#eryian

Elephantian | Eyrian | Flotsian

Gnorbian | Gelertian

Elephantian: A gender related to the Neopet Elephante.

Eryian: A gender related to the Neopet Eyrie.

Flotsian: A gender related to the Neopet Flotsam.

Gnorbian: A gender related to the Neopet Gnorbu.

Gelertian: A gender related to the Neopet Gelert.

Neopet genders part three!

@turianspeedjunkie

{Many Years Ago}

Seven pressed the little root into his hands and Eight turned his nose up at the smell of it. “I really don’t want to eat that.”

She bared her teeth in annoyance.“I didn’t say eat it. I said chew it. It’ll help with some of the pain.”

Eight turned the gnarly looking thing over in his talons. It had a smell like rot and decay and wet soil. “If I put this in my mouth, I’m going to throw up. I promise.”

“Maybe you need to throw up.” Seven sneered at him. “Maybe that will teach you to pay closer attention to your surroundings.”

Eight’s mandibles drew in tightly and he glanced covertly around them. One, Five and Nine were hunched by the fire and he was pretty sure Five was chewing on one of the roots too. Eight hoped he’d throw up, if the drell had just watched the width of his biotic field, he and Seven wouldn’t be spot fixing his burns at all.

“Eight.” There was a growl in her tones, that mother varren sort of sound. “I’ll pry your mouth open and stuff it in there. You know I will.”

{Many Years Ago}

Crouched with his chin balanced on his hands atop his knees, Eight surveyed the expanse of open field in front of him. He’d stopped just at the tree-line to confirm what he already knew. There wasn’t an ounce of cover in all that tall-but-not-tall-enough golden grass. Crossing the field would leave him completely exposed. Continuing with the tree-line would take him too far out of his way. A day’s hike east when he needed to go west.

Eight chewed at his knuckle thoughtfully. He had to cross the field, in the open, there just wasn’t any other way about it that wasn’t a huge waste of time. The Lord didn’t like for them to waste time. Eight, personally, didn’t like to be shot and if he crossed the field, the patrol would get to him before he got remotely close to any of those buildings. Fuck.

{Many Years Ago}

“You’re never gonna tell me where you got this ship from, are you?”

Eryian smiled over his shoulder. “I stole it.”

Mavi’s mandibles spread. “You didn’t steal it.”

“Sure I did.” He spun around in the pilot’s seat and gesture around the little shuttle at large. “I battled a Terminus pilot to the death in single combat and then stole his ship.”

Mavi laughed his bright laugh, head thrown back and eyes shining mischief at what he thought was a game. “C’mon Ery.”

“What do you mean c’mon Ery, it’s true.” His smile turned to a smirk. “I was on Taetrus, just for some trade, and this pirate comes over to me, tells me I’m handsome and asks where my owner is because he’d like to know how much I am. I told him that was a massive insult to a free man. He told me a few more insults.”

Mavi was still laughing.

“I’m serious!” But he was laughing too. All the better if Mavi thought it was one of his grand stories of adventure beyond Hierarchy space. “I gave him a few insults of my own and before I knew it, he was trying to hit me! I, of course, hit him back and one thing lead to another and now I have his ship.”

“You didn’t beat a Terminus pirate at single combat.”

He sounded so sure, even with that wide smile... Mavi thought he was gentle. Eryian had taken great care to make Mavi believe he was gentle. “No.” He smiled fondly. “I bought it at auction. Maybe it did belong to a pirate, but now it’s mine.”

Mavi laughed again and then came to sit on his lap. “I knew you were a liar.”

@turianspeedjunkie

He’d killed one of his brothers when they’d broken down the door and forced their way in. He’d injured two of them, fighting as they had all been trained to with talons and teeth and everything else he could get his hands on. But they still overpowered him. They held him pinned, his arms trapped behind his back and his face shoved against the floor and no matter how hard he struggled and fought, Eryian couldn’t break their grip. He bared the back of his neck in defeat and just hoped they killed him cleanly, he hoped they didn’t leave a horrible mess for Mavi to find. He hoped they didn’t wait for Mavi to come home. 

And then, then one of the them held the opened omnitool in front of his face. “Eight, my dear boy... Well, I must say I’m disappointed.”

Eight... He hadn’t been called Eight in almost a year. A wonderful year of being a real person, of thinking and feeling and living as his own entity. He’d forgotten all he was in that year, but his Master’s voice, soft and smooth, reminded him of the approaching storms. Of blizzards and thunder, of shaking earth and rolling seas. Eryian trembled. His heart pounded. The hands that held him tightened.

“I see you do remember me. I had wondered. You’ve been gone so long, dear boy, I was sure you had forgotten me.”

