Local Tree Man

Does this count as being topless? I guess so.

Girl, don't smoke through your eyemouth when you're having a conversation. That feels rude as hell.

Listen the gnarly aesthetics...they called to me. I was compelled to answer, as anyone would be. She's one of the handmaidens who defends and attends to a holy station called The Carbuncle, home to many grand and holy corruptions. Basically an evil abby and corrupted convent, complete with plague nuns, a "hospital" (not curing shit but ensuring people live with disease long enough to incubate and spread it), and an orphanage to raise the abandoned.

Despite having sculpted herself to look like one, through armor and mutations, Sister Chew wasn't actually a battle sister.

Though she did idolize them, after witnessing one as a child. But, that wasn't meant to be, so instead she signed on to the Astra Militarum and served for a brief but eventful time. At least, until she got blown the fuck up, sacrificing herself to save her commanding officer. She survived, and either in gratitude or to make himself look better (since there's not much use for a soldier with a single limb) he had her commission paid out and she got to go off to the colony worlds to settle down with a plot of land and a nice husband she met through a breeding contract.

She might be one of the only people in that universe to ever experience a happy ending.

Even if only briefly.

First came the plague. Then, the fighting, and the famine, until eventually....there was only her left. Once again surviving the impossible. This time, though, she could recognize the blessings she'd been given. She asked for angels to save her, and when none came, she realized that she must become one herself.

She defends and goes on mission for The Carbuncle, but in her off-time can be found hanging around the orphanage, helping to educate and raise the semiferal packs of kids they scoop up.

It soothes her.

Also really impressive to slav squat with a bone pegleg. Not pictured: her handing out cigars to children like thirty seconds later. Baby need smoko. Get those lungs nice and perforated for grandpa.

Anyways Nurgirlies forever A bunch of other people drew their Nurgirls and it was delightful as fuuuuuuck. I'm enjoying being a tourist in this fandom! Dipping my toes in!

hey wait where does this rabbit hole go-

Bonus notebook doodle of Sister Chew giving @mynamejers ' Nurgirlie a lil smooch thank you for the encouragement and inspiration

Doctor Weathers - Respected physician and apothecary, charitably running his clinic out of the Pawn's Pilaster where he's seen as a veritable saint. - Revolutionized ways to treat and slow the Rot! What a stand-up guy - LMAO yeah no he ain't curing SHIT. He's just got a narsty symbiosis with the rot that lets him control it. or, well, he thinks he's controlling it. Certainly not the other way around :))))) - He deliberately maintains a large pool of rot-infected "allies" he manipulates into being dependent on him, who retrieve supplies and test subjects for him and in turn he gets to kick around - I couldn't decide on if I needed to change up his head's silhouette at all. Maybe he just has a lot of masks. Every option is good, but the bucket really quickly becomes an AIM-style hazmat head and I DO like that.... - Literally extracts rot from his own body to use in experiments.

REHUA - I'm so normal about this perfectite evangelion angel t-1000 ass geometric motherfucker i definitely didn't draw this and immediately steal the design for more sexy cosmic robots - Calls itself a "perfectite observer", claims to be here to "Witness The End" but cannot elaborate on what the fuck that means. Seems happy enough to hang out around Dr Weathers and murder shit for him, though. And also like. Murder shit for seemingly no discernible reason - Inscrutable alien intelligence - Surrounded by or perhaps controlling or perhaps...part of a hivemind of fundamental motes? If they're separate entities or somehow an extension is. Questionable. Good luck getting an answer out of this thing - Says just as much random off the cuff shit as the original Rehua flavor it just feels more intimidating because it's made of knives

Fleet Admiral Vaali - aka "The Successful Vina" - Commands a small fleet of three airships, which, to be fair, is a LOT of airships! Goddamn! - Got her first one after betraying and murdering her mother bright and early. Helluva way to start a career. Now runs a privateer fleet that operates for whoever bids the highest - Which is typically unscrupulous governments - And, personally, she's in deep, deep debt to one Doctor Weathers- a patient of his who relies on him to keep her rot infection in check- though it has permanently consumed one of her eyes at this point. That's fine. Eyepatches are cool and sexy!!! - She insists that she's the boss of the whole rot-and-supplies smuggling operation she's got going on with him, but. Lets be real. He just lets her talk big because it keeps her compliant.

