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About Varied / Hobbyist Jared Fisher27/Male/United States Group :iconthehollowworldenigma: TheHollowWorldEnigma
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HWE: Doctor Allison Gaither
Name: Doctor Allison Miranda Gaither
Aliases: Doctor Gaither, Al (by Frank), Gator (by Vita)
Species: Human
Age:  29-(2033, Grorn's discovery), 31-(2035, Chicago Incident)
Alignment: Neutral Good
Occupation:  Field Enigmologist, Enigma Analyst (Post-Chicago Incident)
Related Mecha & Kaiju:  None
Height: 5'6"
Weight: Rude!
-Smart Glasses: Allison's glasses do more than aid her farsightedness, they also provide computational assistance while out in the field thanks to a satellite uplink.
Dedication: Allison has an unusually strong work ethic, though many have referred to it as work hard-assery. She is keenly focused and able to complete many tasks in a fraction of the time one usually could. It makes her a bit difficult to work with, not everyone can keep up with her and she doesn't enjoy slowing down, but it allowed her to graduate her advanced collegiate studies in 1/2 of the projected time and made he
:iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 2 1
Fathom: Size Chart 1 by Vagrant-Verse Fathom: Size Chart 1 :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 22 6 Art Trade: HWE Maera by Vagrant-Verse Art Trade: HWE Maera :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 20 3 Fathom Mecha File 002: Rigel by Vagrant-Verse Fathom Mecha File 002: Rigel :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 20 5 Fathom File 005.3: Amminot Brasqa by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 005.3: Amminot Brasqa :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 21 9 Secret Summer Santa 2k17 by Vagrant-Verse Secret Summer Santa 2k17 :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 18 1 Fathom File 013: Stormback by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 013: Stormback :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 35 7 HWE Giganuuk Saga - Part 1 An UNDERstanding by Vagrant-Verse
Mature content
HWE Giganuuk Saga - Part 1 An UNDERstanding :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 12 3
Fathom File 012: Entch by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 012: Entch :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 29 7 Fathom File 006.1: Grorn (Midgard Form) by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 006.1: Grorn (Midgard Form) :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 30 11 Fathom File 011: Verminator by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 011: Verminator :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 23 10 Fathom Mecha File 001: Unuk by Vagrant-Verse Fathom Mecha File 001: Unuk :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 31 5 Fathom File 010: Nemene by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 010: Nemene :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 21 11 Fathom File 009: Doradon by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 009: Doradon :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 23 3 Fathom File 008: T'zakka by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 008: T'zakka :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 31 7 Fathom File 007: Takraw by Vagrant-Verse Fathom File 007: Takraw :iconvagrant-verse:Vagrant-Verse 24 11

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What Kaiju Are You Contest - Announcement
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You can check it out here:
A little reminder for those interested in the "What Kaiju Are You?" contest. The deadline for entry (results) is this Friday May 1st. They will not be accepted after that. The Traits Key will be revealed May 2nd. So consider this a last roll call of sorts if you are interested and haven't noted me the results yet!

Current Entrants:
:iconrendragonclaw:RenDragonClaw 5 48




Name: Doctor Allison Miranda Gaither

Aliases: Doctor Gaither, Al (by Frank), Gator (by Vita)

Species: Human

Age:  29-(2033, Grorn's discovery), 31-(2035, Chicago Incident)

Alignment: Neutral Good

Occupation:  Field Enigmologist, Enigma Analyst (Post-Chicago Incident)

Related Mecha & Kaiju:  None


Height: 5'6"

Weight: Rude!


-Smart Glasses: Allison's glasses do more than aid her farsightedness, they also provide computational assistance while out in the field thanks to a satellite uplink.


Dedication: Allison has an unusually strong work ethic, though many have referred to it as work hard-assery. She is keenly focused and able to complete many tasks in a fraction of the time one usually could. It makes her a bit difficult to work with, not everyone can keep up with her and she doesn't enjoy slowing down, but it allowed her to graduate her advanced collegiate studies in 1/2 of the projected time and made her a highly useful field worker for UNDER. She studies all possible angles within reach and often considers possibilities most researchers won't, which is why she does so well in a field that often defies normalcy.

Doctorate in Enigma Studies: One of the first full fledged graduates of this new field, Allison is as close to an expert on the properties of this impossible substance as it gets.


Zero Tolerance Policy: Though it has softened in recent years, Allison was infamous as an 'ice queen' for many years at work, known for her brusque refusal to work with anyone that couldn't keep up with her processing speed. This was not out of dislike for the person in question, rather an enforcement of her own workaholic nature failing to see the logic in slowing down to explain something she finds simple to someone else.  

Love/Hate Relationships: Allison is a woman of many contradictions. She loves Enigma studies but hates getting into the range of a kaiju or any sort of mutated organism, where the substance can usually be found. She loves being able to work at her own speed but also hates working alone. This makes her seem moody and difficult to get along with, and it often takes a great deal of effort and energy to get her to lighten up around someone. Energy she would usually rather focus elsewhere.

Workaholic: Allison's dedication is often taken too far, working far past healthy limits and forgoing things like food and sleep in pursuit of desired answers.

Kaijuphobia: After several near death experiences at the claws of kaiju, such as Phadron and the Wendigo, Allison has developed an intense fear of getting anywhere close to a kaiju again. She keeps this fact to herself, with only Paul and Horvath knowing, though largely not by choice. Nightmares have been less intense since taking advice from Paul. This fear also extends to others, people she knows can often tell if she cares about them by how much she reacts to hearing they're going into kaiju territory. She has been seeking therapy for this since the Wendigo attack, and has been achieving some positive results.

High blood pressure: A genetic issue she is medicating for, Allison has a family history of heart problems. Stresses from work have not helped this, but in later years she would begin to seek remedies and achieved a healthier state of mind and body.

Farsighted: Allison requires corrective lenses to see clearly, a consequence of long hours of overuse studying and working. She doesn't really feel bothered by it, but wearing contacts is a nonstarter for her unless absolutely necessary.

Personality: Allison is, in a word, brusque. She is highly self-motivated, driven by a deep seated desire to understand the weird new world around her. But she often gets bogged down by her own tendencies to overthink and overwork, combined with a complete lack of ability to separate work and play. And, as a coup de grace, she has a tendency to vent her frustrations out onto others, no matter how deserving of it they may or may not be.

She was primarily raised by a single, blue collar father who both praised her academic prowess and never challenged her anti-social behavior, her capacity for emotional depth and sharing said depth are both in need of work. As such, she's developed a reputation of sorts among co-workers as a defense mechanism-laden ice queen. This is furthered by her lack of patience for having to explain things more than once. When working, she feels the need to be at her best, and if another is incapable of matching said best, then they are better off apart.

But in reality, as her continued working relationship with her complete opposite platonic soulmate Frank Womack demonstrates, there is much more to her than meets the eye.

Introverted and possessing a well honed wit, Allison is usually found by herself when she has the option, whether that's in a lab or out in the field. That said, her reputation often leaves her alone even when she doesn't want to be, and despite her best efforts to conceal, that hurts her a lot. She does, deep down, enjoy people. Meeting and befriending them can come quite naturally, she just lacks patience for coddling them and has no desire to teach.

Fortunately, recent years have been kinder to her, a new job with much people that operate at her level and a less stressful environment have worked wonders on her, and now she is known to smile and laugh far more often than before and has quite a few people she can call a friend.

All this said, she is still a pragmatic introvert, preferring comfy clothes with form taking a back seat to function. Her lab coat is a frequent mainstay of her wardrobe, but underneath is usually a modest tank top, loose-waisted khakis and, if she can get away with it, open toed shoes or even slippers. Also, when fully relaxed, you see that deep down she is an enormous dork with a surprisingly in-depth knowledge of several 'geek' fields, though she rarely speaks out about this, as Frank would then learn, and then EVERYONE would.

History: Allison Gaither was born in a small South Carolina town in 2004, growing up in a small farmhouse with a large amount of acres. Her father, Roger Gaither, was a quintessential salt of the earth type, working at a small local factory as a maintenance man. Her mother, Terri Leeds, an american literature professor at the local college that dreamed of more than the small town she was ‘trapped’ in, played a minuscule part of her upbringing, sending money and the occasional birthday card every 3 years or so, rarely close to her actual birthday. She never learned their story from her father, and rarely broached the subject. It didn’t take much to know it was painful for him.

    Her father tried his best to raise her alone, playing the role of emotional support and authority figure surprisingly well when it counted. But frequently having to work overtime hours meant he could only do so much. At first she was an outgoing child, playing out in the massive backyard and catching bugs in mason jars, but after she started schooling, where she was bullied for her lack of ‘traditionally feminine attributes’, she retreated inward. She began reading every book she could find, and learned things far beyond her level at a speed that, had she the confidence to speak up when young, might have allowed her to skip grades. Her teen years were slightly kinder, making a small handful of friends and learning to help her father around the house made them closer too.

