mountain guardian

A Bayverse Megatron for the soul. He’s tired and he wants his Starscream back. It appears Barricade’s bootleg fireworks display didn’t go as planned. 

TFP Dogformers here. Even though Bayverse!Megatron and TFP!Megatron look quite similar and share the same breed (Caucasian Ovcharka), they have different markings and personalities. 

@gottalovesteak I made something! It’s Mr. Chubby Cheeks!


The unnamed puppers, getting new experiences and exposure to things on the farm. This is an important period, farm dogs need to not only bond with their charges but get used to people and car rides and other things they will encounter, even if infrequently.

She’s enjoying some safe (digestible) rawhide alternatives to work out all her puppy chewing while Cream nurses our injured goat’s kid on the milk stand.

April 17, 2017.

Mini Musings: Guardians and their Memories

Recently I had a talk with @yourspunkpunk over Guardians and whether they remember their past lives, and I know that this is a prevalent issue within the community itself. 

Now I don’t know whether this is a writing oversight from Bungie or just a way to underline that every Guardian’s experience is unique (as an optimist who likes to reconcile all contradictory lore I personally prefer the latter option) so let’s just bring up the different perspectives on this. 

1. Guardians have no memory at all of their past lives. 

Example: Fenchurch Everis.

Fenchurch was resurrected by his Ghost, Neville, on the wastelands of Mars. He woke up utterly alone in the sand, except for one Silver coin with a digital signature. Said digital signature matched one of Tess Everis’s Silver coins, thus leading to the conclusion that he was one of her long lost relatives. He woke up with no memory of his past life, and spent years searching the solar system for whatever clues could lead him to discover who he was before he became a Guardian.

2. Guardians have a jumbled memory of their past lives. 

Example: Cayde-6.

Cayde has a journal, detailing his experiences living in the Golden Age, before he became a Guardian and before he even became an Exo. He even mentions Maya Sundaresh by name and describes her physique explicitly. However, the memories of the Golden Age are interspersed with information that’s definitely post-Collapse: Hive targets, being a Guardian, hiding in a cave with a camouflage cloak wrapped around himself, lending credence to the idea that his memories are jumbled and lumped together after an entire brain reset.

3. Guardians have enough memory of their past lives to assemble an identity. (This is the one least likely to be true and barely has any evidence for it.)

Examples: Pod #10201 (Master Chief?).

Upon scanning Pod #10201, Ghost states that he tried to resurrect him before you, but the person inside still preferred to stay dead, claiming that the “last war was enough for a thousand lifetimes.” Aside from implying that Ghosts can talk to dead people and ask them for consent to becoming Guardians (which is a topic for another time) this also carries the implication that dead people can still have memories post, well, you know, dying. It is really strange, and I have an idea as to how, but I need to do more research on it.

(Canon lore ends here.) 

Now, what do I think? 

I believe, that because Ghosts can scan things down to the quantum state (a mechanic required to understand the inner workings of Hive magic and Vex technology), that they can recreate people down to that resolution. Therefore, if there are electrical and neurotransmitter signals still running around the brain at the time, they would carry over, and so would their corresponding neural pathways. 

However, because said memories and neural pathways only work if constantly reinforced, these latent memories would be practically obliterated due to the mountain of information Guardians have to process within seconds of waking up. It’s disorienting enough to play the videogame if you’ve never played it before.
I can only imagine it would be much more so to actually wake up in it. 

If a Guardian was resurrected in a therapy chair and asked to try and remember their past lives instead of being immediately forced to survive beyond the Walls, then maybe we’d have a Guardian with full knowledge of who they were before they died. But who knows?

This post is not meant to destroy anyone’s headcanons or argue against them, it’s only meant to give evidence to all three points. 

Thank you for reading, and happy hunting, Guardians. 


Surprise!!! It’s a new livestock puppy! She’s a purebred Great Pyrenees from working lines, born on a cattle farm.

I get the feeling we left with the “runt” (oh, no, our giant breed might be slightly small) as the other pups were all reserved and bigger/fluffier and pure white, but look at this tiny beast! I love her markings and hope they don’t fade. I’ve been watching Craigslist for legit LGDs for a while and they are few and far between. This whole litter sold out in just two days! She was $400, which isn’t bad.

Originally, we planned to stagger the dogs out in age. One old dog, one young dog, but we just ended up with two old dogs. Our first dog, Jasper (husky mutt from the pound) is trucking right along at 13 years old and Kimber (Pyrenees/Anatolian) is now 7 and they only live to around 10 or so. Three dogs wasn’t necessarily part of the plan but it works out because the new pup can work with Kimber and it’s the perfect time with barn stalls done, fencing up, and lots of baby animals to interact with. When we got Kimber, all we had were chickens and we had to tie her up, which was less than ideal and complicated by her ability to break chains… At one point she snapped a chain rated for 600lbs and she’d walk right through the neighbor’s hot-wire to visit the horses. She ended up in the house more than not and bonded with us and has only in the last year gotten to be what she was meant to be, spending the bulk of her time in the yard with the animals with five fenced acres. Yet she tends to get lonely for us and gets to howling when she gets lonely in the yard. To start things off on the right foot and bond her with the livestock first, New Pup slept on the barn with the goat kids. It was… Harder on us than it was on her but we persevered. It critical that she get a good start so she’s happier and to curtail the excessive barking/howling we have with Kimber as there’s neighbors on either side of us.

April 16, 2017.


Two dogs Sittin on a Subway, No Feet Apart ‘Cause they’re Very Gay. TFP Megatron is a Caucasian Ovcharka, TFP Starscream is a Borzoi, IDW Megatron is a Tibetan Mastiff, IDW Starscream is a Silken Windhound. Idea came from photos of dogs riding the subway in Moscow. 

For @gottalovesteak and @skywarper

The Morrigan

There once was a time before man ruled,
A veiled one made of mountains,
Born, a guardian of wisdom and in the plenty years,
In her triple goddess form: of fury, frenzy and rage,
Haunted as a crow flying over the battlefield.
Washing the armour of the ones about to die,
In the old tongue of Irish and Welsh
Bringing peace to those to needed a hand to cover eyes.

Many centuries passed, the people forgot.
The time of the land, the simple ploughing and sowing
The importance of cows, the making of bread,
Songs around camp-fires withered away, repressed and
Omitted, burned and buried.

More time passed. In the present,
Scions sit placid, numbed to the world around them,
Sick to the stomach starving for a beauty fixation.
Too exhausted, to rear their heads against the new religion,
Who stripped them bare of their feminine power.
The bird shadows dismemberment
Of her different shapes echo, fluttering slap of wings
Dancing over the cut-throat floods of lies.

We see her in the women who stand tall and strong
In the women who dare to speak to the “rule of the father”
In the women to take to the streets
In the women who write and wrote poetry
In the women who dance
In the women who say and said No. In the women who have not forgotten.

In the end, the earth will vomit forth pits of snakes,
Venomous revenge for the mummified centuries
Of punishing the ones who give birth to us all.

From the hills far away
Sometimes you can hear her name
In the call of a blind owl-and know she is sleeping
In her tomb of incarnation,
Somewhere under ground-tucked away with her silver blade,
Ready for the turning of yesterday into today.