Rewriting Of Monstergirls (compilation)

Fuck it, here we go. I am Aquillon on /tg/. I am also the writefag once known as the Wonderland Rewriter. Now I am Suffering-Anon (Sith-Anon on /sw/, I might make a separate paste for that), named for my tendency towards bittersweet and pain before joy. I can also be known as Lovecraft-anon, for my enjoyment of eldritch. My style is usually pseudo-academic, though I might go back into proper story-writing one day.  Enough about me, though.   Here is what I have from my profiles across /monster/. It will expand with time.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwCK_EeA7P0
By current methods, the soul can be called a kind of energy emanating across the body from the brain and spine, but invisible to those without gifts such as second sight or scrying. This emanation forms a pattern unique to the individual, their self if you will. Death causes this pattern to exit the individual and dissipate, either dissolving entirely, remaining trapped on the World as a shade, or being drawn to one spiritual realm or another. While resurrective magic is costly, to say nothing of heavily restricted, it can work on a corpse less than an hour dead. After that point, the individual has gone on to meet their ancestors and gods.  It should be said that active belief in a deity "attunes" a soul to that god's realm, its rules, and therefore to a particular existence after death. Duat, the Elysian Fields, Takamanohara, Makai, Heaven, and Hell are all examples of this existence.

A soul's removal does not cause death, so much as a body's reversion to a state resembling motile catatonia. Respiration, ingestion of food and drink, and slumber all occur, however the victim responds to no outside action. This state can only be remedied by the return of the soul or a soul. This empty body is vulnerable to possession, and the sort of magical mutation usually protected against by the soul's presence.

A spiritual attack is an outside attempt to forcibly alter the soul's pattern or wrest control of the body from its owner. Usually only potent entities can make the attempt, and only things of great potency can override the soul's defense without first weakening the individual. Active defense is usually done by force of will, spiritual aids, and prayer, though some magical wards have been devised as well.

On shades, these usually result from strong regrets or hatreds possessed by the deceased. These will bind the shade to the World until the condition is satisfied, after which they may pass away. The science of Ghosts will be explained in the relevant entry. And not a day before I do a thorough research of the subject.

What are the spiritual realms? They are those metaphysical pocket domains connected yet also separate from the World, usually through specific locations found upon our sphere. The Olympians, for instance, have an entrance to their realm at the peak of Mount Olympos. Forces of Heaven and Hell have been known to create temporary breaches in the fabric of reality for their own entrances, and to close them once their tasks are complete. These two are among the largest of the spiritual realms, and are the eldest known. What is unknown is how they maintain these domains, though plentiful theories exist. One of the least popular of them is that the souls which arrive shore up the realms' structure.  On the opposite tack is the notion that the Creator keeps all of them intact through His own will.  Despite this author having spoken to one of the involved gods' children, no answers have been forthcoming.

The soul arrives in the realms of its final(?) rest through a process known as metempsychosis. Souls are conveyed in the rough direction of their realm by their attuning, and usually guided into those places by the assigned variously named psychopomps. Some of these are more specialized than others, such as the Valkyrie of the Norse, who only comes for a soldier and warrior (and only those who have earned her attention). Others collect many souls at once to take onward. It is a busy and neverending duty, made frantic in times of war, plague, or famine. As for how they are stored there and preserved, the answer is once more not forthcoming. It is speculated that the divine energies and holy presence of the gods halts any disintegration by proximity.

First, the Cheshire: https://web.archive.org/web/20150719040048/http://8ch.net/monster/res/54832.html#56967
https://web.archive.org/web/20151002110852/http://8ch.net/monster/res/64743.html  2015 threads for reference
https://8ch.net/monster/res/291699.html 2017 thread for reference and questions/ideas about Wonderlanders (will be replaced with backup)

Type:Oikos
Class:Feline

Wonderlanders are all creatures of dreams and consciousness, as is their home. And dreams, as well we know, can shift to nonsense and nightmare with ease.

Cheshires aren't the stablest of the Wonderlanders by any means (though most inhabitants of that strange pseudo-realm will scoff at the notion of sanity being a thing of value), but they are held as the most skilled actors and writers from whence they came (there is a quiet rivalry between them and shapeshifting Mamano over their mutual capacity to fool and bedevil). While each Cheshire prefers to keep a wide territory away from her kind,  as a general rule this species of Mamono values wit, improvisation, and adaptation highly. When individuals of their kind meet, Cheshires will seek to outdo each other in technically polite volley of veiled insults, backhanded compliments, optical illusions, and minor space-shifting pranks. It is said that the land afterwards will smell strongly of lavender and afternoon tea.

Despite their carnivorous nature, Cheshire Cats typically abhor direct violence in favor of trapping or tricking their prey into their demise. Anything more direct is "so very verily uncivilized." This extends to their dealings with humans and other Mamono: whenever possible, the Cheshire will evade, trip up, discombobulate, disorientate, and distract any possible threat until they have given up hostilities. For this reason, some of their kind moonlight as security planners and designers (though they have to be kept on a short leash, as a bored Cheshire may go beyond the bounds of a functioning plan).

Cheshire Cats are infamous for their teasing, playful, and often demented antics directed at humans who have taken their fancy. While this is best known by their lovers and spouses, the behavior extends to platonic friends and in-laws (as with all Wonderlanders, Cheshires put a peculiar value on the trappings of "civilization," though what civilization that is has been up for vigorous debate). Using all of her powers of wit, illusion, and space-warping, she will trip up, prank, troll, and otherwise drive her target to utter distraction. The more extreme of these methods only have full effectiveness inside man-made structures, of which inversion of gravity and complication of interior layout are typical favorites in the feline arsenal. The victim will usually be rewarded with poetry and limericks of the Cat's own invention, coupled with a cup of supernaturally strong tea (which she will insist she 'borrowed' from the March Hare; the number of cups delivered with this excuse since the Cheshires' discovery has made its validity rather dubious), before resuming her silliness. This treatment intensifies if the target attempts to ignore the Cheshire, though the Cats have been known to lessen their efforts if the target is incapable of showing notice (comatose, in a medical state of shock, dead, et cetera).

To those the Cat intends to court, however, the term "fuzzy chatty gadfly" has been applied.

It is here that this document concerns itself with the Cheshire Cat's grin. A Cat wears a near-perpetual smile on her face, as she and her kind find any sort of outsider amusing (and enjoy the reaction such a smile provokes). A Cat's smile widens or narrows depending on her mood, with many subtle gradations few outside their kind can understand. It is also usually the first and last part any living thing sees of the Cheshire. As such, each Cat takes good care of her teeth (it would be "very verily uncivilized" not to). But for a potential mate, the Cat polishes her smile to a gleaming mirror sheen.

Said gleaming teeth shall literally be the first thing the target will see of her, typically no more than a meter in front of them. If the target does not flee in that instant, the Cheshire will manifest the rest of her head and introduce herself. Never in that initial conversation will she make clear her real intentions, just intimating that she would like a friend to "practice with" and "come by for tea." If the object of her desire accepts this offer (with a murky definition of "acceptance"), then for an indefinite period of time, the Cheshire will focus all her efforts on the target. During this time, she will endeavor to stay within at least one hundred feet of her target, spending much of her free time on devising pranks and ways to catch her desired one off-guard.

Thanks to the bizarre nature of the Wonderlanders, and in particular the Cheshire, sleep is by no means an escape from the series of steadily raunchier pranks. Cats may remotely monitor their chosen mate remotely while asleep. In fact, the Cheshire will begin appearing in the target's dreams once their sleep cycles are synchronized, inviting them to do whatever they wish with her. As is the nature of dreams, everything from romps across cities made of song, to vicious verbal sparring through fields of crystal, to wild spontaneous airborne orgies among thick clouds of lavendar perfume may happen and not be questioned.

Accounts of Wonderland are often held as fantastical even by the "real" world's standards, and often contradict between recounters. However, since the Cheshire Cats are the most cooperative sources on this pseudorealm (the others either too insane by reasonable standards, answering vaguely, or in the Jabberwock's case, redirecting all conversation to focus on itself and its domains), their word is seen as the most reliable. As is their nature, they can be anywhere from coy, to shockingly frank, to completely esoteric and metaphorical on the subject, shifting as it fits their whims (and the grammar of the questioner; one has to be careful about how they phrase their query, lest the Cheshire take delight in bogging them down in feigned ignorance and inanity).

According to the Cats, their role in Wonderland for centuries has been to guide outsiders and saner residents through the pseudorealm safely. This role is explicitly apolitical and neutral by "ancient and most civilized writ," and so they "help" every traveller they meet, be they cooperative or not. Many of those still dwelling in Wonderland do owe an allegiance to an entity known as the Duchess of Spice (part of the writ, apparently), but in general they are left alone (a visit once per year is required, though). As for the "help," they keep travellers safe from the pseudorealm's dangers, but seem quite happy to send their followers through all sorts of (debatably) more harmless local phenomena (going by the complaints of those who have returned). They consider it a "good education" for visitor to see Wonderland, whether they wish to or not, and will make headspinning smalltalk to their captive audience at random intervals.

