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twistedtummies2 · 8 months

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Glamour - Chapter 1 (Trade)

This is the first part of a four-part trade story with @hooter-n-company (a.k.a. Rchlis). She is making some very special art for me, and in return, she asked me to write a story to introduce a Twisted Wonderland OC she's sort of had stewing in the background for a while: his name is Taoka Latronis, and he is based on Tamatoa from "Moana." I absolutely LOVE Tamatoa. He's a fun villain, and a surprising crush (albeit a somewhat mild one, for me, personally). Rchlis wanted to create a character for the TW universe based on the big glam crab, and I certainly wasn't going to say no. The advantage of this being a trade, instead of a commission, was I could go and make a much longer and more detailed story, in return for much more detailed and elaborate artwork, without either of us having to pay exorbitant amounts that frankly neither of us could afford. Win-win. XD This was a LOT of fun to make, and Taoka is one of my favorite OCs I've gotten to write for that I DIDN'T create myself, if not my favorite (at least as far as TW goes, I should clarify). Hopefully a lot of you like him, too. ;) Like with other stories of this nature, the other three parts will be uploaded one a day over the coming few days. So be on the lookout! WARNING: THIS PARTICULAR SECTION DOES NOT INCLUDE ANY KINKS DIRECTLY. HOWEVER, THERE ARE IMPLICATIONS OF VORE AND OTHER KINKS SPRINKLED THROUGHOUT THE FIRST THREE PARTS. DON'T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON'T READ.

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PLIPP. This was the sound of a gold coin, being flipped deftly up to the water, which replaced the sky in the strange, unfathomable Realm of Monsters. Light filtered down through a tunnel-like portal that led up to the sea above, and into the chamber in which you were now being held captive. “Held,” incidentally, was the most accurate word, for you were quite literally in the grip of one of the most feared and reviled monsters in Lalotai. The Giant Crab smirked down at you, the blue-green eyes filled with malicious excitement and no small amount of vainglorious pride. The pink and purple claw that held you felt tougher than any sea stone, contrasted by the soft, supple-looking flesh visible around the crab’s strangely humanoid mouth and thick, fat neck; you had never expected an arthropod to look plump and pudgy, but this one somehow found a way. You also had never expected one to have a good singing voice…but if there was one thing this creature deserved to be proud of, that was probably it. “Well, Tamatoa hasn’t always been this glam!” the crab admitted, tossing his head with a sneer. “I was a drab little crab once…” The sneer became a grin. You shuddered at the sight of the crab’s huge teeth: they were very square, but also very sharp, like ivory guillotine blades. They were also disgustingly filthy, covered not just in a fine yellowish film, but what appeared to be barnacles. “Now I know I can be happy as a clam,” winked the Crab, and lifted you a little higher as he turned himself about, showing off his shell. “Because I’m beautiful, baby!” While the crab preened, smugly admiring the hoard of gold that had gotten fused to his shell over time, you nervously glanced towards another part of the giant monster’s cave. You saw the Demigod duck down out of sight…but you only just had time to register his presence before the crab’s free pincer - the one not holding you - suddenly swung in and tapped at your chest. Well, one says “tapped,” and to the crab, it probably was just a tap…but to you, it felt like you’d been jabbed in the diaphragm with a bat. HARD. You grunted in a windless, pained way as the crab blithely kept singing, swaying its huge head to a beat only it could seem to hear.

“Did your granny say, ‘listen to your heart: be who you are on the inside’?” the beast teased…then grabbed both your arms with its pincers, and cruelly tugged on them, making you grit your teeth as it felt like it might easily tear each limb from its socket. “I need three words to tear her argument apart: YOUR. GRANNY. LIED.” You yelped as, with newfound energy, the Giant Crab began to spin around, dancing about his lair joyously. You clung desperately to the claw that held you as you were swung about as a result. The light that shone from the water tunnel above caused the golden coins and other treasures upon his shelled back to glisten and shimmer, sparkling yellow light reflecting and refracting onto the walls of the undersea cave. “I’d rather be Shiny!” sang the Giant Crab. “Like the treasure of a sunken pirate wreck! Scrub the deck, and make it look Shiny!” The crab grinned evilly, and drew a claw across his fat throat, making you grimace and shiver. “I will sparkle like a wealthy woman’s neck - crrrk! - just a sec.” The crab then looked up towards the funnel-like passage that led into his lair from above. You looked up as well, and saw the shadowy silhouettes of many silver fish, spiraling around the opening to his hideaway, within a palace of giant, weathered old shells. “Don’tcha know? Fish are dumb, dumb, dumb! They chase anything that glitters!” The crab rolled his eyes as he looked at you with a conspiratorial sort of smile. “Beginners,” he snorted, then looked up again, with eager anticipation. “Oh! And here they come, come, come to the brightest thing that glitters…!” Sure enough, right on cue, the whole school of fish suddenly dived downward…and seconds later, dozens of foolish marine creatures fell through the bottom of the ocean, and into the open space that led down towards the Giant Crab…who awaited them with an open maw and an empty stomach. SCHWOLMPH! In one terrific bite, the giant decapod snarfed up all of the fish at once. It moaned deeply, a look of purest pleasure on its face as its cheeks bulged and it grunted through a full mouth: “Mmmm…fish dinners!” GUUULLLP! You swore you could FEEL the force of that powerful swallow, as the crab-like behemoth gulped down all of the fish in one go. If you looked closely, you could see the ripple-like movements along its neck as it sent all of the swimming things down to its belly… …Then, your blood ran cold, as the crab refocused its attention on you, holding you up high over its head. There was a wild, wicked intensity to its gaze…something unhinged, primal, sadistic…and utterly ravenous. “I just love free food,” the crab crooned. “And YOU look like seafood…”

You shook your head desperately and scrambled to try and escape the claw holding you, as the Giant Crab licked his fat, thick, plump lips with an equally fat, thick, plump, purplish tongue. Then the ghastly mouth of the crab-beast opened. The monster’s maw was mottled purple and pink, the slimy, slippery interior sloping back into a pitch-dark void, from which a terrible rumble came… “N-no! No! NO!” you screamed at the top of your lungs…but if the monster was even listening to your frantic protests, it clearly didn’t care. Or, worse yet, perhaps it did care…because it enjoyed them. You supposed it didn’t matter, for a moment later, the pincer that now seemed like a protector to you opened its grasp. You howled as you plunged headlong into the mouth of the beast, arms and legs flailing as you tried to swim through the air. Nothing could prevent or slow your fall, and your final wail was lost as you were quite literally swallowed up by the darkness- “AH!” You yelped and jolted awake, eyes snapping wide open. Your expression swiftly changed from a slightly red-faced expression that mixed fear with blushing anticipation…to an almost bored look, as you saw the familiar sight of the ceiling overhead. You groaned and ran a hand over your face, mumbling sourly under your breath: you didn’t need to sit up or look around to know you were still in Ramshackle Dorm, and that all you had seen was a vision in a dream. “Well then,” you grumbled, as you quivered with goosebumps from the alarming detail. “I guess not even sleeping pills work anymore…greeeaaat…”

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“Nya…you okay there, Minion?” Grim trotted alongside you, cocking his head. His turquoise eyes showed a rare light of concern as he looked up at you. You could only yawn and shake your head heavily in response as you slumped along through the halls of Night Raven. You could FEEL the bags beneath your eyes. “No,” you droned, and tried to shake off the sleep, but to no avail. Every time you had passed out again throughout the night, you were brought back to the same dream. Each time, you found yourself hovering over the abyss of the monster’s mouth…then shocked away as you tumbled into the belly of the beast. You would have growled like a lion, if you had been anything close to Leona’s level: you weren’t sure what part was more irritating. The fact that the dream had been so confusingly insistent…or the fact it always ended at the GOOD part… You groaned and rubbed at your forehead. You were too tired to even be blushy about that…life freaking sucked sometimes. Seriously. “Maybe we should stop at the cafeteria for some coffee,” smirked Grim. “You look like you’re gonna fall flat on your face! Ha Ha!” “Your concern is touching,” you grunted, then gave a weak smile. “But you do have a point. Maybe some coffee would help, or at least some tea…” Grim grinned and licked his lips, swishing his trident tail. You rolled your eyes; that reaction told you everything: clearly the offer to go to the cafeteria had been given more out of the cat-like imp’s desire to fill his own stomach than any worries he had about you. “Just a quick stop at the cafeteria,” you agreed. “We don’t want to be late for potion-making class, right?” “Fiiiine,” pouted Grim, who clearly had been hoping for a longer stay, no doubt for the sake of more food. The flames that swirled from his ears crackled as he flicked one of those audial receptors upwards and raised an eyebrow. “You have what Crewel told us to bring, right, Minion?” You nodded and patted the breast pocket of your uniform. “Two Lanternblossoms,” you reported. “Got ‘em in here in a bag.” “Be careful not to lose ‘em,” Grim warned. “Getting them wasn’t easy, y’know!” “Of course I know: I’M the one who had to get them, while you just watched.” “Of course! THAT is because YOU’RE the Minion, and I’M the boss,” Grim said, snootily. You shook your head wearily, a tired smile on your face. Some things never changed. Your thoughts were rudely interrupted when, turning a corner of the hall, you bumped into something…or, rather, someone. You hadn’t been hurrying, but you supposed perhaps the other party was, and you were too groggy to get out of the way in time. Whatever the case, you let out an “oof!” (which was matched by the person you’d bumped into), and swayed on your feet, staggering back. The impact hadn’t been hard enough to knock you over, but it was enough to throw you off balance. “Nya! Watch it!” snapped Grim, jumping out of the way, as if afraid one of the larger figures might fall on top of him. “Sorry,” you mumbled out in a slurred sort of voice. “Hey, hey, it’s all good, babe!” the voice of the other party replied. It was a flamboyant, high-flying sort of voice, with a sort of eternal edge that sounded…you searched for a word, and “slinky” was all that came to your sleep-addled brain.

You stiffened suddenly and sharply as the other party suddenly took hold of you, trying to help you regain balance - “Here, lemme get you back on track, heh heh…” - and took a look at the newcomer. They seemed to be of fairly average height and build, and dressed - at the moment - in a typical school uniform. A strange sort of smell, though not an unpleasant one, seemed to surround the stranger: it was like the fine scent of a fresh sea breeze, very soothing and yet somewhat briny. It reminded you of the scent that seemed to surround Azul and his cronies at different times of the day…however, the deep blue-violet hue of the vest and armband the young man wore informed you he was from Pomefiore, not Octavinelle. The blazer was open; the vest was fully buttoned up, and the shirt tucked in, but they wore no tie and kept the top button of their shirt unclasped. In short, their demeanor was not quite as loose as Floyd, nor as uptight as Azul or Jade; it was some new mode in-between. Before their uniform details, however, you first took stock of the student’s countenance. He had dark skin, similar in hue to that of Kalim, but with purple eyes the color of twin amethysts. Purple eyeliner accented the irises, and a matching hue was painted thinly over his lips, giving him a somewhat androgynous, “Glam Goth” appearance. Golden earrings dangled from his earlobes, and his hair was colored the same shade as his eyes; whether it was dyed or simply natural in its unusual coloration was hard to say. It was spiky on top and along the back, but sheared short on the sides and styled with multicolored streaks. Two cowlicks sprouted from the front of his scalp, vaguely resembling antennae. A golden necklace dangled about his throat. On his left hand, he wore four golden rings - one for each hand minus the thumb - and a golden wristwatch. Curiously, his right hand - and only his right hand - was covered by a purple leather glove. This was the hand he used to brush you fastidiously off. “There now,” said the young man, and grinned. His teeth seemed a bit longer and sharper than most people’s, but not quite the shark-like grin certain other students had. “You okay there, babe?” “Uh…y-yeah, I’m fine,” you stuttered, a bit startled by all this, and by the term of endearment chosen. “Sorry for running into you like that…” “Aww, don’t worry about it. Takes a lot more than that to ruin this face,” answered the other student, with an almost teasing smile as he gestured to his dolled-up physiognomy. “Who are you?” asked Grim, curiously. “Name’s Taoka,” the Pomefiore student said, then smirked. “Heh…lemme guess, you’re the duo from Ramshackle? The eels talk about you two all the time. Especially Floyd.” “Should we be flattered or terrified?” you replied blandly. “Try both,” chuckled Taoka, and arched one violet-hued eyebrow. “Y’know, yer cuter than I expected.” “I am NOT cute!” Grim snarled, hackles rising as he stomped one foot petulantly. “How come nobody gets that through their skulls?!” “You’re adorable, little guy, but it wasn’t you I was talkin’ about,” said Taoka smoothly. You flushed as you realized his expression was fixed upon you, a seductive gleam in his purple eyes. “Well, uh…thank you, I think?” you said with a nervous little laugh. “You should thank me. I don’t just call anybody cute, seafood,” said Taoka, eyes half-lidded as he continued to smirk almost seductively.

You felt the warmth in your cheeks increase, even as you felt mild confusion rise. “S-Seafood?” you peeped. “Heh. The Octopus and the Twins aren’t the only ones from under the sea,” winked Taoka in response, then lifted his gloved hand in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry, sweetheart: I’m not gonna eatcha…” He suddenly stepped closer. He wasn’t much taller than you were, but somehow, he suddenly felt like he was towering over you. “Unless you WANT me to,” whispered the strange young man, showing off those sharp teeth once more. You gulped nervously. Grim frowned, looking between you and the teasing new student. With a slight growl, the little monster jogged over and tugged on your pant leg. “Come on!” he urged, crossly. “Or did you forget about the coffee and food already?” “Food?” you whispered…then shook your head, snapping out of it. “Oh, uh…right! Right, um…G-Grim and I have to get to the cafeteria before heading to class, so, uh…see you later, alright?” Taoka bowed his head and stepped aside, letting you pass. You smiled, thinking that perhaps you’d just made a new friend here at the college, as you walked past him with Grim, once more ready to continue on your way… “You may wanna take a detour on your way to Crewel’s, though,” Taoka’s voice called out to you. “Nya? Why’s that?” Grim asked, turning around…then froze. “Hey…HEY! MINION!” You turned fast at the sound of frustrated alarm in Grim’s voice…and the smile fell from your face as you saw what had worried him. Taoka’s smile had become sneaky and almost sinister. He he lifted his ungloved hand…and revealed the familiar sight of a small plastic bag, which contained the two Lanternblossoms. You patted your breast pocket, and quickly realized he had picked it at some point while brushing you off! Scowling, you looked back angrily. “Give that back!” you demanded. “Why?” asked Taoka, oh-so-innocently. “Can’t find time to get more of this?” “As a matter of fact, no, I can’t! Those plants are NOT easy to find!” you exclaimed. “I know. That’s why I want ‘em,” grinned Taoka, and looked at the items in the bag with a strange sort of interest. “Look at the way they sparkle, too…” “You better give them back!” shouted your catlike companion. “We need those for an assignment!” “Not my problem,” shrugged the flamboyant fellow, waving his free hand about airily. “Guess you’ll have to hope Crewel’s in a good mood, babe.” “Why, you…!” snarled Grim, and yowled as he dropped to all fours and bounded towards the sneakthief. He pounced through the air…and at the same time, the purple-haired youth’s free hand stretched out, fingers outspread. He muttered something - an incantation, you presumed - under his breath…sensing trouble, you rushed forward to try and help Grim… …But at that moment - ZAM! - there was a brilliant flash of golden light. You heard Taoka laugh tauntingly as you were blinded by the sudden bolt. You staggered back and fell against the wall; all you could see was a yellow haze, as if the whole world had been saturated with metallic golden sparkles. You felt dizzy, and couldn’t think straight. You clutched your head as you heard the faint yelp from Grim as he - equally blinded - flopped onto the floor uselessly. After a few moments, the world cleared and showed its true colors again, and the swimming sensation that had come over your head dissipated. You stepped away from the wall, and then hurried towards Grim, who was just sitting up from the floor.

“You okay?” you asked. “Nya…I think so,” nodded the cat-like creature, and frowned, looking around. “Where’d that creep go?” “I dunno,” you sighed dismally. “Whatever he did, it distracted us long enough for him to get away…” “Awww, man,” groaned Grim, ears dipping downward. “Does this mean we’re gonna get in trouble?” “Maybe not,” you said, with a hopeful sort of smile. “I mean…it wasn’t OUR fault we lost those Lanternblossoms. Maybe…maybe Professor Crewel will give us a chance.” Grim blinked…then smiled back. “Yeah! He can’t be mad at us for something that’s not our fault!” he cheered, then grinned wickedly. “Heh heh…maybe he’ll even go find that dumb thief and put THEM through the ringer!” You chuckled weakly as you helped Grim to his feet, and the two of you hurried on your way again. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you had a feeling every word you’d spoken was a false hope.

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You were very right: every word you’d spoken was, indeed, a false hope. Yourself and Grim grumbled in chorus as you worked together to sweep and mop up the floor to the alchemy lab. Crewel had NOT been understanding: you supposed you couldn’t blame him TOO much. After all, he had no PROOF that what you said about having the Lanternblossoms stolen from you was true. And even if he had, it wasn’t exactly Night Raven policy to “forgive incompetence.” However, he had given the two of you something of a redeeming opportunity: if the two of you agreed to clean up the lab after classes were done that day, he would NOT give you an automatic zero on the assignment, and a chance to try it again in a week’s time, for a lower grade. Some credit seemed better than no credit at all, so - with the fashionable educator holding you both over the proverbial barrel - you saw no alternative but to agree. “If I ever see that creep with the purple eyes again, I’m biting his ankles,” growled Grim. “Aim higher,” you droned sourly. “You might hit something that does PERMANENT damage.” A soft chuckle interrupted you both. “It’s not usual to hear you speaking so aggressively, Prefect,” a crisp, cool sort of voice observed. “I’m guessing today hasn’t been one of your best.” The pair of you paused to look up at the source of the familiar vocals. They belonged to an equally familiar figure - tall, stately, and slightly androgynous in appearance - with blonde hair that was dyed pale purple at the ends, and eyes similar in hue to the thieving rascal you’d met before. While those eyes had been filled with a sort of hungry, sultry heat…these were just as cold and cutting as shards of colored glass. You stiffened immediately, feeling not unlike a soldier reporting to their commander as the owner of these gemstone eyes strode grandly into the laboratory. “Good evening, Vil,” you smiled politely, then cocked your head. “Do you need something from here? I can help you find it, if you’re working on a new poison or something.” “Just don’t use it on us!” piped up Grim. Vil sniffed. “Please, I wouldn’t waste anything like that on you, little potato,” he responded dryly to Grim’s statement, then looked back at you, crossing his arms. His expression was even and calm. “I actually need your help, Prefect. I couldn’t find you at your dorm, and after speaking to the Headmage and Professor Crewel in the main office, they directed me here.” “I see,” you said, and put the mop you were holding to one side before pulling out a chair and sitting down. “Well, what’s the problem?”

