#cephalone

Ehehehehe, these are some lava lamp squid fakemon I’ve made with @momotech764​ !! He named them and tweaked the abilities with me.

Cephalone

Water Type The Extremophile Pokemon Ability: Homeostasis: This Pokemon’s natural inclination for both hot and cold climates makes it extremely resilient to both, and so it is immune to being frozen or burned. Hidden Ability: Dense Nerves: Paralysis can never slow this Pokemon’s extremely complex nervous system. However, it may register as confusion in the Pokemon’s brain. Entry One: Cephalone live in colonies near hydrothermal vents, consuming the chemicals and minerals spewed forth from the depths. In order to maintain a healthy body temperature, it will periodically inflate its gelatinous membrane to more efficiently release heat into the surrounding ice-cold waters. This behavior has made it a popular model for party balloons. Entry Two: Melancholic and rarely emotive, juvenile Cephalone are under the impression that they’re living solitary lives in their jelly membranes. It may not know it yet, but it’s actually standing solidly at guard for undeveloped consciousnesses that share the gelatinous space. Soon enough, the other inhabitants will awake and Cephalone won’t be so lonely any more.

Nautilot

Water/Psychic Type The Extremophile Pokemon Ability: Homeostasis: This Pokemon’s natural inclination for both hot and cold climates makes it extremely resilient to both, and so it is immune to being frozen or burned. Hidden Ability: Dense Nerves: Paralysis can never slow this Pokemon’s extremely complex nervous system. However, it may register as confusion in the Pokemon’s brain. Entry One: The gooey body of a Nautilot is piloted mainly by the largest, most developed mind. However, the growing co-inhabitants may sometimes disagree with the pilot, causing them to halt in their tracks until everything is sorted. It’s not uncommon to see tens of individual Nautilots hovering motionless in the water column, especially if they’re freshly evolved. Entry Two: The glowing glands at the tips of Nautilot’s tentacles are stores of energy it has gained from hydrothermal vents. Collectively, they act as a battery for the Pokemon to draw upon on long journeys. If threatened severely enough, it may release all of the energy upon the attack at once and flee as fast as it can to a nearby vent.

Octoplus

Oh, no. It’s happened again. He knows the instant that he realizes his feet are on the ground, because he doesn’t have feet. At least it’s a little easier to stay standing, between his short periods of practice and the fact that this body feels a little more... what, stable? Solid? Something like that.

He’s surrounded by ice walls and ice sculptures, and a few other folks amidst them, but... not his own body, inconveniently. This isn’t where he was before the swap, anyway.

So, dealing with all of the awkward angles he has to put his arms at (and the stiffness of those joints, which is unique to this body), he pats himself down until, thankfully, getting ahold of a phone in his coat pocket.

from: Cephalon Ordis to: Thebestmaster

[txt] > hey, whoever!!

[txt] > you’re in my body? or at least you should be

   “Although I find the reoccurring shift between the bodies of others quite tiresome, I suppose I don’t really mind this particular switch.” A Robot, hm? Honestly, the thought of it was highly intriguing, to say the least. “That feline managed to transfer my consciousness into the mainframe of a robot. And while the idea of such a thing is only something N. Gin and I have dabbled in, It wouldn't have crossed my mind in this city. At least not for a while.” While it’s quite obvious the evil genius is enjoying listening to himself speak, he pauses, mind working at what to do now. “What did they call themselves? Or... Orvis. That’s right.” That’s wrong. “Orvis. While I have my time in this body, I can actually see what makes him tick, with a certain level of care of course.”

   Then his mind teeters into something a bit more, frantic. “...Strange.” Back straightening out, Cortex looks around the room, feeling a very unnerving sensation. “I feel like I’m missing something crucial.” That’s unusual. Beginning to pace, he winces, trying to recollect everything that happened up to this point. “Yes... There’s that as well... That atrocious ‘ice age’... Nina.” He ceases his pacing, throwing his hands up again in frustration. “WHAT IS IT THEN?! WHAT COULD I BE MISSING?!” This rage. Anger. He’s not unfamiliar with it in the least bit. It’s an emotion he’s very well acquainted with that he deals with it at least once a day! But this anger? This Rage? It felt... Different. Gripping the sides of his head, Cortex growls in frustration. “AGH! Nevermind all that!! Whatever!! If it’s so important then surely I’ll remember it in due time... I just need to bide my time before I am returned to my body... And figure out how Orvis works, while I’m at it~.”

