#bwekh ask

Woahhh i like this idea!!! whumpees who can't admit their fear my loves <3333

This one took a while to answer (sorry) and is shorter than my other one, mostly because i'm tired as i write this. It's highly likely that i revisit this because i had idea writing it that i didn't do because i didn't wanna deviate from the prompt too far, but i'll tag you when I do :)

anyways keep sending asks and sorry this took so long to answer ------------------------------ Keep looking down.

Keep looking down.

It repeats like a mantra in Whumpee's head, to which the cold barrel of a pistol is pressed. They try to stop themselves fidgeting with the rope binding their wrists as they kneel, trying not to show their nerves.

Whumper crouches down infront of them, still pressing the gun terrifyingly softly to their temple. "What's wrong, doll? Nervous?" asks Whumper, their tone drenched in cold malice. Silence is whumpee's only response, the only one they know is safe.

Or so they thought.

Whumper's tone shifts; "I said: Are you nervous? I expect an answer when i ask a question, Whumpee." they repeat again, annoyance creeping into the edges of their voice. A deep breath that lasts for what feels like minutes passes before Whumpee responds: "No, xir."

Whumper seems unsatisfied. "Are you sure? I can see that you're sweating, and I know full well by now what it looks like when there's fear in your eyes."

Another moment passes, and the muzzle of the weapon leaves the side of their head, earning a hugely suppressed sigh of relief from Whumpee. It seems only a moment's respite, however, as the wind is knocked out of Whumpee when Whumper's thick boot connects with their stomach, knocking them backwards and onto their side.

"That's for lying to me, doll."

thank you for the ask :] it took me a little longer to get onto this one because I was busy but i really like the idea! anyone seeing this can also send a whump prompt ask I'm very open

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Caretaker's hands shake as they hold a postcard in their hands, eyes tracing the by now familiar handwritten note. It had all been leading to this, and their nerves couldn't be any higher. Looking up from the paper, they see before them a metal warehouse, bathed in moonlight and deep shadow. It takes a few minutes of nerve gathering and careful preparation - a holstered pistol and a first aid kit strapped to their waist - until they enter.

Making their way through a maze of containers, Caretaker's nerves are on edge and their chest feels tight. Every corner is an uncertain threat, an attacker, or worse-

Caretaker's train of thought is cut short by a whimper from the gantry above them, but it's too dark up there to see. Once they're up there, it's easier to see with their flashlight, but they still feel just as blind in the dark. What if it had been a setup? They don't dwell on the thought, but every clank of their boots on the metal walkway echoes in the darkness.

It's difficult not to begin to lose hope, to feel like they'd been lead on a wild goose chase. Thoughts of Whumpee being carted off somewhere even worse fill Caretaker's mind, causing them to lower their flashlight for a moment, but as they do so they see a glint of light too bright to have been the catwalk's metal.

They raise it again, and their eyes come into focus again in the light. The sight that meets their eyes is worse than they could have imagined. A limp form in the darkness, a silhouette propped against a wall.

Caretaker is there as quick as their legs will carry them, breath quickening. As the limp form comes more into view, their stomach twists itself into knots; the shivering, bruised and scratched form of Whumpee, unconcious sat against the wall with their wrist handcuffed to the metal railing.

First Aid Kits don't have near enough bandages, Caretaker discovers, for somebody who's been beaten within an inch of their life and left to bleed out. As Caretaker tries to stem blood flow, Whumpee's eyes flickered open, unfocused and half-glazed over.

"Whumpee?" Caretaker says, realising now that they hadn't even thought to check a pulse. The noise that Whumpee makes could be described as somewhere between a whimper and a yelp of pain, their eyes suddenly shooting open. "Whumpee, it's me, it's Caretaker!" They can't help but let their voice raise slightly with panicked desperation, all the while trying to patch Whumpee's wounds. "Can you stand?" asks Caretaker, earning them a small groan from Whumpee.

Taking this as a no, Caretaker re-attaches the first aid kit to their waist and, after a few hard knocks with the hilt of their gun, undoes the lock on the handcuffs. They hadn't noticed how light Whumpee had become, clearly malnourished, as they carried them bridal style toward the warehouse's exit.

General oppression, normal reasons you'd see in any other rebellion thing. The rich are too rich, the poor are too poor. There's widespread oppression of minorities, and the wealth gap is huge.

The capital city of the state is a megacity with a population in the tens of millions, and yet most of the residents of this city are in poverty. The only rich people in the city are in the city center.

Where do these rebels get their supplies and stuff i was wondering... like, are they fully self-sufficient in regards to like farming and agriculture do they trade with some other community/nation perhaps? :0 you dont need to answer or think of all of these of course akdbsjdbdb worldbuilding serves plot and not all of everything would show up depending on where the story goes

And also—do the rebels have some sort of goverment system? Have they been around for long enough that they need a stabilished way of replacing their leader(s) once they die?

OH and who decides who goes into the mechas. At the kingdom too. Is it voluntary? Is it forced, like mandatory military service? Do they "source" their pilots from some kind of institution, like a shady lab or maybe an outstanding academy I have no idea. Is that method of aquiring pilots too different from the rebels to the kingdom? :0

Oh and do they use the gregorian calendar (365 days 12 months leap years every now and then year zero is the birth of christ etc) RANDOM AND LIKELY INCONSEQUENTIAL but um. I think calendars are neat.

Ok im done u_u be selective as your heart desires no pressure

Where do rebels get their supplies?

Mostly trade with other nations who remain neutral in the conflict, but there are sometimes supply raids on state supply depots, or hijacking supply trains etc. They have farming of both animals and crops, but as for other supplies they're all either stolen or traded with other nations.

Do the rebels have a government system?

Their government system is very rudimentary, with a simple sort of "leader, second in command, third in command and then everyone else" kind of system. I haven't yet decided who they want to put in charge once they overthrow the state, but it'd probably be whoever leads the rebellion? The rebellion's leader, though, is somewhat of a figurehead, as the system of making decisions is more democratic and the title of leader is more of a military title of who's in charge. They haven't been around long enough for them to need to replace a leader, but it's assumed that the second in command would take up the position.

Who decides who pilots the mechs?

For the state, it's involuntary. The mechs have a form of neural connectivity that allows them to be piloted, and some people have innately higher connectivity - they still don't know what causes this, but they're pouring a lot of money* into figuring it out. Generally pilots are taken by the military, as people over the age of 13 have their connectivity tested mandatorily every few years. Carrion (the main character) was taken at age 15.

They're shuttled to the capital's military base by people carrier bus kind of things. People within the state generally view becoming a pilot as a privelige, as glorious because of the propaganda that gets put out. This leads to many pilots being entirely unprepared for the intensity of the training and either dying or getting kicked out.

In terms of the rebels, they have the same problem of connectivity, but whether or not you pilot the mech is voluntary. People who have high connectivity (testing is still mandatory, they don't really have the freedom to be missing pilots) are allowed to choose whether they want to be a pilot or not, but most people agree to it because they understand what they're fighting for. Transport to the military bases is a lot less dystopian as they're just like, driven in a car or bus etc. or any other public transport (their public transport system is rudimentary at best)

What calendar do they use?

They use a version of the gregorian calendar same months/year naming as ours except they're in the year 10,026 - see Kurzgesagt's video on the "human era" calendar, because I think it's a really cool idea. It essentially places the start of human civilisation 8000 years before the real world "common era" (BC/AD, year 0), and uses that as the year 0 instead of the birth of christ. The story takes place starting in 10,006 (2006).

Oh My