Archive for November 14th, 2011
#14 Wilson
Wilson
Apparently little Wilson was not a fierce enough guard animal. So his master, the mad Dr. Frecklehyde modified him to be more effective.
#14 – Earoque
#14 – Earoque
Pronounced Air-o-quay, she’s a member of the mermaish tribe, who lives her life beneath the waves in the other realm. With a life that consists of peace and serenity, her days are filled with singing soft flowing music to the other creatures of the sea. Her voice is like a silken cloud that settles over those who benefit from hearing it.
She seeks out her friends and when they combine together to sing, no one can resist them. They have no desire to harm the sailors or other creatures of the sea, only to give each a moment of bliss that they can reflect on for years to come. It is said that to hear their song makes one’s life complete.
This picture was drawn by my talented daughter, Mackenzie, in an effort to give folks something nice to look at versus my wacky characters.
#14 Caterine Belrose – Student
This is really my favorite week of the year, Finals Week. When all the other students are feverishly cramming in a futile effort to improve their grades, the campus is deserted and I have the free-run of the streets. The bars and restaurants with lines around the block will show me right in, no matter what time I decide to show up. It’s just so much fun.
Half the students are always furious at me, cursing me for ruining the curves with perfect scores on every test. The other half just keep begging me to join their little study groups. I try to turn them down politely, but it’s hard to not laugh. Study? Me? Ha. And it’s not like I’m cheating, despite what the professors think. I just know the subject matter. It’d be a surprise if I didn’t, after working with it for more than a hundred years.
I don’t know why the government made that stupid law, just because all of us monsters came out of the darkness. Nobody ever complained about my work before I came out, so why do I have to go through re-earning all of my degrees just because their a few decades old?
I actually thought people would come to me, wanting to ask questions. I was at the Solvay conference, watching the greatest minds throw up their hands at nuclear radiation, and I was there a decade later when Heisenberg proposed his quantum theory. I was teaching aide at UIC and stood next to Fermi when he started his reactor. This is the foundation of science and I could tell them all about it.
But no, they don’t want that. They just want us bloodsuckers and lycans to disappear again. Since they can’t shove us back into their nightmares, they do the next best thing. They bury us in an ivory tomb.
#9 Niko
This is the 2nd character in a story I’m tossing around about an oppressively matriarchal culture. Because unlike many feminists would like to believe, men aren’t the only ones capable of despotism, oppression, delusions of grandeur, and warmongering.
Niko was no fool. Although it was an honor to be chosen as house guard for the Bear family, he knew that he hadn’t been chosen out of merit. And the old men could damn well stop reminding him of this. Not that it injured his pride- he was simply to young to have been tested in any remarkable way, had never seen action, had never done more than patrol the city nights.
He knew himself capable, had earned his scant titles, if not dramatically then at least fairly, having worked his way through more than his fair share of drunken disputes. It was no mystery why so many of those problems landed on him. Not since he had overheard the sector chief tell his pit-boss, “Send in the pretty one. The only thing more powerful than a drunk sister’s pride is her lust. He’ll be able to make them see reason.â€
It didn’t smart half as much as it might have. Niko knew the chief was a sensible and crafty woman, more willing than most to bring justice down on a Lady. Even a Lady of a House.  And as far as he was concerned, he learned a lot in dealing with these situations with an equal measure of severity and tact. He could never understand how these perfectly civilized women could become such petty beasts, then wake the next day contrite and shamefaced. It made him glad that drinking was forbidden for men. If creatures as adept at self-control as women were reduced to screaming and groping beasts, he could not imagine what he or his kin would be like with one too many under his belt. Some of his brethren had tried it, once or twice. It was not a trespass of the first order. But for himself, he would never.
But he doubted that even this type of experience got him the post. He suspected that it was another case of “send in the pretty one.â€Â Suspected, hell, it didn’t take a woman’s brain to tie a few facts together; the first being that he did not rightfully qualify for a post of this magnitude in a House as prominent as Bear was, the second being the much touted coming of age for a Lady who was rumored to be Elder Nameh’s favorite grandchild, the third being that Elder Nameh had not ever been known to make fickle or senseless choices, and the fourth and final fact– that he and the four other guard chosen were young, inexperienced, and good looking.
No mistake, his coming here was a test. Not of himself, he would never be so arrogant as to think such a thing, but of the young Lady in question. His Brethren had confirmed his suspicions. There was little doubt but that one of them was to be that pretty thing that she must see daily but must not touch. It was a test that he and his brethren were well familiar with. These sorts of tests were given to every boy long before puberty so that he may learn self-control before his urges began to impose their heavy toll on mind and soul. But this was not the sort of thing a woman was usually subjected to. Not even a spirited potential heir.
