RSSCategory: Steampunk

#3 Innocent Hatter Girl

| November 3, 2012 | 0 Comments

“Innocent” Mhmm. Little Mischief hiding beneath those big eyes of hers!

Little Red here is just your Hatter’s Assistant. Mad Hatter? No. No. No… She’s sweet and innocent! Or looks can be deceiving. Under that big hat of her’s are plenty of schemes waiting to happen! What do you think?

#3 Madame Brouillard

| November 3, 2012 | 0 Comments

Potbellied

| November 2, 2012 | 2 Comments

#2 Lonesome-Jones

| November 2, 2012 | 0 Comments

 

This is Lonesome-Jones , he doesn’t say much and not much is known about this eerie traveler, his clothing suggests that he must be from a distant past almost “western” including the mask made from a burlap sack he wears on his face. Yet, the strange thing is his left arm is replaced with an almost futuristic canon that shoots out laser beams from his arm.

 The mask he wears is sewn in such a fashion it almost looks like he wears a permanent smile, though he is no nice guy. He wonders into town robs the nearest bank, burns down the nearest library he can find (he can’t read, guess makes him a little bitter) and then disappears as quickly as he appeared.
Lonesome-Jones, a nickname given to him over the course of time by people who have seen him. Mainly due to the fact he always travels alone it seems and some people have said “if you must sew a smile into a mask to wear, you must be a lonesome fella.”

#2 Clint “Iron Knuckles” Lynch

| November 2, 2012 | 5 Comments

It’s just another day in the post-apocalyptic wasteland for Clint Lynch. After dispatching a herd of radioactive zombies with a chemical fire, he fended off a small group of cannibals with his trusty Smith & Wesson M29. Now, down to his last bullet, Clint is playing cat-and-mouse with a lobster-clawed mutant.

#1 Atomic Automaton

| November 1, 2012 | 0 Comments

 

Done in pencil via a sketchpad. Atomic Automaton’s seen better days…

Comes with the territory though.

#1 Von Goetz

| November 1, 2012 | 0 Comments

Ruthless Aerostadt Commandant of the Fatherland Imperium.

Returning Challenger 2012: Rachel Ross

| October 19, 2012 | 1 Comment

Steampunk GoodnessHi, my name is Rachel.

I played along last year, and managed to get 30 characters done – but a lot of them were “pretty terrible”.

So this year, I want to churn out 30 characters that are “less terrible”.

I’ve been practicing, but not as much as I should!

Here’s my website, where I will cross-post these characters: Glimmerville

 

Jared Lewis – 30 Characters in 30 Days 2011

| December 3, 2011 | 0 Comments

#1 Glorious Sentai Gokaider Red#2 Aurora#3 Sixth Carbon Lama#4 Longtalon#5 Phione
#6 Deadeye Huitzilo the Vaquerohttp://www.30characters.com/2011/11/14/7-esme-velez-martin-riggs/#8 The Duke of Brixton#9 The Sky Bandit Beatrix Sprawling#10 “Upstairs Bigfoot”
#11 The Uzbek#12 Xaiyoi#13 & #14 Las Hermanas de La Sombras Vigilantes (Isa)#13 & #14 Las Hermanas de La Sombras Vigilantes (Magda)#15 Skaggs
#16 Goroh#17 Munson#18 Quozark the Unflinching#19 TheBinMan.EXE#20 The Outsorceror
#21 Fe-Male#21 Fe-Male#23 Mynah#24 Caldera#25 Biata Boombata
#26 Oosailoo#27 Wee Andrew of Glenclover#28 The Dingo Demon Formerly Known as Sig#29 The Tungsten Rhino Support Crew#30 Tremendous Rowdy

Made it. Just barely. Overall, I’m happy. I had a busier schedule, but there were hours here & there where I could’ve focused & gotten better results. Ultimately, just happy to hit 30 for a second year. I will probably be posting more about the whole experience sometime soon on my sketchblog. Until then, I’ve got some projects to get back to. Thanks for the feedback & support, & great job to everyone who participated this year. Hope to see you next.

