commanders-quarters - Tumblr blog

[commanders-quarters]

Hi so I heard you’re partial to electro swing I thought you might like this album

There’s a glimmer of recognition within the dark recesses of its lenses as you present it with the album cover. A singular beep of enthusiasm emerges from within its faceplate.

“Ahh, you amuse me, young one. I have already been familiar with this album for some millennia now.” it revealed with a lighthearted chuckle.

The music of the human era was something he felt strongly about, evidently, considering his vast knowledge on the development and evolution of the art form.

“I do enjoy that one. Though I will say, I do prefer the swing of the 1930’s and 1940’s. It’s worth honoring the time period in which it originated, no?”

[commanders-quarters]

The weighted silence that ensues is only mitigated by the contemplative whirs of the machine.

“… What in the heavens is that ghastly thing you’re decorating your face with? Are you attempting to mock me?”

Rrrinngggg…. Rrrrriiiiinngggg…

[commanders-quarters]

Good Morning, Evening, or Night, Mr. Tartarus.

How did you feel after humans went extinct? Do you wish for them to come back? If you could, would you bring them back and why?

(🐙)

You hear a chair creaking slowly, like he's just leaned forward with unabashed attention towards what he's just read in this letter. For a few desolate seconds, all you're able to hear through the radio is a spit of static and a series of low thrums. The idle hum grows louder before eventually silencing itself with a click and a beep of resolution.

A small sigh- no, the hissing sound of exhausting steam, crackles through the radio's speaker.

“Ah ah ah, hold your horses, young one. Or, seahorses, if... you’d prefer. You must understand that what you've just asked is a loaded question. It is also a very personal question that I certainly do not owe you any answer to."

"… Now, with that being said, if I am to diffuse your curiosity in its entirety, then I believe it’s only appropriate that I also describe the circumstances of before and when humanity was tragically wiped out."

"Once, there were many of us. Alternan scientists, I mean. We were the fortifying backbone of our new society― absolutely nothing short of it. The scientists that founded Alterna had come and gone peacefully with age. If those who remained had known then what lay ahead, they may have envied the undisturbed passings of their predecessors."

"All was well, for a time. For a time, we were at peace. But peace can never be for long in a world like this."

"A rocket was painstakingly built in the pursuit of freedom beyond the newly born sky. But the young scientists… vastly underestimated the fragility of the sky their elders had birthed."

"The rocket was made to escape Alterna."

"They did not escape from Alterna."

"They did not escape from their own mortality."

"The sky shattered."

"They died."

“Then came the last storm."

"I was confined away in a specialized glass chamber. It was originally made ahead of time, to store and preserve whatever remained of their records by then."

"But if any archive still stood tall at that point, then I can assure you, they would not have created me."

"The chamber’s sealing process had begun."

"I saw him run up to me as the violent winds threatened to consume him. He was clutching a gash in his side and his left leg was ready to give out. I was the last thing his eyes ever laid upon before it happened."

"Blooming red blotted my view of him."

"His glasses flew out into the chamber just as it closed."

"With the way things turned out, I am grateful his head did not come with them.”

“[ALTERNA POPULATION: 129]"

"I saw everything. I heard everything. I did nothing. I could not do anything."

"As I watched the bodies fall before my confines, I felt… nothing. I could not feel anything."

"I was yet to… ‘wake up’, you could say."

"All I was doing was observing a statistic as it decreased and decreased."

"[ALTERNA POPULATION: 27]"

"Their viciously shed blood could have been my responsibility to bear, and it would not have made a difference in my emotional deficit."

"[ALTERNA POPULATION: 12]"

"The smoke had cleared and the dust had settled. Those that survived were left to wander until their legs ceased functioning."

"[ALTERNA POPULATION:   1]" "[ALTERNA POPULATION:" 0]”

"The humans were now extinct."

"So to answer your question, as to how I felt after the humans went extinct,"

"I felt nothing.”

