change of heart [kal 1200 tryout] dnp

[wibeke]

Username: wibeke
Name: no true translation in English (roughly resembles the word for "joyful" or "excitement"), later referred to as "Blue"
Gender: agender (they/them)
their species has no concept of gender
Theme: alien
Design:
Notes: Colored spots on tail, eye glow, paw pads, and horn markings change color
Scaled portion of tail is entirely shine

[fullsize]

"Resting" color is the blue-green color seen above. Their body returns to this color when they are not communicating. They can create any color and shade with their bodies, the animation shows a small portion of their possibilities:


These colors are used for communication. Various hues, shades, and brightnesses alongside the speed they are flashed combine to create their language. For example, to "say" their name, one would create two half second flashes of a bright blue-green similar to a brighter version of this kalon's resting color:



Edits
Legendary: gene splicing (mantis shrimp "tail"), color changing, powers (emotional manipulation)
Rare: horns, extra limbs, glow, halo, 2 missing limbs
uncommon: custom ears, custom pupils, short fur
standard: hair, shine
no rarity: weight edit (chubby)

note: this kalon can not levitate, but lives on a planet with a weak gravitational pull

(design was drawn on kalon lines, just mostly relined to coincide with the edits)

[wibeke]

Mantis kalons are a domesticated race of kalons.
Their “wild’ ancestors are kalons that evolved to survive in the lower gravity environment of their home planetary system. Though kalons populated a large expanse of the universe and many closely resemble those that live on earth, this particular colony evolved from a small collection of odd, mutated kalons that were especially well suited for scavenging in this environment. They propel themselves through the environment using their tails and fin-like appendages. Their front pair of legs is typically used for grasping objects while the back pair is used for balance on flat surfaces and for further propulsion.
They lived in small, tight knit colonies that deeply valued ensuring the health and happiness of every member. Each colony functioned as an efficient machine, with each kalon taking on a different and equally important task within the community.

They have developed a unique form of communication. Their home planet provided little light and possessed a very sparse atmosphere, causing sound to be muffled and travel only very short distances. Over time they have lost the ability to speak verbally, instead flashing a variety of different colors to communicate. Their language is as complex as any human language. The color, the length it is displayed for, and how brightly it is displayed combine to create distinct meanings for every different flash.
They also possess the ability to affect the emotions of others, adding emphasis to their “words” and helping each other to more fully understand their own emotional states. A mantis kalon may project feelings of calm and contentment on a scared kit, or project feelings of anger onto a friend to better explain how they felt in a situation they are looking for advice on.
Their language highly values the importance of kindness and empathy, with hundreds of variations of the word “feel” and only rudimentary approximations of words relating to logic and calculations.

Field sketches from an alien biologist:

[wibeke]

Their species was a casualty of the constant fight for territory within the universe. Another kalon species found their planet and upon deciding it would be a suitable place to colonize, rapidly changed the gravitational pull and atmosphere into one that the invaders could more readily survive in.
Being roughly the size of domestic cats and unable to speak or fight, they were quickly brushed aside and driven from their home. Now completely unsuited to the home they had inhabited for hundreds of thousands of years, they died off rapidly.

The species would have been lost if it hadn’t been for a benevolent alien species that heard of their plight and collected the last few wild individuals. The aliens had studied them closely in recent years as they were fascinated with cataloging and understanding the vast variety of species their universe had to offer. They had intended on leaving the species to their own devices, being morally opposed to removing species from the natural habitats, but when the selfish actions of the colonizers sent them into turmoil they felt they had no choice but to step in.

It had been known for some time that the language of the mantis kalons had another element beyond flashing color, but little concrete evidence could be collected as they did not want to capture a specimen and subject it to testing. Field researchers had reported anecdotal evidence of strange effects on their emotions while observing them for years. Some reported feeling strangely elated when friendly mantis kalons approached them, while others reported sudden feelings of intense terror as mothers chased them from their nests. The findings were chalked up to be little more than a show of empathy on the part of the researchers. The aliens were a highly empathetic species, after all, it was an easy mistake to make.
When further examination of their captive specimens became possible, they were astounded to find that those accounts were completely true. Completely enthralled by the prospect of amplifying this ability, they reorganized their breeding program to focus on emotional manipulation ability rather than purely as a measure to save the species. The possibilities, they thought, were endless. These strange creatures could give them the perfect peace keeping force to prevent what happened to the mantis kalons’ planet from every happening again.
Each generation grew increasingly more effective. Their amplified powers combined with their high intelligence and easy language acquisition made them easily trained to work alongside alien caretakers. The mantises were also treated exceptionally well, as the aliens’ detailed records of their habitat and behavior made it easy to provide for them. For most aliens, the mantises were not regarded as pets, but rather as friends and colleagues. They learned their language, made devices to mimic the light patterns emitted by their bodies, and maintained small colonies so that a single mantis would not be prone to loneliness.

As the alien species progressed through the millennia the two became perfectly intertwined; there could be no major diplomatic breakthrough that was not achieved in part by a mantis. It was said that the most powerful of their species could put a malevolent ruler into such an intense state of calm that he would hand over his entire empire and allow himself to be taken prisoner without a second thought. While these accounts are largely exaggerated, the mantises remained a vital aid to alien diplomacy and helped to usher in the longest period of peace that the universe had ever seen.

They were, of course, called upon as soon as a new threat was identified. The cyborgs had been operating for quite some time and their actions in exploring new planets were rapidly tipping towards unchecked aggression. It was vital that the aliens, a peace loving and typically non violent species, stepped in before they could gain any more momentum.
It should have been an easy fix. All it would take was a meeting between alien diplomats and the cyborg king to neutralize the threat. A team of the most elite mantises would accompany the diplomats to lower tensions and set the cyborg king into a more agreeable mindset. Both teams would work perfectly in tune with one another and eliminate yet another threat, as they had countless times before.

It rapidly became clear that this would not be the case.
The cyborg leader was a powerful, cruel creature– a fact that each of the aliens had been informed of but the sheer scale of which could not be fully grasped until he had entered the room. He was brutish even by the cyborg’s rather lofty standards. He was among the first of the kalons to modify their bodies, and the only one of his batch to survive, a fact that brought him get renown within his community despite his rudimentary brain enhancements warping him into a snarling, violent shell of the practical and kind leader he once was.
He moved with quick frenzied motions, propelled by shoddily constructed heaps of rusting metal in jagged shapes that erupted from brittle fur and infected masses of flesh. His one organic eye stood unnervingly still as the robotic enhancement scanned to the room. It seemed much too listless, as if there was nothing left of the kalon that hadn’t been overtaken by wiring and electricity.
The aliens were unnerved but still felt assured in their research. Beneath the violence and anger lay a foolish and easily influenced kalon. If the mantises could keep his emotions under control, which they had no reason to doubt, it would be simple to bribe him with gifts and offers of uninhabited planets far from the species he threatened to harm.
By the time the cyborg had lunged for the head diplomat, it was already far too late for them to realize their mistake. The heavily altered cyborg brain was immune to the influence of the mantises powers, there was nothing the aliens could do to quell his rage.
The mantises attempted to defend their alien crew mates, scurrying into the path of the rampaging beast as the surviving diplomats made their way back to the ship. In end, three of the five diplomats and all twenty mantises were killed in the rampage. The two survivors were gravely wounded but managed to pilot themselves home and report the massacre to the aliens’ high council.

