Jadesteele
Out of my Mind - Back in 5 Minutes
- Location
- half-way between 'Crazy' And 'Eccentric'
Happy welcome to earth day!
Scaling Up
- Thread starter Kryslin
- Start date
Dragons in 3D
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
As some of you know, I'm an Amateur 3D modler and technical artist (TL;DR - I make models, animate them, and give them hair and fur.).
Anyway, I called in a favor from an friend who's an artist (Kathryn Garrison-Kellogg, writer/artist of the wbecomic Carry On) and she produced some reference art for me. After a week, I've got enough to share... (and yes, I'm an Incorrigible Show-Off.)
Top View
Bottom View
Yes, it's a 3D Naurelin. I've got a couple of major parts left (arms & legs) and some minor parts & details to go before rigging and posing starts. I've even got ruins for my backdrop / lightprobe image!
So there ya go. Scaling Up continues this Saturday, so be of good cheer!
Anyway, I called in a favor from an friend who's an artist (Kathryn Garrison-Kellogg, writer/artist of the wbecomic Carry On) and she produced some reference art for me. After a week, I've got enough to share... (and yes, I'm an Incorrigible Show-Off.)
Top View
Bottom View
Yes, it's a 3D Naurelin. I've got a couple of major parts left (arms & legs) and some minor parts & details to go before rigging and posing starts. I've even got ruins for my backdrop / lightprobe image!
So there ya go. Scaling Up continues this Saturday, so be of good cheer!
Much as straight fire lizards would be apropos, Our Lady of Dragons McCaffrey would probably be better as a second edition Faerie Dragon
None of that make them weaken crud that they did in later editions
Parque no Los dos
USRTS
(Unverified Cracker)
- Location
- Somewhere in the Milky Way Galaxy
- Pronouns
- Dont/Give/A/Damn
That was a given.
Dragons in 3D, part II
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Here we go again, 4 renders out of my WIP scene. Box and Ball are for scale, each being 1m across.
I've got a few details to finish up, like eyelids, nostrils, frills/fins and nostrils. Also, the eyes should be less creepy soon.
Enjoy, and I should be back around after 4 to post tonight's chapter.
Vulpine Fury
in socks
Huh. So Naurelin is about the same size as Minecraft's Ender Dragon. Neat.
- Location
- Illinois
I dunno. For some reason, with all of these images, it feels like she's TOO golden. Wasn't Naurelin a gold/red hybrid?
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Texturing i s one of the last things I work on, and yes, she's supposed to be a rose gold color, perhaps closer to red gold.
White gold is right out, though. Don't want no Lord Foul et alia around here... too many fantasy stories are mashing together here right now.
Tangent
Crazy-Big Ideas!
- Location
- Pensylvania, United States
Could be a Black Gold dragon!
"Elly May! You go release that overgrown lizard into the woods right this moment! We ain't got no room in the house for that thing!"
"But Granny!"
"Don't you 'but Granny' me, young lady! Now git that winged iquanna outa here!"
"Elly May! You go release that overgrown lizard into the woods right this moment! We ain't got no room in the house for that thing!"
"But Granny!"
"Don't you 'but Granny' me, young lady! Now git that winged iquanna outa here!"
Shenanigans 23 - Nonsense III
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
"Ya know, I'm gonna miss the place," Dennis said. It was their final day at the resort, and most of the teens were relaxing in the central building.
"It's been interesting," Missy allowed. "Got to play with portals for a bit." Left unsaid was the fact that she now had so many ideas she wanted to try. And paperwork to fill out.
"Learned a fair bit about something I'd never thought I would," Amy admitted. "Should come in handy the next time I've got a lot of minor injuries to deal with."
"I got to spend some time with Dean," Vicky added to the conversation. She smiled and carefully snuggled into her boyfriend.
"I found out that I can walk on water," Dinah said in between bites of her sandwich. "Without Powers," she said when Takara was about to agree. "Managed to re-learn how to swim normally, too."
"I found 'The list of things Takara is not allowed to do anymore' that Assault had been keeping," Takara giggled. "I'll have to see if I can add more to it."
"Please don't," Aegis said with a sigh. "Or at least wait until after I've moved into the Protectorate. Anyway, we still need to decide on who becomes the leader of the Wards, Dennis or Dean." At the looks Dinah and Takara were giving him, he continued. "Wards leadership is determined by age, not seniority. That comes from the office of Legend and has a long document explaining why. Otherwise, yes, Missy would be Wards leader, since she's got more time in than the rest of us."