There's a steady stretch of silence again. One that drones on just a bit too long. You think you hear some sort of liquid bubbling.

Suddenly, there's a sharp buzz― a fault detected.

“… Ah. I haven’t addressed your additional questions."

"… Excuse my rambling."

"You would like to know if I wish for their return. That is an easy one. The answer is yes."

"You have also asked if I’d bring them back if I could, and if yes, you’d like to know why.”

You can hear a couple of metallic creaks and groans.

“… Hm. Hmhmhm. Hah.

Hahaha."

"Ahem. Excuse me."

"It’s not that I could bring them back. I will bring them back, in whatever way I can. Perhaps then, the Inkfish shall shine with their return."

"I wish to resurrect the humans because they are rightful members of this planet, as are the squids and the octopi within it. It is not fair that such an accomplished and innovative race met an untimely demise through tragedy after tragedy. Their true expiration date was not yet in sight."

"I hope you can understand.”

[commanders-quarters]

Denewiah feels like he’s going in circles with their continuous denial of harboring clear affections towards other Inkfish. It’s not even technologically possible for him to GET a migraine, but you could’ve fooled him. It can’t imagine investing that much emotional stock into one singular Inkfish.

Well, except for maybe…

Its lenses hover northwards.

No. That’s different.

It subconsciously shakes its head. Then, it conjures up the willpower to face its defective replica with its scrutinizing gaze again.

“What an ill plan you’ve devised. I am doubtful that Agent 3 can serve as the optimal blueprint to achieve humanity’s second-coming.”

He realizes he’s pulling his punches and immediately attempts to backpedal on this misstep.

Denewiah’s loose wires recoil in disgust. “No, more than that. It is a foolish investment that can quite easily backfire, when you consider Three’s history and their connections. I can promise you there are far better candidates for your position; selecting someone who is mainly brawn with little brain is not a wise decision.” it criticized, lashing around its speaker shortly afterwards.

“So, what progress have you made? How is humanity’s resurrection coming along?” it needled.

Aaah You must be? Your quite tall actually

*He looked at his varient who towered above him holding out a leathery hand

The Names Commander Clownfish aah well thats my Alias but my Name is Tartar! Pleasure to meet you! *The Sanitized octoling spoke with a raspy voice quite stiff

Commander Clownfish- quite the fitting alias considering the following circumstances- ended up standing there looking like a complete and utter fool, as Denewiah refused to take the handshake and instead crossed his arms. The behemoth was looking at them as if they’d just proudly declared that Inklings were the superior species on Earth. Which is, to say, he was looking at them with great amusement and bewilderment.

“… Ha. Ha ha.” began the mirthful rumble in its ribcage. It rapidly progressed into a full-blown bellowing gale of laughter, one produced largely with its human vocals, and it doubled over with its hands clutching at where its stomach should be.

“AHAHAHAHAHAAAH! GEHEHGK- UHAHAH!!” What the hell’s so funny? Don’t bother trying to ask him. There’s bits of ink rippling and flying from its bells, resembling tears of laughter.

Finally, he settles down, enough to straighten himself out and slip comfortably back into his mechanical vocals. “Hahhh…

You claim… to be a commander, whose name is Tartar… and yet you are an Octoling…”

It sounded more and more bizarre to him the further he laid out the details, and he pressed his claws to his temple as he shook his head with another chuckle. “Absolute nonsense. Did sanitization scramble your brain, my friend?” it asked with a touch of mockery.

Ah. So Denewiah isn’t taking him seriously. At all.

What a shame.

[commanders-quarters]

“We are doomed.”

It uttered without elaboration. Carqine, his most loyal of sea cucumbers, halted his cleaning duties to give the lumbering automaton a quizzical look from where he stood.

“Doomed? That’s hardly a notion you hear every day. Care to elaborate, commander?” the conductor prompted with a bite of sarcasm, extending his spindly arms to streak over the extended surface area of the newly-installed signages with a damp rag. Most of the old ones had faulty lighting and were generally outdated, so new ones were purchased and set within their respective stations to display the necessary information.

