The artist in thee

Archemetis

Is Probably Awesome.
Aug 13, 2008
2,089
0
0
Labyrinth said:
Archemetis said:
Holy shit, it's almost Rincewind, except he's not fleeing, and doesn't have Wizzard on his hat.
My Girlfriend said the same thing...
Stupid thing is I've only read one of the Terry Pratchett books (Light Fantastic, I think) and even then that was when I was like 11...
 

Labyrinth

Escapist Points: 9001
Oct 14, 2007
4,732
0
0
Archemetis said:
My Girlfriend said the same thing...
Stupid thing is I've only read one of the Terry Pratchett books (Light Fantastic, I think) and even then that was when I was like 11...
Get to it, man! You're missing out one one of the most complex and interesting fantasy worlds ever conceived.
 

Archemetis

Is Probably Awesome.
Aug 13, 2008
2,089
0
0
Labyrinth said:
Archemetis said:
My Girlfriend said the same thing...
Stupid thing is I've only read one of the Terry Pratchett books (Light Fantastic, I think) and even then that was when I was like 11...
Get to it, man! You're missing out one one of the most complex and interesting fantasy worlds ever conceived.
I'm sure I'll get into it, I enjoyed the Light Fantastic and my Girlfriends entire family are huge Terry Pratchett/Doctor Who nerds.
 

Pink_Pirate

New member
Jul 11, 2009
414
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0
well i've just started drawing with a tablet, im not used to it at all yet but im getting there.
[http://s747.photobucket.com/albums/xx112/smezel/?action=view&current=lamda-11-2.jpg]
this is lambda-11 from Blazblue Continuum Shift, i've always wanted to do some fanart and since I main her I figured what the hell, I'll give it a shot.
 

Labyrinth

Escapist Points: 9001
Oct 14, 2007
4,732
0
0
LiquidGrape said:
Is that a harness keeping her boobs in? It looks hellishly uncomfortable and rather impractical. Too easy to slip out of.
 

rosemystica

New member
Jan 24, 2010
602
0
0
My work: http://grave-times.blogspot.com/

Zombie apocalypse story. Yes, I know zombies are rather cliche these days, but I'm having fun with it. X3 I'd appreciate some comments and feedback, if you do go to read it.

My fanfiction: http://www.fanfiction.net/~oorosemysticaoo

One is a Sailor Moon cosmic horror story, and one is a Labyrinth story about the Junk Lady.
 

LiquidGrape

New member
Sep 10, 2008
1,336
0
0
Labyrinth said:
LiquidGrape said:
Is that a harness keeping her boobs in? It looks hellishly uncomfortable and rather impractical. Too easy to slip out of.
Yeah. Blame BioWare, though. They are the ones who didn't know better than to give her a dungaree-bra.
 

arcainia

New member
May 16, 2008
292
0
0
Is posting DA links ok?

http://arcania.deviantart.com/

I'm a little embarrassed because my style is very....animu.

Don't judge me.
 

NewClassic_v1legacy

Bringer of Words
Jul 30, 2008
2,484
0
0
Probably something no one was expecting. (Part 17 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/18.72805.5676683].)

"So, um..." She said, when we sat down to eat. "Nukey, can I move in with you?"
"Wait..." I said, blinking. "What?"
"Well," she continued, staring directly down into her drink, "I like being with Nukey and he's fun, he's smart, and he's nice to me."
The waiter came to ask for our orders, cutting off my reply at the first syllable. I settled for burying my nose in the menu while she ordered. I also ordered quickly, and waiting until he was well out of earshot. "I was in a car wreck once," I answered slowly, making sure the words came out in the right order. "The other driver was a young guy, probably just eighteen by a day or two, and was on his cell phone. Smashed the back of my car pretty good. It was on the paneling in the back, so it spun me a little. He was making a turn on a red, and ended up clipping me. He got out, and was waiting at the door while I sat there, dazed. Not from the wreck, I was just so jarred out of my routine that nothing was clicking. Whatever brainpower I had at the moment just wasn't connecting. It took me about two minutes of him rapping on the window before I realized I was holding up traffic. We got off to the side of the road and sorted out insurance information...

