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toonatic92 · 1 year

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[Image description: A watercolour picture of my Homestuck fan-troll Deo in her room. She is kneeling on her bed and using a screwdriver to fix a scanning device on her lap. She has long black hair in a loose ponytail and is wearing a T-shirt with an alien on it and flower-patterned leggings. Her bedsheet is pattered with stars and constellations and her pillow has rockets, UFOs, planets and galaxies on it. There are books about conspiracies and cyptids on the floor, as well as several snake and lizard plush toys, a toy alien, a Bill Cipher doll, a sickle and a multi-lens magnifying glass. There are glass tanks containing pet snakes on a table, an old computer with computer chair, a wheelchair and a potted plant lined up against the wall. The walls are covered in posters of troll versions of British sitcoms, an 'I Want to Believe' poster with a UFO on it, a 'Mothman Sighting Zone' poster, a Gravity Falls poster and a poster with a crescent moon and eye symbol that says 'Don't Trust Anyone'. There are small pyramid-shaped terrariums containing plants hanging from the ceiling and police caution tape with alien symbols on it strewn around the room.]

I did a watercolour picture of my Homestuck fan character Deo and her respiteblock. She lives on a livestock farm in the idyllic countryside and cultivates many interests in between running the farm.

Her main interest is investigating conspiracy theories, cryptids, aliens and urban legends with various homemade devices, like the one she's spent all night working on here. She has books about the Lunacracy and other pseudoscientific subjects, as well as posters and her old computer, which she only uses to monitor conspiracy forums because she's not good with computers. She's into aliens the most because she often feels alien compared to her friends, and also because she's been a keen astronomer since she was a kid.

Her bed is space themed and is more for sitting or laying on when she's working because she sleeps in a recuperacoon like most trolls. Working here is better for her than working at a desk, since she has multiple sclerosis and can't sit up or balance when she has flare-ups. The wheelchair in the corner is also for when she can't walk because of a flare-up. It was decorated by one of her friends with spray paint and plastic wheat and poppies.

Her other big interest is herpetology, studying and caring for reptiles and amphibians. She has a lot of pet snakes, lizards and frogs in glass tanks and has many stim toys based on them, which were made by Vistie, who is a seamstress. Deo also has succulents and other houseplants, some in glass terrariums hanging from the ceiling and some dotted around the house.

Because she's a farmer, she likes a lot of rural sitcoms and has posters of them on her wall. I basically picked every rural British sitcom I could think of and made troll versions. From left to right: The Vicar of Dibley - The Subjugglator of Dibley, Last of the Summer Wine - Last of the Solar Sweeps Wine, and All Creatures Great and Small - All Lusii Great and Terrifying. She also likes the troll version of Gravity Falls, because it's a very cryptid and conspiracy themed show. Also on her wall and scattered around her bedroom is the troll version of police caution tape (drone tape?), which she collects from crime scenes as a 'fuck you' to authority and cover-ups. It was meant to say 'CAUTION, DRONE. DO NOT CROSS' but I might have fucked up on drawing some of the letters.

As a side note, my troll OCs are based on Greek gods. Deo is based on Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, which is why Deo is a farmer. Her interest in conspiracy theories is sort of a loose interpretation of Demeter being associated with the Eleusinian Mysteries, an ancient cult with secret rites, based around the myth of Persephone's abduction by Hades and Demeter's search for her daughter. Her interest in snakes and reptiles is based on Demeter's chariot being drawn by winged serpents and her turning a rude boy into a gecko once. These themes will end up being present throughout her session.

Medium: Watercolour pens on paper.

Links to other versions: DeviantART Instagram

#my art #fanart #traditional art #homestuck #homestuck fantroll #homestuckfanart #homestuck oc #disabled character

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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Two Sides of the Coin (6)

Chapter 6: Occupational Complications | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 | Previous: Part 5 | Next: Part 7 | Masterlist

6 of ?

