New logo

I have wedged more time for my work between school and my part-time jobs. I am in the process of creating a form of branding for myself so I can stamp my work with more ease. I was flipping through a sketchbook I had laying around and found a bizarre bird-like thing scribbled down. Those who know me know I love birds, so I decided to work it out into something.

I wanted to make something clear and readable while keeping it funky and psychedelic. I took some vellum paper and freehand a new logo based on the sketch. 

I was going to ink the art but decided to keep the pieces work and darken it up in photoshop.

I like to see the  flaws and imperfections in people’s natural handwork. It shows confidence and openness in who that person is as an artist.  I took the outline and made a bunch of variations to use whenever I see fit.

I like the red one the most.



What’s up dudes, Happy new year and all that jazz.


I was originally not prepared to post anything today but being that it is 23:49 at the time of writing and me not posting anything for a month or so I decided that now would be better than later.  Schools out for me until the 8th and I go back to work part-time on the 2nd so I have some time to do more personal work. That mostly involves posting sketches I have done.

I’m still working on MARUN and for the most part, things are going well. I am in the prosses of ironing out the lore and design of the game world(s) I have around thirty-six player species planned for the first release.  I have sketches of the progenitors of the first eighteen species of Glassoids. Lore wise they are the first of each of the respective subspecies of Glassoids to achieve true immortality and rule over there respective tribes and guides the Glassoids overall in the conflict and struggles of the ages, when they are not fighting each other that is.

Man, Writing RPGs is hard work, to be honest.  I have not even had time to work on the novel.  I’m going to start a Youtube channel to do dev blogs and play demos.  I want to finish my first gamebook and story this year and put it up for sale. The hard part is going to be promoting it.  I don’t know if I am going to get any money for this, but if get a name for it that is just as good in my opinion.  Only time will tell. I need to sleep so laters!



In all honesty “sleep” is code for stay up until sunrise and write. I need to be more healthy about this stuff. I’m going to drink me a Jarrito and go to bed. Happy new year.

Inktober 2017 day 18

Writing again.  I hope to have time to edit a longer, more coherent story after this term is over for me. I have IT 101 next, so that should be a relative snap for me. I just have to install 15 programs for this class first.

I hope to have time to edit a longer, more coherent story after this term is over for me. I am mapping out about 6 more chapters for beginning and going to expand on the ones I have done.

I have IT 101 next, so that should be a relative snap for me. I should have a lot of extra writing time. I just have to install 15 programs for this class first.

Anyway, here ya go.

Barrel frantically dove in and out of cover as the once dim lit tunnels became a bright wash of weapons fire. He could see the faces of their attackers. They were bug-eyed and armed with long mandibles. Their faces looked as if they were merely curious, almost childlike but as one jumped onto Barrel and gashed at him it became apparent their true intentions.

It cried out at him in its strange gargling tongue “You come, you come now! We need to meet with you.”  Diana, who had unloaded a hefty amount of munitions down the hallway at the main cluster noticed the creature on top of Barrel. Smoke and dust had begun to fill up the tunnels. They would not be able to see much if this continued. 

She signaled to Specialist Juan and the group of men he was with to free Barrel. As they moved to him, however, they were set upon a host of creates, failing to stop the ones now swarming over Barrel. They slaughtered the ones that had set down upon them easily, but only specialist Juan was able to move close to Barrel. As he reached out to him his hand was bitten by one of the creatures. Grabbing it from the inside of its mouth he began to pummel it to an orange pulp before returning his attention to Barrel. He gasped as he saw barrel being drug down a long twisting corridor, clawing at the ground.

Alerting his sergeant to the situation, the sergeant asked Diana “Can you chase after him? They can’t do us much harm, but Barrel is already injured and they seem to be way to interested in him!” he said, gunning what soon became apparent to be the last of the creatures down.

It was surreal. As soon as they came, they vanished. They took their dead and wounded with them as well. The only losses sustained by the Glassoids, was an automaton that was too ramshackle to be fit for service in the first place. Diana pinged Barrels data pad. She had his trail. “Rally at this location. I will go retrieve Barrel. We are going to need him if we are going to open that last hatch. I doubt they are going to harm him. Just to be safe however, I’m going to go break up whatever little meeting they are having with him.” She had heard what the creature had said to him. She was curious on just what was so special about him. On top of that, she was annoyed. Her paint job had been ruined by the assorted gore of the creatures. It was Barrel’s fault in her mind. Getting him back would be a great opportunity to gripe him out for being captured.  