Missy nodded. "However, if I had to deal with any more of Triumph's attitude about me being a little girl…" she growled. There was the menace of the unspoken threat. Missy might be short, but her powers allowed her to punch beyond her reach, and more importantly, from outside of her opponent's reach.
Dinah nodded sagely. "Yeah, he can be a doofus sometimes. He means well, though."
"Anyway," Carlos interjected, "former Wards leader shortcomings aside, one of the things we're supposed to be doing before we leave is coming up with our recommendation of who becomes the next Wards leader – Gallant or Clockblocker?
"Given that whoever you pick will only hold the position for a couple of months, it then falls onto Taylor's shoulders, unless another Ward older than her joins up."
"So that means that it's basically up to us," Taylor said, gesturing to Missy, Chris, Takara, Dinah, and herself, "to figure out who we want to deal with for three months. A very tough choice."
"I've seen how both of them write their reports, " Missy said. "Both are detailed, but in different ways. Dean writes way too much about the emotional states of people, while Dennis, when he remembers to write his reports, buries the reader in too many details."
"Actually," Dean said, "I would prefer if Dennis took over the top spot. While I am just a slight bit older, I have a problem dealing with PRT paperwork, and as you said, I tend to focus on the cues my Power feeds me." He took a drink of the soda he had. "And yes, I've been told that without physical evidence to back it up, what my Power picks up is circumstantial evidence at best, and quite possibly illegal recording if it isn't happening in a public space."
"Well, I'll take the job if no one else wants it," Dennis said. "On the plus side, it'll be for only a couple of months. On the downside, paperwork and it'll be a couple of months that Director Rennick and Armsmaster will have to deal with me, and I don't know if the lot of us can handle each other."
"Then it's Taylor's turn to be king!" Takara shouted with glee.
"Err, no," Taylor said, giving Takara a look. "I won't be king, not by a long shot. Gender aside, I'd be in charge of you," she continued, gesturing at Missy, Dinah, and Takara, "and Chris. Plus anyone else we get afterwards."
"What're the odds we'll get anyone else, though?" Chris asked, then realized what he'd done.
"Eighty-seven percent likely," Dinah answered, then sighed. She reached into a pannier and pulled out a spray bottle. "Bad Chris, bad!" she said as she squirted him a couple of times.
"Sorry, wasn't intentional," he apologized as he tried to defend himself from the watery assault.
"Should we do the usual rampant speculation on who we're going to get?" Dean asked. "Most of us are teenagers, after all."
"Don't know who'd be going through a Trigger event," Taylor mused. "I know enough not to ask our local Thinkers–"
"And they thank you," both Dinah and Samira (who had just walked past the door) said.
"–about them because they can't predict them. Triggers are a classic blind spot for every Thinker," Taylor finished.
"So speculation it is!" Dennis exclaimed with a grin. "Considering how mythical things have been showing up, I nominate a shapeshifting lizard-demon…"
"So, find your stuff yet?"
Sherrel looked up at the speaker. "No, Ethan, I haven't. And I'm sorry for assuming you were the one responsible."
"Eh, no biggy," he replied. "Like I would do something so crude as to steal a lady's bras and tops. My wife would kill me."
"Still, I wonder who did it?"
"Excuse me, Ms. Bailey?" Sonny Aleshin asked.
"Yeah?"
"I have something for you." With that, he handed over a bag containing Sherrel's missing belongings, freshly laundered.
"Where? Who?"
"Kira found them in the woods not far from here," he explained. "She impressed upon the thieves that doing so again would make her upset, which would not be good for them. They returned the misappropriated garments, and Kira cleaned them and gave them to me to return to you." There was a stifled giggle from somewhere in the room, which caused Sonny to sigh. "Wildflower, what did Kira tell you about this?"
Something completely unfamiliar appeared out of nowhere to flutter on butterfly-like wings and land on Sonny's left shoulder. "The grumpy biggun said not to bother the two legs," the thing said in a rather squeaky voice. "But she wasn't using them!"
"I see we're going to have to work on the idea of personal property," Sonny sighed, rubbing his nose. "Miss Bailey, this is Wildflower, one of the local faerie dragons. Wildflower, Sherrel Bailey."