Jidné tilted her head back, sighing, she turned around to answer Cal right in the face.

“Yeah,” said Jidné, plainly.

She wrapped her cowl around her shoulders after clearing off the dust and leaves that clumped onto it during their skirmish with the Bashiji cats. They exchanged looks, but she kept her distance from him. Cal’s eyes wandered to the girl’s hilt, the two strands of turquoise beads attached to the ring of the pommel’s base stood out from the black and silver color scheme.

A robotic chittering came within their earshot, ID-3 appeared from the branches where he was hiding the whole time. Alarmed by the sight of a probe droid, Cal reignited his saber and pointed it at the black hovering disc of a droid.

“No, no, no—wait! He’s mine!” Jidné put herself between ID-3 and Cal who had his saber at the ready, who only looked at the Imperial probe droid by face value.

“He’s mine,” she repeated, more calmly this time.

Cal stopped at Jidné’s behest, he looked over her shoulder and saw the droid was hiding behind her back, its single red lens for an eye peeked over her hair.

Confused, Cal pulled his eyebrows together, “That Imperial probe droid is yours?”

“I reprogrammed him, and he’s with me,” she explained. She turned to the shuddering black disc hiding behind her shoulders. “It’s okay, ID-3, they won’t hurt us.”

Now standing much closer, she got a good long look at him. The sunlight that pored through the jungle canopy highlighted of his features for Jidné to see: the freckles that riddled his cheeks like stars to a night sky, the clear emerald shine of his eyes and the soft gaze that he makes with it.

Cal ticked the boxes of the job detail—red hair, a Jedi, and as much as she was too prideful to admit it he is handsome—but there’s no sign of the Holocron on his person. Jidné presumed that he wouldn’t carry it around with him, as people might mistake it for some heftily-priced relic.

He switched his saber off after believing that the probe droid was indeed harmless. ID-3 was still frightened from the sudden stance but quickly warmed up to Cal after spotting little BD-1, to prove that he was good, ID-3 raised one tentacle and waved it as if saying “Hello” both to Cal and BD-1.

“Booo-wooo…” BD-1 cautiously beeped in response. For good measure, he lit up his scanners at ID-3 and his lens panned up and down to get the full picture of the droid. The abrupt change of tone in BD-1 verified that ID-3 wasn’t the Imperial droid he used to be.

“See, he’s harmless!” Jidné insisted.

“Sorry we doubted you, ID,” Cal apologized for both himself and BD-1.

ID-3 accepted the apology, his raspy and monotonous tone somewhat had a cheery chirp in it.

“Oh! You’re hurt,” Cal uttered, spotting blood staining on Jidné’s jacket through the tears of her cowl.

Jidné searched for the injury, the adrenaline practically made her numb from feeling the sting, she only felt it when she slightly flexed her shoulder.

“Oh, crud…” she mumbled.

Cal snapped his fingers and out comes a healing stim from BD-1’s little compartment.

“Here,”

Jidné’s slender fingers picked up the green vial from Cal’s palm. She brought it closer to examine it.

“A healing stim,” she identified. “You have one impressive little droid.”

BD-1 took the compliment and chirped happily. Jidné sucked in some air before injecting herself of the green, soothing substance on the flesh of her upper arm. The substance relieved her of the pain, but she still has to treat the wound.

“Thank you, both of you,”

“You’re welcome, again,” Cal cooed bashfully, hanging his head low so Jidné doesn’t find him blushing.

And then the same awkward silence immediately followed them back.

“So, uh, what are you doing in the middle of the jungle?”

Okay, that was bad enough! Cal scolded himself in his subconscious.

“I should I ask you the same,” chuckled Jidné.

“W-Well, I was about to take a look around the town there until…”

Jidné bobbed her head, prompting him to continue.

“Until I heard you.” He finished.

“Oh… Well, my hero,” she giggled at her lighthearted yet dry joke. Cal received it as a compliment and awkwardly chuckled along with her.