            As Barrel kicked and screamed he remberd the words that his escorts had muttered about him. He thought about what he had done in this life to deserve such a fate. First it was the birds, now these overgrown bead bugs wanted him. It was all his flat he thought. If he had just remained quiet about the service tunnels, well, he could not guarantee that the birds would not have gotten to him but he most certainly would not have been in this mess right now.

“Sorry for the roughness, your friends where shooting at us after all.” One of his captures said. “We should have asked if we could have taken you. Too late now.” said another. Barrel was unsure what was happening. They were trying to be polite abductors. He appreciated that, but hated how he still did not know what was going on.

“May I ask, where are you taking me?” he inquired. He started relaxed, somehow instinctively knowing that they were nonthreatening towards him now that they had him. One of the creatures rattled “we are here, at the lair of our mind.” One of the creatures spoke. Barrel had to think for a moment before responding. “Lair of your mind? I’m not quite following you buddy.”

 As the creature set him down a loud voice rang out in his head. It was like the birds, but more regal and soft.  “I know you have some words. Questions. I can feel that, but first welcome to our home.” Barrel looked up and almost shouted. She was a large arthropod of sorts, millipedal and chitinous. Her many eyes circled his smoothed and stream lined head and its wide shape gave it an almost motherly appearance. It stood up in a way to make it look like it was a diplomat meeting an envoy. She blinked her eyes in a flutter, and made herself conferrable with an odd wiggle. Barrel stood to his feet and the creature straightened her vertebrae to address him.

“Barrel, Glassoid. I have no name nor title. I am served only by my drones who preserve me. The tunnels have been hollowed out and made wider for my habitation by me.  I am what you call a cryptid. Proud am I to have you as my gest.” She said. Barrel was defiantly confused. He would be asking for a whole year off vacation after this.

 Grabbing on to his belt he asked “Not to be rude ma’am, but what is all this about? I have seen and been around weird aliens, and foreign critters all my life. Why are you things taking an interest in me now of all times?” he said. Her drones looked at each other, pondering the same question.

 She began “To be honest, it’s just greed. I know the bird wants you, so now I want you too.” She said, crossing two of her large feelers like one would clasp their hands.

Barrel shouted, “So you want to eat me too?!?”  

Making what one could consider a chuckle she responded “No, no, no, no, Glassoid. I have all the substance I would ever need down here. Granted, if I did not, well, let’s just say that that idea would not be off the table. We creatures are extremely competitive with each other, that’s all. I cannot have the bird find hold of something that would benefit him like you would. Plus, he has been hunting my precious drones for some time now. I do this now, out of spite.”

“So, what’s up with this then? Why does the bird want me? What’s so special about me? And why am I down here with you?” Barrel responded, demanding an answer.

Moving uncomfortably close to him the creature began to tell him. “All Glassoids have gifts, dear Barrel. Your gift more so. We Xeno-spawn are not like the other fauna that are in the great expanses. We have grown and spread to be just as well traveled as your kin, and thrice times as numerus. We have grown and evolved alongside each other since the great birthing of our universe, and have come to see you for what you are. Barrel, you have a communion with us. You just don’t know it yet.” She said, watching Barrels now amazed eyes.

Barrel replied. “I have never known any Glassoid, or any other thing besides that to be able to “commune” with anything like you!” he began. “I know guys that can shoot fireballs out their eyes, or darn near fly, or eat bullets mid-air or even file their taxes by themselves. The only “gift” I ever posseted was being able to take my toaster apart and have half the whist to put it back together. You mean to tell me there is more to me that I even know?” he said with an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips. She responded “well yes, that’s about it. Think of it like being a late bloomer.”

“A late bloomer? Really?” Barrel responded, crossing his arms.

“Well, we can’t all have it early.” She flatly replied.