 

30 Characters in 30 Days

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

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J. James Final Characters

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

What a busy month, I don’t remember sleep.  Thanks for all your support who kept me motivated on this project, and those who volunteered to be a part of it. Take care of yourselves, and I’ll see you next November! J. James

Nathan Seabolt-My 2011 Characters Overview

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

Here are the characters I created for the 30 Characters in 30 Days Challenge 2011.

Click the images to view the posts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They’re definitely not all gems, but it was tons of fun to do this challenge. I’ll be back next year!

#31 BONUS! – Z

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

 

BONUS CHARACTER!

Z is a mysterious young woman who uses agility, a tenacious attitude and some massive firepower to combat the forces of darkness. Sort of like Kolchak the Night Stalker or Supernatural, if those shows featured a borderline insane girl who seems to have escaped from a manga into the quasi-real world.

Coming in a comic series in 2012!

 

29# HIMDUDE and the Almighty Lords of the Planets

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments

Paisley Queen

| December 1, 2011 | 2 Comments
Sexy Star Fairy of Paisley

"You should write me a love story"

 
When you look up in the night sky, and see a falling star, make a wish if you please but be aware that it may not be a star at all, it may be the Paisley Queen sailing through the evening.

“I’ve come for the wine.  What shall we sample tonight?”

Often sought by others for truth and guidance, the Paisley Queen genuinely laughs it off.

“If they’re so stupid they need direction they might as well just have some wine and get over it!”

Casual Formal Server

| December 1, 2011 | 0 Comments
Fast Sexy Bastard

Here I was and there I went...

Being the best there is at what I do is the easiest and most carefree way to be.

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m laid back and fun and formal and goofy, all at the same time.  Try that on for size.”

You never know just what story is being built or considered when you pass me, or how you might be contributing to the sequence being built.

“I may be quiet, but I’m a deep thinker.  Herpaderp.”

 

 

30 Characters in 30 Days – A Veritable Feast

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

30 Characters in 30 Days has proven to be a beast of a challenge. Especially because I am NOT AN ARTIST. I am a WRITER, so the challenge for me was to create interesting characters, biographies or stories. The art was not mine, except when it was created by me in a graphic design tool.

My art and challenge was to tell good stories or create interesting people for those stories. So some of these people will link to character bios, others will link to short stories. Was this challenging? Absolutely. Is it necessary? Even more so now after doing it, I realize new characters are in short supply as big businesses are only interested in dragging out the same old ideas again and again as long as they are profitable. And since the churning masses are quite happy with retreaded old ideas, it becomes nearly impossible for new ideas to be seen.

This makes it even more imperative for new creators, to put down their ideas, flesh them out and begin working so when the opportunity for something new to hit the screen, or become a book or find its way into a comic presents itself, you and your product are already refined, sharp, definite and ready for prime time. Contests like these can inspire you and others who see you and your work to take the risk of Creation.

Whether you succeed in this challenge or not is immaterial. What is important is that you recognized that it must be done by you. If you are going to call yourself a creative, such challenges need to be taken on, like the Labors of Hercules, to prove that you are worthy, to challenge your mettle, to sharpen your sword upon the enemies of deadlines, of production, of quality control and of ennui, lack of motivation and most of all, Fear. Actually both fears, fear of failure and fear of success, are equally able to prevent you from taking action. Challenges like this should spur your blood, and make you ready to create as if no one is watching, design as if no algorithm is taking note of your numbers.

I enjoyed this challenge and will spend the time until next November trying to turn these bits of writing into something larger and more magnificent than the seeds planted this month.

I challenge you to do the same.

You can find my writing in all of these places: http://myonepage.com/ebonstorm

Twitter: @ebonstorm
Google+: http://gplus.to/ebonstorm
A Matter of Scale: WordPress - http://ebonstorm.wordpress.com/
Mediasphere Curation: Tumblr - http://mediasphere.tumblr.com/
Tales of the Twilight Continuum: Weebly - http://ebonstorm.weebly.com/
Hidden Realms: Posterous - http://hiddenrealms.posterous.com/#!/68615711

#30 BUCCANEER JONES – MONSTER HUNTER

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

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#29 WW1 BODILESS WALKER

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

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#27 MANIAC

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

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Nina Hudoc

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

NinaNina was given the assignment to guard and escort the queen elect to a safe destination. Failing to do so, she is now given the task to retrieve her unharmed. Nina takes this mission personally. It was Miernie who inspired Nina to join the Tontin sisterhood and become a Warcaptain.  Not only will her mission force her to question her perceptions of herself, but her perception of the universe on whole. Will she survive?

