#temmie bobbin

[cloudbattrolls]

Temmie’s an idiot but she’s a 6′6 idiot built like a tank. next to her for comparison is Sochet. trying to do tank that’s more broad than fat vs. not broad but chubby, in terms of builds to practice. 

[shin-the-loser]

Tem having a case of the Feels™ is me though.

So this is kind of an intermission comic in between round 3 and the last round of Reconnaissance. I was hella bored and was like, let’s read Lavida’s character sheets so I can cheat and know what her character is like. Long story short her and Bodi, aside from both being little jerks, have people waiting for them at home. And Character Development has to hurt sometimes so.

Someone remind me to post this on Deviantart later. But I probably won’t until after the round 4 prompt is released unless one of the Recon nerds ask me to. Y’all all nerds.

I’ve been trying a couple new styles for comic making. Thinner lines for word bubbles (they’re still really lumpy :/) and I may start trying to use panels more freely. Also the writing is somewhat legible now. Turns out you can make your handwriting a font!

[shin-the-troller]

@cloudbattrolls asked me to make a tumblr-friendly version of one of my round 3 pages for Recon, so here you go! I’ll add a link to this and the other parts too so if anyone is interested they can read the round from the intermission onward.

Intermission between Round 2 and 3: http://shinjuju.deviantart.com/art/Reconnaissance-P3-Intermission-616993402

Round 3 Part 1: http://shinjuju.deviantart.com/art/No-Going-Back-Reconnaissance-Oct-R3P1-646796854

Round 3 Part 2 (This): http://shinjuju.deviantart.com/art/No-Going-Back-Reconnaissance-Oct-R3P2-673204497

Anguil, Temmie and the Bison thing belongs to the aformented Cloudie, Satare and Twitch belong to @iskrowrioutha and I own Hookhorns mc Stupid

[cloudbattrolls]

Dis-Moi Pourquoi

HSC Egret || Present Day

You enjoyed that way more than you should have, and it irks you like fury. How did that stupid seadweller get you to do that?

Why did you enjoy it?

They just want something. What, you don’t know, but you’ll figure it out. Nobody chatters to a helm like it’s nothing. You make sure anyone who doesn’t treat you like what you are is squashed. It always works.

Why not on them? Why didn’t you just tell them to go fuck a cactus? Or something.

Because they thought it was funny. They acted like you were normal. Stupid useless idiot. They’re just laughing at you. That’s it. 

So why did you like it?

The movie. The movie, the movie, it was just the movie, it was just -

You scream, and it echoes around the engine room. 

Fuck this.

You send a message to Temmie’s screen, blazing in huge blue digital letters. Hiking up the drama is the only way to get her attention.

WE NEED TO TALK.

Sure enough, you hear the click of her boots before you smell her cloying perfume, see her stupid face. 

“Birdie, I was busy with a lady.” She says, twirling a strand of hair. “You better have a real good reason!”

“I’m sure you were.” You mutter under your breath. You’ve seen and heard enough from Temmie and her ladies (sometimes men) enough times to make you shut off your cameras in that room and try to summon enough of your digestive system to wretch.

“Put my emotional inhibitors back on.” You ask, teeth gritted. “Please.”

She blinks at you and you hate her, you hate her dumb, slow expression of amusement that seeps across her eyes and the twitch of her mouth like you’re the best joke she’s ever heard.

“Birdie boy, that’s so not fun! Don’t you like being free to be sad and happy? Most ships aren’t so lucky, you know!”

Even Atarem deserves death less. But you keep on a pained smile, though it’s only a few fangs away from a threat.

“I shouldn’t have them off at all. If Anguil ever caught you, he’d...not be happy.”

You’re not actually allowed to say threats to her face. She says it gives off too many negative vibes. 

“Psh, Anguil!” She says, sticking out her tongue. “He doesn’t care. He gave you to me! You’re so mean for wasting my time, I’ll amplify your emotions! Stop being such a jerkity jerk jerk.”

You start thrashing - as much as you can thrash anymore - in your wire, and she frowns.

“What are you dooooooiiiing.” She whines. “I don’t want a technician in here! Don’t damage anything! You’re so bad tonight. It’s not funny.”

If she gets a technician in, they could fix it. They could fix everything she’s done. They might even report her. 

A shock runs through your wire, and you’re forced to stop.

Temmie clicks her tongue in disapproval, hand hovering over the control panel and the handle she just pulled.

“No, no, no, bad. Naughty!”

She walks up to you and puts her hand on your cheek, cold to cold.

“Hush now, birdie.”