Oran and Gorgamungar - Ashamedly I didn't actually have a lot to go on for these guys so I went HARD into vibes - This vicious little shit ran away with his beloved, bonded dragon and has made quite a name for himself even at his young age as a ruthless tracker and hunter, able to find just about any quarry when he sets his mind to it - A career that would have been cut short by the rot...if Doctor Weathers hadn't intervened. Through strange, wicked sciences, Doctor Weathers was able to save them both - and in doing so, bought them even closer! - Like. Uh. Worryingly close. Sharing their minds close. Grafting dragonflesh onto Oran to restore his wounded arm close. So close they cannot stand to be apart for long - Lest they begin to decay - Doctor Weathers gets to send them out on retrieval missions alongside Admiral Vaali these days - I think they have a three-stage boss fight where the first part is battling Oran as he hunts the PCs, using Gorgamungar to strafe the battlefield and change position - Second phase is fighting Gorgamungar while Oran rides him, taking potshots while avoiding rot-dragon slime-breath - Third phase they fully merge together into a horrible dragon centaur chimera thing and it fuckin suuuuuucks - His outfit is based off fox hunting uniform! I just think it'd be funny if the difference between laid-back chillax Oran and this asshole is that this guy leaned WAY too hard into "IM GONNA BE A HUNTER ACCEPTED BY SOCIETY" and now he's kinda gone full Kraven.

I don't know what to tell you all. I just make the AUs and then cast them into the wilds. I haven't thought about it much beyond that.

Since I've seen a lot of people cheer for our boy to align with Chaos Undivided, I felt the need to give the boy some Chaos Undivided DRIP

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“Veni, Vidi, Vici - I Came, I Saw, I Conquered."

---

Zabulzazp’s had many things Vina was missing, after long weeks trudging through the swamps of the Solitude. An actual floor instead of sucking mud, for one. A roof overhead to keep the rain off. Alcohol. It wasn’t good alcohol, necessarily- but she managed to find rum, even if it went down thick as molasses and pungent as raw mash. She didn’t even have to drink alone- Victrix had plopped down in the seat across from her before long, after taking care of some small business, and was chuckling when Vina pulled a face after a drink.

“That bad, huh?” The mercenary gestured with her own empty glass to the bottle upon the table.

“It’s…it’s fine.” Her voice came out with a croak. “Ugh.”

“Yeah. Nobody out here drinks for fun. C’mon, share-” Victrix tilted her glass, and Vina obligingly poured, trying not to think about how syrupy-viscous it poured from the bottle. “This swamp shit will get you fucked up, tho, and that’s what matters.”

“Uh-huh.” Vina helped herself to another mouthful and grimaced, keenly aware that it was sticking to her teeth, while Victrix tugged the wrappings over her mouth down and drank deep like it was nothing.

“So, where’s the rest of you chucklefucks? I figured you’d all be sharing a drink together. You know, do a victory lap. Last night in the Solitude proper or some shit before you trudge back to that precariously stacked shithole of a bastard city.” A pause. “Is the bird boy even old enough to drink?”

“He’s, well- he’s old enough. I think. Certainly old enough to…you know...”

“Old enough to have a fucked up…egg?”

“Yeah. They got a room and wanted to stay with the egg.” It was weird. It was weird even by the standards of everything Vina had seen so far. And it didn’t help that being called Vina again after so long still felt…well, it didn’t feel wrong. Which honestly made the way it knotted up in her chest all the worse. Better to not think about that. Hence: the alcohol. Between the taste and texture and the brewing tipsiness, it was getting much, much easier to stop thinking about names like Vaali and Vina and what they meant. “So, how about you?”