Barrel shook his head “okay, so how does this “Gift” work? You got a manual?” Picking up a rock and playing with it with her feelers she responded “You are using it now. Most Glassoids can communicate using this method we are employing now, but yours his hinted. You can commune with us on a more personal level than others. Basically, it’s like being one of us, in a way.”

Barrel nodded his head. He began to think about all the times he had ran in to these creatures before. They always seemed to move out of his way, or help him find things, or even just be downright friendly to him. Apart from the bird, he has always felt like they were his friends to some extent. Before he could ask her his next question both he and the creature snapped to look down one of the long dark hallways leading to the chamber. The felt him coming.


Breaking through the layers of concrete and earth, the bird arrived at the bottom of the tunnels. His master pet him as he dismounted. He could feel the multitudes of swarming life forms commixing to fend them off. He and his pet would make short work of all of them. He just had to get past there quean and take the Glassoid as his price. His peat grew hungrier and hungrier by the moment. He would have to hurry. He was growing hungry as well...


Inktober 2017 day 15

No more prompts, I’m doing my own thing now.

Continuing my drafts. I going to start revising this stuff this week. Going to do some real drawings to go with it as well.

Broken pipes dripped in almost perfect sequence in the now shambled halls of the bunker. They were the first noises that greeted Barrel as he regained senses. He could smell the water, and the smoke and something akin to bacon and beans. He tried to roll his head but was greeted with a sharp pain. Reaching to touch his face he could feel a fracture sliding down his visage. Each time his core beat, so too did the pain in his head. His legs responded, but one also had a large crack on its side. He remembered the crash but did not remember what happened after he skidded across the room.

 Opening his eyes, he was a bit shocked to see others. Glassoids, Glazier constructs, a few beaten down automatons, and Diana. “You are awake, finally. Well, repairman you are going to have a lot of work orders after we clear out this infestation.” She said, materializing a holographic datasheet of medical information on him and handing it to him. His vision was blurry but he could see the reports. From what he read, his hover trike was in better shape than he was.  He had tons of questions, but the first he could form was “In…fe…station? How long… was I… out of… it?” Diana responded rather promptly and with a bit of casualness “Thirteen hours, the field surgeons patched you up the best they could.”

As she spoke, a medic in a white and red trimmed uniform hoped up from their rest to attend to him. They were a pawn, one of the many variants of Glassoids that existed. They were known for their round and shapely forms, like board game pieces with pleasing curves. Barrel admired his caretaker's shape as they walked towards him. He was going to ask for her name till he was greeted by a deep and baritone voice of a male. He was partially disappointed but paid attention to the reading of his medical reports specialist Juan was presenting. “Well, your core did not rupture. The Glaziers stationed here said you crashed in here at well over three hundred paces. They dragged you in here right before the swarm hit” He said.  

“Swarm?” Barrel said confused. The specialist nodded and said “You should consider yourself lucky, or unlucky by some standards. You have a special core type. Makes you more attractive to cryptids that can detect our particle signature.” Barrel processed that information slowly. “You mean, like the bird?” he said. Before the specialist could respond Barrel continued. “I’m just a repairman. I had a B+ average all through school. I have never done anything special or extraordinary in all my three hundred and sixty-four years of living. Out of the blue, you are going to tell me that I am somehow now magical bird food that everyone wants to eat?” the specialist, rummaging through a tote bag casually replied. “Yes, that about it. Don’t feel so bad about it, it’s quite a common occurrence. About 1 in six for us Glassoids to be exact.” Barrel knew from the casual tone of the trooper that he was not going to get much sympathy. Barrel stood up and limped to the cooking beans and bacon. A Glazier roller was turning over a portion of preserved meat. He wanted some, even though neither Glassoid nor Glazier needed sustenance. It was the comfort in having meals that mattered.

After eating, Diana had begun to explain what had been going on outside while he was asleep. “The crows have come back, and the bird is out but we don’t know where it’s at exactly. We have flyers out looking for it. As for you, well, you are technically a civilian caught up out here. We need to get you to safety but they birds aren't letting us.” She said, sitting by him as the medic did one last scan on him. Barrel knew he was in it now. the crows wanted him, and they were all pinned down because of it. He started to think it would have been better if he had let the bird eat him in the first place. He felt motivated to do something, to provide a solution. He was a repairman, and thus elected to repair the satiation they were in.  He pondered what to do for a second, then in a eureka moment, he blurted out. “Glassoids build service tunnels for all of their facility’s, Diana, can’t we just evacuate through one of those?” He asked.

