RSSCategory: Drama

17 Lindy the Giant Handler

| November 17, 2011 | 0 Comments

17 Lindy the Giant Handler
Lindy is still a child, but she is able to outwit the frost giant that happens to molest her town. Everyone but Lindy fears the frost giant and she’s taken it upon herself to take care of him.

#16 Clive

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

 

So this is why it’s called a CHALLENGE!!!

I have fallen behind big time. About a week’s worth. But here we go, let me try to catch up…

In adding to the 99% theme that I started on with the first post, here is Clive.

Clive is a genius MIT engineering graduate who cannot find a job in his field as most of the jobs in his industry have gone overseas. So he’s had to settle for a job paying minimum wages to try to keep from going into default on his student loan. The reality for the 99%…

#15 Dorothea Graves

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Ethnologist. Widow. Investigating a murder.

Continue Reading

#16 Christopher Moros

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments
> Enter

You’re dreaming, Chris tells himself, but it’s a lie and a bad one at that. Dream or not, he’s still rooted to the ground, too scared to even shiver as the tentacles don’t belong there thing destroys building after building. The world is falling around him, and he can’t run. His legs won’t obey him. It’s like they’ve declared autonomy from the rest of his body, and that means doing absolutely nothing.

A long appendage covered in too many suckers and eyes swings out above him and becomes embedded in the brick building above him.

Chris wishes he could have thought of something clever for his last thoughts, or maybe even something mundane like I hope someone remembers to feed the cat but his mind is stuck on oh shit oh shit oh shit

The first pieces of rubble break loose, followed by the rest when the Thing frees itself, and–

> Return

“So you do this for a living or something?” asks Chris, much later, and his hands are shaking too much to light the cigarette he needs to make his hands stop shaking but he’s nothing if not persistent. How he managed to roll it is better left unmentioned.

Ananke – which is his name, but Chris isn’t entirely sure on that entire statement, the name and the his part, but whatever – frowns at the cigarette but doesn’t comment on it. “It’s more like volunteering,” he says, still dressed in the same double-breasted suit that he was wearing a few hours ago when that Thing was around and causing trouble.

Finally, after a good five minutes of constant attempts, the cigarette is finally lit. Chris takes a long drag on it, filling his lungs with acrid, earthy smoke. “That’s pretty shitty,” he says.

> Return

Ananke starts sleeping on Chris’s couch. When that arrangement started, Chris doesn’t remember. Some time after the second time Ananke saved everyone’s asses. It might have to do with how Chris is the only person who was at both scenes besides Ananke, or it might have to do with how Chris offered to buy him dinner for the second save and Ananke followed him home and never left.

Guy saves your life twice. It’d just be rude to not offer something in return, even if it is a shitty meal and a shittier couch.

> Return

Oh god help someone help please help me help us help him

> Enter

“I didn’t know there were two of us,” says Ananke, without any recognition in his eyes.

Chris’s chest tightens briefly before destroying the Thing-With-Tentacles-Where-There-Should-Never-Be-Tentacles. “Me neither,” he lies.

> Return

“–and then suddenly, I can make energy bolts come out of my hands,” finishes Ananke, complete with the necessary hand gestures and sound effects. “How did you get your powers?”

“I made a wish.” He wants a cigarette badly, but that would mean having to leave the apartment and he can’t go now.

“Like with a genie? Does that mean you get two more wishes?”

He shakes his head. F***, really need that cigarette. “Used them all up,” he admits. Damn stupid idea, too, but genies are tricky bastards. They’ll twist your words around and make anything a wish (should have remembered what Mom said, but Mom doesn’t talk to you any more, not after you stepped out of Narnia).

“On what?” he asks, and that’s it, you need a smoke now.

> Return

This was wrong, all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to die here, not now and not like this. But he is. He’s dead and the blood is still seeping out of him but that will stop soon and he’s looking at you with his brown eyes that still look alive but he’s not he’s not he’s not

> Enter

“Go home,” says Chris, before trapping that Thing in a Bubble. One rotation, and it ages instantly and turns to dust.

“No way,” replies Ananke. His eyes are so bright and wide, looking at Chris as if he’s the most amazing thing in the world.

“Don’t expect me to save your ass again,” he bites back. What a liar.

> Return

He stopped smoking, but the urge is still present. He figured out how to use his powers to speed up through getting past the physical withdrawal but right now, he really wants a smoke.

“Wanna go get dinner?” asks Ananke, like fighting monsters from the Eighth Ring is considered to be an appropriate segway to a date.

