Girl Genius

A 33-post collection

(in response to today's comic and the feels generated therein) - Before Agatha, Zeetha was close to committing suicide by wilderness/apathy....


She should have known, because it was too quiet. Zeetha had become too used to the sounds of battle to listen for them in the midst of conjugal bliss.

And in the morning, Mechanicsburg was lost.

Not fallen. Not burned. Not destroyed.


As if it had never been there.

Many of the armies had fled. A few lost clanks littered the field of former battle and one lone Wolfenbach monitor ship patrolled amongst the clouds.

“…no…” Zeetha breathed. Her heart fought to sink into the core of the planet and leap out of her mouth at the same time. It couldn’t be happening. Not again.

Not again!

Those few humans still on the field leaped in terror as a new howl rang over the plains below where Mechanicsburg used to be.


Axel Higgs, roused from the depths of the clank they had shared, looked out over the empty battlefield and the vast expanse of mountain range where Mechanicsburg wasn’t.

“Huh,” he said. “It’s never done that, before.”

Rage overtook her. Such epic fury had leveled a pirate fortress, but Higgs held her off until her body failed her and she collapsed in a fit of tears.

“…not again… not again… lost all over again… [I was beginning to think I had gone mad…]”

“[You are not mad. Skifander is real,]” soothed Higgs. “[And Agatha is alive. We must live with these two faiths, Princess.]”

“You… speak Skiff?”

“I’ve been around,” he said with a half-smile. “That’s not important, right now. Right now, you and I need to find out what happened to Agatha, and maybe even Mechanicsburg, and set things right.”

“How can I possibly—?”

“Let’s start by rounding up a few remaining witnesses, eh?”

Fighting! That, she could focus on! Zeetha grabbed a sword and prepared to leap out and do battle.

“But you might want to get dressed, first?” Higgs suggested.

Zeetha looked down at his shirt on her body and blushed.


That had been two years ago. A chain of vigorous interrogation lead her and Higgs to *this* snow-swept, hidden mountain range. Where a secret, hidden lair of the Knights of Jove may just be keeping a time travel device.

The problem with that was, that snow-swept, hidden mountain ranges were just *teeming* with secret, hidden lairs. All owned by different Sparky nutjobs with differing agendas and associated secret societies.

Some days, Zeetha felt like she was going through them in alphabetical order.

She shook one of the surviving, robed adepts until he woke. “Where are the Knights of Jove?”

“…dunno…” he squeaked. “We’re the Shrouded Cavalcade of Eee…”

Another day, another smoking ruin of a formerly secret, hidden lair.

“I’m coming, my Zumil,” she said to the whipping wind. “I’m coming. Remember all I taught you. Rememb—” She fought the sting in her eyes.

She had a promise to keep.

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Tarvek + a frilly maid outfit - do with it what you will.


“Monster delivery!” sang the maid as she entered.

“That’s a monster?”

“That’s a maid?”

The red-head curtseyed. “F’give me sir, but I was told to deliver this green beast to this lab.”


“I did not order a monster.”

“Nor did I.”

“Probably a mix-up at the warehouse again.”

“You stay here -ah- miss. We’ll sort this out in due course.”

Sara stepped out of the cage and spat out her false teeth. “So much for the

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Iron Chef - Mechanicsburg!



“What I want to know is—”


“—who thought this was a good idea?”


Gil winced as the klaxon blared. “Well, given the -ah- intense emotion, and the fact that this town’s had enough battle…”


“…I thought this was slightly more rational.”

One competitor had not bothered attempting to sabotage the competition. She had knives flying, all right, but they were chopping, slicing, dicing, julienne-ing and otherwise preparing food. The grim determination in her

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Gil and Tarvek try Agatha's "special coffee".


“Honestly, that flask says ‘Do not open’. There has to be a reason.”

“Exactly why I’m opening it. To see why[1].”

Tarvek, at least, had the sense to duck and cover.

“Some kind of liquid…” Gil sniffed cautiously. “It’s coffee!”

“It’s in a sealed container with a warning label! That alone is enough to put it back where it came from!”

“…there was something important I was supposed to remember about coffee…”

Tarvek growled. “Oh, warm it

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ficwar prompt: Jager shipping wars.


“Aggil!” Xox roared, proving he was a proponent of Agatha/Gil.

“Targatha!” Hollered Drej, proving he was a proponent of Agatha/Tarvek.






Pixo kept supping her soup.

