Lair of The Fixer

((Fine, fine, it’ll stay for the pleasure of reading old posts if you guys like.

Just don’t be surprised or angry at me if i change my mind about it someday, okay?))


((Unfortunately, I have lost interest in this blog.  No amount of haitus will help, either.  

Feel free to contact me on my main blog, though.))

((annnnd the pic by itself))

((annnnd the pic by itself))

Alone (OPEN RP)


Usually Felix would use the arcade hours to feed himself, since there would be a good supply of cy-bugs swarming to destroy the trigger-happy marines.  The noise of guns and screeching would easily fuel his bloodlust, sending him into a feeding frenzy.

But today was different.  The station was empty, and even those without a game were nowhere to be seen.  Perhaps it’s his presence that drove them into hiding.  He couldn’t really blame them.  He looked… well, he looked awful.  And unnerving.  Even characters he used to be friends with avoided him. Not that it bothered him too much.  It was safer that way.

His footsteps were the only sounds that echoed within the large station, his steps slow and careful, as if walking on ice.  He walked to the nearest empty bench out of many, hopping onto it rather sluggishly.  Tired as always.

"…" He looked up at the ceiling.  He sometimes forgets how high it was, and his tiny size made him feel like an ant.

”.. Big..” Once he stopped gaping at the ceiling, he lowered his head, gazing upon the rows of entrances that led to different games.  Different worlds.

"…Home." His world.  Gone.  A stabbing pain pierced his heart, guilt bleeding out of the wound.  He wonders if they hate him.  They probably do. 

"Ralph.. Gene….." He slumped back in his seat, his metal cap scratching against the bench which produced an awful sound.  He didn’t care.  

He soon feel into a deep sleep.

((meanwhile the voice in my head screams “this actually looks like fucking fix it felix wow”))

((meanwhile the voice in my head screams “this actually looks like fucking fix it felix wow”))

((as funny as this headcanon was

felixbug isn’t afraid of ducks anymore

he’s a liiiiiiiiittle more concerned with going full cy-bug than a tiny water fowl that could easily be a very quick treat))

Fixed to be broken


The fingers’ joints scrunched softly as their owner moved them all, one by one, checking whether the code treatment showed any inprovement on the corrupted limb.
Like electricity it gently sparked through the arm, a subtle pulse, a faint echo from the day that still rang in her memory with dazing might. A day she had never seen coming.

Not after the evening the train station awaited her with yawning emptiness, confused looks mocking the desperate wife in search for her husband. A husband that never came to their date.

A yellow gleam flickered in cracks penetrating the whole arm, veins of the interior blood stream, data being the fluid life. It resembled the thin valleys forming on an aging statue, that never grew tired of holding her head high. Sadly, her smile did not follow this mantra.
Two large scars stretched over her abdomen, skin wrinkled and of pale color, eternal reminder of his greeting gift.

And a single cut, deep, red and revealing a tiny speck of white from the teeth below, changed the flawless face of a once snarky yet strict leader into a fierce, and oddly grim picture.
The scars had appeared days after she had received the wounds from which they originated. Her right arm a mess with code made visible through splitted skin from holding her right arm into the buzzing saw maws of a cy-bug.
The cut on her lip from the crash, when she speeded right into the metal head of another metal insect.
And the scars on her belly from the swing he had performed when his other half took over his mind, swallowing his common sense and humanity for the blink of an eye, slicing through both armor and skin like a hot knife through butter.

It had been just like her wedding day. The programmed one. Just that this time, her husband, or what had become of him, had managed to actually hurt her. And she in turn…spared him.

"It messed with your program, Sarge. Took it as a missing piece in an already completed puzzle…or something along those lines. Basically, your code took whatever happened back there, as something of importance. Real importance, if you know what I mean."

Spears was pacing around as he tried to word what he had seen in the code room -for he was the one with the most coding knowledge- to the Sarge, who was absently grazing the arm through which her very being glimmered out, the cut on her lip making it look like she was always snarling a tiny tad on that side of the mouth.