Then her life took a turn for the worse. Her father was in a terrible accident at work when she was 18. Enigma technology had entered the playing field of the workforce, and the company he worked for had replaced their old parts with new enigma powered ones to keep up with the competition. Her father researched and learned with the best of them, becoming a qualified enigma engineer and keeping his old job, but that didn't change the simple truth. Enigma, brand new to the world then, was nigh impossible to predict. There was a reaction at the factory, cause unknown. A small fire broke out while he was inside of the power cell, attempting to make repairs. His body was horribly burned, and despite the best efforts of medical professionals, he died within a week. It was this event that led her down the path of studying enigma for a living, to prevent this from ever happening to someone else.

Years passed like a blur. Allison entered university, putting her fierce intelligence to good use and never stopping to look up and watch the world change around her. She graduated with honors, eventually becoming a full fledged Enigmologist, one of the first generation of graduates in the field. She made no friends at this time, but attracted a fair bit of attention in the academic world for her thesis about enigma effects on topsoil microbiomes. Many wondered what this reclusive wunderkind would do once finished with her studies, but in the end her career move surprised every one of them.

She could have worked for anyone she wanted in the industry, massive companies practically begged to have her on payroll, but she instead chose to work for the humble, underfunded american government bureau, the Unified National Department of Enigma Research. UNDER for short. Once there, she got to business immediately, developing a reputation as their toughest, and least personable, employee. She would go after any potential enigma startup with a merciless zeal, finding every possible reason to prevent them from building another refinery or harvest from a particular place, often drawing many complaints, most notably at the co-workers that were required to work with her. To say she was unpopular was an understatement, but after school, nothing about that phased her. Many rumors about her went around, from her dead parents to even tall tales about her sexual preferences making her so difficult. None of this phased her.

Of course, one rule of working in UNDER vexed her greatly. To reduce risk of mistakes, any evaluating agent cannot work alone. The problem was, no one in the department was half as qualified as she was, and she made sure they knew that. She had no patience for the inexperienced, which felt like she was teaching an intern rather than working with a colleague. Until, that is, a fated encounter happened one day outside of Detroit, when a colorful RV pulled up at the site she was working at, and openly corrected an assessment she was doing with details even she had failed to consider. Frank Womack, an intellectual equal but exact opposite in near every other way, entered her life. He was hired on at her recommendation.

Their service together in UNDER lasted the better part of five years, Frank more than capable of matching her wit but often going so far beyond her into unnecessary territory that it created a whole new kind of stress she didn't know she could experience. But even their tenure came to an end. Right as another event began.

History likes to give the first kaiju discovery to Kyra Scott. But few know that the first unconfirmed sighting belonged to her and Frank, who witnessed the awakening of Grorn in Miami days before Asag's immortalized rampage. Events after that were never quite the same, Frank growing ever more intense in his desire to understand kaiju while Allison just wanted to go back to what she had before. They temporarily separated after the events at the Hadron Collider, reuniting briefly for an expedition into Appalachia, which ended with Frank nearly killed and eaten by a wendigo and Allison so shaken she couldn't bring herself to even say goodbye as she left Frank behind in search of an escape. Then, of course, came Horvath, and everything changed again...


    "Welcome back, Hatchett!" Captain Horvath shouted, salty wind whipping at his thinning dark hair. The weather outside of Site Argus was clear, with blue skies and gulls cavorting about. A rare sight. "Not too bad a flight, using our multi-million dollar experimental aircraft just to pick up mail deliveries?" The red haired pilot lowered his shades as he advanced down the catwalk, Harpy engine settling down behind him, a wisecracking smile beginning to form.

    "You came out here just to see little old me?" Hatchett said, "Here I thought somebody died! Wait, nobody died, did they?" Horvath smirked just long enough to put the man on edge. 

"Why wouldn't I come out? The weather's fine! It's practically non-arctic out here! So, anything interesting from the mainland?" Hatchett shrugged, whipping out a selection of various envelopes and boxes. One in particular he held aloft. "You know," Hatchett started, "when I took this job, I never once imagined junk mail would follow me all the way out here, but wouldn't you know it? It has. Congratulations, Captain, you are officially a sweepstakes winner!" Horvath gasped, grabbing the envelope. "My favorite! You know me so well! Immah go frame this shit! They somehow even got my address!"

    "You might wanna wait on that for a second, Captain! I've got a big one back in the cab. And you'll never guess who its for!"

    Back in Horvath's office, the pair regarded the mystery package. A large cardboard box, way too big to have been cheap, with a simple name sloppily written in black sharpie. "Allison Gaither. Didn't even include the Doctor bit." Hatchett mumbled. Horvath gazed at the box, feeling a great deal of retroactive sympathy for Pandora. There was no return address, and it rattled around something fierce when shaken. It was as though every christmas he'd ever had were forgotten. 

    "She's on her way back from Borneo right now," Hatchett continued, "Should be back soon. Want me to take it to her room?" Horvath continued to stare silently.

    "Whatcha thinking, Captain?" Hatchett inquired. Horvath stroked his scarred chin, false eye flashing. "You know, it's funny. Despite all of my valiant efforts, I know little more about our good Doctor than what can be found on paper. I have facts and figures concerning her life and history, but little else. Do you know how much that vexes a man like me?"

"A great deal, I'd wager." Hatchett said, nudging and winking. Horvath cleared his throat and said, "Well, considering how little we know, and the mysterious circumstances of this box's arrival and lack of guarantees about its safety, I suppose we have no choice but to... inspect it. It might be a bomb or anthrax or something! I don't want Doctor Gaither's life on my hands because of some silly notions of privacy!"

    "Yes, anthrax. We have to check for that." Nodding in tandem, Horvath whipped out a knife and slowly reached for the box, prepared to sate his curiosity. As the tip of the blade made contact, the door swung open.

    "Horvath, have you see-" came the voice of Lieutenant Vita Wells, who took one look at the situation and knew exactly what was happening. Her eyebrows dropped an inch.

"Tell me that package is yours."

    "Well," Horvath said, rolling his good eye, "Technically this whole platform is mine, so..."
"Give it to me." Vita demanded. Horvath, knowing a lost battle, relented and stepped back. The lieutenant, barely able to see over the top of the large box, lifted it up with ease, checking the name. "You're going through Gator's mail now? What did she do, take the last clean bowl at breakfast?"

"Actually, Odd did that," Horvath said, "She's going through a phase." The attempt at humor did not dampen his second in command's baleful glare. Without a word, she hoisted up the package and headed to the door, shutting it with her foot. Left alone, the pair glanced at each other.
    "Wanna go through everyone else's mail instead?"

"God yes."


Vita made her way half-blindly down the winding, clear walled corridors of Site Argus, face warmly lit by the bright sun outside, filling her with energy. The package was large and unwieldy, covered in different kinds of packing tape, and clattered like broken glass with every step. It was so large she had to stop and swerve around anyone headed the opposite way, turning each encounter into a large, awkward ordeal.

    "Gator I swear if there's something stupid and pointless in here..." she growled after the ninth such pass. Rounding another corner and heading into the residential ward of the complex, she nearly bumped into a familiar, well-aged face. 
    "Dear me, my apologies, Mistress Wells," came the sonorous voice of Oliver as he jumped backwards out of her way. She only grunted in assent as she stepped past him into the first common area, which resembled a fountain lobby you'd find in any average midwestern shopping mall. She hated how that pious old man referred to her, but she had learned over the last several months that there was no talking him out of his honorific way of speaking. And unlike most people who broke her rule, he could actually defend himself.
    "Are you faring well? That parcel seems rather unwieldy," the old knight said, turning around and pacing behind her. Looking back, she could see the man was shirtless, and his impossibly shredded abs were at eye level. Normally a cause for delight, this only made her uncomfortable.

    "I'm busy, Oliver," Vita huffed as she continued, but Oliver followed behind like an anxious parent waiting for their child to drop their ice cream. "Why are you following me?"
    "I was going to inquire about something once you were finished carrying that," Oliver explained. "But it can wait until you are finished. Would it go faster if I carried it?"

    "Okay," Vita said, dropping the package flat onto the floor and turning around, "You clearly don't know a sign when you see one, old man. Does it look like I'm having a hard time? And why are you walking around half naked?" This last statement came out without a thought. Oliver had clearly been training, his long silver hair was tied back and his only attire was a pair of athletic shorts and a damp towel around his neck. To her frustration, even his sweat smelled incredible.

    "I... may require your aid, Mistress Wells. I'm afraid I am locked out of my quarters again." Vita sighed long and hard, everything starting to make sense. 
"I've told you, its biometric, you old fart," Vita grumbled. "Just put your hand on the knob."

"I have. It did not work. The machinery of this time is... fascinating, to say the least. If you could aid me, I would be forever in your debt." The sequel to Vita's sigh was even longer than the first. "Can't you ask anyone else? Horvath is-"

"Not answering me at the moment," Oliver interrupted. "Master Paul is away, taking part in the Chicago search and rescue operations with Lady Morowitz, Master Frank is nowhere to be found, and Master Friesen is at his cousin's wedding ceremony. You are my final hope." Vita went silent, face twisting in barely contained frustration. Reaching down and grabbing the package, she motioned for Oliver to go. "If you just used the wrong hand again, I will find a way to end you." She mumbled.

    Turns out, there was a serious glitch in the coding of Oliver's doorway. It took hours of oversight, even a visit from Head Engineer Dino Laramie, to get it working again. All to Vita's ever growing chagrin.

