Got a bee in my bonnet to make a fake Tales From Beyond the Fringe cover a while back and finally got around to finishing it! It’s not quite as, um, interesting and dynamic as the real covers, but EHHHHH. take my garbage TAKE IT
was gonna upload this with a lil blurb to accompany like the ones in game but i can’t think of a scene to write abt yet. maybe later on! Stay tuned ...........
(Thanks again to @court-royal / @datela-vodenit for the help with the logo font! ;___ ; u saved my life fr)
been plinking away at more ref sheets over the past few months trying to see if i can work up some kind of barebones sort-of-template so maybe these can be a commission option someday???? like a long time from now LMAO
as im looking at them right now, at this Very Moment, im remembering that i wanted to put personality before battle style PFFFF, FAILED STEP 1. I think i like that palette bar on orfreya’s though. will probly keep that.
doo dee doo should probably integrate backviews, too. lots of tweaking to dooooo also the text is SUPER ROUGH DRAFT LOREM IPSUM DONT LAUGH LOL
i love these dumb kids so much why do they have more story than my OCs sdfnsjkffd
A3 for the expression meme thing. been plinking away at this all day and now im just gonna call it done wheee
these are supposed to be just expressions but with recent rp developments i felt like going further ????? because i hate my child apparently
this is probably one of the only things that would cause him to make that face. worst nightmare time. even though i didn’t replicate the expression perfectly idk whatev itried.png
((In trying to fill out Majro’s backstory a bit more, I’ve been thinking about Troxog more than usual lately. trying to find his voice, figure out what he’s like. dunno why i’m even bothering really lmao but here have some writing anyway I guess????))
"...Y'got yer orders. What're ya doin' still talkin' ta me?"
"But... b-but, sir! I don't think that's--"
"Slag off my frequency and get ta work, already."
A stammering reply attempted to ramble across the line, but fell silent before completion as Troxog jammed a finger downward against the keypad.
The communication interface disappeared, and the granok was again alone with his thoughts in the darkness of the cramped bridge, illuminated only by the light from countless screens around the room. Each flickered intermittently with updates on a camera feed, or scrolling walls of text with accompanying images. Hooded orange eyes flicked from one screen to another, his head giving a nod every so often. He abandoned his cigar into a nearby ashtray and leaned back in his chair. The sharp creak prompted a sleepy growl of acknowledgement from a scruffy chompacabra snoozing nearby amidst papers and discarded boxes of varying sizes. When no commands followed, the toothy creature returned to its slumber.
Troxog continued to regard the screens with growing disinterest, leaning his cheek against the knuckles of a gloved hand. He was about to rise to his feet and attend to business elsewhere on his vessel when a repetitive chirping sounded, and one of the screens nearest to the center of the array displayed a request to open communications. He allowed himself a small grin as he took note of the caller.
"Finally decided ta report in, did 'e?" He muttered with a shake of his head. A few taps at the keypad, and the chirping ceased.
"Thundermaker," the voice on the other end, gravelly in a distinctly granok fashion, sounded somewhat distorted by the less-than-stellar connection, "'Trust ya got the package I was sendin' over?"
"Yeah, I got it." As he replied, Troxog tapped another of the screens to his right, and scrolled down the text displayed on its face, "... eventually. Yer delivery was almost a full day late."
"I... yeah, 'bout that." The voice on the other end suddenly took a fearful note. In a bid to fill the ominous silence, the voice continued, "We ran into a little, uh... turbulence on the way to ya, y'could say. Nothin' we couldn't handle, a-and nothin' really happened, don't gotta worry about that---"
"I ain't worried." Troxog guffawed, amused by the man's audible concern, "Anyone wants what I got, let 'em come an' get it." He paused a moment on one weapon in particular at the bottom of the list, the lengthy paragraph of specs causing an eyebrow to lift in interest, "If it wasn't such a good haul, I might have somethin' to say about yer timin'. But I'll let it go, this time."
"Appreciate that, bud."
"Pleasure doin' business with ya. I'll be in touch."
"... 'Fore ya go, I got one more thing for ya. Might make up for missin' my deadline."
"Hmm?"
"Ya heard about SSL's newest acquisition?"
Troxog went still for a moment, mentally sorting through the tangle in his mind. So many acronyms scrolled across his array over the course of a day that ascribing this one to its source took him a bit longer than usual. A moment later, it dawned on him.
"Yeah? Rich bitches bought out another underwater startup?" He snorted, "Must be nice ta have that kinda cash t'throw around, eh?"
"I hear that, brother. Heh. Sent ya a report on the whole thing. Might find it enlightenin'."
".... hrm." Troxog tilted his head, searching for a screen near the bottom of the array, "I'll give it a look."
"Take it easy, pal."
The comm went silent once more. Troxog found the screen he'd been searching for, genuinely curious what his contact could have found. He was a fellow merc, a long-time source of information that he knew he could trust; they had given each other numerous lucrative leads in the past, so he had no reason to be suspicious. But what about SSL's acquisitions could interest him?
He got his answer upon reading the headline. A low whistle escaped him.
"I'll be damned. Aphelion went under?" He mused, "How'd I miss this? Kept it mighty slaggin' quiet." He scrolled through the uninteresting details of buyout prices, Aphelion's former mission statement and the company's vision going forward, until his eyes fell upon a sentence near the end of the article.
"Many of The Initiative's employees were given the opportunity to resign their positions before being terminated from the company. SSL will be replenishing the staff entirely with their own personnel, and training is to begin in the next few weeks."
This was what his contact had wanted him to see. Two pieces became one in his mind, and a bellowing laugh erupted from him. Such mirth would have astounded any of his associates in earshot; even the chompacabra again roused from its sleep to cast a confused look towards its owner.
"Looks like the tree slank's finally out of a job. 'Bout damn time."