"But more to the point of the story, I feel a bit like I did then. That question, you're saying words, but the meaning isn't lining up. I'm sitting here trying to make sense of a sensible sentence without any sense of my own to rely on. Uh... Move in? I'm not even sure my apartment has enough room for that kind of thing. Before you answer, I'm not saying no or yes, but rather 'not right now.' I have about as much stability as a drunk six minutes after last call."
"But-" She began.
I interrupted. "I need a walk." I got up and walking away. It wasn't until I was a fifteen minute walk away from the restaurant before I realized I had passed the waiter bringing out my food, much less have it paid for. I ended up in the park again, my apparent go-to spot for weird moods that never seemed to go away. I did a circuit of the park, and found no benches open. I eventually decided on the least crowded one, with a blond woman sitting on the far side reading. I settled on the opposite side, and let my head loll backward.
The woman, a hint of foreign in her voice, sounded amused. "It's never easy with you, is it? Though I don't think the restaurant appreciated dashing before dining."
"It happens sometimes. I'll go back and pay be- Wait..."
She peered over her book at me. It was hard to see her eyes through the sunglasses, but the body language was clear enough.
I frowned, "I think I've seen you, maybe, but I can't remember your name."
"Empireth," she supplied, turning back to her book. "Though recognizing me doesn't exactly help the restaurant make its bills."
"Or help me understand how you know about that. I thought only the mods had stalkers."
She sniffed, still absorbed in her book. "Stalker? I'm not sure that word is completely correct."
"Says the woman who knows my past thirty-odd minutes."
"I prefer observer." She answered, finally setting the book down. "It's harder not to see you sometimes. You're rather... iconic."
"Good to know my daily dramas have a viewership. Aren't mistakes better left out of the public eye?"
"Better? Maybe. Are they? No."
I pointed at the book, frowning. "Just as well that you're not reading Teen Magazine, or somesuch."
She smiled in reply, "How do you know it's not a book about you?"
"Because no one would willingly read a story about me."
She laughed at me, which made me quite angry. "You'd be surprised."
"I've had enough surprises for one day." I said, heat spilling out of my voice. Which made it crack, which made me more angry. Clearly didn't have the same effect on her, seeing as she started smiling again, probably hiding a laugh. It pissed me off even more. I managed, just barely, not to tell her where she could shove the book. I turned and walked until I was out of the park.

Then I started running. The thunder in the distance reminded me that rain was coming. I had heard as much on the news, but I was hoping it was incorrect. I continued running, realizing I was on my way to the coffee shop. It was closer than my apartment, and better shelter for rain. Although, if it was a thunderstorm on the horizon, it probably wouldn't have made a difference, one way or the other. Still, I kept my bearing and ran as hard as my legs would carry me. I got as far as the restaurant I had left before the light drizzle had started. I turned inside, determined to pay my bill, and flagged the head-waiter. He scowled at me, and demanded to know what I wanted. I told him I was sorry about the mix-up, and I offered him a few crumpled bills. He reminded me that the woman had paid, and that it was unnecessary. I left them on the counter anyway, feeling the sweat bead up under my suit.

There was still quite a run to go to just the coffee shop, and the rain was already noticably more nasty than it had been in a long time. Just as well, seeing as the area had been in drought.

I ran through the rain toward the coffeeshop when I was blocked by a car turning into an alley. The voice from the part spoke through the opening window. "Look, Nuke, I think we got off on the wrong foot."
"Empireth," I answered, "we may very well have."
"Let me make it up to you," she said, frowning.
The rain was coming down in buckets, and I could hardly see into the middle distance. It was way too hard to be a normal shower, and definitely too hard to be standing out in the rain chatting. "How?"
"Where are you going, I'll give you a ride."
"Thanks," I answered, glaring at the sheets of blond hair in the car. The interior looked nice, and warm. Wood paneling and leather. "But no thanks."
"This weather isn't good for pedestrians," she said, pointedly. "Don't be stubborn."
"I'll be fine," I snapped, feeling the torrential rain get worse and worse. "Now get out of my way. The longer you sit here, the longer I'm out here in this."
She leveled her gaze at me, unmoving. "I'm not budging on this, now get in the car."
"No." I shot back, unable to contain the rage in my voice. "I've had enough of today. I've had enough of this, of the rain, and all the damned drama. Enough is too much. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."
Her jaw set. "No."
"That's it," I said, nerves seething enough to metaphorically boil the rain landing on my jacket. This is was good suit, too. "I've had enough, I'm leaving."
"Nuke," she yelled, reaching for me as I stepped around the car. "Don't!"
I glared, "Stay away from me!"
"You idiot," she said, simply. Stated as a fact, not an opinion or an emotion. Which just served to piss me off even more.

