Inktober 2017 day 25

Wizzard dude, chilling doing wizard stuff.

Inktober 2017 Day 23

Brush drawing on brown paper. I need to finish drawing in that sketchbook…

I have not been writing as of late due to me having to work on the game rules a bit. I will probably get back to writing on Wednesday or so…

Inktober 2017 Day 19

I drew Cuphead. I need to buy some fresh markers. All my reds are dried up.

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 17

I’m going to get back to writing sometime this week.  Need to chill out for the next few days and do class work first…

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 13

I’m taking the weekend off. Be back on Sunday. Have a scribble of a house till then.

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…