#tritus

[tritusbane]

[tritusbane]

[tritus-is-gone]

I remember my dear Mami from the days of my youth. Many winters were spent in her stern care and yet beside her are where my most happiest childhood memories remain. Rosalina Was her name but for us... she told us to call her Mami. Ah... I remember how she always smelt of spices with a sharp note of embers. Subtle... yet nostalgic. She would cook us a meal every eve of a stew that tasted so comforting. My siblings and I would wolf it down as if someone else would dare to take it from our tiny little hands. Spoonful after spoonful, I swear even now I can just taste it... Smell it. Looking back at the short times we had together... I regret not spending more of our shared moments in the kitchen... Instead of playing outside in the black snow of the mountain... I should have learned to make that stew... Nothing I have tried tastes exactly like it... But then again, it is hard to make a dish so homely when the one who made it has already left us... Mami, my dear sweet grandmother, I understand now why you uttered those words to me. “Time waits for no one, Vitrailis... You must find your own answers but keep in mind every answer has its dues.” I had thought you were just spouting nonsense as you washed the dishes... I am 17 now Mami... I understand what I must do. I will make you proud, as proud as I am able. Time will not give me any leisure to dally any longer. I must take flight just as Papi did. Just as you did... and just maybe... That stew of yours... will start to taste the same even if it is made by my hands. Ooc: Made with Plotagon mostly as a visual map for faces and keeping consistencies. Art will be added at a later time.

[tritus-is-gone]

Tritus

Full Name: Tritus Vitrailis Zenier




Gender and Sexuality: Hermaphrodite. Bisexual




Pronouns: He/ Him




Ethnicity/Species: TBD. Humanoid




Birthplace and Birthdate: Copperfields. 11/15/*****




Guilty Pleasures: Playing Drunk Jenga with his Friends,

harvesting blueberries, pun-ishment competitions, standing on the rails of his ship when the winds are the roughest.


Phobias: The ocean. Being forgotten.




What They Would Be Famous For: Engineering feats/ Prosthetic advancements and overall temperament at bars.




What They Would Get Arrested For: Injuring someone in a bar for calling him "flower boy" or anything along those lines.




OC You Ship Them With: Wintress Polaris Borealis




OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Striker Elritch Xorla & Magnolia




Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Romance mystery




Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: The coffee shop meeting




Talents and/or Powers: Mechanical and innovative designing. Curiosity that borders on recklessness.




Why Someone Might Love Them: Silly, love driven, emotionally driven. Can be easy to connect to as he is a bit blunt in his conversations at times. Tries to be the best gentleman he can be, a dreamer through and through who is so ridiculously sweet you can get a stomach ache from it.




Why Someone Might Hate Them: Can be an ass when his beliefs conflict with what his partner wants, prideful, arrogant, and most certainly easy to anger/ irritate. Often throws fits in private and doesn’t seek out help from those he trusts, choosing instead to internalize it and use that drive to get work done. Does not face emotional challenges head on very well.




How They Change: From a thriving reckless innovator and alcoholic he gets his world turned upside down from impossibilities that become reality and force him to care more about his health with the simple carrot on a string: Family. Growing more aware of the times he spent trying to leave a mark on history, he focuses that energy mostly into being the father he never thought he could be. This becomes even more frantic when his body becomes ill, dealing with his own mortality had been easy before but after finding his offspring and lover he has to come to terms with a basic human greed: More time.




Why You Love Them: Of all the characters I love messing with Tritus the most because of his mentality. A youngster by his race’s standards who knows for a fact that he is going to pass before even reaching 100 years old and all he wants to do is live a life of excitement, romance, and adventure with a big old mark on the history books saying that "I WAS ALIVE". Hopelessly romantic and loves each partner he had with his all only to have one after another fall out. Then finding a woman who not only stole his wallet (she gave it back) but his heart at the same time. I love seeing how he reacts to situations, how he awkwardly attempts to mend the shattered relationship with his twin children and their mother. Not to mention how he grows to understand and work around their issues as a whole. That doesn’t even cover how much his unconditional love for his family affects them as a whole later especially when *cough*dastardlyeventslikekidnapping,assault,murder*cough* happen in untimely events. He is just a hell of a lot of fun to poke and prod.

