Been a while since I made one of these posts. I guess I'm at the end of a journey here. I've spent three years attempting to develop connections. I became more confident, experienced, and hardened. I'm seeing the power my words carry, and the chaos my voice can bring. I've overestimated my attachments to people, as well as underestimated their attachments to me. I've risked my reputation, my secrets for people who were never worth it, even though I knew they weren't. It's gotten a little easier for me to see who people are now. I've opened myself up to the dangers of the world more for the sake of just trying to fit in it.
I used to think that if I wanted to be with someone I couldn't, then I could at least try my best to be their friend. I know now that can never happen. I have seen both sides of that story, almost three times over. It never works.
I live in a world where groups of people who together spend hours of the day, every week, every month every year facing the same challenges, making the same wage can never truly be friends. The risks of true friendship is not something anyone touches. Perhaps they never did.
have you played/read/heard about Lancer? maybe it's my limited experience with space opera, but when reading Habitat it reminded me a bit of Lancer and the Union. I get that your whole thing is small scale stories taking place in a wider setting, but I'd be interested in knowing more about that wider setting. The Euhumans, the uploads, the robo-church in Rome (is there a robo-pope?). Are there aliens?
I HAVE heard of Lancer - I had the distinct pleasure of doing a bunch of illustrations for the first book (I think it was) back when it first came out, and frankly they are still some of my best sci-fi illustrations yet! Here, i'll post em up here:
But, I digress.
In terms of the wider setting of the Griz Grobus/Habitat universe, I'm trying to slowly expand the world so readers can form a bigger picture of everything. But I recently cooked up a sort of lore megapost, over on my patreon, which I've made open to the public.
In the post, I dig into a little bit of the background - the roots of the "euhumanist culture" that settled most of the universe, the posthumans they destest, and where the apostolic church fits into things... Take a read here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/brief-but-about-87488764?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link
But I'm keeping lots of the details vague - not just to keep the world open, for readers to imagine their own version of things, but to give me room for improvisation, should inspiration strike!
Thank you for the question, and I hope you enjoy the linked lore post!
Hippa TombTongue, the barbarous half-orc philosopher drug addict hunting for answers of true strength in face of industrial colonization.
Hippa TombTongue is a barbarous half-orc nomad of the isolated Dhy Shtarken Orc tribe.
His people once believed that strength was all there was, that the strong were meant to rule and revel, the weak to be guided to strength or to wither. Strength can only feed on strength, strength can only love with strength, the spirit can only wallow with the hippo god Grawl in the mud of ground foes with strength.
But such strength proved futile in the face of the colonizing force of SootheSaint, an industrial herbal corporation. With not a breeze of violence, SootheSaint completely conquered the Dhy Shtarken with coercive drugs, reducing them into a local working force.
Born in the twilight era of the old culture, Hippa Grabzunge would leave his ruined homeland in search of spiritual answers to his confusion: How could strength fail and is there something truly beyond it? Was Grawl still with them, or were they abandoned?
Despite being initially trained as a marriage priest, Hippa would become a travelling combatant and wildman, relying on his impressive-to-outsiders size to fight and intimidate. Though focused, cravings for the SootheSaint herb would drive him into impulsive decisions, usually violent.
Recently escaping Rakshasa enslavement with the given name Hippa TombTongue, the half-orc lumbers into the city state of Baldur's Gate in hopes of locating the heart of SootheSaint and gaining his bloody answers.
Here, in its entirety - "HALE-BOPP", a comic drawn back in 2017 for my patreon. Set in the far future, it tells of the Hale-Bopp Dyson tree, the hive men who reside within it, and some extraterrestrial vacuumorphs who attempt to take up residence alongside them.
This story, and more like it, will be coming to kickstarter as part of a sci-fi comic collection called "A Star Called The Sun"... so keep your eyes peeled for it...
"A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS HIVE PARASITE" (2022), a story of a lone artist, attempting to carve out a space for himself in a vast, unfeeling hive...
This tale is one of the main ones you'll be able to enjoy in the deluxe hardcover book I'll be kickstarting next month, "A STAR CALLED THE SUN"! The pre-launch page is now open, so be sure to sign up to be alerted when the campaign goes live!
Today I learned the price of commitment. Commitment to a friend, to a group of friends, to an opinion.
Commitment is isolation, or rather the risk of it. It's taking sides so that others know they don't stand alone. It's the risk of joining someone on a deserted island, hoping they don't leave just as you get there, trading places. It's the risk of speaking people's minds, their worries, at the hope that they don't just deny them and make a fool out of you. It's when you agree with them in a conflict, hoping they don't just point to you as the real source of it.
