#brotherhood of Nod

[1stprototype]

The Black Hand has arrived.

[renegade-chaos-druid]

[thereadingaddic7]

[16-tito-16]

[theroniking]

day 2: video game villain

Kane from Command & Conquer

[plaguerenamon]

New sketchbook, New drawing.

[darksideofthemoonbot]

Nod Victory

I've missed this

[reubenyeoart]

Commission - Brother of NOD A profile pic commission for a client, of their character as the NOD Officer from  Command & Conquer: Renegade!

[beneath-soil-and-bone]

“On patrol.”

--

C&C3 Venom patrol craft my beloved

Sure they’re not all that good as units but I love the design so so much. The C&C4 one is absolute ass tho, it’s like a fucking cereal toy.

[porter-engineering]

It started with both silence and a bang.

Heyo, Tumblr

So, I made this blog primarily to have a place to shove my Space Engineers stuff. My inspirations, plans and what I've made at a given point in time. I'll also occasionally blog about some fandom related things, such as Command & Conquer (the Tiberium timeline specifically), Fallout and some others.

TERFs, racists, nazis, aphobes not welcome.

You can call me Porter for now I guess. '92 born, and I don't really mind what pronouns you use of me.

[nightingaletrash]

After killing J'ghasta and finding his Black Hand robes, Aerrun realises she's been duped. She has no way to contact Lucien save leaving a note in a prior dead drop, so she decides to try and investigate her false contracts and make contact with the targets to try and figure out exactly what's going on and who's behind it. And maybe even catch up to whoever's replacing the drops in the first place.

Except she's always a step behind, and the other Silencers and Speakers are all convinced that she's there to eliminate them and so they attack, unwilling to listen for fear of being killed, so she's forced to put them down in self-defense. By the time she reaches Ungolim, she's really tired of these other Black Hand members just attacking her outright, so she tries to sneak up and subdue him... but she is a big nord and he is a little bosmer and she's not used to Not killing someone, so he accidentally ends up dead anyway. Cue Lucien showing up in a rage because he's pretty sure she did it on purpose because hey, it looked very intentional, only for her to be like 'babe I swear, I was just trying to talk to him, it's not my fault he's got glass bones.'

[1stprototype]

Won’t lie, I’d be a little tempted to join Nod if they were real just for the sick ass armor alone. 

[direct-and-dominate]

Images from the latest video!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-WniNBHoPc

[thereadingaddic7]

(Badly) Designed Future

Coming back to (modded) Tiberian Sun after Twisted Insurrection, and it's amazing how I can sort of start to see Nod's point about Tiberium and GDI. Tiberium is, of course, a hostile terraforming agent designed to wipe out all or most indigenous life on whatever planet it lands on, but as the various mutants prove, it's not inherently fatal to non-Tiberium lifeforms and can be beneficial to those that are.

Human life in both timelines is a pretty shitty lot. Locked into walled off cities crammed full of refugees fleeing Tiberium expansion, scarce food and drinkable water as governments collapse into anarchy, Warlords and Nod reign supreme. Outside of that though, the worlds are day and night. Twisted Insurrection Earth isn't the Earth we know, it's a hellscape hostile to human life and liable to rip your throat out and lay eggs in your stomach, but it's an alive hellscape. Tiberian Fiends and Raptors compete for glowing green and blue fields to make their nests, Wyverns patrol the skies seeking out the alone and unwary, Whalloons drift among blossom trees feeding on the spores like whales on krill, veinholes cover the ground for miles and miles, and the very earth itself shakes when the Mantis colonies march off to war. It’s a dangerous and untamed frontier, but as the Forsaken demonstrate, it’s not *untamable*.