Toc-Tic premieres in May of 2012.

Day 30 – Moxie

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

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Meet Moxie – a spunky, rocket-pack-wearing, gadget-loving adventure girl.

#2?: Pigamajig

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

 

Pigamajig- he’s not a pig, just a cool dude who lookas a bit like one.

Various attempt at getting him right shown. Curiously, the one bottom left is, I think, the best one.

Lives in a lighthouse, though he also has a very nice, home-made, wooden space rocket that he waxes every Sunday.

City-Slicker

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments
Urban Cowboy Superhero

Your friendly neighborhood Cowboy

City-Slicker was once the kind of man who preferred beans, sweat, dust, and the lonliness of the plains, but now he has moved to the big city to use his newfound city dweller powers for the forces of good.

“Well, shit, it’s like, there’s only so much horsetail and whiskey in the world, sometimes a guy needs some watertowers and bridges.”

Often seen riding his steed, Scarlett, through the back alleys of the dirtiest neighborhoods in the city, City-Slicker is known for his keen sense of observation and timely knack of jumping into a situation to save others.

“Whel, ah’ll be.  I seen this town, twernt nothin but a few shacks, two competing gangs, a bartender, a madam’s, and a gravedigger.  Why cain’t a guy like me come to the big city and make a name for my self?”

Day 30 – Katarina the Dragon Slayer as a child

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

Katarina at 9 years old

#30 – Rhackomanon: The Sixth Demon Prince

| November 29, 2011 | 0 Comments

Aethermancer: Saga of the Clockwork King

An Untimely Meeting

She was a vision in black, her hair braided in tiny rows, held close to her scalp and then plaited together ran down her back to her waist. She was of the clan Modru, the Sundwellers, so she was of a dark brown hue, her skin, smooth like fine ironwood, with full lips, slightly parted as she look down into her hands at a small glowing device. It whirred quietly as she waved it about from the cover of her cloak.

When she looked up, her brow furrowed, her eyes burned like coals, she was a woman with a mission. Her cloak, long and flowing covered her wide, strong shoulders, and she wore a right proper lady’s full dress, it too, in full black with only the tiniest traces of silver running down the bodice. I did not see it at first but she also bore a straight sword beneath her cloak at her hip, but it moved imperceptibly, part of her.

She turned down the brightly lit streets as the galaxy’s core had risen some hours  ago and brilliantly lit the night. There were still a few people about, but this late, most were returning to their homes to be locking their doors against the night. I would be too, if I had a home from which to return. Many of us had been displaced after the wars with the Clockwork King of Lantu and even with his defeat, our suffering was still great. Homeless, I expected to huddle through the night, nibbling this crust of bread in my lap.

As I sat swaddled in darkness, I would have passed it off as a noble lady looking for a trinket but there was something about her that seemed out of place. Then she turned toward me and I could feel the power of her stare. My mother, cursed with the darkness passed it to me; I could see it in others. Even in the complete darkness, she could see me, I could feel it. Her gaze held me in place and as she approached, but I felt no malice, so I waited.

“Good sir, if I may have a moment of your time?”

Her manners, so deferential, to me, little more than a forgotten veteran of a dozen wars, I loved her in that second. “Yes, miss, how can I help you this evening?

“Have you seen anything passing strange or untoward this evening, near this corner? Anything that would make you wary or fearful? I know it seems a unusual question, but I ask your forbearance while you think.”

“I had seen something amiss but for the life of me I cannot seem to remember it. It was…” As I struggled to remember, I struggled for breath. My chest felt as if it were in a vice, the very air wrest from my lungs.