The little creature jumped down to the table and sketched a four-legged (and two-winged) curtsy to her. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," Wildflower said in her squeaky voice. It then cast a greedy eye towards a couple of donuts. "May I have one?" it asked, suddenly developing puppy dog eyes and a pleading expression.
"Yeah, sure," Sherrel responded. She watched as the creature inhaled the donut, which was larger than its head. "Mmmmmm!" Wildflower said while licking her lips of the raspberry filling. "Thank you very much. We're sorry about taking your stuff." Again it sketched a bow before fluttering into the air and disappearing out a window with a cheerful "Buhbye!"
"Care to explain what that was?" Sherrel asked Sonny.
"As I said, that was a faerie dragon, a small, dragon-like creature that likes sweets and pastries and likes to make mischief," Sonny explained. "They're not malicious, they just like to push buttons and see what happens. They can be aggravating, but for the most part, they just want to have a laugh or two. There is no good way to avoid them; if you take their pranks in good humor, you'll get more minor ones, and if you take offense at them, they'll just get more extreme. Making enemies of them gets – very strange."
"I think I'm lacking some critical information," Sherrel muttered as she finished drinking her coffee. "That sounds like some kind of creature from a fantasy game or something. Then again…" She fell silent, shook her head, and then grabbed the bag and got up. "Gotta go see what Cid's got for me this morning. Probably clean up of the work hangar before we leave."
"Will someone please explain to me what just happened?" Ethan asked.
"I think your typical explanation for Powers related quirks would suffice," Sonny offered. "Except add magic. Or Fae."
"That works," he replied. "Time to go clean up the cabin and annoy the wife."
Brockton Bay
Off the Boardwalk.
Fuck! Greg Veder swore to himself.
"Open mouth, insert both feet," he muttered as he ran away from some trouble he had created. "Yep, that's the story of my life."
Ever since he'd started school at Winslow – now an ex-school – certain gang members had been shaking him down for his medication. He was on some exceptionally strong stuff, which also had other, unprescribed recreational uses.
You could see when he was on and off his meds in his PHO postings. Some days he was insightful and polite, and later in the week he was off his rocker and calling down the wrath of the moderators.
Unfortunately, with the demise of the major gangs, minor ones had taken their place. As he continued to run from the gang bangers, he grimly noted to himself that he'd been banned by every moderator on PHO, from the local mods all the way up to Tin Mother herself. He looked behind him at his pursuers. They'd stopped, but were chatting on a phone.
Well, damn, he thought. Can't outrun radio waves.
He wished he could send a message to his few friends, Winged_One and G-StringGirl, and ask them what to do.
There was an incoming text ring from his phone. He ducked into an alleyway. "Don't duck into this alleyway," he read, "but the next one."
What the hell?
Again, the incoming message tone. "Nope, just Powers bullshit."
He put his phone away, ducked out of the alleyway, and ran for all he was worth for the next one. He was spotted by his pursuers.
Greg was not in good physical condition, but better than most of his generation who weren't jocks or capes. However, the gangers chasing him were in even better physical condition, and would eventually outlast him and run him down.
Then beat him to within an inch of his life for not handing over his meds (which he didn't have on him), then when they got insistent and he'd caught his second wind, kneeing the goon's nuts into his torso and running for his life. No destination in mind, just so long as it was away from the gang members. It might even get him somewhere safe.
He made the alley without incident, though he was pretty sure they'd seen where he'd ducked into it. He made his way down the alley and hunkered down behind a dumpster. There had been no more enigmatic messages from Winged_One on his phone.
Now what?
"Psst! You there, mortal – do you seek power?"
"Who said that?"
"I did. Do you seek power?"
"I think I'll take my chances with the goons."
"Aw, come on. Just a little power?"
"I know how this goes. You offer me power," Greg whispered, "I accept, the immediate problem gets taken care of, and then I'm dragged down to Hell, Tartarus, Hades or whatever to suffer for an eternity."
"Nope, not one of the Hellcrew." The voice sighed. "Look, I need help as much as you do: You need someone to take care of your immediate problem, and I need someone to act as a link to the mortal realm.
"Even a temporary agreement solves both our immediate problems," the disembodied voice finished. "They're getting closer."
"I am so going to regret this," Greg muttered to himself. "OK, a temporary agreement. I help you, you help me, and we revisit this in a month?"