Grim put aside the scrub brush he had been using and hopped up onto the table behind you. Vil remained standing, pacing slightly as he spoke. Once again, his movements were almost militant, reminding you of a captain addressing their crew. “There is a music tournament coming up here on Sage’s Island. Both Royal Sword and Night Raven will be competing, among others. It’s a bit similar to the VDC, except that in this case, it’s being held in one of the towns, not on either campus…and, in this case, I’m not going to be performing for the Event.” “Is Neige going to perform?” you couldn’t help but ask. Vil paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steeling sort of breath. “Very thankfully, he is not,” Vil answered through an exhalation, then went on. “As a matter of fact, both of us have been asked to act as judges for the Event, along with an instructor from each school. Professor Crewel has been chosen to represent Night Raven, along with myself.” “And Royal Sword?” “That is not my concern,” Vil answered, his voice slow, deliberate, and clearly emphasizing each consonant. Realizing you had probably hit a nerve somehow, you lifted your hands in an apologetic, placating sort of way. Vil nodded to show all was well, then went on, pacing once again: “The contestants will all be soloists. Some will be playing live music and singing, others will be performing to pre-arranged tracks. Regardless, the four of us will be judging them by a standard rubric, and the winner will receive a special prize, which is to be provided by Royal Sword.” “How come they always get to have the fun?” meowed Grim, petulantly. “Can I take a wild guess as to why you’re here?” you asked, ignoring the not-feline’s complaints. “If you wish,” replied Vil, folding his hands behind his back authoritatively. “You brought up the fact this event is similar to the Voice and Dance Competition. Back then, you and the Headmage assigned us to be the Stage Managers. Do you need us to do the same thing for this Event?” “To put it bluntly, yes,” Vil replied…and a rare flicker of vulnerability flashed in his eyes. “Considering you were instrumental not only in keeping order during the rehearsals and performance, but also in solving certain…ISSUES that came up…” “Like somebody yelling they were the ugliest old hag in the world and nobody should look at them?” Grim mocked, somewhat meanly. “Those kindsa issues?” Vil narrowed his eyes dangerously. “I will feed you to Kingscholar, Grim, if you say anything remotely similar to those words again,” he answered icily. Grim paled and hid behind the table. “Ignore him,” you advised Vil, then smiled. “If you need my help behind the scenes, I’ll be happy to give it to you. Maybe if we’re lucky, Professor Crewel will give us some extra credit for the assistance.” “I wouldn’t count on it,” chuckled Vil, and his smile became mildly grateful. “I appreciate the easy cooperation, Prefect. I was a little worried, after previous incidents, I might have to twist your arm.”

“Please, don’t even use that phrase figuratively,” you shuddered. “I’ve SEEN you twist people’s arms, I’m amazed a lot of them still HAVE arms after that…” Vil’s smile became a proud smirk. “I dunno…I mean, the Great Grim is a busy awesome mage!” meowed your fire-eared friend. “What’s in it for us if we agree?” “Aside from my gratitude, the Headmage has also promised to pay you both for your services,” Vil replied. Grim’s eyes lit up at the prospect of money. Money, of course, meant food. And food, naturally, was really all it took to make Grim happy. “Well, what are we waiting for?!” he almost squeaked out excitedly. “If that’s the case, I definitely don’t see any reason to say no,” you said. “It’s something different in the schedule…and after all, a day surrounded by music and song? What could possibly be bad about that?” There was an awkward silence. “...I might have just jinxed it, huh?” you peeped. “I pray you have not, potato,” intoned Vil, only half-sarcastically. “I pray that you have not.”

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The competition Vil spoke of was called the Sage’s Solo Showdown, or Triple S. As stage manager for this event, your job was to make sure all of the performers went onstage at the right time for their cues, and that the people working the tech booth were on top of things. (Most of them were students from Royal Sword; thankfully, they had much less difficulty working with a Night Raven College member than you suspected the other way around might have been.) Grim had, at first, pouted over how the job seemed boring - just walking around with a clipboard, in his mind - but the reminder of how much tuna you could buy with Crowley’s offer quickly shut him up. The contest would begin in the early afternoon on a Friday. The location was not at Royal Sword, nor at Night Raven; instead, a “neutral zone” had been chosen in a town on Sage’s Island, where many of the locals lived. It was an indoor ampitheater, smaller than anything on either of the college campuses…but sufficient for the purposes of the contest, which was also smaller in scale than anything either campus would likely conjure up. This was why it was somewhat surprising that, on the day of the contest, things were pretty darn packed. With the smaller accommodations, you had expected a smaller turnout. “Nya…I guess this is what happens when you have both Neige and Vil involved,” Grim piped up, as the two of you marched along through the backstage areas, checking on the contestants. Each person participating in the contest had been given their own dressing room. It was still morning, and you were doing routine check-ins on every room. You didn’t know the names of each contestant participating; they had been marked with call numbers, which you would use to check on each participant. It made things more efficient that way, or so Vil said. You trusted his judgment. “I guess you’re right,” you said, in a slightly delayed response to Grim’s observation. “I doubt it’s Professor Crewel getting this much attention…and not to sell the contestants short, but I don’t think any of them would be getting so much love otherwise. That’s probably why they called on them.” Grim just shrugged, the tiny creature just jogging alongside you, swishing his trident tail this way and that as he glanced about the backstage areas, checking the doors to the dressing rooms. “Where to next, Minion?” he asked. You checked the clipboard and named the contestant number and the room they were staying in - the former was labeled as simply 23, and the latter was 116. You had actually checked in on the room earlier, but the competitor who was set to occupy it had yet to show up. It was time to make another quick check, before the opening ceremony, and make sure all was going smoothly. So far, none of the contestants had given you any trouble: some of them were people you knew, others were strangers till that time, but none of them had been problematic. For one thing, they were all focused on practicing and prepping one last-minute time before their performances. As you approached Room 116, you could hear that the contestant within had arrived, and was doing much the same; the sound of a guitar being strummed and tuned up could be detected through the ajar door. You supposed you could have cut things off there and simply made a few marks in your paperwork, but - for formality’s sake - you decided to check in personally. So, you knocked on the door, and called out “Stage Management, is everyone decent?”

A voice from the other side answered, “I don’t know about that, but I’m dressed.” You frowned and glanced towards Grim. His expression matched your own. Both of you thought that voice sounded oddly familiar, but neither of you were sure why. You shrugged it off, pushed open the door… …And soon found out the reason when you saw the figure seated at the dressing room mirror inside. “You!” Your exclamation was acknowledged with a lifted head, and a wicked sort of grin. Two uncomfortably familiar purple eyes gleamed deviously on a dark, heavily made-up face. “Well, hey there, babe!” crooned Taoka. “Fancy meeting you here.” You weren’t sure what to say…partially because you were a bit taken aback by the appearance of the Pomefiore student before you. He looked even more flamboyant than you remembered when you first met him: at the time, he’d still had the purple, madly-styled hair, the golden earrings and bangles, and the dolled-up face, of course…but he’d been dressed in a common school uniform. Which was certainly fancy enough, but NOTHING compared to the wild, vibrant ensemble he was now garbed in. The purple-eyed pickpocket wore a long, golden jacket with plum-colored lining, which stretched down past the back of his knees. Beneath this was what looked like a pink and purple tie-dyed shirt, with the emblem of a crab stenciled upon it. His pants were blue, with strange spiral patterns stitched into their length; a similar pattern adorned his belt buckle: the buckle reminded you of something you had seen in a textbook on magical artifacts, but you couldn’t recall what it was. Some sort of “stone heart,” or something. The buckle was bright and brassy, and attached to a matching metallic-colored belt. Bright purple boots with golden lining covered his feet, matching the purple glove on one of his bejeweled hands. You heard Grim let out a strange sound, and looked down at him. The little monster was scrubbing at his turquoise eyes and blinking them repeatedly. “Something wrong?” you asked. “I think my eyes are about to start bleeding,” Grim blandly replied, referring to Taoka’s arraignment. You would have snickered, but Taoka beat you to it. “I know, I know,” he said with a drawling sigh, running his fingers through his spiky hair, as he put the guitar he was strumming to one side. “It’s hard to take it all in. So much fabulousness in one room MUST be too much for yer little eyes to handle. I’ll give ya a minute to soak it up.”

Grim just growled irritatedly in response. You couldn’t blame him. The smug, supercilious smile the over-glitzed youth flashed was infuriating…partially, you had to admit, because of how handsome he was, and how he had teased you last time. Thankfully, it was easy to look past those points and focus on your annoyance; you had not by any means forgotten how he’d spoiled things for you. Still, you had a job to do, so you tried to stay civil. “Are you contestant twenty-three?” you asked, as politely as possible. “Is this contestant twenty-three’s room?” Taoka returned, with a teasing grin. “It’s supposed to be,” you replied. “Then yeah, that’s me, babe,” winked Taoka, and his eyes roamed over you once more. A rumble came from his chest. “You look even tastier dressed all official like that…” “Remind me to thank you when I don’t have business to focus on,” you replied, as primly as you could manage. Taoka seemed to pout. “Awww, now, no need to get all uptight,” he cooed, and grinned anew as he stood up from his place, hands casually tucked into his pockets as he swaggered forward. “Listen, I think you an’ I got off on the wrong claw…” “The wrong what?” muttered Grim. Both of you ignored him. “...I just can’t help myself when I see somethin’ shiny an’ special,” Taoka went on, putting on his most innocent smile. You weren’t fooled for a second. “Like Lanternblossoms, or coins of gold…” He stretched his gloved hand towards you. “...Or a good meal.” You smacked his hand away. You REFUSED to blush. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you sneered. “Everyone at Night Raven knows who you are, and WHAT you are.” “That being?” Taoka’s grin now showed off his oh-so-slightly-sharper-than-they-should-have-been teeth. “A snack,” he hissed with relish, and licked those chompers just to show off. “I told you, Azul and the Leeches aren’t the only sea monsters around here.” Deciding you had enough of this drivel, you turned to leave the room, planning to head back without a word. You saw no reason to encourage the young man (whatever he really was) with attention. Unfortunately, he seemed to determined to get it; Grim yelped as a booted foot fell into the space between you and the imp, and Taoka barred your path, placing one hand on his dressing room door, the other resting on his wide, well-curved hips. “I’d be happy to put a snack like you in your place sometime,” he whispered. “All you’ve gotta do is ask.” You bit your lip. You knew you were blushing now, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making it greater. “I haven’t gotten this far in life, or in school, by just ALLOWING myself to be eaten,” you replied, coldly. “And I wouldn’t be so casual about it here, if I were you.” “Why not?” Taoka asked, raising one eyebrow. He seemed amused. You gave him a daring sort of smirk in return. “Because, as stage manager, if a contestant is causing too much trouble, I can easily have them suspended from the contest at any time,” you replied, smoothly. Taoka’s smarmy smile instantly disappeared.

“You’re bluffing.” “Oh, no,” you said. “Not a bluff at all. All I have to do is tell one of the judges and the coordinator - your Housewarden happens to be both this year - and if they agree with me…” You made a shooing gesture with one hand. Taoka glared. His gloved fist clenched. You glanced down and noticed that one of his fingers seemed to curl slightly less than the rest…a random and minor odd detail you chose to dismiss for now. “I could change into my true form right now and eat you up,” threatened the golden-clad creep. “You wouldn’t be able to throw me out then, would you?” “No,” you agreed, quite casually. “But I think you’d have a hard time explaining where I went to anybody, and if my assistant stage managers found out, you’d still have issues. The way I see it, you eating me causes you more problems than you simply deciding to be civil for a change.” Taoka’s teeth were bared in a snarl. The snarl became a vicious sort of smile. He was fidgeting slightly. “If this competition didn’t mean so much to me,” he whispered dangerously, “You’d be halfway into my stomach right now. You should know that.” You just shrugged with a cheery smile. “As soon as this is over,” he went on, darkly, “I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born.” You made a show of yawning. “I’ve had to deal with a lion, a hyena, a werewolf, two psychotic eel-men, a greedy cephalopod, an ogre, a naga, an ink monster, a bug boy, and a very loud crocodile fairy. You’re going to need to try a LOT harder to convince me you’re worth getting worried about,” you said, intentionally mimicking the airy tones of the bullying thief. One of Taoka’s eyes twitched. “What makes you think they’re any better than me?” he growled. Somehow, you sensed you’d struck a nerve. “I didn’t say they were,” you replied…then leaned close and whispered vengefully, “But I was thinking it.” Taoka seethed with fury. Grim just grinned. “I’ll send one of the Assistant SMs later to give you your cue,” you said sweetly, and waved as you cheerfully left the room. “Keep practicing, ‘babe!’ I think you’ll need it!” Grim followed you out. He didn’t start laughing until Taoka slammed the door, and angry guitar string plucks could be heard from inside the room.

To Be Continued in Part 2…

#my writing #trade #fanfic #kink fic #chapter 1 #glamour #disney #twisted wonderland #implied vore #oc #taoka #taoka latronis #not my oc #vil #vil schoenheit #grim #tamatoa #moana

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silver-chasm · 3 years

Text

A week ago, I made these icons of all my fursonas with all these pride flags (cause they're all trans lol). Two have a few extra flags/symbols on them, representing me

Two of the symbols you see here aren't lgbt ones. I'm not saying that what they represent should be part of the lgbt community, just that they're just as much a part of me as my queer identity

An explanation of who my fursonas are and what the flags are under the cut. I tried to be brief but some of these are a bit lengthy

1. Toxic Chasm

They're my main fursona (and the namesake of this blog). E is something called a Monsuno Sapien, a human mutated by alien essence (the species comes from the Monsuno series). She is me but more grounded and more at peace than what I was when I created him. Despite the grotesque and intimidating appearance, xe is compassionate and gentle. Chasm means a lot to me

The flags/symbols:

The bandana - genderqueer:

Genderqueer is a term that encompasses anyone who not only fall outside of the binary but also gender nonconforming people (those who "queer" their gender)

Chasm is genderqueer, partly because they contain the colours of the flag. Ze also challenges the idea of anthropomorphism with hir existence, much like how I seem to challenge the gender binary with my own existence

The garland - bigender

Bigender people have two genders. These two genders can be binary or nonbinary. A bigender individual may experience both of their genders simultaneously or shift between the two

In my case, I'm a man and a demiwoman at the same time ^-^

The hearts - bisexual and asexual

Bisexual is when you're sexually attracted to more than one gender. Asexual is when you don't experience sexual attraction. Asexuals may also still experience romantic attraction

Biromantic asexuals, like me, are physically unable to experience sexual attraction but are able to experience romantic attraction to more than one gender

The infinity symbol - neurodivergence

One of the non LGBT symbols. Neurodivergent people are those with neurodevelopmental conditions (such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, etc) and mental health conditions (such as BPD, bipolarity, OCD, etc) and similar conditions, like schizophrenia. The infinity symbol is prominently used by autistic people, representing both the diversity of autism and neurodivergence

I'm 90% sure that I'm autistic. The other 10% is my anxiety keeping me in check

2. Korong

She is the fursona who I've had the longest (and was my primary fursona before creating Chasm). They're a giant monstrous dropbear with squid tentacles coming from her back and a second mouth on their belly. She is an absolute glutton. They are also the kind of being who would gloat about her power before trying to devour you

The flags:

The bandana - demigirl

Demigirls feel a partial but not complete connection to being a girl or woman. It is a nonbinary identity

Korong represented a past version of myself. Naturally, as I realised more about myself, she would change with me. They were never really "womanly", more monstrous than anything else

The flowers - a former vore pride flag

No, you didn't misread. This is the other non-lgbt symbol. Vorarephilia (shortened to vore) is a fetish where pleasure is derived from the idea of one being eating another (eg. snake eating a mouse, a giant holding someone in their mouth, etc). It's quite broad and typically fantastical in nature. The colours you see there belonged to a flag designed by a user here on tumblr, a genuine attempt at creating a pride symbol for vorarephiles. It wasn't a flag used outside of here. The creator has since deleted the post describing the flag, almost effectively wiping it from the internet

Korong is an embodiment of my vorarephilia. Her monstrous appearance also reflects a deep-seated shame toward this part of me I've had for years (and all for what? Strange thoughts?)

When I saw that flag and what it meant, I guess it gave me permission to feel something else towards this part of me. On top of the, the creator was reblogging vore positivity posts and posts where people were using their flag and being proud

For the longest time I thought there was something wrong with me. They showed that it's okay to be like this

Originally, I was going to draw the flag itself. I pivoted when I found that the original post (and the positivity posts) had been deleted. I drew it as hyacinths (flowers that represent grief and sincerity) because, as silly as it seems, I was dismayed that the flag and the little, safe, accepting corner of the internet had vanished. After all, what is left is a blue and purple symbol of mockery, with people disgusted that someone would think like that

I'm tired of feeling shame. As I said before, they're just strange thoughts that I cannot control. Nothing more

3. Hognose

They're a friendly Goodra, a slug dragon Pokemon. Much like the snake they're named after, Hognose has an upturned snout and a forked tongue. They're quite the skilled baker, with their favourite recipe being apple pie. They like cooking for their friends

The flag:

The bandana - agender

Agender people lack a gender, have a neutral or indefinable gender or don't identify with the concept of gender

Hognose doesn't have a gender. I forgot to give them one when creating them. Their gender expression does lean somewhat to femininity

4. Lantern

They're a baki, a goomba-like enemy from the Drawn to Life series. Technically, they've existed longer than Korong but I never considered them as a fursona. They were the mascot of my old blog thelanternwielder. They're a quiet being, tending to watch from a distance. Their eyes can cast light when its dark. They don't mind being carried by their handle (just don't swing them around too much)

The flag:

The bandana - nonbinary

Nonbinary people are those whose gender identity falls outside the man/woman binary. It's an umbrella identity, as there are many ways of not fitting in the binary

Lantern is another fursona I forgot to give a concrete gender to. And when I remembered, it didn't really make sense to gender them. They've always been a little bit unknown and mysterious, so their gender is vague and undefined to me

5. Aster

They're a fantail centipede/bee hybrid from space. Their hive lives in a moon above a resource abundant planet they collect and harvest from. Aster was one of the workers who became curious about what was beyond their planet and moon hive. So, they left and became a vagabond explorer among the stars

The flags:

On the left - agender

As it was stated, agender can mean 'genderless' and it can refer to those who don't identify with the concept of gender. Aster falls into the latter category as gender is a bizarre and foreign concept to them

On the right - intersex

Intersex people are those who were born with variation in sex characteristics that are 'atypical' from male and female sex characteristics. This can manifest in a number of ways, as sex is made up of several components. Intersex people can have any gender identity

In Aster's case, they are completely sexless. Their anatomy does not conform to the 'typical' sexes of humans (male and female). They are typical for their species, as many workers tend to be sexless

6. Hugs

He is a spotted hyena pyromancer who dances with fire. He's all about having fun and showing off his skill. He's easygoing and relaxed. His power comes from cinnabar he's imbued with

The flag:

The bandana - transgender

Being transgender is not identifying with the gender assigned to you at birth. Contrary to what some may assume, this does include nonbinary people (what do you think the white stripe in the flag represents?)