“No, Master.” Was that his voice? It sounded so small, it echoed like speaking into a deep, dark chasm. Eryian swallowed and tried to clear it. “No, Master, I didn’t forget you. I...” By all the gods, what could he say? The truth? The truth would have unspeakable things done to Mavi before they killed him, if they killed him. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry.”

“Not yet you’re not, Eight.” His Master’s voice sounded like snow, like being buried in coldness. “You will be when you get home.”

{Many Years Ago}

There was a datapad on the table. It was propped against one of the empty bottles of horosk with the screen blinking to indicate a message. Eryian, massively hungover and sore in all the best ways, had to drink several cups of water and down half his breakfast before he felt up to looking at it. He was almost surprised to find Mavi already gone for the day, doing whatever it was he did on leave. Eryian had his suspicions, none of them nefarious, just... mundane. He’d certainly never enjoyed sitting in a classroom for the entirety of his day, but he was sure his classes hadn’t been anything like Mavi’s. And he honestly didn’t want to give it anymore thought than that. The Terminus, and his identity as Eight, was behind him. Why go back there? Everything he could ever have or dream to have was here in Hierarchy space and it wasn’t like the Lord was going to come looking for him. He’d probably already written him off as dead. Eryian didn’t let it hurt his feelings.

Not while he still had a killer of a headache, by all the gods. And that datapad was just doing its insistent little blink over and over and over. With a groan, Eryian realized he couldn’t ignore it anymore and swiped open the screen. Mavi’s looped handwriting greeted him.

Good morning! I had an early class. I’’ll bring back lunch. 

{Many Years Ago}

All the checkpoints just to reach the Citadel was the most boring, tedious thing Eight had ever had to do. Out in the Terminus, he could just go places. He didn’t have to show his ID -expertly faked- over and over, he didn’t have to talk to shuttle staff or random people just to fit in. And by all the gods, small talk! He hated it! Every new experience had his plating threatening to crawl off his body and run away. And, he was loathe to admit, he had begun to think the Lord had sent him for the wrong task and it was a...sobering feeling.

At least he’d made it to the Citadel without incident. Just a few looks at the name that had been chosen for him and the color. Lilac. Invictian, he’d heard whispered behind his back a few times already. Not even whispered correctly, he’d quickly learned he was meant to hear it. He’d come to think of it as an insult. And shit, so much for blending in like the Lord had wanted him to. Eight couldn’t figure out why he’d been given a color so divisive among Hierarchy turians or why it was or why it mattered or why it made him feel like it did. The Lord had to have known it would just draw unwanted attention to him and Eight had the terrifying thought that-

A boy dropped into the seat next to him and flashed him a big smile. Eight eyed him, his mandibles tight to his jaw. “You’re not going to insult my colors too, are you?”

The boy blinked bright orange eyes at him. “What? Of course not.” His mandibles flickered here and there and he looked around the shuttle. “Folks been doing that?”

“Yes.” 

“Folks are shitty.” The boy said firmly but with a conspirator's grin and an offered hand. “I’m Mavi.”

@turianspeedjunkie

{Many Years Ago}

Eight let his head rest on the Lord’s knee, looking up at him reverently even as he was ignored in favor of the datapad. He’d been acknowledged only briefly when he’d come into the study, his posture shifting from confidant to subservient in a span of milliseconds. The Lord liked his roguish nature but not behind closed doors. Behind closed doors, Eight knew the Lord wanted the pet he’d made him to be and not the killer he’d been trained as. 

The datapad dropped to the desk with a sharp sound and the Lord’s sigh recalled the calamity of thunder. Eight didn’t flinch, not flinching was something he’d become very good at. “I’m sending you away.”

But he did dig his talons into his own knees as despair and fear rushed him to those four words. Had he done something wrong? Screwed up some other assignment? Had he not pleased the Lord? Only practice kept the swirling emotions from his voice. “Where are you sending me, Master?”

“Council space.” He tapped his talons slowly on the desk. “I need information. I would prefer to send Nine, but you’ll have to do.”

Nine. Of course he would prefer to send Nine... Eight dug his talons in until he felt the relief of skin giving away. “When do I leave?”

“Tonight.” The Lord stood so suddenly that Eight almost fell face-first to the floor. He only just caught himself. “You’ll need to blend in. Everything you’ll need to know is on that datapad. Read it. I’ve picked a color for you, and a name.”

Eight reeled, there on the floor. A color not the white of the Terminus but a real color. Just the thought felt forbidden and strange. And a name? His name was Eight, K-18 if you wanted to get technical... 

“Eryian.”