I see you've made your way onto this diddly darn dank meme that is my Deviantart! That part's pretty obvious, but what isn't as obvious is the kinds of art I make! Most of my stuff is either some kind of digital drawing, whether it's just a doodle or a polished thing, or it could be something I wrote. Taking a look through my gallery will show off the fact that I have a bit of an obsession with writing for my main series "Tales From the Cosmic Sea." However, even though that's most original and scheduled thingymabob, I still occasionally to write a fan-fiction here or there at random, and no I don't make "Reader x Character" shippings or anything. Anyways, I really hope that you enjoy my artwork and have a fan-diddily-tastic time!
Ps: There's a donation pool on the bottom left of the page. .o.
Across the long, multi-hundred meter platform they went, its width providing plenty of room for Nemesis to lead her army of automatons. The sheer altitude made the winds violently aggressive, at times it would even knock off of some of the buzzards, despite their ability to climb against abnormal surfaces. However, the droids merely flapped their artificial wings and gripped back into the tower-esque junction. The old, metallic surface beneath each step let out a drawn-out creak, almost as if the dead material could crack or snap away at any given moment, that even the wind that’s been slowly eroding away at its surface could break the free-fallen structure like an insignificant twig that had managed to become caught under the merciless foot of mother nature. Despite this, the doctor, as usual, ceased to show any sort of emotion that turned away from her intimidating determination.
The hive, along with its creator, soon approached the central spire, it being much thicker than the dismemberments that had been thrown ajar like branches, some hanging like dying leaves on a desert plant, others only kept on by the tubing, wires and machinery that was stored within. The base to the spire had been lodged into the ground that sat so far beneath, like a toothpick that had been slid into the center of a half-pound sandwich, only said toothpick had been old, decayed, and covered with rusted colors, along with tears to reveal its ultra-complicated intestines. The space station was obviously much taller than it seemed, as several secondary ducts - such as the one Nemesis traveled upon - had been forcibly pried from their core due to the puncturing of the planet; those pieces were overtaken by nature and bathed in vegetation
“Hm… My sense tells me that the artifact is left dormant in the spire’s pinnacle.” The broodmother’s eye had been drawn up the bullet-holed prong that extended vertically for at least another half-kilometer. “Let’s try something…” Nemesis murmured to herself, hand extending to face the pillar of old stories. The inner pupil of the shard-seeking woman began to illuminate itself in a voluptuous glow, igniting like a flare as flames of blue squares boiled and became vapor, a vapor of selfish intent. There was no outline in the frame, but the selection had been more of a gradual pulse, as if time itself began to lose logic and accelerate against the fallen pylon. Quickly, it began to corrode and rust away, chunks of metal losing their grip as they fell like unbolted shavings from an eraser of old, the center of the grabbed area aging faster than logically possible before falling off completely, creating a large hole that could easily fit a hovercraft. Around the hole was a formation of rust that almost resembled gunpowder, as if the gradual aging was a raging explosion.
“A hundred years in mere seconds... How fascinating...” The necromancer looks down to her appendage, rotating it as if the object were on a joint-based swivel. An egotistical grin contorts her once-flat lip - Nemesis had just discovered a new capability of her shard. “Interesting… Perhaps more research on this subject will be required, but I’ll save that for a further date…” The doctor had spent many years alone, only able to talk to her semi-sentient children; she definitely had gone a bit mad, at least, that's the only logical assumption she could make; ever sense Nemesis acquired her first shard, voices had spoken to her.
The inviting opening ultimately led to Nemesis’ entry, a few buzzards joined her as well, most of the army escalating up along the outer walls of the gigantic cylinder. The climb was lengthy and perilous, as the primary elevator pad had collapsed, leaving the eternally-gaping throat of the station to be explored by dust and debris whenever the opportunity had been given, as if it were some kind of ancient pipeline. The doctor stares up, there being only a small dot of light for her to focus on through the rusty metal and broken pieces of mass. While the tower of faded color may have been littered with holes of light that the blue sky from the outside world used to shine inward, the powerful beam of energy captivated Nemesis the most.
