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 Posted: Sun May 30, 2010 8:51 pm
Well was seeing how many steampunk fans in this guild are artists/creative's of some sort.
Was thinking that perhaps a monthly challenge for all art forms might be something fun to do. Including writers, artists, sculpters, fashion designers, trinkets etc.
What do you think?
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Posted: Mon May 31, 2010 12:11 am
That could quite possibly be fun 3nodding .
It could be a good way to get some of us to stop being lazy, artistically speaking. It also has potential for getting members to be more active. What do you think, Nack?
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Silvermoonfall Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon May 31, 2010 8:34 am
Sounds like a great way to get more activity going on around here. biggrin
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Posted: Mon May 31, 2010 12:31 pm
Sounds like fun I am in, I have a few projects I am working on.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 8:14 am
What kind of projects/themes do you think would be fun to work with so we can start creating some ideas to have stock piled for future use :3
Perhaps Airships, gears, Wild West Steam Punk, Your avatar, Engineer and their work etc.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:40 am
Im not quite the 3D Modellor I want to be, but I am an animator and a pretty good editor and cinematographer....
I'd love to see a Steampunk Webseries in the future, but the budget would be an issue...
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:25 pm
Yeah! Sounds like fun! some ideas could be weaponry, pocket watches, accessories, misc stuff, limbs lol
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:32 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 05, 2010 6:27 pm
updated the steampunk art forum with a new thread with the first contest theme :3 5k prize :3
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Posted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 12:51 pm
Arrowroot Well was seeing how many steampunk fans in this guild are artists/creative's of some sort. Was thinking that perhaps a monthly challenge for all art forms might be something fun to do. Including writers, artists, sculpters, fashion designers, trinkets etc. What do you think? I'm an author... and not a bad artist. confused
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Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2010 2:42 pm
I'm more of a writer, but it sounds like fun.
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 12:36 pm
You know what? I'll try and boot Nack to the head next time I see him, and figure out what the heck is going on. He should be here with us a llittle more often than he is.... But then again, I guess I can't complain too much. I am lazy! Not so good with the steampunk art though. I'm stilll working on normal art personally.
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 1:58 pm
What, Steampunk isn't normal? xD
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 2:29 pm
...but one of my works, which is not finished yet:
Prolouge
11:57 PM, January 23, 1653. The night was cold and dark... not a soul stirred. Among the sands of the great desert, a cabin neverendingly exhaled a plume of smoke into the slowly darkening sky. All that could be heard was the crackle of the fire and the gentle breathing of a sleeping boy on his birthday. ...Until something went bump in the night. His heart lurched as he was jerked into consiousness. He was slightly confused at his awakening, but he knew that he had heard something. Then his heart lurched again, as if his very soul were trying to break free. He tried to relax, but the third lurch was so powerful that he rolled out of bed.
He fell to the floor and pain erupted into his side. Then his heart lurched yet again. Then five, six, seven times. More and more powerful with every thud. The eighth was so powerful his entire body lifted off of the floor. Nine, ten, eleven... Silence. It was a minute until midnight, the exact moment he had been born 12 years before, when the twelth came. A dark smog came over the room as the pain faded away, as if he was exhaling it. The cloud seemed to condense into a small ball of dark energy in the middle of the room... Then it received color. It was every color one could think of... Except for white.
His brother, mother, and father came rushing in. The first thing they saw was the mortified look on his face and the second was the ball. It had, by now, condensed so much that it turned solid and fell to the floor. A narrow line appeared, then buldged slighly. It opened to reveal an eye. A very evil eye that mortified even the man of the house. They stared into it. The ball gained several more buldges, which became limbs. Even with all the occurances surrounding the eye, it was all they could focus on. Their minds wandered until the boy's slightly older and taller brother remembered the ring on his finger. He ran up to the monster and uppercut it with all his might, blowing it messily through the ceiling.
“Are you all right, Miles?” He asked. Miles, the boy on the floor, looked away.
“Aye. Thank you, Kit.” Miles accepted a hand up before he continued. “That thing came out of me... whatever it is. Good job getting rid of it, but it's just going to--” The wall blew inward as the beast, now much larger, tackled the house. The impact, being as it was so sudden, loud, and forceful on the entire environment, knocked him out.