The survivors did not report the sacrifices of the twenty mantises that were killed in their place, throwing their bodies at the beast and surviving just long enough to allow the aliens an escape. They did not report the errors in the reports or the negligence of the research committees to not test the effects of cybernetic implants on the mantises abilities. They did not report on the foolishness of sending diplomats to a hostile planet with an unstable ruler completely unarmed.
But they were quick to note the failure of the mantises, that if they had done their jobs then all their colleagues would be alive right now and they wouldn’t bear the horrific scars and trauma of their encounter. Children wouldn’t be orphaned, parents wouldn’t have lost their sons and daughters, loving spouses wouldn’t be left widowed due to the complete inaction of a species that was supposed to prevent events like this from ever occurring. The blame was placed fully on the shattered backs of those who gave everything they could to save them.

Public backlash was immediate. The high council fed into the chaos, unwilling to admit that they were largely at fault for the incident and the rapidly building conflict. The universe hadn’t been at war for several thousand years, and they found themselves in the unthinkable position of being on the brink of shattering that peace. It was far easier to spread the lie that the mantises were solely at fault than to acknowledge their own wrong doing.
The council told it’s citizens that it would be ceasing it’s mantis program effective immediately. The breeding program would be shut down, trainers would be reassigned to more productive venues, and mantises would no longer be permitted to travel on missions.
The market for mantis kalons practically shrivelled up over night. Suddenly faced with the reality that few aliens would buy their stock, breeders rapidly lost their income and many were forced to release their own colonies because they were either no longer capable of feeding them or saw no use to care for creatures that would no longer turn a profit. As the reality of an approaching war set in amongst the public, many who had previously considered mantises to be family suddenly cast them out like an abandoned pet.

Within decades mantis kalons fell from an essential piece of alien society to little more than a quirky pet. Some upper class aliens continue to breed them for their own purposes, such as easing depression, particularly unique colors and patterns, and occasionally as companion animals; but their place in the world saw a marked shift from a revered necessity to a niche hobby.
The surviving ferals took up residence on nearby trash planets- massive chunks of floating scrap metal and other cast offs held together by a loose gravitational pull. It was just similar enough to their home to forge some sort of miserable existence, despite its landscapes of jagged metal and disease.
They would be okay, they assured eachother. They could feel it.

[wibeke]

The planet was a cold, desolate place.
Though it emitted no colors and possessed no feelings, sometimes it seemed as alive as any mantis with its enveloping darkness and ability to thrust hopelessness upon all who came near it.
The mantises were meant to value the blessings their planets bestowed upon them, no matter how scarce. It was, after all, how they had gotten by long before their benefactors had come to save them- and condemn them. Adapting was nothing new.
It’s blessings came in odd, often cruel, forms. They found them in scraps of rotted food that were caught as it passed through the planet system and in the ever present darkness that allowed their own colors to shine even brighter. There was kindness in the solid, if jagged and cobbled together, ground that they rested their feet on. Many of their kin weren't so lucky, left to die in the cold expanse of space before the land could swallow them whole.
Once, they were even afforded the blessing of seeds discarded from a passing ship. The colony cared for them painstakingly, delighting as the frail plants reached through the cold air towards the light of a far away sun. The crops were small and seemed to wither away at the slightest of disturbances, but the colony rejoiced nonetheless.
Clinging desperately to every hint of life, they learned to feel love for a land that afforded them nothing and who never wanted to be settled or loved in return. It was a hard life, and often a painfully short one, but they were surviving none the less. They were grateful of everything and always positive, almost desperately so, because the only alternative was despair. And being taken over by their sadness, finally giving in to generations of seemingly unending hardship, meant death.
And so they learned. The mantises were nothing if not determined.

The colony was, at times, almost indistinguishable from one another. They worked seamlessly, each member a perfect cog in their machines as they painstakingly carved out a place in their uncaring world. It was a necessity, with so many mouths to feed and so little to go around.
This machine made it especially obvious when one of its pieces began to falter.

The little blue kalon watched from the outskirts, finding their time much better spent examining the metallic objects found in the rubble than it was amidst the rest of the colony, crashing together in close quarters and slowing down the bustling colony. They would integrate themselves into the world for a brief, fantastic moment before their clumsy paws threw another wrench in the process. They wanted so desperately to work in this perfect harmony alongside their colony, but each attempt only ended in confusion and derision. The paths each mantis had followed for centuries still felt as foreign as they did when they were only a kit.

You should know better, their colors would say, why don't you learn?
Often it was hard to tell if the pang of disappointment came from within themselves or from the kalons around them; drawing annoyance from a species built on a thousand years of patience.

The little blue kalon tried their hardest, even as every piece of them seemed determined to disobey. Their colors flashed much too brightly, even their most earnest of words almost becoming a scream. Their emotions were too intense and powerful, twisting the feelings of those around them in ways that went past sharing and felt more like an attack. Even among the piles of discarded, carefully sorted robotic parts with their rudimentary machines they felt the judging stares.

Useless, they would flash. The color always stuck out so clearly in their head, this horrid infected yellow that dripped with ugly cruelty. Worried disappointment turned to visceral disgust. Those carelessly shared sentiments merged with their own, becoming much too easy to adopt as they failed to find a point of disagreement.
Every turn of a screw and flap of a mechanical bird's wing twisted each memory to the fore front like a knife in the throat. Their own colors flashed that same muddy yellow, in the slow and derisive way that seemed to make it hang in the darkened air for just a second too long. Useless. And there their project would lay, abandoned.

Yellow seemed to stain every aspect of their life they once treasured, every trait they once adored, until they could no longer remember a time when the colony flashed any other color in greeting than that one terrible hue.

They were determined to scrape it from their name, work until the only colors flashed were the gentle pinks of a friendly "hello." they would even settle for nothing at all, no more highly regarded than a corroded statue or pile of rubble.
Slowly they learned to warp and twist their own language, each flash of color dulling from a natural expression to a carefully crafted hues that, even then, never seemed “correct” enough to satisfy anyone. Their emotions were stilted and restrained, none of them shared unless they were certain of their appropriateness; even as they wondered what that entailed.
It all seemed so simple to the rest. The others carried on conversation as if it were nothing, a task so menial it required not even the slightest bit of thought. They seemed to analyze each color all the while, every emotion compared with exacting detail against a complicated mass of rules the blue kalon had never even known existed.
Each of their own colors were a slip up, each one too bright, too fast, the colors in an order that no one could ever quite make sense of. They tried to catch each slip up before it could escape, carefully mulling over the exact shade of warm gray to express the right amount of sympathy for a struggling colony mate; but each color was slippery and intangible, slithering through their paws to the always judging eyes before they had a change to contain it.
When their emotions weren't too powerful, they were too closed off. How do you feel today? was brushed off, a non committal feeling of forced happiness only raising more questions that the other conversationalists saw no true benefit in asking. they would try again, more forceful, and they only shy away in confusion.

Why won't you learn?