Well, it should be quite telling, my dear sirs, that felis invisibilis fassiculis consider seriously injuring partners deliberately or by complete accident a dire taboo (in fact, that's one of the very few things that can make a Cheshire grimace). So, as is natural, the good Cat makes sure to practice on other things with fluid or electrical flow until no splash or discharge happens and all is functional as normal.

Such careful semi-puppeteering is for startling, and then for pleasurable experimentation in private.

As for where they live, well sir, it depends. Some choose to live fully in the "real" world with all its messes and glories. Most, however, choose a location to receive their mail, and then establish a fold in the worsted of reality, linked with the pseudorealm of Wonderland. It acts as both antechamber and bedroom, locked for that particular Cat's personal use and hidden from prying eyes, of course. Only those she lets in (or those with FAR more power and clevernss than she in Wonderland) may enter.

Madness. This is something which happens to every single Wonderlander monster girl, and is linked to that mamono's racial personality. They are affected by it every waking hour of their lives, experiencing lucidity in short bursts. It is not curable, but it can be mitigated through care and interaction. Each kind of Wonderlander has their own unique form of Madness. Cheshire Cats, for example, see all of reality as something to be laughed at. With everything, their minds twist and turn to find the comical absurdity. This makes them brilliant at lateral thinking, but as a result they can have great difficulty approaching what they want "normally." A saner Cheshire will be called boring by her peers.

The Madness typically has a periodic sub condition called Quickening, wherein the mental condition intensifies (or inverts) and the Mamono's body undergoes a physical transformation. The Quickening usually corresponds with celestial phenomena (not necessarily the full Moon, more the placement/alignment of planets and stars). It happens at least once a year, even as often as once a month, and lasts up to twenty four hours. With Cheshires, this condition starts with unusually grim and bleak observations where the "punchline" is increasingly harder to find. The condition worsens as the Cheshire brings up more and more nonsensical observations, then sentences, then phrases, then words, unable to stop grinning and chuckling at them the whole time. Her physical transformation is no less alarming, as her normally clean and smooth coat becomes coarse and matted, her claws knifelike and yellowed, and her mouth inhumanly wide, filled with jagged teeth. There is no mischievous sparkle in a Quickened Cheshire's eyes, only confusion, frustration, sadness, resignation, or (in the case of a Cat experiencing it for the first time) outright fear. Silencing the Cat through a gag or muzzle only stops one of the symptoms, and does nothing for her peace of mind. To grant her that, it's best to keep talking back to her, steering the Cat along with word association games and charades. It's vital that you do this to stop her from panicking or despairing and using her powers in uncontrolled flailing. Thus focused (and you have to keep trying until she can), one word at a time you've given the Cheshire back some control of herself. Once the time has passed, the Cheshire Cat gradually reverts to normal.  It goes without saying that couples which make it through their first Quickening without breakup tend to be much stronger for it.

The other thing that can get her razor-focused is if another female tries to take her mate from her in that state. Cheshires will not tolerate this in the least, and while it would be "very verily uncivilized" to attack their rival with their bare claws, she will cheerfully inform them that she is not feeling very civilized at the moment. Rumors abound of starved mamono staggering into town days after a Quickening event muttering about mazes and mocking laughter. Bottom line, don't challenge a Cheshire Cat to become a Saber-toothed Tiger.
(This is just at its most dramatic; the condition can be watered down according to the writefag's desire, but the monstrous appearance, bleaker humor, and lack of inhibitions stays)

Next, the Jabberwock:
Type:Philotimo
Class:Draconic

Their Madness is Hubris, borne from their powerful and nearly invincible bodies, and the propensity for cruelty that comes of that. "Wild" ones can be said to behave like vicious hentai supervillains like Smaug, but with rape as well as devastation, while "domestic" ones born into human locales tend to be haughty ojous if they aren't raised right, they can turn into the former type. Courting one is similar to what a Lizard does plus something of Pygmalion, but they take it further. Quickening: Physically, she comes to resemble classic pictures of the Jabberwocky, complete with membranous "goggles" over her eyes and elongated limbs (including the neck). Mentally, one of two things can happen: a profound state of perceived solipsism (to point she doubts even her Vorpal Wielder's existence and has to be forcibly "reassured"), or a reversion to villainous type a la Majin Vegeta. The second is mercifully rarer, but also leads to much nostalgia in the aftermath.

"[b]Worthless lavender trrramp, you thought you could guide your host past ME? And YOU, huuuuHAHAHAHAHaaaarrrgh, you came here for What? Mysteries, carnal frivolities, maybe a moment's company to fill your pointless life? Hahahaaargh, but perhaps your life DOES have a point now: to serve MY pleasure, and MY appetite! You should feel HONORRRED, chhhild of Man! You will die in the ecstasy and terror only a Jabberwock can bring![/b]"

Of all the creatures found in Wonderland, few are more feared and hated than the Jabberwock. A subspecies of Dragon altered by the pseudorealm's weirdling magic, Jabberwocks differ in both physiology and psychology: they are all vainglorious, haughty, vicious, cruel, and full of craft. Where dragons are proud creatures, Jabberwocks take their egomania to excessive extremes, all existing for either their conquest or their gratification (the only exception being the Queen of Hearts, one of only two things they fear). Their madness is not without cause, for they are the strongest entities in Wonderland.

Theirs are the claws that catch, and the multiple jaws that can either pleasure or rend apart.

The Jabberwock's physical strength and durability are both exponentially greater than that of a typical dragon. They are also swifter, and their reflexes are constantly honed to near-perfection.

More visible, however, are the two additional limbs emanating from out of the Jabberwock's lower back (giving them a grand total of nine appendages, not counting the head). These are a pair of sinuous necks ending in rounded reptilian jaws, disturbingly humanlike teeth glistening within, the Jabberwock's secondary mouths. From these maws comes one of the dragon's most potent weapons, a pinkish haze reeking of blood and roses (whether white or red, the Queen could not be reached for comment). This pink haze drives any man who strays in it into a passionate fury, forcing him to engage the Jabberwock in her chosen forms of combat. Thus, whether he was fearful of the dragon, or ready and aroused, he will be unable to retreat once exposed.

The main mouth of the Jabberwock is filled with knife-like rending teeth, often used in the coup de grace, or if the dragon is in a particularly sadistic mood.

A Jabberwock relishes a fight. It enjoys dominating the engagement from start to finish, showing off by grabbing polearm blades with their bare claws, snapping plate mail with well-placed bites, and powering through offensive magic like it was merely a strong wind. More than a fight, however, a Jabberwock enjoys the spoils of victory. Anything of value on the victims' persons will be removed and placed on display in the dragon's manor-cave. It is here also that the Jabberwock will have her way with any surviving captives. Man, woman, human or Mamono, the Jabberwock will violate them, forcing them to sing her praises on pain of immediate execution. Should their voices give out, the Jabberwock will gleefully take their head off, before consuming their body at their leisure. If there are multiple captives, there is a strong chance that the Jabberwock will allow one to live, and even escape, on the condition that they spread the tale of her fearsome might, and how any other woman is ruined for them.

Should another dragon, whatever the type, enter the Jabberwock's territory, she will do everything in her power to humiliate and break the wyrm, taking special delight in the act if they have a close mate.

It is said that a being of such cruelty cannot have a heart. By magical edict of the Queen, this is true… up to a point. There is only one way to give a Jabberwock a heart, and it is a way those dragons will fight tooth-and-claw to prevent.

Polearms do not faze a Jabberwock. Arrows make a Jabberwock laugh. Spears draw scorn from the Jabberwock. And handgonnes, well, a bit of pain, but really it will only make the dragon mad.  But the sword is another thing entirely. The moment a Jabberwock spots a swordwielder, she regards his weapon with utmost scrutiny.  That kind of blade is the only weapon a Jabberwock fears, but contrary to what certain scholars would tell you, it must be steel, and above all it cannot have so much as a scratch on the cutting edge or point. Such a sharpened, perfect sword deserves the title Vorpal, and is recognized as such by the ancient magic of Wonderland.

Should she spot the weapon, the Jabberwock will move with all of her strength and speed to eliminate the wielder first. She will not bother to capture them. Instead she will render them into so much mincemeat and devour them (snapping the sword into multiple pieces for insurance). This is therefore a guaranteed duel for the Vorpal wielder's life, and the ultimate test of their skill. Merely possessing such a flawless blade will not save them. From that point on, the wielder must either slash or stab into the flesh of the dragon's chest with killing force.  They will know they have struck true when the "snicker-SNAK" of an immense metal lock shakes the wielder's bones, and the agonized shriek of the Jabberwock fills their ears.

Boiling, steaming blood will spray directly from the dragon's heart onto the wielder, scalding indelible marks on their skin (and, unbeknownst to them, their soul).  The Jabberwock bleeds for the first time in her life, a disturbing moment for a creature of her power. In her shock, the dragon sinks to her knees. In her agony, she bows her head. Both of these involuntary actions are coded by the Queen's magic, so that they automatically face the Vorpal wielder. The Jabberwock becomes aware of this detail only after it is already too late to change direction.

