Archive for November 16th, 2011

#16 Clive

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments


So this is why it’s called a CHALLENGE!!!

I have fallen behind big time. About a week’s worth. But here we go, let me try to catch up…

In adding to the 99% theme that I started on with the first post, here is Clive.

Clive is a genius MIT engineering graduate who cannot find a job in his field as most of the jobs in his industry have gone overseas. So he’s had to settle for a job paying minimum wages to try to keep from going into default on his student loan. The reality for the 99%…

Day 13-Greg the Grumpy Hipster

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This is Greg the Grumpy Hipster. He works at the one local bookstore that wasn’t forced out of business by the big box stores. They are in trouble though, Greg’s impatient, and grumpy attitude is turning away customers. His horrendous body odor adds to his offensiveness.

Day 16 – Renny

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

He was brought to life by the dreams of children. He is an animated doll. He is very kid like and loves to play. He also enjoys wearing many clothes, mostly his prince outfit.

Day 16: The Hyena

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

The identity or identities of the assasin known as The Hyena is shrouded in mystery.  Stories of the trail of blood and murder of this almost urban legend character go back to the early 40’s in Ethiopia.  Where villages that had been attacked by invading Italian facist forces and sacked were said to have been visited by what was described as an almost ghost like figure who would massacre entire groups of up to 50 men single handedly in a ritualistically bloody manner.  This persisted on until the end of the war.  From there things were quiet for a few years .  Then other tales began around the beginings of the cold war of an assasin who also fit the physical description of the Hyena, who was contracted by everyone from The CIA, The FBI, The KGB, various organized crime groups, corporate intrest, MI5 and anyone who could afford his price.  No known photos were known to exist.  Then in 1972, for reasons yet unknown, but again unsubstantiated claims point to an organization known as ICE contracted him to take out several masked crimefighters.  He is said to have killed the original Juryman, and to have perminently crippled the silver age Jack of Hades along with up to 5 other heroes, before disapearing again into shadow and hushed murmurs.  Some said he was involved in everything from the Iranian Revolution to several high profile assasinations.  It is not even known that if he is the same man who has operated the same 70 years, or a series of killers? Recently he has been seen in several hotzones accross the globe again under the contract of ICE (International Covert Espionage).  He lives in shadows and few have ever lived to tell the tale.  Fewer still are bold enough to tell it!..

#16- Weaven Binchley

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

This one is veryyyy lazy because I had to do a lot of homework, and that toke up a lot of my time urhhhhggggg

This is Binchly!  Once again, another space pilot, wow!!!!  She doesn’t come up until later in this space story however.

She’s lives on the moon, and she’s a very MEAN LADY!!!!!!! YEAH!!!!!!

#16 – Judge Toddy

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

A mentor and a herald/harbinger. Key player in the local “Good Ole’ Boys” network, he’ll tell you (maybe) how to get something done easier through one of his friends – or how it used to be done before it got all “improved”. Take his advice or not. Your choice.

11# Courageous Cluck

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Hello everybody out there. Yo, this character is inspired from a cartoon show call Super Chicken. This fowl was crazy but I thought about I’ll be off my rocker if I drank too. Every time I  watch that cartoon show that bird was drinking and going psycho, good times man, lol. Well My version of Super Chicken would be call Courageous Cluck. I’ll have him  drink a magic potion to get his super strength but he want be an alcoholic,lol. enjoy everybody. One…

#15 – The Gray Gentleman

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Working with the Martian was a pain in the ass.

Mostly, because he took offense on being called a Martian. He had explained countless times he did not come from Mars, and neither did the creatures that invaded in 98 for that matter, that he came from a planet thousands of some alien distance measure he and his people used away from Earth, and once again repeated the name of his planet. Trying to even attempt to transcribe what came out of his mouth is an exercise in madness. So when asked what he would like to be called, he would respond he would like to be called by his name, and muttered more illegible gibberish. And that’s how people usually got right back to calling him a Martian.

His biggest issue with being called that, he explained is that it was also the name the common folk used to refer to the Invaders, the other aliens that almost burnt England to the ground. He took great offense in being compared to them in any way. He hated them, more than he hated anything. From his own recollection, he’d been chasing them from halfway across the galaxy until finally managing to catch them here. Many times he admitted both privately and publically, that at that particular junction he didn’t really cared for us. We were many, and we wanted the Invaders dead. That was enough to consider us allies.

And without the Martian’s assistance, England and the World probably wouldn’t have survived the invasion.