Tiberian Sun's earth on the other hand is a dead rock drifting through space. Most landscapes are blasted deserts with scattered dying trees. There's practically no native life to be found beyond the armies fighting over the scraps, but Tiberium life is also shockingly absent. Fiends and Forgotten are around, the two mutants working closely together for mutual survival. Veinholes are cultivated by Nod who use their veins to craft Tiberium based chemical weapons, Visceroids pop up every now and again but there's no way to tell if they've been there a while or if they're some poor bastard who just turned, and Floaters don't even show up until the expansion pack where Nod has to go to the most heavily Tiberium infested region on the planet and *call* them out.

Tiberium resulted in massive social and ecological collapse, it's arguably on par with real life mass extinction events, but where Nod embraced the new normal and actively utilizes Tiberium and Tiberium based life in an attempt to become a Tiberium based humanity (and who's efforts contributed to the collapse), GDI are arguably causing a collapse of their own in their attempts to turn back the clock. If we treat Twisted Insurrection as a genuine "What If?" scenario, then the absence of Tiberium Lifeforms that were cropping up in the immediate wake of the First Tiberium War is likely because GDI has been doing their best to kill them off before they can amount to anything, leaving nothing to fill in the niches left behind.

[16-tito-16]

Well, hardly anyone would be interested in Tiberian Sun (TS), it's a very cool RTS. In short, since I'm a fan, and everyone knows what fans are who can draw, create their characters in different universes.

Anyway, these are my TS characters. The plot isn't worked out yet, but the synopsis , crooked but there is :

CABAL is back, but he acts in the shadows gaining power after the battle with GDI and Nod. CABAL uses a cyborg (a man who realizes he's half robot) to manipulate the Brotherhood. But two humans, a mutant (Forgotten) and a Brotherhood officer Nod, want to stop him.

Briefly about the characters

Faceless or Commander - a cyborg under the control of CABAL. even though most of his body is made up of iron and wires, he still thinks and acts like a human, so as not to stand out

Al - Scientist, works mostly with mutations , Bioengineering, very rich in emotion.

Wins - Mutant, worked for the Brotherhood of Nod not by choice

Ias - Officer of the Brotherhood of Nod, former officer since he escaped with a mutant

There are also more characters

Mother and Daughter GDI researchers

Knights and Priestess of the Black Hand

[tojisun]

thinking about biker! simon going out with his girl and the other guys at a biker bar. reader hasn't really seen how scared people are of simon - who they all call ghost - until she goes to get him another drink. while she's at the bar, a guy comes over trying to hit on her. then this hulking, 6'4 guy in a skull mask appears and the guy is ready to run out of the bar. simon didn't even have to talk just glare. while readers like ???

ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE THIS WAS SENT IM SORRY FOR JUST REPLYING NOW :(( BUT YES ABSOLUTELY YES!! my stomach swooped when i saw this hhhhh im actually kicking my legs n twirling my hair n everythingg!!

naturally, im bad at making drabbles because this turned out long again :’) im sorry

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

simon’s hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you further into the bar. you shuffle along his languid steps, head swivelling as you try to find familiar faces in the crowd – so far, none yet.

simon chuckles from beside you, and you peer up at him only to see his eyes crinkled from underneath his balaclava, no doubt smiling at you. he bows his head closer towards yours, trying, in vain, to devour as much of the space made by the height difference between you two.

“what?”

“nothin’, sweet girl.” he presses his covered lips on the top of your head, breathing you in. “come on, i see ‘em.”

he shifts the two of you, the hand that’s settled on the small of your back gliding until it hooks around your waist, pulling you ever so closer to him. protective. possessive. it makes you hum in delight, happiness thrumming underneath your skin.

(you don’t notice the way many people shift to get out of simon’s way; heads downturned as though afraid of even meeting his eyes. you don’t notice the way they turn to each other when you two passed by, as though making sure that it was simon they saw. simon – ghost – with a sweet darling pressed to his side, his bulk warding away stray gazes. you don’t notice the way they huddle with each other, whispering promises that ghost’s girl should always be protected. because yes they fear ghost, but more than that, loyalty to each other is stronger.)

he leads you towards a small pack by the far side, the table doused less in light than the rest of the bar. johnny’s already turned towards you and simon, watching with a grin as you two make it across. kyle’s seated beside him, the younger man leaned to watch the ongoing hockey game. then you see the back of john’s familiar head, his beloved boonie slung around his neck.