As he regained consiousness, Miles noticed that it had become much, much darker. He laid there until the sun came over the horizon. It was dawn. He stood. He had a throbbing pain throughout his body and his house was in ruins. The beast hadn't rammed the house, it landed on it. He couldn't imagine how Kit had blown it straight upward, but he decided to not devote thought to it. Since the impact, it had rolled over, several pieces of debris stuck harmlessly out of its frontside. Miles cursed under his breath and started picking through the rubble for his family. Piece after piece, memory after memory, he quickly discovered his parents were dead. His brother, however was only unconsious with a couple of cuts. He threw himself down on what was left of his bed as tears failingly tried to surface.
As soon as the wave was supressed, Miles felt a hand on his back. He looked up to see a now consious Kit. “They're dead,” Miles said.
“I know,” Kit said, “but the best thing we can do right now is avenge them. We have to kill that beast before he k--” He was cut off as the moster gave a waking roar. Any sadness, any longing for the loving presence of their parents, was immediately replaced by a thick hatred for their killer in both of them. Miles looked down the length of his arm upon standing. The ring he had received not 12 hours before was his only hope of survival. It glowed as his lethal glance turned toward the beast. Such powers normally required massive amounts of thought, but he was consumed by emotion. It did not seem possible that his parents were dead... but it was fact. Anything was possible at this point.
Kit flashed a glance at the glowing ring. “Miles... don't.” He said, looking back at the beast. It was too late, though. Miles closed his eyes as his arms and legs were coated in a shiny metal, forming some sort of power boots and gauntlets. Energy rooted out of under the boots, and he quickly flew off the ground. The fingers of the right gauntlet formed a fist as he flew twoard the beast. His fist collided with the monster with so much momentum that Miles could fell its skull implode and it fell down... It stood right back up, though. Realizing it could be harmed, the beast retreated. Kit used his powers to leap into the beast back, which cracked two or three of its vertebrae, but alerted the beast to the presence of yet another, but more simply dealed with threat. It reached around, grabbed Kit, and threw him so far that his body left sight before it landed. It turned and ran twoard town immediately after he left its hand.
Miles looked off into the direction his brother had been thrown. His entire family was dead, and simply because he had made it to twelve years old. He sat down and considered the events. Loss of emotional control invariably led to disaster, so there was no way he could handle this situation without gathering himself. One way or another, he needed to kill that thing, and thoughtlessly created armor was not going to take care of that. He needed a weapon. Maybe if he could cut a big enough hole in its heart, he could kill it. He looked at the escaping and now much smaller monster. I don't have much time... That'll take out the whole town if I don't take it out first, He thought. Either he needed a projectile or a beam of energy. A rifle or a laser... But the projectle would need to big and sharp... and the laser would need to be incredibly powerful...
He sat there for an hour thinking of how to focus a laser or throwing something really big and sharp. Then he got it. He looked into the sky as his vision went red. He took off his new technology, and observed it to be a sort of targeting visor with a laser built in. Exactly how he had imagined it. He stood, and, as the energy branched out from his feet once again, replaced the visor. He lifted off and flew twoard the town.
By the time Miles arrived, six people had gotten too close to the beast already. Miles landed behind a building and took all of his armor but the visor off so that the beast would think he was no longer a threat. He walked into the beast sight as he took out 2 more people with one swing. It spotted him and observed him while he targeted. After it was sure his lethality was gone, it took a couple steps, and Miles took the shot. The energy burned cleanly through its skin, muscle, ribs, and then heart. As soon as they had both comprehended what had just happened, the being fell down.
Miles removed the visor, threw it to the ground, and walked over to inspect the body. It was not quite dead, though, and with its last energy, it released an evil screech that sounded like, “Miles, we will meet again!” It vaporized immediately after and, looking like it was going to explode, Miles raised his hand to put up the shield he had designed for a similar situation during his flight. Nothing happened, and he looked to see that his ring wasn't loose or anything. It was missing, and, upon comprehension of what was about to happen, Miles gasped. The vapor blew, throwing Miles at least 100 feet into the air and about 1000 feet back. He fell unconsious to the impact.
As he laid there, Miles attempted to sort through his memories of what had happened since he received his ring. Nothing remained except the picture of his ring and his brother handing it to him for his birthday.