"Agreed," the voice said. "Gregory Alan Veder, know that I am the last remnant of Garyx, draconic god of destruction and renewal."
"Hey, hey, hey," a voice sneered from the entrance of the alley. "I know you're in there, Veder. Come on out and it will be less painful than if we have to come in there."
Shall I handle this? Garyx's words were clear in his mind as if he had spoken them.
Don't kill them, Greg thought back. They haven't done anything to deserve that.
A shame, It would solve the problem permanently.
And end our partnership permanently, Greg answered. Humiliation, destroying their reputation, that's acceptable.
Ah, subtlety, Garyx's voice chuckled. I have an idea… With that, Garyx described what he was going to do. Greg almost laughed aloud.
When the gang members entered the alleyway to go and drag Greg out, there was a blast of flames the likes of which hadn't been seen since the launch of the last Apollo Moon mission at NASA. Despite the flames, nothing seemed to be burning.
The fire had attracted the attention of the BBPD, FDBB, and the PRT, all of whom had a squad, truck, or van there before the flames died down.
Cautiously, they all looked down the alleyway. All the detritus that had accumulated was gone, reduced to nothing by the flames. The alleyway itself was scoured clean, and was in pristine condition. Not more than ten feet from the entrance were the four gang members, unconscious, with nothing left of their clothes except for their briefs, and nothing left of any weapon they'd been carrying. And no sign of an intended victim.
The police officer turned to his PRT counterpart. "Cape?"
The PRT officer nodded. "Cape."
"It's been interesting," Missy allowed. "Got to play with portals for a bit." Left unsaid was the fact that she now had so many ideas she wanted to try. And paperwork to fill out.
"Learned a fair bit about something I'd never thought I would," Amy admitted. "Should come in handy the next time I've got a lot of minor injuries to deal with."
"I got to spend some time with Dean," Vicky added to the conversation. She smiled and carefully snuggled into her boyfriend.
"I found out that I can walk on water," Dinah said in between bites of her sandwich. "Without Powers," she said when Takara was about to agree. "Managed to re-learn how to swim normally, too."
"I found 'The list of things Takara is not allowed to do anymore' that Assault had been keeping," Takara giggled. "I'll have to see if I can add more to it."
"Please don't," Aegis said with a sigh. "Or at least wait until after I've moved into the Protectorate. Anyway, we still need to decide on who becomes the leader of the Wards, Dennis or Dean." At the looks Dinah and Takara were giving him, he continued. "Wards leadership is determined by age, not seniority. That comes from the office of Legend and has a long document explaining why. Otherwise, yes, Missy would be Wards leader, since she's got more time in than the rest of us."
Missy nodded. "However, if I had to deal with any more of Triumph's attitude about me being a little girl…" she growled. There was the menace of the unspoken threat. Missy might be short, but her powers allowed her to punch beyond her reach, and more importantly, from outside of her opponent's reach.
Dinah nodded sagely. "Yeah, he can be a doofus sometimes. He means well, though."
"Anyway," Carlos interjected, "former Wards leader shortcomings aside, one of the things we're supposed to be doing before we leave is coming up with our recommendation of who becomes the next Wards leader – Gallant or Clockblocker?
"Given that whoever you pick will only hold the position for a couple of months, it then falls onto Taylor's shoulders, unless another Ward older than her joins up."
"So that means that it's basically up to us," Taylor said, gesturing to Missy, Chris, Takara, Dinah, and herself, "to figure out who we want to deal with for three months. A very tough choice."
"I've seen how both of them write their reports, " Missy said. "Both are detailed, but in different ways. Dean writes way too much about the emotional states of people, while Dennis, when he remembers to write his reports, buries the reader in too many details."
"Actually," Dean said, "I would prefer if Dennis took over the top spot. While I am just a slight bit older, I have a problem dealing with PRT paperwork, and as you said, I tend to focus on the cues my Power feeds me." He took a drink of the soda he had. "And yes, I've been told that without physical evidence to back it up, what my Power picks up is circumstantial evidence at best, and quite possibly illegal recording if it isn't happening in a public space."
"Well, I'll take the job if no one else wants it," Dennis said. "On the plus side, it'll be for only a couple of months. On the downside, paperwork and it'll be a couple of months that Director Rennick and Armsmaster will have to deal with me, and I don't know if the lot of us can handle each other."