A painfully-wide smile crept its way onto the woman's face as she raised her palm once more, waving it like some kind of mind-broken magician. She was consumed in a blizzard of blue fuzz, particles of Lunar energy sweeping away as if her body was falling into nonexistent dust. Her wing-baring minions began to climb up the wide shaft as if it were a vertical mountain, saving the strength of their wings in case needed. From the top of the mole hole, Nemesis walked. She reformed just as how she vanished - silvery-blue bits and pieces of energy that seeped from her body, her disintegration being reversed in an abrupt light show. As her sudden transportation ended, so did the unnatural neon lights, leaving the large puncture atop the structure’s open orifice to act as a spotlight, the small bullet-holes in the walls bathing Nemesis in their own light.
The station had no quantities of power to hide behind the large sums of debris that had fallen over the years, leaving the open doors and downed pillars of metal to be sizzled and discolored by the bombarding heat of the local sun. The blue insignia and desaturated colors that had been engraved to the wall, along with the more sleek style of structuring indicated that the station most-likely belonged to the New World Harbingers at some point. Nemesis’ hand slowly wiped its index finger against a beam that had been propped up by a wall, coating her outer appendage in a thick layer of dust. She squinted and inspected the powdery substance, its brownish color spreading as she grinded the flattened underside of her finger’s end with her thumb.
“Hmm…” She openly hummed, curious about learning some minor lore behind the facility, as its contents were definitely something of value. Nemesis stepped closer to one of the doors, as the other few that were open seemed to have merely fallen to age, but this one was different; it looked as though someone pried it open, as if the gateway's right panel was closed and needed to be forced back into its wall-based slot. Filled with a fearless curiosity, the doctor stepped through the metal archway, her red eye acting as a dim flashlight. Her unveiled orb squinted as her hand made a series of odd gestures. The sounds of her crawling minions ceased to be, as if they all went into a spontaneous silence so that their creator could think to herself.
The doctor’s face took on an aggressive form, eye squinted and ready for anything. She slowly walked forward, ahead of her being lightly-pressed prints from shoes, which aside from the streak of opened doors, seemed to be her only indication that anyone had even been in the orbital station. The sound of her heavy, hard-soled footsteps clacked against the floor, heels tapping as the walking slowly amped-up its pace. Finally, the woman entered the piloting room, her old coat covered in debris and powder from the air. She inspected the room from the lowest portion, as the parallel sets of curved stairs along the left and right sides of the room lifted onto a secondary platform, which had a central set leading up to the third. Her translucent view moves from wall to wall, this room being especially dark, as the windows had all been covered with emergency blast shields.
Suddenly, a barrier of hard light forced its way into existence behind Nemesis’s back, it locking the door behind a field of blue that was rooted down by white branches of plasma. She looked over the shoulder and lightly rotated her torso, aggravation and gritting teeth both well-expressed on her flat-chinned face. “You know, this 'trap' of yours is quite underwhelming.” The humanoid machine turned back and looked up, as a figure began pacing forward from the captain’s seat, it’s hands both behind its head.
“Oh relax hun; I was just luring you is all!~” The voice was male and smug as all-hell, the chuckle he gave out afterwards only fueled the negativity in his introduction. The third platform was elevated only by four or five meters, so the stranger definitely lacked any kind of significant height advantage. However, Nemesis still took a defensive stance, making sure not to underestimate her enemy. The being opened his eyes, revealing a pair of blue irises: no second layer either, meaning that his vision was purely artificial. The two cyan rings were cut in half from the top under his eyebrows, then another chuckle escaped from the man's throat.
“So you’re the one that my client has checked-off! I must say ma’am, it’s quite the honor.~” He takes a bow, rolling his left hand out while the right remains at his torso. In the extended palm was a black box, the fact of both what it was and its contents made perfectly clear from the blue hue that emitted from the pod’s long windows. “Listen dear, I just wanna strike some conversation is all.~” The tone had become halfway-wispy; he wasn’t really threatened, nor did the man feel as though he was in any danger.