The lady looked into her hand again as the air above the tiny device began to glow strongly as she proffered it in my direction. Its clockwork parts clicked wildly. “Touch it. Now.” Her tone brooked no refusal and as I could not draw breath I was hardly in a state to refuse. Once I touched it, I could see a shape on my chest akin to a snake wrapped around me squeezing me tight. She took the strange device and pressed it to my chest and I could feel her will around me, solidifying and then the pressure was gone. As she withdrew the device I could see a silver thread pulled into it and fade after a few moments.

“What I seek is here, tell me quickly old veteran and then get as far away as your legs will carry you.”

Now that the creature was gone, the horror returned to me of the unspeakable things I had seen. I scrambled backward until I struck the wall and cowered, senseless for a few seconds. Then my words returned. “It was a Dsur daemon covered in brass armor, floating with three of its windkin slaves. It was fiery red and lightning flashed between its fingertips.” As my heart calmed, I remembered more. “I thought I was, at first, too deep in my cups. The creature rode a soldier who had come into town, sick with what I thought was Theron’s pox. I had it as a child, so I had no fear of him. I tried to convince him to share with an old hand, but he was lost in his visions. He asked which way to a chirurgeon and I pointed him down Lacksmir Way. He passed me a penny and as I thanked him, I saw it, I saw the Dsur and it saw me. The penny was infected with the creature and I could see it take me but could not resist.

“Where is Lacksmir Way?” Her voice had softened and she put the strange device away in her cloak and she reached toward a small pouch at her hip. I pointed wordlessly and she gave me a small collection of oddly shaped coins. They were Modruan silver bits, to me, a small fortune. “Now run as fast as you can from this place and head to the inn near the center of town. Rashaban’s Place. Tell him the Lady Ishtar sent you as my guest. He will provide anything you need. Now hurry. You have been of great service.”

I wanted to flee and not look back but as I stood to thank her, I felt the sudden chill, out of place on this warm summer night. The same breeze I felt earlier when the soldier passed. But this time, I saw the chirurgeon, an older man whose name escaped me because I had always been lucky enough to never go to him, but I knew his face and this was not him. Then the darkness parted and I could see the daemon’s essence again, hovering over the body of the chirurgeon, my bowels turned to water.

“It’s here.” I scramble away and she turns, draws her blade and deflects three kunai thrown at her from the three mistwraiths floating over the shoulders of the chirurgeon.

“Aethermancer. So nice to see you again. I knew I could count on your timely arrival. After our last interaction, I needed a new host, no thanks to you. This time, I am fresh and you’re exhausted. It will end differently, I assure you. Destroy her.” He points and the mistwraiths swarm out with spirit kunai knives whirring through the air, each whistling a tiny song of death.

She stands her ground and her sword is a flashing blur, knocking away the kunai, their intent blunted, they vanish like smoke. “Run sir, there is naught here for you now but dying, you are not safe from either of us. Make haste and never look back!”

I ran down the street, as fast as my wizen feet could carry me, scrambling on my hands and knees as the terror came from the Mistwraiths in waves, mixed within their smoke that comprised their bodies, they were covering the entire area in a cold fog of icy ennui. A tendril touched my leg and I fell over, tumbling limply in the street until I stopped moving. I felt nothing. No fear, no terror, no concern for my life.

My life had become crushingly filled with despair and there was no release save death. I slowly sat up, hearing the sound of battle two dozen steps away and the deadly play of her sword work, but try as she might, she could get no advantage on the mistwraiths, nor could they press their numerical superiority, her sword seemed to be everywhere. I pressed my rags for a knife, and found the scrap of a blade that I carried for self defense, something broken found on a battlefield long ago. I found my wrists and sat down. My first cut was pain-free and soothing, the crush of life began to fade from me. And I watched her, drawn to the beauty of her dance.

She moves to gain more mobility and whirls her cloak through the air, blinding a Wraith. Pulling her blade back to her, extending her arm behind her and blade in front, she whispers the word, “Shikai.” The mist in the area explodes away from her and one of the wraiths who was to close is disrupted along with the rest of their glamour. The wraith who was covered by the cloak in those seconds, phases free, only to meet her glittering blade now covered in shimmer field of blue energy. The wraith blocks with his spirit kunai, but they stop nothing. He is no more. Her body is covered in the same blue aura, but her breath is ragged now and she stands still as the last Wraith retreats to the chirurgeon.