Darrell tried to open his eye, but the darkness didn’t lift. He couldn’t pick himself off the... the ground? He couldn’t actually tell what he was on top of-- his sense of touch was gone, save for a dim awareness in one hand. Or, he considered as his mind drifted into lavender fog, was it that he’d never had any more than that? Yes, that seemed like the case, he only had the one hand-- and no eyelids on his camera, either. That was normal.

He spent a lot of his time in the dark. Dad spent a lot of time with him, of course, but with attending to his grown-up work stuff, eating, sleeping-- that still left more than half of the 24-hour day for Darrell to spend alone. He’d tried shutting Darrell down during these quiet periods, but found it not worth the time he had to spend calming the AI back down to state where he was ready for the day. So, his dad’s new plan was to cart the machines to different rooms and give them a dark, silent experience that was more like sleep and less like temporary death.

The door cracking open and the light in the room being switched on made him metaphorically light up with excitement-- not that he could indicate this in any visual way. All that would be seen was a twitching of his hand and the humming of electronics springing to activity.

      “ ‘rin mensah’? ” 

       murderbot remembered repeating the name on the travel documents. ‘rin mensah - citizen of the preservation alliance - adwoa mensah family unit - gender: none - pronoun identifier: it’ mensah nodded in response, handing the datapad and hard memory storage units to it. “ so we’re pretending i’m a human. "

      “ not if you don’t want to. i put that name on your citizenship so you could choose. we can change it to ‘murderbot’, or ‘secunit’, or ‘eden’, or whatever else you’d like. but regardless of what you choose to be called, you’ll be a citizen here. and you’ll be a part of our family. ” something felt tight in it’s chest, even though it already knew how the conversation went - like an actor still emotional and nervous while anticipating a rehearsed scene. if it was a film on the entertainment feed, the moment would have been complete with cheesy instrumental music.

       “ you aren’t human, and ‘human’ isn’t listed under your citizenship. neither is ‘construct’ or ‘secunit’. people will only know the parts of your story that you want them to. ” even in a replay of a memory, murderbot wasn’t sure how to respond to that. it was such overwhelming kindness and consideration for it’s individuality and autonomy that it had never expected from anyone, which was why it had once resigned itself to being alone. “ i’ll give you some time to think it over. you know how to contact me if you want to.” murderbot watched as mensah left it’s room.

       it was the last time murderbot saw her - before it ended up in this...weird city. it’s chest tightened at that thought too - and it definitely hurt this time as it looked over the empty room.

   He’s perched himself on a chair before his workstation, legs kicking around eagerly in his seat. Oh, he could see the outcome now. He’d blast that nuisance out of the sky and be done with him. Then, he’d start over, ready to make a new general for his commandos. The very idea tickled him so much, he burst into a fit of giggles, nearly dropping his screwdriver in the process. “Oh, what should I send into the vortex next~? Well, there’s that Dingo I have ready and waiting...” A few more twists and... “There!” Scooping it up in his hands, he stands on the chair and leaps down with relative caution and ease. One step, two steps... “AH!” And he’s been startled quite badly, nearly dropping his precious hovercraft in the process. What startled him? The rather tall android that’s been in the room for a while now.

   Cortex opens his mouth to say something, anything really, but finds himself baffled at the sight. After getting a better grip on his creation, he pinches at his beard with a free hand. “Hm... Never saw Brio as the type to tinker around with robots...” He mumbles, cautiously approaching the figure. “Curious... Oh, I shouldn’t be wasting my time with this! I have a pest problem I need to take care of.” Dismissively, he waves a hand at them, not giving a second thought to the possibility of it being sentient. 

Dropped!

      questions starters // accepting!

       " don’t worry - i’m okay. well, no - not, really okay, but it’ll get better. ” roswell had attempted to catch a lamp that they had accidentally knocked over due to their large frame, which ended in the lamp bulb shattering against their hand. it hadn’t been a large shock, but enough of a jolt to make them check their hand after cleaning up the aftermath.

       roswell’s hand didn’t look too injured - or at least, not to them. uncovered by their usual gauntlet at the moment, their hand loosely fell into the shape of a humanoid hand, though the clay and earth quivered and moved constantly. the only part that remained still, however, was a small portion of their palm had hardened in uneven, patchy spots. it left the affected areas smooth and unmoving, not unlike pottery that had left the kiln. in only a matter of seconds, it began to ‘heal;  pieces of it rejoined the remainder of their body, though - leaving little trace of injury.

       “ …i feel bad about breaking the lamp, though. ”