A constant thread of frustration now ran through each flash, bubbling in every failed interaction and stumble and imparting their turmoil on all who came near them. As each emotion became jumbled, a piece in a game they were always doomed to lose, it didn't seem to matter much at all what they said or what they projected. It was either to avoid the world and be avoided, a task that the colony took to without hesitation.
And so they withdrew again, paws clutching that mechanical creature to their chest though they didn't dare make another adjustment. They turned the gear on it's back and watched as it flapped its wings furiously, springs properly coiled and gears working in perfect harmony but still lacking feathers it needed to fly.
Useless, they thought, tossing the bird to the ground.

Perhaps, if anyone cared to notice, they’d find that their frustration had turned to sadness. They were hard to find, now, with their colors dimmed and emotions restrained. Perhaps if one were lucky one might catch a glimpse of a shining tail or feel the dull pull of lingering heartbreak, but it would only be for a second before they scurried away.

Still, the colony tried to show kindness in what little ways they could. They shared their food and their shelter and they tried to share to practice tolerance where they could where they could, but as time went on it felt less like kindness and more the obligation of a species that knew all too well the pain of being abandoned.
The colony would not condemn them to die, but they felt as if they were an exile all the same.
As days stretched on, they drifted farther and farther from the colony's relative safety.
Even in near perfect solitude, rendered practically invisible by each passing face, it was impossible not to feel as if every eye was fixed solely upon them. Each prying eye clung to their shell, their fur, paws; every surface until they felt as if they were being suffocated. Each day the checklist grew longer.
Look away, don't make eye contact. No one will approach if you don't look interested. No emotions, not joy nor heart break. No one wants them, their expressions aren't worth the inconvenience. Paws still, even as they beg to tap on the ground or scratch patterns in the ground or create a new machine. It only draws attention, just another unwanted piece to chop out. Colors faded to black. Find a hiding spot. Eat while the others sleep.
Ignore the hunger. Ignore the pain. Ignore the gnawing loneliness in the pit of their chest. No one wants to deal with it, they'll only get in the way.
Cut out every feeling, every urge, every unique piece until there's nothing left. Maybe then it would be enough.

[wibeke]

No one ventured this far, on this strange untamed side of the planet. This deserted portion was malicious, murderous and entirely determined to remain as it was. Though the colonies small home was hardly welcoming, generations of mantises gradually wrenched a tenuous peace from it's snarling jaws. This land bared no mark of any mantis, only the work of thousands of years of debris scarring it's surface.

The blue kalon shrunk into themselves as they floated forward. Their paws brushed the surface tentatively, not daring to put their full weight for fear of what pointed objects lied under foot. With each step the world grew more confusing, so far removed from the world they called home and yet strangely familiar, like a corrupted echo.
They felt fully now, broadcasting their fear more fully than they ever had in their lives. Their body flashed in a terrifying array of colors, shouting every fear and frustration that had wreaked havoc throughout their head for so long, tearing apart every single piece of them, one by one as they ricocheted their way through.
Suddenly this land didn't seem quite so terrible, hidden so far away from the prying eyes of each mantis with their concerned looks and thinly veiled derision. They had never felt so lonely as they did amongst the colony, surrounded by her kin, and yet here in this empty world they finally felt free. There was no one to say they were too loud, too bright, too much. here they could be just enough, they could cobble together some hard fought existence in the world just as those first lost mantises did a thousand years ago.
It was as far from useless as they felt they could be.

Suddenly the sky seemed to spring to life, filled with every hue of burning orange that seemed to grow ever brighter with each passing second.
As its colors brightened, theirs began to fade. Their brief moment of celebration ended as abruptly as it began, replaced by growing concern. Perhaps they were not welcome here, after all.

The light exploded into a deafening crash, scattering debris in every direction as flames began to envelop everything that it had brought with it.
Curiosity pulled the mantis closer. They had seen crashes before, but only as distant events far removed from the realm of the colony. They had exchanged sympathies with the kin of those who stood too closely in their paths, and comforted those who's lives would soon be extinguished in the aftermath, but they had never truly seen it unfold.
they always imagined it to be peaceful and slow, as it appeared from so far away. There would be a dull glow in the sky, then a silent collision and then nothing. Now it was just the opposite, loud and explosive and all consuming. The heat of the fire licked at their fur- a warning to come no closer.
They were willing to heed this warning and wander off to a safe place to ward off the fast appoaching night, but a sudden burst of movement pulled their focus back to the scene unfolding. There was something in the flames, scrambling to get free. The mantis dashed into hiding, poking their head out from behind the remains of a fallen meteor that gave them shelter.

An occasional glint of reflected flame revealed it to be inorganic, but in the mass of squealing and kicking tufts of fur also came into view. They had never seen anything quite like it. Their thoughts jumped to the stories the elders told them, of animals more machine than flesh and of their violent hand in the mantis' migration to this hellish world. Animals with forms much their own and even more like those of their ancestors, but with machines working seamlessly inside of them. Making them more powerful, more intelligent, more dangerous.
The mantis shuffled backward at the thought. If those stories were to be believed then they had to escape unseen before this beast could mount their attack. How many mantises before them were killed as a result of their trusting nature?
Trust was an easy thing for a mantis to give, something expected of them in their every interaction and with each shared feeling. It was unwavering and unquestioned. The reclusive young mantis had more than enough reason to shy away, but even they could feel the pull of their species' unfailing desire to be kind.
They found themselves slowly propelled in spite of themselves, drifting soundlessly through the air as chunks of debris floated past. Upon closer inspection it seemed that the creature was terribly injured. Sparks poured from mangled prosthetics and its organic pieces hardly fared better.


It was bigger than any mantis they'd ever seen, with teeth much too large and a pair of legs and small tail in place of a scaled hind end.
It's glow came in the form of a thousand sparks and warning lights, a thousand alarms ringing in a clash of noises that the mantis couldn't hope to understand. They tried to read each flash, concern growing as each flash created a stream of strange words with no meaning. The bright oranges and yellows typically denoted joy- but they found little to be joyful of in this situation. Perhaps this was according to some strange, alien plan.
Yet the other lights told different stories, saying everything from fear to love to colors they had never once seen flash across the bodies of even the most eloquent of mantises. Almost like a child babbling aimlessly, stringing together colors they've seen but never mastered.
And though the creature emitted a sound, a horrific screech that seemed to tear at the flaming world around them, and their face mirrored the pained faces of terror she'd seen in similarly misfortunate mantises, they seemed to share no emotion.

They had become all too familiar with the scenes of disfigurement and pain that came along with the colonies home. It only took one mistake, one unlucky move for a structure to collapse and take with it the life of another of the community. It was rare that they even recognized the face of the victim, but it became routine none the less to offer comfort. The colony would come to a stop, gathering around its fallen member, and they would offer whatever help there was to give. It was rarely much. The planet didn't give much in the way of healing or medicine, it's infected surface causing even the smallest of wounds to fester. All they could give was comfort.
A thousand offers of warm feelings and content, chasing away their fear as they drifted away- hopefully to a much kinder place. The blue kalon had grown used to the routine, performing it all too often. They almost grew to enjoy it. It was one of the few times that they had fit in. It was one of the few times that it was impossible to feel to intensely, they couldn't be faulted for providing too much to the dying. It was one of the few times they felt needed, one of the few talents they possessed.