“You weak pathetic fools. I will destroy her myself. But you will feed me first.”

“No, Master, anything but that.” A terrible vortex appears over the mouth of the chirurgeon and the mistwraith is drawn toward it, unable to escape. It’s terrible wail as it is being consumed echoes down the street.

“Now Aethermancer Ishtar, destroyer of cities, breaker of gates, and slayer of the Clockwork King, his vengeance is now upon you. I was summoned from my castle of Brass, enslaved to his will and even his death did not free me. It would seem only yours will suffice. Have you made your peace?”

“One of us will die this day Daemon, but it shall not be me. You still have five kin left on in the Realm. I will not leave this work undone, no matter what the cost.”

“We shall see. Defend yourself.” He moved, impossibly fast, first he was standing ten steps away, and then he was one, his hand swung through the air, a blade formed of his dark aether, but when he expected contact there was none.

“We both know Shumpo, the quickstep. You will have to do better.” She smiled. For just a moment she seemed her old self, fast, beautiful, dangerous, but their battle had simply moved to a different level, they were still too evenly matched. As my life bled out, I knew I might die, before the battle was determined. Each strike of her weapon or his aether, rang out, creating waves of force that wore on the very ground and buildings around them. At one point, a group of constables appeared, and the force of the battle knocked them back down the street. They fled.

I could hear her breath now, fast, hard, rough. She is slowing down, but so is he, his skin tightening upon his face, becoming grey and lifeless. His muscles disappearing every time he tries to increase his speed. The two are now moving at speeds that resemble human combat again. Still fast, but no longer the ghostlike blurs of a few seconds ago.

“Rhackomanon, no more talk? It’s not like you to be silent. Not feeling as confident as you were?”

“No sorcereress, I am simply savoring your last moments. Your sword is heavy, isn’t it. Your legs like lead. Shunpo deserts you now. You are just flesh, your chi expended, what can you possible do against the likes of me!” The body of the chirurgeon falls to its knees and opens its mouth. the Daemon Rhackomanon pours forth, a ghost with flesh, crimson with fanged tusks, bright brass armor covered with noxious runes, they hurt my eyes to see. He towers over her, covered in flames. “Time to die, Witch.”

She looks at me. I feel her sadness. I feel the pain at what she is about to do. I forgive her as I feel my spirit drawn to her.

“Bankai.” Her whisper belied the power of the word. The world grew silent.

Suddenly I see her as I could never in life. She is not diminished, she is like a star, suddenly brighter than I could have imagined as I rush into her and surround her with the eight others I see standing with her. My energy invigorates her, and she slashes with abandon. Rhackomanon parries but it is of no use, her sword now tears into him, breaking his brass shield, his brass armor, he claws but she is never there. She is like a surgeon striking again and again, each blow steals more of his aether.

She uses the quickstep and appears near my body, staring at the blood all around it. Rhackomanon sees her looking at me and rushes as his fires surge blue-white he appears and her sword is through his chest, slashing, with abandon, until she strikes the heart of the daemon. Then she grabs his mighty form, and says to him, “See this man. He was your undoing. When you return to your hell for a thousand years, weak and prey for others of your kind, I want you to remember his face. Not mine. His is the sacrifice that binds your spirit. To Hell with you.”

She releases him and makes a series of gestures. A shimmering field with dark tendrils reaches out and Rhackomanon is still conscious as his diminished form is drawn back into the void. His screams chill the blood of any who hear it and will cause those to have nightmares to last a lifetime. His promises of power fall on deaf ears.

Her sword, with the aether it has absorbed, glows and beats with a sinister life. She whips it around into its ornate scabbard. Covered with runes, darkly sinister, etched in malice and blood on the sheath quell and bind the daemonic power for use another day.

She turns to me, and she can see me. The other eight spirits disappear, leaving the two of us alone. “I am sorry this happened to you.”

“What does this mean, I thought I was dead?”

“You are, but you are bound to me and my quest. As long as I live, or your spirit persists, you will lend your power to me.”

“I don’t have any powers.”

“I know, but the human soul is a power in and of itself. Do you suppose daemons would not bargain so hard for them unless they had a power we do not appreciate?”