Hugs is trans guy. He's the only one here who has a binary gender

7. Alezan

He's the only child among my fursonas and the only one who was designed by someone else. They were designed by chibitacolord (here on tumblr!) He's an elfish fox child whose design is based on the raposa from Drawn to Life. Alezan mostly lives in the woods by themself, proclaiming himself to be 'the prince of the woods'. They're quite mischievous and playful. He loves flowers. They would be a florist if he was older

The flag:

The garland - genderflux

This is when the intensity of a particular gender changes. It can be considered a type of genderfluidity where the gender changes between something and nothing

Alezan is boyflux. The intensity of being a boy changes for them. Being so young, he doesn't quite have all the words to describe how he feels sometimes

8. Lasso

They're a strange being who has the body of an ox, the head of a humanoid crab and draconic wings. Their design is based on lamassu, ancient Mesopotamian guardian deities, and my Chinese and Western zodiac signs. Lasso was a being who was created at the edge of reality itself. As a result, they're incredibly inquisitive. They are also quite protective once they get attached to you

The flag:

The bandana - aitherogender

This is a xenogender. Some people feel that usual language around gender isn't able to describe the gender identity they experience, so they use metaphors to describe it. Aitherogender is an ethereal and otherworldly gender that is almost impossible to describe with written or spoken medium. It was originally intended for neurodivergent people but anyone can use the term

Given where Lasso came from, it would be likely that their gender wouldn't conform to human expectation or understanding of gender, let alone be able to be described in human language (or any language). I just thought it would be neat for them to have an otherworldly gender when they themself are otherworldly

#myart #personal #despite that last tag you have my full permission to reblog this #I'm very nervous about posting this and it's entirely because of thoss hyacinths

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redwylde · 4 years

Note

EVERY. MATSU. For the ask thing~

I Am Going To Beat You To Death

Osomatsu

>SEE PREVIOUS ASK

Karamatsu

Favourite Thing About Them

He's so genuinely kind and caring, a bad boy with all the attributes of punk but not a bland ass edgy caricature.

Also THE STAFF CONFIRMED THAT HE'S NOT FAKING ANYTHING, EVERYTHING HE IS NOW IS A PRODUCT OF HIS OWN SELF-LOVE AND I'VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER.

Least Favourite Thing About Them

He doesn't go ape shitt enough. Why won't they let him KILL. (S2 stumped whatever I would've originally put here, I'm so happy)

Favourite Line

This absolute goldmine of a line here.

brOTP

YOU GUESSED IT, IT'S CHOUKEI

but also 💙 S 💚 U 💙 I 💚 R 💙 I 💚 K 💙 U 💚

OTP

I don't have one, but do you ever think about how Kara leaned in to kiss Iyami (Iyayo) and Iyami was just going to let it happen, I do.

nOTP

Ugly Flower ass bitch.

Random Headcanon

Every so often Kara likes to doodle when he feels like it. He has a sketchbook full of doodles and studies of his brothers, who he draws when they're all just lounging around the house. As such they're all in sitting or lying positions and he's able to capture their personalities in each doodle. There's a handful of pages that are just studies of Oso, reclining on the couch reading a comic, sleeping at the kotatsu or any number of things.

Unpopular Opinion

Kara exists outside of Ichi and all of his development/angst potential does not revolve around his relationship with Ichi.

Song I Associate Them With

Yours If You Want it by Rascal Flatts

Favourite Picture Of Them

Honestly, I love waaaaaaayyy too many pictures of Kara to even think about picking one but this shot from NeetPro is a high contender. I ALWAYS love seeing Kara wearing his Perfect Fashion and this picture does a great job of capturing his whole personality at once.

Cool man but with gentle eyes. He smiles, stands non-threateningly and just looks so serene. I cry.

Choromatsu

Favourite Thing About Them

He is actually a very kind and nurturing soul trapped in an anxious body and people need to appreciate this side of him more. He doesn't take Totty to the bathroom or offer his brothers his shoulder to cry on for any reason other than he genuinely wants to be of help. We all know he's strong enough to yeet them if he wanted to.

Least Favourite Thing About Them

BABY HATES HIMSELF SO MUCH, MY LOVEY PLEASE GIVE YOURSELF REST. I swear you're fine as you are.

Favourite Line

"Shit. I wasn't able to stop their Ferris Wheel Tyranny" - Tabimatsu Event

brOTP

SUIRIKU!! And 💚 W 💛 A 💚 K 💛 A 💚 B 💛 A 💚

OTP

CHORODAYO CHORODAYO CHORODAYO CHORODAYO CHORODAYO CHORODAYO THEY DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER THAN THEY GOT.

WHY ARE YOU ALL SLEEPING ON THE BEST WOMAN WHO ISN'T MATSUYO IN CHORO'S LIFE??

nOTP

ChoroNyaa.

Random Headcanon

Choro raises succulents and it makes him feel happy because he's able to put his energy into nurturing something and watching it grow. It makes him feel better about himself because he gets to see something beautiful thrive because of his love and care! It's a positive and therapeutic feeling and it always makes him feel better when he's sad or anxious.

Unpopular Opinion

It's almost 2020 and we still have to say that Choro is not more perverted or cursed than any of the other brothers. They have all had poorly aging jokes at least once in the show by now. It's a shock humour comedy and we KNOW that they fluctuate almost every episode. We rely entirely on translated subtitles that are never going to be 100% accurate.

Song I Associate Them With

Verge by Owl City and Aloe Blacc

Favourite Picture Of Them

This is basic I know but I swear this is not for a thirsty reason lmao

Choro is ALWAYS always drawn very moe and cute (partly due to Asano-san's influence as head illustrator) so his appearances in official art are (usually) very childlike in nature imo. So when the staff released this series of images it hit me like a truck because he looks really mature here?? It's a really good look for him, Mature Choro is not a thing we get a lot of (Kara occupies the Sexy box and Oso gets all the mature atmosphere just because he's the eldest) so this picture really sticks with me, I just love how grown up he looks.

Ichimatsu

Favourite Thing About Them

He's a very perceptive and very mindful boy. I can't explain why but I love how good he is at reading the room and people's emotions. A lot of the time it means he can speak up for others if they're too afraid to be honest or cant understand their feelings.

Least Favourite Thing About Them

Nothing that comes to mind! (S2 fixed this as well lmao)

Favourite Line

"ARE YOU A COMIC? YES, GOOD JOB!~"

brOTP

Parka!! Or 110!!

OTP

No OTP for Ichimacchan.

nOTP

YanaIchi. Sorry guys.

Random Headcanon

Ichi is on the aroace spectrum and is romance repulsed. His relationship goal in life is just to remain as close to his brothers as he is now. So long as he has his brothers and his 12 million cats, he's good.

Unpopular Opinion

Ichi is not just Edgy McFurry and I wish people would focus more on the rest of his personality, which is actually a very kind but insecure boy. Also the next time I see someone describe him as a tsundere I'm gonna start swinging.

Song I Associate Them With

Demon Kitty Rag bg Katzenjammer

Favourite Picture Of Them

(Is this technically my favourite picture of Choro HFJFHDJFJJF I LAUGHED AT THIS FOR MONTHS ON END WHEN THIS EPISODE AIRED)

Jyushimatsu

Favourite Thing About Them

A very smart and supportive boy!

Least Favourite Thing About Them

He vores people and gets away with it, when will he recieve the jail time he deserves.

Favourite Line

This. Just this, I scream every fucking time.

brOTP

KINNIKU!!! KINNIKKUUUUUUUUU!!!! 💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛💙💛

OTP

Can you believe it's not JyushiHomu?

nOTP

Don't think I have one?

Random Headcanon

I'm not sure if this has been mentioned in canon but I love the idea that Jyushi really likes fish and marine life! Crabs, cephalopods and the nautilus are his favourites!

Unpopular Opinion

He IS actually smart and extremely conniving, he is not all volume, do not trust this man lmao

Song I Associate Them With

Brotherswing by Caravan Palace

Favourite Picture Of Them

I don't actually have a lot of pictures of Jyushi but I will never not love this picture of him carrying Choro-chan to safety.

Todomatsu

Favourite Thing About Them

He loves and will die for his family. He has a really loving heart.

Least Favourite Thing About Them

I know WHY he does it but sometimes he sets his brothers up to fail completely and I'm like WHY, NO ONE WAS EVEN FIGHTING WITH YOU LITTLE SHIT lmao

Favourite Line

"It's actually really fun being sextuplets"

brOTP

110 and, at times, Cyber!

OTP

Nothing.

nOTP

Y'all gonna hate me after these. AtsuTodo.

Random Headcanon

Totty is an extroverted introvert (I think that's the term) and that's why he prefers to do some things on his own, like exercising and going on trips, but doesn't mind socialising wih a select group of people i.e his brothers, his friends.

Unpopular Opinion

He's not at all cute.

Song I Associate Them With

I don't actually have one for him yet, sorry about that!

Favourite Picture Of Them

#I'M FINALLY DONE GOD I'M SO SORRY #YOU MADMAN #I SWEAR TO GOD #storm.answers

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daddyzarc · 5 years

Text

Hot take: The Barians are the only innocent creatures in all of yugioh

You’re probably wondering what I mean by this, but I have a perfectly sound explanation.

Look at these comparisons.

Notice anything peculiar? Let’s look a little closer.

That's better.

For those unaware, you may notice that the Barians lack a “mouth”. A mouth is “the opening in the lower part of the human face, surrounded by the lips, through which food is taken in and from which speech and other sounds are emitted.”

Why is this important? Well, because a mouth is an essential piece of the body part to engage in the act of Vore. Since Barians lack the ability to vore due to their own anatomy, they are unable to vore ever. In fanart or in the show, these angels are incapable of being involved in any of that stuff. They’re completely in the safe zone, they’re untouchable as far as the show puts them because you can’t do anything with these guys in THAT specific situation.

BUT WAIT, i hear yall typin away with a rebuttal

With the the introduction of Vrains, there exist another species of creatures without mouths—the Ignises.

Examining the images above, this other unique species also lack these crucial mouths, so you could argue that there are 2 Yu-Gi-Oh groups that are entirely sinless. And this is a fair argument without the context of what the Ignises could do.

But could that could they do exactly?

These images say it all. They could absolutely do that within the canon of yugioh.

So without a doubt, Ignises have the wholly ability to vore other creatures with ease. And this isn’t a one-off thing either, like they did it once and that was it. Ai is shown to have done this on multiple occasions within LINK VRAINS, his homeworld, presumably in a natural form. It is safe to assume that the Ignises absorb data and dismantle prey like this.

Knowing this, Barians ARE the only creatures incapable of voring.

But I hear you screaming. “But Dyzarc, you cranky dragon you, whadda bout anal vore? Cock vore? Absorption! Plus they have HUMAN forms, too. WITH MOUTHS which means the Barians are fully capable of eating! Theyre no different than any other ygo char!”

You could make those arguments, but I also have several points to refute this.

First, the human forms.

You could say that their human forms exist so that they can vore in that sense. That’s a very reasonable assumption.

And yes.

Yes, they could do that.

Yet, human form isn’t really Barian. It’s kind of off-canon, in a sense. They only took that form because Earth is hazardous to their bodies and they cannot maintain their true forms in that unnatural state. Within the closed system of their own environment (or Barian World), which is what I care about, the Barian species does not naturally have a mouth or a human body and therefore cannot partake in that act, canon or otherwise.

Furthermore, if a person wants to draw or write vore involving a Barian as the predator, they simply cannot do it. They must turn the Barian into a human or face the simple fact that Barians cannot vore (or a third option*).

*Theoretically, you could slap a mouth onto them or imply that a mouth exists underneath their muzzle, which only reveals itself when the Barian needs it. However, this is no different than giving a snake tiddies or putting legs on a shark just to fulfill a kink.

Secondly, I’ll focus on the other vore methods by showing pictures of some raw Barian crotches.

Now I may be blind as an olm, but they are clearly naked around the groin area. They lack any visible extremities that could be considered an anus or a cock too. Unless their anatomy works similarly to reptiles as in these organs are hidden behind a thin layer of rock around their crotch and only protrude when it is needed, they lack any organs that can perform cock or anal vore.

Excluding their physical appearance, Barians are canonically born from a circumstance other than, say, laying eggs or live birth or asexual reproduction. Meaning if they DO have those body parts, it’ll be a vestigial structure with no other purpose than to sit there and look stalactitey, probably kinda gross-looking considering what they are.

Of course a “cock” could function like the giant claw of a fiddler crab, where it’s mainly just for show to prove who has the biggest one (and so deserving of their territory, which is why Nasch is the leader. I’ll get into this later on why this could be the case) as well as to help them fight, find a mate, or exert their dominance.

Also, although I do not believe this image represent the entirety of Barian physiology

It is most likely that their insides consist mainly of veins and a... heart?? A star fragment, ball of spike? Whatever the case, I don’t see a stomach pouch nor do the Barians have a reason to have such a thing. The lack of a mouth and stomch makes sense in the “overarching picture” of how a Barian functions. Think about it from a human perspective. Why do we eat? Humans require food in order to produce energy to survive, grow, and reproduce, plain and simple.

Barians, on the other hand, live in a toxic environment void of life other than themselves. They do not need to eat for there is nothing to eat.

My personal theory is that they don’t require energy through consumption of food items like humans do. They either get it from photosynthesizing since their sun appears to be very close to their planet

Or maybe the "heart” is some sort of radioactive material that supplies them with an ample amount of energy. This powerful energy surges through the body through the help of the “roots” and essentially fuels them with life without the need for the consumption of food. My assumption is that the Barian itself is the roots and hearts, while everything else is just a rocky mass separate from the actual thing (im not gonna go super in-depth into the mind-body dualism thing btw. Just think about as a hermit crab with a shell with the “shell” being made of minerals)

And if we bounce off the idea that the shell is composed of minerals, or a rock, thus being very susceptible to erosion and damage as seen in how Vector broke pieces of his body during one of the duels

They most likely naturally regenerate their body parts by burying themselves deep into the ground so that the Rock Cycle

can repair and grow their forms. See, this process does not require food (which fits into their biology very well) and instead mandates that the Barian digs deep enough to begin the process of melting down its old, damaged body. The heart and roots will remain above the metling point of course; in fact, they play a crucial role in getting the Barian back into its proper shape. After reforming a new shell, the Barian emerges from the ground like a bunch of baby sea turtles, completely healed as long as the “molt” wasn’t disturbed.

Furthermore, this molting cycle could explain the presence of any “cocks” found within the Barian. Molting is extremely energy-consuming and time-consuming; rushing a molt will result in an imperfect shell or other impurities, or death if the impurity is life-threatening. The hardness, body structure, addition of any extra parts, and safe resurfacing, or preventing their new bodies from being damaged as they emerge from the ground, also depends on how well the Barian could alter the temperature and pressure of its surroundings magma (molten rock) to result in the best possible shell. This means that the Barians with poor molts are young and inexperienced while Barians with the best molt are old and experienced.

(hey can u find a better pic, this one isnt a good example)

This also works with how a big “cock” (in an abstract sense) could show their dominance over the other Barians. Or, in this case, the cock is actually extra formations to show off what they are capable of. Regular and large racks, for example, showcase a Barian’s skill at creating a new shell, with the larger and more angular the rack, the more powerful or experienced they are. This is especially difficult to do at a consistence rate, so the Barians capable of carrying it off tend to be on top of the pecking area. Nasch’s abilities to create so many horns means he’s deserving of his spot as the leader.

The Barian pecking order probably goes down the list on how complex—in that they managed to form a perfect, angular rack—their composition is.

Obviously, the chart simplifies what makes a great Barian. The Barian pecking order is much more complex than this.

For example, Mizael, despite the complexity in parts of the body like the face “mask”, is lower in the hierarchy than expected. Why? There is a lot to dissect about Barian physiology, but a peculiar detail is their carapaces. Unlike the rest of the body, which consist of a rocky formation, Mizael’s mask is a carapace. This could be easily seen when Nasch was briefly seen without these carapaces in this scene.

As seen on bodies of these Barians, they appear to have many carapaces which are separate from their main bodies, such as:

These carapace could be involved in the pecking order. The fineness and sharpness of the carapaces gives the illusion of strength (notice that Nasch is covered in carapaces while Durbe practically has none) as well as adding to their maximum size.

But they could also play another vital role... Defense Mechanism

It may sound strange, but I believe that Barians are built solely for defense....

Let’s take a look at a creature whose behavior and structural patterns mimics the Barians, the noble Hermit Crab.

I like to compare these two species due to their essentially parallelism in terms of “form follows function” such as:

(Marine Hermit Crab adding extra defenses to its shell using a venomous sea anemone; similar to a Barian adding sharp carapaces to its already tough, rocky exterior)

Comparing the likeness of the two, it could be assumed that the carapaces provide extra protection over the Barians’ main defense (rocky shell). The carapaces aren’t involved in the molting cycle, of course, due to their complicated build. It’ll be a massive waste to destroy them. Since a Barian could remove them at will, they most likely store the pieces above ground (or above melting point) and molt without them. After they finish molting, they retreive the carapaces. Again, very similar to the molting process of a hermit crab.

It may feel like I am going on a tangent of Barian anatomy rather than focus on their ability, or thereby lack of, to vore, but these details can be used to explain why Barians cannot vore from a historical standpoint.

They cannot vore because they are built like a prey.

Like hermit crabs, they are “bottom-feeders” with no prey of their own—mostly in part due to the absence of food on their home planet. Instead of being designed like a predator with the capability to vore, a mouth, they are the exact opposite in that they have only the defensive capabilities to defend themselves against a predator.

So following this, if there is a strong need for defensive pressure, who is the offensive pressure? A creature cannot be so defensively driven (thick shell, regeneration, armor, etc.) without the presence of a harmful force.

If it isn’t obvious, their predator are the aqueous Astral Beings.

Astral Beings are the perfect Barian predator (perhaps co-evolution played a part in this, or y’kno eliphas just said fuck those guys, lets kill em).

Moving along, not only are they armed with mouths, water is one of the natural forces that could heavily erode rocks, as seen along beaches, rivers, and cliff-sides, into a pile of sand and mud. Barians, with their outermost covering consisting of rock, are especially vulnerable to being broken down by the Astral Beings, exposing their sensitive cores to a likely death.