Now, Her Majesty’s Secret Service, on the other hand, had a very different name for him. They’ve codenamed him “The Gray Gentleman”. He’d joined just as soon as the century turned, after we were done with all the rebuilding, but only under one condition: He would serve Queen and Country only in matters of extraterrestrial treat and he refused to borrow his services in any matters that pertained to our planet’s science and politics. He also refused to let anyone examine his very peculiar sidearm, which he carried with him at all times for fear of it being stolen.

Many thought Gray, as many finally settled on calling him as the years went on, was just being a prick. England had all of this extraterrestrial technology in their hands, scientists and scholars pouring over it day and night trying to get even a small glimpse of how it all functioned and he refused to lift whatever he had instead of fingers to help us in that effort. That’s because Gray knew better than anyone that no sooner had he explained the British how to use the Invader’s weapons, they would’ve turned their armies against all nations and brought the entire World under their flag. He knew we weren’t ready yet. He knew whatever we could learn from that technology, we would have to earn it on our own. And again, while most people hated him for that attitude, other really respected him.

For the most part, Gray lived a very quiet, boring, English life. He had a small flat only a couple blocks away from Scotland Yard, where he worked in a consulting capacity for the detective department. He did this entirely pro-bono. His Secret Service stipend was more than enough for him to live a very posh lifestyle, but for him it was something to do to pass the time in between alien sightings. And not only did it kept his mind nimble, it also helped him to slowly understand mankind a little better.

He was fond of the tuba, tea and biscuits, reading and, especially, stargazing. He would sit in the roof of his flat, with a gigantic telescope of his own invention and just look into the emptiness of space for hours, a look of nostalgia on his face every time he did. No one ever asked him. It was very clear not only by his attitude but by the way he never tried to leave our planet, regardless of how many spacecrafts descended on British soil, always a convenient excuse right after the flying saucer had departed. Anyone could tell that the Gray Gentleman simply had nowhere or no one to return to.

Gray died on December 20th, 1961, on a private room in St. Mary’s Hospital in London. On his bedside were the director of MI6, the Prime Minister, Her Majesty the Queen and Nina Mumford, her housekeeper and close friend. He had a private funeral where his body was cremated and his ashes spread from the top of the London Bridge.


1934: Gray’s first and last ambassador mission for the Secret Service.

The fact he showed up naked is, in hindsight, the indicator that this was not gonna end right.



Day 16: Chicken Feathers

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Chicken Feathers, Ken for short, is Shing’s brother. The first human they met called him Chicken Feathers, in reference to the hair under his ears. Like his sister, he has been forced into elementary school, however, he makes no effort to hide his antennae, preferring to just tell people they are a birth defect, a claim that few actually believe. Ken wears brightly colored clothing, usually on the formal side like his sister, as the planet they are from wore formal attire nearly all the time. Unlike his sister, Ken is happy nearly all the time, and although most of the people in his fourth grade think he is weird, he has made a few good friends.


Day 16: House Mice

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

 When the humans are away the mice will….eat all their food 😛 Cotton …a cotton rat and Millie …a common house mouse live their lives in a country home where they have to keep an eye out for the resident cat and avoid traps. Otherwise it is a good life.

#16 – Voxx

| November 16, 2011 | 4 Comments

#16 Post-Apocalypse Tiger Warrior

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments
Post-Apocalypse Tiger Warrior

Post-Apocalypse Tiger Warrior

#10 Little One

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#16 – Mumpkins

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Agh sorry for the lack of awesome today. I am majorly burnt out 🙁

These are mumpkins, the little spirits that follow my character Amy around. Thought I would give some context to her characters ^_^


#12 Weevil

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Another character that’s part of my Garlic Pal universe.  He’s a weevil and he’s the scheming, dirty landlord of GarlicPal and Acorn Ed.

#15 Dorothea Graves

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Ethnologist. Widow. Investigating a murder.

Continue Reading

#16 Christopher Moros

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments
> Enter

You’re dreaming, Chris tells himself, but it’s a lie and a bad one at that. Dream or not, he’s still rooted to the ground, too scared to even shiver as the tentacles don’t belong there thing destroys building after building. The world is falling around him, and he can’t run. His legs won’t obey him. It’s like they’ve declared autonomy from the rest of his body, and that means doing absolutely nothing.

A long appendage covered in too many suckers and eyes swings out above him and becomes embedded in the brick building above him.