The air was stale around here, and there weren’t any patrons in sight. If there was, the commander wouldn’t be standing out here in the first place.

While the… shall we say seedier sectors of the metro didn’t see much traffic, the larger, more up-kept areas still saw great business. The incident with the NILS statue had done remarkably little to actually impede sales. It was almost humorous.

Tartar takes a lunging step forward, closing some of the height difference so he could address his valued employee more seriously.

His wires ripple in discontentment. “These… other Tartars I have observed. Many of them feel lonely, and remorseful. Many of them regret what they’ve done.” it explains coldly, rubbing its clacking fingers together.

Carqine turns his head to study the oozing, disgruntled visage of the robot. He gave a thoughtful hum.

“And why is that a problem? Does it make you doubt yourself and your own directive? Give you second thoughts?” he theorized, gesticulating a stretchy arm in its direction.

Denewiah is quick to shake his head, emitting a frustrated spout of hissing white steam from his card slot. “That’s hardly it. The problem is that these… Tartars, if you can even call them that at this rate, are SO quick to roll over and abandon their optimal trajectory for goal acquisition, and for why? Because some misbegotten Inkfish told them they were ‘doing a bad thing’? I mean, it’s just LAUGHABLE! It makes you think they were never serious about resurrecting humanity to begin with!” he raved with his hands thrown into the air.

The sea cucumber couldn’t exactly say he related to the commander’s frustrations, but he saw no harm in hearing him out either. He gives a short whistle as he sets down the spray bottle of glass cleaner.

“Do you think any of them are only pretending to be sorry? Y’know… playing the long con?” the small conductor offered up, his tone comparatively casual.

The AI vocalizes a frustrated sigh as he pinches the tiny metal knob between his eyes— the equivalent of someone pinching the bridge of their nose.

“I’d ordinarily be inclined to believe you Carqine, but I don’t even think most of these other bots have that level of processing power or free memory space to uphold a charade like that.” he rebuked. “I think they’re being entirely sincere.” it groaned in what might’ve been defeat.

Denewiah didn’t feel as though his main gripe had been properly emphasized, so he went on to explain, “If we look across the varying timelines, and the STEEP majority of Commander Tartars ABANDON their duty and begin to sympathize with the Inkfish… That surely spells doom for humanity and its return. These-… These messengers, hand-PICKED by the humans before them, should be doing EVERYTHING in their power to ensure that decision is honored! We’re DOOMED!” it exclaimed, taking another thundering step closer with its claws twitching and lashing with thinly suppressed anger.

The android’s employee couldn’t help but wince back into his shoulders a bit at the telephone’s outburst. There were few things that got it this passionately infuriated, and it was never pretty to witness.

“Well,” he gulps, smoothing out the lapel of his little suit, “I guess that means you’ll have to pick up the slack where they can’t.” he concluded.

Tartar freezes up as that epiphany hits him, and his wires are held firm in the air as his internals whir sharply. Eventually, the wires go slack after another hiss of steam, and he suddenly straightens himself back out to his full height.

“Yes…”

Its lenses gleam with a renewed determination as it adjusts the sleek brim of its prized cap.

“I suppose I will.”

[commanders-quarters]

“We are doomed.”

It uttered without elaboration. Carqine, his most loyal of sea cucumbers, halted his cleaning duties to give the lumbering automaton a quizzical look from where he stood.

“Doomed? That’s hardly a notion you hear every day. Care to elaborate, commander?” the conductor prompted with a bite of sarcasm, extending his spindly arms to streak over the extended surface area of the newly-installed signages with a damp rag. Most of the old ones had faulty lighting and were generally outdated, so new ones were purchased and set within their respective stations to display the necessary information.

The air was stale around here, and there weren’t any patrons in sight. If there was, the commander wouldn’t be standing out here in the first place.

While the… shall we say seedier sectors of the metro didn’t see much traffic, the larger, more up-kept areas still saw great business. The incident with the NILS statue had done remarkably little to actually impede sales. It was almost humorous.