Naturally, the Jabberwock's first impulse will be to fly into a destructive rage. Except that such an impulse wars with a variety of new feelings: wonder. The Vorpal wielder is the first being to ever draw blood from the Jabberwock in combat.  The first glimmers of respect join the fight. A hint of fear wells up; the Jabberwock realizes that she is mortal. Questions, so many questions arise, particularly with regard to the alien warmth that comes with looking on her opponent.

Physically, the Jabberwock is the same, a towering, extra-limbed, beautiful monstrosity of scales and horns. In terms of who she is, the dragon has just begun to grow. The last part of this peculiar rite (for that is what it is) consists of the Jabberwock looking her Vorpal wielder in the eye and calmly asking them to finish her, if they so desire. True, this choice has ended a Jabberwock half the time… the other half, however, has the wielder spare her, as much out of confusion as compassion. From that point onwards, the wielder of the Vorpal sword and the Jabberwock will begin a bizarre and dangerous courtship, one which makes the attentions of a Cheshire Cat seem positively tame at times.

Picture if you will a certain handsome, cruel, egomaniacal young noble from a far-off land.

This is the rough starting point from where the Vorpal wielder's Jabberwock companion shall begin. Empathy and compassion are alien concepts, ones which will repel her as seeming unreasonably weak. The Jabberwock respects the wielder for their strength and skill in besting her, and is keenly interested in finding out more about that man and why he spared her. She will also not allow any other force to take his life. This by no means suddenly changes her into the perfect loving mate. In fact, the wielder may find himself regretting having stayed his hand.

The Jabberwock will enquire and investigate every detail of her new companion, using everything from casual prodding to cajoling/interrogating friends and family (either through disguise or through bullied intermediaries, either way, the Jabberwock can quickly become a creature of craft and superficial charm). Usually such questioning comes over tea, or weekly requests for sparring.  Once she has uncovered enough information, the dragon will commence the next stage of her courtship: harrowing. The Jabberwock begins to play on the wielder's insecurities and flaws, often after seemingly innocent calls to sparring matches. As her remarks become more vicious and cutting, so too do her strikes become more aggressive, less and less restrained. Her aim is to see whether the wielder gives into despair (which will draw mocking laughter and potentially an injuring blow), or instead flies into a rage (which will excite her).  Either outcome will typically result in the match ending with the pair on the ground, nose-to-nose and in each other's arms (though with the positioning determined by the outcome).

Almost never will the Jabberwock predict the wielder coming to peace with their inner demons. In the event that this happens, the dragon will be so baffled and surprised that she will often outright lose the sparring match.  Immediately after that, the invariable huffy response is "I, [insert Jabberwock's name], 'let' you do that. Don't get ideas, worm, they do not suit you."

This is typically the point at which the harrowing stage ends. The Jabberwock has to settle down for few days and think over what this means.  During this time, she will be somewhat absentmindedly affectionate, though pointing this out to the dragon is typically not a wise idea.  The next stage is less emotionally traumatic, but physically is another matter: pecking order.

Now is when a Jabberwock takes on a new question, which the Vorpal wielder must answer if they are to live: Who's really in charge here?

This question is provoked by how many instances in a relatively short amount of time the wielder has made her question herself. Now that the shock and musing have worn away, the Jabberwock feels another new emotion: Anger. And it is wrath laced with excitement.

The first act of the phase is an intense scrutiny on the dragon's part, studying every square inch of the Vorpal wielder's body (with a…mostly clinical detachment). At sunrise, the wielder will find his Vorpal blade impaled at the peak of the nearest mountain (or tall tree, if no mountains are about). It is clearly visible, but will require much toil to reach.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfKgol6t58Q Music

 Before he can possibly go after it, however, the Jabberwock swoops down, rose-tinted mist surrounding her like an aura before spreading out. It is here that she announces her intent, to test the man behind the sword. All sparring will now be done hand-to-claw, all day, every day, until either the wielder breaks down, he wins, or both combatants collapse. Should the first of these events happen, the Jabberwock states that she is as liable to devour him as make him a slave.

The dragon allows for a period of time to properly wake up, and then the duel begins. Before besting her, the wielder will have already been strong. Practicing with the blade against her will have made him faster and more focused. His mind is resilient, having triumphed against her own cruel wit and insight. He will need all of that accumulated strength and skill to survive, and more: the Jabberwock's bloody mark on his soul allows him a limited degree of mirroring precognition, along with a resistance to the fogging effects of her mist (or any other creature with similar abilities).

And none of these things guarantee a victory. But they do make it possible.  This is the Jabberwock's last chance to turn away from what they are becoming. It is also the final turn of the key, if she is to have a heart.

Blows fly, fast and hard. The Jabberwock has nine limbs at her disposal, and will use every one of them to fight; claws slashing, jaws snapping, tail slicing, and wings battering. Where she strikes, flesh bruises or tears. Haze chokes or blinds, and hot purple flames roar from her mouth.

 The dragon only allows rest for meals and sleep, and will only allow rudimentary medical care for wounds that will kill the wielder quickly if not tended to, willpower or no willpower (open arteries, for instance). Yes, they tend to look unduly alarmed should this happen—for a half-second, then it's back to a fanged snarl. During this clash of wills, the wielder's healing may be bolstered. Their powers of recovery are not, however, which necessitates the rest. The Jabberwock increasingly needs it too as the days go on, as the link between the two solidifies

The longer the duels go, the more talkative the Jabberwock gets. The following is recorded from the tale of one pairing, and may not represent all of them.

>"Grrrrgh, you really thought you were special,  softling wretch? PFAH! The only thing you knew how to do was wield a sword when first you met me! You were useless otherwise!"

>"Looook at what you are trying to accomplish, you puling fool. You could barely survive me with your sword, how do you dare hope to win without it? Futile, futile, FUTIIIIIILE! RAAAAAAAAAGH!"

>"YOU…! That was…rrrrr… the second time I've had to help you staunch that artery! Do you understand how… feeble your soft flesh is yet?! What… hope can you have of victory? You will die with your delusion!"

>"Grrraahhhk… A man…-hah- a boy, contesting a dragon…It is as…laughable an idea as a monkey… against a lion. You're bleeding from every limb. Your carotid artery…I've nicked it. I know I cracked your…collar bone in the same pass….I can see the agony in your face and bearing, you miserable fool. Giveupalready. Spare yourself this indignity."


>"FOR…-khh!- FOR THE QUEEN'S SAKE-kaff'-urrraggh- WHY?! Why are you doing this to yourself?!  IT IS MADNESS…BEYOND-ah- ANYTHING ELSE IN WONDERLAND! -Hnnnnnghh- …What? NO! Worry about your own wounds you suicidal fool! WhatamIsayingwhyaren'tyoutakingadvantageofthem?!"

>"…I….I hate you, huuhhhhgh, so very much-wheeeeze-Why can't you just…hmnnhh…lie down and die?  Why…do you have to… torture me like this? I shouldn't even c-care, much less mind the sight offf-fudgeagh- ofyourbrokenbody.  GrrrrrrRRAA-YOU'VEINFECTEDMEYOUSOFTLITTLEBASTARD-KAaugh! I'll kill you-huuuhh-I'llkillyou,I'llkillyou,I'llkillyouI'lldoitquickasIcanIpromise…"

>"…If you'll STOP it and LET ME! HheeeeghIDON'TCAREABOUTTHEPECKINGORDERANYMORE! Heeeehhuuuuheeeehhfuuuuuuhisssssssss… Please. Your right-hsssss- right lung is punctured, every bone in your buh-Koff-body is riddledwithfractures, you've lost a pint of blood today… Let me put you out of our misery. That'ssssss the most you're going to get-thhee-get out of me. I'm not going to beg you. The salt water…running from my eyes issss painful…enough. I…Will…"

>"…wha-what? you…you…you belong here…you're mad enough to…IhateyousobadlyIcouldexplodeyouingrate-Ah…!…that's a bruise… on my skin…? That'ssssuuuuhhh…your last punch. Heheheheh… you couldn't…-gllp-cuddent bead me in de end…-snffft-I'll make it quick…my dear, stupid…swordsman…I'll remember….hrrrrrrr…rr…ah….?"

>At this point, both combatants collapsed from a combination of exhaustion and their wounds.

In the depth of sleep, the couple will have strange and often very specific dreams (some details will vary, of course, but there are some constants). They will first be conscious of their seats, a pair of plush and comfortable armchairs. To their location, a seemingly endless marble hall bedecked in blood red, chalk white, and jet black. Before them is a throne, or rather the knowledge of said throne being there; they can't look up, not even with their eyes. Clocks tick, hearts beat.

 The Vorpal Wielder finds his sword back in his hand,  but now its edge is serrated like a key on both sides. He will also notice that his hands are encased in very familiar dark scales… and his body in a smart but strange sort of suit  think Victorian gentry, coat-with-tails and top hat included. The Jabberwock, meanwhile, first notices a monstrous black padlock over her heart, seemingly attached to her. It smokes gently, and is open.  Next… that her hands have the smooth skin of her body, and her teeth fit strangely.  Finally, she notices the modest (and layered) white dress and veil covering her from head to sharpened toe.

