Archive for November 13th, 2013
A deliveryguy who no one knows the face of and always gets the package there on time.
This is an experiment that was a part of a challenge to see if someone could build a machine in the form of a remote control for TVs, and program it to change the channel at their request. Unfortunately, the machine malfunctioned and it likes to ruin people’s TV times by changing channels to TV shows they hate the most.
If the horn doesn’t give it away, Chany is a unicorn. Yes, it is cliche, but I loved “The Last Unicorn” so much when I was a child I just had to go there.
Even in Lazare, unicorns are rare, as it takes them around a hundred years to mature sexually. Chany is only about seventy, so she has yet to produce a foal, but she and her mother make a tidy living by providing shavings from each other’s horns. Unicorn horn shavings are used in many things that faeries make, which tend to be potions/elixers/salves/powders so they are relatively valuable. Unicorns are also highly requested in their human forms as performers. They do not sing, it is most similar to the resonance that one feels from a chackra chime after it’s been struck. They are also the only creature in Lazare that is never requested in a brothel setting because they are so revered as a species, and thus there has never been a mixed breed as far as unicorns go.
Quoah is a decorated warrior. Like his fathers & his fathers’ fathers. You can tell by the tattered war banner he adorns as a cape. They don’t just fasten that onto the back of any grunt. After singlehandedly putting down the Shleepori Revolt on EGP-0210, carpet bombing every square inch of the moon of Ponpurrum’s surface in the Great Replicant Conflict, & repelling the Confederated Bandit Hordes out of known space, his legacy is undoubtedly secured amongst the United Planets’ Alliance. After several millenia of fighting though, Quoah was actually kicking around the idea of retiring. He needed to rest. But that wasn’t going to happen.
Quoah has fought for many reasons: precious resources, territory, to prove a point, profit, he’s even engaged in a holy war or two. This, now, is entirely different though. Because now, all he wants is some peace & goddamn quiet! But can a war hero get any? No! Why? Because some puny, pissant, young civilization in the galactic backwater has made an egregious error: loudly & naively broadcasting their inane detritus (as well as their exact location & the extent of their warring capabilities, quite stupidly) incessantly like a drunkard screaming to himself in the center of town. Obviously, most of these transmissions were meant to only be seen by the civilization responsible. Clearly, because most of it would be too damn embarrassing to let leak out. And yet, these inconsiderate punks seem to have the gall to believe they’re the only ones living in their god-forsaken stretch of the universe. They’re completely unaware & insensitive to the fact that maybe, other sentience a) might be out there, b) have no wish to hear of or from them, & c) may actually use those very same frequencies for telepathic communication. Perhaps to them, it all comes across as cacophonous mental noise pollution to them, driving them to want to commit large scale genocide.
The United Planets’ Alliance has special policies regarding how to deal with a civilization who has yet to achieve the same level of achievement as the founding homeworlds, but this time Quoah feels it’s perfectly okay to make an exception. He’s had his mechanized battle armor refurbished & reshaped into something similar to the shape of the lousy children because he always likes to fight his enemies on their terms, to prove he’s more skilled as a warrior. He’s taking a fleet of FTL space cruisers to reign down holy hell upon these punks, but he’s pretty sure he could smash their entire, meaningless society with his own two, mechanical hands if he were to ever set foot on this “Earth” himself.
Ultimately, the joke is on Quoah though. Even if he does succeed with his plans of wiping out all of humanity in the timeframe he estimates, there’s still roughly another 20 years left of signal bombarding his beloved homeworld. By the time he makes it back, he’ll be just in time for the dawn of reality television & the rise of the Kardashians.
Playing off the Stephen Hawking notion that our own unchecked broadcast radio chatter might be our own undoing. But more from a noisy neighbor standpoint. Haven’t heard an alien invasion intent on just shutting us up before. The drawing took way longer than it should have for me. I wanted to toy with perspective some but wasn’t happy with any of the results. Also got kind of bummed I didn’t do anything to make his form truly alien but tried to save that in the story. I imagine his physiology is this huge frog like mouth/neck/shoulders/torso with a multitude of tiny spindly legs & arms controlling levers & things inside his suit. Think Ed Bighead from Rocko’s Modern Life. That shape sorta, I guess.
