Three commissioned pieces from this year from the amazing @kiqo-gw2-corner! A pride sketch of Devika ( @guildwuff2 ) and my gal Valora showing off their flag, a sketch page of my fluffy Chronomancer Zexx and his partner Yitu ( @kiqo-gw2-corner )being adorable, and an absolutely stunning full color piece of my celestial druid, Seffi, meditating! Thanks again Kiqo for all this awesome art!
[[ Following All of Zexx’s stories found at 1, 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 ]]
Weak were the eyes of the mage as her shaking hand raised and ran down her face, smearing what dust was left of the hearthstone in her hand upon it. Tears mingled with the dust, grime, and blood as she looked at the female dwarf before her, trying to gather her thoughts and who these people were. There was nothing she could focus on besides the deep cutting ache in her chest that far overpowered her more physical wound. Zexx had sacrificed himself, at least she thought, to save her.
One hand now clutched the arrow in her stomach and the other her tabard and tattered armor over her heart. Choking sobs suddenly erupted from the woman, and all around her seem to spin as a few dwarves and humans began to try to urge her from her spot, feeling as if she were dying of her grief instead of the grievous wound in her belly. Luckily she was too weak to protest as they carried her to a bed. With mutterings of her sorrow upon her tongue and that of her ‘father’s’ name on her lips, all went black again.
Three days later----
A hacking cough filled the air, sounding distant and detached though it belonged to her. Slowly the lids of her eyes began to open and flutter, blurring the world into a vague existence around her. “Zexx...” she croaked out softly into the air, hearing some tunneled and underwater sounding version of a dwarven woman’s voice, “She’s wakin’ up, lads! Ya better bring me tha’ soup!” There was a pause and some far off scrambling about what place she was in as Lumen fought to keep herself awake. “Sssh, sssh, dearie.” Gwenna offered her, feeling hurt in her own heart at the sound of that name. “I’m sure Candell is jus’ righ’ and dandy. Sssh.”
Lumen lost sight of her surroundings and all sound escaped to darkness. She had to wake up, make herself fight off the poison that was slowly being eradicated from her bloodstream. She was lucky to be alive, and she knew it. The only person she had to thank for that was Zexx Candell. The twist of pain and ache in her chest caused to her jolt violently awake, coughing again as she felt a cold sweat upon her forehead. Things around her seemed clearer, if only by a fraction. She could at least make out the dwarven woman hovering over her with a steaming bowl of soup on her hands. “Tha’s it, lass. S’time ta wake up, though don’ try an move too much, aye?” Gwenna’s own sadness was hidden behind that motherly smile as she sat the soup bowl down and moved to put her hand on Lumen’s shoulder. “I’m goin’ ta raise ya up so ya can eat some, lass, tha’ is if yer raedy.” The small mage nodded her head to the dwarven woman, though didn’t speak, her brows tightly knitted. She never was good with strangers, even those that were treating her well and giving her no reason to be suspicious of them.
With a grunt of pain, Lumen’s small body was lifted by the hefty dwarven woman, and with ease. Sitting up, Lumen finally realized she was clean and covered in fresh clothing. Her eyes just stared at the Dwarven woman as if she were the blight that ran through her system. Gwenya seemed to pay it no mind, scooping up a spoonful of soup and holding it out to Lumen as to which the mage just open her mouth and accepted without a word. Moments passed like this where neither said anything to the other, but the dwarven woman was bound to get the Gilnean to speak.
“Tell me, lass,” she began as she shoveled another bit of soup into Lumen’s mouth, “Where is yer home? Zexx rarely spoke of those outside of this home, but I always had a feelin’ that someone out there meant a thing or two to ‘im, aye? Seems th’ way ya called out for him, ya know him rather well.” Gwenna’s blue eyes were a storm upon Lumen, kind but in terrible despair.
