#oddworld fandom

day two of oddworld-tober ^^ shaman!

I literally made a post saying not to pull this shit, I said I would be taking anon asks as long as people were kind. Yet once again I'm being met with being pushed out of a community I was wanting to get to know about. Being told I don't care when I'm literally still new and learning things. So people apparently can only partake in a community if they only know every little detail about it?

Look if you have an issue with me I'd rather you not be hiding behind anon, it feels incredibly uncomfortable and disrespectful that you would cross a boundary I set in place. The anon asks was to allow people to send asks comfortably, but you keep ruining it for everyone with me needing to turn them off because you don't have the balls to come out and say stuff without hiding behind anon. You make me believe the community is unkind and unwelcoming, when I don't want to believe that because some of the people I have interacted with have been wonderful.

You don't get to dictate what I take interest in and how I enjoy those things. So just leave me alone or at least stop hiding behind anon, it isn't fair on anyone else that you keep doing this. I won't be switching anon off because I put it on to allow people to be comfortable. I didn't put it on to allow you to feel comfortable being unwelcoming, if your going to stand up for what you love then stop hiding. Or are you afraid that if people knew who was doing it that they wouldn't like you as much anymore, since it's a small community alot of people seem to know each other. I doubt it would be fun to find out that someone was going out of Thier way to shun people from a community they apparently care about.

If you love something wouldn't you rather want to share it and talk about it, not being hateful and pushing people away from it.

I'm tired of this, this was a shitty thing to just wake up to.

Edit: anon has apologised for their behaviour however decided not to post a response to that because I don't want to give them more attention than necessary. This will be the last thing I'll be adding to this situation. I've blocked them from being able to send anon asks anymore, this is because they broke a couple of boundaries and have done things that I'm really not comfortable with. Also just didn't enjoy the vibes being brought to the table. Just hope a lesson has been learnt here.

Western mudos is a rough landscape, though only if you allow it to be, if you know what you're doing it's just your day to day, your norm. Since escaping the clutches of some clakker bastards, the Mudokon king, had been trying to adapt to life once again. Trying to act like things didn't go wrong, again, that he wasn't trapped, again. A tiring cycle that saw no end to its dark tunnel, yet he marched on, some myth of light at the end of the tunnel keeping him stepping forward. But was the light truly there?

How could he be sure it wasn't just some finely crafted lie, like everything else on this manufactured world they lived in, overtaken by the industrialists.

The very concept of a better life filled with joy, safety and prosperity, was something he couldn't fully bring himself to believe in.

It had to be a lie, because if it wasn't, why was he never granted it.

Feeling the tug of the fishing wire, coiled tight around his finger, he shook off the thoughts starring into the water of the river. The flow of it steady, yet fast enough it distorted any view below it's surface. Yet he knew he soon would have a catch, about time, his arm was growing tired from holding its position.

As the wire began to dig into his flesh, without giveaway, he finally yoinked his arm back in one swift move, pulling the fishing wire from the water. He then brought his arm back around, dangling his catch in front of him to view his accomplishment ... and what a let down it was. There hung, one of the smallest fish he has ever caught in his lifetime in west mudos, pathetically wiggling around on the hook.

Catching anything decent seemed to be off the table, while his catches hadn't been great lately, this by far was the worst one yet. " I honestly don't even feel like eating you..." He spoke out to the fish, as if it would understand him. " But a man's got to eat " unhooking the fish he pressed one of his claws into its scaly body, the moving finally coming to a stop. The fish was small enough he didn't have to take a knife to it.

At last. The Oktigi almost sighed with relief; waiting for someone to reach out through Freya’s number had become a game of silence that bothered her on a level she could not explain. Two months of waiting for her answering machine, which the wires in the Mudokon's landline had been rerouted to, to sound off.

She let the message play before tapping the button that turned on the microphone, her smile obvious in her tone but completely unevil.

“I secured the rights to her via auction,” she said, her voice slipping through the receiver like oil through water. “She was all anyone could talk about for weeks, being an Undomesticated with such . . .” She made her fingers comb through Freya's limp wings, dragging lightly along the long, heavy-with-texture feathers. They twitched. Their owner did not.

