A stupid little scene I drew of the pests

(Ralphie belongs to @drowning-seahorse)

[screamingmadvoid]

Percy at a fancy event in the city judging the shit out of Hera’s crumbling marriage