This was different.
They had grown so used to that anguished, panicky feeling in their chest spreading from the distressed kalon that its absence was almost as unnerving. It was a strange kind of silence that stood out even among the relentless screaming.
Their tail glowed in a slow progression of soft colors, conveying sequences that could be best translated as kind assurances. They forced down the uncertainty in their chest, conjuring up feelings and memories of warmth and safety in their place and projecting it towards the struggling creature. They could feel themselves practically shouting, releasing every limit they had placed on the emotions that for the first time felt much too quiet.
But the sounds continued, growing louder in between ragged breathes. A glowing eye met theirs, but it only furthered the creature's panic. It didn't make any sense.

They were beside the fallen creature now, and the full extent of the damage was becoming clear. The bulk of the carnage was relegated to the robotic enhancements. Metal legs snapped in two, machinery shredded like fragile paper.

Their tail flickered turquoise in two quick flashes in an attempt to tell the creature their name. The creature continued to emit a tangle of nonsensical colors, giving the mantis no reason to assume that they had understood any piece of the message or that they had tried to relay their own name as well. Perhaps their brain was damaged in the collision, they'd seen such an event before.
And yet it was still making its strange noises, in tones and patterns that seemed complex as any combination of colors they had experienced. Most of the sounds were accompanied by the same pained, terrified expression they had held since the moment they appeared, but sometimes it changed. The creature was equal parts terrified and pleading, looking to the stranger both as a threat and as a potential savior.
They learned to focus on the face. Even as nonsense poured out of their mouth and colors flashed hideously out of tune, there were elements that still felt oddly similar to their own. In something as small as the furrowing of an eyebrow or a curling of the lip, they found the same expressions as they saw in their kin.
They tried their best to convey an echo of the calm that escaped the creature.
It was a difficult task. It had been so long since the kalon had felt genuine concern for anyone. Faking emotions was easy enough, their species was more than specialized enough in the matter for it to come as second nature, but manipulating their face was somehow more difficult. It felt like a lie in a way that emotions never did, were never supposed be.
Still, the creature seemed to soften, if only for a moment. They seemed so desperate for comfort, in whatever strange form it could come in, that the small gesture had been welcomed.
It was speaking again, in tones that sounded softer but no less foreign. The words were heavy and choked, forced from mechanical lungs sputtering for air. The mantis leaned in closer to the struggling creature, examining what remained of their "enhancements"- though in their sorry state it was hard to call them such. They had become so engrossed in their study they almost didn't notice the stump of a leg, stripped of its robotic parts, reaching towards them and coming to a gentle rest on their paw.
The mantis stared dumbfounded at the limb for a moment. It was seemingly uninjured in the crash- whatever had taken the rest of the organic portion had done so long ago. Their eyes flickered to the kalon's face. They recognized the expression, though it seemed out of place. It was trusting and kind, perhaps the most genuine display of it they had ever been shown.
They shakily returned the gesture, carefully placing their own paw on the shortened limb. They tried their best to mimic the expression as well, with less difficulty this time, and gave a slight nod of their head.
This seemed to please the strange kalon, who attempted to return the nod with a jerking head movement before the last of their strength faded, leg drifting limply to the ground and the lights and whirring of machinery glided to a halt.


Wait!


Their colors snapped from calming tones to the sharp white of panic. This kalon couldn't pass now, not this soon and not like this. It was unfair, so terribley unfair, that the first creature to show them genuine kindness now lay motionless at their feet. It couldn't end like this.

Their paws worked quickly, pulling apart metal casings to reveal the machinery inside before they even knew what they were doing.
It didn't make much sense at all. They had made plenty of machines before, but nothing to this extent. Maybe they could have learned, if they had practiced instead of shunning their creations, but as it stood the technology was far outside their grasp. Their animals had no lungs, no life to sustain or blood to transport. Constructed of trash and returned to it when they were finished, it was such an absurdly low stakes game that it hardly even felt applicable here.

It was quickly becoming apparent that many of the parts were unsalvageable, bent and twist into unrecognizable pieces as if they were made of soft clay. They needed replacement parts. Their gaze shifted back to the distant silhouette of the colony and the towers f discarded robotic parts that reached towards the sky.
It was time to go home, they realized as they jolted forward.

They found themselves swallowed by the territory of the colony once more, paying no head to the confusion and judging stares around them as they dug through the carefully sorted piles of mechanical refuse that towered far above them. Though the colony failed to find a use for the pieces, they dutifully sorted and cataloged each piece as they did for every other scrap of litter that they pulled from within the massive trash heap they called home. For once they found reason to be grateful for their homeland, though it never felt like home to them. They could be happy for this much, that their kin had inadvertantly found a way to help save their friend.
A few gears here, a pile of circuits there, all the parts were tossed into a steadily growing pile. In another they found a rough approximation of a robotic leg and a network of strange tubes and balloons that vaguely resembled artificial lungs. The pile was a rough and strange one, being little more than an odd assortment of parts from enitrely different sources, but for now it would have to do.
It had to be enough.
The little blue kalon managed to gather everything into their arms, their tiny body hardly strong enough to support and balance the added weight. They pushed forward all the same, managing to find their way back to the injured kalon despite the exhaustion and trembling muscles threatening to pull their mission to a standstill.

The metal pieces fell to the ground in a sharp commotion. They were becoming more aware of sound now, in a way they never had before. The sounds the creature made played over and over in their head. The creature had obviously tried to say something to them before, but they had never once heard sound used in that form.

They had to get this right. They had to hear it again.

They pulled out twisted and melted pieces, doing their best to match up each ruined piece with a similar one from the pile. The robotic legs were simple to replace, though their lengths and articulations varied. They managed to reconnect a variety of torn and frayed wires, replaced most of the damaged pieces with what they could only hope were suitable replacements. Even as several of the machines whirred to life, its body remained limp. They watched the rise and fall of its chest- far too slow, its only breaths coming in staggered desperate bursts.
They grabbed the set of artificial lungs they had pulled from the pile and began their work. A few tweaks to that strange construction of air compressors and tubes and it suddenly roared to life with a grinding cacophony of mismatched parts. The other kalons breathing slowed further, coughing breaking the deafening silence. They connected a few more wires, attaching anything that looked like a route in the hopes that something would help the kalon breathe again.
More silence, then more coughing.

The next sound startled the mantis so much they nearly fled. Instead of the gentle sound of steady breathing, the kalon suddenly roared to life in a furious commotion of coughing and sputtering. Mechanical limbs kicked in every direction, creaking and snapping as each one rebelled against the a body they clearly were not made for and attempting to support an animal too damaged to make use of them just yet.
It's eyes darted back and forth, frantically observing every detail before once again settling on its savior. The sight seemed to calm the kalon slightly, even as its body was wracked with pain and desperate for breath. It was trying to speak again, though it hardly registered as language to the mantis. Though it seemed thankful, they couldn't discern much more.