“Who are you and what are you doing with the artifact!” Nemesis rarely ever shouted; she usually kept her composure, but the fact that some powerless human had her godly treasure was more than an insult - it sincerely and personally pissed her off. “Tell me or I will kill you with my bare hands!” The man stepped forward until his feet were on the rip of the top stair.
“So are you counting each of those tentacles as a hand, or are you only referring to the one? Hold on, you're a...” The man jumped in excitement and leapt down to Nemesis, quickly getting in her personal space in admiration. “...They... They did it!” He was hysterical, joyful even, causing the doctor to cringe back in disgusted confusion. “I can't believe it! They actually made my android design into a full-scale production!” As the man childishly killed any form of disrespect, Nemesis’ eye opened as she gawked at the stranger's sudden shift in tone.
“Wait… What do you mean? I woke up in a desolate factory with only one other being! And what do you mean ‘your design’!?” The blue-eyed scientist’s back was arched as he stopped poking at the woman’s tentacles, looking up at her with large, open eyes.
“You mean to tell me...” His tone was that of a listless whisper, all emotion concussed with sheer awe. He stands firm and tall, still being about a hand shorter than the female. “Sweetie, I created you!" Nemesis went completely silent as the strange man took a step back, extending his right hand in an open greeting as the left went back down to his side, the black box still held with a firm grip.
“You may not remember or know who I am, so I believe it’s time we had a proper introduction…” His mind-piercing eyes fixated into Nemesis’ own, leaving her to stay in the bewildered state.
“The name's Vaauban, Vaauban Gallagher, and it seems like we have much to discuss.”
While their ship did bare a dining room-esque area, the crew usually ate in the hubroom, enjoying the television and couch with each other on a day-to-day basis. Davy always sat in the center of the couch, she was the captain after all. Her bowl of soup sat on the table, along with a few others, steam rising from its colored surface into the air before blending into the clear color of oxygen. To her right sat Jessie, his bowl in hand as the couch’s back comforted to comfort his own, his face expressing a small smirk of family-made pleasure. Over the couch to Davy’s left stood Melissa, leaning forward and peeking her head into the conversation; she never got directly into the group, nor did she ever communicate, but her odd inclusion was welcomed by everyone. Even though Elo was the newest recruit to the Homebound’s crew, he was given a spot to the captain’s left, he did make their breakfast after all, not to mention he was pretty handy to have nearby. The other two couch-sitters were Malksiv and Saarah, both managing to capture and control their seats by arriving before anyone else, well, Sarrah stole her spot when Jevvin went up to use the bathroom, but finders keepers. Around the coffee table on the old rug sat the rest of the crew: Jevvin, Sevv, and the remaining members of the crew, those being Edmond, Lexx and Sierra. The Sallav region had many odd qualities when it came to names, such as how birth-given tags in the region were often inspired by those from history books and how emphasized letters were usually doubled instead of accented; but not all abided by these rules, or at least all at once. Everything for the crew seemed to be going fine and dandy--but not everything in the galaxy is splendid.
“Have you been able to extract the necessary coordinates?” Nemesis stood in the bridge of her years-in-the-making ship, hand held behind her back with no other place to be. The woman’s missing limb had been replaced with mechanical tendrils, the muscle-shaped tubes of flexible alloy wiggling free from their previously-arranged shape in order to make up for the lost appendage. The members all swayed and squeezed around the available arm, acting on par to a trio of prehensile tails. The doctor stood in the center, glass windows across the round wall that deemed their room as the ship’s bridge. To the left and right were semi-symmetrical platforms, both lower than the center and bearing various pieces of machinery, all of which were necessary for the Timebound’s operation.
“Yes, Mother. The hammerdrive is in order as well. Shall we make the jump?” One of the various automatons that rested in a seat, coordinating everything that the ship does, turned to face its creator. The various droids were of the intelligent type, all of which being plugged-into and attached to their corresponding computers. From the center of the rounded portion stood the necromancer, her gaze peering through the green-tinted windows, their smudges and scratches not blocking view as Nemesis thought through the void, her reflection staring back at her through the faded casing.