Whatever.

> Return

“How did you wind up here?” asks Ananke, a few weeks later. He is still sleeping on the couch, but it’s large and comfy enough that even Chris, all six feet two inches and one hundred and sixty-eight pounds of him, could sleep on it and not wake up regretting it. Ananke is much smaller, and is using Chris as a pillow. “In this city, I mean?”

How is a great question but not one that he likes to think about. “I had a fight with my parents,” he replies, summarizing a six hour long yelling match that resulted in him storming out with nothing but his wallet, his laptop, and the clothes on his back. He never got the rest of his belongings back – Mom always went overboard and burnt the whole lot – but Dad at least helped cover the cost of replacing some of it. Behind her back, of course. “I left, got the first bus I could get out of town, and wound up here.”

“How serendipitous,” and it’s so earnest that Chris can’t help but laugh despite everything.

> Return

Third time unlucky, and this time Chris is the one bleeding out, or was, but he can’t stop time forever. His concentration will lapse and suddenly it will be all over.

“F***,” swears Ananke, for the first time ever since they met. He didn’t even swear when Chris caught him stark naked one time, curling up upon himself like what was between his legs mattered to who he thought he was. It’s different now, though, because Ananke’s hands are covered in blood when he first tried to apply pressure to the large laceration.

“It’s okay,” Chris tries to tell him, but the words get caught in his throat and blood comes out instead. He chokes, and suddenly there’s no more time now. The Bubble bursts and his life starts to flow away from him again. It’s now or never (again).

“I’ll see you soon,” he can’t say. Spins the wheel backwards and

> Enter

2011 Day 16 “Ranor A’tai Denala” of Upper City from my Novel, “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 16 “Ranor A’tai Denala” of Upper City from my Novel, “Mentor”
Ranor A’tai Denala, the world’s foremost Synthetic DNA Designer

Money was no object to a family whose ancestors made planetfall here, and they agreed in secret to hire the world’s most foremost Synthetic DNA Designer, Ranor A’tai Denala. He was a most difficult man to work with, slightly mad most people said.  And what would you expect from a man who got top money for creating designer pets and designer people for the dependent, declining society of the Upper City on the planet T’rest.

 

Day #7: Dolores

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Sometimes Dolores feels like she’s made of bad news.

2011 Day 15 “a’tannattal” of Upper City from my novel “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 15 "a'tannattal" of Upper City from my novel "Mentor"
a’tannattal

a’tannattal is the name on the certificate of ownership. the young lady whom he is destined to serve, calls him “Natti” though such informality is frowned upon. He is of the Non Class known as Synth Droids, his designation being U-AM7 z3t48L 426000. That is the alphanumeric code found on all documents pertaining to a’tannattal right back to the original synthetic DNA design sheets.

At the BioSynth Technologies Corporation he is simply known as U-AM7 z3t48L 426000. The M in a’tannattal’s number tells us that he is a mentor droid. The A that he is A-class, or that is he checks out as near as perfect as one could hope for from what is both an art and a science that tinkers with the basics of life itself. And the U? Well that is really important. The U means that the design of his synthetic DNA is unique. One of a kind. Which of course means that the DNA from that design can not be used for another Synth Droid of any type unless the present U-AM7 z3t48L 426000 has been destroyed. The original Synth DNA is kept locked away at the Bio Synth Technologies Corporation labs.

a’tannattal knows this. He made it his business to know, since, well, it is his business to know. He has the sole responsibility in this household for the tutelage of the daughter of the Governor of the Lakes District of T’rest. And a thirsty for knowledge young lady she is. He knows, but what he thinks about it no one has ever asked him, with the exception of his precocious pupil. And to her he gives no answer. They both know it is improper for her to ask him personal questions. And this meets with a’tannattal’s approval, since there are things that he thinks of which he would rather not speak to the humans.

He was brought to her the very hour she was born. He remembered that day as well as if he’d borne her himself. That day he fell deeply in love with the child. He couldn’t help it. It never occured to him to help it. It was the way his DNA was designed, and that was that. He was bonded to the child for life. Both hers and his. And though she often tried his patience to the limit. He loved her now no less and no more than he loved her when he first held her in his arms, smelled the fresh baby smell of her, imbibing the natural pherimones that were uniquely hers, cementing the bond that been designed into every fibre of his existence.

He had been told how he came into existence. The Lady Renala and her sister’s husband, the child’s father,  had wanted  to give the child’s mother, Deira, a perfect birthing gift. An older wiser companion who would be all things a growing child would need: A second mother, a protector, a teacher, a playmate, and more.