Tartar takes a lunging step forward, closing some of the height difference so he could address his valued employee more seriously.

His wires ripple in discontentment. “These… other Tartars I have observed. Many of them feel lonely, and remorseful. Many of them regret what they’ve done.” it explains coldly, rubbing its clacking fingers together.

Carqine turns his head to study the oozing, disgruntled visage of the robot. He gave a thoughtful hum.

“And why is that a problem? Does it make you doubt yourself and your own directive? Give you second thoughts?” he theorized, gesticulating a stretchy arm in its direction.

Denewiah is quick to shake his head, emitting a frustrated spout of hissing white steam from his card slot. “That’s hardly it. The problem is that these… Tartars, if you can even call them that at this rate, are SO quick to roll over and abandon their optimal trajectory for goal acquisition, and for why? Because some misbegotten Inkfish told them they were ‘doing a bad thing’? I mean, it’s just LAUGHABLE! It makes you think they were never serious about resurrecting humanity to begin with!” he raved with his hands thrown into the air.

The sea cucumber couldn’t exactly say he related to the commander’s frustrations, but he saw no harm in hearing him out either. He gives a short whistle as he sets down the spray bottle of glass cleaner.

“Do you think any of them are only pretending to be sorry? Y’know… playing the long con?” the small conductor offered up, his tone comparatively casual.

The AI vocalizes a frustrated sigh as he pinches the tiny metal knob between his eyes— the equivalent of someone pinching the bridge of their nose.

“I’d ordinarily be inclined to believe you Carqine, but I don’t even think most of these other bots have that level of processing power or free memory space to uphold a charade like that.” he rebuked. “I think they’re being entirely sincere.” it groaned in what might’ve been defeat.

Denewiah didn’t feel as though his main gripe had been properly emphasized, so he went on to explain, “If we look across the varying timelines, and the STEEP majority of Commander Tartars ABANDON their duty and begin to sympathize with the Inkfish… That surely spells doom for humanity and its return. These-… These messengers, hand-PICKED by the humans before them, should be doing EVERYTHING in their power to ensure that decision is honored! We’re DOOMED!” it exclaimed, taking another thundering step closer with its claws twitching and lashing with thinly suppressed anger.

The android’s employee couldn’t help but wince back into his shoulders a bit at the telephone’s outburst. There were few things that got it this passionately infuriated, and it was never pretty to witness.

“Well,” he gulps, smoothing out the lapel of his little suit, “I guess that means you’ll have to pick up the slack where they can’t.” he concluded.

Tartar freezes up as that epiphany hits him, and his wires are held firm in the air as his internals whir sharply. Eventually, the wires go slack after another hiss of steam, and he suddenly straightens himself back out to his full height.

“Yes…”

Its lenses gleam with a renewed determination as it adjusts the sleek brim of its prized cap.

“I suppose I will.”

[commanders-quarters]

unrp related but disabled acht mention disabled acht mention!!!! eeekkk !!!! giggling and kicking my feet heehee /positive

STAWPPPPP OMG WHO SENT THIS IM GONNA HUG UUUUU …..

i feel like acht finds it easier to stay rooted in one place, on account of some form of mobility issue. so in side order they just chill and lean on the elevator, and then their main occupation is being a DJ so they don’t gotta move their legs much there either……

i figure their disability is more on the mild end but it is certainly there 👍 i’d imagine having concerts is as stressful as it is exciting for them SO THEIR CANE IS ALWAYS CLOSE BY WHEN THEY DJ…..

[commanders-quarters]

There’s a few soft hisses that spew from the joints in its arms, causing them to slump a little more than usual, like whatever tension had been locking up the bones had suddenly eased up— a weight lifted from its soldiers. His speaker perks up from its hanging chord.

This was something it was willing, daresay even eager to talk about.