Their main defense against this is either:

(1) Regeneration, they can drop limbs and endure damage to their shell without fear of death, then repair any injuries during their molt

(2) Armor, the sharp carapaces (made of metals that can withstand water) can ward off potential attackers

A third defense that follows the how Astral Beings vore Barians in a predator/prey relationship could also be seen in the habitat of the Barians, or the presence of the Sea of Ill Intent.

Instead of being made of water, the sea is made of a very strong acid. Why is this important? For any of you that took a chemistry course, the proper technique of mixing acid and water (i.e the Astral Being), you must add acid into the water in that order. The flow of acid into water mixes the two better, preventing a reaction to occur. Adding water into acid, on the other hand, causes the water to react with the acid due to poor initial mixing, causing it to boil and potentially explode.

For this case, the rocky exterior of the Barian allows them to be submerged into the acid without risk of immediate death. Unless the Astral Being wants to harm itself by going into the acid to pursue its prey, they most likely will abandon the prey. If the acid starts to dissolve Barian’s shell (say, the Astral Being attempting to stakeout the Barian) they could regenerate the broken pieces during their next molt.

So not only Barians cannot vore, but they are hapless prey at that!

They are far from helpless prey—in the same way a Rhinoceros is considered a prey animal—but there is plenty of evidence that lead up to the fact they are indeed a prey species.

And the fact that they are the bottom of the barrel scavenger, harmless, unable to be a fearsome predator, only a potential prey at best...

They’re just innocent.

Now you say “Kay Dyzarc, ya made me read a longass analysis on the biology of a bunch of space rocks to prove some sickass vore fantasy of yours. Now what. What was the point.”

Welcome to Zarc n’ Pals, installment 1 baby, strap in for a wild ride

#dyzarc ramblings #zexal #barian biology #uh #barian tag #ignis tag #i dont wanna list all those names #idk when part 2 will be ready #or if yall are ready...

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16screamingferalrats · 5 years

Text

Pregerant farts

pergernanannanant

Karts marts, mario

He is a duck

Lord it duck duck lord

Fiesta ya

Now for the headlinf entarce he is doin fhe impossinle

Ful loac the in phosifocal ywah

He he is

His name is paul

Enter now

Shir bitch where is he the fick

Shit beinc idk

Godh darkn emma

Vore you to hell in back

Hewo msr Hiddn?

Whos did?

Hiddin!

Im hiddgenns your not me you are

Fool, i ameth the emma! I haveth broughtnyour groceries from thou market once, as well you beith mh professor

Pronc?

Pronc.

Come in younginnn i have very many shotguns

Bam bam

Who is this twink you broughtn along bemmma

Emma: it is my timnk, he is the paul

Paul?

Yes paul.

Hes a comin?

He has a comin, yes.

Amazinf, come in paul twink lets, booze

Brere?

Yes! We have all. But first who ist thour?

Thos r my main bitches pronc

Who ist thou? U are purk

Tiddy: I am not

Hiddnr: you are

My shotguns are amazknf, they are gread, singeth the beginning of the rock

The rock?

The mo, sonfeth the moanne now or i will blam blam you heathens down to dimmsdale dimmadome

Moammma wake way

We singeth dost thou mack you happy pronc?

Yes, we will boozeth together and leave the sad kitty woman with her dying bigch

He is not a bitch he is my good man

He is to die, look at his blue shit

His brain shit?

Absolutely, what is this?

Brain shit, good sir.

Ansolurely bemma, you are hromg

/i dont know where sm the boozsee

Charline: So, husband, you are dead

I am lonely bc you are hot and police and will shoot me, not good

Horny, i am. Kittens

I will bring u kittens

Ted no more kittens cops will shoot me

I will eat his brainfs

U hornh fuck lets fuck on a cop car

Be horny do crimez

Not exactly burt i like ur enerhy ted

Paul, before this, went to a coffe shop and ordered some shit. He was like !!!! Big armm there sree small arm out there and amall arm was all

I will sing

Paul was not hallg, he got his coffee, her big bitch got the blue shits. Charlin g an her bichads cop hoe got ran in a truck stop, got pulled obver for honru. Hornh is bamned this is family friendly. Cops are bad but have hands, lots of hands, jazxx hands, manh hands, will shoot.

Back to bemma in ghe crib, Charline dies

But! I easnt to fuck tonn the cop car

U cannot

I wil! U dont me

Ted will me

I will eat ted

Do not

I will

)he east ted

Charline: shife fuck why

He had goot hand, likes jamcnf.

Charline: does he not live?

Shir, he doesn, fuck wahter sd

I will eat u too

I will fuck you on the cop car?

Fine

I lied, ill just eat you

Fair enough.

Charline gets mcwrapped in a nugget

We would kinglu appreciate toue deat thank touz

No my god do not death me, bemma is smol but cannot be comtaine, hou will let big arms bemma

Out

Don not

O god you are completley right but let me sinf the entirly of hamiltom

Procnn hiddnr : hamilton!! Fuck hamilton, feic of shir headdass i am the spirit of thomas jefferson and i will kick his ass

Paul: he is tomas jefferson, he will kcik your ass hamilton

Cop: i am not hamilton

Prom: shut to fuck up sing moannna hamiltom

I know all the lyrics

Because you are hamilton

I am not

You are, sinf moanna

I am moanna,

Says who

Says lin

Sing moana

Fine, fuck you bam bam

Paul: shit fuck wow

Charline: yiu will pau but first i am

To sing that one part in phatnom of the popra

Aaaaaaaaaaa

Hiddn: literallt shit the fuck up bam

Paul: o fuc they are dead and have a lot of blue shit, so much blie shit. Who will die off the blue shif nexts

Ben: i will

Paul: thats fair, you have a gag daughter tho

Ben: gays are immortla they have swords

Paul: shit bitch you is right, but we have to protect the straights

Ben: you are a noble twonk

We will ride at midnight

Hiddn: do not go

With that twink y’all death

Bemme: timothy shut the fcul up you trick ass bitch

Alic: guess what im dead

Ben: no ur not ur gay and john mulany powers u

Alex: thats true but im sad

Ben: this is not sad times gay, get out

Cels: no, you lieft me and i fell apart i punched the wlal and cried bam bam bam you left me and i changed a part anf set up all that truthfull shit inside so i built a bomb

Ben: you didnnot thats just bmc

Cled: thats not

Ben: wheres the bomb

Cels: you set it off in my heart, friendship is ober with dad now bombs and gays are mh friends now

Ben: shit i fucked up

Pail: we have to go shes emo

Ben: we cannot

Paul: okay well i have a girlfiend with big arms and no will to live back in oklahama and i need to get back to her bc i know she secretly knows moana and will not gide it for long

Ben: resonable

Hiddn: wmma, guess whost

Emma: whT

Ive been singing this whole fucking time

You were not

True, only on the inside

Okay, so?

I am clearly a homozexual

Okay.

I, i am thomas jefferson

That is untrue you are not tomas jefferson

I am. I will probe it to you

You will not bitch youll ge t the blue gay shit its in the air and tuens the frogs gay

It does not

It reallt doss

Okay shut up you useless futch i will sinf moana

You will not

I will, i am homozesula and must sing moana

Please dont, timothey

Its thimas:

Its not

I will stop your fucking show bitchass

I wll sinf with mh boyfrens

You do not have any boyfriends

Ibigth, i had fove, they were fun

Oh reallt

Yes and id throw pigs around

Thats not reallt

It is, we would through pigs

Ted: i have remateriwalxes

That is: pretty fucking ridiculous

You theough pigs?

Thats fair.

Well, im ted again.

Okay, well you seem pretty interested in my gay musical

Well thats because im not gay

You literallt fucked charline on a cop car

That was one time i mistook her for a twink

You gave her cats

Thats just peak wlw mlm solidarit

True, anyways i was gay once

We know

I theough pigs

We know

I will now summon the souls of my gays

Rise, queens

We rise i am greg

I do theoh pigs

Thats not fuckinf true pigs are large as shit

Okay well were done bein gay so eat out gay blue shit

I will not

Youwill

Fuck you bitchasd

I will get us out,

How

I will sing moana, thomas hates moana

Why

Hamilton is moana

O true, so are you just gonna die again or

Yes i will doe

Okay

Hello emma

Hellow twink

How are you

Not bad my gay teacher almost gave me the blue shit

Not good

Lets get the fuck out of here

Okay

Lets take the plane

Delta airline?

Dasani

No not fuckinf dasani thag shits bad

Fuck outra here i aint got no moneh bemma

Okay

Cop: this time i am green and have more guns

Okay

Fuck trans people

I will push you out of this copeted

Do it busdy

Paul pushed the terf armh cop man with lots of hans and he dies

Wow fuck the copters crabsing

Shit fuck their aint not autopilot

Ur the autopilot but your a twink and cant drive

Shit your right

Okah we will crahs

/they crabs

Bemma: shir bfch my leg

Paul: this aint spongebob get up

Emme: i will make out with you

Paul: im not a lesbian

Emma: inwill spir blood as a sacrifice?

Paul: optional

Emma: okay *bloods*

Paul: the sacrifice was not kindly taken but the gods are happy

Okay

I am thor

Okay

You are a lesbian

Okay

I will die for you

You will

Okay lit, have. Agood day

You too paul

The end

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zhou-enlai-fanclub · 5 years

Text

Hey all some life updates

My gf of two years and I broke up this past week. We want to stay friends. I’m doing alright all things considered.

Also I’ve been writing a shitton but haven’t published anything online really yet but some highlights:

Little red riding hood as allegory for trauma

Medusa as metaphor for internalized homophobia/transphobia

Getting absolutely railed by God’s strap and also vored

Going to Crab Church and attending a Crab Funeral where you communally eat the departed

Poem written using hozier lyrics about ender wiggin’s xenocide written as a song of admiration and love and forgiveness by the hive queen

Poem written using real estate listings about trauma

#personal post #also lmk if ur ever interested in reading something before i post it #i only post things i feel are sufficiently polished but im always happy to share drafts one on one

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heterophobics · 7 years

Text

me, laying in my bed all day doing absolutely nothing: cool i feel fine

The Disorder: (rears its ugly fuckin head)

me: wait nevermind this post i have a better one do people want to be vored by the crab dude from moana is that really a thing???????

#IM LUJGHDF IM LAGUHIGNH #starpointisms #moana #bpd

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vonbaghager · 7 years

Text

got the pathfinder bestiary 5 (PDF) because i had spare scratch and here’s some highlights as I move through the books:

A pile of malevolent hair that can attach itself to someone’s head and tell them to commit murder.

Wind mouse w/ an absolutely massive fleshy fan attached to its tail that dwarfs the rest of its body

An orange-looking brain creature with two tiny tentacle mouths and four gangly spider limbs that teleports anyone it eats into the Vore Dimension

A small, very powerful but largely benevolent faerie that provides I N F I N I T E C O R N to people who please it and can cast its spells through any cornstalk it has ever planted.

One giant psychic brain made out of the combined brains of lesser psychics and a few normal people for flavor.

Hobkinsville Goblins, Greys, and alien war machines.

The literal Grim Reaper and a creature called “Lesser Death.”

A scroll that can leap off the scroll rack to attack people by either wrapping around their head or giving them papercuts so severe they cause lacerations.

An ooze made of jellied gunpowder that has a bad habit of coating everything and everyone around it in explosive powder that can have hilarious results.

A crab inhabited by the soul of a samurai. There’s just. A whole race of monsters that are samurai souls pissed off about the fact their soul got sealed inside a crab.

Interdimensional borzois that are intelligent, kindly, and can cure wounds and diseases by licking people

A weird vaporous creatures whose only means of attacking is wiping out someone’s memories until they just die because they forget how to keep living.

A tiny, friendly dragon that can make itself look like a coil of rope, and uses this “disguise” to sneak into bakeries and confectioneries to gorge itself on sweets and make a quick escape. It’s noted to sometimes defend locations or people that its come to love and sometimes slithers into adventurer’s packs to live with them. It’s adorable and I love it.

Entire ships made of the bone and muscle mass of slain sea beasts and staffed by the souls of crews from ships that it capsizes.

Giant mantis shrimp

Weird psychic dogs that give birth to weird psychic human-looking babies that die instantly if separated from their mom

Literal backwash oozes made when a gluttonous monster is slain

#long post

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twistedtummies2 · 8 months

Text

Glamour - Chapter 3 (Trade)

This is the third part of a four-part trade story with @hooter-n-company (a.k.a. Rchlis). She is making some very special art for me, and in return, she asked me to write a story to introduce a Twisted Wonderland OC she's sort of had stewing in the background for a while: his name is Taoka Latronis, and he is based on Tamatoa from "Moana."

This was a LOT of fun to make, and Taoka is one of my favorite OCs I've gotten to write for that I DIDN'T create myself, if not my favorite (at least as far as TW goes, I should clarify). Hopefully a lot of you like him, too. ;) Parts one and two have already been released the past two days; the fourth and final section will go up tomorrow. Be on the lookout!

WARNING: THIS PARTICULAR SECTION DOES NOT INCLUDE ANY KINKS DIRECTLY. HOWEVER, THERE ARE IMPLICATIONS OF VORE AND OTHER KINKS SPRINKLED THROUGHOUT THE FIRST THREE PARTS. DON'T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON'T READ. NOTE/DISCLAIMER: Once again, I referenced a song from "Labyrinth" (performed and composed by David Bowie) here. Once again, I hold no rights to the lyrics, figured I should still put this here, though.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

“This can’t be!” “Well, it sure seems like it can.” You and Grim watched anxiously as Divus Crewel and Maverick Mokulau paced across the stage. The audience had been cleared out, with the help of Neige LeBlanche, and local security had been called to investigate. Vil Schoenheit and Keala Cravalho had both split up to help them out. Speaking of which…all four of you looked up as the familiar clip-clopping of heels announced the return of the two students. “Have you searched the dressing rooms?” inquired Professor Crewel. “Every last one!” exclaimed Keala. “And?” “Nothing! It’s just…gone!” “You two were supposed to be on the ball today,” Vil scowled in your direction. “Nya! Don’t look at us!” Grim yowled, fur bristling with aggravation. “No, Grim, he’s right,” you sighed. “We may not have been in charge of security, but we should have been more on top of things, as Stage Managers. All those mishaps, culminating in the trophy being stolen…” “What does ‘culminating’ mean?” Grim meowed, in response. You and Vil groaned in tandem.

“It has to be around here somewhere,” fretted Keala. “I sincerely doubt that, at this point,” frowned Vil. “What is security up to now?” Mokulau demanded to know. “They’ve begun interviewing some of the contestants, to see if anybody noticed anything suspicious,” Vil replied. “I regret to say they haven’t had much luck.” “Someone had to see something!” Grim suddenly screeched. “All anybody saw were stars,” droned Vil. “That flash of light blinded everybody who might have gotten a good look.” “What was that flash, anyway?” murmured Keala, scratching his chin. “It didn’t seem like just a normal lighting trick.” “You’ve got that right, kid,” grumbled Mokulau, tipping his shades down as he turned his head up thoughtfully, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Wasn’t just an illusion, either…” “It seemed to me,” Crewel broke in, “Like some form of magic.” Those words caused something to click inside your brain. You suddenly let out a shout of frustration and slapped your forehead. “Oh, you Dumbo!” you cried out…then, noticing the expressions on everyone’s faces, you quickly explained: “Not you all. Me. I think I know who did this!” “You do?” Grim blinked. “Yes. But I’m going to need more proof,” you said solemnly, and stood up. It was time to take charge. “Vil, Mr. Mokulau, Keala? Can I ask you three to accompany me?” “If you feel it’s necessary,” Vil said slowly, while the two Royal Sword members nodded in agreement. “Good,” you smiled, then looked at Professor Crewel. “I think you and Grim should help security, sir. I may be completely wrong, and I don’t think ALL of us need to go at once.” “That seems reasonable,” Crewel nodded, and pointed at Grim with his familiar rod. “Come, puppy! We have work to do!” With a swirl of his fur coat, Divus Crewel flounced away. Grim growled grouchily. “First I’m a cat, then I’m a puppy,” he grumbled. “I’m getting sick of this…” “Just behave,” you sighed, and shooed the little imp away. With a sniff and a snort, he followed Professor Crewel away. “So, where are we goin’?” Maverick asked, crossing his tattooed arms. “To see Hop the Dwarf,” you replied, and beckoned for the three to follow you. “I think he’s the first stop we should make.” “Whatever you say, Basil of Baker Street,” Keala smirked with a shrug. You just gave him a blank look. “Forget it,” he chuckled, waving it off. Vil and Mokulau rolled their eyes. You just shook your head and led the group away. It was time to start getting a few answers.

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“Who knew what kind of instrument you would be playing?” you asked Hop the Dwarf. Yourself and Keala stood inside the little fellow’s dressing room, while Vil and Mokulau - having seniority as judges - stood outside the room to guard it, just in case the culprit you suspected should show up. Hop scratched his head as he pondered the inquiry. “Well…I had to fill out a form to let management know,” he pointed out. “I’m aware,” you nodded. “But who else might have known?” “Did you tell any of the other contestants, maybe someone in the audience?” asked Keala. “I don’t think so,” said Hop, shaking his round little head. “Only Gran and Dominic, and they wouldn’t do a thing like that!” “No, of course they wouldn’t,” you sighed, feeling rather frustrated by the answer. This hadn’t gotten you anywhere you hoped it would. “I guess your hunch was wrong,” said Keala, weakly. “Seems that way,” you grumbled. “Wait a moment!” Hop suddenly squeaked, snapping his tiny fingers in realization. “There was that one guy…!” “One guy?” you and Keala chorused. “Uh-huh!” nodded Hop. “See, there was this guy…” He indicated you. “...I think he goes to your school…anyway, he said he was trying to find his lost guitar pick, and he was asking around if anybody had seen it. I told him I hadn’t seen it, and he said that was okay. He then asked what I was doing for my act, out of curiosity. I didn’t think there was anything wrong, so I told him my plans for my performance.” “So he would have known which instrument you were using and where you kept it?” “Well, not where I KEPT it, no,” said Hop with a slight giggle. “I didn’t tell him THAT much!” “Still,” Keala murmured, now catching on to what you were anticipating, “If he knew you had the instrument in here, and knew what he was looking for, he could have come in at any time you weren’t around.” “Did you leave the room at any point?” you asked the young dwarf. “Just for a few minutes for a snack break,” shrugged Hop. “That would do it,” you said gravely. “Can you tell me what he looked like?” “He wore a gold coat, and a glove on one hand. He also had purple eyes.”