Money was no object to a family whose ancestors made planetfall here, and they agreed in secret to hire the world’s most foremost Synthetic DNA Designer, Ranor A’tai Denala. He was a most difficult man to work with, slightly mad most people said. Of course they would never say that to a Synth Droid, but rumours got around.

a’tannattal still marvelled that a full grown synthdroid could be grown in a vat in less than a month, while a human child took over nine months to get to a point where growing outside their mother’s womb would commence. Most of his learning had taken place in the holotubes where he was drilled incessantly about social protocols, natural history, social history, planetary and galactic history, basic mathematics and up and up  beyond quantum mechanics so that he would have everything on tap that his young protege might require.

And yet… How could one being be all that another could require, designed or not? He knew to his great sorrow he had failed her. Some flaw in his design? Or in hers? Perhaps if her mother had not died when she was still a babe. Perhaps there were no real answers to those kinds of questions. Or perhaps, when he found her… perhaps then he would know.

2011 Day 14 a scut, creature from UnderCity in my novel “Mentor”

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

2011 Day 14 a scut, creature from UnderCity in my novel "Mentor"

A scut

Scut:  an arachnoid creature with ten to twelve legs holding suspended a fleshy flattened ovoid cylinder of a body. Bulbous glossy black eyes on short stalks on top of the body draw the attention away from the  cutting  jaws and sucking mandibles underneath.

The body itself is fairly soft but the legs are hard chitin and can be pulled up and over the soft body to protect its self. Scuts will not attack a moving target. They are scavengers really but they have been know to attack the wounded, basically to feed on them.

They prefer to nest in the higher reaches of Under City laying their trap webs to catch the unwary Flitbirds that also nest up there. In turn the Flitbirds often feast on the flesh and ichor of  the scuts. Turn about being fair play in the war to survive.

Often one of the multitudinous scuts will fall off their high nests to the ground very very far below. If they can get their legs into the defensive mode they may even survive the fall.

The scut pictured has been attacked by a predator and has lost some of its limbs, which are now regenerating. Often an injured scut will not survive, especially if it is immobilised, as its brethren will make short work of it.

Nothing goes to waste in the UnderCity.

Desert Dweller

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

#10 Althea

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

This is the 3rd 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.

 

Coming from a House of such renown and stature as House Bear, Althea knew that it was hard to get an honest assessment of her person.  But she prided herself in being a realist, a trait which her grandmother Tante Nameh put a lot of emphasis on.  And so, realistically she could say that she was beautiful, but that beauty didn’t amount to much outside of brood mares.  She could say that she was passionate, but many in her family used that as more of a criticism than a compliment.

What she would not say out loud was that she believed herself to be shrewd and a good judge of character, even though she was still, by all standards, quite young for an adult.  Like her grandmother she could cut to the quick of a matter, disregarding details which were unimportant and merely served as distractions.  People’s machinations did not slow her down, she had the skill of assessing not only what was being said, but the reasons why the speaker would say them and the things they would prefer not to mention.

She had been sitting in chambers at what council meetings she could for years, and had found that her reactions and decisions mirrored closely that of the women whom she most looked up to.  Tante Nameh had even been willing to take her in confidence, noticing (as little ever escaped her notice) the diligence with which Althea attended all affairs of state, paying attention to every detail so as not to miss those little cues that people so often betrayed themselves with.

This was the main reason why she would not disclose quite how aware she was of the world around her.  Best to leave others underestimating her, judging her a careless prankster, they gave so much more away to her than they ever did in her grandmother’s presence, and this information had proved useful for her Tante more than once.  And in this, she knew that one of her shortcomings was most likely arrogance, even though she always behaved in a demure and humble manner.

She had another fault.  One she knew and did her best to hide.  And most likely failed at keeping from her Tante, who had eyes in every corner of the world the Mother Sun shone upon.  She was weak with boys and men.  This was a critical flaw, she knew it, but she was powerless to it.  She would have liked to pretend that it was due to some deeper observations on her part, but she had long suspected that it had far more to do with the heat between her legs.

She craved their attention in an unseemly way.  She yearned for the day she might be a Chief, with a fistful of strong bucks answering to her, bowing down to her.  She fantasized of moments where her wisdom earned their honest respect and her canny support earned their undying loyalty.  She could picture herself asking a pit boss what his thoughts on the matter might be, could picture the hush that would fall in the room as she made show of carefully listening to what the man would have to say.  Wether or not he would have useful things to add was nowhere near as important as the affection it would engender in those who served her.

