Inanimate Asexual

See hi-res version here: patreon.com/tomorobo/posts/162220756

I got suddenly inspired when I was relistening to the Pacific Rim OST and pumped out some concept for a Bloody Mary Pacific Rim AU.

I took a LOT of inspiration from pre-existing Jaegers from Pacific Rim and Mass Priduction Eva from Evangelion and mix and matched to try and come up with the Iron Lung and Hail Mary Jaegers.

+ + + Commission || Patreon || Ko-Fi 

Check here for all the references and Inspo:

AAH Thank you so much!! It took a while trying to figure out a style I was satisfied with, so I'm happy that you like how Simon's hair turned out! I like to imagine Grace also likes Simon's hair, especially after it's freshly washed and dried ;D

See hi-res version here: patreon.com/posts/bloody-mary-im-158706707

Updating every Tuesday: Bloody Mary (Project Hail Mary x Iron Lung) short story

I'm Still Here First {{ Prev { Page 10 } END

See hi-res version here: patreon.com/tomorobo/posts/165051458

Some more ideas I had regarding the Pacific Rim AU [ check my first post here ] mostly regarding timeline stuff!

I want to thank @mai--art-blog for helping to expand on the story and ideas as well!! They especially helped come up with the comic 8D Thank you so much for chatting with me about this fun AU 💕

Thanks to everyone as well for enjoying this fun silly concept!!✨

Edit: Goddamit spelling errors and realizing I messed up on the year numbering T_T

probably ooc but like i can see some intrusive thoughts like "if his dad was still alive no force in the universe would stop me from waterboarding him"

I think it probably takes a while before Simon gets the full story.

Obviously he knows that Ryland had a rough childhood. The way Ryland freezes when there's loud unexpected noises, how he flinches when someone raises their voice, the scars on his skin that are old and faded to a fine silver, how sometimes there are days where he can't even stand to get into the shower, they way he wrinkles his nose at the stench of whiskey and cigarettes--when Simon looks at Ryland it's almost like looking in a mirror sometimes.

So Simon knows, but he doesn't ask.

Because he gets it.

He does.

And besides. Ryland never pushed Simon for his whole story until he was ready, so Simon doesn't push him either.

It's not until one night, after Ryland came out of the shower struggling to breathe and scrubbing the water from his face hard enough Simon was afraid he'd make himself bleed, where they're laying in bed back to back with the safety of the dark and the blankets surrounding them, does Ryland tell him. He tells Simon about his mother. About his father. About Colt. About Court. And Simon listens. He doesn't talk. He just...listens. And when Ryland runs out of words and the sun has crept up the horizon Simon turns to face him and he holds him so painfully close as Ryland's body shakes and shudders on every sob that rips its way from between his ribs.

And, well.

Simon isn't naturally a violent sort of dog.

He's really not, despite everything that he's done.

He would never wish harm on anyone. Never wish anyone dead. Never be glad that anyone is dead.

Except he is.

Just this once.

He is glad that Ryland's father is dead.

He is glad that his death was messy and brutal and undignified.

Y'all. Y'ALL. DO Y'ALL REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?? It means that WE get to be the ancients that galactic civilization stumbles upon the ruins of. This - THIS PLANET RIGHT HERE is destined to become the Origin World of the Old Ones.

The Ones who seeded throughout the cosmsos, if not life (though many scholars suspect they left life behind too, with reckless abandon or perhaps unfathomable widsom, we can never know), if not life at the very least language, tools, monuments to science - the foundations upon which a thousand thousand races build their stairways to the stars, their starways to eachother.

And how wondrous it is to not be alone in the cosmos, and how under it all, the petty conflicts and the horrors, how thankful we are to not be alone, how thankful we are for the First, the All Parents, the Seed Spreaders, The Road Makers (a thousand thousand names for those who first laid the paths through the stars).

And at the far edge of it all, a planet formed before the galactic disks colided, preserved by lost arts from the dying struggles of the cold black dwarf it still orbits. And on that world an intrepid galactic explorer would, yes, find monuments and technologies not even dreamed of by the wildest anachroastrohistorians.

But they would also find handprints in stasis. and what can only be toys - for children, they had children. Art, and writings that when decoded can only be names and jokes. Jokes - the Ancient Ones told jokes. They carved their name in high places, for a billion billion years they were, and - and they were people.

They were like us.

They were like us and we are like them and we aren’t alone because of them then, and I wish they could know that even though they must have felt alone (oh they must have felt so alone, the early ones)

Hey now, you’re an all star

listen to what I orchestrated

Speed paint under line!

since this is being posted i believe a month after the last part im gonna say that yes they've been at this for 4 weeks and grace categorically refused to engage with a weird dream riddle and delegated that in favor studying of his new front yard decoration until frustration finally broke him

we love an avoidant behaviour king

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 3.5, part 4, part 5

+ bonus what i imagine the eridians looked like witnessing the Plot™

random yapping by yours truly below the cut