Chapter 1
8:35 AM, December 1, 1661. Miles crouched down as he crossed the bridge between the roofs of the buildings, rifle across his back. He looked down at the people below. There was his target. His posture so perfectly open and still. But he could not take the shot, for he would be killed almost instantly shooting from such an open area. He kept moving, struggling to keep his feet quiet. By the time he had gotten to the end of crossing, his hands were sweating.
This one was not his average target. He wanted this one. This man had ruined so many lives that it was beyond comprehension how much destruction he had caused, considering the cozy life he lived away from his career. Miles pulled out his map of the compound. He knew where his best shot was and he was about to get there. He arrived not ten seconds later. It was a looking glass type of room, but there was only place that anyone would be looking in the next minute. Down my barrel... He thought, taking his rifle from his back and loading. Once loaded, he opened the window ever so gently, traced himself back about 2 feet, and lined up the barrel, the crack, and the legs of his victim.
As he steadied his breathing so as to increase accuracy, he thought, I get paid extra to let someone else do time for killing him rather than taking him out myself... I love my job. He pulled the trigger very gently, and then considered the guards. He lowered his rifle, but quickly raised it back up and fired. The second the shot left the barrel, his pistols were in his hands and his rifle was on the ground. He fired six killshots without hardly aiming, retrieved his rifle, and headed for the nearest way down.
When he got to the clearing his target was laying in, he had forgotten about stealth altogether. He grabbed the man by the collar and hoisted him over his shoulders. He moved as quickly as he could to get back to the entrance, out to the city, and onto the docks.
As he left the building, people around him saw him carrying the unconsious man and cheered.
By the time he was at his ship, people had handed him over 2500 gold, enough to buy almost anything you could want short of a fine house or vessel of some sort. He climbed aboard his smaller-than-not ship, the Benchmarker. He handed the man off to his medic.
“Get that ball out of his leg. We can't have him dying from an infection on us, now can we?” He asked as the medic took the man.
“Aye, captain! No captain! I'll make it as painful as possible.” He replied, scurrying off to repair the shattered man.
“Good man.” Miles muttered after him, then walking off to his cabin. He looked around at the dusty books on the wall, the dusty desk, and the very, very dusty treasure pile. The only thing that was not dusty was his bed, and for obvious reasons. He walked over to his exterior door and walked out onto the back of the ship, his private deck. The sun was rapidly setting, so he decided to call it a night and walked back to his bed, closing and locking the doors behind him. He changed to a baggy tunic and his finest informal trousers and crawled under the covers for the rest of the night, thinking about his reward.
Miles opened his eyes to a vortex of all colors except white consuming everything around him. He stood from the cold, hard ground to observe it closer. He had never seen anything like it, and it had a magnificence in all the destruction it was causing. He suddenly felt eyes digging into his skull from behind, and he turned to see a man of about 6 1/2 feet standing 20 feet behind him. Something seemed familiar, and as he attempted to figure it out, he saw it. It was him. The man was dressed dfferently than him, but they shared the same body. He grinned an evil grin and his mouth instantly opened rapidly enough to split his face in two, creating a second vortex that gradually gained color from the larger one until they were equal in color and size. They consumed all but him, leaving him in a white space with them. Gradually, they stopped spinning and faded to an endlessly deep black. They moved their matter around a small bit, until he saw them. Two great evil eyes surrounded by light... staring into his soul.
Miles was jerked back into consiousness instantly by the nightmare. It was dark, but activity could still be heard above him on the deck. Based on just how dark it was, he estimated it to be approximately 3:00 AM. He looked around, heart still thudding. He took a deep breath and began to calm down. This wasn't the first dream like this, but it was definitely the scariest. He stood, feet making contact with the cold wood of his cabin. He dressed himself and walked out of the cabin.
The man he'd shot hours before was sitting against the mast, being harassed by the crew. He ignored them easily enough and focused on Miles. He glared back until his ominous green eyes made the man shrink back.
“Don't kill him!” He shouted to the crew, and walked off. He climbed the stairs to the bow and walked up beside his navigator. “How long until we dock?”
“2 hours or less, captain!” He replied.
“Excellent work, Mr. Shaw.”
“Thank you, captain.”
