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spheciform · 8 months ago

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Sad she only got one album out before everything went to shit, but what's a girl to do?

This is a fake album cover for my dnd character, Helvia, and her fake band THREAT DISPLAY!!! Context for this piece and Helvia as a whole under the cut because once I start I can't stop talking about her <3

SO the campaign hasn't started yet, but Helvia is my character for a science fiction campaign. She's robot!!! Well I guess that's obvious now. BUT the basic gist: Helvia was manufactured as an industry-controlled and maintained electronic "punk" singer. When the project ended up making no money, everything related to it (including her), was abandoned. Three years later, she wakes up out of stasis with no clue what happened, an insane debt, and a failing memory. You will look at her !! Her full name is Helvia Cardinalis. This is just a genus of mantis it doesn't have any special meaning I just like bugs <3

-she has generated "background" memories of an entire life, but there's no telling which of those are real. I don't actually know which of them are real. My dm does!!! We'll be finding out together!!

-sometimes she uh. Doesn't know basic information. Whenever something she should reasonably know gets brought up I get to roll a flat d20 to do a "memory check", the checks getting harder the older the memory is. When she fails, she gets to lie or change the topic etc because she would rather DIE than admit anything is wrong with her.

-the album cover is kind of an intentionally really poor introduction of her character. She's more silly than anything? The entire project was meticulously micromanaged by the company that made her. The "novelty" and aesthetic of having a construct as their lead took forefront in its advertisement. There were two other members of THREAT DISPLAY!!! But she has no memory of them because they were considered comparatively SO unimportant to advertising and to her that they have gone... forgotten.

-Helvia herself is. A real character alright!!! Based entirely in what a corporation thinks a "cool alternative girl" is, she's impulsive, selfish, and just. So fucking stupid. She's firmly a "might makes right" type of person who was designed to appear counterculture but still ultimately serve and be fine with the status quo as long as it benefits her. She's going to do anything that grants her immediate satisfaction, and is obsessed with maintaining her image as "cool and above it all", even as her body is actively breaking down. She easily falls for flattery.

Notes about the piece: yeah I downloaded and used splatoon fonts for the nonsense text. I think I typed gay sex like twice I'll be real none of it translates to relevant information. I think there's something in there about how I hope it came across as an adequate parody of machine girl album covers (my main inspiration). The composition of the piece itself is meant to feel kind of skeevy and exploitative because well. It is!! It's drawing the fine line between 'wow this is so cool and counterculture of us wow!!!' and fetishistic? Etc etc missing the chestpiece as an analog for putting a woman topless on the cover. There's actually a separate sketch I did as a canonical "mock up" for the design that originally included the other members, treating them like props because they're so unimportant, before they were scrapped from the final design because they were That Unimportant.

Notes on Helvia's design: I pulled from a few sources for this!! Notably I looked at so many pictures of that band Tramp Stamps. Remember Tramp Stamps? I don't. They're like the direct analog I think to her. I also pulled from vocaloid designs!! Impractical, cool, kind of "anime" feel. This comes across most in her hair I think which is just so beautifully impractical. The yellow gloves are so stupid important to me actually they're kind of ugly but it's the only way her name ended up being important: helvia cardinalis (mantis) is Bright Yellow and raises its 'arms' in its threat display, which I wanted to pull from for potential posing of her!! So. Bright stupid yellow gloves <3 they're an easy way to tell her character apart too & mean I don't have to worry about drawing all the nonsense on her arms. The translucent skirt also comes from the mantis, sort of pulled from its wings!! Original concepts for her included synthetic skin rotting away but her design was already more complicated than I normally go for and we ultimately ended up realizing her being openly and visibly a construct was important for her image in her music career so it worked out well! She is at least missing an eyeball :] doesn't affect vision since the mechanics are still in place but I guess she just gets that fun sans glow socket <3 her outfit is meant to look simultaneously cool, vaguely expensive, but also super super cheap?? Overall I'm happy with the fact that she looks both cool and really stupidly impractical in that classic 2000s deviantart oc way <3 it's important to me! Ultimately:

#Palart #robot character #robot art #robot oc #my art #character art #art #dnd character #dnd art #dnd oc #oc: helvia #cw suggestive #? pretty. idk I've stared at this too long to know anymore #described by me #synth.solo #I think I've talked about her before a little bit but <3 she's just all the tropes I like jammed into one character I refuse to apologize #accidentally started the draft on this blog instead of my art blog so oops guess it's here now!!