Diana pulled up several maps and schematics of the structure along with several charts for the region. “Well, we could do that. Noey and his team have lined up with the reinforcements and are moving to fight off the latest flock that has moved in. I doubt the birds could make their ways into the tunnels without us finding out. And our orders are to get you to safety.” She said. Barrel nodded his head and stood up, staggering at first but then marching to his toolkit that had been so kindly placed at the far end of the room. Grabbing his bags, he awaited Diana to get the confirmation order to move. “All green Murder Queen, you may escort the V.I.P. to extraction point YR4.”

Barrel was caught off guard at Diana’s callsign. “Murder queen? You? I thought you were a communications ancilla.” Diana, who had immediately started to instruct the troops there to prepare for departure paused to say. “I’m a multi-role unit, now, get ready. We need you to open the access hatch.”


The tunnels were dark, only the dim blue emergency lights provided any sort of illumination. Barrel felt a bit of pride in himself now, he had been the only one capable of bypassing the security on the access tunnel’s entry hatch and get them in there. They would have already left if they had the power to do it without him. Blast marks and scaring could be seen on the door, evidence of there failed attempts to open it by brute force. Glassoid doors were tough. Nothing shorter of an artillery bombardment would get one open, without the access keys. Barrel crept down the tunnels in the middle of the pack. There were three squads of Glassoids, two packs of Glaziers and a clutch of automatons escorting him, along with murder queen, who was in a surrogate suit of armor now.

Diana had been assigned to be their heavy weapons escort by command. Jordy, an A.I. aboard the support frigate “Silver Cloud” had taken over Logistical data and communications for the incursion here.  Barrel could hear the men talking about him, and was alarmed greatly. Things like “This guy is marked.” And “How screwed can you get?” were whispered between the men as the pointed their assorted arsenal down the dark tunnels. Barrel still had he long weapon that Noey had given him. One of the troops passing by had told him “Oh nice find, you have a shatter ray! Feel bad for whatever you shoot with that. Keep it with you, but don’t fire it till you must. Let us do all the shooting, okay?” he did not have the hart to tell the privet that he did not even know which end to hold it.

The smell of fresh water started to fill the tunnels. Barrel pulled out his now cracked datapad. It showed that there was an underground aquifer that had been under the barracks this whole time. They could move through it and then to a larger cavern that leads to YR4. The extraction zone was a flat, shrub free zone far enough away to provide an able pick up point. Barrel watched Diana sweep the dark. Her regular holo-projection was slender and petite. In that surrogate suit, she looked like just another automaton, or drone. Murder queen had been recently spraypainted on the side with a stencil and had a crown and scepters as an emblem. It was a good 4 meters tall and was about 5 tons, with armament. She was considered a light unit and in the wide, open service tunnels provided the biggest source of light and security to everyone down there.  

 Diana had almost shined her headlights oontoone of their silent stalkers. The had been observing for a while now. They have come down far, farther than anything has in a long time. They would be in the lair soon, and then it would begin.  Its mustard yellow teeth flashed a silent and anticipating growl.  Barrel could feel his hairs stand on end. A Glassoid armed with a life detector scanned the hallways. They were teeming with life. Barrel viciously taped at his data pad. It brought up past records about its usage. It had been allowed to be an artificial reserve for cave drillers and cryptids years ago. As one of the troops stepped on a mound of organic waste, the group collectively relisted what mess they all had stepped in. Dianna fired the shots…


Inktober 2017 day 14

Not doing much tonight. just heading over to my best bro’s pop’s B-day party.

I’m about to run a test game of  MARUN universe.  The test game setting is going to be about a group of military commanders going to apprehend a misunderstood but dangerous criminal who has a vendetta against a mysteries star diva who wants to do them all in. Should be lots of fun. The setting is going to be on a swampy world filled with friendly and eccentric creaturs under the protection of the military.  I have some doodles of the main cast of characters. 