The rain was getting worse, to the point where visibility was completely limited to mist, the vague shape up headlights, and blackness. Despite being mid-day, it was impossible to see at all. I fought against the sheets of falling water, and felt water striking my face faster than I could wipe it off. I ran, barely keeping track of either my footing or where in town I was. It was too thick to see across the street, and I could hear very little between the grumbling thunder above.

I couldn't hardly breathe by the time I made it to the coffeeshop. The street was barren, wind whipping overhangs and overturning trashcans. I looked across the street, barely able to make out the light of the cafe through the rain, even in such little distance.

Thinking back, though the day should have been a good one, it had single-handedly defeated me. I was able to take no more thinking, no more processing, no more anything. All the stress that had gathered before my country vacation coalesced into a headache that rammed my sinuses. I got really dizzy, and my stomach threatened to retch. The rain was the worst I'd ever seen it, and didn't seem to be letting up. The only respite I could even remotely hope for was inside the cafe. I stepped into the street, water lashing into the asphalt with almighty rage. The wind picked up, lancing against my body. I rocked on my heel, but recovered my footing, and pushed. The wind fought back, and I found myself leaning completely forward, jacket whipping out behind me as I pushed ahead. The cafe was coming into sharper relief now. I could see the gentle warmth of the cool browns and light reds. It was an inviting look, made all the more pleasant by the glowing orange of lights. I had been far too long out here in the dark.

The rain whipped again, and I continued fighting the wind. I saw a shadow flicker in the door, and it burst open, a roar of air pressure tearing into the air as it opened. Puppet screamed to me, and I heard sounds of horror from inside the coffee shop. Tires screeched, then my world changed, violently ripping sideways. I was distinctly aware of a numb feeling in my legs, and then the ground appeared far below me. Buildings rushed sideways, concrete spun in colors of dark gray and blue, and I felt something akin to an explosion go off inside my head. I couldn't feel the rain anymore, though I must've been laying in it.

Red, blotchy and ugly, fanned out around me. God, what a mess. I didn't envy the guy that would have to clean this up. I couldn't move my neck, but what I saw was bone fragments. Skin lay unattached on the floor. My bone and skin, I guessed. Mother nature roared above, and I realized just how cold it was without all the blood inside of me. I started crying, I guess, my throat burning and my body feeling detached. I heard footsteps, and felt distant fingers gripping me. They burned on my too cold skin. I couldn't speak, my throat closed up as it was. My eyes were having difficulty staying open.
"Oh God no," said the fingers, very literally squeezing what life of me was left. "No, Nuke, no!"

I couldn't hear Puppet over me anymore. Maybe Aeryn, maybe Neesa, maybe LaCoil, maybe Empireth. Who knows? It might've even been Erana.

I mean, here it was, a day where some dumbass can run over a pedestrian in the middle of a rainstorm. Clearly it was too unsafe to be outside, much less driving. Yet, here we are, witnessing yet another god damned statistic in action. I choked on a gasp of air, and felt a whole lot of nothing close around me. A damned car accident. No society should work like this one does.

(Part 19 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/18.72805.6553279].)

 

Hoki

New member
Jun 15, 2009
66
0
0
NewClassic said:
Probably something no one was expecting. (Part 17 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/18.72805.5676683].)