“finally made it, huh lass?” johnny says in greeting, snagging the attention of both kyle and john, the two of them chiming in their own hello’s. you smile, waving at them as you claim the empty seat between simon and john.

“had to make a quick stop at 7-11,” simon responds, his hand curling at one of the legs of your chair before pulling you towards him. the metal squeaks against the tiles, the sound thankfully drowned out by the loud bass.

“oh did you?” john asks, ignoring whatever simon did given how they’re all so used to his soft displays of possessiveness. he offers you a smile when you turn to him with a nod.

“had to buy, um, medicine for my stomachache.”

it’s endearing how their faces shift so fast, little smiles falling as worry takes over. even simon, whose hand is draped on your thigh, tenses, gripping as though he was remembering how he heard your pained whimper or saw you sniffling as the ache echoed, throbbing just below your ribs, choking you up.

“are you feeling any better? did it subside now, at least?” kyle asks.

you nod, quick to reassure them. “the medicine worked! i’m feelin’ better, i promise!”

they relax, tensed shoulders going lax as life flutters back into the table. you smile before sinking ever so closer to simon’s side, shying away from the intensity of their affections for you – your own little band of brotherhood, visceral in the way they care for you.

simon’s grip loosens on your thigh, choosing instead to massage the muscle tenderly. you hum, turning to ask him what he’s getting.

“whiskey, maybe,” he murmurs, his voice muffled by his mask. “you getting your bellini today, love?”

“yes please,” you reply, blinking up at him.

his eyes crinkle again, a telltale sign of his smile, before he pats your thigh and gets up to place the order.

you turn to the group, tuning into johnny’s rambling, listening to him recounting his rally. it was the one you weren’t able to go to because of work, johnny having to reassure you multiple times (even through text) that it’s fine that you’re missing it. so you listened, enraptured, nose scrunching in confusion whenever johnny slips into heavy scottish in his excitement.

“english, mactavish,” simon sighs as he falls back to his seat, startling you. you see johnny flip him off and you make eye contact with kyle, sharing twin looks of exasperation.

simon slides you your bellini and you whisper a thanks, trilling when he noses the top of your head again – your clingy boy.

the conversation rises and falls, sometimes leaving your mind wandering when they start talking about shop, sometimes catching your attention so much that you find yourself leaning on the table, breathless and wide-eyed as you listen to their bike stories – johnny had continued about his rally, kyle talked about the repairs he did for a client who he’s sure is on the run, and john shared that horrifying experience he had on his way home where he thinks he saw a floating woman by the east side highway.

“your turn, big guy,” you say, tapping simon’s knee.

simon finishes his whiskey – his balaclava tugged just enough to show his chin and his lips – before plopping the empty glass on the table with a sigh. you huff a fond laugh, knowing that one glass isn’t enough to satiate the thirst so you dust imaginary dirt off your skirt before standing up.

he tilts his head up in question, arm still hooked around your waist.

“gonna grab us more drinks,” you say. “oh, tell ‘em about the gas station incident!”

he grunts, nodding, and yet he refuses to budge. you fondly roll your eyes and turn to the others. “drinks?”

they all shake their head, johnny specifically saying he’d have to order for himself because he’d want to try the house specialties. you nod, pinching simon’s arm as you dance away from him with a bitten grin, before making your way to the bar.

you prattle away your order, telling the bartender to add the tab to your table, and hover, swaying to the music. it’s a foreign rock band playing, the bass and drums reverberating loudly, you can feel the vibrations pulsing along your body, and you almost get lost in your own thoughts when a hand slides to your back.

you startle, mind quickly cataloguing that this isn’t simon. because simon, for all his impressive silence and his displays of possessiveness, never sneaks up on you like this. he has never let you doubt your safety while with him. so you back away from the stranger’s touch, your hands pressed close to your chest before finally turning to see who went up to you.

the man, who seems to be about your age, smiles upon seeing your face. “hey there, angel.”

the pet name makes you nauseous and your stomach churns once again. you have to ask for the medicine from simon when you return to the table.