The silence was getting old between the two of them now—that much they’re certain of. Both youngsters just don’t know how to interact with one another for their own various reasons.

“Listen, Jidné… um…”

“Yes?”

Cal had his tongue tied, he didn’t realize that he was saying things to her out on a whim, he didn’t exactly plan ahead with the conversations that he starts with her. He gulped the lump that’s been stuck in the middle of his throat so he could say the words right.

“You should treat that wound soon,”

Jidné examined her wound again, “Yeah, I suppose I should.”

“Right, err… so… I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Sure,” she shrugged her shoulder; in a deadpan tone, she added, “Maybe.”

Jidné watched this endearing, bumbling, ginger Jedi slowly back away into his original path. She remained where she stood until he was out of sight, out of the forest and back into the open—where he planned to be in the first place.

“Good gods, that boy… is a threat? To Darth Vader?”

“Trill, beeeee-eeep!” ID-3 chirped teasingly.

The bounty hunter translated the droidspeak, her own droid was teasing her that she must have found him cute.

“Oh shut up, you flying saucer,” she chuckled in great denial.

She began walking in the opposite path, where the wood gradually cleared out; along the way, she found her rifle that the Bashiji had chewed on. She picked the weapon and studied the damage, bite marks have dented the paneling; she flicked the safety and cocked it to see if it would still work.

“Well, so much for that mint condition earlier,” groaned the girl. “Come on, ID. I need to wash off this blood.”

The droid hovered as he followed her along, continuing to tease her in an upbeat string of notes and chirps—which Jidné constantly defended herself from.

“Beee-beeep!”

“You can’t prove I was blushing—you were behind me!”

Eventually, ID-3 finally toned down on the teasing, much to Jidné’s relief. Her trek ended when she spotted the bank of a river that leads to a waterfall on the far right, the crashing was within hearing range and so she decided to go to the main basin.

Stripping off her cowl and jacket, leaving only her black tank top, the claws of the Bashiji have sickled through the fabric and nicked at the corner of her shoulder; had that cat buried its nails into her then it would’ve reached the bone. Jidné soaked her clothes into the shallower part of the water, then scooped up handfuls of water to wash away the dried blood; when the wound had lessened the bleeding, she decided that it would be impractical if she hiked back to her ship to patch herself up.

“Never thought I’d be doing this again,” she mumbled under her breath.

She resorted to using Force healing, albeit was a skill that she’s still learning; in her level, it required her to meditate—compared to her late mentor who did it as simply as breathing, it was one of the things she strived to imitate in terms of mastery. Nonetheless, she sat herself up—back straight, legs crossed together, and her mentality clear. Jidné allowed herself to relax on her grassy seat, her fingers loosened around her kneecaps and took slow, calm breaths—feeling the warmth of the midday sun pinching her cheeks with its rays.

Her surroundings in her consciousness were beginning to blur as she puts her mind into focus. Her senses have softened and keened at the same time—a phenomenon that was instinctive as it was complicated to comprehend to those who are less sensitive, it was something she can’t put into words yet there was a familiarity to it. At first, she managed to reconnect with the Force and gently willed it to the wound—bit by bit, new skin began to seal the damaged flesh; when she sensed that she was succeeding, she strained out of impatience which she mistook for eagerness.

“Come on…!” muttered Jidné almost voicelessly, but the demand in her tone was apparent.

Jidné sensed that the new skin had slowed down in closing the wound, she forced herself just a little bit and she snapped back involuntarily; as consequence, the injury didn’t fully close, a significant portion of it remained fresh and unhealed—perhaps half in size. At least the bleeding stopped.

She examined her wound, patting on the new skin that concealed the rest of the injury. Accepting that she had lost control with her grasp on the Force, she resolved to letting what remains heal naturally; her mind shifted to the thought of Cal. The fact that he’s already met her and identified her as a Jedi—and not a bounty hunter—a strategy came up onto the top of her mind.