Keala sucked in a breath sharply. You looked quickly towards him. “What’s wrong?” you asked the young man in the red shirt. Keala hesitated before answering: “I saw the same guy near my dressing room after I went to the bathroom for a spell. I’d left the door open when I left.” “So he could have gotten in while you were away?” Keala nodded, and added another detail: “He had a guitar bag slung over his shoulder. At the time, I assumed it carried his instrument, but…” Cravalho trailed off. You could easily guess the rest. You nodded to him, then at Hop, smiling slightly with a sense of slight triumph. “Thanks, little guy,” you said to the Dwarf. Hop gave a cheery mock-salute. You and Keala each returned the gesture, then exited the room, shutting the door behind you. “Well!” you said, clapping your hands together. “That cinches it.” “You know who’s behind this?” Mokulau checked. “I’m pretty sure, yep,” you nodded, then looked at Vil. “I’m afraid he’s one of your students.” Vil’s eyes widened, but only for a moment. “You don’t mean Taoka, do you?” he asked. “I’m afraid so. Do you know what his Unique Magic is like?” “I have not had a chance to experience it, no,” Vil answered, shaking his head. “I have. Or, at least, I think I have,” you said. “He’s the one who took the Lanternblossoms that Grim and I needed for our assignment with Professor Crewel. When he did, he lifted his hand, muttered some sort of spell…” “And let me guess,” interjected Mokulau, “There was a disorienting, golden flash of light?” “Just like the one that everybody got hit with when the trophy was stolen,” you confirmed.

“If it’s a signature spell, then there can be no doubt,” frowned Vil, clearly cross at the idea of one of his own Pomefiore dorm-mates being potentially responsible. “But we’re lacking the negligible item of evidence.” “He’s got a point,” Keala concurred. “Security checked all the dressing rooms, including his. They would have found it then, wouldn’t they have?” That was a good point, which you had no answer for. Mokulau scratched at his bear-like chest, then lifted a finger as he spoke up authoritatively. “The way it sounds to me,” he said, seriously, “There are three answers to this problem. The first is that our Stage Manager is either wrong or outright lying to us.” “I’m inclined to think they are correct,” Vil said, and gave you a supportive smile. “For all the faults the Prefect of Ramshackle has, I have no reason to doubt everything they’ve said as being as true and factual as they can manage.” You smiled gratefully. “I figured that,” nodded Maverick. “The second answer is that this Tapioca-” “Taoka,” corrected Vil. “-Whatever…the second answer is that he’s somehow managed to hide the trophy in his room, in a way security wouldn’t be able to uncover. I don’t think that’s true, either: if he’d used a cloaking spell, for example, they would’ve checked for it immediately.” “Then what’s the third option?” questioned Keala. “I think I can guess that,” you answered, and raised an eyebrow at the Royal Sword instructor. “It’s that he’s hidden the trophy - and maybe all the other things he’s presumably taken - somewhere offsite. Right?” “In the time before and after his performance, he could have had a chance to hide the instruments and all the rest,” reasoned Mokulau. “And in the confusion after he swiped the trophy, he might have been able to slip off to somewhere, provided it wasn’t very far away.” “There’s plenty of options,” said Vil, solemnly, a hand to his chin as he pondered things. “It would have been risky, but so was stealing everything to begin with. In the words of a famous writer, ‘once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’” “Okay, so…if he HAS done that,” Keala frowned, scratching his cheek, “Then where is this hiding spot?” Mokulau could only shrug. A smile came to your face. “Well,” you began to say, slyly, “Maybe we don’t know that…but there’s bound to be one person who does.” You then pointed to Maverick’s sunglasses. “Quick question…do you have spares of those?”

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“You remind me of the babe! What babe? Babe with the power! What power? Power of Voodoo! Who do? You do! Do what? Remind me of the babe…” Taoka Latronis laughed and sang as he lounged lazily in his dressing room, smiling up at the ceiling. He was feeling very pleased with himself. He spun around in his chair, grinning from ear to ear, looking for all the world like the cat who had caught the canary. He was still gayfully humming when a thumping knock came at the door. The smile was struck from his face. “What?” he called out, crossly, a slight sneer curling across his painted lips. His expression quickly changed, and he sat up straight in his chair, as the door opened to reveal a broad-shouldered, heavily-tattooed man with long, dark hair and a stubbly, strong chin, with a shark tooth necklace around his throat and sunglasses shrouding his hazel eyes. “Mr. Mokulau!” exclaimed Taoka, startled at the sight of the rock star judge and magic master. “This…th-this is unexpected…” “Heh. Don’t worry, I get that a lot. Not everybody expects me to be so perfect,” winked Maverick with a chuckle. Taoka gave a sort of tight smile in return. “Is there something you need?” Taoka asked. “Security already checked my room…is there any chance we’ll be allowed to leave soon?” “Actually, yeah, that’s what I was coming to tell you,” replied Mokulau, and jabbed a thumb back towards the open door as he stepped further into the room. “Security’s done checking around for now, they wanna clear all the contestants out. You’ll be free to go in just a few minutes. So, if you’ve got anything to pack up, better get to it.” “Thank you, sir. I’ll make sure to get ready in a moment,” Taoka said, then paused before hesitantly asking, “Do they know who might be responsible?” Mokulau paused before sighing and nodding, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into a pocket. “Honestly, I really shouldn’t be telling you this,” he said, and brushed some of his dark curls away from his face. “But they think it was a student from your school.” Taoka’s purple eyes widened. His smile flickered. “Do they now?” “Yeah,” nodded Mokulau, and paused a moment longer before continuing: “We can’t prove it, but we’re starting to suspect the Stage Management duo had something to do with it all.”

Taoka blinked. Three times. “Them?” he repeated, sounding almost bewildered. “They had access to every room,” replied Mokulau with a scowl. “And it seems kinda suspicious so many things would go missing on their watch. We’re not sure how they took that trophy, or if they had any help, but with all the mishaps during the contest as a whole, we’re pretty sure they had to know more than they’re telling.” Taoka looked askance, purple-hued brow knitted in thought. “You have a point,” he murmured, then a grin spread across his face, and he looked back up at the great musician. “Yes! It has to be them! We should have suspected it from the start.” “Psh. Tell me ‘bout it,” snorted Mokulau. “Your Housewarden is beside himself: the idea of a fellow NRC student being behind it all, somebody he personally asked for help…” “Eh. I imagine the dorm leader will get over it,” shrugged Taoka with a smirk. “Guess we shouldn’t have trusted a person from a world with no magic, huh?” “Looks like it,” Mokulau replied, and chuckled to himself: “At least they didn’t get my real pick out of the deal.” Taoka’s grin vanished instantly. “Huh? What…what do you mean the real pick?” he asked. “Oh, well, obviously I didn’t ACTUALLY put the REAL guitar pick I used in my first concerts on the trophy,” said Maverick with a smile. “It’s precious to me: something like that isn’t something I would just get rid of.” “I see,” Taoka said, and cocked his head. “So, uh…if it’s not prying too much, where DO you keep the real one?” Maverick smirked. He looked around, as if to make sure nobody was watching…then winked and patted one of his pockets. “You…you have it here? With you?” gasped Taoka, seemingly stunned. “Well, duh! It’s my lucky pick!” laughed Mokulau. “Every guitarist worth their salt carries one, kid. If you’re gonna be one, you better find your own soon.” Taoka grimaced and looked away again. “Yeah. If,” he muttered.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” smiled the large man, with a kinder sort of expression. “I know we were pretty rough on you out there today, but you’ve got passion, kid. That’ll take you far, if you keep it up.” “I somehow doubt that,” whispered Taoka to himself. Maverick looked the young Night Raven student up and down…then stepped closer and reassuringly placed one huge, heavy hand on the young man’s shoulders. Taoka looked up, seemingly surprised. “When I got started, I was totally on my own, kid,” said Mokulau. “It took a lotta work and a lotta faith to get to my level now. I know it sounds cliche, but trust me, those two things can do a lot for ya if you let them. Don’t ever forget: as handsome as I may be, it’s not really about what’s out here…” He lightly pinched Taoka’s golden jacket indicatively…then lowered his hand and tapped a finger to the youth’s chest. “...It’s what in there that’s gonna matter most.” Taoka let out a sarcastic sort of chuckle and brushed the teacher’s hand away. “That’s a nice sentiment, sir, but you of all people should know: a golden heart isn’t gonna matter when you’re totally invisible.” Maverick frowned again, now a bit bemused. He tilted his head. “What makes you say that?” he asked, quietly, then a bit louder: “Have we met before?” Taoka’s expression was unreadable. His ungloved hand quietly clutched the other appendage in an absent-minded way. All he said in reply was a thoroughly emotionless: “Yes. We have.” Mokulau looked as if he wanted to ask something else…but at that moment, a new voice intervened… “Ahem! Mr. Mokulau?” Maverick turned around to see Vil Schoenheit standing in the doorway to the room. “What’s up?” he asked. “Your students - Neige and Mr. Cravalho, that is - want to talk to you.” “Thanks,” grunted Maverick Mokulau, and turned back around to smile at Taoka once more. He pulled out his shades and flipped them back into place over his eyes. “See ya later, kid.” “Maybe so,” Taoka answered in a slippery sort of way. Maverick grinned and clicked a finger-gun gesture towards the young man, then followed Vil out of the room. The moment he was gone, Taoka’s sly expression changed to a truly evil grin. He looked down towards his hands. He opened his gloved palm…revealing a small, bone-white guitar pick in his hand. “Gotcha,” he cackled to himself under his breath, then tucked the pick hastily into his own pocket before hurriedly tidying up his room. Once it was all clean, he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He was still laughing as he left the dressing room.

As far as he could tell...he'd won.

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Taoka took one of the sideways passages out of the auditorium, thus allowing him to slip by most anyone who might have spotted his departure. He did not head towards Night Raven straightaway. Instead, the spiky-haired young sneakthief blazed a trail towards the edge of the dense forest. His pace was deliberate, his demeanor sharp and direct; he knew exactly where he was going. No sooner had the youth’s golden coat vanished into the undergrowth, than he removed the pick from his pocket. A devious smile - which showed off each of his slightly-too-long teeth - split his face as he crept through the shadows of the trees in a Northwesterly direction. He had only gone some forty yards or so before he spotted a destination: a small, empty cave, half-hidden by brambles. Sniggering at his deceit, he hopped, skipped, and jumped over the brambles and scuttled into the cave, like a spider quickly creeping back into its den…or a crab, burrowing into a hiding spot. Inside the cavern, he paused a little ways away from the entrance: the cave was wide and round, with a ceiling that was about as low as a typical room in a typical house. No animals lived here, which made it an admirable hiding place…for the instruments, the microphones, and all the other bits and pieces of necessary hardware the contestants of the Triple-S concert competition required for their performances. Pilfering the items had been shockingly simple; sneaking them out when nobody would notice was only somewhat more difficult. Taoka chuckled as he approached the prize of his little hoard: a familiar silver trophy, topped with an ivory guitar pick. “Figuring out how to get you all out of here again is gonna be a bit of a problem,” mumbled Taoka…then smirked and shrugged. “Ah, well. Maybe I’ll just sell the stuff that’s worth something, leave the rest behind.” He knelt down beside the trophy with an evil smile. “You, however…you I’m gonna treasure. You and the REAL pick,” he chuckled, lifting up the bone-white guitar strummer in his hands indicatively… …And the moment he did, his smile faded. A look of confusion filled the glammed-up guitar player’s eyes. Something wasn’t right. The pick on the trophy had a familiar hook shape in its center; this was to be expected. The symbol was Mokulau’s logo, and his first pick had been etched with the design early on. That was as good as a signature or fingerprint of authenticity. But the pick Taoka now held…well, it was the same exact color, and the same exact shape and size…but it had no visible markings on it at all. “Wait a minute,” murmured Taoka, and scratched the surface…then sighed as the paint scraped, and a different color - a plain gray - showed underneath. “Oh, I see. He’s taken a cheap pick, and painted it in the same color as the one on the trophy…” Taoka’s look of petulant dissatisfaction abruptly changed to one of apprehension and alarm. “...As a diversion?” “More like bait.”

Taoka leapt to his feet and swung around with a snarl. He glared as he saw you standing at the entrance to the cave. Vil and Mokulau stood just a short distance behind you. As the three of you entered, the young man moved into a guarded position, flinging the cheap pick aside. “You followed me!” he accused. “Guilty as charged,” you chuckled. “It wasn’t too hard. We knew you couldn’t have brought them all the way back to the school, and there was nowhere in the town that seemed likely. We just didn’t know where to look. I figured if we dangled something shiny in front of your face, so to speak, you’d just HAVE to take it.” “You’ve disgraced my dorm, Latronis,” glared Vil. “I hope you realize punishment is well overdue.” “Oh, please, don’t insult me,” snorted Taoka coldly. “Or do we have to forget somebody else cheated much more dangerously at a certain other competition?” Vil glowered and said nothing. Sensing trouble, you subtly stepped to block him and Taoka’s path to each other. Vil noticed, smiled, and lightly placed a hand on your shoulder. He mumbled something under his breath, but only you heard it, and gave him a small smile in return. “Keala!” Mokulau called back over his shoulder. “We’ve found him.” Moments later, Keala joined the group. He looked almost hurt when he saw the trophy behind the glitzy scoundrel. “So you DO have it!” he exclaimed. “Give it back!” Taoka glared. “Why should I?” he hissed. “How about because we’ll pummel you if you don’t?” growled Maverick. “A student attacked by a teacher? I think that would get you in a great deal of trouble,” crooned Taoka. “You’re no student of mine,” said Mokulau coldly.

“Oh, that’s where you are wrong,” smirked Taoka, and straightened his stance, showing off his flashy outfit. “See, you’re the one I have to give credit for who I am today: watching you, I learned the only way a person is gonna stand out is if you make yourself bigger, shinier, and all around better than anybody around you. And it doesn’t matter who you step on to get there, or who gets left behind in the process!” “But that trophy wasn’t yours to take!” Keala protested. “What good does it do you to have it now? You can’t show it off, you can’t claim you won! What does it matter?!” “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” sniffed Taoka. “Well, I’m making it my business!” Keala snapped, taking an aggressive stance of his own. “I worked too hard to make my grandma proud-” “Between us, babe, I’m getting a little tired of hearin’ about your grandma,” interrupted Taoka. “I don’t care who ‘deserves’ this or not, it’s MINE! I’VE claimed it! AND I AM NOT LOSIN’ MY TREASURE NOW!” So saying, Taoka Latronis thrust out one hand. You heard him start to utter a familiar incantation… “NOW!” you shouted, and at almost the exact same time, Taoka finished the spell with three bellowed words… “Time to shine!” ZAM! A blinding flash of golden light shined and glittered through the whole small cave of loot. Taoka grinned and picked up the trophy, then made a dash to run past all of you and out the cavern mouth… …Only for an arm like a steel band - Vil’s - to suddenly swing out and smash into his abdomen. With a wheezing grunt, he staggered back, his gloved hand on his diaphragm, the other still holding the trophy tightly. He coughed twice and looked up…then gulped at what he saw. “Oh, come on!” he almost whined. “That’s STUPIDLY unfair!” All four of you wore matching, mischievous smiles…and sunglasses.

“Extra protected,” Mokulau boasted, adjusting his pair. “Not even your sparkle can beat these babies.” “Give us the trophy, Taoka!” Vil demanded, marching forward and stretching out one arm sharply, as if ordering a dog to drop a bone. “Don’t make this harder for yourself.” Taoka just scoffed. He removed his guitar, propping it up against one of the cave walls, and moved into an action-ready posture. “You’ll have to turn the world upside-down before I let you take this from me,” he responded icily. So saying, the young man reached into his pocket, and pulled out his Magic Pen. With a swish and a flick, he summoned a pillar of water, which blasted Vil backwards and sent him sprawling onto the cave floor. The other three of you hurried to his side. “You okay?” you asked, worriedly. “No,” Vil said, through a face full of dripping makeup. “I’m soaked.” You smirked. “THERE HE GOES!” Keala’s shout alerted all of you. You looked up; through the tint of your sunglasses, you saw Taoka finally use the distraction he’d sought for to flee, as he darted from the cave and out into the woods. “We can’t let him get away!” yelled Mokulau. “Come on!” You didn’t have to be told twice. You helped Vil to his feet, and all four of you charged out of the cave and after Taoka Latronis.

To Be Concluded in Part 4...

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twistedtummies2 · 8 months

Text

Glamour - Chapter 2 (Trade)

This is the second part of a four-part trade story with @hooter-n-company (a.k.a. Rchlis). She is making some very special art for me, and in return, she asked me to write a story to introduce a Twisted Wonderland OC she's sort of had stewing in the background for a while: his name is Taoka Latronis, and he is based on Tamatoa from "Moana."

I absolutely LOVE Tamatoa. He's a fun villain, and a surprising crush (albeit a somewhat mild one, for me, personally). Rchlis wanted to create a character for the TW universe based on the big glam crab, and I certainly wasn't going to say no. The advantage of this being a trade, instead of a commission, was I could go and make a much longer and more detailed story, in return for much more detailed and elaborate artwork, without either of us having to pay exorbitant amounts that frankly neither of us could afford. Win-win. XD This was a LOT of fun to make, and Taoka is one of my favorite OCs I've gotten to write for that I DIDN'T create myself, if not my favorite (at least as far as TW goes, I should clarify). Hopefully a lot of you like him, too. ;)

Like with other stories of this nature, the other parts will be uploaded one a day over the coming few days. So be on the lookout! Part one went up yesterday.

WARNING: THIS PARTICULAR SECTION DOES NOT INCLUDE ANY KINKS DIRECTLY. HOWEVER, THERE ARE IMPLICATIONS OF VORE AND OTHER KINKS SPRINKLED THROUGHOUT THE FIRST THREE PARTS. (I actually think this part might be the only chapter that DOESN'T feature kinks at all, possibly.) DON'T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON'T READ.

NOTE/DISCLAIMER: The lyrics to the songs used in this chapter are not mine. One is a song you should all know from a Disney movie that you should all also know. I used a cover by Jonathan Young as my guide. The other is a song from "Labyrinth," composed and performed by David Bowie - it seemed appropriate. All rights to the original tunes go to their owners.