And here is the criminal. She is basically my character for this game. I’m going to flesh her concept out more at some point and use her as a canon character later on. The guys above are going to be canon too, at some point. 

At any rate, I will have more on this later. The inktober stories will resume Sunday. I’m using some of my weekend time to revise the first drafts of the story chapters and new things. Would be nice to receive some feedback after this is all done. Till next time!

Inktober 2017 Day 12

Todays Prompt was “Shattered”

Continuing my short story drafts. I think I know how to string it all together for my second draft. I’m going to expand a lot on all of this when I get finished with it at the end of the month.


Reh’cher pulled back the curtain that divided the long obsidian hallway of his keep with the open-air deck of his studio. He had much to do this day, the samples he had were still fresh but degeneration would soon set in if he did not start the preservation prosses. He was surprised to see his pet waiting for his entrance. The great bird stood hunched over, his feathers gone but slowly returning. He had wounds that would not heal, and an orange pus oozed out from him. Reh’cher waltzed over to his creation, concerned but not distort about his condition.

“You fly further and further away from me each time you go feed, Screacher. I worry about you, the outside world does not understand your kind like I. They will try to do you harm.” He said as he began to apply a strange pulsating salve over his wounds. Screacher, the bird, began to crow “I found a morsel, a Glassoid of the wheel variant. He was ripe and pure. Un-festered by the ways of his kin.”

“So, you found a weakling, not uncommon around here. The Glassoids in this region are not of the stronger ilk. They are simpler minds, nothing more. They have not been raised by their progenitors like of old.” Reh’cher replied, circling the bird to find more wounds.

“I have melded with him, we know our thoughts” The bird began to pant.

 “I would take it that he was a most plump one, was he?”  Reh’cher replied, petting his now frantic pet. Screacher began to flap his wings, growing back feathers and flash with each flap. “His core is ripe with substance! Untapped and pure! I must feed.”

Reh’cher ran his long, raggedy hands along his beak. “You are obsessing over just one Glassoid, the valley and hill lands are filled with them. Why not feed on those?  Reh’cher said, unsure of his pet’s motivation to pursue this Glassoid. “Because I see. Because I see! He ripe. Not too old, not too powerful. Just the right age for consumption.”

“I see, so he is a true treat. I would very much like to meet him. Could you bring him to me?” Reh’cher asked his pet, now washing him down with a long-handled mop and water. The bird, now pecking around gaggled. “I cannot.”

“Why? Why can’t you?” Reh’cher said, staring his pet in the eyes. He still did not understand how Reh’cher thought or functioned fully yet. The bird was just a hatchling three months ago and had grown larger and larger with each feeding. His appetite had evolved from milk to flesh, to now raw, living power. Screacher snapped at the air as he replied, “Because I would eat him, and have him mine.” He said.

Reh’cher walked over to his workbench, put on some long-coated robes, grab his tote bag and gazed at himself in the mirror. His features were cracked,  glassy and voidfull. He was not of the Glassoid or any of their spawn but was instead a Hyaloid. His people were most like the humanoids who migrated from the far north. They were outcast, betrayers. Practitioners of the obscene and the unthinkable towards both organic and inorganic life forms alike. They were the reason that the whole of Marun had been shattered, why the great war between the vector erupted, and why fire and bile spill out from the great smile scar that racks half the universe. He had been just a chemist once but after the vector had given them the great gift of master over matter, he became a god. Just like the Glassoids.

Envy had been the primary motivator for his people but Reh’cher was different. His motivations were purely that of the curious deity trying to find the full extent of his powers and gifts. His untapped potential only belied what he had already accomplished. Like his bird, he too hungered. He wanted to know more about how his creations faired, how his chimera evolved. How to both strengthen and tame their awesome might.  As he saddled his bird, he began to take a mental note on what to do when they finally captured the Glassoid. If his pet wanted him so badly, he would have him. Just after he finished his extermination, that is…

Inktober 2017 day 11

Today’s prompt was “run”. I’m basically not even properly doing

I’m basically not even properly doing inktober anymore, I’m just posting rough drafts for a story now. I’m going to get all of the thees drafts together and make it a fully fleshed out short story around November time. Its funny, inktober is about building a stronger drawing habit and instead I repurposed it to build a strong writing habit.