    "Is there anything else, Oliver?" she politely inquired with her bright teeth bared. The old knight shook his head, stepping inside. Moments later, he emerged in plain civilian clothing. "Much better," he said. "Now I must abscond to the kitchens, this business has left me in need of a morsel or two. A thousand thanks!"

Vita couldn't bring herself to say anything out loud, at risk of trying to kill an unkillable man. "He... just wanted to change clothes? That's fucking..." she mumbled as she stepped back over to the package. Her frustrations were boiling, and the package, as close to a source for it as she was gonna get, was starting to look mighty tempting. "Its probably just some of her old files or some shit... but I dunno. Maybe..." she said as she glanced slyly around. "Dammit, after all this, I need something to make up for it. I'll just drop it off in her room after I check. I'll just say Frank did it. Or Odd. This is research! I don't know that much about Gator besides what she's told me!"

    "And what have I told you?" Came a brusque voice behind her. Vita nearly jumped, in all of her frustration she hadn't taken into account what time it was. Allison had returned. "Heh, yo Gator..." Vita started, "How was Borneo? See anything?"

"It was riveting, Vita. I felt like I was back at work again, doing what I love in relative safety, putting that doctorate to good use. But, riveting as it was, its not nearly as riveting as what I heard come out of your mouth just now." Without a word, Allison grabbed the package, Vita nearly reaching to take it back on impulse. Allison's eyes brightened in recognition as she hoisted it up, but the expression quickly faded as she turned around and scurried off down the hall without a word.

    "Come on Gator, I've had a long day! What's in the box?" Vita shouted after her. Allison did not look back as she responded. "Oh no, this is for my eyes only! And after this, it's probably gonna stay that way! I would expect this kind of breach of privacy from the captain, but from you? For shame. Later, Vita." 
The Lieutenant, left alone, decided to forego her plans and head to the gym. She needed something to stab.


    Allison shut the door of her room behind her, locking it firmly and propping it with a chair. After that stunt earlier, she doubted anyone would have pure intentions coming to her now. 

    "Dammit, it was supposed to come next week..." the scientist muttered, eyeing the box. "Stupid Liz... I had no time to prepare, and they nearly saw. Ah well, at least I have something to do tonight." Sitting down on her knees after retrieving a pair of scissors, she deftly sliced open the top of the box. A familiar, musty smell wafted out, bringing back memories of a completely different time of her life. She glanced down into the container, a rare smile creeping on her tired face. "Hello again, old friend."

    "Whatcha got Al?" Came the familiar voice of Frank, slipping out from under her bedsheets and surprising her enough to scream. Jumping back and flailing, Allison knocked over the package, spilling out its content. She stared at her former partner, brown hair askew and drool on his cheek. 

    "H-how... Frank... WHY?" was the best she could stammer out. Stretching, he stepped out of bed, prosthetic leg glowing. She glanced down at the new appendage in shock, anger beginning to fade at the sight. "W-hen did..."

    "Awesome, isn't it?" her former partner goaded, lifting the false limb up and wiggling it about. "I just got back with it two days ago. It works like a dream. I heard you were coming back today and waited here to surprise you with it, and I... guess I fell asleep. In your bed. And made a mess of the place." Smiling sheepishly, Frank put a hand to the back of his head. "Sorry about that, Al. We've only been back together for a couple of months and I'm already screwing things up again."

    "N-no, it's okay." Allison sighed, a smile starting to show. "It looks nice. I can see why you wanted to surprise me. Now if you don't mind can you-" 

"Whoa, what is THIS?" Allison's face went deathly pale. Looking down, she could see that her earlier outburst had knocked over the box, and to her horror the contents had spilled out. All of them.

    "Is... this... a PS3?" Frank said, eyes glowing as he lifted an archaic piece of black plastic up to eye level. "Dude, I haven't seen one of these since I was a wee bairn. Vintage! And so many games! Are these yours????"

    "" Her brain was reeling at a million miles a second. He'd seen them. He'd seen all of them. There was no going back. Her life and credibility were over. She'd never hear the end of it now. She could already hear Horvath's mocking words. Her senses returned as she saw Frank sitting down on the warm carpet, rifling through the things and stacking them up.

    "Don't!" Allison shouted as she reached down, taking the device out of her old partner's grasp and clutching it close. Frank eyed her like a confused puppy. "I'm just stacking them all up, Al. I'm not gonna hurt anything."

"This stuff is twenty years old, Frank, you can't just-"

    "So it IS yours! Wow, I am seeing you in a whole new light, Al!" Her face turned beet red at his words. Looking away, she stammered out, "Y-yeah, well what of it? I can be interested in other things."

    "I wish you'd told me earlier! This opens up at least, like, thirteen other avenues of discussion between us!"

"That's precisely why I didn't, FRANK. You'd tell everyone and I'd never hear the end of it! Ever again!" Frank's confused face returned. "So?" he asked. "That's never bothered you before. Hipple, Al, this is very unlike you."

    "Its... my sister was holding on to it. Now that I have a more permanent home, she... said she was gonna send them to me. Taking up space in her attic. I don't really have a need for any of it, but... you know? I figured it wouldn't hurt to look through it before I threw it all out."
    "Why would you throw any of this out? It's fantastic!" Frank nodded, sticking his arm deeper into the box and pulling out a large black sweatshirt with N7 on it. "Yeesh, your sister really does not know how to pack things. Oh hey, Mass Effect! Nice! My parents wouldn't let me play that one as a kid 'cuz it had bisexuality in it. Shows what they knew, huh?"

Allison's guard softened slightly at how... open Frank was being. Not one of these objects, pieces of her old life, were things she wanted to show to most people. It was hard enough working in a world that didn't allow her the benefit of the doubt. "Well, I might keep some of it, now that I think about it. For nostalgia, you know? I can't be that bothered by it."

    "Right, of course. I... UNDERstand." Frank said with a sly wink. He reached deeper into the box. He pulled out a single game box which was still in the shrinkwrap. "Mass Effect Trilogy collection... Huh... I'm seeing a pattern here."

    "My mom got that for me when I was 10," Allison said with a laugh, taking it from Frank's hands. "She didn't know I already had all three. But what else is new, right?"

    "Which one in the series is Andromeda? I got to play that one a little in college. It was pretty fun!" Allison's face went deathly still as Frank's words sank in.

"Oh, you poor uninformed child..." she whispered. Without a word, she grabbed the game system and paced over to the TV on her dresser, cords dragging behind her. Several minutes of fumbling around followed. "You okay, Al?" Frank asked, standing to his new feet. "Need any help?"

    "The only one in need of help here is you, Frank." the scientist said as she leaned back, checking over her handiwork as the old system flared to life. "Yes, it works!" she softly cheered. 

    "Man, its so vintage looking it hurts!" Frank said as the old startup screen came up. "But why are you-?"

"Frank, I cannot in good conscience allow such a crime against humanity to go unanswered." She ripped open the wrap on the trilogy boxset, slipping the first disc inside. Frank tilted his head, looking back at the door. "I don't know what you mean, Al..."
   "Just shut up and grab the controller."

    "Whoa, this Rex guy is great! No match for the Rex we know, though!" Frank said as he fumbled through the controls, seated on the floor. The old playstation, despite years of wear and a severe need for cleaning, was running like a dream. Allison, sitting next to him, checked her watch and was shocked to see it was nearly midnight. "It's Wrex, Frank. With a 'W'. Try to be nice to him, the whole series sucks balls if you don't."

    "Geez, no pressure! How can I tell if he likes me or not! Old games don't have the kind of gauges we do now and he's so brusque!"

"You're doing fine, Frank. Its a shame my old laptop no longer works, its better on the PC. They couldn't patch Pinnacle Station into the PS version and 2's console controls were shit. Its almost disgusting, your first time is supposed to be special." 

    "Say what you will, Al, but I'm enjoying it! If you still want to get rid of this, I'll take it off your hands!" Allison laughed, longer and harder than she had in years. This drew another incredulous look from Frank. "You okay, Al?" he asked. Yawning, the smaller doctor rested her head on his shoulder, eyes drooping.

    "Just let me have this, Frank."

Important Dates:

March 15th, 2033: Grorn awakens, Allison and Frank are the only witnesses. She tries to forget it happened.

April 17th, 2034: The Hadron Collider Incident. Allison and Frank barely survive the arrival of Phadron, who is defeated by Grorn. She volunteers for desk work afterwards, surprising everyone.

October 26th-27th, 2034: Allison and Frank reunite for a peaceful assignment in remote Appalachia. Both are nearly killed by an outbreak of Windigo, Frank losing a leg to one of them, but were saved by the efforts of an ancient Cherokee god and a silver-maned man claiming to be a knight. Allison quits UNDER, leaving Frank in the hospital without a word. She returns to her hometown for a time, attempting to reconnect with her mother, but nothing comes of it.

January 22nd, 2035: Jameson Horvath finds Allison at home, and gives her an offer she does not refuse.

May 1st-2nd, 2035: The Chicago Incident. Allison largely played a supporting role in the crisis, providing valuable intel about the nature of the freak weather patterns and aiding the strike team in their survival against horrible odds. She and Frank reunited as well, and have started talking again.