[wibeke]

The kalon almost never stopped talking, filling the otherwise silent air with a variety of patterns and strings of syllables the mantis kalon could not even begin to comprehend. They enjoyed it nonetheless, following each specific sting of phrases as the creature produced a seemingly infinite array of vocalizations.
It was strange to hear something so carefully constructed and intricate. sound had little bearing on the colony. It came in the form of their decaying planet creaking at its seams and in objects crashing to the ground in sharp, clanging bursts. Sometimes they could be pleasing, like the soft brush of a kit's paws stumbling forward for the first time, or the hm of distant space craft that let each mantis's minds wander to the thought of different, gentler worlds for only a moment. Most often it came in the form of growling stomachs, a sound so constant that most fully tuned it out.
The sounds he produced were pleasant, endlessly varied yet surprisingly constant. The same word could be said with an infinite number of inflections, yet the voice that produced them held to the same low, gentle tone. They had spent hours listening to him talk, doing their best to follow even as the language fully escaped them.
The other kalon, in turn, delighted in watching the mantis's colors change. What seemed so simple to the kalon, an everyday occurrence that they found fully unremarkable in others and disastrous in themselves, was incredible to this foreign kalon.
Though neither could quite understand the other, they both deeply enjoyed these conversations that often stretched on for hours. It was difficult for one to comprehend the others vastly different manner of speaking, but their worlds slowly began to come together.

It started with names.
The strange kalon would gesture to himself and create a sound, the same one each time. It was unique as far the the mantis could tell, differentiating itself from the slew of sounds and patterns the kalon created in each interaction. "Nico," he would say, and the kalon would just stare back, absorbing every scrap of information but not quite making the connection.
"Nico," he'd say again, taking care to pronounce each syllable clearly.
This time, the mantis understood, nodding back happily. The other kalon- Nico; was elated. He gestured back to the mantis in much the same way as he did to himself. The mantis's body flashed a brilliant light blue, twice in a short interval.
Nico stared for a moment, understanding clear in his face but a hint of confusion still evident. "Blue?" he said tentatively, gesturing once more.
The mantis flashed their name once more.
Nico smiled in understanding, "Blue! Nice to meet you Blue!"

The days passed quickly in their strange new territory.
Often they passed their days just talking endlessly, ascribing new words and meanings to every object and every experience. Nico pointed to the remains of the ship he had arrived in and carefully sounded out the word "rocket," while Blue showed a slow glow of bright red orange in return. Blue learned that they were called a "mantis kalon," Nico learned that the the color of "cyborg" was nearly identical to the color of "aggressor," a brief flash of pure red.
Nico managed to modify one of his sensors to flash in a simplified rainbow that followed his commands. it was hardly suitable for conversing with a mantis, but it was a useful tool in attempting to clarify some of the more troublesome translations. Blue, in turn, attempted to speak back to him. The resulting sounds were rudimentary at best, just hoarse approximations from a species that had evolved for thousands of years without need for speech.

Other days were passed almost entirely in silence, the two tinkering away at the makeshift repairs that the mantis had performed now several months ago. Between the two of them it was a relatively easy task to return each part into working order. Nico had detailed instructions to give and a working knowledge of each machine, but Blue's innovations were often equally as impressive. What the cyborg could accomplish only with new pieces taken directly from his home world and nowhere to be seen on this scattered planet, Blue could cobble together an equally functional contraption pulled together entirely from rusted scrap.
Nico was in awe, both at those hastily created fixes (the artificial lungs alone had taken several decades for cyborg scientists to iron out- those early versions were typically unstable and terribly dangerous) and at the ingenious ways the the mantis improvised inventions out of practically nothing.
"It's incredible" he noted, turning an improved prosthetic leg over in his paws and examined the delicate work. "I... we never knew your species had such a grasp on technology. Or, well, much of anything really, a lot has been lost over the past thousand years," he noted.
"Only me," the mantis flashed in a palette of muted greens and yellows, "useless hobby." The morphing colors of their shell seemed to sting. It had been so long since they had used such a color to describe themselves, just the thought of it conjuring memories they had fought so hard to push away again.
Nico was taken aback by the statement, his face furrowing in confusion and heartbreak, "It's not useless at all, you saved my life! Who..." his voice caught in his thought for a moment, sheer disbelief halting his words, "who would ever even tell you such a horrible thing? You're incredible, absolutely incredible."

The mantis seemed even smaller than usual, shrinking into themselves in a way they hadn't since this entire experience had begun. They stared back at the kalon unblinking, a seemingly blank expression upon their face despite the massive rush of conflicting emotions rushing through them unbeknownst to the cyborg.
It was, perhaps, the first time anyone had tried to refute such a claim. they were so used to being cast aside, called "useless' and "stupid' for so long and stated as such simple facts that they had simply come to accept it. Even now, in the presence of someone who clearly enjoyed their presence, it still remained in their head as an unspoken fact that he had avoided out of sheer politeness.
And yet, here he was, denying a piece of them that had slowly devoured and twisted every aspect of themselves.
They could only flash a sequence of soft pinks and blues gradually fading into each other. It was a color he had never seen before, one that Blue had never seen reason to show to any other.


I love you.


He was gone only a few weeks later.
Blue had known it would happen. It was inevitable, they had even helped matters along by helping to track down and repair a suitable ship. They just always hoped it would take longer, that maybe their fortune would change and he would decide that this cruel mass of scrap and space junk would somehow be preferable to his home.
But they both knew this planet could no longer sustain him. The mantis had a difficult enough time finding food for themselves, and they were less than a quarter of his size. The kalon was in rough shape upon his arrival, and despite his otherwise drastically improved physical condition his skin still hugged his ribs much too tightly and the pain of hunger seemed to grow ever more present.
One way or another, this planet would kill him if he stayed. No one was welcome here, but this world seemed to take a particular dislike to him. It tried its hardest when he arrived, not accounting for a tiny inhabitant, and it only redoubled its effort upon that first failure.

He promised he would return.
The mantis had no reason to doubt this. A mantis always kept their promises, no matter hw simple or difficult to keep. In a world built solely on cooperation, where a simple broken promise could so easily snowball into a life ending betrayal, promises were one of the many life lines that the colony held dear.
Nico had no such weight upon his shoulders. The cyborgs were much more detached, easily swayed by their own foolish whims and desires. Their species was built on conquest and innovation, every advancement creditted to an individual rather than their society as a whole.
Yet Blue never doubted his promise. If any of them were good enough, determined enough, Nico was.

But the planet was cold and empty, a fact that they were so easily able to ignore in the that brief period of happiness. The blackened skies and piles discarded garbage almost became tolerable in those short months, surrounded by the warm company of the first friend they ever had. Everything was softened then. Even the most bitter nights were blissfully calm in comparison.

They didn't dare make their way back to the colony.
They knew enough now to know that they weren't welcome, that those supposed flaws that ate away at them from the days they first learned to change their colors were only a fault of their own kin. That first stretch had nearly killed them, eating away at them piece by piece until only a shell was left.
But even then it was somehow tolerable. They had never known any different. They never knew anything better, with not even an inkling of what life could be life outside those cruel prying eyes.
Now they knew better. They knew they were worth more than to be cast aside and thrown scraps out of pity. If Nico could find value in their creations and learn to tolerate, adore, even, their too bright language and odd mannerisms, then the rest of the world could do the same.

Until then, they would just have to make do alone.

[wibeke]

The world shook violently for a moment, tossing the bug from their paws just before they could eat it.
The mantis glared at the scurrying creature, paws reaching out to recapture it just before their attention cut away.

A ship!