"Is it permanent, marine?"
Her voice lacked any emotion. It was but a dull rill compared to her usually passionate, yet rigorous river of words. She didn’t look at the soldier. Never lifted her arms of that limb that looked so frail, about ready to crumble away, was still able to hold and fire a rifle. Even more so after Spears tweaked the sudden change in her code in the code room itself.
Tamora already knew the answer before he could speak it out loud.

"I’m ‘fraid it is, Sarge. It didn’t damage any original bits and bytes though. Just…a little cosmetical…uh…"

She moved the affected hand around, watching the 1s and 0s flash by through the vein-like flaws. The free hand, balled to a fist, resting at the abdomen scars.
-“You cut me open, handsome. In the true sense of the word.”-

"I wouldn’t call it that, sarge, bu—"

"Get me my rifle, soldier. I’m going out."
She got up, calmness personified, approaching the soldier who was baffled by her sudden change of motion. He didn’t think as he grabbed the rifle automatically, and handed it over to be firmly accepted by fingers looking as if they were torn between ingame graphic and raw data.
Something about the Sergeant’s whole demeanor…seemed off. Very off. Even more off than her code box, which was already chaotic looking compared to its former, pristine box form.

And without a further word, the rifle mounted, she left the shuttle, the marine’s base, and marched into the wasteland. Bug hunting after quitting time.

But the platoon remained in their base, following their leader’s orders.
They knew he was out there, but a monstrous shadow of his original self. But they were not allowed to take him out of his misery.

She forbade it.

Both as an experienced bug hunter, who knew that even the marines would have to deal with huge loss should they go after him.

And as a wife, who held tight to her broken past, not willing to let go from the one thing that made her smile.

Fixed to be broken.
Broken to be fixed.
To be broken once more.

((still deleting posts cuz i ooc post wayyyyyy too much))

((hey peeps~))

((WHELP, i cleaned up my other rp blog

now it’s this ones turn

oh, that’s a lot of OOC posts))


For weeks, he hasn’t been seen or heard.  The air was absent of the familiar human/cybrid cries that filled it almost everyday, during game hours or not. His existence was no longer a secret.  Traveling alongside the swarm, he took many lives to satisfy his never-ending hunger and bloodlust.  They all recognized him.  But why not kill him?  Seek out his lair and terminate the monster while he sleeps?  Perhaps they can’t bring themselves to do it?  Or was it simply a strict order from the Sarge to spare him?  



Within a certain cave, a transformation was taking place.  Perhaps the reason why he hasn’t been sighted on the ground or in the skies.


The sounds were coming from a single source, past the entrance and down the dark path.

He was going through a change.

Finally, the path ends in a huge cavern, where dead center laid a chrysalis. It’s exterior resembled to that of a cy-bug’s egg, yet irregular in shape.  Within, a dim light showed a figure inside.  Insectoid in appearance, yet the head was different.  Almost… human-like.


A sharpened appendage bursted through, reaching high into the air, breaking more of the protective casing as it thrashed about.  It was long before its twin broke through.  Then the legs were freed.  One by one, they aided in the demolishment of the cocoon. 


He broke free.  Pieces of his chrysalis flying in different directions, large enough to crush a human.  The creature that rested inside was confused and dazed, but not injured.  The light that was shining before shone even brighter than ever.


His eyes were different than before.  One appeared to be more insect-like than the other, yet even that one was far from human.   Yet that was the least noticeable thing about his change.  Though smaller, his entire body looked much sleeker.  The lights that ran along his abdomen were merged into one at the end of his new one.  


He tried to speak, but it was tough.  His voice was still the same, but with a deeper-toned and mechanical-like voice added to make it sound as if two were speaking at once.  



One of his eyes responded to the sudden thought, rotating its three pupils whike the other darted around.  As if to find something.  And fast.


The light in the cavern suddenly faded, following the creature’s quick movements through the tunnel.  He was starving.  Trapped for too long.  


He didn’t want to rest.  He didn’t question his transformation.  All he wanted was one thing…


"… FOOD."






((im not even that active yet im getting followers what is happening))