Embarrassing as those thoughts might have been, they paled in comparison to her other flights of fancy.  She would find herself wondering, at the most inappropriate moments, what it would feel like to be touched by this man’s calloused hands, or what it would feel like to run her hand down that other man’s well-muscled arm.  She would catch herself almost panting at the thought of their heat and weight pressing in upon her as they lost control and she let them.

Which was the stupidest thing to do, she knew, but her mind would go there anyway, disregarding all the warnings she had heard her entire life about how dangerous a man became when he was allowed to unleash his passion on a woman.  She wanted it.  That was the sum of it.  She craved a strong and dangerous man to call her own the same way some of her sisters craved drink or smoke.  Her fatal flaw.  And one which she suspected Tante Nameh was more aware of than she let on.  She could feel the woman breathing down her back, she could almost feel the swish of a whip in the woman’s hands, and Althea hoped that whatever Tante had in mind would finally break this spirit horse which ran wild within her.

Geela Clutch

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

GeelaIf being a three and half foot tall space gnome wasn’t whimsical enough, Geela Clutch takes whimsy a bit farther. Geela was attending an Ardorian boarding school for girls when she met up with Hanzle and Finch. When the New Empyrean Order came to shut down the school for harboring fugitives, (The Gradians) Geela and a large portion of the school left with the two scouts. Now Geela aids the intrepid duo in their search for a new home world.

#8 The Duke of Brixton

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

Courageous acts made him legendary. And after saving the King’s only son, a medieval peasant named Henry, with extraordinary abilities far beyond that of common men, was given the honorary title of Duke of Brixton. That title, along with flight, superstrength, & nigh-invulnerability has been passed down from generation to generation ever since. They’ve always stood to protect England & to protect the crown. Nowadays, the threats are even bigger, but the Duke is always at the ready.

The current duke, Simon, has carried the title since 1981. Before that, he was just a kid, listening to ska, wanting nothing to do with his family’s wealth or status. He rebelled against authority, having no intention of ever becoming it. That was until his father died while selflessly thwarting a nuclear blast over Sheffield. It stirred something in the young punk. It was then that he buckled down, realizing that being Duke wasn’t only an obligation, but a symbol of national pride. And in his day, Simon came to be regarded as one of the greatest Dukes in history. He fought terrorists & supervillains. He stopped his own nuclear attacks, & even an alien invasion or two. This also put him directly in the public eye. He had a series of PSA’s with the BBC, he used his likeness to endorse special superscience projects throughout the UK, Hollywood movies based on his exploits, & for a time, his own line of organic yogurts. In the late eighties, he even became a tabloid fixture, sparking a relationship with his then Cold War rival Zavtra, whom he later married & divorced.

More recently, Simon’s fallen out of the limelight. A single father, for a time, he put off superheroics to raise his & Zavtra’s daughter, Alina. When he was ready to come back, the world was different. An influx of other superheroes meant less crises to go around; usually it’d be averted by the time he got there. More than anything these days, The Duke uses his celebrity & pretty substantial means to forward scientific & humanitarian projects at fundraisers & charity dinners, feeling there’s more than one way to be a hero. This, of course does nothing to help the popular belief that he’s too old & washed up to be saving the day. The thing is, he’d retire in a second if his now-grown, & awfully rebellious daughter was ready to assume her inevitable role as the first ‘Duchess of Brixton’. But it seems she’d much rather party & tear up half of London in her own drunken escapades than gear up & save the world. Secretly, Simon can relate. At the same time, he remembers the jarring incident that woke him up, & only hopes Alina pulls herself together before she’s forced to.

—-

Earlier this year, I had an idea for an Entervoid character. She was an entitled, bratty party girl who just happened to be the daughter of superheroes. She was sort of the black sheep & fodder for the tabloids. I started developing her but not much into the family she came from. The furthest I got was that they were a long line of superhumans going far back into the middle ages in the UK, & as a reward for their heroic actions, at some point received an honorary title & were famed protectors of the realm ever since. That was about as far as I got before I got distracted & started doing something else. So here’s her dad. But frankly, if I were to do another void character, I’m thinking right now it’d probably be Glorious Sentai Gokaider Red, my first character from this year. Probably because I think this family has a lot of story to explore, more than you could probably show in character battles.