HWE: Doctor Allison Gaither
The first of many human character files for HWE. Enjoy!
Art Trade: HWE Maera
My end of an art trade with the absolute delight that is Scatha-the-Worm

Hope you enjoy it!
Fathom Mecha File 002: Rigel
From the Files of Frank Womack, Kaiju Expert*

MECHA File #  002


Discovered: Site Naraka, Nepal

Noteworthy Jockey(s): Mavis Anderson (retired), Mel Nichols (deceased), Erica Goldwin (deceased), Joaquin Santos (retired), Paul Gregory (current)

Power Source: Ion Battery for Redundant and Diagnostic Systems Only, Neural Synaptic Connection required for Active Movement.  

Operation Protocols: 

    *Deployment Only Allowed by Vote within a Special UN Panel, Jockey's Consent also Required

    *Jockey's may Only be Deployed in Areas of no Personal Significance to Themselves or Loved Ones    

    *Deployment Time must not exceed 6 hours, Mandatory Rest Period of 3 Months Required after each Engagement
    *Minimize Damage to Surroundings and Self, but Sacrifice is not Forbidden

    *Remove the Offending Element(s) from the Field of Battle with Extreme Speed and Prejudice
    *O.R.A.I.N's Word is to be Taken Under Advisement, Not as a Direct Order

    *At least 2 Retainer Jockeys must be Fully Trained and Combat Ready at All Times

    *Jockey's must be of Exceptional Physical and Mental Health, Mandatory Psych Evaluations are to Take Place Weekly after every Sortie for 6 Months

Noteworthy Armaments:

Energy Drain: An understated ability technically not even classified as a weapon, Rigel has a large pointed apparatus hidden within its right arm composed of the same polymers as the rest of its body. During the first sortie against Stormback, however, it proved invaluable both as a piercing weapon and as a means of draining the organism of its vast energy reserves, forcing it to retreat. The AI warns against the misuse of this tool frequently, leading some to believe there is a hidden trait to it we have yet to learn.

-Self-Adaptive Matrix: The most remarkable of Rigel's many wondrous features, the mechanoid is capable of discerning, through O.R.A.I.N.'s diagnostic abilities, valuable technological advantages it does not yet possess, and somehow can assimilate these advantages into its own frame with no apparent change in total mass. Improvements that have been integrated include:

-Missile Launchers
-Compressor Drive
-Radar Jammer
-EMP Generator
-Cryogenic Processor
-Air Conditioning (At the Jockey's Request)

-Ion Cannon: The most commonly utilized armament in the Mecha's arsenal, Rigel's right arm contains a functional ion micro-reactor, which can channel and emit energy from outside sources or its own internal battery to devastating effect. The arm is capable of altering its shape and form to provide multiple types of energy attacks, from simple projectiles to continuous streams and everything in between. Few kaiju have shown the ability to shrug off these attacks, making them highly desirable early in a fight to wear them down. However, despite its many uses, it it the most demanding ability on the pilot by far, and should be used wisely. 

-Ion Blade: Instantly generated on the left forearm from the mecha's own internal power source, the ion blade is a close quarters weapon best suited to assist in grappling situations. Curved and sharp enough to cut at the cellular level, the weapon is highly versatile and can be used for almost every encounter, however, maintaining the blade is an egregious waste of energy and as such it should only be used in moments when it truly counts. Depending on needs, the blade can be weakened or strengthened, and in a pinch can even work as a suitable shield to energy and physical assaults. Famously utilized in the battle against the Syyd in Amsterdam.

-O.R.A.I.N: Rigel, built by ancient hands far more advanced than our own, is a highly efficient machine with seemingly endless energy. However, this is no simple thing to maintain. Its builders included a rudimentary Artificial Intelligence, dubbed the Offensive Repurposed Artificial Intelligence Network (Or O.R.A.I.N), within its matrix. Tasked with the upkeep of redundant and auxiliary systems, its actions allow the mech, which it views as it's body, to remain at peak efficiency. In combat, it is also useful for obtaining intelligence about the kaiju or rival mech it is battling, as well as details on the surrounding areas. Observations of its behavior have shown intelligence and self-awareness, preferring some jockeys over others and at times even revealing secrets it had willingly kept from the UN. It also has shown visible disdain at the thought of its own system diagnostics being used in the development of the U.N.O.S. mainframe.

 While Stormback continued its violent rampage north past the Mediterranean Sea, with cities in five countries already burning heaps and three kaiju already fallen, another event, equally wondrous and terrifying, was taking place halfway around the world. We all know how it turned out in the end, the shining 'angel' descending from the skies above Athens and the heated battle that ended with Stormback retreating back into the sea, but little is known about what led up to that point. And thankfully, I am here to provide.

First, you can't know the story of Rigel without knowing the story of the first person to 'jockey' the mechanical beast. Mavis Anderson is her name, and she is a delight to get to know. Her fighting days are beyond her now, the final battle against the Syyd left her with a severely atrophied right arm, but she can still tell the story of finding the machine, and through it her calling, as clearly as though she was still there. 

A burned out military veteran and survivor of the Umbara attacks, she sought solace in two things: Remote places at the edge of civilization, and physical activity most considered too extreme. When she could do both, she claimed, it was a release like no other. At the time of Stormback's rampage, she was in Bhutan, seeking peace and exploring the 'non-touristy' parts of the Himalayas. Against the advice of all she met, she decided to go out into the mountains without a guide, and in doing so accidentally stumbled upon one of the greatest discoveries in human history. Site Naraka, an ancient structure underneath the mountains constructed of materials not found on earth. Much like Site Xibalba in the Andes, the place was long abandoned, but completely intact. Though this one contained something no one could have been ready for. The entryway gave way to an enormous open space, inside which were numerous towering statue-like figures tethered to the walls. Most of them bore no resemblance to anything seen on earth and its enormous fossil record, but one did. And unlike the others, it had a single light on.

To this day she has no idea what compelled her to do what she did next. Using the climbing equipment she brought to scale peaks impassable to man, the made her way up the craggy cavern walls, spending hours finding a way up to the light, which turned out to be a doorway. Once inside, she was confronted with a most unexpected thing. A question. A voice, speaking perfect english, asked her a common riddle. The riddle of the sphinx, to be exact. And she answered correctly. From there began an unlikely relationship that still has more questions than answers, but one that humankind desperately needed. It is widely regarded as the beginning of the turning of the tide of the kaiju plague.

                                                                                                     I̸̜̬͇̲͎͎̞̼̻͇̮͇̼̩̪̦̫̤̲̬͍̰̠͋̅̈̓̒̌̾̈̾̋̌̌̎̐͋͒̊̅̒̕͘͜͝͠͝g̶̡͕̦̼̥̭̻͙̪͍͙̹̻̰͈͎̮̦̙̩̲͍͙̤͛̈́̽̀̃̔͑̓̏̎̓̇̆́̎̎̈́͋̂͘͘̚͝͠n̷̢̢̛̗͔̪̩̤̣̮͖̥̤͔͎̰͎̪̝̙̰̩̫͗̊̑͗͊́̋̉̀̏̈́̏͛̔̉͌͂̈́̍̉̉͘͜͝ͅǫ̵̛̱͉͖̯̮̯̖͚̟̙̳̻̰̣̦̱̤̰̮̭͐̌̑̃̈́͋͑̒̍̊̎̾͂̓́͆̿́̕̚͘͜͜͝͝ͅr̸̡̩̤̪̱̱̹̰̪͈͙̗͚̩̼̰̬͇͈̻̮͈͔̈̏́͐̒̑̾́̽̎̊̾̑̽̍̾̅̄͛͘̕͠͝͠ͅą̸̢̢̡̢̖̜̤̖̙̰̦͇̗̲̱̥̪͚̞̞̯̲̇̈́̓̊́͊̆̉̃̽̆̌̇͊̈͌̆̏̚̚͝͝͠͝ͅņ̸̛͓̼̻̗̤͙̖̘̼͉̬͚̙͈̙̪̘̭͔̟͖̘͋̀̀̾̌̀̋̉͌̑̇̒͂̑̃̽̍͋̆̓̚̕͜͠ç̴̧̖̹͖͙̞̫͍̼̞͙͙̭̖̥̳̠̥͙̙̰̺̂̄̈̀́̃̂̐̀͋͌̇̊̄͊̈́̓̍͘͘̕͠͠͠ͅę̷̢̧̡̛̛̝̙͎̱̫̝̟̩̬̪̥̻̺͕͙͖̻̜͍͌̋͋͗̐́̐̀̽̄́̌̂̅̄̍̏͋͛̄͘͘ͅ ̶̧̡̫̲̦̟̣͇͚̱̼̥̭̩̝̤̱̗͍̹͚̙̙͎̑͌͂̏̾̊̋͂̋̎̑̄̌̊̒̍͒̑̌͊͑̕̕͠i̴̡̨̥͕̪̗̜͖̗͙̻̤͎̟̩͖̞̗̩̲̥̠͎͆͊͛͊͋͋̀̐͊̅̓̂͒̈͌̈͒̏̊̍́̀̚͝ͅs̴̨̢̧̨̼̝̭̦̭͇̜̮̜̪̯͈͕͎̫̼̲̱̻̲͑̍̔̑͑̍̈́̽̈́̈̉̉́͌̓͂̀͑̿̿̎̓̕͠ ̶̨̛͕̱̩̙͉̠̪̟̬̪͉̣̹̙͇͚̻̣̫̯̞̹̉͊̉͛͊̏͛̐̓͂̐̔͗̍̓̊̄̂̈́̊̔͜͠͝b̴̢̨͖̩̼̩̤̘̭̪̪̞̤̞̼̜̬͕̻͇͉̘̫̂̽̂̅̓̇̉̉̀̇͐̃͌͂̋̽͊́̉̓͘͜͝͠͝l̸̨̛̬̪̩͚̳̤̜̠̣͚̪̝̖̙̲̤̼̺͓̞͓͒̿̄́͑̔̐̓̏͋̈́̓̍̈́̅̒̏̅̔́͌͊̚͜ͅĩ̵̢̠̬̪̞̹̜̘̼̲̟͙͓̣̣̦̜̱̤̫̗̱͉̌̆̒̄͗̃̊͐̄́̆̇̅̒̄̑̓̊̍̈́́̿͘͜s̴̨̨͍͔͉̪̬̹̟̗̥̳͈̘̝̝̙͙͇̤͈̫̝̤̀̈́͆̐̆͆̒͑̍̿͊͑̽̐͛̃͂̅͒̅͝͝͝͝s̴̛̯̮̰͎͚͓̳͖̖͎͓̱͔̬̝̮̰̻͎͔̤͍̜͆͑͊̐̃͆̅̈́̊̐̍̃̇͆̏̈́̍̃̾̊͠͝͠ͅ      