I do need to actually start drawing more, these little doodles don’t count in my opinion. Oh, well.

              Barrel’s hover trike had been hardly driven for all the years he owned it. Not once ever in all that time did he ever venture to go over a hundred kilometers per hour. Now as his speedometer reached a staggering three hundred and forty he struggled to keep control of the raw power of his vehicle.  Just barely avoiding a grove of cacti and collisions with various articles of scrap and debris, Barrel’s focus began to falter. He felt like nonexistent veins were pumping a black woozy venom into his mind. He wondered if it was one of the creature’s methods of hunting and why it had not used it at the radio station. He began to perceive how it was enjoying itself. The throbbing in his mind informed him of the glee the creature was feeling. If this is what the warriors of his people had to face on the regular then he was happy not to be a part of any of it.

            “Glassoid, slowdown. I don’t want you to waste any of your energies by running. I am growing tired myself. I need to refuel.” The creature projected into his mind. Barrel had to do something, and fast. He could not believe that the creature had been able to follow him at this speed. Like an old warplane, the bird flew faster and faster till it finally was a few hundred kilometers behind him. Barrel almost thought it to be a trick of the mind, but when the bird began to throw its molting feathers at him like circus knives he soon started to believe. Receiving communications from Diana about the location of the rollers, and the location of a fortification he could take refuge in. An old bunker, designed to fight off bandits and other cryptids like the bird had been discovered. She had remotely booted its defenses up and had already alerted its garrison on reserve about the bird. There was only five Rollers station there but they were armed, and cranky from being awoken from hibernation. The only bad thing out that was that he was going to have to slow down.

            “Barrel, be advised. Speed limits in this region are a hundred twenty kilometers per hour. You have already passed three speed-traps, approaching your fourth. The fines you have racked up are around eleven hundred” Diana said. Her tone being totally serious despite the saturation. “Wha? What? This is an emergency! Why does the speed limit even mater?” Barrel said, dodging some sleeping creature that was laying in the middle of the road.

           “first responders and emergency personnel are the only ones authorized to exceed speed limits in a crises situation. These limitations are for your safety.” Diana responded textbook cold. A feather whizzed by Barrels right side, hitting his head light and taking his right-side mirror with it. “You are now at thirteen hundred in finds.”

            Barrel slowed, not to avoid his finds, but to make a hard-left turn. He was coming to the bunker. If he was in a wheeled vehicle, he not only would he have been shaken apart by the bumpiness of the terrain, he would have been captured a long time ago. The strengths of the hover trike shined as he maneuvered over jagged hills and rocks effortlessly. Sand and small rocks kicked and swirled all around him, forming a twisting screen obscuring him. The bird threw his feathers at him aimlessly, hitting only shrubbery and the ground. As he could see the front gate of the bunker slide open, he gunned it. Using his eagerness to move in a straight line to the opening, the bird launched one well-placed father at Barrels hover trike. The feather struck the worst possible thing on the bike next to Barrel himself: the hover breaks. Veering out of control, Barrel jumped off from the bike as it crashed inside the bunkers interior holding space at three hundred kilometers per hour.  

            Despite being a glassoid, Barrel had very little control over his transforming ability’s and slammed into the ground in his most vulnerable base form. Ricocheting off the ground, he instantly fell unconscious as his hover trike exploded on impact. The bird tried to storm the bunker but was surprised when a barrage of weapons fire batted him back from the gate. They wounded him before he could muster the strength to do any real damage.  He would have to retreat and waste more of his precious energy regenerating. He grew hungrier with each passing second. He would have to find an alternative meal for now. There were other lifeforms in this area he could devour…

Inktober 2017 day 8

To days prompt was “crooked”

I wanted to just do a sketch of a com-tower, but I think I will do a little bit more than that. I’m going to be working on this one all week, then compile it as a completed short story.  A thousand words in an hour. I would say I’m improving bit by bit…

Dust formed a cloud around Barrel as he powered his hover trike up the hill. Drab, thorny shrubbery decorated the countryside, offering its dented browns and greens as contrast to the badlands pail hues of orange. The air was hot and dry but there were shade and streams of water to provide relief. The despot carcasses of old vehicles accompanied ruined sheds and camp structures. This area had not had any visitors for around six months now. Robotic automatons and glassier constructs were the only ones maintaining any sort of order here now.