"Then it's Taylor's turn to be king!" Takara shouted with glee.
"Err, no," Taylor said, giving Takara a look. "I won't be king, not by a long shot. Gender aside, I'd be in charge of you," she continued, gesturing at Missy, Dinah, and Takara, "and Chris. Plus anyone else we get afterwards."
"What're the odds we'll get anyone else, though?" Chris asked, then realized what he'd done.
"Eighty-seven percent likely," Dinah answered, then sighed. She reached into a pannier and pulled out a spray bottle. "Bad Chris, bad!" she said as she squirted him a couple of times.
"Sorry, wasn't intentional," he apologized as he tried to defend himself from the watery assault.
"Should we do the usual rampant speculation on who we're going to get?" Dean asked. "Most of us are teenagers, after all."
"Don't know who'd be going through a Trigger event," Taylor mused. "I know enough not to ask our local Thinkers–"
"And they thank you," both Dinah and Samira (who had just walked past the door) said.
"–about them because they can't predict them. Triggers are a classic blind spot for every Thinker," Taylor finished.
"So speculation it is!" Dennis exclaimed with a grin. "Considering how mythical things have been showing up, I nominate a shapeshifting lizard-demon…"
- - - - - - - - - -
"So, find your stuff yet?"
Sherrel looked up at the speaker. "No, Ethan, I haven't. And I'm sorry for assuming you were the one responsible."
"Eh, no biggy," he replied. "Like I would do something so crude as to steal a lady's bras and tops. My wife would kill me."
"Still, I wonder who did it?"
"Excuse me, Ms. Bailey?" Sonny Aleshin asked.
"Yeah?"
"I have something for you." With that, he handed over a bag containing Sherrel's missing belongings, freshly laundered.
"Where? Who?"
"Kira found them in the woods not far from here," he explained. "She impressed upon the thieves that doing so again would make her upset, which would not be good for them. They returned the misappropriated garments, and Kira cleaned them and gave them to me to return to you." There was a stifled giggle from somewhere in the room, which caused Sonny to sigh. "Wildflower, what did Kira tell you about this?"
Something completely unfamiliar appeared out of nowhere to flutter on butterfly-like wings and land on Sonny's left shoulder. "The grumpy biggun said not to bother the two legs," the thing said in a rather squeaky voice. "But she wasn't using them!"
"I see we're going to have to work on the idea of personal property," Sonny sighed, rubbing his nose. "Miss Bailey, this is Wildflower, one of the local faerie dragons. Wildflower, Sherrel Bailey."
The little creature jumped down to the table and sketched a four-legged (and two-winged) curtsy to her. "Pleased to make your acquaintance," Wildflower said in her squeaky voice. It then cast a greedy eye towards a couple of donuts. "May I have one?" it asked, suddenly developing puppy dog eyes and a pleading expression.
"Yeah, sure," Sherrel responded. She watched as the creature inhaled the donut, which was larger than its head. "Mmmmmm!" Wildflower said while licking her lips of the raspberry filling. "Thank you very much. We're sorry about taking your stuff." Again it sketched a bow before fluttering into the air and disappearing out a window with a cheerful "Buhbye!"
"Care to explain what that was?" Sherrel asked Sonny.
"As I said, that was a faerie dragon, a small, dragon-like creature that likes sweets and pastries and likes to make mischief," Sonny explained. "They're not malicious, they just like to push buttons and see what happens. They can be aggravating, but for the most part, they just want to have a laugh or two. There is no good way to avoid them; if you take their pranks in good humor, you'll get more minor ones, and if you take offense at them, they'll just get more extreme. Making enemies of them gets – very strange."
"I think I'm lacking some critical information," Sherrel muttered as she finished drinking her coffee. "That sounds like some kind of creature from a fantasy game or something. Then again…" She fell silent, shook her head, and then grabbed the bag and got up. "Gotta go see what Cid's got for me this morning. Probably clean up of the work hangar before we leave."
"Will someone please explain to me what just happened?" Ethan asked.
"I think your typical explanation for Powers related quirks would suffice," Sonny offered. "Except add magic. Or Fae."
"That works," he replied. "Time to go clean up the cabin and annoy the wife."
- - - - - - - - - -
Brockton Bay
Off the Boardwalk.
Fuck! Greg Veder swore to himself.