The mantis shot forward, hardly waiting for the ship to finish its landing. They recognized it so clearly, even beneath the fresh coat of paint and swapped out parts. They helped restore the ship with their own paws, with the promise that one day soon they would see it again. He had kept his promise.
"Blue!"
It hardly even registered as a word now. It was something more, a sound the held as much emotion as any that a mantis had ever shared. In it they found his love and kindness and joy, and so much more than any one of their colors or the cyborg's sounds could explain.
The two wordlessly embraced eachother, both so thankful to finally see the friend they had left behind. There was no word or color necessary, the cyborg's immunity to the mantis's powers doing nothing to stop the joyful tears streaming down his cheeks.


With his reunion came with the ship stocked fully with food, seeds, and whatever other useful scraps the kalon could cobble together. It wasn't much, in the cyborg's eyes, but to the mantis it was an incredible feast. In the ship's small interior held more food than they could manage to eat in a particularly bountiful month.
"What is this for?" Blue asked, the colors flickering tentatively. They didn't dare assume that they were to partake in any of it; they knew better than to expect such a gift, even from one they loved so dearly.
"You. And the others, uh, if you want," the cyborg answered, gesturing back to the ship. "It's the least I can do. I owe you, Blue," he said, his voice kind and earnest.
The mantis stared back in quiet horror. Perhaps they misunderstood the significance of that brief period of friendship. Was he only speaking to them to pass the time and using them to fetch spare parts? Had they only returned out of a sense of obligation, paying them off in food and gifts to settle some foolish debt? Doubt began to taint all of those previously happy memories, pulling memories tinted pink and blue into auras of grey dejection. It was all far too easy to let go of, part of them always knew it wasn't genuine.
Nico balked at the strange display, confusion clear in his face as the color drained from the previously ecstatic kalon. "Blue, what's wrong? Did I... do you not want this? Did I offend you? I..." his voice trailed off, so fully at a loss for words he hardly knew what to do but to stand awkwardly and plead.
The mantis looked back at him, five eyes widened in sadness and their colors drained of their natural brightness. They wanted to understand, they truly did, but it was impossible to shake the doubts from their mind. Their colors twisted a grey purple, a slow flash denoting a single word:
obligation.
"Is... is that all you think this is? That here because I have to be?" the kalon whimpered, a look of stunned heart break coating his face. "You... you don't have to take it, Blue. I just... I just thought it would help. I care about you, I always have. Don't... don't you... why wouldn't you believe me?" he tried to explain, words catching in his throat as he fumbled for answers to questions he hardly understood.
The kalon had always been so eloquent and confident, traits the mantis had always truly admired. There were cracks in it now, cracks they'd never seen before. It hardly made them feel better to know that his distress was genuine.
The mantis moved slowly towards the cyborg, nestling their small body underneath his chin.
I missed you.
"I missed you too"



Eventually the time came for him to leave again, as it always did.
But they were confident in their promises, never to doubt each other again even as those cruel thoughts clawed away at the mantis's head. He would always come back, and they would always be there to greet him. They never could rely on their kin in the way the colony stressed, but in this strange foreign kalon they found the next best thing.

His visits became frequent occasions, each time he arrived with a ship stocked full of supplies. He found parts and blue prints for Blue to tinker with, piles of fresh food unlike anything the mantis had ever seen, and a variety of seeds and dirt for the kalon to experiment with. Something had to grow on this barren planet, he'd say, if an entire society can take root then there must be some plant that can flourish here, too. "Or maybe there's nothing else in this universe as tough as you," he'd say with a charming grin.
You are, they would flash without a hint of teasing.

They would talk about anything and everything. Nico always had much more exciting tales to weave, Blue thought, but the cyborg always insisted on watching the daily workings of their life unfold in their colorful stories all the same.
The talk often fell to the subject of the war.
Blue was confused at the prospect. The prospect of anyone having time to fight in such a bloody war, killing in the name of strategy over feuds started long before they had ever had the the chance to exist, sounded so bizarre to them. They had spent so long living in the aftermath of that first fateful strike of conflict for so long that it never occurred to them that there might have been anything that came after.
The story had always ended there, when the mantises first set foot in this cursed place. That was the day the rest of the universe, a place they were once so attuned to, ceased to progress. they had only their own stories. The stories were passed down through every generation, in horrific feelings so clear and heavy with sadness that they almost felt like memories.
Nico tried to explain, with increasing confusion, how the war had progressed to this point. But the mantis was so saturated in the world of hard fought, tiny victories that the idea of such a massive and all consuming beast was fully incomprehensible to them. And the harder he tried to explain, the less any of it made sense even to the cyborg.
They discussed it at length with every visit, spirited debates cropping up at its very mention but always feeling much too far away to even matter. Nico had never been a soldier, he was just a humble smuggler by trade. The war wreaked havoc on his prices and made travel a bit of a pain, but the effects were hardly more than an inconvenience.

Until the day he was drafted into the war he detested. A general had gotten wind of his impressive ability to pilot a ship, and he was set to lead his own regiment within the week.

"I'll come back," he assured, "I'll drag the entire fleet here if that's what it takes, Blue, I swear." His voice was unusually calm, but his quivering jaw and tear stained face betrayed the emotions he tried to veil. "I promise this won't be the last time I see you."
The mantis could do nothing but bury their face in his chest, as they had so many times before. They listened to the slow whirr of the artificial lungs, metal pieces cool against their skin and soft fur cushioning tired body.
No amount of time would have felt like long enough. When it was finally time for him to leave, it was nearly impossible for the two to separate once more.
And then suddenly he was gone, the ship only a distant pale orange dot in the sky.

The kalon would sit atop the highest piles, eyes transfixed on the sky each day. They ignored the stares, the growling of their stomach and the doubts in their mind. Nico would return soon, he made a promise and he would never be careless enough to break it.
Below them mantises scurried all about. Some fussed over gardens of plants, others gnawed contentedly on coarse green stalks. One of the Nico's plants had finally taken root- wait until he sees how successful it's been!
It couldn't be long now.

But days stretched into nights, then weeks, then months with it's vacant black skies without even the slightest encouraging tint of orange.
Maybe he would never come back.
The mantis slipped down from the pile, slowly finding their way back into the society that once ostracized them so deeply. They're movements were slower now, more calculated, and their colors more muted. A faint air of disappointment still hung closely around them, but the colony was well accustomed to such things.
Longing still clung tightly to their chest, wrapping itself around every thought as they stole glances at the empty sky. But he was far away, now, and there was always work to be done. They hardly had the energy to fight it.

[wibeke]

"Blue! Blue!"
The kalon's voice was hoarse from screaming. Metal legs clanged against the hardened ground as he bolted back and forth, sharpened claws digging into pieces of scrap as he clamored desperately about. They had to be here somewhere. They were always there. "Blue..." he panted, giving a last fleeting glance at the landscape.
He had to warn them. The entire planet was in danger, threatened by a war that not a single mantis had consented to. Blue was in danger.

But the mantis was nowhere to be found. He would search every inch of the planet if that is what it would take, but he was rapidly running out of time. There were going to be here any minute. They would come and then all of them would be dead.
"Blue! Please! I'm so sorry I'm so late but... but I need you to listen to me! Blue..." his shouts fell upon death ears. If there was another mantis to listen, they would hardly have registered that he was even speaking. "I'm sorry..."