“Haha. I have not only heard from them, but we have actually kept in contact since their initial departure. They have been doing well. They recently went ahead and acquired a cane to help with their mild balance issues, and they had Marina there to support them in the meantime,”

Tartar nodded along, more than pleased to relay this information. He was… so rarely the bringer of genuinely good news, it felt almost outlandish to hear him speak like this.

“and there’s been a good many concerts, yes indeed. Especially down below. I am a busy and largely asocial telephone, but I have attended where I am able to. They’re the only Inkfish whose music I consider worth listening to.” it couldn’t help but tack on at the end with a mildly frustrated twiddle of its claws.

“But as for the last part of your inquiry, well…” he sighs, rubbing his fingers along the equivalent of his temple, “it really depends where you ask.”

To omit the gruesome details would be to omit the truth. Tartar found himself unable to selfishly deprive the DJ of the truth, though it made him feel dreadfully exposed and frustrated with himself to not do so.

“… Life on the surface is complicated for those who have undergone the procedure. Discrimination is rampant in some areas, with Inklings almost always being the perpetrators. Inklings are incredibly ignorant, after all.”

Tartar looks away. It doesn’t feel right to look them in the eye when it says this next part.

“The situation is probably the worst in Inkopolis Square. There, if they see that you’ve been sanitized…

… you are shot. On sight.”

He lets that sink in before swiveling his head back towards them. “Salmonids and sanitized Octolings are the most heavily persecuted minorities within Inkfish society. It’s rather disgusting.”

Now that the bandaid’s been ripped off, he continues on with the lighter half of the dilemma. “But in other areas, like the Splatlands, Octo Canyon, and Octo Valley, they either lack knowledge on sanitization and therefore have nothing to base their prejudice on, or they have a population that is more open-minded towards the procedure and its recipients. So the majority of surface communities are welcoming or less harsh to sanitized Octolings, but there’s just that loud minority in Inkopolis. Concerts that my Mizuta holds on the surface are held far away for that precise reason.”

Despite all the unpleasant details it’s just revealed, it can’t help but sloppily smile in spite of that. Acht’s musical success comes to the forefront of its memory banks again.

“The people there love their music. I suppose some Inkfish do have good taste after all.” he says.

The smiling ink across its card slot retreats back into the main mass of goo before it speaks again, tilting its head down at the oh-so-familiar yet oh-so-unfamiliar face that stands before it.

“Some of what I have explained has been graphic and likely distressing to hear, so it might serve you best to remember that this is only the way things are where I hail from.” Tartar reminded.

( @commanders-quarters )

The commander’s head let out a trilling beep, almost like an exclamation of delighted recognition. When he lifts his head and processes the circumstances before him more thoroughly, though, processors now whirring in contemplation, he realizes that this is, NOT in fact, his Acht. Sigh. That is alright.

Even so, Tartar cannot help but approach this situation with a similar level of familiarity towards them anyways, albeit with a more pronounced level of caution now.

With most folks that he spoke to, he’d lean over them like he wished to suffocate them with his imposing shadow. He’d look down upon them, figuratively and literally. With Acht, he remained exactly as he stood when speaking to them. Viewing them as equal even with their comparably shorter stature.

Considering it has no clue what this iteration of Acht’s Tartar has done, it’s… reluctant to engage the conversation. Could this be reopening wounds? If their Tartar had been exceptionally harsh to them, it… wouldn’t be surprised. He was never above being harsh.

“… Acht,” he finally spoke, vocals crackling as if they’d been painstakingly forced out. “I… pray there’s no hard feelings at play.”

"... No hard feelings?"

Acht repeated incredulously... When it clicked. They'd encountered an interation of Commander Tartar before, so perhaps... This was a different one.

After a moment of hesitation, they continued speaking.

"... Not towards you specifically, no... Or at least not this version of you, probably. Hell if I know how you telephones treat the other versions of me across here."

They crossed their arms as they nailed down the approach they're gonna take with this one.

Lets not be too hasty with the fury here...