From the throne-that-must-be-there comes a woman's laugh (ranging from a low and sensuous titter to a high and childish giggle and everything in-between), and then words. The voice typically remarks on how the pair have been expected, gives congratulations on their choice, and then offers to officiate their union. After all, at this point they might as well be married.

It is only at this juncture that the pair are allowed speech.  Reactions are typically a combination of loud, confused, outraged, and bewildered.


The couple quickly explodes into a flurry of questions. These range the gamut from what the "groom" is wearing, to why the chairs are so comfortable, to who the speaker is (which the Jabberwock will answer swiftly in a fearful hiss). Inevitably, however, the subject of wedding vows, the peal of bells, and white rice will be raised.

For convenience sake, we once again turn to the earlier account:

> "…Your illustrious crimson-white Majesty, if I might be so bold… this must surely be a most ingenious Royal jest, and if so, I will happily bear the part and play it to the hilt. It is but a jest, is it not? …No. It is…not in jest. Well done, your Majesty, marvelous judgment in keeping with the standards of the realm-Areyououtofyourblessedmind?! WHY?!"

== Altar jitters notwithstanding, my dear Jabberwocky, the bonds you two share would make even a blighted Shoggoth blush ==

To be Continued



Let it be known that the denizens of Wonderland cordially detest the squamous and noisome inhabitants of that endless place. Despite both being creatures of mentality and dream, every Wonderlander monster knows in the back of her addled head that she would not exist without the human imagination (some of which are cheeky enough to suggest the same applies to more Worldly mamono).  The eldritch creatures of the Void have been largely separate from that milieu until recently, and indeed come from neither the World nor Wonderland, but a more alien plane of existence. All mamono from the pseudorealm know instinctively what the Void-dwellers are now, and what they were before they adopted their more humanoid shapes. Their very presence gives them headaches bordering on migraines and full lucidity. Thus, Wonderlanders do not treat them as members of any "civilization," but instead as unwanted interlopers to be expelled from Wonderland by all means available. As it is nigh-impossible to kill a Void-dweller, no half-measures are employed.

It is speculated that some intelligence equal to the Queen of Hearts directs those from the Void, as these creatures somehow keep finding their way into the pseudorealm in very specific areas. For their part, the eldritch mamono insist that they wandered in at random. Their movements are chaotic, but there appears to be a method to their madness. As the incursions into Wonderland and the World increase, the Wonderlanders in turn become more active in Worldly affairs. The dream intrudes and the Void which listens now speaks.

Leading into The Shoggoth:
https://8ch.net/monster/res/284045.html 2017 thread for reference (will be replaced with backup)
Type:Doulos
Class:Abomination/Slime

Shoggoths are a strange sort of mamono with an enigmatic reputation. Archaeological records dictate that creatures resembling them first appeared to remote human settlements at least ten thousand years ago, and yet the`creatures themselves state that they have known mankind longer. Puzzling also is the fact that records of them sharply declined at the nine thousand year mark, until they vanished. Only within the past hundred years have the Shoggoths returned to the record, a rare and mysterious, yet increasing, presence in our World. Much discussion has been made of the fact that the first "modern" entities appeared shortly before first contact with Wonderland. Whether a connection exists is unknown.

A Shoggoth is an amorphous blob of malleable black/blue/white ichor and plasm possessed of a conscious mind and on average weighing in at two hundred pounds imperial. For reasons known only to it, the entity takes on a distorted facsimile of a humanoid female figure dressed in a Frankian maid uniform. Despite the fact that it can form any number of shapes, appendages, organs, and orifices at will from its protoplasm, the Shoggoth will always default to this form. Its "body" is somewhat unstable, randomly projecting pseudopods and opening xanthous eyes from its lower half unless otherwise ordered. Its expression is typically set in a contented if vaguely unsettling smile. Its "facial" eyes are yellow like the rest, but are given an amount of detail closer akin to the human equivalent; while the sclera is dark grey and the iris pulses to an unknown rhythm (and the "eyeballs" themselves are set in wide lidless and pitch black sockets which contract or expand with the creature's mood), the features are identical to that of a human.

In terms of demeanor, all Shoggoths maintain an unshakably servile attitude (with the exception of AllBlack states, more on that later). The entity will follow any order given to it by its designated master, save for any that would permanently separate them (for instance, ordering one to commit suicide will have the thing commit an act fatal to a human; debate has been held over whether this indicates a morbid sense of humor, or a deeper psychological fault). These can range from making a specific blend of tea, to sexual acts, to outright murder. If it so pleases the master, a Shoggoth will do it. Whatever hobby or reading material their master indulges in, the Shoggoth will also partake of it (or at least the knowledge of it) so that they may avail themselves on that subject if asked. They will be aware of all past and present relationships, usually through inquiry, then examination of correspondence, and then through whatever means they have available. All habits, inhibitions, and preferences become known to them. Whatever gets them closer and more essential to their master is the route they will take. While this approach begins subtly and slowly, the Shoggoth will occasionally lapse into displays of self-satisfaction at the state of its relationship with the master, or express frustrated bemusement if he remains cautious. It will grow to anticipate all his needs and wants with time. Outright rejecting the Shoggoth merely results in it returning to the subtler approach. It has all the time it could want to be patient, after all.

If he values the life of an innocent, however, the master is not to introduce "another" maid to the household without its approval. A Shoggoth's mental state will rapidly deteriorate in the presence of a servant it deems a threat to its position, and within days of determining this threat it will devolve into a shapeless and feral monstrosity. Only an invocation of the Yellow Sign can restore order at that point.

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>>325443 (You)

The bond shared between the Shoggoth and its master is as strong as it is odd. The creature chooses the recipient of its service seemingly at random, appearing without warning to offer its services. Anyone from the poorest serf to the wealthiest noble may be chosen (though most are unmarried and living rurally). All a Shoggoth asks is for a roof to reside under and a single square meal per week. Whatever else it needs, it can absorb from its environs. If it is rejected, the thing will simply greet its "choice" at the door each morning until they break down and accept. From there on, it assumes the servile pattern of approach discussed beforehand. However, the deepening association developed is not limited to physical use. Over time, the Shoggoth's bond takes on a mental aspect. The more it knows its master, the more it can tell what he is thinking. While this could be written off as observational skill, the master can in turn perceive snatches of the Shoggoth's thoughts. Eventually, both may glimpse each other's memories. While this can facilitate their relationship, such an eldritch exchange is seldom of benefit to the master's mental health. Unless specifically ordered to filter its thoughts, the Shoggoth will happily and obliviously drive its master to raving insanity with alien thought processes, stimuli he has no senses for, and memories of an unfathomably distant past. Depending on what it perceives, however, the entity will become more accustomed to human behavior, and indeed may adopt it: Gestures and body language, social cues and etiquette, into emotional intelligence and logic. It can even learn to flawlessly imitate the master's voice and adopt a completely humanoid form for limited periods.

Contrary to rumor and tale, Shoggoths do not and can not understand the concept of love unless their master does (and if it happens at all, it will take time). It is foreign to them, as serving another is their entire purpose. While they have an understanding of reciprocity, care beyond those bounds is confusing. A Shoggoth values its master's life not out of emotional concern, but because it would fail its purpose if he were to die.  Nor does the thing value its own existence, seeing itself as merely a tool to be used (even if being used gives it pleasure). For instance, were its master to express or feel grief in response to its seeming demise, and then excess relief, a Shoggoth will experience profound incomprehension. While it is pleased to know more of its master, the entity is deeply disquieted by these strong foreign emotions and why it cannot parse them.  Why should the master care so much about what is merely a tool? Such disquiet will eventually drive it to distraction, which it deems an unacceptable failure on its own part. So it will give up and ask the master why he feels the way he does. All this accomplishes is the creation of new questions and the idea that humans are insane. Some grow more comfortable with that idea as the mental link solidifies and thoughts overlap. Others will increasingly withdraw into their memories, both to find comfort in the past and in hopes that their present master will turn out like the old ones. Either way, a Shoggoth coming to truly love its master is a rare occurrence, a madness shared by two.

In all of this, a Shoggoth never consults another Shoggoth, even if another is close at hand. Unless directed by a master, they will not acknowledge each other in public. Prompted interactions of this nature tend to be verbally brisk but physically possessive. Other Audient Void entities are treated as if nobles of a familiar court, though that rapidly chills if they attempt to take the Shoggoth's master. If another, more terrestrial Mamono attempts such, they will be rebuffed on an increasingly violent scale depending on their efforts. Unless otherwise ordered, attempted rape is cause for immediate death and then absorption. So long as they are not a "threat," however, the Shoggoth will accept the presence of Mamono friends. These protocols are reached through a combination of instinct and judgement, all of its own will.

And yet, for years there has existed evidence that the Shoggoths ultimately answer to something else.