“Mm?”

“Yeah. You’re not coming back to Outset with us, you made that clear.”

“I did call it a precariously stacked shithole of a bastard city.”

“Ri-ight. So what are you doing? Just…bumming around until the next job comes around?”

Victrix seemed to muse over that for a moment, emptying her glass and slamming it down with a too-loud kthunk that drew a few eyes before the glances all turned away fearfully, and she sighed loud and deep. “Probably. Ain’t thought that far ahead. Some idiot’s always gonna need someone good with a blade who knows her way around. Once you leave, the next losers will come ‘round…but like I said. I don’t like to plan that far ahead. I got plans for tonight, anyways.” She shifted forwards, leaning her elbow on the table. The single candle made her monocle gleam eerily, and Vina leaned in, in turn, sensing something conspiratorial.

“Do tell?” Surely, Vina thought, Victrix led a life of strange freedom. She’d seen her throwing people around like ragdolls, pitching fits and barking insults. Part of her anticipated some kind of fight- it seemed like the kind of thing the mercenary would turn to for fun, carefully watching Victrix’s gaze as it swept across the room- and back to Vina, who had just begun to take another sip.

“Yeah. I’m planning to take you up to my room and see if your pussy’s blue on the inside just like the rest of you.”

Vina choked and sputtered.

Victrix cackled.

“Uh!?”

“C’mon. Gorgeous girl like you? Sky pirate and all that shit? You can’t tell me you don’t fuck.” Victrix stood, hands on her hips, and cocked her head to the side. Her mouth was still exposed- chapped lips, interrupted by an old scar, and a wide, hungry grin. “I’ve been waiting all week.”

“I’m just. Surprised?”

“Well. Word of advice. Don’t fuck on the road- not in the Solitude.” Victrix shrugged, as if this were something well-known and plainly stated. “Best case, you’ll get ticks in weird places. Worst case-”

“I don’t think I want to know the worst case.”

“-you’ll get swamp cooch. And that shit takes ages to clear up.”

Vina stared at her, stunned. Stunned and flustered.

Victrix snickered, and turned- her peg leg scraping deliberately too-loudly against the floor as she headed for the stairs, pausing only once she was a few steps away to turn over her shoulder and bark. “Hurry up, blue! Let's go put your footprints on the ceiling.” Vina found that she couldn't follow fast enough- she simply gathered up her bottle and scurried after the tall woman and tried not to think about the fact that her face was burning and that the eyes of other mercenaries and traders flicked their way, before going back to minding their own business. Maybe this was something they were used to. Vic certainly had a way with words (a vulgar, crass, and often cruel way with words) but it got the job done.

They scarcely made it through the door before Victrix kicked it shut and fell on Vina with such hungry fervor that she struggled to respond.

Vina thought, feeling more than a little tipsy, though she could scarcely blame the rum; It had been a while, hadn’t it? A long while, she was realizing, since the last time she’d had someone against her like this- long before coming to outset. She found herself backed up against the wall with Victrix’s exposed mouth against her throat, strong hands squeezing her hips, letting out a shaky sigh. There really was something to be said for Victrix's raw, direct desire that any thoughts Vina had about trying to play it cool and be seductive were steamrolled away. Vic groped and grabbed and hauled Vina’s coat off her shoulders between bouts of sucking at her neck, growling when she did so.

“Gods fuck- you’re pretty. Pretty like a clear sky.” She mumbled against Vina’s skin, drawing her tongue across the exposed collarbone. “Those tattoos go all the way down?”

Vina giggled, squirming, feeling heady and buzzed better than any drink could get her. Light as a cloud, free as an airship. “I think- oh! I think you’re about to find out, yo-ourself!”