“This complicates things, though,” she thought out loud.

She continued to clean the grime, dust, and blood off of herself by the riverbank. Seeing that the forest was devoid of other humans or sentient life forms, she decided to take a dip into the cool water of the waterfall’s basin. The coldness blanketed and soothed every inch of her body, her dark hair swirling underwater; as she swam around, her mind constantly reminded her of Cal—the way he behaved, the way he spoke, but most importantly, his touch.

She brought her hand up from the water to examine it and try to reenact how she took his hand, how he held it, and how they shook each other’s hands. His palm was coarse, no doubt from his line of work, but if Jidné thinks about it—his grasp was so gentle. Water plopped when she jerked it back down, but she can’t stop rubbing her fingers in that hand.

“Definitely complicates things,” she groaned and submerged her face into the water, bubbles boiled as she exhaled her frustration underwater.

On the other hand, Jidné relished her time alone, bathing in the waterfall—it was a badly-needed cleanse. In the very center of the basin, she attempted to meditate—burying her toes into the silt floor of the stream to anchor herself, her body submerged from the chin down, and letting the coolness blanket her.

“Find it, Jidné,” she coaxes herself. “Latch onto it.”

She repeated this mantra until the sound of the waterfall have hollowed out in her hearing, until the only thing she could feel was her entire body subtly floating within the weak current of the water.

Nothing.

She growled, smacking and pounding the water with her fist, creating fountain-like splashes that rained down on her head. She brought her hands back out of the water again, gazing at her empty hands riddled with water droplets like transparent pearls.

“It’s always like this. I couldn’t be that damaged with the Force, could I?”

ID-3—who was hovering above the water, staying close to her as she swam—answered her question, even though it wasn’t exactly directed to him. He sounded affirming towards his owner, chirping high-pitched, raspy tones at Jidné.

“Thanks, ID, I appreciate that,” she hummed and continued to swim.

After her bath, she put on her clothes and collected her things before proceeding to hike through the jungle, avoiding the denser patches of greenery where Bashiji cats or other predators might jump on her again.

She decided to climb the waterfall’s wall, curious to see where it would lead her. Her little droid clamped itself on the harness’s strap on her back as she climbed. Using the skills she’s gained from her Padawan training back in the day, she scaled the rock wall with little to no equipment—just her iron grip.

“Just don’t look down, ID!”

“Booo-wooooo!!” the droid chirped in a nauseated tone.

The climb led the duo to the mesa, in the same level where she originally came from before landing into the surface of the jungle. From there, she stalked the ridge in search of the Mantis—relying on the homing beacon as she goes. The farther she went, the device’s beeping rhythm became faster until slow beating transitioned into a quick flickering with the noise barely keeping up with the pace.

She places herself on a vantage point, quite higher than her original spot where she first found the ship—atop a boulder’s throw. Zooming in through her binoculars, she scanned the treelines again, hoping to spot that same silver twinkle that she saw prior to this unprecedented predicament. The Mantis stuck out more from her current perspective, she patiently sat there, examining Cal’s companions.

Jidné eventually spotted that particular Lateron that Sorc was talking about. She watched the four-armed gray creature flail his arms while inaudibly conversing with a much older lady wearing beige clothes while a second lady in red and black garments—whom Jidné assumed to be Dathomirian—stood idly to survey the nature around them.

“Completely harmless, I wager,” Jidné commented to herself. “Kinda cranky for his size, though.”

She thumbed the knob on the underside of her binoculars to zoom in some more, she got a closer look of the Mantis and it was clear enough for her to see their faces.

“They’re obviously hiding it inside that ship,”

That fact led to Jidné remembering that her initial plan had been slightly ruined, hence the necessary alterations. With Cal thinking that she was friend not foe, the bounty hunter concocted her Plan B on the spot.

“I guess I have to keep up an act now, huh?”

“Beee. Trill, beep,”

“Figures…” she sighed. “One hell of a contract, eh, ID?”

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