#rhemido

[miss-dhalgren]

Chimby.

[miss-dhalgren]

Dead Concept Boy.

[miss-dhalgren]

Chimney, and another postcard I made, this one was of Dinze.

[miss-dhalgren]

Chimney, my noseless murder-child.

[miss-dhalgren]

It looks okay, if I use the Tablet for the framework and draw darker lines with the mouse...

[miss-dhalgren]

Gun Salute

They swamp through space like the grandest of boar: Powerful, ugly, and dignified were the Rhemido kettlebacks - each hull a roughshod quilt of repairs, aged metal, and scarred slag. 

Cold sweat beaded upon the crew’s faces as the boar bared its proverbial tusks, the many tankheads of its gun-covered silhouette slowly turning to train upon us until, at last, they raised and fired. 

Saluting guns-! They were greeting us, in thunderous form!

Our Captain hailed them on open freqs, elated. “Rhemido Fleet, Compressor Ship ‘Slow Doberman’ - We see your teeth, and they are beautiful!” “’Slow Doberman’, Warship ‘Pagan Sword’ - We are your regional security today. If distressed, please advise. Out.”

For all the bitter politicizing afoot, we truly felt safer with them around. Yes - Rhemido’s Sibling Tyrants surely had their own motives for putting them here, but in the lawless corners of space aboard an unflagged tanker, this was what heroism looked like. 

We lit our siphoning pennants and parked nebula. In moments, we were bottling gas untroubled, safe within the Crowned Maw’s teeth like baby alligators.

Hail the Sibling Tyrants! Hail Rhemido - For a Thousand Years!

Or at least the next seventy-two hours, or so...

[miss-dhalgren]

What if Chimney worked for Godhead Industries? ... I have just completed Cruelty Squad.

[miss-dhalgren]

Deployment Sketches, Part 001!