Chris wishes he could have thought of something clever for his last thoughts, or maybe even something mundane like I hope someone remembers to feed the cat but his mind is stuck on oh shit oh shit oh shit

The first pieces of rubble break loose, followed by the rest when the Thing frees itself, and–

> Return

“So you do this for a living or something?” asks Chris, much later, and his hands are shaking too much to light the cigarette he needs to make his hands stop shaking but he’s nothing if not persistent. How he managed to roll it is better left unmentioned.

Ananke – which is his name, but Chris isn’t entirely sure on that entire statement, the name and the his part, but whatever – frowns at the cigarette but doesn’t comment on it. “It’s more like volunteering,” he says, still dressed in the same double-breasted suit that he was wearing a few hours ago when that Thing was around and causing trouble.

Finally, after a good five minutes of constant attempts, the cigarette is finally lit. Chris takes a long drag on it, filling his lungs with acrid, earthy smoke. “That’s pretty shitty,” he says.

> Return

Ananke starts sleeping on Chris’s couch. When that arrangement started, Chris doesn’t remember. Some time after the second time Ananke saved everyone’s asses. It might have to do with how Chris is the only person who was at both scenes besides Ananke, or it might have to do with how Chris offered to buy him dinner for the second save and Ananke followed him home and never left.

Guy saves your life twice. It’d just be rude to not offer something in return, even if it is a shitty meal and a shittier couch.

> Return

Oh god help someone help please help me help us help him

> Enter

“I didn’t know there were two of us,” says Ananke, without any recognition in his eyes.

Chris’s chest tightens briefly before destroying the Thing-With-Tentacles-Where-There-Should-Never-Be-Tentacles. “Me neither,” he lies.

> Return

“–and then suddenly, I can make energy bolts come out of my hands,” finishes Ananke, complete with the necessary hand gestures and sound effects. “How did you get your powers?”

“I made a wish.” He wants a cigarette badly, but that would mean having to leave the apartment and he can’t go now.

“Like with a genie? Does that mean you get two more wishes?”

He shakes his head. F***, really need that cigarette. “Used them all up,” he admits. Damn stupid idea, too, but genies are tricky bastards. They’ll twist your words around and make anything a wish (should have remembered what Mom said, but Mom doesn’t talk to you any more, not after you stepped out of Narnia).

“On what?” he asks, and that’s it, you need a smoke now.

> Return

This was wrong, all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to die here, not now and not like this. But he is. He’s dead and the blood is still seeping out of him but that will stop soon and he’s looking at you with his brown eyes that still look alive but he’s not he’s not he’s not

> Enter

“Go home,” says Chris, before trapping that Thing in a Bubble. One rotation, and it ages instantly and turns to dust.

“No way,” replies Ananke. His eyes are so bright and wide, looking at Chris as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world.

“Don’t expect me to save your ass again,” he bites back. What a liar.

> Return

He stopped smoking, but the urge is still present. He figured out how to use his powers to speed up through getting past the physical withdrawal but right now, he really wants a smoke.

“Wanna go get dinner?” asks Ananke, like fighting monsters from the Eighth Ring is considered to be an appropriate segway to a date.


> Return

“How did you wind up here?” asks Ananke, a few weeks later. He is still sleeping on the couch, but it’s large and comfy enough that even Chris, all six feet two inches and one hundred and sixty-eight pounds of him, could sleep on it and not wake up regretting it. Ananke is much smaller, and is using Chris as a pillow. “In this city, I mean?”

How is a great question but not one that he likes to think about. “I had a fight with my parents,” he replies, summarizing a six hour long yelling match that resulted in him storming out with nothing but his wallet, his laptop, and the clothes on his back. He never got the rest of his belongings back – Mom always went overboard and burnt the whole lot – but Dad at least helped cover the cost of replacing some of it. Behind her back, of course. “I left, got the first bus I could get out of town, and wound up here.”

“How serendipitous,” and it’s so earnest that Chris can’t help but laugh despite everything.

> Return

Third time unlucky, and this time Chris is the one bleeding out, or was, but he can’t stop time forever. His concentration will lapse and suddenly it will be all over.

“F***,” swears Ananke, for the first time ever since they met. He didn’t even swear when Chris caught him stark naked one time, curling up upon himself like what was between his legs mattered to who he thought he was. It’s different now, though, because Ananke’s hands are covered in blood when he first tried to apply pressure to the large laceration.

“It’s okay,” Chris tries to tell him, but the words get caught in his throat and blood comes out instead. He chokes, and suddenly there’s no more time now. The Bubble bursts and his life starts to flow away from him again. It’s now or never (again).