"Open mouth, insert both feet," he muttered as he ran away from some trouble he had created. "Yep, that's the story of my life."
Ever since he'd started school at Winslow – now an ex-school – certain gang members had been shaking him down for his medication. He was on some exceptionally strong stuff, which also had other, unprescribed recreational uses.
You could see when he was on and off his meds in his PHO postings. Some days he was insightful and polite, and later in the week he was off his rocker and calling down the wrath of the moderators.
Unfortunately, with the demise of the major gangs, minor ones had taken their place. As he continued to run from the gang bangers, he grimly noted to himself that he'd been banned by every moderator on PHO, from the local mods all the way up to Tin Mother herself. He looked behind him at his pursuers. They'd stopped, but were chatting on a phone.
Well, damn, he thought. Can't outrun radio waves.
He wished he could send a message to his few friends, Winged_One and G-StringGirl, and ask them what to do.
There was an incoming text ring from his phone. He ducked into an alleyway. "Don't duck into this alleyway," he read, "but the next one."
What the hell?
Again, the incoming message tone. "Nope, just Powers bullshit."
He put his phone away, ducked out of the alleyway, and ran for all he was worth for the next one. He was spotted by his pursuers.
Greg was not in good physical condition, but better than most of his generation who weren't jocks or capes. However, the gangers chasing him were in even better physical condition, and would eventually outlast him and run him down.
Then beat him to within an inch of his life for not handing over his meds (which he didn't have on him), then when they got insistent and he'd caught his second wind, kneeing the goon's nuts into his torso and running for his life. No destination in mind, just so long as it was away from the gang members. It might even get him somewhere safe.
He made the alley without incident, though he was pretty sure they'd seen where he'd ducked into it. He made his way down the alley and hunkered down behind a dumpster. There had been no more enigmatic messages from Winged_One on his phone.
Now what?
"Psst! You there, mortal – do you seek power?"
"Who said that?"
"I did. Do you seek power?"
"I think I'll take my chances with the goons."
"Aw, come on. Just a little power?"
"I know how this goes. You offer me power," Greg whispered, "I accept, the immediate problem gets taken care of, and then I'm dragged down to Hell, Tartarus, Hades or whatever to suffer for an eternity."
"Nope, not one of the Hellcrew." The voice sighed. "Look, I need help as much as you do: You need someone to take care of your immediate problem, and I need someone to act as a link to the mortal realm.
"Even a temporary agreement solves both our immediate problems," the disembodied voice finished. "They're getting closer."
"I am so going to regret this," Greg muttered to himself. "OK, a temporary agreement. I help you, you help me, and we revisit this in a month?"
"Agreed," the voice said. "Gregory Alan Veder, know that I am the last remnant of Garyx, draconic god of destruction and renewal."
"Hey, hey, hey," a voice sneered from the entrance of the alley. "I know you're in there, Veder. Come on out and it will be less painful than if we have to come in there."
Shall I handle this? Garyx's words were clear in his mind as if he had spoken them.
Don't kill them, Greg thought back. They haven't done anything to deserve that.
A shame, It would solve the problem permanently.
And end our partnership permanently, Greg answered. Humiliation, destroying their reputation, that's acceptable.
Ah, subtlety, Garyx's voice chuckled. I have an idea… With that, Garyx described what he was going to do. Greg almost laughed aloud.
When the gang members entered the alleyway to go and drag Greg out, there was a blast of flames the likes of which hadn't been seen since the launch of the last Apollo Moon mission at NASA. Despite the flames, nothing seemed to be burning.
The fire had attracted the attention of the BBPD, FDBB, and the PRT, all of whom had a squad, truck, or van there before the flames died down.
Cautiously, they all looked down the alleyway. All the detritus that had accumulated was gone, reduced to nothing by the flames. The alleyway itself was scoured clean, and was in pristine condition. Not more than ten feet from the entrance were the four gang members, unconscious, with nothing left of their clothes except for their briefs, and nothing left of any weapon they'd been carrying. And no sign of an intended victim.
The police officer turned to his PRT counterpart. "Cape?"
The PRT officer nodded. "Cape."
Last edited:
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Wordz™ have been authored, and the post is up.
Edits by Jwizard39, Archeo Lumiere, and McClaw @ the CTC.
Read, enjoy, offer praise / critique / flame author, and I'll be back later to read through things.