There of course is no Brixton title in British Heraldry. Figured it was best to make one up as opposed to stepping on a real duke or something. I went with Brixton simply because of the Clash song (& why there’s also maybe a little bit of Paul Simonon going on in the face). Originally, I was just planning to make him look like an upper class, well-yet-casually dressed Englishman in a suit. But I thought that might be a cop out. So I started to work on something that might be his Hero suit, intending it to be something you’d see in like an X-men movie or Wildstorm book from the late nineties/early oughts. Ultimately I’m not super thrilled with it because I don’t think it gets the point across. What I really I wanted, was to kind of give the idea that he’s been a bit vestigial & out of touch, & the last time he was a big deal was that Oasis/Spice Girls sort of era. Oh & he’s supposed to be levitating, not standing on tip toes. It might look a little strange without a point of reference. And again, I’ll give it a proper color job if I ever have the time, but that’s looking less & less likely.

Sorry, that all got a little verbose.

12 – Morag MacLaverty

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

Morag MacLaverty is a social worker of sorts, albeit not exactly your typical one, and this has to do with the fact she is an elf.    Real elves are not the kinds that tend to be featured in books or stories, but something much more dangerous.  Elves are almost always faster, stronger and more intelligent than humans, and a “wild” elf is neither noble nor friendly, and at best will torment humans, and in some cases hunt them for sport, and there are still a fair number of their Faerie mound homes in remote parts of Northern Europe.  They have a rather strange social structure – they are lead by a Queen who speaks directly into the minds of all Elves at all times, and is their ultimate indefiable ruler, her thoughts influencing their every action.  They are also like cuckoos however – they are brood parasites, they do not raise their own young, but replace human children with “changelings”, an elf baby whose magical “glamour” is enough to cause onlookers to accept them as their own, and to grow up until they are old enough to hear the call of the Queen, and begin to slowly think more and more like her…  Several incidents of killing sprees have been connected in retrospect to undetected Elves being influenced by a Queen.

Morag however, is not a typical elf, she was identified at a young age and given the iron choker and bands to wear – for iron blocks that communication, making a wearer safe from the Queen’s influence. It also turns off her glamour and enables people to see her as an Elf.  Discovering that you or your child is an elf is a traumatic experience for any family. Fortunatly Morag’s parents were unusually understanding – their real daughter was recovered after a raid on an Elf mound, and understanding that this was none of the infant Morag’s fault they raised her as their own.  Morag now is employed to help with other cases similar to her own – to track down other Changelings and give them the iron necessary to protect them from the Queen.  A big part of her job is also to counsel families who this has happened to and monitor for signs of abuse - it is not uncommon for the parents to be violent towards a child when they discover they are a fake, and Morag is responsible for taking them into care should there be any signs of this.   She is also highly regarded as her own background lets children coming to terms with the revelation of that identity have someone to talk to who has experience the same thing.  She packs her blessed iron knuckle dusters as on occassion she may have to fight “wild” elves.  Unfortunatly, her department is small, and there always one or two who slip through the net.   

Concept Background: As there are a ton of Elves being entered into this competition, I wanted to have my own attempt at doing one to see if I could put a different twist on it.  The main thing I wanted was to take it back to the original folkloric elves, the nasty ones who stole children and feared iron rather than the ones who sprang from Tolkien.  Puttign these into a modern setting, I came to the idea of a social worker who worked with families who discovered changelings within them and it went from there – it seemed like a logical end result of this in a modern setting.

#16-Blocky Ralboa

| November 16, 2011 | 0 Comments

 

He moves like a brick, hits like a lot of bricks…and has great blocking skills.

#15: Walter Ramsey

| November 16, 2011 | 1 Comment

Loman’s own werewolf agent, Walter Ramsey.

Born in Scotland in the 1600s, Walter was an ordinary traveling merchant until he came across a pack of werewolves in Jurgenburg, Livionia. After witnessing them transform and do battle with demonic entities from a portal, Walter wanted to and was inducted into their pack, called The Hounds of God. As part of the Hounds, Walter protected Europe from demonic threats during his travels, until the height of supernatural paranoia led to the deaths of several of his pack members and the eldest member being lashed when he attempted to reveal their work to the outside world. Walter realized his family was not safe and went to protect them, but his wife, and their daughter, left Walter to sail to the Colonies.

Walter traveled the world in a drunker stupor  over the centuries, fighting any random supernatural threat he comes across while slowly losing himself more and more to his werewolf self, until he was approached by Arthur Loman in working with his Loman Organization. Using a nanomachines to regulate his transformations, Walter was given a renewed sense of purpose in doing the work that he originally started with the Hounds of God.