“hi,” you squeak, not letting him off your sight.

“you seem new here. i am too.” he laughs, scratching his neck. then, “it really ain’t my scene.”

“uh-huh,” you say, not knowing what else to tell him.

his chuckles peter out, a suave smile replacing what had been an awkward display of forced laughter. he clears his throat. “so, what’s a sweet thing like you doing alone here?”

“she ain’t alone, kid,” the bartender answers for you and you turn to him, surprised, before thanking him as he presents you with your whiskey and bellini.

the bartender nods to you in reply before crossing his arms in front of his chest and addresses the stranger again. “go bother someone else.”

the man arches a brow in question, his lips pursing in distaste. “oh yeah? she seems pretty available to me.”

the phrase hits you badly.

your anxiousness bleeds away to make room for your ire and you snarl, dropping your hands from where they’re pressed on your chest to rest them on your hips.

“what did you just say?” you ask, your voice a measured anger. “i’m fucking what now?”

he raises his hands up like he’s pacifying you. “hey, hey. didn’t mean that, my pretty girl-”

“she’s not your anything, you mad wanker.”

the sound of simon’s voice makes you settle, a wave of safety and comfort washing over you, dousing the angry churning in the pit in your stomach. simon steps from behind the stranger, towering over him, before moving to stand beside you. his hand hovers, questioning, and you give him a soft nod that gets simon pulling you close to him. his hand falls to the small of your back, caressing, and you wonder if he knows that the man had grazed his hand there just minutes ago. if simon’s doing this to overwrite the unpleasant feeling that was sticking to you.

“oh,” the stranger breathes out and you notice the way his hands are trembling, the tight balls of his fists turning his knuckles white. “i, uh, i’m sorry, ghost.” then he’s off, running out of the bar with his tail tucked between his legs.

you huff at the realization that the mad man didn’t even apologize to you. what a fucking prick.

“you doin’ alright there, baby?” simon asks, pulling you to him. he settles on an empty bar stool – you are sure those were filled just minutes ago… – and tugs you so that you are standing between his legs.

he cups your cheeks, thumbs tracing lines just underneath your eyes, and it makes you drag a shaky inhale.

“i’m sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve accompanied you.” simon sounds distressed, his eyes furrowed in the intensity of his worry.

you coo at him, it’s your turn to cup his jaw this time. “i’m alright, si. i promise.”

he shifts his eyes between yours, searching for anything besides the truth, and he folds himself into you when he sees that you mean it. you laugh, patting at his head, wishing that he doesn’t have his balaclava so you can play with his hair, before turning to the bartender who, in the sudden absence of customers by the counter, is watching you two with a pinched smile.

“thank you again,” you tell him and he grunts, nodding. simon straightens up and groans as he stands, his big body unaccustomed to the tiny bar stools.

“yeah,” he says, addressing the bartender. “thanks for bein’ here for my girl, alex.”

the bartender – alex – just waves his hand around in dismissal. “it’s nothin’, really. now go away, i want customers.”

simon and alex laugh, sharing an inside joke, and you swivel your head around in confusion because now that alex had mentioned it, where did everyone go? and why are they all huddled together, far from the bar?

simon closes his hand on your wrist and pulls. you barely manage a goodbye to alex who waves at you in reply.

…alex?

“wait. that’s alex?”

best believe that simon has connections anywhere he goes. if not for himself, it’s for his girl!!!

me, shamefully staring at the word count (1.8k) of what should’ve been a drabble: well now…