[Cosmosdex] The Universal Encyclopedia



Chicken Wings / The Knight

“You are your own worst critic and your own biggest fan. You will never know yourself as others do. u-u” — J-411

Art by, frog

Part of the Notail collection

Emblem by CosmicClaxon
  • Strength-10
  • Intelligence-10
  • Charisma-4
  • Endurance-1
  • Agility-7
  • Luck-5

Age: 59 years
Size: 6 ft tall, 15 ft long
Species: Notail

Job: Notail leader of the J-class
Likes: Neutrality, Integrity, Control, Silence, Gadgets, Protection
Dislikes: Fear, Anger, Blame, Dishonesty, Intimacy, Pranks, Jello
Notable contributions: J-411 is the current leader of the J-class notails and oversees all supreme cases that have not reached O-class court. It is their prerogative to protect the empire in all cross-species cases.

[Polite] Positive trait
This character is very polite. Most character may find them pleasant to talk with and will gain a sanity bonus when interacting with them.
[Escape Artist] Positive trait
This character will almost always manage to get out of sticky situations.
[Rarely Meddles] Neutral trait
This character isn't into meddling with other people's affairs and will commonly stay out of trouble unless forced to.
[Monotone] Neutral trait
This character speaks in a monotonous and somewhat robotic manner. It may be difficult to determine their feelings from their tone of voice.
[Coward] Negative trait
This character will always try to back down from a fight, though they will still act in self-defense if they don't have a choice. If forced into dangerous situations, they will suffer morale loss, and will be more inclined than most to abandon their crewmates.
[Distrusting] Negative trait
This character is slow to trust others and may not understand sincerity or integrity, believing that people must be motivated by self-interest. They may disobey orders or go against their own crew because they believe they are trying to trick them.
[Selfish] Negative trait
This character usually makes choices that will only benefit themselves. While this character may have good morals that could dissuade them from choosing something that would harm others, they will think of their well-being as number one priority over everybody else. Because of this, they are less likely to share their goods or put themselves in harm's way for the sake of others.
[Improv] Ability trait
Ability: This character can bluff about anything and tells a convincing lie. Automatically pass one intelligence or charisma check. | Cooldown: Once a day.

Original Creator: CosmicClaxon

Physical Description

Intergalactic court was declared as this knight's domain, and thus they infrequently occupy most notail common-space. One may be more likely to encounter a one-way mirror, a chicken-scratch signature, or to make brief eye contact between jury duty and deliberation than to meet casually with J-411. That isn't to say that J-411 is disinclined to public appearances à la O-11, but it is not a priority of theirs.

J-411 ornaments themself in matte, white drapery: a dress or judge's robe. Their mask, similarly, is fastened to a hood that begins at their mask's jawbone and ends at their shoulders. The mask itself resembles a geometric horse with a sail of a mane in which J-411 tucks their arrow-shaped antennae. The mask's eyes are shut. There is no smile, no frown, its acceptance as a jovial notail face relies solely on J-411's interpretation. As the leader of the Judge-class, it is so.

Years of wearing armor has left J-411 a robust figure underneath their gown. However, unlike their peers who take advantage of their size, J-411 does not wish to fill a room. To be tall would be decent, to portray authority convenient, but intimidation unless absolutely necessary would be a severe hindrance to the art of subtlety. J-411 is not a brute, or at least they don't perceive themself as one. Those hearing J-411 over antenna-talk usually assign J-411 a shy voice, something that enters one's thoughts and then leaves without lingering. Of course, no species aside from other notails are capable of hearing this voice. J-411's tangible voice, which their mask digitally distorts, is a deep and orotund monotone.

When encountered, J-411 swivels their neck without shifting any weight in their shoulders, withdrawing their hands, one pasty and the other a graying brown. Their footsteps click heavily, yet seldom loud enough to echo. The only thing that seems at all natural about the way J-411 moves is in the imperfections of their gait, having not a pair of standard notail legs but chimeric replacements. They're reminiscent of some goat (despite J-411's obvious preference for horses) and incorporate a spaded tail. The tail sways as they walk, smooth, but twitchy, and always held close when they stand still. Had the tail not come with the legs, J-411 would see no reason to have one at all. Removing it only felt unnecessary.

If all other characteristics fail, one will know J-411 by their shield. Shaped like a pair of folded pegasus wings, J-411 seems, if not only fond of it, almost averse to ever removing it from their back. While J-411 is strained from the sheer weight of it, they keep their back straight and poised. The shield is a symbol of guardianship. For whom that symbol is for we can no longer say.