Lips formed a thin line, as Lumen almost refused to speak, but she knew it would serve her well to do so. This woman was only trying to care, and the mage, in a time like this, figured it was best to let her. She opened her mouth to speak, finding a sob nearly choking out her words already as tears began to flow down her face. “I come from Elwynn.” Her voice was shaky in his beginning and showed no signs of gathering sure footing any time soon. Emotion was Lumen’s worst enemy as she always felt it in greater multitudes than most. “My husband is Ser Thadwyl Longclaw of the House of Ludlow and I have two daughtahs, Emily and Lydia. My brothah’s name is Galethen Bishop, though not a brothah by blood. Zexx Candell -is- my fathah, or at least.. that is what he became to me.” She turned her dark emerald gaze back upon Gwenna then as more tears spilled out of them. “I... am in Ironforge, yes?” she inquired softly, staring in the bewildered eyes of the dwarven woman who had relented to let the soup spoon rest in the half empty bowl.
“Aye, lass... Yer in Ironforge. Yer nay well enough to travel all tae way to Elwynn nary yet. But, if ya feel yerself willin’ an’ able to write a letter tae yer husband, I’d make sure it got delivered.” Gwenna assured her, setting the soup aside and taking Lumen’s hand. “I imagine he’s worried out o’ ‘is wits fer ye, aye?” A soft smile was given towards Lumen as the mage just looked away from the dwarf, but nodded her head.
“Write it in my stead, kind woman. I do not know what to say to him.” She said in a harsh whisper. “I shall need to see his face before the words can be formed, and even then.. I am not sure they will come.” Lumen admitted softly, and the dwarven woman just nodded assuring her it would get done and be delivered to the Knight by the end of the evening. Gwenna then went on about the business and be alone in her own grief over Zexx, whom both women thought must be dead and gone by now.
Lumen too, was left alone as she stared at the wall, suddenly wishing there were windows in this city under the mountains. Tears continued in a steady stream down her face, thinking on the words that Zexx spoke to her before he hearthed her out of the hell they found themselves in. “I wish I had more time...” she heard his voice speak to her as if he were there, her hand raising to cover her mouth as her weeping began in full then. “Fathah, forgive me, for I have lead you to your ruin..” she muttered softly before the world was choked out once again, feeling the blackness her grief struck upon her weakened body.
(( @zexxcandell @longclawofgilneas @ludlowvineyards @galethenbishopsblog for mentions and deep relevance <3 ))
I think I like this design enough to start developing her more. I DO want to make comic about her. Not sure what to call a slice of life sci fi bounty hunter comic.
Bountys and Babes? Life and Times of a Intergalactic Bounty Hunter? Any ideas?
Bright, sterile light blinded Zexx's eyes as he desperately tried to blink his gaze clear as he raised a hand to the fluorescent blaring above him. Eight hours in digital darkness made breathing in fresh recycled air feel like being an opened can of SPAM. The senses became overwhelmed by actual reality closing in as the soft hiss of cranial cords releasing and the pressure loosening in his head to cause a loud yawn to follow with the familiar pop of his ears. "Good morning."
"Good morning to you, Mr. Candele," responded the crisp airy voice the pod tech, the former pilot shaking his head as he had meant for his greeting to be more rhetorical than directed at anyone. As the glare cleared his vision, Zexx could begin to focus on the white room around him as he pawed at the handle to ease himself out of his seat. The groan of his aching ass was much more relief than pain. "Can I assist you sir?"
Pride would make most wave off the help, but after the third shift and the steady headache that was building behind his eyes he motioned for a hand to help him down. The tech walked quickly to his side, the glass contacts of his eyes keeping steady to him as he reached up with the unnatural strength afforded to his kind. Conduits weren't welcome a lot of places, but that didn't mean they were unhireable.
The strong cool hands gripped his free arm and eased Zexx down, his one foot gently feeling out for the cold white floor of the pilot's room. It felt amazing to his hot skin as he let out a sigh of weariness. "Thanks, Red."
Red would offer a sad smile in return to the gracious attitude, words meant a lot in this day and age. The Con was a stranger to gracious behavior and relished in it when he was offered it, finding it to be the human thing to do and give in return to receiving. The synthetic tech would gently lift Zexx's weak arm over his shoulder and walked him over to one of the chairs. "Busy night, sir?"