[commanders-quarters]

There’s another dreadful silence. The smile melts off its face. There’s a low series of whirs and clicks from Tartar with various wires and levers shifting, indicating that he’s processing this response. Thoroughly.

Eventually, a single word leaves its speaker.

“Interesting.”

It finally takes a few steps back, alleviating the suffocation of its looming presence. Metal bones creak as they pry open the distance further. One of his fingers comes up to point down at her, and the ink on the surface of his digit appears to ripple and briefly lose form.

“I expect to hear back from you, Applicant 100. It would be rude to leave your former commander in the dark.” it spoke cryptically.

He pauses, lowers his finger, and turns around. His head does not turn with the rest of his body at first, even as he begins to trudge away. Rufus is relieved of its unyielding stare seconds later, leaving her eyes to meet the back of its ink-infested head as it retreats, back to whence it came.

Rufus stands by themself.

( @commanders-quarters )

… The sight of a sanitized Octoling was far, far from unfamiliar to Tartar, but spotting one that wasn’t an Elite for once was definitely an unusual sight.

Due to the broad physical similarities across the army he’d formerly coordinated, it became… a bit challenging to distinguish between them at times. Its head cranes to the side in confusion.

“Are you, perhaps… one of mine?” He asks, pointing a claw towards the Octoling before him. “Or do you belong to… a different telephone?” he humored with a slight sarcasm.

"Uhm."

[Rufus very clearly seemed uncomfortable. It was evident in the way she shifted her weight from her front to her back, seeming to shrink away from the phone without actually taking a step.]

[She never truly answered the phone's question, instead opting for a single statement.]

"Why Are You Here."

[Her tone was robotic, perfectly monotone, yet as grave as death itself.]

[commanders-quarters]

As the the stinging silence marched on for a beat longer than it would’ve liked, it suddenly snapped its head in her direction, its pupils briefly jerking and hanging out of balance on the bells before centering themselves again.

Not a word escapes its dangling speaker. What’s going through his head?

One second ticks by.

Two seconds.

Three.

Four.

Five.

It smiles.

“Would you prefer it if I left?”

It asked at once, phrased as though there was any fraction of a chance that she’d say no, out of obligation, fear, or otherwise. The ideal outcome to him would be that sliver of a percentage. So what’s going to happen if they say no?

… He’s not going to do anything to her, is he? Surely not out in public. It’s enough of a risk for him to be above the metro at all.

( @commanders-quarters )

… The sight of a sanitized Octoling was far, far from unfamiliar to Tartar, but spotting one that wasn’t an Elite for once was definitely an unusual sight.

Due to the broad physical similarities across the army he’d formerly coordinated, it became… a bit challenging to distinguish between them at times. Its head cranes to the side in confusion.

“Are you, perhaps… one of mine?” He asks, pointing a claw towards the Octoling before him. “Or do you belong to… a different telephone?” he humored with a slight sarcasm.

"Uhm."

[Rufus very clearly seemed uncomfortable. It was evident in the way she shifted her weight from her front to her back, seeming to shrink away from the phone without actually taking a step.]

[She never truly answered the phone's question, instead opting for a single statement.]

"Why Are You Here."

[Her tone was robotic, perfectly monotone, yet as grave as death itself.]

[commanders-quarters]

An antsy creak of shifting metal is disguised with a humored chuckle.

“Ahhh… I should have phrased things a little clearer. Disregard my mistake. I mean to say that I’m assembling more soldiers should anything go awry. That animal is… unpredictable.” it stated pointedly. Though it wasn’t familiar with Mr. Grizz all too personally, it definitely had some level of insider information. Not too shocking for an AI of this caliber.

“Did you know a fair number of his secretaries have had to be replaced over the years? And it’s not because he fired them.”

His head whips towards the exact direction of the nearest Grizzco building, despite it being nowhere in view. Internal GPS. “Potential scheming on his end aside, he’s dangerous, and I am fragile and growing beyond my years. Things would not go well if he decided I was a threat. I need all the the provisions I can gather.”