After his brief conversation, Miles wandered off to check everything else that he could help with and give orders to any with none until they docked.
Chapter 2
When they docked, Miles threw his catch over his shoulder and walked off of his ship, followed by a select few of his crew. They marched through the port city until they arrived at the bounty office, where Miles went in alone, still carrying he crippled man. One inside, he rolled the man off his shoulder and onto the floor, and proceded to the desk. “Bruce T. Hellman, Alive,” He said to the clerk. “250,000 Naroks, I believe was our agreed price.” The woman peered at the writhing man from over her desk, and then rang a bell, which signaled the emergence of two very large men from another room, who carried the man into the back of the building while the woman walked over to the safe and retrieved a large bag of gold coins, which she proceeded to count and hand over to Miles.
Having delivered his load, Miles returned to his ship and gave everyone their payment for being of his crew, leaving him with 225,000 Naroks. His goal was The Warlord, an airship which many had their eye on. It was to be auctioned the following night. He wouldn't be against two or three other people. He would be lucky to be going against fifty or sixty. He'd been a bounty hunter for several months now and, knowing he'd need a fortune to win The Warlord, he had put away 5,000,000 Naroks to bid with. Naroks, their currency of small golden coins, had taken up the nickname “bucks” in years before, each having been the amount nessesary to buy one pelt of a buck. Since then they had quadroupled in value.
When Miles awoke the next morning, he had one goal for the day: The Warlord.
He spent the majority of the day pacing around his cabin and gathering his money.
Then it was time for the auction.
Miles wandered off toward the auction house shortly before the auction was scheduled to start. Once he got there, the first thing he noticed was the scale model of the airship. The real thing was far away from there, but even the smaller one was beautiful. It had brass and hardwood covering the outside, except for the blimp top and the wings spanning out from the sides, the name of the ship ingraved into the side in solid gold.
There was very little activity during the beginning of the auction, only the most valuable of things had more than 2 bidders. Before he knew it, Miles was upon the moment of truth. The auction of The Warlord had begun.
“Let the bidding begin at 10,000 Naroks.” The auctioneer said into the cone he was using to amplfy his voice. Almost immediately, the small-time bidders were going at it as fast as they could. They barely broke N125,000 before they were all bidding well above their limits.
Miles was the first to put a serious increment on the ship. “250,000 Naroks!” He shouted above all the comotion.
It was silent, but then a voice pierced the brief moment with “N300,000!”
“N350,000!” Someone else shouted, but Miles wasn't done yet.
“N500,000!” He shouted.
“600!”, “650!”, “750,000 Naroks!” Came immediately after.
“1,500,000 Naroks!” Shouted a man. Nobody dared challenge him... Except for Miles.
“N2,000,000!” Miles responded without thought.
“3!”
“3 and a half!”
“4!”
“4 and a half!”
“5!” His opposer screamed.
That was the end. Miles could not beat it. He could match it, but there was not a higher price that he could pay. As his opposer stepped up to claim the rights to The Warlord, Miles noticed something familiar about him. He decided to approach him, so perhaps the familiarity would show itself a little more clearly. He walked over to the steps down from the stage and waited for the man to come down. As soon as Miles looked upon his face, it became clear.
“Kit!” He shouted in surprise. The man looked up at him, and dropped his papers in shock.
“Miles! I thought you were dead!” Kit said.
“I thought you were.”
“Well, I'm not...”
“Well, what happened?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing...”
“I'll explain it later, but... Well, how have you been, brother?”
“I'm actually quite wealthy, if you couldn't tell. Was that you bidding against me?”
“Yes, it was.” Miles responded, feeling foolish. They could have saved themselves so much money had they known they were bidding against one another.
“Oh, well... Would you like to take a ride in The Warlord, then?”
“I cost you that much and you'd still let me take a ride in your prize?”
“I have money. Even if I didn't, you're my brother!”
“How much money could you possibly have that I cost you 3,500,000 Naroks more than you needed to pay and you can only say three words about it?” Miles wondered in awe.
“I'm not sure... Right around N850,000,000...”
Miles stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to comprehend how that was even possible.
“How could you have possibly gotten that much money?” He finally said.
“Well, after that thing threw me, I went back to the rubble of our house and followed your tracks to town. I couldn't find you, but I found those things you spawned on your arms and legs and sold them to a ridiculously wealthy man for 1,000,000,000 Naroks. Just like that...”