“Then have the values transferred over to the ship’s modular region; this Shard must be acquired before our cloaking device wears off.” The stare never moved away from the window; Nemesis merely looked into the shadow of her blue-eyed worker. A blink briefly covered the droid’s artificial eye, curiosity getting the best of it.
“Mother, may I ask, just how did you acquire a device capable of cloaking your Lunar Polarity, and in-turn, us?” A short pause broke into existence after the piloting droid’s question, but it was soon met with an unamused response.
“Sweetie, you know how much Mother doesn’t like questions; at least you have a good one, so I’ll give a brief explanation.” Nemesis shared a sarcastically irritated tone as she turned back, hands still behind her, eye masked behind the upper-half of her intimidating eye. “The facility in which you were born in bared a device like ours, in fact, the current one in use is simply a refurbished branding.” She then turned back towards the glass.
“...” The machine paused itself for a few seconds, thinking before closing the eye and giving its creator a heavy nod. “I understand. Thank you for the explanation, Mother.” The doctor turned around and slowly strolled back down her elevated walkway, heading straight for the door in her formal pose.
“We have a severe lack in obtainable income, chronologically leading to empty funding; we must make due with whatever we have in hopes of achieving our goals.” The centered door split open from the middle, the two overlapping panels both sinking into their appropriate walls with swift speed. “I will prepare my pets for the latest harvest; make sure we arrive in close time.” Nemesis steps past the door frame, it snapping shut behind her like a pair of rubber-held pistons. The doctor traverses through her homemade craft, the walls of dusty steel-black and faded reds, along with green lights dotted across the hallway’s rim providing an ancient sight to be held by the woman. She passes many droids, some along and on-task, others walking in pairs and exchanging words as if they shared normal lives; every bot, however, still bowed for their creator, even if only for a second.
Everything jerked forward, yet Nemesis remained unphased by the sudden warp in reality. While relative weight had not changed, nor did gravity, everything seemed to feel lighter, at least physically. However, the doctor was still left careless towards the mind-bending anomalies. Not even the sudden breaks in outlines and sharp ridges of color were enough to bother her; she had something else care-taking the broken mind that was carried in her head. One of the hangar entrances opened, it being on the left side of the ship from where Nemesis walked. The room was pitch black, only to be filled with an array of a thousand white eyes. Each form, no matter how cracked or how damaged, all simultaneously turned to face their necromancer.
“My pets,” Nemesis began, her posture becoming even more firm than prior, “it would seem as though I am already in need of your assistance.” Just as the spikes of color returned to form and weight had been regained, a sudden lurch of force yanked on the ship as if a child had been tugging on its tail end. Again, the doctor was left unaffected by the abrupt change in space, even the mindless followers seemed to have no care towards it. A few of the beings crawled up to their creator, their heads tilted in a dog-like way; it could be considered cute, at least if they weren’t amalgams of robotic corpses. A smirk found its way along Nemesis’ face as she reached down to one of the round-headed pets, softly patting its head while lightly slouching her back.
The hangar door opened and bathed its contents with a powerful light, revealing a vast, rectangular platform that stretched for a good distance. Two minutes down was an oversized jungle, littered with shades of green and orange. The downed space station that Nemesis’ ship hovered aside was crafted from metal tubes and conduits the size of skyscrapers that stretched and connected for kilometers. “Hm...” The doctor pondered to herself while inspecting the colossal craft that rose in the air for thousands of meters, looking up and down to see that they were definitely closer to the top than the bottom. “Manual Four,” her voice echoed through the same built-in auditory device that she had used to communicate with Davy and co. while in the vacuum, said voice reaching the Timebound’s bridge, “I’m going to take the buzzards and find the package. You and the rest of the Manuals will fly over and rejoin us with the ship once the artifact is found. Understood?
“Yes, Mother. Shall we await for you in the skies or find a landing site? The shard can only keep the ship powered for another twenty minutes before an offline period is required; time is an irreplaceable resource that we wouldn’t want to waste.” The one remaining hand that Nemesis could say wasn’t made from inhumane appendages found itself along her chin, stroking the end of her jaw as she thought and pondered.