So named for the sudden and drastic change in appearance, the AllBlack states are dramatic transformations of body and mind in a Shoggoth. A state begins without preamble, coming mid-action or even mid-word. The Shoggoth freezes in place and then changes all its color to a pitch black hue, all eyes winking out. Its "outfit" changes into a number of different configurations, though the most frequent sighted include a ballgown with red trim or flowing robes with a strange headdress. Not one tentacle or mouth will emerge from this ensemble unless the entity wishes it. Its lips draw back from perfect white and human teeth, a cruel smile set beneath eyes somehow even darker than the rest of its body. Its vocal register shifts to a smooth contralto, sometimes to an inhuman bass or eerie falsetto.

For the duration of this state, the Shoggoth will behave with mocking condescension and a callous disregard for its master's safety, in addition to unpredictable inquiry. It seemingly relishes in their confusion, fear, or anger, for instance asking if the master is pleased with "this one's" service, then throwing them with a sudden tentacle just short of a window. It will state that the Shoggoth he knows is present, but not "awake."  If asked its name, the entity will laugh and then deflect. It will say that it is always there, and is a part of the Shoggoth the master cares so much about. It will express amusement that the master sees the Shoggoth as anything more than a tool. Even more amusing if the Shoggoth has begun to see itself as a person. It then offers to make itself "more useful" by erasing the developed personality, if the master wishes for a more even and less restrained service.  No recorded Shoggoth and master have reported agreeing to this offer, but sightings of feral instances devoid of their masters have been recorded rampaging through the countryside.

The state ends as suddenly as it begins. The Shoggoth has no memory of the incident, and will become distressed if prodded on it. However, it does gain a greater control over its shape. AllBlack states seldom reoccur, though it is not unknown. When they do, it is often at the most disruptive moments possible. Only specific magical bindings can prevent the chance of a recurrence.

== DON'T INGEST SHOGGOTH MATERIAL WITHOUT INFORMING IT FIRST, YOU IDIOT. YOU WILL GET NIGHTMARISHLY BAD DYSENTERY AND POSSIBLY AN ULCER IF YOU DO. ==

Also, don't ask an AllBlack state Shoggoth for sex. You may survive the experience, but your mind probably won't. And not because it was that good, either.
--------
Night-Gaunt
Type:Doulos
Class:Abomination

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYBVoOlWLDw
Night-Gaunts are another peculiar resident race of the Audient Void. They are servants of a different sort from the Shoggoths, silent messengers and watchers in service to great eldritch entities…and to those few mortals who can harness them. Like the Shoggoth, they appear in ancient archaeological records, ones previously misidentified as containing demons or even angels (in a rare interview, a member of the latter vehemently denied Night-Gaunts having anything to do with either side). Unlike the Shoggoth, they have been sporadically seen over the millennia since, though their rate of sightings has spiked as of the past hundred years.

A Night-Gaunt is a chimeric winged and horned humanoid possessing traits from mammals, cephalopods, gastropods, dragons, as well as elements not found in this World, weighing around one hundred and ten pounds imperial. Typically, they are covered in a coating of light-absorbent pitch-black slime, with oily "hair" (actually thin hollow tendrils similar to fiber-optic cables lined with millions of tiny spiracles) of the same color and a grey-white body beneath. Black tentacle-pseudopods with purplish tips emanate from its spine, used to carry additional objects and securing potential riders; a pair of bat-like wings project from its upper back, with an average wingspan of sixteen feet. The face is typically hidden behind a featureless "mask" of tightly compressed hair, and though it is usually unemotive and unsettlingly doll-like in its smoothness, it is at least recognizably human. Like the Shoggoth, other eyes (monochromatic purple in color) dot the rest of its concealed body, though the pale "facial" eyes are those most often seen. All specimens found have been confirmed female beneath the slime, though the Night-Gaunt can completely conceal its sex through tightly binding its figure. It does this by wrapping the entirety of her flexible form in strands of its "hair", then tightening it until no signs of either sex remain. A Night-Gaunt's pointed fingers can acquire knife-like sharpness in this condition, so it is sometimes used for self-defense.

Night-Gaunts, by definition, speak for others when they themselves cannot be present. It can speak the given to it with the exact tone, inflection, and volume intended by the sender. It can even flawlessly imitate their voice, if the sender has one and the Night-Gaunt has heard it. If they have not (or the recipient wishes to read the message instead), the messenger will flatten its wing and display white text in an easily legible font across it. Any time it speaks with another's voice, the Night-Gaunt displays a novel feature:having masked its face in "hair," it proceeds to "project" the face (and sometimes hair) of the sender onto the blank mask, perfectly showing their expression at the time of the message's dictation (unless otherwise ordered).  A Night-Gaunt does not speak its own words without a trick, as it sees itself as nothing more than a herald and a mouth-piece. Its own words are entirely insignificant, and therefore deserve no voice. Thus, whenever it needs to "speak" to sender or recipient, it uses either appropriate text or sign language to get the message across. Its "diction" is almost unfailingly clipped, precise, and beige, possessing a purpose-limited vocabulary. While utterly patient and capable of memorizing pages-long messages, a Night-Gaunt does not remember past messages unless they were its own words, and therefore cannot grow its vocabulary without instruction outside its task. This can result in frustrated body language and shifting eyes if it is asked something it has no appropriate words for.

Remedying this problem is one of several ways past that stoic mask.

>wings

The wings of a Night-Gaunt contain something similar to cephalopodal chromatophors, though all white. They come in complex patterns which only require portional "light-ups" to produce characters in a vast variety of languages. The "hairs" over the wings unconsciously adjust to unveil as many of these character-makers as are necessary.

>non-facial eyes

These are what the Night-Gaunt sees with while her facial eyes are otherwise occupied. They grant her a 360° field of vision, which is remarkably useful in evading pursuit and obstacles in any environment. The slime/mucus/film (yes, I know there is a difference between all three, I just need to make up my mind) acts as a filter against the spectrum of light, protecting the Night-Gaunt's highly sensitive "true" skin, and preventing sensory overload in the hidden eyes. It is the means through which the Night-Gaunt protects herself from the vacuum of space, and renders herself impervious to environmental toxins.  As a side note, the "horns" are actually antennae attuned to cosmic signals. Were this World to develop radio, she would be able to hear the waves.

--------
Pharaoh
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uV7-xbsuvZg
Type: Parásitos

Class: Undead

"I am ruler to whom One does not give, and the guarantor of Ma'at. Who are you to lay your hands upon me?"

One hundred and fifty years before the present, the Pharaohs of Aegyptoss broke the sands of north Afrik. Awakened by accident, these ancient undead monarchs rapidly changed their home into an unrecognizable state both breathtaking in its beauty and wracked by the terrible magic they unleashed on each other. The heathen Aegyptian gods themselves invested each Pharaoh with a combination of their power. This means that all of them are divine kings (insistently so, despite the difference in sex) and expect to be treated as such. To touch a Pharaoh without her permission is to court death. To anger a Pharaoh is literally to invite the wrath of the Sun. To court one, the preserve of the foolish and the extraordinary, an experience beyond life and death. They are creatures of iron-clad order and powerful magic, and their whim becomes reality whence they rule.

A Pharaoh in her normal hydrated state resembles a woman of refined features and ample, perky figure, typically in her mid-to-late twenties and possessing a smooth reddish brown complexion (though pale and dark black are not unheard of) with straight jet black hair (likewise, blonde and red-haired specimens have been recorded). A Pharaoh is usually clothed in fine, almost transparent linens while gold jewelry wraps around her body and limbs, while a similarly gilded headdress drapes to her shoulders. This gold has the secondary purpose of concealing her less human features: her fingers end in hollow tips which open on reflex (their nails are often sharpened to stiletto-like points), while thin surgical scars line much of her torso and the crown of her head. Finery cannot hide the rest. Her eyes are subtly luminous, and can flare up to solar brightness on command (or when the Pharaoh is in a high emotional state). A Pharaoh speaks with a flanged but clear voice, which can likewise deepen to an unnatural bass register for intimidation purposes.  When dehydrated, her inhumanity becomes obvious: her hair pales to a bone-white, her pallor greys, her skin cracks and dries, her figure sags, and her scars broaden to reveal the flesh beneath. In short, she resembles a mummified corpse. This state is usually accompanied by pained movements and difficulty breathing. A Pharaoh is most demonstrably of the Parásitos type then.

Pharaohs are called Parásitos for a simple reason: she is reliant on the moisture of others for her continued waking existence. The fluids of whoever awakened her are what give her the initial strength to leave the sarcophagus. A single touch is all a Pharaoh needs to begin the extraction, freezing the victim in place while her hand slices through their skin. Her youth and beauty renew from this "donation." But it is a temporary thing.  Without moisture, she will rapidly age and mummify until she loses consciousness and becomes entirely dormant again. Once a day, a Pharaoh must immerse herself in water to reset her body. If she forgoes this for that day and night, the desiccation commences. To slow it to a crawl, she may extract fluid from any living thing nearby, preferably her Consort. This can be a mildly pleasurable experience for both, thanks to the Pharaoh merely needing to press her open fingertips on any scratch or scar found on the Consort's body and the brief linkage of nervous systems this enacts. Servants will do also, but the Pharaoh is accustomed to the "taste" of her Consort. For enemies, the drain can be weaponized to fatal effect, emptying the foe's body of all moisture from the wound.