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“AND NOW, AUDIENCE MEMBERS OF TRIPLE-S! IT’S TIME TO MEET YOUR JUDGES!” The announcer’s declaration was followed by much clapping. From your place just slightly offstage, you watched the opening ceremony get underway. One by one, the announcer presented the judges for the Sage’s Solo Showdown. The two student judges - Vil and Neige - were the first to step up. Given their celebrity statuses, each was greeted with screams and squeals, as well as great applause. Neige all but pranced up to his seat on the judge’s booth, waving excitedly to the audience. He flashed a peace sign and winked at someone in the crowd, before sitting down. Vil followed him. He strutted to his place and bowed regally, smiling a sort of indulgent, almost sultry smile at the crowd. You couldn’t help but chuckle as Vil sat down: when Neige had appeared, you’d seen fangirls bouncing with giddy excitement. When Vil appeared, however, you saw them swoon and faint dead away. That said everything about each of them, you felt, in a nutshell. Divus Crewel stepped up next, as the “teaching judges” now came into play. You were surprised by how much applause he got. He was no celebrity superstar in the way Vil and Neige LeBlanche were, you supposed his recognition as a professor at NRC, along with any clout his “extracurricular activities” had gotten him, would have still garnered him a decent fanbase. “I wonder who the fourth judge is,” you murmured. “Nya! We haven’t seen any of the teachers at Royal Sword,” whispered Grim with a nod. “I’m curious, too!” The pair of you would soon get your answer. “And now, ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice boomed. “Our final judge for this year’s competition, and our chief master of ceremonies! I’m sure a lot of you know him: one of the hottest musicians in Twisted Wonderland, a native of this very island, who’s just started a new career of teaching at Royal Sword Academy! Please put your hands together for the mighty…the magnificent…MAVERICK MOKULAU!” The crowd went just as wild as they had for Vil and Neige, if not wilder. From your vantage point, you could see the latter of the young superstars bounce happily as he applauded from his seat, a look of idolizing wonder in his eyes. (Vil and Crewel, for their part, clapped politely; the latter even somehow managed to falsify a smile.) Soon, you could see the mysterious Mr. Mokulau: your first immediate thought was that he looked like some sort of rock star. he was a very large man, similar in height and build to Coach Vargas, but with darker skin and long, curly, yet well-groomed hair. While Vil and Neige were dressed in their school uniforms, and Crewel in his usual attire (fur coat and all), Mokulau was wearing a short sleeved shirt with a green floral pattern, like the canopy of a jungle, and a stylish pair of leather pants. Around his neck was a leather cord, with a shark tooth pendant, and he tipped a pair of Aviator-style sunglasses up onto his forehead as he strode towards his station. He winked one of his shimmering, almost metallic hazel eyes, flashing a grin of pearly teeth to the audience and flexing one arm in a showy fashion; both of his brawny limbs were covered in a myriad of tattoos, and you could see the beginnings of a similar tattoo on the back of his neck, no doubt trailing down along his spine and shoulders, currently unseen under the cover of his clothes. Mokulau took the microphone from the announcer and addressed the crowd; not only was he built like Ashton Vargas, but his imposing, booming voice you felt sure would give the coach a run for his money. “Alright-Alright-Alright!” he called out, slipping the shades back over his eyes, and pumping his fist into the air. “Who out there is READY?!

The crowd cheered and Maverick laughed boisterously. “Aww, c’mon, you can all do better than that! LEMME HEAR YA!” The man held the mic towards the audience and they cheered even louder. “That’s more like it!” he boomed. “Now, much as I wanna get onto that stage and go wild for you all, that’s not why we’re all here today. I know, I know, I’m the best, it’s a tragedy you won’t hear me…but maybe if we’re lucky, some of these guys and gals we’ve got backstage can almost match! Almost, heh…” Grim’s ears twitched as he heard a sound from behind you both. He looked, then frowned and tapped your shoulder. You looked to see where his paw pointed, and scowled: you could see the glitter of a familiar pair of purple eyes, peeking out from a shadowy corner of the offstage area. However, Taoka’s eyes weren’t focused on you. They were focused on Mokulau. You tried to ignore the strange thief, and refocus attention on the Royal Sword instructor…yet you were keenly aware of his nearby presence the whole time. “Seriously, events like this are really something special,” Mokulau went on, pacing before the judges bar as he continued to address the audience. “Trust me, I’d know: when I was just a kid, livin’ on this very island, I fell in love with music. I could play, I could sing, I was pretty good at it! But, well…let’s just say finding somebody to SUPPORT that music wasn’t easy. I had to leave this place to find a real chance to express my passion, get a scholarship, and eventually become the person you see now…which is, to say, AN AWESOME DUDE.” The audience chortled. Neige giggled. Vil and Crewel looked thoroughly unamused and merely rolled their eyes in unison. “So, anyway, when I found out about a chance to teach at Royal Sword, and to help judge this competition as well, I was hyped! It was a chance to come back to my roots, and to reconnect with something I…well…something I think I lost a long time ago. But we’re not here to hear my drama: we’re here to hear some cool guys try to out-cool yours truly! They’ll probably fail, mind you, BUT the one who gets the closest is gonna go home with somethin’ real special!” Mokulau snapped his fingers. The announcer dashed offstage, then returned with a cart. The audience “oohed” and “ahhed” at what was upon the cart: it looked like a huge trophy cup, made of silver. The handles of the cup arched upwards into a sort of bridge over its mouth…and in the center of the bridge, you saw an ivory-hued, triangular item, with the shape of a fish hook etched into it. “This great silver trophy,” Mokulau declared, “Is topped with my very first guitar pick! Some of my earliest and best concerts were done using that thing…I like to think of it as my way of passing the torch, and a sign of not giving up on your dreams and passions, no matter what they are. Call me sentimental, ha! Trust me, the silver’s worth a lot of money…but that pick? It’s truly priceless. And whoever gets first place in this competition will go home with that shiny puppy in their hands. SO…” He waved one hand extravagantly, and the announcer wheeled the cart and the trophy away. “...I think it’s time I stop yammering your ears off! YOU READY FOR SOME MUSIC?!” The crowd applauded and called out a resounding “YEAH!” in various forms. “Then let’s get this party started!” howled Mokulau, and gave the mic back to the announcer before rushing to the judge’s station. He sat down with a smirk, crossing his arms and slinging his legs up onto the table in front of him. Vil and Crewel - who sat on either side - cringed and flinched away as he did so. Neige just smiled blithely, clearly unaffected. As the announcer began the proceedings, you realized it was time for you and Grim to get to work.

“Come on,” you whispered to the little imp. “Let’s go.” “Right, Minion,” Grim whispered back…then blinked as he looked past you. “Nya…where’d that purple-haired weirdo go?” You turned and, sure enough, you couldn’t see a single sign of Taoka. “Forget about him,” you sighed, shaking your head and ushering Grim away. “We’ve got a job to do, big guy, let’s move it!” Grim nodded and bounded after you as you each scuttled away to take care of business. Neither of you noticed, as you hurried away, that Taoka hadn’t really left. Purple eyes watched the two of you go, then once again the shadowy sneakthief stepped out of hiding. From his place offstage, he narrowed his eyes, peering over the stage itself towards Mokulau’s cool expression. A strange expression - something that crossed a snarl, a sneer, and a decidedly unpleasant smile all at once - crossed his face. “Well, well, well…been a while since we last met, hasn’t it? If you can call it meeting…” The gloved hand clenched tighter, the fist shaking visibly before Taoka swirled his golden coat and prowled back towards his dressing room. “This time, you won’t be able to ignore me. And to make doubly sure…I’m going to see to it nobody shines like me today.” A slightly unhinged chuckle left the young man. “Then again…way I see it, nobody shines like me at all. But, hey, no harm in remindin’ ‘em of that.”

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“I don’t get it!” squeaked Hop, the blonde dwarf from Royal Sword, as he hurriedly looked around his room. “I had it when I came in!” “I told you to keep a better eye on it!” snapped his friend, Gran, grumpily. “Easy, fellas,” soothed Dominic. “It’s gotta be around seer humswear…I mean, here somewhere!” “I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for it,” you promised with a sigh. “Thanks, Stage Manager,” Hop said, with an apologetic smile, rubbing one arm. “I-I’m really sorry about the trouble.” “Trust me, it’s no trouble,” you said, and left the dressing room. Your smile vanished as soon as you did so. “Nya! I think it’s trouble!” Grim protested, huffishly crossing his arms. “How come nobody here is able to keep track of the important things?!” “I don’t think it’s entirely their fault,” you said, softly, scratching your chin as yourself and your companion patrolled the halls of the backstage reaches, where all the singers and performers were getting geared up or resting after their number. So far, however, those who had gone up hadn’t exactly faced smooth sailing. The first contestant had lost their microphone; as a result, their performance suffered, as they couldn’t be properly heard throughout the ampitheater. It was all downhill from there: another contestant lost an important piece of their outfit, and had to hastily throw on different clothes. Not only did this make them late to their cue, but it lessened the impact of their performance, as the costume had built-in lights that were supposed to go off at a certain point during the song. Now, Hop the Dwarf had lost perhaps the most important thing he or any other performer would need: the instrument he had brought to accompany him. These and more issues had plagued nearly every single person who’d gone up so far. ‘This can’t be a coincidence,” you muttered. “It feels like someone is sabotaging the other performers.” “But why?” “Why else? So they can boost their chances of winning,” you snorted. “Oh, yeah,” Grim murmured, nodding slowly. “I guess that would make sense…right! That’s obvious! I-I totally knew that already! Yep!” You could only let out a groaning sort of sigh. “You really ought to care more,” you grumbled. “This is going to make US look bad just as much as anyone onstage. We’re supposed to be on top of things like this.” “You mean…we might not get the money?” sniffled Grim. “You worry about the cash, I’m going to worry about my grade,” you groused in aggravation. “We’ve got to figure out who’s behind this as soon as we can.”

“Well, right now, I don’t think we’re gonna have a chance,” shrugged Grim. “We’re running around too much!” You grumbled again in reply; you knew that, for once, he was right. You’d have to take care of this issue when the show was over, and report things to security accordingly. But you REALLY didn’t like it. You could only imagine how Vil and Crewel were reacting to all this, and what they’d say if they saw it as poor management on your behalf…honestly, that hurt you more than any worries about your actual welfare. Your highly concerned musings were interrupted when one of the assistant stage managers - they had been assigned, not picked by you - came over to you. “Contestant 23 is about to take the stage,” they said. “Good,” you nodded back, and beckoned Grim to follow you. “Come on, it’s our job to bring Contestant 24 into place. They go on immediately after.” Grim nodded, and the two of you went to Number 24’s room. You knocked, and a polite voice from inside called out, “Come in!” You opened the door and smiled as you peered in on the performer inside. Said performer was a student of Royal Sword. Until this day they had been all but a stranger to you. They were slender and small of frame; their somewhat effete yet clearly strong and muscle-toned features vaguely reminded you of Epel or Lilia: petit and slim, yet tough and resilient all at once. He had skin the same bronze-like tone as Maverick Mokulau’s, and hair done up in dreadlocks. He wore a reddish-pink tank top, with striped tropical patterns on it, and beige trousers, with patchwork badges that resembled some sort of yellow flower or coral. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown, and filled with a warm, friendly light. “Number 24?” you checked, just to be safe. The young man nodded as he stood up, and adjusted his personal microphone. “Name’s Keala,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. “Keala Cravalho.” “Nice to meet you,” you chuckled. “Nya…technically, you saw each other earlier,” huffed Grim. “Yeah, but we were both in a hurry then,” shrugged Keala, and smiled as he knelt down towards Grim. “Didn’t get a chance to say hi to you, either.” “I’m the Great Grim of Night Raven College!” the imp declared, puffing out his fluffy chest. “And don’t you forget it!” Keala chuckled and reached out to playfully ruffle Grim’s headfur. “I won’t,” he said with a teasing smile. Grim growled and swiped at Keala’s hand, batting it away and blushing beneath his gray fur. He grumbled as he straightened out the fluff of his furry noggin. Keala just chuckled louder and stood up again, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “I didn’t realize you two went to Night Raven. You’re not how I expected a lot of students there to be,” he remarked. “Eh. For me, it’s just a place to stay. And learn, I suppose,” you shrugged. This was, in fact, the truth: while you had your own school pride, you’d never felt the intense bitterness towards Royal Sword others at NRC did. Maybe it was because you weren’t originally from this world. “Come on,” you said, and ushered Keala out into the hall. “The act before you is about to go on. It’s time to get moving.”

“Oh-oh, wait a minute!” exclaimed Keala, and hurried back into their room. You frowned as you watched him check the locker of his dressing room. Keala’s smile fell, a look of confusion and then worry on his face. “Is something wrong?” you checked, already dreading the answer. “No,” murmured Keala…then shook his head and spoke a bit louder. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ve just, uh…just gotta get my backup plan real quick, hold up…” You and Grim shared a look, mouthing “backup plan?” to each other. Whatever it was, Keala fetched it quickly, tucking something into his pocket. He then nodded and smiled, indicating he was ready to go. Smiling back, you led him out of the backstage area and towards the main stage itself. “You nervous?” you asked as the three of you hastened to your place. “More than a little,” admitted Keala, brushing some of his dreadlocks from his face and giving an anxious sort of smile. “I’ll be okay, though.” “I’m sure you will be,” you smiled back. “You’ve got this.” “Not as much as OUR students have got it,” mumbled Grim. You made sure to jerk his tail for that one, giving him a strict look of reproach. Keala just sniggered at the exchange. Soon, the three of you were in view of the stage. Contestant 22 had just left, and Contestant 23 - in all his purple-and-gold glory - was now stalking onto the stage himself. “Welcome! And what’s your name?” you heard Neige’s voice call out. “Taoka Latronis,” came the somewhat snide reply. “And if I’ve prepared the way I think I have, I’m about to rock your world.” “Well, aren’t we confident?” Vil smirked, steepling his hands and leaning back slightly in his chair. “I try to be, Housewarden,” Taoka replied teasingly. “If you think being one of our students is going to help your chances, puppy, you are sorely mistaken,” Divus Crewel thought to point out. Maverick Mokulau just yawned. “Enough yammering!” he called out, and waved a meaty mitt through the air. “You’re here to perform, so perform. You can’t do anything more wrong than what some of the other clowns so far have.” Taoka’s smirk took on a slightly sinister, sneaky bend.

“Trust me, I know,” he practically purred, then seemed to shake off the aura of darkness. He straightened his back and adjusted the guitar strapped about his golden-clad shoulders. “This song is a short one, so you all know.” “Short doesn’t mean bad,” shrugged Neige, cheerfully. Taoka gave him a quick nod, then took a breath, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on his music. “Ugh…I don’t even wanna HEAR what this guy has to play,” grumbled Grim, and plugged up his fiery ears. “Hey, everyone here put a lot of work into what they’re doing,” soothed Keala. “Give him a chance.” Admittedly, you were on Grim’s side, given Taoka’s behavior…but once his fingers began to work on the guitar, you soon changed your mind. The tune he played was pounding and deep; like something primal, waiting to burst free from his very soul. Discordant, jarring jangles of the guitar strings were accompanied by melodic tones, the strong strumming rising in intensity and pitch with every couple of lines. Taoka kept his eyes closed, his expression filled with a sort of melancholy pain. This sensation matched perfectly with the lyrics he sang, which held a dark, conflicted message… “How you turn my world, you precious thing,” he crooned. “You starve and near-exhaust me. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you! I move the stars for no one. You’ve run so long, run so far!” Suddenly, Taoka’s eyes shot open. They fixed on Mokulau. There was a fiery intensity in them as he continued his song… “Your eyes can be so cruel! Just as I can be so cruel! Though I do believe in you! Yes I do!” Taoka’s eyes softened, and turned up towards the sky. His voice carried a shaky tone, as if trying not to cry. “Live without the sunlight. Love without a heartbeat…” His eyes closed again, just as they had begun to look misty. He turned his head downward again, as his fingers brushed the final, somber notes from the guitar. Huskily, he uttered the final lyrics… “I…I…can’t live…Within You.”

A few more plinking, plunking strums, and the lament came to a close. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “That wasn’t too bad,” murmured Keala behind you. “Is it over?” muttered Grim, who had his ears covered the whole time. You just rolled your eyes. Meanwhile, the four judges and the audience behind them applauded. The bitterness that had been written all over Taoka’s face was erased as he smiled hopefully at the competition masters. “So?” he asked, as the applause died down, sounding perhaps a little too playfully sure of himself. “Will it pass?” “It passes for me!” chirped Neige LeBlanche. “You really put a lot of effort into that one, I could tell! There was a lot of emotion, a lot of passion, in what you were doing. It wasn’t very long, but you really sold it to me.You oughta proud of yourself!” Taoka’s broad grin indicated that he was. “Yes,” yawned Vil. “Well, unfortunately we can’t all be so forgiving.” Taoka’s grin fell in an instant. “You may be one of my dorm-mates, but - as both your dorm leader and one of your judges here - I have no choice to be critical,” Vil went on. You couldn’t help but smile slightly to yourself with mild amusement: Vil was ALWAYS critical, regardless. “The emotion you put into the song was truly palpable,” he commended. “I can tell this is a tune you are passionate about, and you did your best accordingly. HOWEVER, I feel you should have chosen a longer piece, to make a bigger impact, just for a start.” “I agree,” nodded Divus Crewel. “Furthermore, while your voice is good, there is a sort of rasping quality to it I couldn’t help but notice. In some places, it is quite effective, but in others, it makes your voice sound weak; I would strongly recommend working on developing more clarity to your vocals.” In a matter of moments, Taoka’s expression had gone from almost smug to looking rather nervous. He turned to face Mokulau. Maverick was looking up at him thoughtfully over the rim of his sunglasses. Finally, the judge spoke. “Sorry, kid, but I can guarantee you aren’t making it to the finals,” he grunted.

You swore you could hear Taoka’s heart shatter. “I didn’t mind the voice, and the song choice seemed fine by me,” explained the tattooed man. “No, my problem stemmed from the strings. Were those discordant sounds I heard intentional?” “Some of them,” peeped Taoka, in a shockingly meek tone. “Well, there’s your biggest issue,” snorted Mokulau, tipping his glasses up again to cover his eyes. “You were able to fake it to the end, but if you can’t play the tune properly, don’t compete over it.” Someone in the audience muttered a quiet, “Ouch.” You couldn’t agree with them more. “Is there anything you want to say before we move on?” Neige asked, politely, a sympathetic smile on his kind face. Taoka gulped. He looked like he’d been kicked in the stomach. You saw him lift his gloved hand. He looked at it with a strange sort of contemplation…then curled the fingers into a fist and shook his head. Once more, you noted the odd way one of his fingers didn’t curl as much as the rest. Suddenly, you weren’t so sure that was just a genetic peculiarity. “Thank you very much,” Neige said. “I still think you did very well! Keep up the good work!” Taoka gave no indication he had even heard what LeBlanche said. He stalked off towards the backstage area. He cast one last hate-filled glance over his shoulder at Maverick - the rock-star-turned-teacher didn’t seem to notice - then pushed someone out of the way as he stormed off into the shadows, golden coat fluttering behind him.

