WIP Of A Deslotair Comic I'm Working On!

Training

Glass teaching Desmona the tricks o' the trade. It means a lot to her to have a way of self defense that she can control, and that is very much designed to be non-lethal. I originally gave her a spear to be more matchy-matchy with Glass, but quickly realized that didn't fit.

So now she gets a staff! Still very much a weapon Glass can help teach her how to use, of course. It's something they can bond over as well- they worked on that staff together, and now they can train together with it.

I feel like there should be some sort of symbolism for the long bandages on the glass bots spears. Practically, they can help with grip for a people with very smooth, slippery hands, but there's not really a reason to leave a tail that long. Could be some kind of status symbol, or maybe vitality? Glass bots can be a little obsessed with age, so maybe you clip it as you get older? Idk, but I need to come up with something so it's not just impractical for no reason haha.

from da archives!!!! a screenprinted zine i made <3

journey to jupiter

prints available :) link in bio

The most detailed and clearest shot of the third quarter Mineral Moon.

"I captured around 50,000+ images over 186 GigaBytes of Data which almost killed my laptop with the processing."

Okay I fixed all the old Deslotair posts so now you can ACTUALLY scroll through the #planet deslotair tag to find them. Shoutout to good blog organization and all that

glass

The sun of Deslotair burned bright above. Stark white blended into yellow, infecting the sky around it. Rays of light stabbed the sky like burning knives, searing the air, cutting through that which crossed their path. Anything that stood in their way bled shadows, patches of darkness spreading from their touch.

The glass robot did not bleed shadows, ey did not feel the burning heat of the sun. Those deadly knives passed through eir translucent skin, shining off the machinery inside, swallowed by the burbling liquid that flowed through eir body. The tip of a spear was held low at eir side, its point gleaming.

No sun stabbed through the skin of the glass robot, but sharp gazes burned holes in eir back.

Whispers floated in the footsteps of the traveler. Suspicious words accompanied by fleeting glances trailed after the figure like wisps of smoke. The glass robot returned their glances with a blank curiosity, unbothered by the restless murmurs of discomfort. Ey simply observed, and walked.

The wooden doors of an old saloon swung open with whining creaks, announcing the presence of the traveler to those inside. Few heads turned, all new blood (the regulars were accustomed to the creaking of the doors, and to the uninteresting passerby they so often brought). Yet they started another round of whispers, and more heads turned to the glass robot, boisterous conversations morphing into a suspicious hiss at the arrival of the newcomer.

The glass robot turned eir head this way and that, returning the gazes of staring strangers with eir own gleaming eyes. Outside the eerie glow was swallowed up by the sun, but here it cast a white halo around the traveler’s face, surrounded by the gentle green glow of the vitrel  that flowed inside of em.

Ey walked.

The glass thudded against wooden floors, steps going unbroken as the small crowd parted to make room for the traveler. Ey nodded eir appreciation, and approached the bar. The bartender stood up straight. The robot she had been talking to, sitting on one of the hourglass stools with an untouched drink in front of him, remained perfectly still.

“Well,” the bartender started. She set down the empty glass she had been holding, put it upside down on the counter so its rim kissed the wood and left a ring of moisture. “What can I get ya?”

“Nothing to drink, thank you.” The glass robot spoke with eir hands, the fluid inside of them twisting and shifting with each movement.

The bartender eyed em warily. “Uh, sorry, I don’t know what you’re sayin’...”

“Nothing to drink, thank you.” The glass robot repeated the same motions as before, only slower, hands making clear arcs through the air.

“Ey doesn’t want anything,” the robot spoke up, nodding to the bartender before turning to address the glass bot. His eyes glowed a faint blue, piercingly contrasted with the hazy brown light that filtered through dirty glass bulbs above them. Tubes curled around him, jutting out from the fabric of his vest and wrapping around his joints. “What are you here for, then, if not a drink?”

Saloon

Glass and Sprocket's first meeting, way back when. Added a couple of ports for Sprocket's tubing to flow through, which makes a hell of a lot more sense than them just kind of sticking out at his joints or junctures in the plating. Better for consistency's sake too.

Tags: @glacierruler

Okay then! Bumblebee!

Are you better at action, descriptions, or dialogue?

-g

Oh man descriptions all day everyday. They're so fun, and there's so much room for all that delicious symbolism and metaphor and pretty word choice.

Dialogue is also chill. Action is so goddamn hard, it always feels like a puzzle to find the right pacing and balance and word choice and interesting shit happening in a way that makes sense?? I know I can pull it off, but it requires a lot more thought than just letting descriptions or conversation flow.

"Deslocar? Have I heard of it? Yeah of course I've heard of it, it's the planet over for fuck's sake. Have I been? Ha! Do you think I'd be standing here if I had?"

Deslocar - The desert planet misfit of its system. Ravaged by dust storms and pockmarked with pits and craters, Deslocar sits apart from its more hospitable neighbors.

The harsh weather of the planet and high winds of its upper atmosphere provide harsh conditions to any ships attempting to cross the border into space- whether they plan to enter, or are trying to leave. This has created a planet left behind, a world scavenging the broken vessels from the outside world, and trying to put together technology decades behind the rest of the system.

The craters of Deslocar are a relic from a younger, less stable universe, but they have refused to spend all that time sitting idle. Meteorites have cracked open the ground, and they bring Deslocar's contents flowing forth, trickling up from the dusty soil...

Keeper -- a short comic about an angel meeting a robotic lighthouse keeper that doesn't know the world has already ended. Made in about 18 hours for a 24-hour 24-page* black and white comic challenge (that I arrived late to, ha.)

*the actual submission does not include the cover, which was created after the fact for this post.

This was a really great learning experience as someone who's... never really made a completed comic. I ended up really attached to the story by the end of the project (possibly due to all-nighter deliriousness lol) and ultimately am very proud of what I made.There are some things I'd still like to change, particularly text placement, but in keeping with the spirit of the challenge I've elected to leave it as is.

Interstellar dust in California Nebula © cosmic_background