Then again, this was house Bear, and Elder Nameh was renowned for her ruthless dealings, not only with the men her House claimed, but with every living soul under her care. Niko was not so proud a fool not to admit that this particular confluence of events was filling him with an unexpectedly heavy level of dread.
#14 Pisces
 Pisces is another of the zodiac wolves. He is still under the possession of January’s brother, and a potential dangerous tool for Thanatos. Thanatos is able to control Pisces through January’s brother, and Pisces colors have darkened now due to his keepers possession. January works hard to free Pisces from Thanatos’s clutches, and Pisces from his dark state. Pisces is unaware of his actions in his dark state and cannot control himself.
Character 14 – Firage XIV
Firage XIV – a character for a story I’m writing to be adapted into a small game project over the holidays.
Lathanar, Advisor of Upper City
Even in a supposed utopia there are those who thirst for power and undeserved recognition, though telling them they were undeserving would fall on deaf ears. Those who suffer from the fatal flaw of believing themselves to be the entitled ones in a world of serfs, rarely can be told much of anything resembling the truth.
 Lathanar is secretly covetous of the position currently held by the current governor of the Lakes District of Upper City by right of heredity and appointment of the Council of T’rest, which is the governing body for the planet. At least that is what they have believed for centuries.
Lathanar truly believed he could do a better job than the current governor, and that would probably be so if all there was to governing was devising policy and signing papers and accounting for incomes and expenditures. Lathanar is extremely good at those things, which is why he was appointed chief advisor in the first place. But this stroke of good fortune based on his very real and excessively helpful talents has only served to make him bitter, for why give him the whole pie, but not the filling, too? Being so close to the governorship and yet not being the governor chafed him badly. So badly that he tended to unsconsciously grit his teeth a lot of the time. So much so that he developed the muscles in his jaw into small hard round knots at his jaw line.
He had the austere face of a saint, yet none of a saint’s better qualities. He was good at his job. He knew the rules and he followed them to the letter, made sure everyone knew it, and urged others –to their vast annoyance– to do the same. Nitpicking exactitude has never made one popular. Quite the opposite. But Lathanar believed that people were simply jealous of his high position, and never wondered why they all loved the governor whose position was even higher. They say there are none so blind as those who simply will not see.
“But Your Grace…”, Lathanar leaned forward eager to get his point across, “these papers must be signed today or the council will not be able to ratify the decision until another two weeks have passed. I have it on good authority that…”
“Yes, yes! Good authority,The Governore waved a hand interrupting his advisor. “Still, I have not made up my own mind about it and this case is one that requires cool assessment and a certain levening amount of compassion,” the Governor said.
Er… exuse me, my lord,” squeaked Lathanar, ” Compassion?”
“Lathanar, everyone makes mistakes.” The Governor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, tired and exasperated.
“But my lord… ”
“Oh, not you of course, Lathanar,” the Governor said. “But most mortals have pressures in their lives that they sometimes cannot cope with that will engender the making of bad decisions.”
He turned from the vast window that let him view the courtyard with it’s beautiful fountain and gazed wearily upon his aide, “Those of us upon whom fortune has smiled could do no better than to consider those upon whom fortune has not smiled.” And without seeing the irony in it he smiled briefly at his advisor and noting that his words had simply glanced off the severe man, shook his head sadly.
#14: Tabitha
Once upon a time, there was a girl who didn’t believe in herself. She loved to dance but did not think she was any good at it, if you were able to get past the sham confidence she wore like armour. The only time she believed it was when she got the role she wanted. However, that did not happen a lot, because as good as she was at dancing – and it is worth saying that she was very good at it – there was another girl who was equally good at dancing and believed she was good at it too. There is a lot to be said about making others think you believe in yourself and actually believing it.
It’s not a healthy way to think about oneself, and it showed in the way she treated others and herself. Most people only saw the overly proud, angry girl who moved like a predator: light-footed and quick, stalking until the right moment, taking advantage of weakness. No one ever saw the girl who practiced until long past midnight, dancing alone in the woods because no one could see when she failed. Maybe if they had, they might have pitied her more than they did, because they knew how she compared herself to the other dancer.
It was for the best they didn’t, because she saw pity as a weakness and would have punched them in the face before berating herself even more.
The girl’s life continued like this and would inevitably end how it did. You don’t grow up full of jealousy and hatred and not turn out bad when you’re trapped in another’s story.
And so, two lives came to an end, one during the day and one during the night, and both at the hands of each other. Neither girl could be blamed, not entirely, because one loved as strongly as the other hated. If anything, it’s surprising how long it took to get there.