Commitment is frightening. It's paranoia inducing. It's shame creating. Despair making. It's no wonder I tried to avoid it so much when I was younger.
Yesterday I may have lost a friend because I didn't commit to them. Now I must commit to the two other people, who I am trusting less and less.
Two days ago I got confronted for the opinions I committed to expressing, because many others felt them and couldn't say them. I had my reputation and grades subtly threatened, told their allies were listening to me, told to be quiet. Now I must choose to listen, or spread word of what happened.
At the end of the day, it's a roll of the dice if whether it was all worth it. If it will be worth it.
I can choose not to commit, but when I give no commitment, all I get is nothing. I'm not going back to the nothing.
The Ghost Buckeye (Junonia prosopon), descended from a species driven to extinction by urbanization and habitat loss, has evolved specifically to ward off humans.
When intimidated, they display the uncanny face-like patterns on their wings. The image it creates has inspired many legends about unearthly distorted creatures, and has consecrated entire areas of forest as haunted.
The term fairy covers a large swath of beings and in some cases clear delineation between species and their classifications hold only ephemeral standing. Imps are a prime example of this. While classified under fairies, the Imp has also been labeled as a lesser demon.
The Imp comes in a vast array of shapes and sizes. Two of the species catalogued here is the Corpse Imp and the Owl Bellied Imp. Primarily an earth or fire elemental you will commonly find them dwelling deep within cave systems.
Much like the pixie, Imps are known for their mischievous nature verging on malicious in some cases. With that, it is not uncommon to find them as the familiar for darker forces. Should a being win favor of an imp, they will server their master dutifully, even at it’s own expense in some cases.
The term “witch” is colloquially used for any number of magical practitioners. From fairy witches, troll witches, and most commonly human practitioners of the magical arts. However the “True Witch” is not human at all but a member of the Annis family which includes a multitude of varying species. Arguably the most notorious and widely known member of this genus is the Green skinned True Witch. Their aggressive nature and proclivity for darker arts has widely informed much of the world’s view of both True Witches and witches alike.
Their “witch hat” is actually a horn that grows over time and denotes rank in their coven. Should the Reverend be struck down from their position their horn is broken by the new leader.
The Green Skinned True Witch lives under a strict caste system of subordinates and their sole Reverend leader. A coven can be as small as two, which are typically absorbed by larger surrounding covens, or as larger as 50. Older, stronger Reverends are able to command such a brood but heavy is the crown who wears it as their reign is fleeting. Should a formidable member of their coven, or an outside witch, seek the position, it is a battle that in many cases ends in a sole survivor. Should the opponent or reigning Reverend survive, they are typically cast out. The victor will keep the defeated’s horn as a symbol of their power
Hey guys i’m not dead ∴ ω ∴ i come bearing an offering of Critter
This is an alien organism i've had drafts of for a long time now, and only now have i really properly done anything with it. Enjoy :)
To explain this animal properly, first i need to explain where they come from.
The planet they live on is freezing cold and essentially entirely ocean, with the surface of the sea separated from the open air by several kilometers of thick ice. the sea itself is warmed completely independently of the sun, relying entirely on geothermal activity (eg hydrothermal vents) to remain habitable. It is completely pitch-dark, with the only light coming from the odd bioluminescent organism of which there are few, as most animals don't even have eyes.
The Ramosapod (sometimes referred to as an "octospider" in common English) is a large aquatic alien invertebrate native here. They had initially adapted for an ambush predator lifestyle, hiding amongst rocks and clutter waiting for an opportunity to strike. However, as hydrothermal vents became more common across the planet and available energy increased, they began to orient towards a more social, intelligence-based lifestyle.
They have no ears and are basically blind, instead they mostly rely on smell and vibration to get around. Almost all of their languages are forms of tactile sign spoken with the tarsal bulbs tapped against another's body in a sequential order.
Their reproduction is similar to that of ferns seen on Earth, with a sequential alternation of generations (please look this up i can't explain it here) based on how many pairs of chromosomes are present. The sporophyte generation is the one pictured above, with the gametophyte being much smaller, almost microscopic pelagic animals.
As it stands, they have now built a reasonably sophisticated society for themselves across their freezing pitch-black ocean, with technology almost entirely derived from living organisms selectively bred or genetically engineered for specific tasks. Currently they're attempting to develop and fund the means to begin drilling through their extremely thick ice layer, to take a peek at what's up there.
Not many see it being particularly viable, however. We shall see.
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