"I broke down a wall," Zexx replied with a laugh and cough, the pounding growing by the second under the lights.
"Sounds very exciting, I wish I had been watching the feed."
Zexx would tilt his head a bit to look at Red with a curious eye. "What were you doing? Napping?"
The Con would laugh now, a mirthless sound but an attempt at being as human as he could be. "I wish. Can you imagine me taking a nap? Or dreaming? What a concept."
The frail man would sink into the plastic chair, his eyes looking up at his caretaker with a half smile in return. "I'd heard there's an upgrade for that."
"Yes, that's exactly what I need. I have seen how you people dream, and I think I'm safer watching feeds," Red smiled back with the same mirthless reflection of the living man before him. Red was dressed as all Pit techs, his clothes the simple scrubs of primary colors and soft silk gloves while a matching bandana wrapped over his head to hold back the synthetic hair that he'd chosen to dye as bright red as he could be allowed. The ruby treatment to work in the Emerald Unit.
Zexx blinked slower and slower as he leaned back into his chair, his body starting to give out faster and faster by being in the open air. The world starting to get fuzzier by the second and feeling his vision starting to tunnel to the tune of the pounding in his head. "Red."
The tech knew instantly what was happened as he lifted pulled out a small flashlight and shined it bright into the eye of his patient. "It's alright, sir. I have you. Just follow the direction of my light and we'll get you started back up here in a moment."
"Start me, yeah you go an star me up," Zexx's speech was getting slurred as the body began to give up. Reborning was the silly joke of ending your shift as one was pulled out of the cocoon of digital normality that they got to experience for a shift. It wasn't necessarily a lie. One could easily compare it to being back in the womb with all the drugs, vitamins, and thankfully water they pumped in to make you as functional as possible. It just so happened your dreams were of being a 7 foot mechanical titan with a gun. Complexes were not uncommon.
Red muttered something about classical music hearing Zexx's slur and pulled over his rack of starters for the man. There was no hesitation in the conduit's movements as he grabbed a strip of cord and quickly tied off his patients thin arm. A few gentle taps brought the veins to bear with a triumphant nod. "Always such a presenter, Mr. Candele."
"Aim ta please," the slurred voice answered as Zexx's neck got weaker and numbness began to rob him of some of his functions.
"Of course," Red chose the first syringe with programmed ease and pressed the needle to the first vein. Stopping for a moment as he looked up to Zexx's face and asked a final query. "Mr. Candele, I am about administer a series of injections that will effectively prolong your life and contract with the STON corporation as was agreed upon at your signing of contract. I require verbal consent for me to administer these injections to you. Do you consent and agree to remain an asset to the company and the contract you have agreed to until such time of your death or choice to terminate your place within the organization?"
There was a long pause. The lolling sitting still as the thin chest rattled out a series of slowing breaths, the darkness closing in around his vision as he stared down at his arm. So many bruises. The thin skin. Protruding bones. Metal. Sharp. Pain.
"Consen."
There was a push, a flush, and rush as the needle bore it's hole. "Thank you for your continued service, Mr. Candele. Rest now. I will han-"
It was dark. Not like the darkness of death or of the empty dreamscape of nightmares but like the darkness of his bunk. Sighing soft, Zexx would blink a few times letting his hands drift up to rub at his eyes and face. The dopamine rush from getting to touch his face pushed away the emptiness at knowing he'd done it again.
"I'm still here," Zexx whispered as he lowered his hands again to his chest and felt the tight skin with rough fingertips. Counting the ribs. Feeling the sternum. Stopping a the familiar stainless gaskets that were embedded into his flesh. He quickly pulled his hands away. He would never get used to the surgical enhancements done as much for his work as it was to keep him alive. It was hard enough to look down and only see one foot let alone the macabre horror that his body was considered.