Rigel, and the AI that keeps it running, are still almost complete unknowns after all these years. The intelligence seems to either not recall its makers or simply chooses not to share details, and it refuses to answer any real questions about its inner workings. However, it is more than willing to utilize its prowess as a weapon for humankind, leading many to wonder exactly what its motivations are. Time will tell, I suppose, but I can't help but worry that we're just willingly walking into a trap. After all, its highly likely this was built by a species capable of interstellar travel thousands, maybe even millions, of years ago. Why leave such a capable weapon sitting around for anyone to find? How much does it have in common with its more destructive kin UNUK? What purpose do its silent 'brethren' back in the caverns hold? We're chimpanzees on typewriters, at best, dealing with these things.

Ḩ̴̡̢̢̟̰͕̪̤̳̹̣̫͓̮͖̲̲̰̪͇̖͓̠̮͖͙̱̮̗̀͑̅̽͋̾͂̂̃̔͗̆̆͂̍̋̈́̊̔̋̐̓̃͑̎̆̒̓͋͒͋̓̽͂̽͂̄̈́̆́̀̋̀͘͜͜͝͠ợ̶̡̢̨̼̠̖̺̩̼̦̜̤̜̰͕̗̺̯̪̫̖͓̮̦̞͓̭̲̱̯̬̠̥͓̯̭̪͎̪̗̜̹͌͊̏͐͆̎͋́̈̀͂̐̃̏̋́̈́̿͒̓͒̆̐͊̔̋͑͋̈́͂̓̄̉̑͛̿͆́̽́͑̒͆̐͊̚̚͜͜͝͝ͅw̵̢̨̢̛̯̰͍͚̭̫͍͈̳͈̠͕͈̳̭͇̟̪̲͉͍̞̘̺͍̳̰̯̩̯̩̠̩͛̃̈́̓̅̈́̆̅̊̈́͋̉̎͊̌́̓͑̿͂̔͑̃̀̕͘͝ ̵̢̧̨̧̨̛̱͕͎͍̘̠̘̙͔͇̝̝̻̹̮͔̹̳̳̬̭̻̥͙̫̖̖̞̱͕̥̙̬͈͙̻̙͔͓̹̠͍̩͓͔̻̲̖̠̮͎̾̌̉́̌̓̅̈͊̎̈́̀̆̿͛̅̇͒̈́͐̿́͗̀̉̀̑͋̏̕͝ͅľ̴̨̢̧̡̡̜͖̗̞̙̖̝̘̱̝̗̮̙͍̪̝̝̯͉̳̰͕͇̗͎̘̟͇͖̣̠̾̉̀̇̊̃̄͒̈̓̏́͑̽͂̀̉̐̾͊̑̏̄̄͐̑́̌̓͐̋̌̿̿̔͜͜͠͠͠͠͝͝ͅǐ̵̧̧̢͖̦͔͔̭̞͔̠̠͇̘̠̟̮̺͎͎̩̮͈̦̩̖̠̦͔̙̺͎̭̞̰̺͈̞͍̲̼̤̝̺̝̣̮͚̖͕̫́̀͋̈̐̐͗̏͐̈̀͐͆͛̓̇̈́͊́̊͒͐̄͘͘͜͜͜͝͠͝ͅͅt̸̢̡̛̜̪͔͚̲̤̻̲͚̤̱̩͈̰͖̹̺̹͎̜͙͓̫͙͉̹̫̼̜͇͕̖̼̻̟̟̥͔̭̲͖̩̫̽̅͐͒̍͑̾͊͊͛̅̓͗̇͂̃̊͗͑̀̔͑̇͂̍̂͒́̔̂̆̊̿̋͊̆͆̓̉̚̚͘͘͜͝ͅt̸̨̡̡̡̧̨̡͕̥͓͇̘͎̖͎̱̝̖̩̜͍͓͓̗̻̼̜̞̞̱̥͕̮̟̬̣̰̥̠͈̱̽̽̔̅́̀̈̉͑͗̽͊̇̒̈́̋̇̆̓́͑̽̈́̍͂̍̅̕͘͜͝ļ̸̮͈͉̹̮̖̘̬̱͔̬̙̣̜͎̤̗͈͍̭͉͙̳͍͆̐̄̀͂͒̉͐̈̃̓̑̋͆̓͋̽͌̓̊̓͐̂̚͘̚̚͜͜ͅȩ̴̡̡̨̛̻͈͉̠̤̻͔͖̼̻͙͉̺̩̩͚̻͍̱̗̩͍̼͕̰̲̗̬̬̝̝̘͚͈̙͈̤̺́̂́̈͆̀̀́̎̈̋̌͊̀͋̔̇̿̊̾͛͗̀͗̈́̌̔̀̕͘͘̚͜͝͠͠͝͝͝ ̴̡̢̡̢̧̧̛̳̟͙̭̤͕̱̱̹̳̬̥͚͔̯̘̝̤̪̜͕̼̝̦̥̪̲̯̰̼͍͔̯͇͙̯̲̲͙̙̖̭̮͔̻̯̈́̏̅́͆̀̇̊̐͛͆͊̌͊̂̀̀͑̉͐̏̀̐̅̐̃͛̉̾͘͘̚͜͠͝y̵̡̛̛̘͕͔̱͓͓͉͕̪̝̮͚̥̮̪̜̱͕͙͖̹̟̲̹̫̼͓͈̜̰̥͕̗̦̳̯̙̩̋̂͋̇̀̋́͂̓̓̈́̆̎͂̓̾̋̈́̄̆̐̍̋͛̈́͋̆̂̆̇̑̓̇́̈̄̂̃̎̿̇͌͛̐̚͘̕̕͜͜͝͠͝͠ͅơ̶̢̧̹̪̰̩͙̺̮͈͇̜̖͎̲͖̝̻̖̩̬̖̹̣͍̭͙̰͓͈̯̻͕͎̻̐̑̈́͋̌͗͒͒͆̓̂̄͊̒̾͒̒͛͋̍͛̾̑̿͋̑̆̃̌̀͑͋̐́̆̏͊̚̚̕͜͝͝ͅừ̴̡̧̛̥̳̖̮̟̺̬̖̱͍̝̝̥̻͉̼̤̟͎̺͔̟͚͎͗̈̀̅̇͗͒̄͗́͒͆̎̎̍̑̈́͛́͗̌̾̅̓́́̃̆̌̐͌͗͂͌̐̀̚͘̕͘ͅ ̷̨̨̞͓̖͉͇̫̱͉̫̣̮̪̮̻͕̟̥̹͙͚̭̺̲̼̱̼̤̞̫̹̩͓͎͐̾́̽̈́̏͒̐͆́͑̈́̀̽̌́͆͌͌͆̌̾̐̎̑̌̃̐̈́̕͜͝͠͝͝ͅͅk̴̢̛̯͙̮͔̬͙͓̬̻̦̙̖̬͇̭̯̬̳̖̼̦͋̋̈́̋̎̋̾̍̿͂̆̔̆̀̀͊̀̀͐̑̇̉̇̀̊̌̒̑̏̒́̓̇̑̈́͗̌̈́̉͆̉͐̕̚͘͘̕͜͜͝͝͝͠͠ͅn̴̡̧̨̡̛̛̺̻̗͎̹̜̭̼͓̬̱̥̤̮̭̯͕̻͙̯̩̝͕͙̻͓̤̱͎͖̦̟̘̳̹͙͉͍͔̺̤͕̦͂̋͐͂͊͌̀͛̍̃́̏̋̓́́̈̇̐̽̂̒́́̎̔́̂͌̓͐̔̔́͆̿̃̏͐͋̅́͑͘͘̕̕͘̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅơ̸̢̡̧̲̠̻̳̬̮̯͍̭͔̮͇̥̬̼̙̻̰̠̹̲͉͕̭̬̝͔̠̫̦̮̪̮͊̇̀̽̅̈́̏̿̓͌̏̀̽̃̅̎̆͆͆̐͑̇̿͘̕͝͠w̵̢̛̪̠͙̯̺͈͉̬̹͉̞̪̺͙̼̼̖͚̞͍̫̪̼̘͍̥̹͇̹͔͍͉̿̽̅͆́̓̄̆̿̓̀͗̃́̒́̔̒̎̅̇̈́̑̀̓̎͗̎̕͘͝͝ͅͅ.̵̨̡̧̢̡̡̧̮̖̱̦͕͇̝̳̼̫̞͖̰̠͕̝̪̲͂͌͛̀̅́̋̎̈̀̿̌̐̀̈͋͐̂̔̅̈́̄͐̍̈́͂́̔̎́̒͐̾͐̿̿̍̓̅͘͘̚̕͠͝͝͝͠ͅ.̴̧̢̯̤͔̺̙͚̙̣̫̖̼̼̜͚̬̜͇͙̹̦͈̺̺̥͉͓̗̭̪̻͍̹͍̜̠͉͚̙̺̝̓̊̿̓͊͋̈̐̿̐̓̈̽̾̄̈̇̀̄̋̐̉̄̔̽̈́̃͒̚̕͘͘͝͠ͅ.̵̨̢̢̢̢̢̡̛̛̛͕̪̺̙̘͈̙̙̲̥͍̮̟͈̼̩͖̝͇͍̪͓̝̗̮̜̤̻͉̯͉̬͔̹͖̩̅̂̎͊̀̆̋̋̋͑͐̿̆̊͌̔͋̉̅͊̈́͂̋͌͗͋̈́͐̿̊͒͊̌̓͂̿̑͘̕̚͜͝͝͝͝͠                                                                                                                                                 