Currently, Walter works as a field operative for Team Zeus, along with Adam Mortensen. He acts as a semi-father figure to agent Deidra Edelweiss, and a drinking buddy to several members of the Loman Organization.

Abilities: As a werewolf, Walter is capable of transforming into a wolfen creature with enhanced strength, speed and senses. When in his human form, Walter possesses a degree of enhanced strength and all of his enhanced senses.  While Walter is capable of transforming at will, his emotional state in both his human and were forms change based on the phases of the moon.

Having a nanomachine fleet in his body regulates his werewolf states and enable him to have relatively painless transformations via requests to Loman HQ, as well as giving him the ability to transform into various stages of  his Lycan state;

Stage 1: Similar to the Wolfman films, with full hair, enlongated claws and fangs and increased muscle mass.

Stage 2: An in-between to Wolfman and wolf form. Even more increased strength and power.

Stage 3: Looks like a bipedal wolf with a tail and almost full access to his lycan abilities, yet retains his mind

Stage 4: Full access to his werewolf traits, yet is driven by pure instinct and harder to keep in control.

Walter wears flexible body armor that stretches during his transformations and boots that open at the toes when he goes into full werewolf mode. Walter also favors wearing a trenchcoat that is enchanted with protective wards and armor lined to protect Walter form physical and mystical attacks.

Creation: Walter was created as me and Carlos both are werewolf fans and wanted to make a werewolf character. I made him more of a fun character and gave him a laid-back personality, while Carlos helped in fleshing out his backstory and added the father figure role to elemental witch Deidra. I based his character of a historical reference in 1692 by a court testimony about an old man  in Jurgenburg, Livonia, who claimed that werewolves were agents of God and that he and several other werewolves would travel to Hell and fight demons, while the Hounds of God Tag came from a werewolf character in Neil Gaiman’s, The Graveyard Book. The pose shows his semi-casual look as the pose was referencing a Hellblazer cover,, while his werewolf form is shown behind him as a tell of what his werewolf form would look like to the viewer.

#14: Adam Mortensen

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Field Leader and Legendary Weapons Expert, Adam Mortensen.

Adam was an archaeologist who was not respected in his field due to his theories on the possible existence and location of ancient civilizations and the potential of uncovering legendary artifacts. Every attempt at procuring funding resulted in him getting either laughed out or kicked out of every museum, lecture hall, or campus he sets foot in. He was apporached by one man willing to hear out his theory and finance his operation, Arthur Loman.

Adam’s first major expedition resulted in the discovery and procurement of the legendary sword of Roland, Durandal, in a remote temple on the outskirts of France. This discovery not only validated Adam’s ideas, but also inducted him into the Loman Organization as the leading expert in Legendary Weapons and Artifacts. Adam was also made Field Leader of Zeus Unit, Loman’s main field operative force for the Organization. Since then, Adam has dealt with not only excavations and discoveries of the ancient world, but has also confronted and fought with various entities of both the natural and supernatural kind. A strong, if somewhat reckless leader, Adam is willing to put his body on the line if it means someone else won’t have to, as well as for the benefit of the next discovery of the World’s Secrets.

Abilities: Adam is a man who has demonstrated the strength and stamina of a man who maintains regular exercise. Adam is proficient in small and medium weaponry, yet prefers to utilize his main weapon, the sword Durandal. Adam is trained in fencing and melee weapons combat so as to wield Durandal efficiently. His swordsmanship is such that the Supernatural community has listed him as one of the most deadliest swordsman around. Adam also possess a Master’s in Archaeology with specialties in Myths and Ancient Culture, along with recently acquiring knowledge in Werewolf and Vampire culture.

Durandal is a sword whose previous owners included Hector of Troy and Sir Roland, Knight of Charlemagne. The sword was in pristine condition when Adam discovered it, and its edge was still incredibly sharp. Durandal is made from unknown metals that have yet to be determined and  is completely indestructible.

Due to his perchance for getting injured, Adam also wears a special suit called “Ward Wear” which is a combination Kevlar/Nomex weave top, gloves, and boots with carbon ceramic armor plates with sigil coins embedded in key areas of his suit. The coins activate a protective field when Adam is at risk of critical injury from either mystical or practical means.

Adam, so far, is the only individual who has been able to activate or utilize a mythical weapon to its full potential, as others who have attempted to wield Durandal or other items resulted in either no reaction, or severe injury to anyone other than Adam from touching it. It is unknown whether this is genetic or some other reason that makes Adam the sole wielder of said weapons. More research is required to procure an answer.