The cyborg found their way towards the inhabited side of the colony. It was an area he had never seen for himself, though Blues vivid descriptions made him feel as if he had visited before.

It was too late. There were ships beginning to descend on all sides. Some travelled in vehicles he recognized, those of his own fleet that would soon realize he had deserted. others were more grotesque in form, built from machinery he had never understood nor seen up close. The aliens had arrived, bringing with them an arsenal unlike anything he had ever seen.

In their whirlwind of war games and bravado it was so easy easy to get caught up in the conquest. They fixed mechanical eyes so closely on the ensuing battle and a triumphant victory over their alien adversaries that every life was little more than a small inconvenience. Soldiers were always replaceable and never in short supply. They stopped having names or families or lives of their own long ago, reduced to statistics and strategies that would never weep for their loss.
It was easier still to destroy a species. They were feral, after all, no more than a group of discarded strays that no longer served any purpose. They were hardly worth protecting in the grand scheme of things, surely the world would not miss them when they're gone.

They had to be here.
He had checked everywhere else, scanning every surface with the radar of his ship. If there was a lone mantis hiding away, far from the small den and scattered collection of mechanical trinkets piled high around it, he would have found it. But the colony shied away from it, the wild territory only claimed by one brave mantis.
Now, even they were gone.
It left only the colony, in their busting mass of shining colors and routines choreographed as intricately as the most elegant dances. It was no wonder to the cyborg that Blue found this world so overwhelming.
"Blue!" he called again, the sound only attracting the occasional ear flick from passing kalons or a momentary lapse in attention before each one immediately immersed itself in their task once more. The sound was as insignificant as a slight breeze or a the call of a distant bird. Without the knowledge to even recognize the sound as a language, they were of no help to the frantic kalon.
The kalon sighed, making his way out from behind the pile he had hidden behind.
The colony ground to a halt, each 5 eyed head shifting their gazes towards the unfamiliar sight. They had never seen anything quite so strange before, so strangely familiar and yet entirely foreign in it's robotic pieces and massive size.
Nico sighed. He remembered the face so clearly, a fond memory amid the haze of pain and terror of that first encounter.
And yet their face was nowhere among them.


The mantis sat deep within the mine, idly picking at a delicate device wedged into a barricade of refuse. perhaps it was an old clock, filled with gears and springs and all manner contraptions to tinker with, or perhaps it was a deceptively appealing piece of scrap. The question hardly phased them. It was a dreadful pass time, here in the darkened and lonely caverns, but they didn't particularly mind. The world seemed drained of color, almost, robbed of its great excitement. Even the stares seemed to drift right off of them now, they couldn't find it within themselves to be upset at the other's vile colors and disgusted emotions.
The glow of orange red reflected on the walls of the cavern, an echo of a nearby kalon. Their body tensed, small paws ready to take on whatever aggressor had prompted such a vibrant hue from the fellow mantis. even now, exhausted beyond all measure, they were determined to survive. If Nico was to ever return, and he would return, of that much they were sure; then they would be alive to greet him.
Their posture softened slightly, an entirely new demeanor gracing their small features. aggressor... cyborg.

Nico!


They were running almost before the thought had fully formed itself, brushing past the mantis who had alerted them and launching themselves into the world above.
They caught sight of him instantly. He was an unmistakeable sight, towering above even the largest of the colony. They were elated, propelling themselves towards him. Until suddenly they were skidding to a stop, searching his face for even the slightest hint that he shared their excitement.
But the kalon only looked scared. A brief moment of recognition set his face alight with joy, but the same frantic expression son resumed. His chest was heaving with a wild look in his eyes and mantises surrounding him. It was sight unlike anything Blue had ever seen. They stared back at him, eyes widened in confusion. Why wasn't he happy, did they do something wrong?
"Blue," he panted, taking a step forward, "Blue... they're coming, the armies are coming and they're going to hurt you, they're going to fight and... they won't care who gets in their way. I need your help," he pleaded, his words rushed and blended together until Blue could hardly make out what he had to say.
Blue could only nod gently, eyes still transfixed on the cyborg.
"I'm so sorry, Blue. If I... I should've..." his mumbling apology trailed away, his voice picking up again with a new sense of determination. "Tell them what's going on, get everyone as far underground as you can and stay there." he instructed. "Don't come out until i tell you it's safe."
Come with us." they flashed, pleading. Please.

His demeanor softened again, a hint of the kind kalon they were so used to resurfacing once more. He was welcoming and warm, so clearly happy to see the mantis after such a long absence. He looked so tired, they realized, as they approached. The care free kalon was gone; leaving behind a kalon that seemed to buckle under the weight of the terrible knowledge they had been confronted with. They only wanted to hug him, tell the stories of their day in those bright colors that he adored so much. They needed just one moment of reprieve in this increasingly chaotic world.
"Now!" he snarled, stopping the mantis in their tracks. They allowed their body to be overtaken by a soft hue of orange for a moment as the longing in their chest bubbled to the surface before being forced away once again.

They spun on their heels, turning to face the gathered colony.
Their colors flashed brighter than they ever had before, each shining hue pulling the eyes of each kalon towards them. They were focused intently on the little blue kalon now, not out of mocking but in silent reverence as they hung on each instruction. They wove a perfect web of calm and fear, expertly moving each mantis towards cooperation as the gravity of the situation sank in. No kalon dared question. None bared the putrid yellow hues that they had grown to expect of each interaction.
They stepped forward to lead the colony into the relative safety of the tunnels, pausing only a moment to glance back at Nico.
stay safe
"I promise."


The colony hurried after the blue kalon, huddling close to each other. Some shared gentle reassurances to to others, others created a dull buzz of concern rippling beneath the powerful emotions emitted by their unlikely leader. Amid the chaos their eyes remained anchored on fully on them, anxiously awaiting their next instruction.
Recognition grew within the crowd as they examined the mantis. The blue fur and spotted tail became so terribly familiar, suddenly pulled into focus after so many years of isolation, huddling on the outskirts of the territory
This strange, silent constant presence was brought into such uncomfortable focus now, a remainder of their past cruelty.
It could only be them, that poor creature that always shined too brightly and felt too intensely. No other could have been seen from so far, or projected their emotions so powerfully to guide so many.
They had driven the kalon away. And yet, here they were, saving the colony that had given them no reason to be protected or cared for.

Blue charged forward, leading the kalons deep within the network of caves. The maze of tunnels were carved by generations of mantises before them as they were driven deeper and deeper into its core, digging out clusters of burrowing insects and anything else that could possibly be of value.
They had grown very familiar with the caverns, knowing which out of the way ones were never travelled and which ones would pull them furthest from the center of the colony's territory- soon to be the center of the battle. It was strange to lead so many to it, it felt like they were betraying their secret hiding places. But here they could, hopefully, be safe.

They found their way to the end of the tunnel, secluded away from the surface of the doomed planet.

Blue pushed their way back through the crowd, finding their way back into the very tunnels they had travelled through to seek refuge in. The others watched, confusion and concern pulsing through the colony as they watched the mantis hurry away. Suddenly the mantis, once so perfectly forgettable, drew admiration from all around them.
They didn't dare to follow, but none could bear the thought of losing the mantis that they had only just learned to understand. Their shells took on a new color, so far from that disgusted yellow, now warms ones of pinks and oranges. be safe, good luck, come back, their colors flashed on and on in a perfect mix of colors.
Blue smiled, watching the colors as they danced on the walls of the cave, growing fainter as they charged forward and their resolve grew stronger.
They weren't about to leave him. They couldn't, not now. Regardless of his stupid plan, no matter what he was about to do, they had to help in whatever way they could.