                                                                                                                                                                                   Ţ̸̧̛̜̗̜̞̪̱̱̫̺̝̫̘̟̼̝̘͈͚̞͔̙̈̈́̔͌͌̑̈́̄̉͌̈͆̂̒͐̋̓̎̾́̐͛͗̋̇͊͜͜͝͝h̴̢̨̡̢̖̙̬̲͚̪͚̞͇̻̼͖̬̹͚̳̱͖͍͎͍̰͗̐͆͌̐̿͆̎̌̈̏̍̋͐͛͗̅̓̇͠͝͠͝ͅè̶̡̡̨͙̝̤̮͎̟̘̗̖̪̯̞̣̦̟̠̘̖̳̬͕̳̟̋̌̅͆̅̋̍̓̑̊́̇̇̀̔̓̈́̾̆͘̕̕͝ͅy̴̡̢̢̼̹̗͎͚̥̣͍̜̙̦͎̩͎̻̝̼͎͈͋͌̍̐͂͒̀͗̽̈́̉̋͋̎͒̄̈͑̋͋̃̌̽̿̕̚̚͜͜͝͠ ̶̧̡̢̭̞̣̰̝͈̖̖̼͙͎̞̲̩̙̫͎̩͙̳̮̟̹̊͑̓̀̐̋͋͑̔͌̀́̄̔̑͊̉̑̃͌̏̕̕͜͝͝͠ͅw̵̢̛̦̻͇͙̠͇͎̜͍̙̞̫̯͓̱̻̩̣͕̯̱͈͌̈́̔̿̇̋̉̑̌̊̌́̍͊͌̐̈́̊̂͑̈́̊͘̕̚͜͜͝͝͝͝ï̵̡̧̧̢̢̪̘̬͎͉̤͔̭̰͖̝̙̯͇̬̜̱̬͚̥̪̤̀͌̒̑͒̏̓̐̓̊͐̉́̈́͗̑͛̈́̾̚͠͠͝ͅl̶̨̛̜̪͖̗̖̝͍̹͎̜̻̼̪͙͓̮̞̺̥̘̳̜̻̦̫̭̼̠͛̄̀̑̽͊̾͌̓̎̂̔̏͌͗́͛̓͛̋͒͆͂̕͝l̶̢̡̛̛͖̪̻͔̯̣̲̰̦̙̳̝̪̘̫̺̼͈̘̝̜̰͇̯̼͚̦̜̂̅̾̍͋͛͋̍̾̀̐̇̅͊͐͒͆̅̈́͂̍͗͂̄̉̌̚͝ ̸̨͇̹͖̝͙̠͉͍̭͕̠̹͙̲̫̱̦͖̫̹̲̆̓̏̆̆͊̅́͒̀̋͐̀̊̄̆̇̌́̄͗͂̀̚̚̕̕͘͜ͅͅͅc̸̢̳̼̭̲͙̱͖͙̗͍̭̙̳̱̜̰͓̱̠͙̮̜̖̹̒͋̀̋̈̈̃̈̉͊́͛͒̇̾̆̎͆̚̕̕͝͠ͅͅǫ̸̧̢̹̮̪̙̰̟̫̲̱̠͎̬̯̯̠̖̰͙͔̹̀̔̓͑͌́̄̈́̍̌̍͐͊̎͛̄̊̚̚̕͝͝͝m̴̢̡̰̙̟̮̜̳̺̬̻͚̥̪̫͚̭̯͔̳̠̱̜͓͇͚͒̾͌̆͑̎̿͆͑̀̑͛̉̈́̈́͋̐͋̈̀̂̔̎̆̚͘ë̷̡̡͖̙͓͈̪̟̲̹̳͚͔̦̲͓̲̩̜̮̤̟͓͑͊̄̽̐̈́͒͛͛̇̌̿͊̃̍̽̅͑̀̚̕̕ͅ ̸̢̡̨̛̛̛̦̥̲̼̥͕̲̤̬̺̙̳͈̬͚͉̫͙͈̤̥̺̭̝͛͆̈́̎̅̉̃̉̑̏̄̊̿͊̍̒̃̇͆͌͒̓̓̽͋̈́͂ͅf̵̧̢̟͉̙̩̦̲̲̟̳̦̞̖͔͉͔̳͓̮̜̫̝̙̓̊̈̂͆̆̈̓̍́̀̋̐̑̄̿̽̈́̓̒̾̎̑́̊͐̀̐͜͝ͅo̵̡̢̟̻̞̠̱͓͈̥̦͔͚̦͔͓͓̞͇͔̱̻̻͎̗͋͗̉́̃̆͑̇̔͊̆͑̈́͗̆͐̔̚̚͠͠͠͝͠ͅr̶̨̧̧͖̗̮̱̱̭̰͈̹̙͖̙̫̺͓̼͕͖̠͚̃̈́͑̃̂̃͛̌̇́͐̈́͛̓̈̓̀̀̔̃̑͘̕͜͠͠ ̷̗̺̺͓̣̝̳̘̟͉̘͍͙̩͙̭̖̥͉̀̓́̋̌̈̏̀̂̂̈̽̂̾́̀̓̉̿̈́͗͒͒͌͜͜͝ͅͅt̷̼̥̭̪̳̫̪͈̼̖̥̰͕͔̟̪͎̬͉̝̱̮͕̩̝͕̮̳͓̂͛̃͊̌̊̋͌̉̏̄̃̉͛͑̍̾̑̇̾̓̄̾̈̓͝͝ḩ̴̧̨̡̛͓̥̻̣̮̖͕̫̠͉͇̥̘͈̺̘̳̠́͐̇̂̄̀͐̎̅͆̾̉̍̄̿̂̂̅̍́͐͋͆̍̚͠ͅę̸̛̛͔̠͈̭̜͚̤̳̥͙̪͍͖̱͙̻͉̬͈̬̠̀͑̂̅̍̈́̾̎̇͛̉͑͊̌͑͐̐̽́́͗͛̈͘̚͘͜m̵̨̢̨̡̧̜̝̭̗͔̝̹̖̦̖̰̩͉͖̙͍̯̜̻̗̘̪̱̩̑͑̓͊͂͌̈́̏̑͌͑̀́̽̃̔͐͗̀̊͑̀̋̎̄̕̕.̸̨̡̨̢̛̩̥͕̳̝̙̳̳̖͍͎̟̣̬̭̮̤̱̻̤̣͉̗͔̋̃͊̿̈́͆̅̈́͂͗̃̐̈́̎̉͗͑͛͛̓̿̆͛̓.̸̧̡̡͍̭̪̯͖͇̭͔̹͓͎̞̹̭͇̪͓͕̥͍̮̺̯̺̻̈́̒̆̂͗͗̇̅̀̽͗̍́̐͌̈́̂̈́̒̕̕̕͜͝͠ͅ.̷̧̛̠͖̪̲̱̼̺̣̯̼̞̣̜͔̪̹̽͌̍̈̐̅̊̾̐̎̈̿̈́̀̀͛͋̑̈́̈́̂͂͛͂͘͜͜͝

