Starboned

So you can see what I’m dealing with here in terms of shitty drawing style. These are practice doodles. I’m attempting to figure out exactly how simplistic or complex I want to go, what kind of faces, hands, feet, etc to work with. It does me no good to pick one style for one drawing and a totally different one for the next. Anyway, enjoy these crappy photos of doodles.

These are the voyages of Dirtnibbler III, space explorer. Together with his crew: Lt. Uhura, communications officer; and Petty Officer Fluffybutt, he embarks on journeys throughout the universe, collecting a wide variety of crops to grow on his farmstead and baking cakes for assassins to give to the families of their victims.

To boldly go into alien-infested mines on meaningless missions to save workers with giant fucking tools who have no actual need of assistance so that penguins and rabbits will upgrade his ship, The HMD Heap. To wear crudely hammered together space armor made by a man with no background in smithing while wielding medieval weaponry and assorted junk guns people leave lying around underground in chests and shit. To paint everything purple because it’s very kingly and to wear this rad baseball cap until something better comes along.

I found those fucking miners I was sent in to rescue.

Here’s the thing though: they’re all carrying giant ass-fucking hammers and the minute they see an alien, they all whip out bazookas and assault rifles and unload on the sons of bitches. Like, I showed up, and three miners took out an army of aliens as I watched.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU PEOPLE NEED ME FOR?

The only sensible conclusion I can come to is that I wasn’t in to rescue them from the aliens, I was sent in to rescue them BECAUSE THE FUCKING DOORS ARE HARD IF NOT IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND AND THEY’VE STUMBLED THEIR ASSES AROUND IN THE BASEMENT FOR FIVE MONTHS KILLING ALIENS AND WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO OPEN THE DOOR ON THE SURFACE AND SHOW THEM THE WAY OUT.

SERIOUSLY

THESE PEOPLE DID NOT NEED ME. AT ALL

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF CORPORAL BRAD AND COMMANDER BADASS

CHAPTER 2: Cmdr Badass lead the way, descending into the lower sections of the mine fearlessly, while Cpl Brad held up the rear, dragging behind like old lady pants. Alien monstrosities rushed forth out of the darkness, only to taste green electric death from the barrel of Badass’s plasma cannon.

THE FURTHER MISADVENTURES OF KEVIN AND THE ASSHOLE

So this alien-infested mining facility is feeling pretty epic. It’d really be best with a group of Space Marines, but since there’s just ol’ King Dirtnibbler III on his own, I make do by playing all the roles.

This place is three parts Aliens, one part DOOM. You flip a switch thinking you’re activating a light or unlocking a room and instead a trapdoor pops open in the ceiling and angry green fuckbeasts come pouring out.

Suffer rapid decompression as you exit the airlock!

Feel the intense agony of your blood boiling in your veins!

Don’t hold that last breath or your lungs will violently rupture!

BURN ALL THE STUFF

I just found my new favorite toy. Ethanol ain’t got nothin on the intoxicating effect of lighting up a dark crevice with purifying flame, brothers and sisters.