“I’ll see you soon,” he can’t say. Spins the wheel backwards and

> Enter

2011 Day 16 “Ranor A’tai Denala” of Upper City from my Novel, “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 16 “Ranor A’tai Denala” of Upper City from my Novel, “Mentor”
Ranor A’tai Denala, the world’s foremost Synthetic DNA Designer

Money was no object to a family whose ancestors made planetfall here, and they agreed in secret to hire the world’s most foremost Synthetic DNA Designer, Ranor A’tai Denala. He was a most difficult man to work with, slightly mad most people said.  And what would you expect from a man who got top money for creating designer pets and designer people for the dependent, declining society of the Upper City on the planet T’rest.


Day #7: Dolores

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Sometimes Dolores feels like she’s made of bad news.

Day #16 – Bartan Virmak Coelsce

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

 Bartan Virmak Coelsce or Coel as she is known as to friends is a Ratnak, one of a sentient race of six legged scavengers. Despite their sharp teeth they are not preadators. They are however fast and smart. each of their six eyes work independantly to ensure that nothing bigger and badder can sneak up on them, although there isn’t much bigger badder out there. Ratnak are huge weighing up to 4 000 lbs. Coel herself is a fairly large specimen weight approximately 3 952. Ratnak are fond of war and are often on hand to clear the battlefield of bodies. Their land is unforgiving and harsh so they take advantage of other species disputes. Ratnak rarely keep their own company espcially since they are always trying to outsmart each other, and they aren’t keen on sharing. Being one of the oldest Ratnak Coel usually gets first dibs on battlefields. Though unlike most she avoids the fatty generals prefering the lean meat of the more muscular dead.

2011 Day 15 “a’tannattal” of Upper City from my novel “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 15 "a'tannattal" of Upper City from my novel "Mentor"

a’tannattal is the name on the certificate of ownership. the young lady whom he is destined to serve, calls him “Natti” though such informality is frowned upon. He is of the Non Class known as Synth Droids, his designation being U-AM7 z3t48L 426000. That is the alphanumeric code found on all documents pertaining to a’tannattal right back to the original synthetic DNA design sheets.

At the BioSynth Technologies Corporation he is simply known as U-AM7 z3t48L 426000. The M in a’tannattal’s number tells us that he is a mentor droid. The A that he is A-class, or that is he checks out as near as perfect as one could hope for from what is both an art and a science that tinkers with the basics of life itself. And the U? Well that is really important. The U means that the design of his synthetic DNA is unique. One of a kind. Which of course means that the DNA from that design can not be used for another Synth Droid of any type unless the present U-AM7 z3t48L 426000 has been destroyed. The original Synth DNA is kept locked away at the Bio Synth Technologies Corporation labs.

a’tannattal knows this. He made it his business to know, since, well, it is his business to know. He has the sole responsibility in this household for the tutelage of the daughter of the Governor of the Lakes District of T’rest. And a thirsty for knowledge young lady she is. He knows, but what he thinks about it no one has ever asked him, with the exception of his precocious pupil. And to her he gives no answer. They both know it is improper for her to ask him personal questions. And this meets with a’tannattal’s approval, since there are things that he thinks of which he would rather not speak to the humans.

He was brought to her the very hour she was born. He remembered that day as well as if he’d borne her himself. That day he fell deeply in love with the child. He couldn’t help it. It never occured to him to help it. It was the way his DNA was designed, and that was that. He was bonded to the child for life. Both hers and his. And though she often tried his patience to the limit. He loved her now no less and no more than he loved her when he first held her in his arms, smelled the fresh baby smell of her, imbibing the natural pherimones that were uniquely hers, cementing the bond that been designed into every fibre of his existence.

He had been told how he came into existence. The Lady Renala and her sister’s husband, the child’s father,  had wanted  to give the child’s mother, Deira, a perfect birthing gift. An older wiser companion who would be all things a growing child would need: A second mother, a protector, a teacher, a playmate, and more.

Money was no object to a family whose ancestors made planetfall here, and they agreed in secret to hire the world’s most foremost Synthetic DNA Designer, Ranor A’tai Denala. He was a most difficult man to work with, slightly mad most people said. Of course they would never say that to a Synth Droid, but rumours got around.

a’tannattal still marvelled that a full grown synthdroid could be grown in a vat in less than a month, while a human child took over nine months to get to a point where growing outside their mother’s womb would commence. Most of his learning had taken place in the holotubes where he was drilled incessantly about social protocols, natural history, social history, planetary and galactic history, basic mathematics and up and up  beyond quantum mechanics so that he would have everything on tap that his young protege might require.