[tritus-is-gone]

Accepting Reality

Blue and white cloth greeted her as she opened her optics, she had been in recharge and the fog from the sudden reboot vanished in an instant. Three forest colored optics instinctively gazed upwards, her blank expression making her look like a bewildered child. Deep fern hues met hers, the face frowning and aggressive, the sounds of metal weapons immediately surrounded her. Cold metal poked the back of her helm.

“Where is my daughter?!” A venomous hiss pierced the room. Another prod to the back of the head, a bit more force put into it.

Tritus sighed, “The more I come here, the more I’m starting to believe that this is the normal way to greet people.” The words escaped her lips before she registered what she had said. She stiffened as the blade tip pressed harder.

“Answer my question, Machine.”

“You all have green hair…. you must be her unit? Her family as she put it? Look. I’ve never met any of you before. But my designation is Tritus of copperfields. The uh… other Tritus- your daughter- and I have a complicated relationship-” a large hand latched onto her shoulder and spun the mini around to greet her Alts mothers snarling face.

“Bring. Her. Back. NOW!”

A frustrated sigh left her lips as she knocked the organic hand off her shoulders. Her servos seemed to disappear as she reached into her subspace causing the surrounding Dusk Borns to bring their weapons closer to her form. “Just listen to me briefly. She and I have an understanding, she gave me this in case I ever encounter you folks. So that you won’t kill me on sight.” Her servo visible one more gingerly clutching a black, orange, and emerald designed knife. “She said that this is only made for kin. She has given me half of her set. Now, can we please sheath the swords?”

Optics watched warily as the room filled with chatter, discussions, arguments. The swords around her did not waver, not even an inch. The man clothed in blue and white touched the top of her helm with a single finger tip. “Why should we believe that she gave that to you? You could have stolen it.” He rumbled.

Wiggling out from under his grip to glare up at him. Without a word she transformed into a 5ft gun. “Then tell me why, I- a gun, would need such an elegant knife? Hmm organic? Why would I come all the way here to steal a specific knife in order to pop up in front of what can only be described as an organic cult of organic blacksmiths? When I am a gun?! From another universe? The only reasons I come here is because my master requests to see my alt and I can be of service to the Queen.” The monochrome gun ranted.

Slowly weapons sheathed and the Dusk Borns gave her some space. “You have a temper little one. But you have a valid point. You may be too honest though, with your words.” The man in blue rumbled in thought. They watched her transform, a spectacle of interest to many of them, before whispering amongst themselves. Her Alts mother stared at her. “Is my daughter safe?… in that other realm? The one she often talks about.”

“I can only tell you that she lives… I believe she said your name was Silver. So, Matriarch Silver, I will only confirm that she has left an impressive impression on the army there, as well as captured a good amount of affection from my master and my vice commander. It would be pertinent to note that she also is a very good cook.” Tritus quipped back nonchalantly.

The woman seemed to relax a bit. “That is good, she is pregnant. We wish for her to carry safely… she has an ancestor with the same physical condition as her… she could carry but there were complications at birth… she did not make it through the ordeal.” Her voice lowered in worry.

“Your daughter is strong, I’ve heard high marks from my Vice commander. She will survive. It seems that she is very adept in that skill.” Tritus murmured before offering the knife handle to the woman. “As long as my master and her Queen are happy. We will continue this trade off of realities. I hope we can work together.”

“I think we will manage. Come dear. I wish to pester you about your form if I may.”

“Heh. She said you would say that. I will oblige but I ask that you send a message to the queen for me, alerting her of my presence. I would hate to miss any opportunities to be of assistance.”

[tritus-is-gone]

🔐

Green optics stared up at the shadowed form. “I’ll tell you one, shadow. And only one. I am one of 5 guns crafted. Two of us were considered flawed upon creation…. because our protoforms lacked arms. We were given redundant names as a result, they did not have high hopes of our performance rates. I am one of the two… my brother in arms was named Banal… I read that he passed due to His Vitality shots “the mini said optics dimming.

[tritus-is-gone]

Green hair splayed across the table in a half halo as lazy eyes spaced to her left. The table was quickly warming up under her squished face as she spazzed. Off duty today... nothing to do. She feels off... but the forge doesn't call to her. Neither does drinking... maybe she'll wander the town and see if there's anything worthwhile.... but she doesn't move. Sighing, she hefted herself lazily and dragged herself to the shower in her modest abode... perhaps the warm waters could offer her direction.

[tritus-is-gone]

“Care to play a game, Hunter?”