“Nya…talk about a guy who can’t take criticism,” Grim hissed. “Forget about him,” you sighed, then smiled at Keala as the announcer called for the next contestant. “Now’s your time to shine.” “Thanks,” whispered Keala with a grateful smile. He tossed his dreadlocks out of his face with a flourish of one hand, and sauntered onstage. “Greetings,” Vil welcomed, with a respectful sort of bow of his head. “We’re glad to have you with us today.” “I’m glad to be here!” Keala said, and gave a salute to Maverick. “Hey there, Mr. Mokulau! Hi, Neige.” Both of the Royal Sword members waved in greeting. “You know them?” Crewel inquired. “Neige is in my class, and Mr. Mokulau’s one of my teachers,” Keala replied. “Don’t worry: I don’t expect either of them to go easy on me.” “Well, you can be sure of that with one of us,” chuckled Mokulau. “Hey! I can be strict!” pouted Neige, childishly. “It’s just harder for me!” The two teachers chuckled. Vil just groaned and pinched his brow; it was as if every word LeBlanche uttered was painful to his mind. Then he looked up again at the newest competitor. “What is your name?” “Keala Cravalho.” “I don’t see any instrument on you,” Schoenheit observed, raising one immaculate eyebrow. A brief look of anxiety crossed the young man’s face. “Heh heh…yeeeeah, about that…” “Did you forget it?” Crewel asked, blandly. “Oh, no!” insisted Keala. “I brought it with me, but it…doesn’t seem to be in my dressing room anymore.” You and Grim shared a worried look. Whoever was taking things from the contestants had struck again. “Just like with Hop,” you heard Neige murmur sadly. “What do you plan to do then?” wondered Professor Crewel. “Sing a-capella?” Keala’s anxiety gave way to a sly smile. “Actually,” he said, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, waggling it in the air. “I came prepared. See, my grandmother always taught me to have a backup plan, in case things went wrong. So, in case something happened to my instrument, I actually recorded a full instrumental for the song, so I could still have my own accompaniment!” “I’m impressed,” admitted Vil. “Such foresight would have helped a couple of contestants today.” “Not every contestant knew my grandma,” winked Keala. “If somebody could help me set this up to the speakers…”

You took that liberty personally. You scampered onstage with Grim, and the pair of you quickly hooked up the phone to the speakers, and reworked the mic, so that Keala’s music and voice wouldn’t bury each other or bust the audio levels. It thankfully did not take very long, and soon yourself and your trident-tailed companion hurried off again. You gave a final thumbs-up to the judges and Keala alike, and high-fived (well…high-pawed) Grim as you vanished back into the wings. “Ready now?” Mokulau checked. “Yeah. I’m ready,” said Keala, and looked back at the judges. “This is a song my grandma taught me. It’s based on the legend of a princess who used to live right here on Sage’s Island. Maybe some of you will know the legend.” “Well, let’s hear it!” cheered Neige. Keala nodded and tapped the play button on the recording before hastily scurrying to center stage. He had just a few seconds to breathe and collect himself before the music started. A slow build gave him a chance to envelope himself in the moment; you saw his face relax…and his eyes slowly reopened. He stared off into the distance, as if looking out towards the horizon…and began to sing… “She’s been staring at the edge of the water, long as she can remember, never really knowing why. She’s wished she could be the perfect daughter, but she comes back to the water, no matter how hard she tries.” The music began to build, a pumping, determined, unstoppable quality to the music. Keala’s voice strengthened in turn, from the gentle notes of a storyteller to something more powerful as he began to stride across the stage, singing directly to the audience. “Every turn she takes! Every trail she tracks! Every path she makes! Every road leads back to the place she knows where she cannot go: where she longs to be…” Keala tilted his head back as if soaking in the sunlight from above…listening to the distant waves upon the beach… “And she says…‘see the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me! And no one knows how far it goes! With the wind in my sail on the sea, behind me, one day I’ll know! But if I go, there’s just no telling How Far I’ll Go.’” You glanced towards Grim to see his reaction. The imp seemed mesmerized, mouth slightly agape, eyes sparkling like a hypnotized kitten. You giggled, and then looked towards the judges. Mokulau had lowered his sunglasses; he was watching with very intense interest. Neige was beaming from ear to ear. Even Vil and Professor Crewel had raised their brows in apparent surprise, as the golden voice continued its song… “She knows everybody on the island seems so happy on the island! Everything is by design. Oh, she knows everybody on the island has a role on the island! She says, ‘Maybe I can roll with mine!’ She could lead with pride! She could make them strong! She’ll be satisfied if she plays along! But a voice inside sings a different song: ‘What is wrong with me?!’” As the question was asked in the lyrics, you caught sight of something else. On the opposite side of the stage, Taoka had suddenly reappeared. The disgraced youth’s eyes were exceedingly wide, and his jaw seemed to have fallen onto his chest. His skin had even turned a shade or two paler. He didn’t just seem surprised. He seemed downright SHOCKED. You couldn’t help but feel a mild twinge of satisfaction at that, even as the next chorus began to roll off Keala’s tongue… “‘See the light where it shines on the sea? It’s blinding! But no one knows how deep it goes! And it seems like it’s calling out to me: so come find me! And let me know what’s beyond that line. Will I cross that line?’” The key changed, and the music kicked up a notch. Keala’s voice soared straight to the heavens, eliciting cheers from the audience. No longer did he sing in the third person, the words coming directly from his heart as he called out the final chorus… “There’s a line where the sky meets the sea! It calls me! And no one knows how far it goes! If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me, one day I’ll know…HOW FAR I’LL GO!”

The final words ended in a long, powerful, strong note, and Keala’s dreadlocks whipped forward as he finished with a sharp bow, the music crescendoing and coming to a halt at the same time. The audience applauded louder than they had that whole time. All four judges clapped, and you could hear Neige laughing and cheering, “That was so great!” You looked towards Grim with a smirk. He still looked hypnotized. You snapped your fingers in front of his face. He mewled and shook his head, blinking at you blearily. “Sounded pretty good, huh?” you teased. Grim frowned and huffed, looking quite embarrassed.

“I guess so,” he muttered. “For somebody from Royal Sword.” You just scritched him behind the ears in response. By the time he started purring, the crowd had calmed down. “I don’t even have words for that!” Neige declared. “That’s gotta be one of the best performances I’ve seen and heard in a while!” “I find it hard to disagree,” Vil said, although it sounded like he VERY much wanted to, if only BECAUSE it was Neige. “While I personally feel your sentimentality was a bit overwrought, your voice is pure and your recording did nothing to negatively influence your performance.” “I second all that. And quite clearly the audience loves you,” added Professor Crewel. “Bravo, you daaahling puppy. Bravo, indeed!” Keala gave all three a grateful, speechless nod, then looked towards Mokulau. His eyes were filled with a sort of cautious optimism. Mokulau grinned back and nodded before giving a thumbs-up. “You made me proud, kid,” was all he said. “And I bet your grandma feels the same way.” Several in the audience clapped again. You could actually see Keala’s large brown eyes go slightly misty. “Thank you,” he almost whispered. “You’re welcome!” Maverick sang back. Keala bowed to the judges, and scurried back towards you. You laughed as he whispered a hasty thanks to you, as well, and waved farewell to him. You then glanced back towards the stage to see the next contestant. As you did so, however, your smile faded. Taoka was still standing on the opposite end There were no mortal words to describe the utter and complete look of hatred on his face as he looked first in the direction Keala had gone, then at Mokulau. Then, with a snarl and a sneer, he disappeared once again.

“Come on, Minion!” Grim yowled, tugging at your leg. “We still have work to do!” “Coming,” you whispered, and hesitantly followed Grim, glancing back repeatedly to where you had seen Taoka. You had a very bad feeling inside your chest…and if your time in this world had taught you anything, it was to trust those instincts. You wished it had also taught you to learn what those instincts specifically meant.

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Afternoon was beginning to change into evening when the competition came to a close. You had been told who the winner was, and now waited with them backstage, ready to usher them on at the cue. The Announcer stepped to the center of the stage, and declared that the time had come to present the silver trophy - topped with Maverick Mokulau’s treasured pick - to the first place contender. Naturally, Maverick himself stepped up onstage to present the award. The announcer hurried off to wheel the cart onstage once more. The other three judges all stood a pace or two behind Maverick, hands behind their backs, as if at attention, patiently waiting for him to make the presentation. “I think my fellow judges and I can agree that picking a winner for this contest was pretty tough. There were a lot of hiccups today in some of the performances, but these kids…they knew their stuff, and they clearly all worked hard,” he chuckled. “There’s only room for one proper winner, though…and that winner is…KEALA CRAVALHO!” You grinned and gave Keala a pat on the back. “Go!” you whispered, and the Royal Sword student’s dreadlocks bounced as he jogged onstage. He shook hands with Professor Crewel, Neige LeBlanche, and Vil Schoenheit (who visibly wiped his hands on his trouser legs afterwards). Then he approached Maverick Mokulau. The rock star tipped his sunglasses back onto his forehead, his hazel eyes filled with pride as he lifted the trophy from the cart. “Congratulations, kid,” he smiled. “You’ve really earned this today.” Keala beamed, and reached to accept the trophy… …And that, it seemed, was the moment fate chose to make everything go wrong. ZAM! Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of golden light. It flooded the entire stage, and even seared into the retinas of some in the audience. Gasps and yelps of surprise and alarm sounded from all corners. “What IS this?!” you heard Professor Crewel screech, as he shielded his eyes with one fur-shrouded arm, recoiling from the flash. “Trouble,” you heard Grim hiss at your side. You couldn’t agree more: the light soon vanished… …And the whole crowd in attendance gasped in horror. Maverick Mokulau gulped, absolutely stunned…as he looked at his now empty hands. The trophy had vanished too!

To Be Continued in Part 3...

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daddyzarc · 5 years

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But wait. What about Don Thousand? He's a barian too. AND cleraly a predator.(Although, you could argue that's because he was originally an Astral being). But what about Fearsome Four? They have mouths too in their barian forms.(Although, Kaninja and Semimaru's mouths are that of the insects they are based on.) So not all barians are innocent. Only the Seven Emperors.

(you asked for this anon ~ love Dyzarc)

I apologize for not delving into Don Thousand in my previous analysis, but in my experience, I was strictly taught that my papers should get to the point with the arguments being clear and concise. This includes omitting irrelevant information that adds nothing to the thesis. Don Thousand is certainly an interesting case in the Barians (and I’ll gladly talk about him this time) but originally, he didn’t fit into the analysis. Every point I wanted to cover was better done using the Seven Emperors — the acid sea, the predator, carapaces, molting, ect — and throwing Don Thousand into the mix would have bloated up the analysis with redundant data. Furthermore, if I wanted to talk about Don Thousand, the analysis would end being twice as long. And I’m sure none of you want to read that.

However, anonwhoshouldrevealthemselfsowecanmeetbehindadarkallyway, I take the full blame of overlooking the Fearsome Foursome as you will take the full blame of allowing Dyzarc to do this. This particular group of feral Barians are a very unique case in Barian Biology since, well, look at these ugly fuckeroos

And since they differ from the Seven Emperors to a high degree, I will certainly go in-depth on these Barians.

DISCLAIMER: If you didn’t read the previous post, please feel free to do so. I’ll expand and refer to certain points in there, so you might be scared confused if you don’t. Also, I will not be primarily addressing their incapability or capability to vore. Everything I mentioned previously continues to hold true for the most part, and it can be applied to all five of the unaddressed Barians. However, there are some abnormalities present that I wish to discuss (Chironex and Mr. Heartland, for example). This post will mainly be explaining their anatomy and so-forth rather than focus on why they absolutely cannot vore. Furthermore, these Barians do function a tad bit differently than the other ones, and I’ll talk more about this later. There will be a section at the bottom that focuses on the vore issue since I KNOW that’s what you folks are here for, but other than a sprinkle of discussion (mostly in relationship to their predator) throughout the passage, it will be vore-free.

Forthemostpart so let us begin

Zarc N’ Pals Installment 1, Detour 1 GO!

So now that I am given the opportunity to talk about Don Thousand, I’ll fucking talk about Don Thousand. I have a lot to say about Donny, so if you only wanna see my discussion on the Fearsome Foursome, move your cursor to the scrollbar and pull down because you won’t see the end of this for miles.

Don Thousand is the Gustave of Barians. He is HUGE. An absolute unit. I’m not even joking.

These are some standard-sized Barians:

This is Don Thousand:

Ho-leey shit

So Don Thousand…

Don Thousand is one of the most mysterious Barians mostly attributed to his large size. Since sightings of Don Thousand are far and few between, there is actually an on-going debate in the Barianologist community centered around his true height. Here are some assumed height based on previous encounters:

Smol Don, approximately 10ft or 3m tall, larger than a standard Barian but not by much:

Tol Don, approximately 40ft or 12 m tall much larger than the standard Barian:

Big Boi Massive Don, approximately 150ft or 45m tall, outed as a hoax at the moment but possible if Don Thousand is given more time to grow:

So far, the most agreed-upon and plausible size for Don is the “tol” variant for a number of reason. First off, the few people that encountered this Barian noted that he was much larger than the average Barian, but not towering by hundreds of feet tall. (plz for the love of god, imply square-cubed law doesnt apply for my sake im so tired) Secondly, despite not having consistent sightings of Don Thousand, there have been evidence of his carapaces, or the outer coverings:

Depending on when and where the carapaces were discarded, along with the usage of other trace evidence, such as tracks on the sand or cleared pathways among the crystal forests, safe estimates could be made about his size.

Okay, but why is there even a debate on the size of a Barian? Especially if he is so large, shouldn’t it be a lot easier to spot him than the other, much smaller Barians?

Yes, Don Thousand is huge, but it is incredibly important to consider the type of environment he lives in. Earth is covered in cities and civilization, as well as satellites that keeps in eye on Earth’s surface. There are eyes everywhere, human or otherwise. If you plop a creature as large as Don Thousand onto Earth, he will be detected in a matter of minutes. On the other hand, Barian World is barren. The only thing on it is the vast acid sea, large crystalline structures, deserts, caves, and clumps of the dwindling Barian population. Not a lot of equipment is readily available to find Don Thousand either. He could be hidden within the acid sea or burrowed deep underground in molt. He could also be hidden in the fields of crystal trees, which are still large enough to hide a Barian his size, or buried under a layer on sand in the desert. Not to mention that Barians could grow, although rare, Don Thousand’s actual size could be changing as we speak. He may as well be a big boi massive since the last sighting. Unless we constantly send expeditions onto the hostile environment, Don Thousand will remain forever elusive and cryptic.

There is also a plethora of other factors that make this more complicated. His size, again, contributes to this. Going back to my previous analysis where I mentioned that Barians grow or repair using molts (in this case, the rock cycle), molting is a process where its usage and speed depend on the size of the molting creature. Look back to the hermit crab, who I relate the Barians to often, for the size disparities.

Like Barians, hermit crabs have large and small sizes as well, which isn’t strange for most arthropods. A mature hermit crab could be much smaller than another mature but older hermit crab. In the case of the Barians, a Barian like Nasch is mature but he isn’t large like Don Thousand. This isn’t to say that Nasch can’t grow large like Don Thousand, and he might as well in the future, but Don Thousand went through hundreds of molt cycles before he reached that size. He may continue to grow until his size becomes a major deterrent to his survival.

What makes this hard for us is that molting tends to be a process that gets longer the larger the creature is. For example, hermit crabs (Coenobita clypeatus) average molting times relative to their size in inches:

Micro/Teeny: Less than 1.0″ - 1 week

Small: 1.5″ - 3 weeks

Medium: 2.5″ - 6 weeks

Large: 3.0″ - 8 weeks

Jumbo: Greater than 3.0″ - 16 weeks

As you can see, the larger the crab gets, the more time it takes to complete a molt. Now if we consider that a Barian undergoes a similar process, ie the larger Barians take much longer to complete the rock cycle, it isn’t hard to believe that Don Thousand could take decades, perhaps centuries to molt. Which, may I remind you, is a very long time in the eyes of a dragon. It is easy to understand why Don Thousand is seldom seen or studied. But assuming that he stays above ground between molts (which means he stays above the crust for three times as long as he stays under), there should be a long period of time where he can be easily found, right?

This is where things get a little muddied. Due to his massive girth and thick, rocky shell, Don Thousand can stay submerged in the Sea of Ill Intent for a much longer period than a regular Barian (their shell could still be dissolved, yet the thickness relates to how long they can stay). This means that even if he finishes molting, he can remain hidden within the acid for an indisputable amount of time.

So all of this discussion about his size… What does this have to do with his ability to vore?…

Why plenty, in fact.

In nature there are certain animals that have natural predators when they are small/young (sally lightfoot crabs, elephants, rhinoceros, alligators, ect.) but as they grow larger and larger, they slowly lose that disadvantage. And guess which Barian is the biggest one around — yup, Donny K

By nature, Don Thousand is just an absurdly large prey creature.

His size alone is a deterrent against predators that want to challenge such a massive beast (except astrol). Even if an Astral Being, or many Astral Beings, attempt to harm him, he can easily swat them off since he is so big. And as previously mentioned, he can stay within the Sea of Ill Intent to avoid the deadly predators if he really don’t want to be bothered. To summarize, Don Thousand is highly undesirable prey who is much more trouble than he’s worth.

Understanding this, the other Barians do not follow in Don Thousand’s footstep for a couple of reason:

1) Consistent shape and size means they don’t need to constantly get new carapaces. Every time a Barian makes a drastic change to their body, they must find or create new carapaces that will fit their new form, either by carving a completely new piece or altering their old one. Unless they prepared it before going underground to molt, the Barian will be without carapaces (which protects them from predators) for an unreasonable amount of time, increasing their chances of being killed.

2) Cost of maintaining a body that large is very high. We do not know what fuels a Barian, but the cost of making/transporting energy through a lengthy body, moving high-density limbs, and molting is very high for such a large Barian. If they expend all the energy inside their core without replenishing it somehow (solar power?), they might die of exhaustion.

3) Molting is dangerous but necessary to an extent. It consumes a lot of energy to dig down, melt, reform, rack-build, harden, and dig up, and this process is only harder as the Barian grows bigger. They can also face other dangers in mid-molt, such as being uplifted or disturbed by another Barian, and as the longer they have to stay underground, the chances of being disturbed only increases. For arthropods, interruptions during molt could be fatal or leave them deformed until their next molt. For Barians, molting should only be deployed if they need to repair their shell or work on their rack to ascend in their pecking order. Larger size is not a necessity nor is it worth it most of the time.

The large size is useful as a defense mechanism and trait for the pecking order, yet overcoming the threshold to reach that size is difficult and more trouble than it’s worth, especially since most Barians already have an adequate defense mechanism. Don Thousand is one of the few, perhaps only, Barian that chose to go the “larger size” route. This is made possible for one very critical reason — where he chooses to molt. It is difficult to pinpoint this incredible fact, but Don Thousand molts under the Sea of Ill Intent.