“Hyu is not fightink?” asked a so-far casual bystander.

“Hy try to schtay out ov dese tings,” she admitted. “But hy am a liddle fond of Agthar.”



The bystander made a face. “Eugh. Hyu haz not goot taste.”

“Which is vhy Hy schtay out ov dese

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The Jagerkin: who knew they had such a passion for matchmaking? (and such a lack of talent at it)?


“He iss boy, hyu iss gorl. Vhat more could hyu vant?”

“How about a pulse?” she indicated the man in question. A rather well-preserved mummy in their current oubliette. He had fantastic bone structure, but then… all he was was bone structure. “Or flesh?”

“Hokay, so he needs a liddle of de fixink opp. Since vhen is dot new?”

“I don’t have the equipment, and I’m not exactly certain he’ll be worth the bother. That, and I’ll

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Siracha makes anything more edible - theoretically.


“Why is there only a bottle of Siracha in the survival rations?”

“Because the people who packed it assumed that anyone needing it would be able to live off the land. And Siracha, as it says on the lable, makes anything more edible.”

“But I’m allergic and this landscape is entirely poisonous.”

“We shall write a scathing letter to the company the minute we get out of this mess. Pay attention, would you? I’m trying to build a Siracha-powered

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Prompt: Their actions may not have changed history, but they certainly changed geography.


They had called themselves the League of Justice. Ordinary folks who used sparky inventions to foil, imprison, or otherwise stop other sparks. And they caught Sara.

She, and her clank storage trunk, were the only things to come out of the resulting crater.

“I see you rescued yourself,” said Gil.

“I told them not to mess with my luggage. They should have taken me seriously.”

“What were they doing?”

“Changing the course of history, they believed,” Sara looked back. “They finished

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Challenge #151: One Stormy Evening at Genracon

Klaus + Da Boyz + Comic Convention = Wacky Hijinks


Lightning raged, both natural and artificial, through the iron catacombs where he and this idiot trio of Jaegers had decided to pick a fight.

“Not so close to the por–”




The lights came back on. Crowds in varying degrees of unrealistic dress stared at the tangle of Baron and Jaegermonsters…

And burst into shrieking applause.

Maxim straightened first,

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geekhyena: savagedamsel: mapsanddesirefrustrated replied to your post: I just I am so fucking skeeved out and I think... COSIGNED....






Geekhyena (who will donate fire-breathing sheep to provide said fires)

Signed, InterNutter. Who will supply a horde of rabid, flesh-eating plotbunnies to tear any remaining flesh apart.

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Epic prank wars - either GGverse or Evoverse, your pick.


[AN: Since I have a fic in progress with Sara turning up in the GG universe, I can get away with both!]

She really should not have followed master Gilgamesh. But she had and, having followed master Gilgamesh, found an adventure. This, though, was a lull-point. Fixing and repairing and building and, strangely enough, taking a well-deserved rest.

Which was how she met Mama/Jaegergeneral Gkika. She was all sharp smiles and, for a Jaeger, cunning. 

They conversed for a while

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Zantabraxus meets Ottilia.


The Queen of Skifander was never weak. Though she rode a palanquin, it was a tactic. Four sets of feet were faster than one on their own. Her bearers were gaining on the interlopers. Zantabraxus coiled on her throne like a cat readying itself to pounce. Soon, they would be in range…


“What?” said the usurper. “How the heck did she get here?”

She was a giant of a clank made of silver and gold. Her wings were in sad

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Geeky Mutants + Danger Room = Holodeck-style shenanigans.


Logan stared at the view from the observation port. The brats were battling on twin dirigibles. One team with blue bandannas, the other with red. There were swords, steampunk machines, flying apes, strange beasts and… orchestral music?

Elf was enjoying every last minute of it.

“Have at thee, foul miscreants,” he cried, swinging all over the place like a monkey on a bender. “However many you may be, you can not match the heart of a true musketeer.”

Tallwater was singing

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Zantabraxus and Gil - making up for lost time.


Zeetha stared out the porthole. Unbidden tears fell down her face.

“Are you hurt?” Agatha managed. It had been a rough landing of a pod never meant to fly. Zeetha was lucky she was upright. Agatha and Gil were still turned about and tangled in their impromptu rewiring.

“I’m… home…”

Agatha got herself untangled with a loud thud, peered out the porthole. The jeweled towers of Skifander shone in the dawn light. A glistening cohort of Skifandran soldiers were approaching

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