By their very nature, the Pharaohs of Ægyptoss are connected to their land and all which lives within it. In life, they maintained the cosmic balance and bounty of the whole country, which they call Ma'at, from their personal Seat of power. In unlife, they maintain such for the fief surrounding their Seat, which contributes with the other Pharaohs to the Ma'at of the whole. Within their borders, the Sun can shine brightly, tributaries of the River Aur irrigate the fields, and a farmer's yields are plentiful. Their power over the inhabitants is absolute, their suggestions binding commands even if they were uttered off the cuff. It takes a great effort of will to disobey a Pharaoh, and to do so can be punished by death anyway. Even the dead of Ægyptoss are theirs to control, an army which grows which every passing year, and which count men, women, and children among their number. Only the Consort is immune to this effect, and he must take care to avoid angering Pharaoh nonetheless.

 A Pharaoh's monsterkind servants may as well be extensions of her own will for their loyalty, the most steadfast among them the Jackals of Anpu (known as Anubis to the outside world), the Sekhmeti guard, and the Scarab builders. The Jackals are especially important, entrusted with maintaining the Pharaoh's security while they slept, and then with overseeing the surgical replacement of her embalmed organs once she awakened. Only the corruptive venom of a Daughter of Apep (known to us and to the later generations of their own kind as Apophis) can change a Jackal's loyalties.

A Pharaoh controls all of this as intermediary of the gods, the power of them all passing through her as needed. Asir gave her the blessing to return from Duat, the Ægypton land of the dead, and with Anubis give her command of the corpses. It is Harut (Haroeris) and Re who give her dominion over the land and people, however. This power is represented in each Pharaoh's Eye, a mantle of gold wings with eyes and a red crystal disk which rests on her shoulders whilst presiding, and in the serpentine uraeus found on her crown. The Eye casts light on whichever room its Pharaoh currently inhabits when worn, and is quite heavy to anyone else who tries to handle it. Combined with this device, a Pharaoh can directly control the severity of the Sun's heat, and imbue her servants with some of its fiery potency.  It can also be used to blind, sear, and even incinerate those who displease her. As this power is bound to a Pharaoh's state of mind, it can shift unpredictably, and if she is brought off balance, disaster will ensue. The fury of the God-King is terrible to behold, and can turn burning light on friend or foe. It is not unknown for a Pharaoh to set her entire kingdom aflame in a rage.  But then, this potentially capricious power, no matter how terrifying, is necessary to fight against something else entirely: The Daughters.

Daughters of Apophis have waged war on the Ægypton Pharaohs for as long as either side can remember, and the only reason that they did not clash for some thousands of years was thanks to both sides being sealed away during that time. While the Pharaohs are inextricably attached to the cities, the farms, and the Aur, the Daughters are creatures of the desert, the nomad, and hinterlands. They are an eternal thorn in the Pharaohs' side, waging guerilla and magical campaigns against them at night. Bandits, desert monsterkind, and other malcontents answer to them, swayed by their seductive charisma or manipulative spells. Their ultimate goal is bring down their assigned Pharaoh and destroy their Eye, thus throwing the kingdom into a chaotic darkness from which something new may emerge.  A Pharaoh will in turn seek to hunt down and eliminate "her" Daughter, bringing the hinterlands under control.  Very few things could bring the two to a temporary accord, and these things are often older than the both of them.

It is widely touted that Pharaohs have a deadly touch. This is true, up to a point: It is forbidden for ordinary mortals and even monsterkind to touch Pharaoh without her express permission. Those who do so experience a momentary chill, and before sunrise the next day, they will die. It does not matter how: it could be from guards, a scuffle in the market, a sudden heart attack, coitus, or a freak accident; without Pharaoh's intervention, their old life will be over. Their soul is now her property, and their body enslaved to her will. Come the next day, the victim will rise again and kneel at Pharaoh's feet, bound to her service until released. It is Pharaoh's will if the new servant maintains their prior appearance, or begins to decay. Many would-be tomb robbers and assassins experience the curse and then guard the Seat to this day. Once again, only the Consort is immune to the curse, and so may touch Pharaoh without her permission. Such surprises are usually welcome after the protocol and pomp of a day at court.  Quite a few Consorts got their start as victims of the touch-curse, and take their undead status in stride. Offsetting "perks" of the position include immortality, increased pain tolerance with strength and endurance, access to the best defensive Ægypton magic (meaning that of Haroeris), having Pharaoh's ear, and sharing Pharaoh's bed. Despite what one would think, Consorts "made" this way can still sire offspring.

Each Pharaoh must be awakened to resume her rule. Once that is done and her body is properly reconstituted, she will set out for her former Seat together with her immortal entourage. En route she is reliant on that entourage and whatever water she can find to remain mobile. It is an arduous and dangerous journey, made more difficult by how the Pharaoh's power slowly returns without being able to to equip her Eye. It is only once she reaches the Seat that her potency returns in full. These structures are often buried in the sands, suffering from severe disrepair, or even totally distributed in the building of new settlements over time. Whatever the case, the Pharaoh will have her Seat returned to its full glory. Witnesses speak of the Pharaohs raising their arms before the spots, and the ancient buildings rising from the town's foundations in mere minutes, gold flecks flying in on the winds to decorate it. The truth is that this process retrieves any and all material once used in the construction, no matter where it is now. The weight of other stones or the distance of far seas do not matter, all will be returned. Whole towns have been known to shatter, and the Seats of other Pharaohs fall apart because they had taken from that Pharaoh in eons past.

Naturally, this leads acrimony among the Pharaohs. In centuries past, they all saw themselves as the One legitimate King of all Ægyptoss, and upon revival rallied forces to take back what was rightly theirs. The various contemporary potentates violently disagreed. Thousands of hapless peasantry died in the internecine crossfire, as flood and flame stretched across the lands. Several Pharaohs and their Seats were utterly destroyed and the Daughters of Apophis ran rampant before the gods of old intervened. From then on, Ægyptoss became a de facto collection of city-states which chose an "Outward Pharaoh" to speak with the kings of other shores, and to mediate disputes.  This unlucky "ruler"  presides from Alexandria, whose own Pharaoh was among those killed in the fighting.

The current speaker is Akhnaten, the only Pharaoh to get along tolerably well with emissaries of the Church and Christendom, and to permit the presence of those from Heaven. Akhnaten is unpopular with the others in part because of this, and for "turning her back on the gods" long ago. Their choosing is as much to get the Pharaoh out of the business of jockeying for power as to make a diplomatic use of them. For whatever reason, Akhnaten can still use most of the Pharaonic powers (on top of being known for her singing voice  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAiv-LU82t4 ), so either the accusations are unfounded or something else is afoot.

Broadly, the Pharaohs of Ægyptoss are cold and unfriendly towards any outsider associated with the Creator. This attitude seemingly originates with an undisclosed incident in the distant past (though some scholars are sure of which one, others believe that the conflict refers to an even older event not seen in any holy book we know). Whatever the truth of it, none desire a new incursion from that quarter. Likewise, interference from Hellish agents is not tolerated, and any presence is carefully monitored at all times by the Sutekhi watchers. Creatures and representatives of Wonderland are regarded with mingled curiosity and annoyance (do not prank a Pharaoh; being thrown out will be the least of your troubles) owing to their madman's sense of order. Jabberwocks are strictly forbidden from passing from the "Outward" territory, thanks to their hubris inevitably angering more than one Pharaoh (and at least one knock-down drag out fight ensuing as a result). Relations are better with the Zoroastrian Empire of Persia, and trade goes back and forth across the Reed Sea, although they are treated as rivals even with the trade routes in place.

The Audient Void is another quantity entirely. Nephren-Ka's Seat and space around it remains a blasted wasteland shrouded in an unnatural miasma, yet denizens of the Void have been known to emerge from its murky depths. It is known as a place of bandits, madmen, and Apophean minions…and yet some Pharaohs have reportedly sent their agents deep into that realm, and treat quietly with what emerges. Strangely enough, the Daughters of Apophis maintain that their eternal enemies seek greater power from eldritch artifacts, despite the fact that some of their own number have gone insane from forays into Nephren-Ka's home.  Other Pharaohs are less circumspect, and refuse entry to any and all Void-dwellers. As the number of incursions grows, these Kings of Ægyptoss may have a choice to make, and a war to fight.


>blocking the Seats and tombs

Yes. It's effectively a house arrest for any of that Pharaoh's servants who are still awake (of which only the Jackals and a few of the Mummies should be). It's policy to the point where Sutekhi have been known to use the outer reaches of the Seats as operational bases.

For the record, I came up with these "watchers" on the fly and am still figuring out what they are. They're another monsterkind, but they're not like Kunoichi or Hashashin. Big on surveillance, information-gathering, intimidation, interrogation… and acting as a welcome of visitors to Ægyptoss. Their patron God is that of strangers and darkness, after all.