J-411 can be surmised as any good knight should. They reek of chivalry as though misplaced from a former time. Conventional, genteel, the universe's mildest sycophant, they're somewhat antithetical to the notail leader they associate most closely with, I-42. While I-42 fits the trope of the hardboiled detective, J-411 is strictly golden age. However, J-411 has more or less retired to the role of "quest giver" these days. I and J-classes working directly under J-411 on a current case are administered watches with the express purpose of providing holographic updates. These watches are required to be on at all times.

A controversial choice, since J-411 prescribes to the rule of thumb that all opinions, all preferences and vocalizations of these preferences, have a time and a place. This time and a place as it applies to J-411 is unknown, outwardly reticent and rarely verbose. Some describe J-411 as "flaky". It is similarly unknown if missing appointments or employing the occasional silent treatment is supposed to mean anything. J-411 is not known as an arbiter of conversation, supposedly so that they may judge unobtrusively.

When something doesn't concern them, oddly, they answer that they, "don't think about it. u-u". J-classes are taught from a young age the virtue that is knowing everything about a case in order to judge it. On the contrary, J-411 just wants to know the bare essentials. The rest can be categorized as red herrings or pity points, prime for a paralyzing feedback loop of pros and cons. It is J-411's job to remain impartial, not to take responsibility. They don't cause anything. They just judge it.

The judge, J-411, is so very polite and so very neutral. J-411 never conflicts with higher authority.

But, they're still only notail, and the challenge that is concealing everything buds through.

Of their dislikes, the most obvious is anger. Anger, fumbling, and stumbling over words unwaveringly indicates a guilty consciousness in the eyes of J-411, for someone who is right could never be so rash. Even those completely disconnected from a case describe feeling guilty in J-411's presence. It's not difficult to understand why.

J-411's tone is depersonal and accusatory. It is not a law so ingrained in their character that they never break it, but given the chance, J-411 seems to practice an awkward and deliberate grammar: neglect any concept of self. Phrases are spun to include as little "I", and as little "me" as possible, but they'll bolster a generous dosage of "you". Alternatively, phrases reliant on first person pronouns shift from, "I am here" to a passive, "It is I" to avoid the third person from demolishing whatever careful persona J-411 had just built.

Like many things, the purpose of this isn't affirmatively known, but the faithless can guess: J-411 weaponizes imposter syndrome.

They're unashamed in vocalizing someone's suffering, as if they were jealous of it, protective of it, quantifying it. J-411 believes that they have a better understanding of someone's behavior than the person themself. A consciousness can never be fully aware of its own subconsciousness, they exercise, because that's the very nature of it. A hidden motive. That's why people need mediators. That's why people need judges. The only purpose of empathy is to better sniff it out. The only orderly state is suspicion.

This manifests as J-411's most defining truth:

J-411 is a coward.


J-411 will not be cold. J-411 will not be rude. But, J-411 will decline most requests to investigate their history. It is, "irrelevant until proven otherwise. u-u"

Parsings have been gathered from the few sources who knew J-411 in their youth, all prior to cutting their ties, as well as comments J-411 hid underneath the fluff of conversation. The signoffs of the following interviews have been omitted.

In the Beginning

J-411 had met three children a year into the woods. Their names are lost, but not their faces: a dragon E:, a lion {^v^}, and a goat --, the dragon the same age as J-411 but already draped in the trophy feathers of their once beloved monike. They were young, and their camp displayed unapologetically the signs of inexperience, impatience, and survival. The sheer number of children in their camp seemed to be the only thing that kept them alive.

We need a J-class. You would support us, wouldn't you?

J-411 agreed. They were always a shy kid. It was a natural progression, then. They had spent the year prior alone with their pegasus (a ponticorn with a fortunate wing mutation) observing other children from afar. Their pegasus had become the envy of the sky.

The camp amassed a great sum of goods from missions and trade over the years to come. The camp traveled deeper into the woods until it had expanded towards a riverside, the peak of the camp's growth. Across the river the land seemed to flourish with docile capture creatures, warmth, and safety. Crossing to the other side was the obvious choice.

"They rain into the trade center for supplies so fast they tripped on themselves. They only mentioned their plan in passing, but I could still tell. I warned them of the river's blessing. A heartbroken kid had summoned it a decade or so earlier. Only the 'pure of heart' could ever hope to cross it now. Who knows what that means."