"So, um..." She said, when we sat down to eat. "Nukey, can I move in with you?"
"Wait..." I said, blinking. "What?"
"Well," she continued, staring directly down into her drink, "I like being with Nukey and he's fun, he's smart, and he's nice to me."
The waiter came to ask for our orders, cutting off my reply at the first syllable. I settled for burying my nose in the menu while she ordered. I also ordered quickly, and waiting until he was well out of earshot. "I was in a car wreck once," I answered slowly, making sure the words came out in the right order. "The other driver was a young guy, probably just eighteen by a day or two, and was on his cell phone. Smashed the back of my car pretty good. It was on the paneling in the back, so it spun me a little. He was making a turn on a red, and ended up clipping me. He got out, and was waiting at the door while I sat there, dazed. Not from the wreck, I was just so jarred out of my routine that nothing was clicking. Whatever brainpower I had at the moment just wasn't connecting. It took me about two minutes of him rapping on the window before I realized I was holding up traffic. We got off to the side of the road and sorted out insurance information...

"But more to the point of the story, I feel a bit like I did then. That question, you're saying words, but the meaning isn't lining up. I'm sitting here trying to make sense of a sensible sentence without any sense of my own to rely on. Uh... Move in? I'm not even sure my apartment has enough room for that kind of thing. Before you answer, I'm not saying no or yes, but rather 'not right now.' I have about as much stability as a drunk six minutes after last call."
"But-" She began.
I interrupted. "I need a walk." I got up and walking away. It wasn't until I was a fifteen minute walk away from the restaurant before I realized I had passed the waiter bringing out my food, much less have it paid for. I ended up in the park again, my apparent go-to spot for weird moods that never seemed to go away. I did a circuit of the park, and found no benches open. I eventually decided on the least crowded one, with a blond woman sitting on the far side reading. I settled on the opposite side, and let my head loll backward.
The woman, a hint of foreign in her voice, sounded amused. "It's never easy with you, is it? Though I don't think the restaurant appreciated dashing before dining."
"It happens sometimes. I'll go back and pay be- Wait..."
She peered over her book at me. It was hard to see her eyes through the sunglasses, but the body language was clear enough.
I frowned, "I think I've seen you, maybe, but I can't remember your name."
"Empireth," she supplied, turning back to her book. "Though recognizing me doesn't exactly help the restaurant make its bills."
"Or help me understand how you know about that. I thought only the mods had stalkers."
She sniffed, still absorbed in her book. "Stalker? I'm not sure that word is completely correct."
"Says the woman who knows my past thirty-odd minutes."
"I prefer observer." She answered, finally setting the book down. "It's harder not to see you sometimes. You're rather... iconic."
"Good to know my daily dramas have a viewership. Aren't mistakes better left out of the public eye?"
"Better? Maybe. Are they? No."
I pointed at the book, frowning. "Just as well that you're not reading Teen Magazine, or somesuch."
She smiled in reply, "How do you know it's not a book about you?"
"Because no one would willingly read a story about me."
She laughed at me, which made me quite angry. "You'd be surprised."
"I've had enough surprises for one day." I said, heat spilling out of my voice. Which made it crack, which made me more angry. Clearly didn't have the same effect on her, seeing as she started smiling again, probably hiding a laugh. It pissed me off even more. I managed, just barely, not to tell her where she could shove the book. I turned and walked until I was out of the park.

Then I started running. The thunder in the distance reminded me that rain was coming. I had heard as much on the news, but I was hoping it was incorrect. I continued running, realizing I was on my way to the coffee shop. It was closer than my apartment, and better shelter for rain. Although, if it was a thunderstorm on the horizon, it probably wouldn't have made a difference, one way or the other. Still, I kept my bearing and ran as hard as my legs would carry me. I got as far as the restaurant I had left before the light drizzle had started. I turned inside, determined to pay my bill, and flagged the head-waiter. He scowled at me, and demanded to know what I wanted. I told him I was sorry about the mix-up, and I offered him a few crumpled bills. He reminded me that the woman had paid, and that it was unnecessary. I left them on the counter anyway, feeling the sweat bead up under my suit.

There was still quite a run to go to just the coffee shop, and the rain was already noticably more nasty than it had been in a long time. Just as well, seeing as the area had been in drought.