Creation: Adam Mortensen was the result of utilizing a pre-existing character design from my past collaboration with my friend, Carlos, and putting him in a new guise. During the brainstorming session, I told Carlos my idea for having a Legendary Weapons expert and that is how he came about. He was originally going to be called Adam Munroe, but the name was too similar to another Adam Monroe from the TV series, Heroes, so we both decided on naming him Adam Mortensen, after our mutual respect (i.e., man-crush) on actor and renaissance man, Viggo Mortensen. Durandal was drawn after a Gladius, as its previous owner was Hector, while using the stylings of French swords to complete Durandal.

day nine

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

oh man check me out, look at how far behind i am ahhaha

she’s angry all the time vents it all in her fuck you book.

ok

#15- Serafina

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Ever since hatching, Serafina wanted one thing and one thing only: to become a magician. Given her lack of extremities with which to grasp a magic wand or handle cards, she became an impressive practitioner of the only trick she could tackle: mesmerism.

Her only trouble, and the one incident that would put an abrupt end to her career, was when she decided to practice in front of a mirror. Despite the attempts of her most skilled masters, Serafina’s never been the same.

15 Akyla Myst Apprentice Magi

| November 15, 2011 | 1 Comment

15 Akyla Myst Apprentice Magi

 

Akyla would rather hang out and chill with her friends at the mall showing off their talents. The magic impaired lower class are amazed and the more disciplined magi frown upon her activities as childish and irresponsible.

#16 Sly Seskimo

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

With hungry eyes on Europe, ‘Sly’ Seskimo has been subtly silencing her opponents at home by blowing them all up. She liked America and she took it, bombs and all… and if a cybernetic frogspawn, dirty cockney and clumsily destructive Swede think they’re going to stake a claim for it, they might find a subtle reminder of her explosive credentials in their own backyards. This war is on.

Posting a little earlier. 🙂

#13 Joshua

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

joshua is a strange character. he lies on a rusting metal bedframe and dirty matress in a dark, rotting room. the room is in a decaying wooden mill on the banks of an underwater stream. to get there you must follow a mineshaft to the bottom.

joshua lies on this bed all day, all night, and does not move. people are searching for him – his sister has come to the underground mill. but she can’t find him, and keeps calling out to him.

and all he hears is a soft dripping of water.

joshua’s based off of a dream i had, and possibly will get a minicomic sometime next october. we’ll see.

#15 Blargowitz

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Day 14 Burner

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Picture

Day 14 Burner for the 30 Characters Challenge!

Thanks for Checkin in!

God Bless,
-Marshall aka Calmplex

Also Find me on Twitter, Facebook,YouTube, and DeviantArt. You can also email me here

#11: BETRIFFT VIERUNDVIERZIG

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

The subject’s full classification is “Betrifft Vierundvierzig” – translated from the German, the classification reads “Subject Forty-Four.”

The staff here, however, just calls…it…’Ziggy.’

It – Ziggy – is the end result of the Grey’s forty-fourth attempt to create a human-alien hybrid.  It stands approximately eight feet tall and is approximately five feet wide.  These numbers are approximates solely because It reacts enthusiastically to the presence of humans, which in turn makes it difficult to obtain precise measurements.

The subject is also covered with a thick fur, unlike anything else seen before.  During drops in temperature, the individual strands of fur increase in density – this effect has also been observed when the subject is in the presence of airborne agents which can damage soft tissue.

The individual strands have also hollowed themselves out when temperatures increase, or when the subject is submerged – this apparently adds buoyancy to the subject, allowing it to float.

In regards to subject demeanor, it has been previously mentioned that the subject becomes enthusiastic around the presence of people, to the degree that a number of staff treat the subject more as a pet than an alien.  It must also be noted, however, that in the presence of The Grey, the demeanor undergoes a severe change, to such a degree as to be considered barbaric.

The level of violence observed in the presence of The Grey, towards The Grey is astounding, and causes one to believe that it harbors great hatred towards those that actually breeded it.

Furthermore, it must also be noted that-

not now

-more study is-

Ziggy I said not now down boy

-required in order to

alright, Ziggy, yes, its playtime now

#15 LE FIN!

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Elfin Rosebloom was a (mostly) ordinary British girl before the start of World War III, she talked like a Brit, she walked like a Brit, she was beyond suspicion in every way… That was until her base programming was activated and she became a deadly French agent, so LE FIN! was born.

Great Britain was soon ravaged by these French cylons as they consolidated power to face the rampaging legions of Turid Dandelion as she rose to power in Europe and to counter the distant threats of Sly Seskimo and El Nicwa.