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chandelier-s-notebook · 3 years ago

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Tagglist: @sleepysnails

This fic has a couple warnings: child neglect, neglectful SBI; Patches is dead for a couple paragraphs, Tommy’s feather falling boots don’t work, but both of them are revived immediately

This fic has good Dream and good Schlatt tho, and is h/c Good Enough For Someone Ao3 Link

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Tommy was a smart kid. His mom framed every test he brought home from Palarts Academy Of Magics. His dad told him how proud he was of his marks. Wilbur kissed the top of his head. Techno gave him a small smile.

Tommy was a bright kid. His mom always said that he would do great things with his life. His dad occasionally bragged about him to work friends that came for dinner. Wilbur told him he could do anything he wanted. Techno…

Tommy was a lovable kid. His mom would always remember to make him a separate meal when he didn’t like what the rest of the family was eating. His dad would buy him new clothes for his birthday so that not everything he owned was a hand-me-down. Wilbur… Techno…

Tommy was a sensible kid. His mom never needed to tell him to be careful. Phil… Wilbur… Techno…

Tommy was a fun kid to be around. Kristin… Phil… Wilbur… Techno…

Schlatt was over. Schlatt was actually Wilbur’s friend, but he always made time for Tommy.

Tommy was planning for the seventh year students’ summative project: a complete analysis of a common enchantment. He was sitting at his desk, reading through piles of books to find his chosen enchantment, when there was a knock on his window. He looked up, and there he was at the window: tapping on the glass and waving.

Tommy laughed before throwing his books to the side and sliding the glass upwards. “What are you doing here?”

“What I always do here, kid.”

“And what’s wrong with the door?”

“You never answer the door,” he said, hopping over the sill. “Wanted to hang out with my favourite buddy!”

“Wilbur’s on the couch by the door. Waiting for you.” Tommy slammed his window shut. “So, shoo.”

Schlatt poked Tommy’s nose. “You’re my favourite.”

“Pfft. As if.” Tommy opened his door. “Get out. Go hang out with Wilbur.”

Schlatt made himself comfortable on Tommy’s twin bed. “No. Let’s hangout before I need to deal with your brother.”

Tommy sighed and swung his door closed. “Fine. Let’s hang.” The door bounced against the frame. “But outside of my room. I’m tired of these four walls.”

“As long as we hangout.” Schlatt shot off the bed. “Where’s Wilbur? Let’s go spy. See what he does while he waits for me.”

Tommy quirked a smile. He followed Schlatt to the banister of the second level interior balcony of the Za Manor. They hid behind the pillars between the sections of steel railing, and watched Wilbur pace the floor below. He seemed to be muttering to himself and kept looking furtively out the window.

Schlatt chuckled. “Look at him. He’s so worried.”

“Yeah, for you. You’re up here. Get down there.”

Schlatt’s smile fell and he glanced at Tommy. “You okay kid?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure kid?”

“Yeah I’m fine. I was doing homework.” He looked away from Wilbur. He sat with his back to a pillar and dropped his head into his knees. “Go hangout with Wilbur.”

Schlatt held out his hand. “Tommy.”

“Go.”

Schlatt’s hand dropped. “What’s wrong kid?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

“Yes you are,” he said, wiping away the beginnings of tears.

“I’m not.”

“Yeah right.” He hiccoughed. “Wilbur’s gonna find out and you’re going to leave. ‘Cause Wilbur doesn’t want to hangout with me. ‘Oh that’s just my kid brother. We ignore him.’ I don’t know how you managed to find out I existed.”

“You were telling funny stories about your brothers at a banquet your father held. The least boring person in the room.”

Tommy tilted his head up and blinked the moisture out of his eyes. “I try.”

“You’re funny Tommy.”

“Niki said that once. Wilbur called her crazy.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Please leave. Leave because I told you, not because Wilbur dragged you away.”