I ran through the rain toward the coffeeshop when I was blocked by a car turning into an alley. The voice from the part spoke through the opening window. "Look, Nuke, I think we got off on the wrong foot."
"Empireth," I answered, "we may very well have."
"Let me make it up to you," she said, frowning.
The rain was coming down in buckets, and I could hardly see into the middle distance. It was way too hard to be a normal shower, and definitely too hard to be standing out in the rain chatting. "How?"
"Where are you going, I'll give you a ride."
"Thanks," I answered, glaring at the sheets of blond hair in the car. The interior looked nice, and warm. Wood paneling and leather. "But no thanks."
"This weather isn't good for pedestrians," she said, pointedly. "Don't be stubborn."
"I'll be fine," I snapped, feeling the torrential rain get worse and worse. "Now get out of my way. The longer you sit here, the longer I'm out here in this."
She leveled her gaze at me, unmoving. "I'm not budging on this, now get in the car."
"No." I shot back, unable to contain the rage in my voice. "I've had enough of today. I've had enough of this, of the rain, and all the damned drama. Enough is too much. Get. Out. Of. My. Way."
Her jaw set. "No."
"That's it," I said, nerves seething enough to metaphorically boil the rain landing on my jacket. This is was good suit, too. "I've had enough, I'm leaving."
"Nuke," she yelled, reaching for me as I stepped around the car. "Don't!"
I glared, "Stay away from me!"
"You idiot," she said, simply. Stated as a fact, not an opinion or an emotion. Which just served to piss me off even more.

The rain was getting worse, to the point where visibility was completely limited to mist, the vague shape up headlights, and blackness. Despite being mid-day, it was impossible to see at all. I fought against the sheets of falling water, and felt water striking my face faster than I could wipe it off. I ran, barely keeping track of either my footing or where in town I was. It was too thick to see across the street, and I could hear very little between the grumbling thunder above.

I couldn't hardly breathe by the time I made it to the coffeeshop. The street was barren, wind whipping overhangs and overturning trashcans. I looked across the street, barely able to make out the light of the cafe through the rain, even in such little distance.

Thinking back, though the day should have been a good one, it had single-handedly defeated me. I was able to take no more thinking, no more processing, no more anything. All the stress that had gathered before my country vacation coalesced into a headache that rammed my sinuses. I got really dizzy, and my stomach threatened to retch. The rain was the worst I'd ever seen it, and didn't seem to be letting up. The only respite I could even remotely hope for was inside the cafe. I stepped into the street, water lashing into the asphalt with almighty rage. The wind picked up, lancing against my body. I rocked on my heel, but recovered my footing, and pushed. The wind fought back, and I found myself leaning completely forward, jacket whipping out behind me as I pushed ahead. The cafe was coming into sharper relief now. I could see the gentle warmth of the cool browns and light reds. It was an inviting look, made all the more pleasant by the glowing orange of lights. I had been far too long out here in the dark.

The rain whipped again, and I continued fighting the wind. I saw a shadow flicker in the door, and it burst open, a roar of air pressure tearing into the air as it opened. Puppet screamed to me, and I heard sounds of horror from inside the coffee shop. Tires screeched, then my world changed, violently ripping sideways. I was distinctly aware of a numb feeling in my legs, and then the ground appeared far below me. Buildings rushed sideways, concrete spun in colors of dark gray and blue, and I felt something akin to an explosion go off inside my head. I couldn't feel the rain anymore, though I must've been laying in it.

Red, blotchy and ugly, fanned out around me. God, what a mess. I didn't envy the guy that would have to clean this up. I couldn't move my neck, but what I saw was bone fragments. Skin lay unattached on the floor. My bone and skin, I guessed. Mother nature roared above, and I realized just how cold it was without all the blood inside of me. I started crying, I guess, my throat burning and my body feeling detached. I heard footsteps, and felt distant fingers gripping me. They burned on my too cold skin. I couldn't speak, my throat closed up as it was. My eyes were having difficulty staying open.
"Oh God no," said the fingers, very literally squeezing what life of me was left. "No, Nuke, no!"

I couldn't hear Puppet over me anymore. Maybe Aeryn, maybe Neesa, maybe LaCoil, maybe Empireth. Who knows? It might've even been Erana.