And yet… How could one being be all that another could require, designed or not? He knew to his great sorrow he had failed her. Some flaw in his design? Or in hers? Perhaps if her mother had not died when she was still a babe. Perhaps there were no real answers to those kinds of questions. Or perhaps, when he found her… perhaps then he would know.

#14 The Capsule

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

A minuscule pressurized capsule navigates the rings of Saturn, with their immense ecliptic shadow cast across the atmosphere. Many try to escape into the rings to avoid capture by various entities, despite the threat of pirate bands and illegal miners. The Saturn Authority has declared a complete ban on in-ring activities, and has deployed rangers to patrol the icy wastes.

This particular capsule contains no life-signs, much to the puzzlement of the area’s designated Ranger.

This one’s more of a setting as a character in itself…

2011 Day 14 a scut, creature from UnderCity in my novel “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 14 a scut, creature from UnderCity in my novel "Mentor"

A scut

Scut:  an arachnoid creature with ten to twelve legs holding suspended a fleshy flattened ovoid cylinder of a body. Bulbous glossy black eyes on short stalks on top of the body draw the attention away from the  cutting  jaws and sucking mandibles underneath.

The body itself is fairly soft but the legs are hard chitin and can be pulled up and over the soft body to protect its self. Scuts will not attack a moving target. They are scavengers really but they have been know to attack the wounded, basically to feed on them.

They prefer to nest in the higher reaches of Under City laying their trap webs to catch the unwary Flitbirds that also nest up there. In turn the Flitbirds often feast on the flesh and ichor of  the scuts. Turn about being fair play in the war to survive.

Often one of the multitudinous scuts will fall off their high nests to the ground very very far below. If they can get their legs into the defensive mode they may even survive the fall.

The scut pictured has been attacked by a predator and has lost some of its limbs, which are now regenerating. Often an injured scut will not survive, especially if it is immobilised, as its brethren will make short work of it.

Nothing goes to waste in the UnderCity.

#16 Thad Ignacio – Murderer

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

#16 Thad Ignacio - Murderer












#16 The Last Crusader

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Its 2012 and God has chosen his disciple, young Tomas Miller. Thomas was never a man to shirk from a hard fight. His task to eliminate all the non-believers, If he can do this before December 12th 2o12, him and all other faithful peoples will go to heaven. Is this the challenge of a life time or a cruel trick?

15 Anton Provic

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

What to say about Anton Provic, he was born in Poland in 1982 and moved to Russia at the age of 15. He is the only Russian to become a member of secret service. He holds the uncanny ability to move people just like marionettes.

#11 Ant

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Another memeber of my Garlic Pal universe, Ants, Vast in number, stupid, yet loyal. Easy to manipulate to get them to do your bidding.

14 Jungle Dude

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Jungle Dude is a total bro to the animals, he was abandoned in the African jungles and has lived there for over twenty years. Hunters beware he is not a friend of humans, his clothes are made from man killed animals, and he won’t stop till they are avenged or the human beasts leave.

#17 – Eirwyn

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Eirwyn is the oldest of the Seasons, having been alive for more than six hundred years.  It’s extremely rare for a Season to live so long, but she and her twin sister were chosen to lead the Seasons and train the new ones in their powers.

She is the Winter Queen of the South Pole and rules Antarctica.  She only ventures north for the four-year summit of the Seasons.  Any person born a Season is sent to her for training.

When the Seasons start disappearing from North America she and her sister officially appoint Kaydi to lead the search for them.

She is the elder of the sisters and is strict and cold, but can be compassionate given a good enough reason to be.  She is  freezing wind, frost on windows, and ice.

#14 Fangs Fowler

| November 16, 2011 | 4 Comments

Brandon (aka Fangs) Fowler has always a bit of a standout…For one, he always arrives to school before dawn and leaves after sunset…his recess/lunch breaks are spent in the janitors closet (he enjoys his privacy) and the only lunch he brings to school are bottles of a red drink which seem awfully thick to be “cranberry juice”. Kids like to tease his odd white hair and and the 2 front teeth that stick out of his mouth…hence they call him Fangs. Nobody really knows much about this boy other than that hes also extremely allergic to garlic. Other than that, he is just another eighth grader in his ordinary school.


*Going to admit shamefully that I watched the 2nd twilight over the weekend and thats really how I got inspired for this piece..3rd movie out this weekend also…darnit I think I’m going to see it.*

#16 Aquarius

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Aquarius is 11th zodiac wolf, making her Pisces’s second in command. Aquarius is especially fond of Leo. Aquarius also has a scarier, darker side to her that is mostly seen when she becomes angry.