You hang there, mute, and Temmie frets and fusses, over your hair and your face and your ears. 

“Did you want attention?” She asks, shaking her head sadly. “Birdie, birdie, birdie. Just ask! We can always play games. You make me be mean to you like this, and I don’t want to. You just don’t understand how lucky you are.”

She walks away.

You put yourself in hibernate.

[cloudbattrolls]

My internet went down last night shortly after I got home, and then I passed out anyway, but I drew Temmie in a typical Flora recruit outfit. Flora is all about cooperation and how well each of its programs works together, so lower-level uniforms are meant to all look more or less the same because it’s not about you as an individual (even if you’re a highblood) it’s about how well you work with your team. Which is why Temmie only has her color present in her symbol and her shoes, and her proctor’s color on her collar and seam.

[cloudbattrolls]

Exeunt, Unpursued

There is a vastness to space no troll words can really do justice to. None of Alternia’s languages are equipped with the depth of feeling the darkness - with its tiny spots of light - can inspire in those who pass through it, flecks of feeling and wonder on an unfathomable tapestry of void.

Space was really fucking big and Egret was annoyed by that.

Not that anyone could see his snarling face, alone in the helmscolumn of his ship - rather, the ship that was him. Pink wire bound what was left of his flesh to the metal and plastic, the carbon-fiber and the organic compounds. One could not function without the other.

He could have put himself in stasis to while away the perigees of endless travel, the wiring in his thinkpan taking care of all the regulation automatically, though of course the captain could wake him up at any time. Probably would if she was bored.

Not that Temmie was there. For once, the ship was empty, anchored to a station in the distant reaches of the Empire where trolls spoke and looked strangely, hatched from mother grubs only distantly descended from the Alternian kind. Egret thought they looked like gross mutants, with their big eyes and long fingers. Better off dead if you asked him.

Not that anyone ever did.

Hello, Egret.

He bristled, shoulders moving what little they could under the constraints of biowire as his snarl became even more pronounced, sharp blue blood teeth prominent. His psion’s eyes sparked with hate and - his ears pinned - fear.

I’m so glad I finally found you.

She had to be dead. Maroons didn’t live long, especially scum rebels.

But there was no troll physically present, and he didn’t recognize the digital address messaging him. He couldn’t even trace it. He was a technopath.

And so, after she’d stolen his psi, was she.

Time to come hive.

His engines started against his will. He howled as his psi flared yellow, the ship zapping into the vast expanse of space, leaving nothing behind but a few sparks.

—

“Ma’am, your ship took off without warning. This will incur a fine.”

Temmie looked up blearily from the recuperacoon she was sharing with a dozing troll she’d had quite a few drinks with last night.

A troll in the uniform of the docking authorities was twitching his ears irritably at her, but he was only teal, so she bared her fangs back. How dare he disturb her? It was impossible for Egret to leave without her activating him.

“Did you activate it remotely, ma’am?”

The odious teal had taken out a notebook and wasn’t even looking at her. Temmie slipped out of the sopor, careful not to disturb her partner, and crossed her arms, glaring down at this short, weedy man who dared interrupt her for complete nonsense.

“Nooooo! This is stupid! Where’s your manager? Egret CAN’T have just skipped off! He’s mine! No one else has the key.”

The man blinked at her.

“Follow me, ma’am.”

Ten minutes later, washed and dressed, the cobalt gaped at the empty space where her ship had been.

“Whaaaaaat...”

“Stolen, maybe.” grunts the teal, scribbling more on his pad. Temmie glares at him, even more so that he doesn’t seem to care she’s doing it at all.

“Egret is a technapp - technopop - he controls machines! He’s literally unhackable, and he’s authorized to retaliate if someone tries to steal him. This is goofy!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Says the teal in that dry voice. “You still need to pay that fine.”

Growling, Temmie picks him up with a hand around his neck. His eyes merely roll in annoyance.

“Going to be a larger one if you cull me.” He says, despite the chokehold muffling his voice.

She drops him in disgust and the teal lands with a smack on the scuffed station floor, still seemingly unfazed.

She needs to call the boss, and oooh, he won’t be happy. He better not blame her. It’s the dockworkers’ fault for being so lazy!

Temmie Bobbin grits her fangs as she takes out her palmhusk, mentally rehearsing how she’s going to tell Anguil Volant he just lost his best helm.

[shin-the-loser]

So this is page 2 of my Round 3 comic for Recon. Wow that sentence is messed up. I forgot to post it when it was finished originally, but Cloudy wanted me to post it for something so here you go nerd.