Then the girl died again, this time at the hands of the other, fingers plucking teeth out of mouths like pulling petals from a flower.
When you embark on a journey of revenge, either dig two graves or climb out of yours and save yourself the trouble.
Now, the story doesn’t end there. That would be boring and unexpected for a tale such as this.
Just as one girl came back, so did this one. It’s so easy to move your lifeless bones when you are filled with hate and little else. Dying was merely a transition in state instead of the grand finale. So this girl was buried in a criminal’s grave, which is to say her body was thrown on the pyre because that was what her town did with their remains. Not to mention that they were scared of their dead now. And rightly so.
As her flesh melts and her bones cracked, the girl woke up. She sat up on her bed of flames, or at least thought she did. Most of her remained lifeless, so she made herself a new body of heat and ash, which suited her better because her old one had been worthless anyway. What use did she have for a body that couldn’t dance even when she had been alive? Â This one was beautiful and strong, its light searing the hearts of those who dared to watch her fall. She stood up and dressed herself in orange and yellow, burning brightly. As she walked towards the nearest spectator the cobblestones melted beneath her feet.
What happened after that is merely speculation. Anyone who survived that night – and few did, to be honest – refused to speak of it. Or couldn’t, in the case of one poor person (which was the operative term for someone who no longer had identifying features of any sort). But everyone knows to stay out of the woods when dusk falls.
Don’t go in the woods, parents tell their children, barmen tell travellers, bards tell their audience, not in the hushed tones of a wonderful and bloody story but in the quaking whispers of those who know too much. If you must, turn out your light and stumble in the darkness. Stumbling is best, because anything else makes her jealous, seeing another move with the grace of a night-time predator. She looks like a girl wearing a dress made of sunlight, but she moves like a cat, all smooth movements and inhuman litheness. Then she takes you as her partner and makes you dance. Flames appear with every step of her feet but do not burn the foliage, licking at your feet instead. When it’s done with your feet, it moves up to your legs, your waist, your breast, your arms, yours heads until all of you is consumed by fire and the last thing you see is the bitter toothless smile.
And how do you know that, asks one member of the audience to the bard.
Then the bard smiles what would have been a toothy smile and asks for a dance.
10 – Zimnoilur
There are currently seven recognised species of griffon extant today, the most famous, studied and numerous is the Heraldic Griffon, but there are also the Great Griffon, Plains Griffon, Griffon-swift, Little Griffon-swift, Imperial Griffon, and least known of all, the Marsh Griffon. The Marsh Griffons are by far the most intelligent, but least known of the species – they breed high on the Russian Tundra in isolated pools and migrate south to spend the winter in a few small areas of Southern India and Sri Lanka in their drabber grey winter plumage. They have a very complicated language of their own, and pick up the languages of others far faster than any human. Marsh Griffon language sounds like a high pitched piping noise, and is considered one of the most difficult languages to master on the basis it’s designed to be spoken with a long thin beak
Zimnoilur is a current “outflier” – each generation three young marsh griffons are selected to live amoung humanity to act as diplomats and share knowledge to the gain of both sides.  The three usually have a far more intimate knowledge of the oldest fundementals of magic than any living human, often knowing nuance that has been lost for millenia. He is also a world class expert on folkloric creatures found on the tundra, an area with a disproportionatly high level of such things, making his consul valued for research on magical beasts, further aided by the fact that all griffons can see into the thaumic (magical) parts of the spectrum. Like most marsh griffons, he is not a fighter, and tho he can defend himself, their first instinct is flight or hide.
For this character, I’d decided I wanted to create a griffon using a non-raptor as the bird part – I settled on a black redshank due to it’s stylish summer plumage, and I liked the idea of a sentient character both migrating and having different plumage at different times of the year. To have a non human living in an isolated community, I needed to make him different to Shiqi, so while Shiqi was from a magically created warrior race, Zimnoilur is a non-combative academic of sorts from an apparently naturally evolved lineage. The two probably don’t get along as Shiqi or one of his people would probably happily catch, kill and eat a marsh griffon should the opportunity arise.
Day 12: Jamal and Ric
Jamal and Ric had plans. Raised on the streets together, they decided that they wouldn’t grow up like the greedy slum lords that controlled the streets.
No, they would dream bigger.
From a very young age they’ve trained to become the greatest crime lords the world would ever know. They started small, acts of larceny, petty fights, but their aim climbs higher all of the time.
They were perfectly on track to realize their malicious dreams.
And then Jamal had to go and get superpowers.
He and his flight and superstrength are drifting toward more moral goals. The same passion that Jamal had for crimefighting is now enveloped with the long strides of a superhero. Jamal always just wanted to be a catalyst for change in his neighborhood. He thought he had to do that by being the worst of them. Now? He controls his destiny.