The image below shows a crack on the seafloor, exposing a hotspot that Barians could use to burrow into and molt.

And the most conclusive evidence that Don Thousand specifically molts around here:

See that thing at the bottom of this hole? That is one of Don Thousand’s carapaces, located under the ocean, hidden in a whirlpool of acid and lava. Most Barians leave their carapaces close to them while they molt, usually several kilometers above the melting point to preserve it or prevent its destruction. The fact that a Don Thousand carapace can be found under the sea strongly suggests that Don Thousand is located very closely to this spot, several kilometers deep into the ground.

Doing this solves some of the issues stated above:

1) Consistent shape and size means they don’t need to constantly get new carapaces. With Don Thousand’s size, he is able to stay in the acid for a long time without feeling substantial damage to his vital organs. Since the acid will protect him from being attacked while he is carapace-less (not that he has to worry about that), he is given plenty of time to make new ones before he needs/wants to emerge.

2) Cost of maintaining a body that large is very high. The cost of maintaining the body is still high. However, I believe that the effect is mitigated since Don Thousand may be a Barian with a lot of energy to begin with. His core energy (or rate of photosynthesis) may be unnaturally higher than the rest of the Barians, thus he is able to grow large to begin with. Furthermore, Don Thousand doesn’t need to worry about predators at that size. He wastes little energy dealing with them (fleeing, defending, fighting, ect.) and this is the trade-off he chooses.

3) Molting is dangerous but necessary to an extent. The acid sea deters offensive Barians and Astral Beings from harassing him while he is molting, unless they want to venture far and deep into the ocean, risking their life in the process. Uplifting will also only bring him in contact with the acid, where he can promptly dig back down. This is much safer in comparison to being exposed to predators on land.

^The above ends up creating a simple positive feedback loop where his large size prevents the acid from harming him, allowing him to molt into a larger size, which in turn protects him from the acid even more.

(Smaller Barians have a hard time breaking into this loop.)

Taking into account that his massive size will quite easily place him on top of any pecking order based on that alone, where exactly does Don Thousand fit? I’ll get into the idea of “Barian Colonies” in my discussion of the Fearsome Foursome later, but adding Don Thousand into a pecking order isn’t as simple as it seems. Actually, it is really simple, but there are some factors that complicate the issue.

Due to his large size and the circumstance of his molting, Don Thousand seldom spends any time with the other Barians. If he isn’t in molt, he most likely spends his time within the sea. It takes a lot of energy to move around and if there isn’t an urgent need to emerge from the acid, he will stay submerged until the next molt (the only reason I can think of as to why he would emerge would be to photosynthesize, if Barians do that, or maybe harass the local Barian population). This means that Don Thousand is severed from the Barian pecking orders for the most part, but I assure you that if he does show up, he could effortlessly establish himself into the society for more than just his ginormous girth.

So this brief overview covers a couple of things about Don Thousand that is, in my opinion, highly fascinating. Although it isn’t clear yet, Don Thousand’s rocky shell and carapace borrow certain unique elements from the other Barians. Examples of shared defense mechanisms include:

”SWISH” mechanism* —> Scritch, Erazor, Mr. Heartland (FF)

Talons capped with carapace —> Scritch, Mr. Heartland (FF)

Insignia* —> Unique to Seven Emperor Barians (SE)

Center eyeball —> Mr. Heartland (FF)

This tells us a couple of things. Either the smaller Barians adopt traits from Don Thousand and incorporate it into their own body plan… OR Don Thousand incorporated some of the best defense mechanism of the smaller Barians into his form, thus increasing his overall fitness by being the best of the best, drastically reducing any chance he has of being killed. The implications of this is that Don Thousand doesn’t belong to one Barian group but to many Barian groups, and he reigns over all of them whenever he emerges from the ocean. Think of Don Thousand as a “God of the Barians” if you will. He will always be at the top of the pecking order (although the presence of an Insignia* suggests that he is closest to the Seven Emperor Barians).

*Further explanation in latter half

Final Consensus: Despite being as intimidating as a predator, Don Thousand is still a prey Barian who utilizes his large size and in-common traits to avoid predation. He’s just very large.

heyyo fearsome fucksome time mothertruckers

Moving on from the God that is Don Thousand, let’s examine the Fearsome Foursome.

I know what you want to hear. “Dyzarc! What the fuck are you doing. Where in the world does the Fearsome Foursome fit into the Barian pecking order?? Does Nasch get dethroned by these buggy barbarian bozos?”

To begin, upon looking at the two groups below:

I do not believe it is logical to integrate the Fearsome Foursome into the Seven Emperors pecking order.

Why?

Simply put, these Barians groups do not belong together. Barians are similar to orca pods on Earth.

^^Example of different orca types due to regional differences. The same concept applies to Barians, but they show more severe variation due to the differences in their environments as well as natural variation as a direct result of unique rack-building and inconsistent molting environments. Different cultures also mean that the groups are not exactly equal to each other*

*This is not to say one group is inferior or superior to the other, but they are built for different purposes and thus are not comparable

To be frank, the Seven Emperor Barians are actually very easy to distinguish from other groups by examining their physical appearance alone. The most concrete evidence of a Seven Emperor Barian is to look on their chest for a distinctive carapace, an Insignia, seen here:

SIDE-NOTE: Another Barian with an Insignia is Don Thousand. This provides further evidence that he may be a part of the Seven Emperor colony or allude to the idea that Don Thousand is truly the “Barian God” that presides over every Barian colony, thus adopting the customs and traits of each group (Ex. Wings and Needle (swish) of the Fearsome Foursome) in order to better his survival rate.

Habitat and behavior also plays a major role in separating the groups, which applies more to the Fearsome Foursome due to their unique circumstance, but to simplify the topic, a general rule of thumb is:

Insignia = SE

No Insignia = Not SE

The Fearsome Foursome Barians all lack an Insignia and therefore should not be included within the Seven Emperor pecking order. Instead, they have their own pecking order established, which relies on different traits than the ones of the Seven Emperor Barians.

Of course, a difference in body structure doesn’t inherently discern a Fearsome Foursome Barian from a Seven Emperor Barian, but these physical characteristics (just look at them and you can see that something is amok) tells us that the Fearsome Foursome Barians are reacting to something that Seven Emperor Barians are not. However, since their body plans stem from the presence of Astral Beings, a rather uniform factor all things considered, this tells us that the Fearsome Foursome Barians are tailoring their form in response to the Astral Beings specifically.

But how could this happen? A Barian is a Barian is a Barian. Shouldn’t they all be a single entity/rely on the same mechanisms since they live on the same planet?

It isn’t completely clear what truly distinguishes a Fearsome Foursome Barian to a Seven Emperors Barian (and any other colonies) aside from the Insignia or why the Barians separate themselves into colonies — although it could be due to a high territorial drive, since Barians need a lot space to molt, and the more populated the group, the harder it is to find a good spot to repair and regrow their form; creating colonies is a good way to ensure good molting locations or a safer place to live — but the best place to look is:

A) Where they live and What is the end goal of their body plan. These two are not mutually exclusive to each other.

(Note: SE has more territory due to being a larger colony than the FF; larger colony = more space required for molting)

For the Seven Emperors, their habitat range is located here:

Along with residing in the enclosed forest, the biggest takeaway from this is that the Seven Emperor Barians live very close to the Sea of Ill Intent. As previously discussed, the acid sea allows for the Barians to effectively retreat into the acid from a pursuing predator. Once in the acid, they are generally safe from harm and it is highly unlikely that they will get killed. For the Seven Emperors, since they reside very close to the Sea of Ill Intent, when they are in danger, they can easily flee into the acid to protect themselves. As long as they do not wander too far from the sea, their primary defense mechanism is the Sea of Ill Intent.

This also supports how Don Thousand, a Barian who frequents the Sea of Ill Intent, has an Insignia that belongs to the Seven Emperors on his chest. Since Don Thousand and the Seven Emperors live in the same general area, by being in close proximity alone, Don Thousand is most integrated into the Seven Emperors colony and uses the Insignia (which does little for protection; used more for aesthetic/pecking order) for no other discernible reason than to just have it.

Now note where the Fearsome Foursome live:

They are not near the sea. They live further inland within the crystal pillar forests or at the edge of the great Barian Desert, therefore they do not have a go-to “safe-zone” to retreat to if they are attacked. Their defense mechanism comes from whatever ingenious way they designed their bodies to protect themselves. I will cover these mechanisms later.

(Think of these as the differences between bonobos and chimpanzees. Different species, yet they are very closely related. The discussion of these two species is intriguing on its own, but what I want to get across is that bonobos are less aggressive than chimpanzees. This is mainly due to the environment they evolved in, where the bonobos’ ancestors came from a place of “paradise” or abundance in food while the chimpanzees’ ancestor came from a place of scarcity. To survive in the hostile and tough environment, the chimpanzees became more aggressive/ingenious, as in they have territorial fights, engage in hunting activities, and use tools to find food.)

The analogy above can be used to describe why the Fearsome Foursome are so different compared to Seven Emperors.

For the Seven Emperors, the end goal is to create a body for placement in the pecking order. They use a rack system to establish pecking order (which is more for aesthetic when compared to the utter shit the FF put onto their bodies). Although they can use the racks to protect themselves, the usage of a huge rack shows that they devote valuable resources (or have resources to spare) to make themselves more aesthetically pleasing. In a sense, the Seven Emperors are living in a more calm, less hostile environment.

For the Fearsome Foursome, the end goal of their body plan is to make anything worthwhile in terms of defense to make up for the lack of Sea of Ill Intent. Most of their molting energy is devoted into creating a body that will protect them from a gruesome death, which means they have less resources for rack-building. In a sense, the Fearsome Foursome are living in the more hostile environment.

Now that we covered why the groups are different, let’s examine what these differences are starting with a commonly shared trait among the Fearsome Foursome.

Aside from living in the same range, the clearest answer that links this diverse cast of Barians (Scritch, Chironex, Mr. Heartland, and Erazor) into the same category would be their usage of an elaborate Defense Mechanism. The Seven Emperors have a rocky shell and carapaces as their defenses against Astral Beings, and so do the Fearsome Foursome. Yet, the Fearsome Foursome Barian include those basic characteristics with the addition of something else. This could be seen in the carapaces alone.

Even when excluding the Duel Disks, notice how heavily fortified the Fearsome Foursome Barians are compared to that of the Seven Emperors Barians. The Seven Emperors usually have smaller, one-sided pieces covering their shoulders or torso while the Fearsome Foursome’s carapaces tend to wrap around their entire body and more. This is one example to show the difference in defense mechanism between the two groups, but obviously the Fearsome Foursome goes further with this concept.

So back in the Don Thousand breakdown, I mentioned something called the SWISH. Swishing is a type of defense mechanism.

To “swish”, one will need a frontal protection and a dorsal protection. In the case of the Fearsome Foursome, they use a frontal needle and dorsal wings. Barians are extremely heavy and do not require food to survive, so it is very unlikely that the needle belongs to a mouth piece and the wing pieces aid with flight (so far, there has been no accounts of True Barians in flight). Therefore, the wings and needles serve another purpose.

Okay. So how does SWISH work?

(Simulation; no Astral Beings were harmed in the video above)

Standing for SWord/needle and SHield/wings as well as the noises it makes when a Barian starts flapping or stabbing (use your imagination) and found in ¾ of the Fearsome Foursome Barians + Don Thousand, this is a basic but effective defense mechanism witnessed mainly in the vulnerable Fearsome Foursome Barians. The wings on the back provide backside protection. The Barian can also rapidly flap the wing pieces in order to shake off any Astral Being latching onto its backside. If the Astral Being tries to attack the Barian from the front, it must deal with a piercing needle constantly jabbing at it. This means that if an Astral Being wants to access the Barians’ core at all — which is located at the center of their chest — they must deal with the swish. Compared to the defense mechanism of the Seven Emperors, this is a very elaborate gimmick.

And speaking of elaborate gimmicks, I am going to focus heavily on Scritch and Chironex’s gimmicks for two reasons: they both have fascinating defenses, and Erazor and Mr. Heartland main defense strategy is “cover in spikes and carapaces” along with the swish mechanism. Overall, they are far less complex than Scritch and Chironex.

(Also I am a duper lazy dragon and feel like this torture is long enough and I really dont want to stare at barian heartland and erazor for another 2 hours.)

Let’s first look at Scritch, who is my new adopted son btw. Scritch is one of the most intriguing Barians out of this group, and this isn’t my personal preference towards him playing a role into this. Despite not being the most complex Barian, he certainly employs an interesting tactic (if my theories are correct).

Taking a glance at his coloration reveals a couple things about his mechanism, especially if we compare him to some similar species found on Earth.

This banded coloration is a product of a variety of things, such as the Barian utilizing disruptive coloration or warning colors. In this case, the Barian environment consist mainly of shades of reds, thus the disruptive coloration may not be very useful to this Barian. But what is useful? Warning colors. This is a commonly-used tactic in animals with brightly colored or flashy skin, such as poison dart frogs. The bright and striking bands on Scritch will make this Barian an easy target to spot and kill in the reddish tint of the planet, yet it could also be a signal to the predators that he is “not a good meal to eat”.

On one hand, the colors could be nothing more than a bluff, and it wouldn’t be too surprising if Scritch used the colors as a facade to scare off predators. But I think otherwise. If it was a bluff, Scritch wouldn’t have survive this long against bold or unaware Astral Beings, nor will his facade last if enough predators keep pestering him. My theory, and it is only a theory with no other evidence to back it up other than logic maybe, is that Scritch has pockets of some Alkali metals (pure sodium, for example) located in parts of his body like behind the mask carapace or within the bright red claws. For those unaware, Alkali metals are highly reactive to water, which is what the Astral Beings are made of, and can explode if they make contact with it. If an Astral Being attacks him, he can deploy the metals, harm the Astral Being, then skedaddle away while the predator is disorganized.

This could heavily damage the Barian in the process, but since they could always molt: temporary losing a limb > death. The banded coloration on his body signals to the Astral Beings to back off or else they’ll eat a face-full of sodium. This is only a theory however, and I cannot prove it unless we throw water at Scritch to see if he can explode. Which I absolutely cannot legally do because the Fearsome Foursome Barians are critically endangered (some problem with an invasive species, but the less we talk bout those three hooligans, the better) and I should not make Scritch explode.

Lastly, let us discuss a Barian who most likely won’t explode if water touches him.

Chironex is another Barian with the presence of a fully-mechanical mouth. As with the other Fearsome Foursome Barians, Chironex doesn’t follow the body plan of a Seven Emperor. His body is covered mostly in thick carapaces, which is similar to the other Fearsome Foursome members. However, his physical appearance is drastically different than the other Fearsome Foursome Barians as well, such as the lack of protective wing pieces and needle-nose for effective swishing. At first glance, it’s difficult to tell where this one belongs. Based on his physiology, he doesn’t look anything like Fearsome Foursome or a Seven Emperor. He could’ve belonged to his own colony altogether.

This is a case where the similarities goes beyond their physical appearance. Take Canis lupus familiaris, for example, where the physical differences among each breed can look drastically different from one another yet they still fall under the same species (for dogs, they are considered the same species since most breeds can produce viable offspring if mated and they still have an exceedingly similar genome).

Like a breed of dog, Chironex is a Fearsome Foursome. Chironex lives within the boundary of the Fearsome Foursome range, interacts with the other Fearsome Foursome Barians, and his behavioral patterns follows that of a Fearsome Foursome. He also has a valuable place in the Fearsome Foursome pecking order. Despite not looking like one, Chironex is most certainly a Fearsome Foursome.

So knowing that, about his gimmick…

Chironex has a gimmick alright. And boy is it a gimmick. I want you to look at this image.

Note what the carapaces cover and what lies underneath the carapaces.

Now here’s our high-quality artist rendition of Chironex without his thick carapaces:

And here he is standing next to an Astral Being for comparison:

Notice something peculiar about this situation?

As you can see, the base form of Chironex (aka a Chironex without the layers of carapa—naked, i mean hes utterly nude) looks strikingly similar to the form of an Astral Being. Very smooth with a bluish tint, and a mouth, which is an extremely important body part on an Astral Being. And it is absolutely no coincident that Chironex looks like an Astral Being.

It is completely deliberate because Chironex uses a very advance form camouflage — mimicry. Not only does his defense mechanism involve mimicking another species but he is mimicking his predator species. This means his facade has to be very convincing if he wants to survive. Impressively enough, the behavior of this Barian also changes in order to aid his survival, such as his fascination with water and so-forth. Furthermore, Chironex’s base form has a very “jellyfish” feel to it. This is noteworthy because jellyfishes are comprised of 95% water, give or take, and basing himself around jellyfishes add more layers onto his mimicry.

The change in behavior coupled with well-done mimicry is one of the most elaborate defense mechanism in the natural world, so Chironex obviously has a good place in the Fearsome Foursome pecking order.

*In my opinion, I find the idea of exploding Scritches to be a lot more interesting than mimicry but y’kno how it is.

Here is the pecking order of the Fearsome Foursome:

And here is the pecking order of the Fearsome Foursome + Seven Emperors + Don K. for those curious on how the Barians compare to each other (if they had to beat each other up or sumthin idk)

And here’s the pecking order based on what I think the pecking order should be. No bias or anything, just based on logical progression

OKAY. If you’re still reading this, congrats! I love you.

We are on the final topic of this discussion. The VOREeee. Or are all Barians innocent or are only the Seven Emperors innocent?

Let’s look at the candidates for this:

Seven Emperors - Previously discussed

Scritch and Erazor - SAFE*

Don Thousand - SAFEish**

Chironex and Mr. Heartland - UNSAFE feel free to vore with em you sick fucks i know i will***

* Scritch and Erazor lack a visible mouth like the rest of the Seven Emperors, so they do fall under the “innocent” Barians.

**Don Thousand is a strange case due to one specific scene.

Right here, Don Thousand’s lowest eyeball turns into a gaping hole and proceeds to inhale Vector into it. This is clearly vore in some sense of the way, which I will not deny. HOWEVER, this opens the door to the concept of eye vore (not strange considering that anal vore, navel vore, cock vore, you-name-it exists) and since all the Barians have eyeballs, or what appears like functioning eyeballs, they are all capable of performing eye vore. wtf i didnt think of that and I do not know what to do with that information except say go nuts.

***With Chironex, I am willing to let him off the hook since he is involved in the act of mimicry, so the mouth could be false. This doesn’t let him off the hook for vore, of course, but my explanation is that the mouth is non-functional because it is the sole result of a mimicking disguise.

With Mr. Heartland…

uh his mouth is a…

oh god jesus chrisus hold up,, let me check my notes

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