The cave had begun to shake.

They found their way through to the surface, the sky glowing bright orange in a strange and terrible way. They knew better, now, to ascribe any meaning to the strange colors that the machines emitted. There was no feeling of hope in those terrible, flaming beasts that lowered their way towards the planet. It was a beautiful color to them, once, when orange denoted the return of her only friend.
Now, it only brought fear and violence.
They could see him now, by the entrance of the cave framed in the lights in front of him.
"I told you to go!" he shouted, growling even as his face betrayed his relief. He ran forward, metal paws sweeping the tiny mantis into an embrace. They buried their face in his fur, as they so often did before. "I missed you so much," he mumbled through tears, pulling the mantis closer.
They wanted to stay there forever.
They knew that they couldn't. They pulled away, staring up at the cyborg once more. come with me they flashed, pleading. They knew that he wouldn't. He was too stubborn, too wrapped up in whatever horrible plan he was about to set in motion.
"you need to go back inside," he urged, "keep them safe, tell them they'll be okay. They'll listen to you, Blue, they need you" He was glancing frantically at the ships, now much too fast approaching.
I need you they flashed faintly, blinking tears from their eyes.
The kalon stared back, at a loss for words for a moment as they tried to process all that was going on. "It's... it's not safe down there. If they start fighting the whole planet could fall apart. I have to tell them, maybe... maybe the aliens will listen. I have to try, Blue..." he tried his hardest to explain, even the hurt expression on the mantis's face made his heart drop. "If I don't they could kill you, Blue. I... I have to try."
Please.

"Blue!"

The mantis could hardly think before the cyborg pounced, his massive body shielding theirs as the world turned an icey blue.
His body was shaking, kicking and twisted again in a way that reminded the mantis all too much of that first fateful meeting. He was on his side now, Blue perched helplessly at beside him as he continued to convulse. They tried to ignore the terrible burning scent that filled the air, and the strangely absent sound of the machines's hum. There was a figure approaching, but the terrified mantis cold hardly register it. His breathing turned ragged and forced, craning his neck to meet the eyes of the mantis once more.
"Blue, you have... have to go," he forced out between fleeting breathes, "now"
The mantis could only shake their head no in their state of shock. Their eyes flickered to the addly still limbs, then to the many lights that once lined the edges of the machines- there was nothing now, each one completely dimmed to black. The color of death.

"Please," he whispered.

The kalon only moved closer to him, placing a paw on their arm in much the same way as they did that first day- it all seemed so long ago, now. They were flashing in the muted pinks and blues that they had only shown to him, once, though they never told him the meaning.

Nico squinted, watching the pattern as he tried to brush away the pain of his failing body. It was growing fuzzy now, his sight fading as the the enhancements to his bran began to succumb alongside the rest.
I love you, he realized they said. Even in his blurry faded sight he could still make out the words, the ones that he had always wanted to say but never found the right moment.
"I... I love you too," he choked out, seized by another wave of pain.
Blue watched helplessly, tears stinging at their eyes wishing more than anything that they could help him. They were flashing encouragements and reassurances, telling him anything they could think to say. But they knew he couldn't see it, no matter how bright their colors grew.
They did they only thing they knew that they could, conjuring up every feeling of love and of warmth that they had ever felt. They pulled from ever memory, each night of feeling safe with their best friend by their side. It felt almost like a tortured wail, a momentous release of everything they had ever kept inside of them.
In every happy moment, every single memory of feeling free and confident and important, there was Nico by their side.
The cyborg's labored breathing began to slow, his face once wrenched in pain and fear softening. The cyborg looked stunned, then elated as the swirl of overwhelming emotion pulsed through him. "Blue!" he breathed, "is this... Is this how you feel about me? I..." his voice trailed off, caught in the strange blissful silence.
The mantis could only flash the same pattern as they grasped his arm in their paws, like they had so many months before.


I love you
I love you
I love you.


The approaching figure had stopped in it's tracks, watching as the scene unfolded. The ships had landed now, soldiers on both sides lining the perimeter but none daring to make a move.
The colony made their way from inside the tunnel. Their glowing eyes stared out, tentatively at first, before they began to gather, drifting through the quiet air. Even from within their refuge they felt the blast of heart wrenching emotion. They gathered to see their savior, their body still pressed into his as lie slowly began to drain from him.
They emitted a chorus of calming rays, each one working together to provide the solace they would provide for any of their own.

His chest rose and fell slower with each breath, weak coughs occasionally escaping his much too still body.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for... for everything, Blue. I love you..."
His body drew in another labored breath, and then he was gone, the smile never leaving his face.
The mantis' breathe caught in their throat. No they flashed, Nico...
A horrific feeling of sadness and anger roared out of the tiny kalon, taking root in every creature that surrounded them, feeling as if it would tear them apart at every seam.

The figure retreated silently, their weapon crashing to the ground as they made their way back to the alien's army. The ships were roaring to life again, though Blue hardly registered the commotion around them. They were rising into the sky again, their joyful orange glow feeling almost mocking now.
Nico had gotten his wish, the colony was safe. Blue was safe.

But they hardly felt like a hero.

[wibeke]

For the first time in 1,000 years, a peace talk began.
They were fumbling, awkward, and always bristling with thinly veiled anger. But they carried on, and that was enough. After 1,00 words of silence interspaced with threats, blood shed, and ever increasing hostility this strange new venture was a welcome one.


Their steps were halted and tentative, but both were driven forward by the scene they had witnessed that night.
The aliens were moved by what they felt, in the desperate calm and the broken scream of the the anguished mantis. The cyborgs stuck more closely to what they saw, unaffected by their powers but perplexed by the event nonetheless. It was strange to see another creature so affected by their wars, more so than the loss of their nameless soldiers.
It was time for a change. However small, however slow. Something needed to change.

A peace treaty was signed within the week, hotly debated each step of the way and promptly broken before new ones could be drafted once more in an ever constant cycle.

Only one clause was immediately accepted by both parties.
The colony was deemed a neutral land, never to allow a battle on its surface again. It was to become a trading post, if is inhabitants were to consent, allowing the cyborgs and aliens to exchange food and medicine for parts found within it's core.
Life would be kinder here, they declared, for a species that had suffered so much heartbreak under the strain of two warring races.

---

In the center of the colony stands a statue surrounded by a flourishing garden.
Sometimes, if you're lucky, you might catch sight of a bright blue kalon tinkering away at an intricate machine. The others- mantis, cyborgs, and aliens alike; speak of them as a great hero.
If you ask them they'll deny it, but they would be happy to tell you their stories or teach you their language. There's a sadness that hangs around them, one that you can feel in your chest and see in their wide eyes, but there's happiness there, too. They hold themselves with an air of quiet confidence, smiling brightly as thy weave their colorful tales.
Stay awhile and you'll hear the story of a cyborg named Nico.

[wibeke]

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All art, concept, design, and writing created by me
the kalon species and kalon lines belong to Karmel and wicced!witch