'How much longer you gonna do this?' The question was in his own voice but thankfully an inner thought more than an outer monologue. Hearing himself say it would make it even harder to keep coming back for it. He wasn't necessarily afraid to die, but it would be stupid to not be afraid of the end. How much easier it would be though to finally just languish and just be done.
No more drugs.
No more work.
"No more pain," Zexx whispered as his inner voice decided it was better to be an outer voice now. All it did was force him to sit up faster, the stubborn streak of being alive goading him to not just rot and die. Not now. And not here.
Groaning from familiar stiffness in his joints as he sat up and looked about his meager room. STON wasn't really all about 'warmth' or 'cozy' digs. This was a job. A very well paying job for those outside of it's many walls. The room had a desk, a chair, a lamp, a monitor, and a bathroom. They were all single dorms for each pilot and there were many. Many in. And many out.
Most pilots had a lifespan here of roughly five years. No one came in here as a healthy horse, just broken down mules. Highly experienced and knowledgeable mules, but definitely not ones to make long-term commitments.
Sparce walls. Cream sheets. Temperate climates. Sterile scenery. No pictures. No contacts. No outside attachments. Prisoners of their own choosing.
'This is a one time offer, Mr. Candele. You sign here your family will be taken care of, but you will effectively no longer be counted in the living census.'
"I'm already dead."
'We all are in time. Question is, what do you want to do with your time remaining? Be with your family? Accrue debt? Say goodbye? Good times and bad times. It is ultimately your choice. I do not begrudge the weight of the choice or if you want to refuse. But we're offering your a chance to leave an impact on those you will be leaving behind.'
"Where do I sign?" Zexx whispered lost in the memory as he flexed his hands to see Mr. Wringer's pen as he signed. "I consent."
Vision cleared again as a heavy sigh passed and his foot swung to press into the cool tile floor. With clearing vision he finally looked up to see the blinking light for a message on his desk. Coughing and clearing his voice he would call out to the AI helper connected to his room. "Joe. Play my messages."
A gruff accented voice would respond in kind with as much kindness as a machine could. "It's a message boss, an not the kind that ya listen to. You want me ta read it to ya?"
"It'd be easier than me guessing what it was," Zexx shot back, unsure if it was friendly banter between them or a lonely man trying to make his life normal. Eyeing around his bunk he spotted the prosthetic that had been cleaned and left for him. Some people liked the newer ones that looked as realistic as they could. Five toes. Matching tones. Pretend muscles. Heels.
Not for him.
His leg was gone and he wasn't interested in carrying around a memory like that. Crude, practical, and efficient were all he needed in the blade that balanced him easily as he clipped it and plugged it into his nerve receiver at the ball that was his former kneecap. He winced hard as the throb of connecting to his system completed, glad for something to see what hurt than the ghost that haunted him. "Read the message already, Joe."
"Alrigh, alrigh. Let's see 'ere. Morning Mr. Candele. Hope you are well. Yadda yadda yadda," Joe read off the message in his teamster tone and voice, the AI following the setting given upon connecting with Zexx who thought it was more funny than annoying how it knew to skip boring parts. "Ah here ya go, looks like Director Son wants to see you this afternoon. Round 1400 from looks of it."
"What time is it?"
"1230."
Zexx would nod as he reached over into this nightstand and fished out his glowpen, twisting it to see it still about halfway packed and charged. "Great, time enough for a smoke and bite."
"The usual?"
"Pancakes," Zexx smiled as he took a slow drag of the THC infused drip he loaded his pen with, letting the smoke drift from between his teeth. "Ain't got much of a figure left to worry about."
A full sketch page of my purple fluffy Chronomancer, Zexx! Done by the ever amazing @kiqo-gw2-corner. With special guest star of Kiqo's own Yitu doing a selfie with him. I love how this turned out so much, it captures him perfectly! I especially love him all tucked up reading one of his favorite trashy romance novels!
Pride sketches done by @kiqo-gw2-corner! My eternal ray-of-sunshine Druid, Seffi, and once more my purple Chronomancer, Zexx! Just showing off their flags!