“Hm. I suppose you’re right, which in turn proves my previous statement correct…” Her one-eyed vision sways from one side of the hangar to the other, the hive of curious pets all looking to each other and their mother with innocently-curious eyes. “...But our search should only take a few minutes, not to mention your return would waste more time than if you just waited. Stay here and wait for further orders.” The Manual stuttered a bit, but trusted it's mother and coped with the decision.
“What is it?” Davy asked with a curious eye, staring down at the foreign object that her companion held in an extended, open palm. The chunk of metal radiated an otherworldly of aura, its beautiful light only ever seen from the similarly-colored star that their world slowly revolved around, it bring in the distance, much farther than its orange sibling. Her back was rounded and arched, face less than half a meter from the strange little piece of shrapnel that captivated her treasure-loving gaze.
“Well,” begun Nemesis, her cocky, flat-chinned face as smug and narcissistic as usual. “This little device just appeared one day! I believe you were asleep when the event occurred, but a beautiful pair of lights, one red and one blue, danced and cascaded in the sky above, engulfing the darkness in their magnificent glow. I have no idea what said lights were, but a few, tiny flakes of metal were left scattered across the sand; their auras that resembled this one made tracking a chore of ease.” The novice doctor’s smirk bared no teeth, merely lips that had pointed at their ends, sitting beneath an eye that’s upper half had lowered in a state of confident relaxation. Jones carefully pokes at the item with her right hand; the left counterpart had always been missing past the elbow.
“So how didja get them all back together?” The slightly-taller woman asks, her hair weaved into poorly-made dreadlocks, which Nemesis was still proud to claim as creations of her own. Davy tilted her head back, her wonder being fed to Nemesis’ ego with her beam of commensalism.
“Well I’m afraid that, as great as I may be, that doing was none of my own. Once I began to collect these flakes of strange matter, they miraculously combined to this thumb-sized shard you see here.” The bun-haired woman gave a light giggle, her shoulders wiggling with each exhale of slight force. “I plan on using this as a power source. I did some basic tests on this strange chunk of metal and it appears to generate ridiculous quantities of energy in ways I simply cannot understand. It’s as if the shard is capable of an energy transformation that my scientific books and etcetera have left unlisted…”
“Wait,” Davy interrupted, her pose quickly returning to its somewhat-formal posture. “Does this mean we c’n finally power the Homebound and leave!?” She looked to the other female with an eye that resembled its previous, wondrous state, only now the shard was a secondary cause, rather than a primary.
“And a mechanical crew too.” Nemesis began to stroll through the hangar-like factory, multiple machines and old vehicles of great size creating artificial walls and corridors for them to traverse through. “If you remember, you and I have been accumulating all the dysfunctional automatons of this odd place we awoke in, along with scraps of metallic materials in order to repair them with, correct?” Jones nodded in silent agreement as they traversed down one of the conveyor belts, eventually being led to one of the structure’s walls. They opened a door and were greeted with a short corridor, it splitting to the left and right in a “T” shape. “I believe that we can use this artifact to possibly revive some of the fallen droids that we’ve scavenged.”
“Ohh, so kind of like kids?”
“If you wish to word it that way, I guess beings of our mutual creation could be considered some form of kin.~” The pair approached another door and entered, revealing a storage room what had been spiffed-up over the past year or two. The wall that sat parallel from the door was made completely from a glass-esque material, its surface only scratched by the sands of the outside world; all punctures were small enough to be ignored. Atop a table sat a heavily-rebuilt droid, it’s right arm fabricated completely from scratch by the proud doctor, along with a good sum of bolted-on panels of discolored metal. “Now stand and watch the magic.~” Davy stood idle by the door, curious with what her partner was preparing to do. Nemesis hovered the alien item over the droid’s chest, the vein-like wires that ran through its joints and inner body all taking on a soft, translucent blue glow. From inside its trapezoid-shaped head appeared a dim glow, it being a saturated red, a white, diamond-shaped pupil being birthed from the center of the artificial child’s eye. “Woah… Davy, come here!” The doctor loudly whispered, her arm fanning for the pirate-lover to do so.