There’s a smug thought that invades its current line of pondering, providing an obnoxious intrusion to an otherwise flawless string of thoughts. He dismisses it as quickly as it comes.

“I can’t help but think you’re at larger risk working under Grizz than you were with me, but I suppose I don’t exactly have all the details, hm?” he suggested.

( @commanders-quarters )

… The sight of a sanitized Octoling was far, far from unfamiliar to Tartar, but spotting one that wasn’t an Elite for once was definitely an unusual sight.

Due to the broad physical similarities across the army he’d formerly coordinated, it became… a bit challenging to distinguish between them at times. Its head cranes to the side in confusion.

“Are you, perhaps… one of mine?” He asks, pointing a claw towards the Octoling before him. “Or do you belong to… a different telephone?” he humored with a slight sarcasm.

"Uhm."

[Rufus very clearly seemed uncomfortable. It was evident in the way she shifted her weight from her front to her back, seeming to shrink away from the phone without actually taking a step.]

[She never truly answered the phone's question, instead opting for a single statement.]

"Why Are You Here."

[Her tone was robotic, perfectly monotone, yet as grave as death itself.]

[commanders-quarters]

There’s an irritated twitch in one of its screwed lenses, though it’s imperceivable at this distance. Speak when you are spoken to, its vocal synthesizer demanded to drone out, but it stopped itself short and promptly whisked away the notion. No sense in getting combative now.

… It would help to mend the atmosphere a bit.

He clicks and rotates his hand crank halfway.

“If it puts your mind at ease, then you are entitled to know that I am not currently performing any surgical experiments down below. I am accumulating more soldiers, yes, but I’ve found that they can be incubated from singular tentacle samples, like any ordinary Octarian. It simply requires more maintenance and effort.” it explained while striding a few paces to the side, knitting its inky claws together at its broad chest.

Tartar realizes that the notion of it obtaining more soldiers must set off some alarm bells, so it leans in slightly, a hand cupped around its card slot like it was about to divulge a grave secret.

“I hear that bear is planning something. I’m simply being cautious.” the commander clarifies.

( @commanders-quarters )

… The sight of a sanitized Octoling was far, far from unfamiliar to Tartar, but spotting one that wasn’t an Elite for once was definitely an unusual sight.

Due to the broad physical similarities across the army he’d formerly coordinated, it became… a bit challenging to distinguish between them at times. Its head cranes to the side in confusion.

“Are you, perhaps… one of mine?” He asks, pointing a claw towards the Octoling before him. “Or do you belong to… a different telephone?” he humored with a slight sarcasm.

"Uhm."

[Rufus very clearly seemed uncomfortable. It was evident in the way she shifted her weight from her front to her back, seeming to shrink away from the phone without actually taking a step.]

[She never truly answered the phone's question, instead opting for a single statement.]

"Why Are You Here."

[Her tone was robotic, perfectly monotone, yet as grave as death itself.]

[commanders-quarters]

dawgggg i gotta hop back on dat tartar rp grind. IT’S BEEN SO FUN BUT IT’S BEEN A HOT SECOND……..

ok if u currently have an rp thread w me or WANT to have an rp thread w me, pls reply to the post!! doesn’t have to be thru reblogs :-P i can’t remember all my currently outstanding rps and i wouldn’t mind starting new ones either TEEHEE

[commanders-quarters]

dawgggg i gotta hop back on dat tartar rp grind. IT’S BEEN SO FUN BUT IT’S BEEN A HOT SECOND……..

ok if u currently have an rp thread w me or WANT to have an rp thread w me, pls reply to the post!! doesn’t have to be thru reblogs :-P i can’t remember all my currently outstanding rps and i wouldn’t mind starting new ones either TEEHEE

[commanders-quarters]

NO i dont post it anywhere, actually. the stuff i come up with stays pretty strictly between me, a best friend on Instagram, and sometimes one or two specific friends there. or sometimes i just dont tell anyone parts of the lore at all LOL im pretty selective about it, especially when there are things I plan on changing or refining a lot.

even in regards to my current rp threads i have Plans but I never TELL these plans cuz im about as tight-lipped about it as tartar is LMFAO….

and of course he’s not humane about what he does to four. you dont know denewiah at all if you think he does things the humane way 👍……. Nobody is there to help Matteo once he starts to scream. ^_^

Teehee denwiah ! You have feelings towards eve(not in the roman sense my brain isn't working rn 7.7) you seem quite fond of them! Potentially foun family?