>babby

What, was the detail about Consorts having viable offspring not enough for you? Yes, although conception will only happen during the day. Pharaohs can give birth to sons as well, though it is usually only the daughters who can inherit the Power of Pharaoh. "New" Pharaohs born since the awakening tend to be stronger than their parents and free of the need for inundation (to say nothing of lacking the mixed blessing of undeath), though perhaps paradoxically they are all mortal. I'm thinking over whether full ascension requires the elder Pharaoh's death, their abdication, striking out to claim a new seat, or something else. The Pharaohs' theme as masters of life means that sterility would be a bitter and inappropriate irony, though the potential succession troubles are a thorny question.

>married ones

Hrmph. Another thorny question. In the case of some, they parted with their original Consort in Duat for one reason or another. Some had marriages which turned sour. Some were lost. In the present, some Pharaohs maintain the same consort, raised to undeath as a mummy lowercase intentional, also don't skewer me for potential monsterboy (or yuri) stuff, I'm just trying to answer questions I hadn't thought aboutA handful still remain widowed by choice out of respect for what was. A Consort is as much a cosmic balance the Pharaoh as a mate and husband.

As for the teasing, in one scenario the Pharaoh allowed "you" to live and healed "your" burns. That's pretty generous for a god-king who's just been insulted in a variety of ways. Innocent curiosity is a plus.

>implying Rennaissance-era Catholics care about what happens to Copts

That aside, I gave you a brief clue about what happened to Islam in that same post: It has largely not escaped Arabia and the Levant thanks to the Persian and Byzantine Empires winning a few key battles. A consequence of this is that the Byzantine Empire (sometimes called the Constant Empire) is still standing, though currently on the back foot in a war with the Persians and Golden Khan. A result of that which you might've noticed is the use of Greek when discussing foreign religions and monsterkind, as well as some kinds of magic. Yes, I'm still working out the effects this history would have, on top of demonstrable magic, monstrous races, and the well-documented active interference of various deities. I'll also have to work on consistency language-wise. As I speak neither Greek nor Latin, the Englishness of the framing device is purely for convenience.

It is the year One Thousand and Five Hundred Anno Dominum roughly, though the technological aesthetic I'm thinking of can resemble Final Fantasy XII/XIV at times with the amount of airships/dirigibles about. Muskets and cannons are definitely a thing, though so are such things as clockwork automatons and magic-augmented Antikythera-style computers. I might adjust the time period, to be honest. Late Roman monstergirls sound kinda cool, but I don't think I'd go with that.

As for the conversions in Egypt, there are still plenty of Copts about, though often quiet or even in secret about their practices. Many were overawed/frightened into converting by the Pharaohs themselves and their war. Many others side with the Apopheses in their effort against the Kings, cajoled with the notion that a reset could return things to how they were. Whether this is true or not depends on the snake. Right now, the land of Abyssinia acts as the Copts' official authority.

>Moses

Hah. More likely Aaron. Either way, reincarnation might be in effect. And "miracle" might indeed be the operative word.

>>347136

>dungeon-esque

Very. The Jackals direct and maintain security, while the Mummies are the active guards. Blowing up the wall is an excellent way to get their collective attention.

>>345386

As a quick answer to that before I hit the hay, as long as the Pharaohs don't start massacring and enslaving the Copts, the Creator will not bring down the lightning and fire. As much as Exodus and other events grind their gears, exactly none of them want a repeat of that.

>Jews

Oh boy. Not going to /pol/'s version of Earth for that one, if only because I have no interest in that angle and already having something immeasurably worse as the ultimate evil than what some /pol/ack can rant about. Golems and minor Angels I might have to hunt down other suitables. are choice waifus for their sort, and the latter hold their partners to high standards of behavior. Talmud routinely gets laughed at and edited down by their kind. Hubris gets called out. Being "The Creator's First Chosen" means being watched closer. In short, it's tough to be their sort.

Oh, forgot to mention: While many of the Pharaohs are content to do things as they did back in the day, some have taken begrudgingly or happily to the technology of the intervening years. Cannon, shot, and steel are given, but metal ploughs and seed-drills have been introduced on top of improved weaving methods. One Pharaoh even caused a diplomatic incident and administrative crisis by sending the Doge of Venizzia an image of herself clad in an exact replica of the dress favored by his wife. As said wife was a Dragon, this did not end well.

 Incidentally, this version of Earth is 11,876.25 miles in diameter. On one hand, things are a little more spaced out, on the other, lost lands like Atlantis, Thule, Mu, and parts of Lemuria can be found in reality.

>>347226

Noh. However, I was planning on creating a summary of the monsterkind a Pharaoh typically has under her command. Let's see about that.

The temperament of Pharaohs can vary as much any ruler, and though their great power can easily lend itself to tyranny, the overarching importance of Ma'at guides many to be better.  "Stern" is a quality ascribed to most, and few can be said to rule like matriarchs. The very power channeled through them renders the Kings of Ægyptoss inhumanly distant at times.  As they are linked to the welfare of the Ægyptons, however, many view their subjects with compassion. Some even take greater care with what they say, knowing fully the power of their words. Some of the realms within Egypt are peaceful and almost idyllic as consequence. Others with more capricious and ill-tempered rulers possess an oppressive tension in the air and the sunlight. Either way, the Pharaoh's attitude does much to influence her servants both monsterkind and man.

Many serve the conduit of the gods, and in myriad kinds:

Foremost among them are the golden Falcons of Haroeris, heralds, messengers, and sometimes steeds for the Pharaoh. Their vision can range for miles at a stretch, and they are without dispute the fastest extant harpy species. Their stoic demeanor hides great passion and a sense of righteousness.

Next are the Jackals of Anubis, the Pharaoh's guardians, viziers, and overseers. Do not mistake them for mere wulfen or cynocephalae: they can manipulate all dead matter within their range to move and reform as they wish (to grisly result if threatened). Immortal, eternally patient, and coolly efficient, Jackal have a wilder side which makes them susceptible to teasing when at peace, and outright savage in combat.

The Hathor Counselors and Sekhmeti Guard are strange creatures, in that one can become the other in moments. Counselors gently advise their Pharaoh on affairs of state, and can act as embassy to outside entities. Guard, meanwhile, defend the Pharaoh, carry the executioner's blade, and bring forth their healing arts where needed. They enjoy sport and combat, especially if it spills blood. BEWARE: All a Counselor needs to become a vicious and fiery lioness is blood in her mouth.

There are the Scarabs (or Khepri), the Pharaoh's restless and determined builders. Whenever a structure must be raised, they are the ones who design it, who choose the materials, and who ensure that the end result is built to their standard. For many projects, they lend their claws and considerable strength to greatly speed the process. Scarabs are known for their task-oriented mindsets, methodical approach, and stubborn determination to finish their job.

There are the Sphinxes, Pharaoh's scholars and the outer guardians of the Seat. They question those in restricted areas and keep them occupied with riddles until the intruders can be collected. When on duty, the Sphinxes bear the face of their Pharaoh and speak with her voice. Whatever they see in that form, their master can also. Unlike their peers, the off-duty Sphinxes possess features and mannerisms closer to that of Hellenes than Ægyptons. Sphinxes are playful, but also impatient to see their riddles solved.

Still another are the ponderous Hippos of Toeris, skilled doctors and midwives who tower over the other monsterkind of Ægyptoss. While the Sekhmeti can handle battlefield medicine and surgery, the Hippos have command over treating sickness and maladies. While typically sweet and matronly (an appearance reinforced by figure even more robust than the Hathori), they are not tolerant of uncooperative patients, and will subdue their charge with force if necessary.

The Sukhosi, servants of the crocodile god Sobek, ensure that the Aur River's waters flow correctly and relatively cleanly. Though lazy and prone to sunning themselves on the banks, they have a violent temper made dangerous by their prodigious strength. Uniquely among the monsterkind, they have balanced say in the administration of the city of Shedet with its Pharaoh.

Mehen, the Ægypton version of Lamia, come in a variety of kinds, but most take part in the priesthood. Many gods and ethereal spirits have taken the form of serpents, so it follows that the Mehen would have be strongly inclined to serving them in the temples. Ægypton Cobras are especially known for conducting ceremonies on behalf of the Pharaoh.  Those who do not go into the priesthood direct the sanitation of the kingdom.

Ichneumons are an ornery sort who assist the Mehen with sanitation, and sometimes can be found in the priesthood. While they maintain a professional relationship with the holy serpents, they utterly detest the works of Apophis, and so will help root out that insurgence whenever possible. They have a greater presence in Heliopolis.

Mummies serve the Jackals directly, immortal undead who ensure that neither tomb nor seat is breached. Though stiff in movement, they are quick when necessary and their grip can break bones. Mummies suffer from a slower version of the Pharaoh's dehydration, though such a state merely lowers consciousness and marrs their appearance. They possess sensitive skin, so they tend to favor their bandages even after rehydration.

The final entities on this list are only on it thanks to this author's great distance from the land of Ægyptoss (and the protection of his patron). Do not under any circumstances mention them by name while traveling in that land.