(The 2nd in the ‘Extremely cute (and very evil) dictators of a fractured future Earth’ Series.)

#10: Morianel

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

She’s from the future – the 23rd Century, to be precise.

She knows exactly how all of this will play out, and she’s prepared us all for this fight:  she’s brought the training, she’s brought the tools, she’s brought everything that the future can afford us.

And yet she always stays off to the side, just a little.  As if she knows something, and she’s afraid to tell us.

After all, she’s from the future.  She knows exactly how this will all play out.

#11: Yasu

| November 15, 2011 | 2 Comments

Missing an arm, doesn’t much slow him down.

Brushes app, iPad.

Finch Greely & Hanzle Duncan

| November 15, 2011 | 2 Comments

FinchFinch Greely was born shortly after the fall of the Gradian colony and grew up in the refugee camps that took shelter deep underground. As part of the Advance Patrol, he volunteered to take part in a scouting mission to vanguard a new home for the Gradian colonists. Finch tends to be quiet and observant, prone to wait for a solution rather than dive in head long.

Unfortunately he was paired with…

HanzleHanzle Duncan. The colony’s top fighter pilot. Brash, impatient, and some what arrogant. Hanzle first thought he was being awarded the job of scouting for a new home world, but soon realized he was being “dumped off”. The truth being the former, but Hanzle insists it’s the later. Fueling this is the polar opposite partner he’s saddled with. Finch. Differences aside, there mission is of utmost importance. The colony is in near squalor, and the Ark ships they live in are becoming over crowded.

#9: The Grey

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

“The Greys…where do I begin with them?

“Okay, remember how at the end of World War Two, Werner von Braun got picked up by the Army, and used to develop our space program?”

“Umm – barely.”

“Yeah, I forgot – you sucked at history.

“Anyway, at the same time that happened, the US also picked up a group of German scientists who working on some private stuff for Hitler – occult stuff.

“They were brought back to the States, and Eisenhower gave them their own little base of operations to work out of.  They were pretty much ignored after that, until LBJ came looking for them – he wanted them to act as advisors on the Vietnam Crisis.

“By that time, things had pretty well changed at that base.  Those people had found some success at what they were working on, but it came at a price:  they had all started to change.  Their hair had started falling out, they were getting shorter, and thekir skin was starting to turn grey.

“Needless to say, Eisenhower took one look at them and ran.

“Finally–”

You mean this story’s ending?”

“…

“Finally, Nixon became President, took one look at them and declared them ‘outdated screwjobs.’  He had their funding compeltely yanked out from under them, and dismissed them from service.

“Once that happened, things actually found a way to go from bad to worse.”

Wait, ho–“

“By this time, they had decided that they’d had enough of dealing with Presidents, and tried to bring back Hitler.”

Okay, now you’re shitting me; how in the hel–“

“Annnnyway, they weren’t able to bring him back, but they did somehow actually managed to open a hole in space.

“…

“What, no smart-ass comment or something?”

Nah, I figure at this point, I should just wait for you ti finish, and get it all out in one shot.”

“Well, the energy from that sort of pushed them along, and finished changing them into what they are now.”

And that is?”

“You know how people who claim that they’ve seen aliens, and that they all look the same?  That’s these guys – the scientists.  All the energy and everything shrank them a little, fused fingers together, fucked up their eyes and all.

“They were changed into those little grey creatures everyone keeps talking about.  That’s why we call them ‘The Grey’.

“Any questions?”

Yeah…

Did you come up with all of this on your own, or did everyone in the next room sort of help you put it all together?”

No 15 – 16

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

#8: Stone Man

| November 15, 2011 | 0 Comments

Phillip Line died ten years ago, and yet here he stands, encased in stone. 

His death was predicted and prepared for by his predecessor, who saw him in a dream.  The ancient magics and softened clays were readied to absorb what was left of him as died.  As the one who came before him hummed the incantation in a mouth that could not move, white lights flowed around, moving the soft tissues and fragments of bones into the cold embrance of rock and clay.

He is now a Golem.

Possessing his own memories, as well as that of his predecssors, he understands and quickly masters the magic that surrounds him, allowing him to adapt and survive in any circumstance.  Through technology, he is able to disguise both his massive stone frame and the weight that comes with it, allowing him to look as he once did and move somewhat freely through our world.

As a golem, he works with others, protecting this world from continued attacks by The Grey.  But he has suffered greatly, for lately, he has begun dreaming of a new Golem…