I mean, here it was, a day where some dumbass can run over a pedestrian in the middle of a rainstorm. Clearly it was too unsafe to be outside, much less driving. Yet, here we are, witnessing yet another god damned statistic in action. I choked on a gasp of air, and felt a whole lot of nothing close around me. A damned car accident. No society should work like this one does.

There are these rare moments in writing when the reader chances upon a segment where the author lets his own emotions flood, churn, rage - or whatever your own preferred verb might be. This entire chapter felt as if you used the forum as a personal sounding board, and I'll admit that although I was initially speechless, I think it worked out beautifully. Add on the cyclical feel that the ending statement gave, and I as a reader was given a small amount of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it was nothing more than a bad dream.
At the very least, I can hope it was nothing more than that.
 

Fightgarr

Concept Artist
Dec 3, 2008
2,913
0
0
Hey guys, here's my latest Creature of the Week, entry. I'm in 4th right now, which is very exciting for me. I hope I can beat my record of 4 votes this week. Hope ya' like it.
 

Waif

MM - It tastes like Candy Corn.
Mar 20, 2010
519
0
0
It is threads such as these that allow me to truly appreciate art as it is. I've tried to learn, but it's harder than it looks. At least for me anyway, lol. In any case, keep posting this stuff ^~^!
 

Zemalac

New member
Apr 22, 2008
1,253
0
0
Fightgarr said:
Hey guys, here's my latest Creature of the Week, entry. I'm in 4th right now, which is very exciting for me. I hope I can beat my record of 4 votes this week. Hope ya' like it.
I'm trying to think of some sort of criticism, and failing utterly. That thing is crazy awesome.

Though I just noticed that the bird doesn't have any eyes.
 

Fightgarr

Concept Artist
Dec 3, 2008
2,913
0
0
Zemalac said:
I'm trying to think of some sort of criticism, and failing utterly. That thing is crazy awesome.

Though I just noticed that the bird doesn't have any eyes.
Thanks man. It does actually have eyes, but I motion blurred the hell out of them so they blend in. Here's a link to a larger image (the actual image is about 5-6,000 wide but here's a 1200 one):
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W_wCg39S5...SzsFXN4/s1600/COW178_SupersonicSpikeFinal.jpg
You can kind of see where the eye was before I motion blurred it to all hell.
 

NewClassic_v1legacy

Bringer of Words
Jul 30, 2008
2,484
0
0
(Part 18 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/18.72805.6529613].)

I woke up, which in itself was a surprise, and grumbled hoarsely about how bright it was. My back felt artificially straight, as if it were being supported. I tried to turn, slowly, and managed with a scant unreasonable amount of pain. There was a board on my bed that held my back straight while I slept. The straps were left hanging on either side of the bed. The bedside table held my glasses, clearly having been cleaned since I last used them. I put them on, blinked as my eyes refocused, and tried to sit up. My arm was sore, and looked like it had been recently trashed. There was a sizable gash on it, one I would think would require stitches. It didn't seem to have stitches, though, so I dismissed it. It looked more-or-less closed, though I bet it would be quite tender if I poked it.

I threw the blanket off, and took inventory of my legs. They didn't seem nearly as bad as I would have thought, but that just meant they were in a single piece. One of them had the giant plastic-and-straps cast over it, and the other was bandaged on a small part of the calf. I didn't see any red on the bandage, and poked it lightly. It hurt enough to tell me the cut, gash, slice, whatever was still open. I decided not to poke it any more. I tried wiggling both set of toes, and they wiggled when I want them to. The left leg, the one in the plastic whatsit, hurt quite a bit when I wiggled it.

I tried to ignore the IV still poking my arm, and looked around for a "call nurse" button. I found one swinging listlessly in the air conditioning, off the side of the bed. I tugged gently on the wire until I could get it up to where I could reach it, and pressed the button. I was expecting to be rewarded with a loud, happy sounding bzzt, but one never came. The dark room was too-quiet while I waited.