                                                                                                    A̴̢̧̧̛̞͈̱̪͉͎͎̭̩̞̼̯̰̖̤̦̯̩͍̬͇̥͔̠̯͕͇͒͗͋̐̓̀̽̌̽͒̐̊͛̉̀͆͐̌̑̇̏̈̂̀͂͘̕̕̕n̸̢̨̘̲͇̪̰̖̹̟̝͎̟̙͖̦̙͔̰̳͇̟̖̻̱̠̂̀̆̅̐̈́̾̈̏̌̂̑͊͆͌́̓̈̎̔͗́͌͑̓̈͜͜͠͝͝͝ͅͅd̵̡̛̛̻̱̭̹̜͚̺͚̻͖͓̥̤̩̖̜͉̞͖̻̗̜̭̫͍͉̀͛̆̑͆͛̍̾̎̍̐͗͑̽̑̎̿̌́̆͆͑̀͐̽̔͘͜͜͠ͅ ̷̨̧̞̲̙̖̮̜̖͖̪̟̗̬̬͙͚̻̹͉̦̰̱͙̘̩̣̪̬̪͑̃̃̊̊͐͆̓̔̎͐̍͛̄̃͊̑̇́̃͊̋̂̓̀̔̉͘̕͠y̸̡̢̢̦̤̱̗͇̞̬̤̻̰̠̘͍͎͖͚̖͍͇̝͓̝̣̰̭̞̋̀̿͂͗͐̾́̋̓̔̌̍͒̊́͋͗̉̇́̀͒͑̈́̈͆̕̕͜͠ơ̸̡̢̘̤͈̻̮̦͖͓̖͍̦̘̜̟̖͍͇̩̺̣̺̙̥͎̼̳̩͙̏̅̽̉̂̽̔̂̍̊́͊̓͊͒͋̍͗̊̇̆͑̆͌̈̇̑́͠ų̴̢͖̺͕̰̩͎̗͎̮̝͎͖̼̱͓̞͖̖̱̙̬͉̭̣͉̹̜̥̍̇͐̇̈́̈́̓̿̄̅̏̈́̋͗̍̉̈́̄͊͆̿̅̅̔̄̈͝͠͝ ̵̨̨̪͍̞͇̰̯̻̼͙͓͚͕̠̱͔̩̳̘̦͙͈͙͖̳̦̠̲͆̏͒̽̔̌̃̑́͑̎͂́͗̒͐̈̿̆̀͂̄͗͂̚̕͝͝͠͝ͅw̴̡̧̢̧͓̘̭̲̮̯͎̜͕̜̼̖͉͈̙͍̗̜̹̼̥̻̣̿͋͆͒́̎͗͋̔͒̇̾̉̎̿́̌̋̈̾̆́͗͊̐̕̕͘̚͜͝ͅͅį̷̡̡͈͖͉̭̩̣͍͍̪̺̜̺̜̻̥̯̭͇̰̖̺̼̯̯̞̗̠̈́̃̂̐̽͒̍̽̿̿̌͂́̃̎̍̉̐͌̾̌̉̆̂́͒͘͘̚͝l̷̨̡̛̠̻̜̼̦͉͍̞̙̘̩͚̹̭̮̻̘͉̞̫͕͍̥̙̮̞͉̞̄̀̉̌͋̑͂̿̋̂̿́͗̔͒̏͗̍̉̎̓̿̀͑͂̋͘̕͠l̶̡̛̠͚̖̜͈̗̺̰̻̦͇̻̠̪̲̱̞̤̪̭̯̼̮̭͙̱͓̰͌̌̈́̅̍̋̒͗̊́͋̀͊͑̋̏̓̆̏̾́͑̈͌̚̚͠͠͝ͅ ̵̡̧̡͔̯̯͖̰̙̺̫͙̳̱͔̲̥̞̯͓̙̘̲̯̥͓͕̰̐̂̓̓̀͊̓͑̂̏̒͋͗̌̈́̽̉̍̾̏̆͌͛͗̉̑̕͜͜͝͠͝a̸̡̢̨̢͈̳̼͚̗͕̯͍͓̳̟̠̖̮̭͉̤͉̝̫̩̱̠̬̹̙͒̋̀̊̃̍̏̐̄̎͋̆͛̾̀̀́̅͆̀̈́̂̽͗́̄͊̍̚͠l̷̨̨̧̢̲̠͉̣̪̼͚̗͔̙̱͙͉͙̗̱͇̤̤̣̟͈͕͋̊͆̌̔̌̈́̈́̾̓̂̏̎̂̉̊̿͛͂̆͋̽͋͐̈́̈́̕͘͜͝͝ͅͅļ̵̡̧̡̡̧̠͚̞̤͇͈͓̥͈̯̙̺̦̼͚͖̱͇̙͈͉̦͇̏̐̅̉̓͊͐̾̅̓̉̈́͆̏͋͆̒̇̒̐̓́̈́͛͐̂̚̚͝͠ͅ ̵̨̡̢͎̹͍̖̩̬̺̠̦̯̝̞̖͍̝͈̣͕̼͎͈̘͖̼͓͐̂͒̀̋̍͊̔̿͊́̿́̈́͒͐̊̅͂̀̎̉̿̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͝͝ẹ̵̡̢̢̧̛̛̛̺̼̣͎̜̻̙͚̦͕̤̭̳͎̮̣̳̱̺͙̤̯̩̫̈̋̔͆̈́̑̾͋̀͆̓̀͂̌͆̐͌́͂̏̏̃̚͘̚͜͝͝n̴̢̡̡̛̛̟͈͇̫̙̼͙͚̙̫̪̲̜͓̘͈̺̗̪͔̰̭̯͚̂̽̋̌̀͊̒̾̽̎̈́̀̓̄̒͆͆͂̈̑̀̈́̒̏̚͜͜͜͝͝͝ḑ̸̢̛̱͔̠̰̗͖̠̺̪͉̺̙͇̰͎̯͔͔͈̩͖̺̤̫͎̟̮̌̂̀̓̉́̃̈͋̈́̏͆̍̅̅̒̀̀̾̀͂̋̿̈́̂́̕͜͝͝

Criminy, what on earth could that skullduggery be about?

Hello all! With a new month on the horizon, one of my favorites at that, it is time to start cranking out the new files! I would have had this one finished sooner, but given it is a mecha, I decided I would need to go a bit further than I have before and rehaul much of the file image to fit that. And I'm pretty proud of the result.

Rigel is an old idea that has taken a while to be fully realized. It all started with an old image I saw on pinterest of all places many years ago. I've never seen it anywhere since, making it something of a white whale for me, but it was of a derelict, highly advanced looking robot sitting in the middle of a valley surrounded by trees and towering peaks. A single ring of blue light illuminated the center of its chest, and it inspired a whole aesthetic for me I never knew I wanted.

For the longest time, funny enough, I pictured this mecha as a stark, polished white, with a distinct texture that I had never seen until earlier this year when I saw Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. Ego's ship was EXACTLY what I was picturing, but after trying to replicate that, I realized something. The blue rings did not stand out nearly as much as I thought they would, and after a little tweaking, the darker gray color came to be and its been smooth sailing since.

Anyway, I know this file is a little vague compared to some others and leaves the Stormback arc a little unfinished, but I assure you, Rigel is a bigger part of the story than this one chapter, and finishing Stormback's path of destruction is just a tiny sliver of it. There are a lot of mysteries ahead, and I hope you stick around. The next file should be much quicker in getting here.
Fathom File 005.3: Amminot Brasqa
From the Files of Frank Womack, Kaiju Expert*

Kaiju File #  005 {Page 3}

Amminot (Am-mihn-naught)
    Brasqa Form

First Seen: Somalia coastline, Africa
Last Seen: Cairo Ruins, Egypt

Primary Range: 
Non-Polar Regions

Dietary Preference: Kaiju Flesh



-Polyp Stage- 

-Faetas Stage-

The Amminot polyps, deadly as they are, come with a nefarious second purpose. Like the kaiju cells they were built to destroy, they too can aggregate together into more monstrous forms. The first observed bloom to do so transformed into a monstrous, tentacled creature with surprising chimeric traits taken from vertebrate and invertebrate life forms. No two since have been exactly alike, so giving an exact description is difficult that encompasses them all, but as your esteemed informer I have done my best to give you the common traits below. The image above is a rendering of the pair of next instars that appeared from the Nile River Delta, where they battled the kaiju Stormback among the now ruined city of Cairo.
The Amminot virus seems to possess an ability to read whatever is causing its bloom undo harm, and proceeds to attempt to adapt to that struggle to protect the rest of its kin as much as possible. Through some unknown stimuli, polyps will begin to mass together in untold numbers, forming into larger and larger organisms until reaching proportions only kaiju can equal, at times even greater. This second stage, the Faetas, will then destroy whatever sort of obstruction to the growing polyps is nearby.

After this, should a Faetas go undisturbed long enough, an occurrence born of extreme negligence, it will eventually gather unto itself and calcify its gargantuan mass into an extremely dense mineral-like cocoon. After approximately 12 hours of metamorphosis, a pair of Brasqa, much smaller but much deadlier, will emerge. No one knows the origins of this name, it likely originated online but the exact source has never been found, and was possibly redacted.