“Will I ever be released?”

She walks over to her cape and with the tiniest application of her power, her cape and clothing resume their previously pleasing forms. With the last of her dwindling power, she destroys my body, leaving not a trace of me in the world. At first I resented it. Then I realized, I wasn’t doing anything with my life until she came along. Perhaps dead, I might make more difference than I did in life.

She looked at her compass and turned west. We walked into the setting light of the galactic core.

Aethermancer © Thaddeus Howze 2011. All Rights Reserved

First Appearance: The Aethermancer Ishtar and the demon prince Rhackomanon have a history that goes back several years. However, when we first meet him in the novel Aethermancer, he is getting his ass handed to him and starts the story being the second casualty of our heroine. Once we start going backward in time, we will see their struggle was much more complex than it appears in this scene.

About the Artist: Another *Rhado masterpiece, there are no words for this piece other than bodacious, covered in awesome-sauce. The piece, called Zarah Neman, was another of his commissioned works made in a variety of media. I chose it for the demonic being called Rhackomanon because of the six of his demonic brothers, he is still the most likely to appear human even outside of a host being. He gets his ass handed to him because he is arrogant.

Esther

| November 29, 2011 | 0 Comments

OrchidIn the world out side the clock work, Bats live a free and open existence. However, within the great clock they live in hiding. This is due to the belief of the clock citizens that the bones of bats are holy, and angelic. Many wooden cross gears still feature their bones.

#28 Vaden

| November 29, 2011 | 0 Comments

Days # 25, 26, 27

| November 28, 2011 | 0 Comments

 

Thomas is officially a former soldier who frequents Madame Striker’s. Despite his missing arm he never actually left the army he now works in the intelligence department gathering secrets during his daily visits.

T’lawn Vrect is a bounty hunter. She likes killing people and figures if she’s good at it she might as well get payed. Don’t let her appearance fool you the white leather belt she wears is extremely expensive tourh hide. She’s rude, cocky and happy with her life. She’s got her own crack team to help her take heads and she’s got a reputation that spread to half the northern hemisphere, she’s even appeared on the odd talk show. She’s a crack shot, and a proficient brawler but she needs to bring a gun to the knife fight or she’ll end up with a gut full of steel.

Rache is Vrect’s go-to for any data gathering and tech. He’s pretty calm and a complete opposite to Vrect’s more crude personality, though he isn’t any less obnoxious. He’s a bit of a tech snob always up to date with implants, computers and security systems. He rarely leaves home base being much more effective as a desk monkey that a onsite hunters assistant. That and the one time he tried Vrect nearly lopped off his head… intentionally.

Thee Damned Irishman

| November 28, 2011 | 0 Comments
Trainer of Legendary Irishmen

Not worth death at my hands.

Travis O’expo can take the heat, he keeps his ass in New York’s Hells Kitchen.  With the waves of Irish immigrants pounding the shores of the decent folk of the city, it’s difficult for some to make a name for themselves, but not for this bastard.

“What part of that excrement did I come from?  I been told Kelly, but I lost proof of it in my language in the asylum.”

Not one to take any crap of anyone, O’expo likes to remind people where the line exists between humor and reality.

“I don’t find that funny.  Down with the Union, I will put a shank between your ribs if you don’t find that legendary.”

Elizabeth d’ Fiero

| November 28, 2011 | 0 Comments
Politically Inclined Victorian Belle

Belle-wether of the Ball

Elizabeth d’ Fiero has been the celebrity darling since her appearance with the Duke of L’angiers at the Royal Wedding.  She is sought after for her keen observations of the elite.

“You see, darling, all that needs to happen for the people of the realm to allow atrocities to occur right before their noses is to turn it into a show!  A wonderful, beautiful comedy of errs will make the bad medicine of reduced concern for honest policy go down like a warm drink.”

Blending her usage of shaming terminology with unpopular terms for other demographics, the Countess is open in her opinions of the way which power really affects the course of history.

“It’s all true, of course.  The bread and circus meant to keep the little people busy.  The folksy backwater types who prattle on about conspiracies not being ‘real’ enough, simply do not have any grasp on the depths of apathy which people like, well, like me, darling, have for the people like them.”