But for Ric, being a great criminal was more than a passing diversion. It is his whole life. He will doggedly pursue his goals without pause.
Time and again the former brothers in arms will find themselves as opposing forces. There’s no way to say who will come out on top.
#14 Shortstradamus The Small Medium at Large!
Shortstradamus is a midget psychic who just escaped from prison where he was serving 8 years for using his powers to defraud gullible idiots.
Police have issued the warning… SMALL MEDIUM AT LARGE!
#14 Munch
What Canadian doesn’t have a friendly, hockey-playing beaver for a pet? When our lacrosse superstar makes her way from Northern Canada to Florida, she just can’t bear to leave good ol’ Munch behind!
#13- The Kid
This is The Kid. Although he doesn’t dress like it, The Kid is the youngest agent to ever graduate from Elite Academy. Figuratively, he is a young man with an old soul. He has a fondness for the Old West and considers himself quite the gunslinger even though his six shooter is actually more like a weapon from a science fiction movie with limitless ammo and its plasma rounds. Brash and cocky, the Kid often gets himself into more trouble than he can get himself out of. I like to think of him as a cross between Robin (from DC) and Billy the Kid…if either one of them were a goat. Â 🙂
Previous Character Creations (so far):
Day #12 Pinch-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-12.html
Day #11 Whisper-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-11-neptune.html
Day #10 Axefist-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-10-axefist.html
Day #9 Agent Speck-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-9-speck.html
Day #8 Dusty-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-8-dusty.html
Day #7 Professor Pinn-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/professor-pinn-is-like-q-from-007.html
Day #6 Flinch-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-6-flinch.html
Day #5 Flitter-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-5-flitter.html
Day #4 Smoke-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/day-4-smoke.html
Day #3 Agent Blitz-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/30-characters-challenge-day-3-blitz.html
Day #2 Rhinoceros Rex-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/30-characters-challenge-day-2.html
Day #1 Agent Acorn-Â http://eadgeart.blogspot.com/2011/11/30-characters-challenge-day-1-agent.html
Thanks for viewing.
Eadge
Day 12 El Bala Azul
Crimson Bullet’s arch nemesis. Did he copy the bullet? Or was El Bala Azul first? There is a shortage of Mustachioed superheros.
Day 14: Wilde
Wilde (not her given name) is a backwoods/outdoors woman. No one knows where she hails from but she is an excellent tracker. She tends to keep to herself but will sometimes aid hikers who’ve become lost etc. She spends some of her hunting poachers.
#9 The Mini-Kraws
Mini-Kraws are creatures unknown in origin who unquestionably do the bidding of their “father” The Thunder-Kraw. The Thunder-Kraw is a sentient creature who serves the commands of his rider the Slaymaiden. Very little is known about these beings for anyone who has encountered them has either died at the event or has been conquered and is in no position to share stories. The Slaymaiden and therefor the Thunder-Kraw and millions of Mini-Kraws serve a powerful intergalactic warlord who’s identity is not yet known.
The webcomic “Internal Hero Presents”
Artist G.R. aka @retrospect360 on Twitter
#14 – Magpie
I asked Kim if designing Mercy’s teenage form was legit as another character and she said it was, since Magpie was basically a different person, so it is. Magpie was pretty young compared to the rest of her team, second only to Owen, and she was a foolish girl. Brilliant, fast, graceful and confident, but foolish. Her shield and flight powers made combat a laughably easy affair, and she slacked on physical training as a result. She grew overconfident, and when she was stabbed, abducted and lost her powers forever, it was partially her fault. Her sense of invincibility did her in. Three years later she would emerge as Mercy, a powerless woman more powerful than she ever was. Also, she went through a super, super unfortunate goth phase. SORRY WORLD.
#3- Moustache McGloin
Moustache McGloin -Mystic Detective.
During one fateful evening in Ireland ten years ago, a young Michael “Moustache” McGloin was enjoying a boys night out on the town. Before the night was over his travels had brought him to the site where the Blarney stone was displayed. A sudden burst of lightening from the sky, splintered, hitting both the Blarney stone and Michael. What happened next changed Michael’s life forever. The lighting had opened the mystic abilities of the stone and bonded them with Michael. From that day forward Michael was able to see a whole new world than the one he was used to. Being ever the opportunist, Michael decided to use these abilities for the betterment of man and his wallet.
#14 Peeping Paulie
Peeping Paulie lives in a house at the end of the street with his pet cats. Why is he always peeping out the window? Is it because he’s nosy or is it to escape the smell of 34 cats and one tiny litter box.
#30Characters Chatter…