Not quitting yet but I’m quite a ways away from being anywhere near on schedule. I had another thing come up. It takes priority but doesn’t occupy 100% of my time. And since I’m doing this to catch up with my own character thing anyway, I’m not just going to bow out. I’ll just keep going whether I hit the goal of 30 for the month or not. I do have a couple of others on the verge of being finished but I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to sit down & really work on them. But be on the look out.
a witch who grants wishes in exchange for cherished memories
Eldest daughter of one of the richest and most eccentric families in the city, Claire is a self-appointed Paranormal Researcher, determined to find scientific proof of the undead. She has no training in any kind of science, doesn’t really know what would constitute “scientific proof,” and tends to leap to conclusions at a moment’s notice, but what she does have is the massive inheritance she received after the flood.
Lord Clarion had an extreme interest in micro sciences- molecular science, microbiology, light particles, etc. As part of his research, Lord Clarion gathered dust from ancient tombs, meteors, hospitals and trash heaps to examine what was happening at the smallest of observable levels. Somewhere along the line, the dust from one of these odd locals contaminated and changed his body. Lord Clarion can spontaneously turn into Lord Contagion, a hideous creature covered in small sores that turn a luminescent blue before releasing spores that cause a variety of horrid and ghastly infections and ways to die. Lord Contagion is happy in his research, now getting to observe the random actions of the spores that come from his body and ill others.
Creature from planet LK-446.
He built his kingdom from the ground up.
(Image edited 2013-11-19. Had his left foot reversed. Oops. >_<)
Because putting your head in the sand is so, like, dark….
Independence Man is the living embodiment of the American serviceman. Descended from a long line of military ancestors dating back to the American Revolution, Morgan Kincaid’s family has always stepped forward to serve. Kincaid now operates solo, doing rescue and recovery missions.
Ursala is the house keeper at the castle. She is a workaholic and needed extra arms to keep up with all her house work. She can be cranky whenever anyone causes her extra work, but she loves taking care of people and will clean up a mess at the same time she’s complaining about it. She is so accustomed to working in the castle that she is incapable of doing anything else. She never takes vacations or gets sick and would be completely helpless if she ever left the castle (except for the daily shopping trip for fresh produce).
Warrior from heaven.
Protagonist of a game idea I’ve been cooking up. Very much a tomboy who reinvented herself after a certain incident during her high school days which caused her to transfer.
Giving the tech-based a characters a rest, mainly because this design has been floating around my head for the past couple of days.
Monarch is nothing without a good butler. Butch is one, even though his taste for slippers is a bit, lets say, strange?
Day 13 – Elly Hatori
“He wanted to make sure the sauce was the right amount! It’s not dangerous mom!”
For 7 generations, the Hatori family has made quality hand tossed pizza in New Chicago. Competing against the other Pizza families the art of making a good pie has gone from an contest to a war, with elaborate and excessive battles between stores for the annual title of Best Pizza in the City. While the other families have changed with the times, some switching to electric ovens, others to machine rolling the dough, The Hatori’s have always honored the tradition of hand tossed and wood ovens cooking.
Until their youngest came along. Elly Hatori is a complete fumble fingers when it comes to spinning dough, either though lack of agility or anxiety she just can’t spin a pie in the air. While for a time her family could cope with her inability the loss of her grandma meant she had to be ready to battle in the pizza family feuds. Her grand-uncle came up with a device to let her both fight and make pizzas despite her lack of dexterity, a giant double bladed pizza cutter axe, with built in sauce pourers and even a low flame thrower to cook pizzas on the blade.
Although she’s grown quite proficient with the device, her mother and father disapprove since it just doesn’t have the heart a true pizza should have. Fortunately, since it’s a pizza making tool, it’s allowed as a weapon in the battles and that’s where she shines, since her parents older styles are being overpowered by newer technologies and techniques.
BRIK is sort of an urban Golem, formed from the decaying tenements of the inner city. An embodiment of the hopes, dreams and fears of those who lived there.