“Are you kidding me? I've spent the last six months taking incredibly dangerous missions only to get 5 million!”
“Well, now you can split my fortune with me! Come, we must take our conversing elsewhere.” He said. They were then escorted to the massive warehouse where The Warlord was being held. It was the same size as the bundle you would get from turning 6 large galleons sideways, put them as close together as you could, then doubled it in width and height. It was much larger than Miles could've anticipated, but Kit seemed to disregard its size and climb aboard. Miles followed shortly after.
The inside was at least twice as exquisite as the elaborately decorated exterior. It was brass, hardwood, and gold velvet everywhere. It was intricate, elaborate, and Miles didn't doubt that he'd walk on the wrong part of the floor and fall into a giant pile of Naroks.
There seemed to already be a crew, Miles thought it must have either come from Kit's personal funding or came with the ship itself. They settled themselves on a raised portion of the command bridge, overlooking the pilots and whatever was in front of the ship.
After they got comfortable, Miles asked, “So what could you have spent 150,000,000 Naroks on?”
Kit thought for a moment. “5,000,000 on this fine airship... 40,000,000 on these eight years of wealthy living, as boring as it has been... Then there's the 75,000,00 I spent on my fine island and the 25,000,000 I spent on the massive mansion I put on it, which is where we're going. Then there's the 5,000,000 I've spent on my lovely wife.”
“Ah, marriage... What is your wife like?”
“What, you know a thing or two? You married, brother?” Kit joked in his serious way.
“No, I'm just wondering...”
“Well, um... She's wonderful. She's the greatest woman in the world, as far uh know o'.” Kit's Irish accent slid out on the last joking words.
“Well, if ye wan' 'o ge' Oirish on meh.” Miles replied. They laughed.
“Aye. No' tha' it'll mattuh much, ye know. Ye an' yer ring. Uh can' win!” He cleared his throat and switched back to his more common accent. “You can't control that thing when you're mad, can you?”
“Actually, I lost it. I don't really know when, either. I lost my memory. All I remember is you and my ring... Well, I mean from before I lost my memory. I remember other stuff from afterwards, but...”
“What!?!”
“What what?”
“That thing cost me a month of work!”
“I'm sorry, but I don't even remember losing it. I just know what it looked like, not even what was so special about it.” Miles replied, sincerely sorry for whatever it was he had done.
“It was made of Evetium.”
“Evetium? I've heard it was special, but I can't recall how.”
Kit sighed. “It's complicated. Would you like to hear the story?”
Miles grinned. “What else do we have to do?”
Kit chuckeled. “Ye got a poin' thar', meh broth'r.” He resituated himself and began, “It started about 2,000 years ago in ancient Greece. There was a woman by the name of Eve. She was a scientist who had spent her entire adult life being an individual and an outcast. She was married for a brief amount of time, but the man quickly became disgusted with her unwillingness to be his slave and left her with their only son, whom I believe is an ancestor of the king. Anyway, she worked as a scientist for whoever was in charge at that point, I don't know. She built a machine... that could grant any wish... She realized what she had created, and then used the machine to create Evetium, which she used to destroy the machine, and then released to be used by poweful military leaders. Evetium allows control—and eventually complete dominace over—any substance. Her gauntlet carried the ability to create more Evetium, which, as far as we can tell, is impossible to create. Her co-workers quickly realized the significance of her creation, and attained some Evetium, which they, sadly, used to kill her. It's commonly believed that she hid the gauntlet before she was attacked, else the monsters that killed her would have come into possession of it... No one knows for sure, just that she had made plenty of Evetium before it dissapeared. It's more valuable than gold, she made so little, but still, plenty...”
Miles looked down. “I'll be thinking about that... But for now, I'm tired. Do I have quarters to speak of?” Kit nodded and indicated down a hallway extending off of the back of the room.
“Pick a room.” He said. Miles followed the hallway and then came to an intricately designed room, which he claimed as his own and, after undressing himself, laid down to go to sleep. It had been a long day...
Yep. That's size 1 font. xD
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Posted: Thu Dec 16, 2010 11:54 am
I would prefer to work on hands on projects wink lovely to be of service though
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