“Kid--”

“Please.”

Schlatt stood up. He looked furtively at Tommy’s dejected form.

“Go have fun with Wilbur Schlatt.”

Schlatt waited a few moments for Tommy to change his mind. He turned away after a long minute, “I will.”

Tommy listened to Schlatt’s footsteps sound off the marble floor. He walked down the stairs and called out to Wilbur.

Tommy ignored it when Wilbur yelled out excitedly. He ignored it when Schlatt shouted back at him. He ignored the laughter. He ignored the running away to the fencing room.

He pulled himself off of the ground. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his dark green tunic. He shouldn’t be crying over this. He shouldn’t be crying over Schlatt when he was the one who sent him away.

Tommy was a smart kid. Tommy was a bright kid. Tommy was a lovable kid . Tommy was a sensible kid. Tommy was a fun kid to be around.

Schlatt believed these things, but Schlatt was Wilbur’s friend.

There was someone else that believed all these things: Dream, and Dream was his friend and his friend alone.

Without looking behind him, Tommy walked the same staircase Schlatt did, but instead of going further into the house, he left. He walked right out the front door and passed the garden towards the gate. He nodded to the guards and scaled the fence. What were they gonna do? He was a master of the house: technically.

Tommy slammed the door open at the top of the tower. Through panted breaths he called out to Dream, “Hey asshole! How’s it shaking?”

“Never ask me that ever again, and close the door you’ll let in a draft.”

Tommy closed the door. “So I can call you an asshole?”

“Sure. Whatever. Can you get me my clear quartz from the top drawer? Patches fell out the window again, three times in the same day, before I could get her to the vet.”

“Oh fuck.” Tommy went over to the dresser and dug around for the right crystals. He tossed an assortment of crystals on the coffee table: clear quartz, obsidian, amethyst, and bloodstone. He didn’t like looking at Patches during Dream’s rituals to bring her back. It always irked him that the dead didn’t stay dead, but it’s not like Dream could live without his cat. He was one of those people.

Tommy sat a little ways away, draped on a loveseat, while a purple hue settled in the one room of Dream’s tower. “Third time?”

“Yeah,” Dream confirmed absentmindedly. “Fourth life, you know how cats are.”

Tommy nodded. He didn’t know, but now was the time to agree silently.

“Meow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Hey Patches,” Tommy cooed when she rubbed against his calves before running away to her hideyhole.

Dream stood up and pulled away from the coffee table. He grabbed his crystals and tossed them back into the top drawer. “Now that I have my cat back, I’m doing great.” He chuckled and shoved at Tommy’s leg until it moved. “How are you kid? Don’t you have to be home tonight?”

“Yeah. Techno’s something or rather. I’m supposed to be there for his shit, but I can arrive just before dinner and I’ll be fine. Dad never wants me there to greet guests anyways.”

“Tommy.”

“I’m fine. If I wanted pity I would have stayed to hangout with Schlatt.”

Dream gave him a sad look, but still pulled away like he was asked. “So, what do you want to do while you waste time?”

“Hangout with you,” Tommy said, a smile forcing itself onto his face.

Dream laughed. “But what do you want to do?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know. I just came here.” He looked around the room. “We could play cards?”

Dream smiled. “Let’s play cards. Which game do you want to play?”

Tommy would never admit the stutter-step that happened on his way to grab Dream’s playing cards. He just wasn’t used to being asked what he wanted to do, and that wasn’t his fault. “Uhm. You pick.”

Dream’s smile softened and Tommy squirmed under his gaze. He shuffled the deck and started dealing three piles, all cards face down. “Pick a pile,” he said, once he was done.

“But there are two of us?”

“We’re playing cheat, much better with four people, but we can make do. The third pile will be discarded.”

Tommy’s eyes darted between all the piles. He put his hand on the one closest to him, and he slid it over to Dream. He then looked between the two piles and grabbed one of them. “Can I look at my cards?”

“Of course.”

As the sun started to set below the tree line, Tommy won his fourth game of cheat in a row. “Ha!”

“How are you so good? You’ve never played before!”