As Barrel made his way to the checkpoint leading up to the com-tower he stopped to investigate one of the more well-kept security stations.  Three roller rovers were on guard performing their normal rounds. They were the standard units, all the same, lightweight construction, and coloration. They were a splash of light transparent blue with blotches of a deeper ocean color. Barrel thought they were a mismatch for the warm shaded desert environment, but with the right optical camouflage, anything style of glass was practical. Plus, there was nothing to hide from out here, or so he thought.

Their round heads swiveled on their spherical, rolling bodies as the corporal of the three moved met him at the gate. His auto-burst rifle had been modified down to have a shorter snub-nosed appearance, a favorite feature among the rollers. Barrel hoped off his trike, his tools and equipment rattling with the action. He had a tool for every type job, even if he was not trained to do it. As the tinker for this region, he had the boring, but well-paying job of inspecting all the non-glassier constructed equipment in this and the next two regions. The rollers sized him up, a threatening and annoying gesture to some but one that was pre-programmed into all their class. Barrel fixed his worn out baby blue mechanics hat on his head and walked to meet the Roller halfway.

The Roller saluted him and presented himself as OAB-549, or corporal Noey to be more casual.  Barrel shook his now extending hand began to inquire about the tower.

“Okay unit, tell me, just what in the world has been happening out here? First the gen-core in the riverbed, and two control nodes on the way up here. You guys letting the wildlife have a feel day out here or am I missing something?"  He said, scratching his head as he scanned the horizon.

Noey saluted again and began to respond “Started ‘bout three days ‘go sir! Goedy OBY-461, Tom OYX-778 and myself all were bunkered down during that wind storm the other day, sir. We have had them before but this one was something fierce. We heard when the tower got bent, sound like something slammed into it. It’s in good shape, power linkage is still good but it needs some calibration if you ask me, sir.” Noey finished as he eased himself.

Barrel had been filling out his data-pad with notes and observations of the area. He knew it was ramshackle out here, but not this much. He would have to tell his bosses what was going on out here. The Com-tower was the only one in this region and was vital for the few settlers that did live out here. It would be easier if they had moved to the outpost with the rest of the colonist, but to each there own, he liked to say. After taking a few more notes, asking a few specific questions about the region's maintenance and having a snack with the rollers, Barrel set off to do his repairs.

As he rode up to the tower he could see it’s slightly crooked slant up close. From afar he could see that it was obviously damaged, but from here, it did not look too bad. Hopping off his trike he stretched and looked for a way up the tower. He saw two long cables connecting the tower to the service station nearby and proceed to repel himself up one. Pulling out his repelling tool he easy zipped up the line and landed on one of the crooked platforms up top. He noted that there was once a ladder that was attached to the scaffolding but had seemed to have been torn off by the winds of the storm. There were also a few scratches and dints in the tower, most likely form rocks and pebbles being blown about.

The odd thing was the feathers. They were black and musty and had some strange oily substance covering them. Barrel was no outdoorsmen, but he knew for a fact that no fauna like this existed out here. Most of the creatures should be Glassoids like himself. He shrugged it off and began to work on the com-tower bit by bit. As he finished realigning the dishes and fixing bent antenna, he proceeded to correct the crooked alignment of the tower by compensating for it with the onboard projection software.  As he attempted to use the computer terminal, he was taken aback to find that it had been busted out. It was as if someone drove a stake into it out of spite for it being there. Undaunted by this, however, Barrel simply pulled out his datapad and began to do his adjustments from there.