“Potential.”

The price had been high, the interest insatiable. Whispers had swept through Nolybab like fire through dry grass. Eyes turned, wagers were made behind many scenes, theories spun in drawing rooms and laboratories alike. The breeders were anxious; the financiers were intrigued. And the scientists . . . VykkersLabs 16 had not wanted to make her known to anybody on Oddworld.

She remembered how, even after the auction, after the gavel fell and the ink dried, their claws clutched at the property no longer in their name. She could recall each battle, barely won with either words, legal documents, or Palace titles, where organization had fought with everything they had.

Freya had been too small then - barely more than a breath wrapped in down. They had singled her out among the Mudokons in their facility pantry. Prodded her. Poked her. Measured. Injected. Cleaned. And then she was laid, bare, on a metal table, beneath the glare of white-hot lights.

Gloved claws - they were afraid to touch her directly, for multiple reasons - traced the edges of her wings, pinched the delicate structure that would become something more one day. Mudokons did not have wings. Mudokons did not fly. And yet, she existed; she was right in front of them.

“A genetic fluke?” one Vykker mused, turning her over with the precision of a secret agent defusing a bomb. No matter how many times he saw them, he refused to believe his own eyes.

“Or something older,” another murmured. “Something dangerous and new."

She shivered.

“Vivisection,” one proposed. “It's risky, but we could just take some of her apart. See what makes her tick.”

“Implants,” the one beside that doctor countered. “If she can fly, imagine what we could make her do.”

“Sell her,” one not-so-nasally voice interjected. The room quieted, except for the infant's pin-drop inhales and exhales. Everyone's eyes faced the Vykker who looked like he had more years on his oblong head than his colleagues.

“That,” the youngest of the group hissed, “is an utterly idiotic notion. Do you have any idea what the Magog Cartel would do to us if they knew? The fact she's an intact Queen of Native lineage and has these-" He roughly yanked her right down into the air. She whimpered. "-makes her more valuable than anything on Odd! You want everyone and their mother on our backs about the greatest breakthrough in Mudokon biology ever seen?"

Silence, for a breath. Then a chuckle, dark and satisfied.

“They’d do nothing,” the elder continued, “if they thought she was purely our rarest commodity. An asset that needed little correction and would fit into any Industrialist life, thanks to her age.” The words dripped with promise, glutted with greed. “So we auction her. We take a cut for future 'business' funds, secure a deal with some middle-aged Glukkstar or whoever has enough money. And if they want her to stay Intact, we charge extra and majority of all future clutches - lose one, have the chance to study hundreds. Thousands, possibly.”

A murmur of assent; the scent of profit in the air made it too sweet. The calculations continued. The examinations resumed. Preparations were made.

Now, the Oktigi watched as her long-term investment slowly and lazily lifted her head. Her pupils were wide and glassed with something that turned clarity to syrup. Behind her right ear, a whisper of red light pulsed - faint, deliberate, present.

Her owner smiled, tilting Freya’s chin up with the press of two fingers.

and doneeee he livesss, i decided in the end he works as a bodyguard for another mudokon who works as a model [they are featured as a child in the second page]. he isnt owned by the Mudokon just to make that clear, i still dont know what owns him and the model though. but hey thats some more lore added, i might actually draw how that model looks now. im contemplating about the model actually being one of Loks kids [unwanted but was forced into having and then playing bodyguard and carer for].

i know this isnt a character ask blog but i think for lok id be open to people asking questions about him :3 or wanting interaction stuff with him ect. hes a character yall in the community are open to including in stuff if yous want.

and here he is lyle, west, westly whatever you want to call him, eitherway he is a bounty hunter. a mudokon that originally was a factory worker, though when discovered later to have been born a fertile Queen was then taken and made use of. for years he lived everyday tormented by the reality he was in, not just for the heinous things he had to endure, but also the internal pain of not getting to live as his true self, been seen as a queen was a nightmare for him in more ways than one.

though eventually through some efforts of his own he was able to exscape, theres alot more to his story, hes a mudokon thats been through alot of shit. while he is happier now being able to live as his true self, theres still alot he feels he lacks in life to really make it worth while living.