In answer, they turned to J-411 and their pegasus. You take yourself as a knight, don't you? Wouldn't you be pure of heart? The dragon jabbed them affectionately. Perhaps they'd solve the river's riddle and break its spell. Or, at the very least, they could map the other side. The dragon gave J-411 their coat, the lion gave them a book and pen, and the goat gave them a saddle, one of the only saddles the camp had. The goat gently stroked the pegasus's wings before plucking a feather. It flinched, but stood calmly while the goat tied it to the start of a new coat.

J-411 left their camp behind the thickets and brambles.

"We didn't watch them... I can't tell you if they swam or if they flew."

J-411 followed the river upstream and realized that the other side was an island.

"I met J-411 when I was trying to find food. We were from different years, so I didn't know them right away. We made eye contact across the river. They were nice... they let me ride their pegasus, so I could find food on the other side, then I went back home. I thanked them, but I didn't think I'd see them again."

When J-411 returned, they slammed their map onto the floor for their friends to crowd around in a laughing dogpile, but J-411 kept quiet at any mention of solving the river's riddle. The lion had already prepared traveling supplies, and now assured of its worth, declared J-411's pegasus as their ferry service while they invested in seizing birds and other plans. J-411 became the strategist. They periodically assigned who would hop to and from the riverside in short trips. They amassed better supplies than their neighboring camps could ever dream of, all while the pegasus's back grew weak.

Go on another trip, won't you? Visit the half of the island none of us have seen.

J-411 had grown comfortable in their role. Of course they would explore! Once again alone and unburdened.

"When I ran into them again I didn't have enough time to be surprised. I was being chased by a group from downstream. I yelled at them if they'd help me cross, but I don't know if they heard me."

This time, J-411's welcome party was a barrage of burning, squealing, and rot. In their shock, they left their pegasus by the shore to search for the dragon, the lion, and the goat. Rain pounded and mud puddles from the river began encroaching on the camp. Seizing birds and thornheads brawled over fallen cabins while others guarded their supplies.

"Someone made a bad deal with another camp, then those three shitholes ditched us. I don't know what you want me to say? I don't know where J-411 went during it all. But they're here now, aren't they? Good for them."

When the rain ceased, J-411 and their three friends were gone, and their pegasus was found dead in the water.

In the End

Few could recall seeing J-411 until they graduated from the woods. J-411 had become a well-to-do field J-class. They were popular for having skills outside their primary class that one could call upon in a pinch, retained from brief encounters with I and Y-classes before they settled down. J-411 felt like a real ally (even if sometimes a little too formal or classy). They offered advice. They had a vivid, almost uncanny understanding of legal loopholes that they could guide others through. However, their tendency towards reclusion heightened. J-411 retired from field work after an accident raked off their legs, which they ignore, not aggressively but still pointedly, whenever someone draws parallels between this and I-42.

"J-411 was never great at holding out. They were strong, but easily knocked out if they didn't shield themself first."

Following the incident was J-411's first promotion, but not before they took a short time off to recoup and live on a fenced-in private property. The exact circumstances of their first promotion was poorly documented, but since then, J-411 has more or less backed up every consecutive promotion with well-documented performance that they've overseen personally. Now, J-411 serves one of the highest courts.

"You must feel honored."

"Indeed. u-u"

"Have you spoken to your friends since?"

"No. u-u"


Last Expedient: Despite their proficiency with medieval gimmicks, J-411 is a notail of modern taste. J-411 considers the P-class a valuable asset to the J and I-class alike and has commissioned several "spy gadgets" since their promotion, most notably a compact power-suit that lay dormant underneath their shield. While it has yet to be witnessed, theoretically, J-411 may strike a panic button that unfurls the power suit from the shield. Their regular gear vanishes underneath armor accented with tacky, cybernetic neons and glimmering metals.


• Like one would expect, J-411's hands are pretty familiar with a gavel. They are also familiar with a warhammer.

• J-411 has been caught gambling at intergalactic horse races more than once. Each account was written off as, "practice." J-411 had no further comment.

• J-411 seems to enjoy (or at least has made it a habit) inviting new recruits and colleagues to the stables fringing their property, one of their few public prides. J-411's home on the property is sparsely decorated and even more sparsely inhabited. The air conditioning is always a little too cold. Doors shut themselves and thin, ghostly curtains sway in the draft. But, it is notable that whoever decorated the home must've appreciated taxidermy as a motif.

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