Freely jumping down from the tower, Barrel landed right next to his hover trike. Stretching again before getting on his bike he stopped to look at his handy work. The tower was still crooked and bent, but the data readings indicated that it was reweaving optimal signal again. As he swiped at his datapad in search of more work sites, a massive, dark shadow flew over him. He looked up in the air on to have his eyes be greeted by the rays of the mid-day sun. Barrel was unnerved, nothing like that was supposed to be in this region. He had never seen anything that big before, at least nothing organic. Barrel got on his communicator and radioed down to the scurry station. The station’s digital ancillary was the one who picked up his call. Staying calm, Barrel began to speak, just as the caught a whiff of the strong musk from the feathers falling.

Instinctively, he ran to the small shack that housed the com-towers radio station. He could feel its hot breath as he slammed the door behind him. Diving under the control deck of the station he tried to hide, knowing that the creature was still lurking right out the door. As he tried to radio down to the scurry outpost for aid, the sounds of loud glass interrupted him as he flinched in shock. The smell of must filled the room followed by a screech...

Inktober 2017 day 7

Todays prompted was shy.

I almost forgot about this one, so I had to do something really quick.  I think this is the fastest I have ever typed up anything in my Life, next to essay drafts.  Hope I caught all those typos.

The chimera pulled at Juno’s hand impatiently as he walked her down to their destination. Her hand was clammy and scaly and felt so thin and brittle that Juno did not want to hold it out of fear of breaking it. She was at least five years old, by chimera standers, and bore no marks of servitude to the Oggnear or any of its houses. She was tall for her age as well, at least as big as a 10-year-old human child. From his experience, Juno could tell that she was a natural born chimera as appose to one grown in the vats. She was tamed and timid and was extremely shy.  Her hair was a large woolly clump on her head, and she wore a large scarf to hide her wide mouth and fritting teeth.

When he first spotted her hiding in a drainage ditch, she jumped out at him and began to cling on to him like an infant. He had almost shot her, but as he felt her scurry around him like a lost rodent he instantly felt pity for her.  His squad laughed at him at first but after seeing the chimera quivering in his arms they quickly changed their tone. The Shock and fear from surviving the initial bombardment of the planet must have been too much. She must have had a mother, or caretakers down there. Juno fretted to think of what had happened to them.

Juno could not help but feel like a barbarian. As justified this war was, and as treacherous and wicked the Oggnear was, this was just too much. They had annulated at least 90% of all the inhabited portions of that world. The death tolls were on the rise. As she looked up to him he could see those dark pitted eyes of hers begun to realize the gravity of their actions herself. Juno would not be surprised if she grew to hate them, grew to hate him. Ever since they brought her onboard and cleaned her up she had been more reserved. The sight of so many Glassoids carrying arms must have been unnerving. Some even had the grim and gore of battle on them.

Glassoids were meant for war, just as the Chimera. Their Ka-ka-ju masters had already abandoned them before they had even entered the system. A wise and tacitly necessary move, but ruthlessly cruel and uncaring. Juno was one of the first of the Circle’s Grenadier detachments that landed on Cel’ear and thus saw the devastation first hand. A Corporal with 3 prior campaigns under his belt Juno was accustomed to the Glassoid way of war. With so much untapped resource and potential on Cel’ear, it would have been a waste to destroy it with any of the Steller engines they had on hand. Over 30 million Constructs and at least 6 million of the circle’s finest touched down on Cel’ear to bring retribution. The Chimera did not even put up a fight.

Juno had brought the Chimera onboard to be cleaned up and evaluated by the Medicos. He volunteered to be personally reasonable for her and to take care of her till they returned home.  As they left the more populated quarters of the ship, Juno began to think about her future. Left to the Oggnear, she would have been a servant or maid, or worse, breading stalk for the other chimera. With the Circle of rounds, however, she had a chance. The Medicos had evaluated her and gave green marks all around. She carried no plague or diseases and was not implanted to be a sleeper agent from what they could tell. She could be integrated with organic society, or be raised by a Glassoid family.  He had thought about being a caretaker for her, but with the conflict becoming more heated, he doubted he would survive to see her grow. Still, he looked down at her to meet her eyes he thought about a good name for her.  Shy was the only name he could conjure at that moment, but seeing her eyes return a look of approval after first hearing the name, he felt like it was a good chose.


Inktober 2017 day 6

Today’s prompt was “Sword”

No writing today, trying to enjoy my weekend early. I may write something longer for the next prompt.