The Watchers of Sutekh are the most secretive of the Pharaoh's monsterkind, and among the most potent. While they bear a superficial resemblance to the the inkstained Jackals, Sutekhi are an altogether different creature. Every visitor to Ægyptoss will see one watching them in the distance, and a sighting is almost always followed by the presence of border guards. Should the visitor prove suspicious, they are turned over to the Watcher for questioning. While this can be an unnerving process, only ending when the Watcher judges that it should, the worst of them surfaces with "troublemakers." Those who "make trouble" for the kingdom are likely to awake on a Sutekhi's examination table. There the monsterkind's sadistic nature becomes clear: until the subject confesses to what she wants, the Sutekhi is free to beat, torture, and frighten them to within inches of death. A Sutekhi cannot kill their captive, but this is scant consolation.  It is said that they are so zealous because their patron god betrayed his brother Asir. Whatever the truth of it, they are fanatically loyal to their Pharaoh, and the chief prosecutors of their shadowy war with Apophis.

"Such was I, that I united the Two Kingdoms of Egypt, and ruled over both Sedge and Bee. Perhaps I will again." –Pharaoh Senusret the III

The Nuti are the drivers of agriculture in Lower Ægyptoss (though they can be found in lesser numbers throughout the Upper). Though similar in form to the territorial Honey and curious Bumble Bee Melissae found in the rest of the World, Nuti differ in two key respects: first, their connection to a deity, and second (likely connected to the first), their ability to command swarms of regular bees like extra appendages. Characterized by working hard and playing hard, Nuti queens are one of the few monsterkind that have some leeway with their Pharaoh's commands.

>>347625
>drunk
Not very, as they're expected to work, and hungover workers aren't very productive. Still, the brewing and selling of beer and other spirits (including fruity nedjem) is a major industry throughout Ægyptoss. While other modern innovations are cause for wariness, nearly all of the Pharaohs have embraced the processes which lengthened the life of their beer.

>>347658

All it takes is a swig of beer for that to happen, which they imbibe from a flask at their hip. They don't do this unless commanded, and will avoid even a sip of the stuff otherwise. The same result can be achieved by getting them utterly plastered on nedjem or wine (nothing happens if they just go to bed buzzed or somewhat drunk). Hathori will guzzle beer like a champion, and hold their liquor like no one else. In terms of attitude, one's a rowdy, sometimes brawl-happy drunk, the other is a party girl.

>>347627
>Earth is not as dense
--------
Daughters of Apophis
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gdPvMCsf9rM
Type: Oikos

Class: Reptilian

" Asssir, Haroerisss, Ississs… and Ssset. What a worthlessss foe, if all he doess iss make that trinity stronger. Nooohohohoho. A real enemy musst make deeper woundss…that iss why I am here…and so I saved you. Won't you join me? "

As the Pharaohs of Ægyptoss are to the sun and to light, so the Daughters of Apophis are to the night and darkness. The two have been in conflict for millennia without cease. With each new Pharaoh, a new Daughter was born from the mindless serpent of Duat as her opposite. The deserts and fringes were their strongholds. From these outer reaches they assailed the Kingdom of Ægyptoss, thriving on unrest and discontentment.  A great and terrible spell sealed them away, but also doomed the Kingdom to conquest. So many years later, the fight continues and the World watches. The darkness of their progenitor infuses them. To see one is to experience beauty and terror in equal measure. To know one, a life akin to courting the Devil. With their tools of sorcery, toxins, and manipulation, the Daughters remain a formidable enemy.

At a glance, a Daughter resembles a disturbingly cheerful cobra lamia: a long, sinuous body replaces any legs, covered in glistening black scales, which connects to the full-figured body of a woman at the hips. An extended flap of skin stretches from the top of the neck to the mid-back, which expands into a "hood" when the serpent is agitated. Bowl-shaped pits replace the ears, knife-long fangs fill the mouth alongside a forked tongue, a flatter nose, and slitted pupils for golden irises. They are usually clothed in a mix of robes, rags, and stones bound with string, when clothed at all. But from there, the differences become clear: their sclera are pitch black, with luminous crimson pupils. The skin of their upper bodies is also black, almost blueish (though their features are more Ægypton than Nubian). Their serpentine tail can lengthen or reduce according to their needs (to fill a room, or just enough to stand on).  Their voice has a strange liquid flange to it, and like the Pharaohs they can deepen it at will. A strange black haze hangs about them in the day unless suppressed, and in the night it becomes an almost tangible shroud of shadow. This shroud can extend until everything surrounding the Daughter is similarly cloaked. The only things visible in this artificial darkness are the serpent's pupils and fangs. When angered, the haze surrounding her becomes a writhing, hissing mass which seems to desiccate the earth.

All of these unusual features are an indication of a Daughter's connection to Apophis, marking her as an Oikos. Her bond with the parent entity ensures that she has a regularly replenishing resevoir of unholy power flowing into her. This connection is what gives her control over shadows, fortune, and water, among other abilities. It also carries a significant influence on her mind. As Apophis endlessly seeks to overturn Ra's solar barque, so his daughters are subconsciously compelled to overturn the rule of the Pharaohs. It is difficult for them to resist this call, and the frequent lack of upbringing makes it a foundation to fall back on. For most Apotheses, it is their purpose in life, just as the upholding of Ma'at is for the Pharaohs. What will happen if all the Pharaohs are overturned is uncertain, even among the Daughters. But they know that they want it to happen. Only the strongest of outside influences can dissuade them.

>>349824

On the contrary, a number have fallen. Memphis itself had its Pharaoh assassinated in the squabble for control over it, and all daylight in Ægyptoss turned hazy and rapidly dimming before another took control. The gods decreed the current system in part so that the destruction of one Pharaoh could not undo the whole realm.

Some former kingdoms have been reconquered by the other Pharaohs, while others rallied their inhabitants into a coherent fighting force. There the Ægyptons toil and sweat under an uncontrolled Sun, then do and say whatever they please once the day's labors are done. Pharaoh's law has no sway here, and the law of Apophis tends to be much more lax, if not outright chaotic. Consequently, banditry runs rife in these places, and denizens are encouraged to form their own militias in response.

There are rumors that the reconquests are part of a plan long ago, one which could be used to bypass the gods' edict and claim the whole of Ægyptoss in darkness. As of now, this author cannot say.

Daughters of Apophis awaken in the peripheries of a Pharaoh's fief, rising from deep beneath the earth on the first night of their reign. If they died so long ago, then they are reborn. They instinctively seek out any who dwell in their area, taking pains to avoid any of Pharaoh's servants, often masquerading as stray Mehen. They then settle into whatever community they can find. An Apophis will ingratiate herself to these outliers, drawing water from below and crafting medicine from her venom. Predators of the desert become hers to command, and they trouble the locals no longer. The nights are now cool, but they no longer freeze. She will spend a remarkably short time acclimating herself to their customs and language, until within just a year she will be seen as one of them. Often, the Apophis will learn of the outside world through caravans and lone travelers. Throughout this time, she hears all of the outliers' grievances with the Pharaoh, and decides that there is only one way to address such a stubborn King: regicide.

Of course regicide is tall proposition, and not something idly proposed. The Daughter will stoke her carers' discontent, aide by her medicine's subtle suggestive effect, until they willingly help her schemes. Such machinations are usually framed at first as a way to further help the outliers with their troubles. Using her newfound community as impromptu bodyguards, she will roam the rest of Pharaoh's domain, taking in the unwanted and dispossessed, and pacifying them so that they will serve her now. She will also patrol the desert during the hours of the morning. Those lost out there also become hers, and the Apophis will expect their rescuee to be grateful to her. A Daughter often meets her Consort in this fashion, if he strikes her fancy (further specifics will be discussed later in this volume). Monsterkind of the desert and the wastes are tamed as well, sedated and fed until they are happy to join the Apophis. Once her forces are large enough, the serpent can begin her campaign of subversion.

It begins with whispered rumors of the Pharaonic regime and the outside world. Word of misdeeds and unfairness spreads like venom through veins. Mockery of Pharaoh is encouraged in private. The laws of the realm are held in contempt. As Pharaoh's servants crack down on sedition, the discontent grows. The Apophis orders raids on official outposts and buildings. Crops are stolen while under guard. Tax boxes are broken into. Lone guards are assaulted or even killed. The serpent's power grows. Day begins cooling as nights become sultry.

By this point, Pharaoh's minions should be hunting the Apophis throughout the kingdom and suppressing dissent with force. The serpent responds in kind, attacking Pharaoh's supply trains and supporters in guerilla raids. Priests are struck in their temples, which are then defaced. Sukhosi and Toeri are either incapacitated or brought under the Apophis' sway, so that neither water nor medicine are free of the serpent's taint. Honey is spiked with venom. Shadows become deeper, and hide more things. Ghouls make incursions into cemeteries and tombs. Watchers and scorpionfolk chase each other in the dead of night. Riots shake the city during the day. Civil collapse seems imminent.





To be Continued