An ungodly amount of light accompanied the opening door, which was worse when a nurse on the opposite side flipped the light switch. Ow. I slowly opened my eyes. She was inside, staring at me as if I was a ghost. "You're awake," she said, decidedly surprised that I would ever wake up.
"Yeah," I answered, throat sore as all hell. Very hoarse. "I do it about once a day."
She looked at me, "I'll go get the doc."
I rasped, hopefully she heard me before she left. "And water."
She came back with liquid heaven attached to a doctor. He eyed me with the sort of skepticism most people reserve for old cheese and uncooked chicken. "Good morning, how are you feeling."
"Not," I answered honestly, pointing at the IV. "Thanks to this, I'm sure. Throat hurts."
"Here," he replied, handing me a bottle with a straw. I sipped slowly, trying to get myself hydrated again. My throat hurt less as I drank, but it didn't help a whole lot. Still, I could speak without pain. Small favors.
H'okay, how bad am I? "How's it look, doc?"
"Much better than a guy who got hit by a truck should look. Your left leg broke pretty badly, but it doesn't seem to be fighting being set back in place. It'll probably be tender, as will the gash. We've been cleaning it up quite a bit these past few days. Your knees and ankles seem more intact than they have any right being, though your left ankle seemed to have some torn up parts. It'll likely give you trouble off and on, worse if you get arthritis, but you should have mobility before too long.

"My colleague who works in this field more than I do suggested physical therapy, which I agree with. It's going to hurt to make your leg move the way it's supposed to, but you'll need to do it anyway. The other gashes haven't completely torn any muscles or anything, so you'll get some nasty scars, but they shouldn't give you any trouble beyond what a huge gash would anyway. Your head got hit pretty hard, but if you're concussed, we couldn't tell. I don't think you'll notice any permanent damage, but I don't know for sure. Your MRIs don't show any signs of problems.

"So, physical therapy as often as you can stand it, take it easy on yourself, and keep some muscle relaxers nearby, and you'll come out okay. I wouldn't recommend pushing that left leg very hard ever again, so that ankle doesn't get worse."

That's not too bad, I guess. I admitted so aloud.
"Quite so," he said, the cap of a cheap ballpoint bobbing from his lips as he scribbled on a clipboard. "I'm putting you down for twice-weekly physical therapy as soon as this cast comes off." He thumped the plastic with the butt end of a pen. "How do you feel otherwise?"
"I think I'll make it." I answered, still squinting through the light.
"Like a good little soldier," he said, seeing a flash of the awful light in his teeth.
"How long is the cast going to be on?"
"You've been out about for a few days. Once the cuts are managed and stop bleeding, we'll be getting you a plaster cast. You'll probably have that one on for about seven weeks, maybe more."
"Nasty, how low will it have to go?"
"If you want to start therapy in a few days, we can make it a short-leg cast. It will still go down to your foot, which can't be helped with the break. You seem to be healing quick enough though, so there are worse things that can happen. Nothing got infected, and you were on blood until yesterday. Take it easy these next few days, and then go easy on physical therapy. If it all goes well, you'll be better than you could've hoped to be."
I scratched my head, noting the bandage up there. "Am I bleeding any up here?"
He checked, then unwrapped my head. My hair felt oddly heavy falling down. "Nope, looks like it closed up good. Lucky, really, that one had a good chance of being infected."
"I'll take what favors I can get," I replied, laying back down. My casted leg felt weird. "Say doc, there anything good on?"

(Part 20 [http://www.escapistmagazine.com/forums/jump/18.72805.6643658].)

 

Zemalac

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Apr 22, 2008
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Fightgarr said:
Zemalac said:
I'm trying to think of some sort of criticism, and failing utterly. That thing is crazy awesome.

Though I just noticed that the bird doesn't have any eyes.
Thanks man. It does actually have eyes, but I motion blurred the hell out of them so they blend in. Here's a link to a larger image (the actual image is about 5-6,000 wide but here's a 1200 one):
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_W_wCg39S5...SzsFXN4/s1600/COW178_SupersonicSpikeFinal.jpg
You can kind of see where the eye was before I motion blurred it to all hell.
Hmmm. Okay, then, though I hold that the blurred eye looks weird. The larger image is much better, methinks--you can see the filiments between the creature's spike-parts.

Demented Teddy said:
It does but they're closed.
Apparently so.