Unlike Faetas stages, which take on traits to adapt to the environment, Brasqa come in a much smaller variety of appearances. They have upright bodies with the same violet gelatinous skin, but there is a greater quantity of calcification underneath it, forming a crude endoskeletal structure that offers support and protection. Several spiny appendages can be found lining its entire body, often emerging in moments of combat to protect them from physical assaults on all sides. Most recognizable of the new features are the extended tapering jaws which have a draconic appearance to them, and the curved horn emerging from its midsection, whose purpose is still poorly understood.

Another factor to consider is the intelligence, a Brasqa possesses not only self-preservation instincts, but also the ability to read a situation from a tactical perspective, and can even bring itself into purposeful harm to protect its counterpart. Many experts believe there are even signs of individual personalities beginning to emerge, but lord forbid we let them stick around long enough to find out.

Defense Protocols:
 As mentioned in the past entries on these gestalt organisms, it is rare nowadays to ever see a bloom of polyps get big enough to assemble into a proper chimeric amalgamation. It is almost unheard of for a bloom to get to the Brasqa point, but if they do, one must bring all available ordinance to bear immediately. These beings possess a higher degree of intelligence and capacity to adapt than prior stages, and if not dealt with quickly entire cities can fall in hours. Just two of them ravaged Cairo in its entirety, leaving it a dried husk of a metropolis. Deploying the SOL, and using it as quickly as can be done, is the best option. 

As noted before, Grorn considers these beings a priority, and will appear to deal with them as they grow as a threat. Given its unique qualifications, I find it best to allow it to do its work uninterrupted, but in case it is distracted elsewhere over something like a Verminator or a Syyd stalker, prepare for scorched earth.

Noteworthy Abilities:

-Germination: As with the polyps, the Brasqa stage is still at heart millions of microscopic organisms operating together. However, unlike the Faetas, the polyps making up a Brasqa are much more specialized for specific functions, and experience difficulty surviving when separated from the host body.  

-Specialization: Upon transforming, the Amminot takes on several new traits based on the DNA they have acquired to determine what best would allow them to defeat their foe. There has yet to be an exact duplicate case of this ability occurring, so use your imaginations to fill in the blanks.

-Heightened Intelligence: As the Amminot advance further down their fiendish life cycle, their capacity for intelligence rises with it. At the Brasqa stage, they begin to display a capacity for problem solving at levels we have yet to understand the limits of completely. They even begin to conceptualize things like teamwork and self-sacrifice, which make them much deadlier opponents than the mindless flailing attacks of a Faetas. 

-Azura Beam: A Brasqa's deadliest attack, a scattered blast of blue energy that can emerge both from its mouth and most of its spiny appendages. These blasts have an extremely wide range and can decimate cities if left alone. It seems to rely moreso on range than power, as any single beam is less than a hundredth the potency of Stormback's photon beam.

As Stormback continued its march through Northern Africa, all eyes on earth that could find a screen were glued to the reptilian terror's absolute power over whatever it faced. The Sudanese military, along many insurgent groups that joined them to face a common enemy, were powerless to even scratch it. OVER was in panic mode, redirecting the SOL as quickly as they could and already discussing building a second one to keep in the opposing hemisphere when this was all done. But during all this commotion, no one noticed another incident occurring just a few miles away in the Nile Delta. 

Stormback's ability to generate storm systems brought, in spite of all the destruction, an unusual blessing. Rain fell in many arid regions, longer and harder than the average entirety of a rainy season. It caused some ecological damage, landslides and the like, but for the most part people out of the kaiju's direct proximity were grateful for it. The same could not be said, however, for the upper Nile Delta. The dry conditions, it turns out, were keeping a deadly secret buried. An Amminot bloom, the last dregs of the battle in Dubai, many guess, emerged, taking advantage of the moisture to ravage the local ecosystem, eventually spreading north towards human inhabited areas, eventually rooting itself down in Cairo.

Now OVER found itself torn. They had two colossal threats to deal with, each bringing its own issues. The Amminots were a familiar threat, one we knew we could deal with, but Stormback seemed to be much hardier as an opponent. They attempted to engage both at this point, splitting their strike forces down the middle to disastrous results. Stormback decimated their small scale weapons platforms in under an hour and the Amminots entered the Faetas stage as soon as they encountered resistance, striking down their forces and leaving OVER severely depleted of resources. It was then, in a decisive moment, that UNDER decided to emerge from the shadows, promising their mothballed ordinance to the cause. But to everyone's surprise, they focused on evacuation of the Egyptian populace over retaliation. It was Doctor Gaither who pointed out why. Stormback, much like Grorn before it, was homing in on the bloom. And given its extended aggression towards Entch back in Somalia, there was no doubt the reptilian monstrosity would ignore such a powerful opponent, and with luck both would be in the ideal range for the SOL to strike. 

Eventually, the Faetas ran out of targets in Cairo, and entered a new stage of behavior many were morbidly eager to study. Its gelatinous body hardened into an obsidian shell, taking on a giger-esque posture, and simply went dormant. Even the remaining polyps went into a torpor, baffling experts. UNDER took advantage of this and attempted to fire on the creature from their attack carrier, the Vajra, but the railguns lacked the power to punch through the hard shell of the crysalis. But they knew they wouldn't have to. Stormback was getting closer. About 12 hours after the Faetas went dormant, the kaiju entered the city limits, bulldozing through every building, ancient and modern alike to reach its goal. Sure enough, it was the coccoon. Charging up with a bolt of lightning, the creature roared and loosed its deadliest attack, the photon beam, which lanced through the shell in a violet explosion. But it was not enough. Two creatures scuttled out of the remains, and immediately began to double-team with larger threat with coordinated attacks we had not seen the like of from kaiju. Most are lone wolves, even Verminator's rarely came to the aid of another of their kind. But these, the Brasqa, could work as a team. And for a while it worked, Stormback was unable to really focus on one over the other. 

This angered the reptile. And one photon beam later the entirety of the city skyline was in flames, burning the two creatures severely. The more damaged of the two then did something unexpected, it threw its mangled body at Stormback, fighting as though it had everything to lose. The reason why was shocking, it was giving its counterpart time to get away. OVER was given a hard choice at that moment, they could use the SOL on Stormback and the weaker Brasqa, potentially wiping them both out, or they could go after the fleeing one, ending another bloom before it began. One choice was better for their pride, Stormback had humbled them gravely and would continue to do so, but the blooms were a much greater threat to populations as a whole. Thankfully, egos were put to rest and the right choice was made. With a holy blast of the heavens, the fleeing Brasqa was vaporized, and Stormback made quick work of the remaining creatures. Many wonder why Grorn never appeared to face these fiends, but honestly I think it knew the situation was handled. Stormback is incredibly strong, possibly even moreso than Grorn. And as it roared in victory and made its way further north into the Mediterranean, we were all beginning to understand just how much that strength could do. 


Hello all! We're returning to a somewhat familiar face this time around, with the next stage of the single celled superbaddies, the Amminots. Its fun to develop an organism like these, with a life cycle you can just make up with no constraints or limitations. 

Heavily inspired by the Ing, inky body snatching baddies from Metroid Prime 2, the Amminots have a whole myriad of forms in store for the world, and this, the third one, is only scratching the surface. Hopefully, you guys stick around long enough to find out. My next file may take a bit to finish, I'm trying something a little different this time. But until then, enjoy. :)


Jared Fisher
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Welcome to the realm of Jared Fisher's mind. If you can handle it, stick around. There's much to see here.
For all you HWE folks out there, I figured I'd join on the fun and do one of these things for Horvath, Paul, Allison, Frank, Faris, Vita and Oliver. I will spoil nothing, but feel free to broach any topic you like. I could use the fleshing out. ;)

Journal History


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GoldandSliverDragon Featured By Owner Jul 3, 2017
Hey I'm a fan of your work and I'm trying to get an art challenge going for Halloween. It seems it would be a thing you would and some of the monsters are kaiju size. Anyway, I'm posting it early so everyone will have enough time to get their art readily. Here the link:

31-obscure Monsters Halloween Challenge 2017
Cloudman313 Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2017  Hobbyist Artist
Thank you so much for joining our group!! :D
We hope you enjoy it there :)
A3DNazRigar Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2017  Student Digital Artist
Happy B-day mate :)
ProtanaArchives94 Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2017  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, Jared! :D
Sci-fiman2xxx Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2017
TheMaukerko Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2017  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Happy Birthday!! :D
KaijuX Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday! :)
Reptek Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2016  Student General Artist
Happy Birthday! :) (Smile) 
Ravensaurs-Rex Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Happy day you saw your mother naked!
ProtanaArchives94 Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy Birthday, Jared! :D
KaijuX Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday! ;)
A3DNazRigar Featured By Owner Apr 30, 2016  Student Digital Artist
Happy B-day man!
King-Edmarka Featured By Owner Oct 5, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the watch!  I appreciate it.  :)
Samjoos Featured By Owner Oct 4, 2015  Student Filmographer
Like your Godzilla works. Might I suggest you make Dagahra from Rebirth of Mothra 2, Gabara from All Monsters Attack aka Godzilla's Revenge, Gaira and Sanda from War fo the Gargantuas, Ookondoru the giant condor from Godzilla vs Ebirah, and Minilla, son of Godzilla. I'm a bit of a Godzilla fan and from the looks of it you're a bit of one too. Nice to meet you.
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