“It’s not about the cards, it’s about body language.”

“Yeah yeah.” Dream waved Tommy out of his house. “I know bodies, and you need to get home. You’ve definitely missed Techno’s dinner.”

“He won’t mind,” Tommy said nonchalantly. “Totally.” He paused. “He’s not going to mind,” he repeated, turning to look at the ground. “Bye Dream. I gotta run.”

Dream punched his arm lightly. “Yeah you do. I’ll see you around, kid.”

Tommy raced down the spiral staircase and started bolting towards his house. Techno wouldn’t mind that he missed dinner, but dad would. All of his sons were supposed to be there for Techno’s crowning achievement: whatever the fuck it is that he did.

Tommy’s feet hit the ground hard as he tried to get home as soon as possible. The pounding of his souls faded into the background as he tried to figure out what he should congratulate Techno for.

The siege.

It was the siege on Palarts. He had held up a fire shield to protect the school from the elementals that were attacking the school.

Tommy laughed humorlessly. He reached the walls of the estate. He scaled them, as he often did, and slipped into his room. He stripped his waistcoat off. He looked around his room for something nice to wear.

There. On his bed. A pile of clothes. And a note.

Shit.

Remember to make your hair look nice. —Mumza

Tommy threw the note down. He changed into a clean tunic, and buttoned up his formal waistcoat. He ran his fingers through his hair. He glanced into the mirror. Mom was right to remind him to fix his hair. He changed from his riding boots to his dress shoes and walked out of his room.

He practiced his smile on the way down the stairs.

A servant found him. “Master Tommy!”

“Hi, is the party over?” Tommy tried to ask unaffected, but inside he was worried. He could totally miss the toast, but he needed to be there for dinner: it would be noticeable if he was missing.

“They’ve been holding dinner for you, Master Tommy.”

“Fuck. How long? Have people been eating?”

“Only an hour after dinner should have started.”

“Fuck.” He looked around. “Have the staff been bringing out hors d'oeuvres? People aren’t starving right?”

“They haven’t, but they are getting antsy.”

Tommy quirked a smile. “Good thing I arrived then.”

The servant gave him a look. “They’re in the ballroom,” they said, turning away back to the kitchen.

“Which one?”

“The grandroom!”

Tommy threw an unseen thumbs up, and walked to the grandroom. He took a deep breath and slipped through the door.

He looked around the brightly lit room. There were people, upon people, upon people, upon people; so many people. He ran his fingers through his hair once more. He straightened his waistcoat and started looking around for his family.

People said hello as he passed them, he shook the hands of those who asked, and pushed past everyone else.

There, through the throng: dad.

Tommy shoved his way to his family. He took half a breath and tapped on his father’s shoulder.

The man spun around, with a smile on his face. Once he grabbed sight of his son, his façade fell. “Tommy.”

“Dad.”

“You are very late.”

His chin dropped. “I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t even make it on time to dinner.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are lucky that a little booze can do wonders on party guests.”

“I know, Dad.”

Phil Craft gave him a look, and a tilt of the head. He raised his hands above his head and clapped twice. A hush fell over the grandroom, starting near him and extending all the way to the edges of the room by the far wall. “Let’s eat!”

There was a shout of joy from the crowd, and the servants ushered guests to the dining hall. Phil stood still, his eyes falling back to his youngest son. Tommy kept his eyes trained to the ground.

“Who were you out with?”

“Dream.”

Phil nodded. “You know I don’t like you spending time with necromancers.”

“I know, but Dream’s cool. I like the person and don’t care about his magic.”

Phil ignored him. “Go congratulate your brother on your way to dinner.”

“Yes dad.” Tommy sped away the moment he was dismissed. He followed everyone, but instead of walking around looking for his name plate at one of the many round tables, he walked directly to the head table. He walked by his brothers, and paused. “Congratulations on protecting Palarts during the siege.”

Techno turned away from his conversation with Wilbur. He looked Tommy up and down. “You’re late.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Techno nodded and turned back to Wilbur.

Tommy stewed. He was mad. He had been stressed about being late, but both dad and Techno only gave him three seconds of disappointment. Maybe he’d get yelled at later.