However, I must do the food preparation thing, I'm grillin' hamburgers on this beautiful October day in SW Iowa.
Edits by Jwizard39, Archeo Lumiere, and McClaw @ the CTC.
Read, enjoy, offer praise / critique / flame author, and I'll be back later to read through things.
However, I must do the food preparation thing, I'm grillin' hamburgers on this beautiful October day in SW Iowa.
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
Damn it Greg, you gotta know that a month was too long, hell any agreement was too long, someone like that, its worse than bloody drugs man
Ok, so a few things in this one...
a) Someone tell Clock that the proposed 'Cape' already exists a few dimensions over to the right and is eagerly watching their antics.
b) of all the things to show up, it is the fae that is a dragon (or is it the dragon that is a fae?). I smell incomming pranks galore, what with having fed them.
c) Of course Greg is on meds. Explains why he seems to be so disjointed online at least. And of course the idiots at Winslow decided that prescription meds were ment for abuse, not medical reasons and stole them. Makes sense to me...
d) Now taking bets on how long it will take for Greg to regret making that Deal. Current estimate: 5 hours and below.
Honestly, with that portfolio, any deal is a bad deal, no matter how short...
a) Someone tell Clock that the proposed 'Cape' already exists a few dimensions over to the right and is eagerly watching their antics.
b) of all the things to show up, it is the fae that is a dragon (or is it the dragon that is a fae?). I smell incomming pranks galore, what with having fed them.
c) Of course Greg is on meds. Explains why he seems to be so disjointed online at least. And of course the idiots at Winslow decided that prescription meds were ment for abuse, not medical reasons and stole them. Makes sense to me...
d) Now taking bets on how long it will take for Greg to regret making that Deal. Current estimate: 5 hours and below.
Honestly, with that portfolio, any deal is a bad deal, no matter how short...
Wow, this is a nice surprise. Not only do we get an insight into why Greg is the way he is on PHO, but he's now part of the main plot, which I've never seen before. I'm looking forward to seeing what happens between him, Garyx (Gary Gygax?!?!), and the rest of the magical crew.
- Location
- I am located here.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
Yay! It seems like the story is moving from shenanigany interludes towards a new story arc
- Location
- Scotland
With even MORE shenanigans, of course. The exact type of shenanigans is yet to be determined but there's bound to be enough to keep everyone not directly involved entertained.Yay! It seems like the story is moving from shenanigany interludes towards a new story arc
As for Greg regretting the deal in under 5 hours, my money would be on less than 30 minutes. Garyx will likely be an ongoing headache for Greg who will presumably have to keep reigning in Garyx's destructive tendencies or else lots of things are gonna be destroyed in short order. Finally, on the topic of Greg becoming a main character I've seen it before, specifically in The Warcrafter.
Thanks for the info and the link, Forger. Would you recommend that story for reading?
Garreon
Paldean Top Champion
- Location
- Mesagoza, Paldea
Great, great story. Very well written....pity RH updates like....thrice a year...and that is if we are lucky.....and only one chapter for 3 of his stories.
I really need the next chapter of Warcrafter to see how they end up dealing with Tagg.....or another chapter of the Sequel to The Warcrafted, which is Deku The Warcrafted. This sequel doesn't really spoil the first story, so you can read it in parallel to The Warcrafted.
Great chapter and on the topic of Garyx.....i mean, not all destruction is bad....even if the God is chaotic evil, Greg isn't. Wouldn't surprise me if he ends up as a dragon and having to act as Garyx's heir. Besides, Tiamat is now Chaotic Neutral at best, she and bahamut can reign their little brother in.
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- Location
- Illinois
There's also @Ack's Taylor Hebert, Medhall Intern, which, amongst other things, includes Greg clocking Sophia with a fire extinguisher and knocking her the heck out.
Thanks for the link, Keldin. Looks like I have a bunch of new reading to do.
- Location
- The Old Dominion
Nathair, child of IO and the god of Fairy Dragons and Pseudodragons and worshiped as well by sprites as well receiving worship from more mischievous elves.
The one apparently too silly for even Titania and Oberon to handle they only let him stay in the outer circle of the Seelie court... Yeah, I'd fully believe that Faluzure failed to kill him though likely not for lack of trying but only getting repeatedly pranked for his trouble.
So, the Dragons have two prankster gods, Hlal and Nathair? Geez, the other pantheons must feel sorry for them.