Reality punctured into the eyes of the modern-day pirate. She looked left to right; everything around all flowed back into mind. The room was dark and quiet; Davy was almost always the first of the crew to awaken from slumber. Her senses soon came to, and a sudden weight atop the captain’s body caved into her entire torso. Jones looked down, her morning view being the top of Melissa’s head, the flow of her desaturated purple hair carelessly strewn across the hammock. The silent woman peered across the bunkhouse-resembling room, curious in which her metallic worker had gone off to after noticing the obvious remains of his bed. She quietly slipped out from beneath her rival’s oddly-protective grasp; Melissa was a heavy sleeper, so Davy had no large need to worry of her sleep being torn away. The undergarment-baring magician sat in the stretched hammock in an odd pose, a pose that should have been extremely uncomfortable with its ragdoll-limp limbs and randomly assorted appendages, but that only further proved just how difficult interrupting a wizard’s sleep was.
Slowly and silently, her tiptoed exit began, tiny step by even tinier step in order to leave the room. The captain, after a perilous journey of constant suspense and minuscule creaks in the floor, finally made her escape. “Ahh…” A sigh escapes from the human’s throat as she carelessly slides down the door and drops to the floor. Further down the corridor, the sound of stirring pots and metal clinks were birthed. Davy poked her head from the side of the archway, the ship’s kitchen not having any sort of door to conceal it, not that a door was really necessary in the first place. She stares down at the engineer as he made an attempt to cook some basic soup, which seemed as though it was much harder for the bot than it should have been. She took note of the giant plates of metal in the bot’s left arm that had folded into railing. Elo had never made created an invention of his own on such a scale before, the largest thing he made was just the ship’s video feed, at least to the one-eyed woman’s knowledge.
“Hey…! Shorty…!” She loudly whispered, voice masked by the sounds of various utensils and pieces of silverware takking against the metal pot. The bot responds with a slight jump, his actions ceasing as vision turns to the woman.
“Oh, Miss Davy, it’s just you.” He sighs in relief, but was quickly cut off by the cat-minded woman.
“What’re ya’ doin’?” The wispy voice fused each of Davy’s words together like a ghost who wishes to mimic wind, but was terrible at doing so. The pot of broth bubbles, it being your basic meat-broth-and-vegetable soup, the specifics held captive beneath the watery surface. While basic, the smell was actually somewhat-decent.
“Oh, I’m uhh, just making soup?” The prepositional ending to the sentient-class droid’s sentence made him seem confused, but then again, it was pretty weird that a mouthless robot was making food so early in the morning. “I wanted to try helping out more, you know, for all that you guys have done.” Davy relaxed and left her head-only spot, giving a morning smile to the automaton as he pulled a fresh loaf of bread from an oven, the steam seeming into the metallic pipes above.
“Well, I s’ppose I can’t stop ya, but where’d ya gett’it?” Her hands made weak fists that both rested upon the toned pirate’s hips, her visible eyebrow lifting with its lid.
“Oh, well, since I’ve been living here and not at home, I’ve had a lot of extra money from your paychecks.” Davy smiled but instantly jumped in surprise.
“Wait, I’ve been payin’ ya?” Her closed lips drop closer to her chin and her jawline lowers.
“Well, Jessie has, but since I’ve been getting cuts from each mission, something which wasn’t issued in my contract, I figured I’d show my gratitude by giving something back to the crew, even if it’s just a basic meal. Jessie’s like, a way better cook than me anyway, but you know how it is.” A fleshy, right hand grabs Elo’s left shoulder as he looks back down at the pot, attention immediately being captured once again. She stared down with a sentimental eye, a light shine reflecting from the ceiling lights. Her face wasn’t motherly, it was too open and up for opportunity, in fact it seemed to be some strange, tamed form of excitement. Elo’s eye began to water, despite any function of the sort; he was prepared to hear something sentimental, something that only Davy could teach.
“Y-yes?” The bot’s hope raised as his shoulders tensed up, preparing to indulge in some kind of lesson, that was until the woman’s eye and emotions all relaxed into a semi-smug expression.
“Jessie’s the bes’ cook around.”