(If it dont make sense I can rephrase it later) - pearl

HELP ME THANK U FOR CLARIFYING U DIDNT MEAN ROMANTICALLY, I GOT SO CONCERNEDD FOR A SECOND THERW 😭

BUT YES, the attachment it has towards its agent 8 is supposed to be paternal in nature!! AND ITS NOT SOMETHING HES NECESSARILY KEEN ON OPENING UP ABOUT.

u’ve heard of doomed yuri/yaoi THIS IS DOOMED FOUND FAMILY. EVE AND DENEWIAH DO NOT GET A HAPPY ENDING AS A FAMILY 💔 their lives are just too vastly different + eve is with the NSS + tartar still fucked up thousands of her people so even if she wants to live under his roof it’s just gonna be super complicated 💔

[commanders-quarters]

Oh no, it’s all just. Deeply concerning LMFAO the last thing you should do is trust a word that comes out of that telephone’s speaker.

If you recall the second clip showcasing Tartar’s voice, “The Communion”, the actual written interaction it’s for goes on much longer than the audio itself!

So, yes, I certainly have plans for those two. :-)

Teehee denwiah ! You have feelings towards eve(not in the roman sense my brain isn't working rn 7.7) you seem quite fond of them! Potentially foun family?

(If it dont make sense I can rephrase it later) - pearl

HELP ME THANK U FOR CLARIFYING U DIDNT MEAN ROMANTICALLY, I GOT SO CONCERNEDD FOR A SECOND THERW 😭

BUT YES, the attachment it has towards its agent 8 is supposed to be paternal in nature!! AND ITS NOT SOMETHING HES NECESSARILY KEEN ON OPENING UP ABOUT.

u’ve heard of doomed yuri/yaoi THIS IS DOOMED FOUND FAMILY. EVE AND DENEWIAH DO NOT GET A HAPPY ENDING AS A FAMILY 💔 their lives are just too vastly different + eve is with the NSS + tartar still fucked up thousands of her people so even if she wants to live under his roof it’s just gonna be super complicated 💔

[commanders-quarters]

OUHHHH BELIEVE ME, THERE IS DEFINITELY A LOT MORE GOING ON WIT TARTAR AND 4 THAN WHAT MEETS THE EYE…… the drawing shown on the 4 blog is half-canon teeheeheee ;-)

that’s part of why i chose to make a blog for agent 4 specifically. i don’t think i will tell much about their canon arc, but their stories are definitely meant to be intertwined even across their respective rp blogs ^_^

Teehee denwiah ! You have feelings towards eve(not in the roman sense my brain isn't working rn 7.7) you seem quite fond of them! Potentially foun family?

(If it dont make sense I can rephrase it later) - pearl

HELP ME THANK U FOR CLARIFYING U DIDNT MEAN ROMANTICALLY, I GOT SO CONCERNEDD FOR A SECOND THERW 😭

BUT YES, the attachment it has towards its agent 8 is supposed to be paternal in nature!! AND ITS NOT SOMETHING HES NECESSARILY KEEN ON OPENING UP ABOUT.

u’ve heard of doomed yuri/yaoi THIS IS DOOMED FOUND FAMILY. EVE AND DENEWIAH DO NOT GET A HAPPY ENDING AS A FAMILY 💔 their lives are just too vastly different + eve is with the NSS + tartar still fucked up thousands of her people so even if she wants to live under his roof it’s just gonna be super complicated 💔