It had been five days. No one yelled at him. No one gave him a long talk about being there for family. There was nothing. No notes.

Tommy was at the highest tower in the Craft Estate. On his feet were netherite feather falling IV boots. He wanted to see how far he could fall. Seventh year students at Palarts always had to do an assignment on an enchantment. He had chosen feather falling before the break, so he surmised that he should do a little bit of field research.

He looked over the window sill. He shook himself out and climbed up the cobblestone to get to the roof. He sat up on the clay tiles, the sun’s heat made them almost unbearable to sit on. He surveyed the ground area. He spotted Schlatt come up to the Estate’s walls through the woods.

Schlatt got to the top of the wall. A guard reached him immediately, and after a few moments he was tossed into the garden below. Schlatt landed with a somersault and Tommy timed his fall with Schlatt’s rise to his feet.

He didn’t scream, but he did spend more time than necessary to right himself mid-air and make sure he fell on his feet and not his stomach.

But that apparently didn’t matter.

Sure he expected his feet to hurt. But everything hurt.

Pain.

Agony.

His vision went dark.

- - -

“Kid. Kid.”

Tommy felt someone shake his shoulders. His head felt like cotton. His body still hurt. The light was too bright. Schlatt was too loud.

Schlatt was too loud.

“Kid!”

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

The hands came off of his left shoulder. Schlatt’s relieved breath was too loud.

“You’re too loud.”

Schlatt laughed. “You’re okay kid.”

“Everything hurts.” Tommy blinked his eyes open. The too-bright light was purple.

Purple light. Necromancy. Dream.

Dream.

Tommy turned his head. There on his right, was the source of the purple light. Hovering over him, with his hands out, was Dream, a look of pure concentration on his face. He also looked exhausted.

The longer he lay there the better he felt, but Dream didn’t need to collapse because of him.

“Dream. Dream. You can stop. I’m fine,” he croaked.

The purple light flickered. Tommy and Dream locked eyes. The purple light dimmed and Tommy was actually able to see Dream.

His arms dropped to his sides and was breathing heavily, but never took his eyes off Tommy. Tommy turned back to the left and found Schlatt in much the same state.

“Hey guys. Did I break anything?” he asked, trying to force a smile to his face.

Dream’s voice was hoarse. “You broke everything.”

“Oh. Well. Then, feather falling IV on nethite boots does not protect you from thirty meter falls.”

Dream surged forward and dragged Tommy into his arms. “What the fuck, kid? Why would you do that?”

“School work,” Tommy said, knowing what Dream was asking about.

Dream scoffed. “Palarts is all about practical learning, but they would never make a student go that far. Tommy please, why did you do that?”

Tommy lowered his chin into Dream’s chest. “I thought I was going to be okay,” he admitted. “And I was, you saved me. I’m okay.”

Dream scoffed. “Only because Schlatt saw you fall.”

At the mention of his name Schlatt snapped out of his supor. He snatched Tommy from Dream and shook him, fighting himself to keep the movement light, “Do you know how scared I was when I saw you fall kid? Do you know how many people even come to this corner of the Estate grounds?” He laughed humourlessly. “Your family isn’t even home right now you know? They went to go watch a fucking play, Hermitcraft: Civil War!”

Tommy nodded. “Four tickets, found them on the table by the door.”

Schlatt’s grip tightened.

“Ow.”

“You mean that your family bought tickets for a show and didn’t bother buying you a ticket? Or even ask you if you wanted to go? Or even tell you about it?” He shook Tommy with every question.

“Schlatt, my head,” Tommy complained in lieu of answering, his eyes closing.

Tommy felt a softer set of hands pry Schlatt’s off of him. “Tommy?”

“No, they didn’t tell me about the show.”

“Oh Tommy.” Dream pulled Tommy into his arms. He tucked Tommy into the crook of his neck, and carded his fingers through his blond hair. “I’m here.”

Another hand—Schlatt’s—came to rub comfortably on his shoulder. “I’m here too, kid.”

Tommy’s head hurt, but he felt loved for the first time in a long time.

#tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #jschlatt #philza #technoblade #Wilbur Soot #one-shot

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