Does anyone find it a little strange that Nori of all characters had the subject number of 02? By my estimate Doll is the character in MD who most resembles 02/Lauren from Design. >Both had powers seemingly much greater than the protagonist's >Both were aloof/hostile toward the main characters goals >Both died alone and pretty terribly in spite of their superior powers Or am I retarded here?
>>12582 Anon. Even before this board existed it was always somewhat agreed upon that the discussion or posting of other Liam Vickers shows was okay. If this was a something like a Hazbin general then you'd have a right to complain since it would massively be off-topic
I've already seen MD, Cliffside and Internecion Cube, I really want to get into more of Liam's creepypasta works, which stories would /md/ recommend to binge first?
With Murder Drones ending soon, what do you think/hope Liam will do next? Revisit an old project? Or maybe start something new entirely? I think it will be interesting either way, since he'll now have completed his own animated show, he should have an easier time with whatever he does next.
>>15348 >>15501 Seconding Black Dogs. The reason it got a decisive conclusion is because it's the most refined of his early longform stuff and because the fetish crowd didn't get overly weird about anything and scare him away. He knew what he wanted from the start and he executed it
>>17847 >Yellow Halogen got canned for future seasons in part because the incest fetish people glued themselves to it. I don't think this is the case. While there were some unhinged people in the comment section of Part 9, he still intended to go through with Yellow Halogen S2 well into writing Design Season 3. It was just never fully realized.
Stargazing With Murderous Intent [lofi/chill beats] Feeling sick today and listening to this while I rest. The SSTWL medley feels really nice. It's also amazing (to me) that he's able to adjust his music into a different genre and make it look easy. With Di being in the picture, I just hope he has the time to complete the concept of Let's Split Up someday.
Siren I like that it doesn't seem to be native to the arid setting at all. Stuff like tentacle limbs with suckers, fish hooks, seaweed on its back, the weird getup. Like who wears a raincoat in the middle of a desert? It feels like there might be an interesting story route for it to end up in the town of Cliffside, maybe via trains that transport goods from port towns.
>>54471 You could almost do like a carpetbagger kind of angle with the sirens coming in from wealthy shipping hubs. Iirc aren't the sirens in the original Yellow Halogen sort of like secret royalty anyway?
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>Has the general understanding of what a sexual fetish is >Doesn't understand a toilet I really wish Vickers had put a bit of his 'tism into this to get more episodes out, because I really want to know what the hell she was learning
>>69033 >>69096 >>69113 >>69193 thanks. i like that it has the X eyes design that carried over to Cynwalker. since they're written as 'pissed off entities', i imagine the hypothetical episode they'd be in would push the horror factor a bit more since they're capable of illusion, telekinesis and some degree of reality manipulation (just based on the stuff Liam left on his tumblr on them)
The further into Liam's other works I dive, the more random shit in Murder Drones suddenly makes sense. I'm listening to puppet game and now all the "robots have bio mechanical parts suddenly due to coding" shit has context.
>>90146 The explaination Sarah gives for Ponder's origin, without giving spoilers for Pupoet Game, is basically "shitty coding leads to flesh horrors", which, considering that is also a story where multiple other stories are connected, explains the whole "Solver-infected robots bleed" thing.
>>97405 >Shows the majority of this board's population came from Murder Drones with no/little knowledge of his previous stuff. Well, yes. Cliffside has 16 million views. The entirety of Internecion Cube has 6 million. Even within the target demographic of Murder Drones, that's not an "you've at least heard of this" level of popularity.
>>97367 >>97456 >NTA Makes me a bit sad honestly, really the only place for Liam Vickers fans here...sorta wish there was more people, but I don't wanna turn into /utg/
I've been meaning to try and connect all of Liam's stories into a single uni/multi verse, but I've yet to watch the rest of SSTWL outside of the first two seasons of Design.
>>97937 Without spoiling things, Liam kind of does that for you eventually. At least for the stuff on SSTWL. Not sure how you'd connect Internecion Cube, Cliffside, and Murder Drones, but there's at least one possible connection between puppet game and murder drones.
Would it be appropriate to post Vickers-Like characters that we come up with on our own, or those of other artists clearly referencing Liam? I ask only because I've been working on some drawings I've been enjoying but haven't been posting anything in the Drone thread because it's totally non-drone related. The character is however heavily Vickers-inspired, so what say you fellow Anons?
New character, inspiration drawn from allover my interests, but my overall inspiration is very much from Liam, especially Design and Internecion Cube.
A brief synopsis of the lore I have for her so far: At the age of 16, she developed a fictional immune disease I'm naming Metchnikoff Syndrome. At the time of her setting (sometime in the 2030s-40s) it's incurable and invariably fatal, usually within a short time. It completely eats up the immune system and demolishes the blood's ability to clot. She fights the disease for two whole years, but by her eighteenth birthday shes in hospice care with a prognosis of less than a month. Her family is approached by the Blue Mesa Dam research facility with a highly experimental untested medical procedure. The PREY initiative involves using nanotechnology to destroy diseases, cancers, or replace damaged cells including immune cells. She would undergo a risky procedure with very low survival chances, but of course the family accepted the thin odds. During the procedure her heart stops for six minutes, she is ruled medically dead. Unknown to her family PREY's primary goal was developing nanobiological weapons for DARPA, and when she revived she finds herself property of the US Government. Magnolia is the only current survivor of the procedure, thirteen previous subjects failed, ten had to be destroyed and 012 and 013 are currently trapped in vegetative states. She's been living in her current state for over a year, and is 19 and some months old, her memory however contains large gaps following her revival.
>>144924 Maybe in the same sense that the YF-23 was a real fighter jet. There's only one of her (at the moment) and her health is delicate and costly to maintain, her full capabilities are unknown and still developing. Her strength and powerset are completely dependent on the level of nanites available in her blood, they wear out when used and her body can only regenerate them very slowly, she relies on booster injections to keep the levels high. Without them she's a paraplegic too weak to stand on her own power and unable to maintain a stable body temperature, with just enough nanites to keep her from dying. Fully "charged" with a superdose of nanites she can do thinks like create near-impenetrable shields, molecule thickness whip-like blades that can shear effortlessly through metal, bench press a truck, levitate, and express a Wolverine-level healing factor. These abilities only last as long as the nanite overcharge, and rapidly diminish as the extra nanites are consumed.
>>144996 She would actually be quite shy, she’s a virgin. Two years of terminal illness immediately followed by a traumatic medical procedure, six months of physical therapy and a year of confinement away from any outside human interaction has left her totally isolated.
Im gonna start posting my human Y's here because technically they are not drones. but she is a character in my Liam Vicker AUs so why not. I AM VERY ANNOYED THOUGH as my art quality went from >>144943 to THIS today but whatever.
>>146741 I think somewhat the same way Liam does, I hold onto character concepts for years at a time, rolling them through multiple permutations, adding or pruning things from them, but keeping some kind of underlying theme. Over the past few weeks I’ve been brainstorming characters with another well known artist from the threads, one whom I look up to and whose input I value greatly. Those idea swapping sessions got me out of a creativity rut and spun off several characters and a setting similar in concept to Design or Internecion Cube. I’ve already got enough ideas for it that it could be its own entire thing, I had been fantasizing about a webcomic even, however considering my time constraints it isn’t realistic. Unlike Liam who made his first animations for college and then got Murder Drones as a professional job, my irl employment is totally unrelated to my art hobby and it’s a full time gig. To get the more fleshed out artistic training to take on something as ambitious as a webcomic I’d need to basically put my entire life on hold, which simply isn’t possible anymore.
Bugdrones when someone makes a cool request that interests me.
>>146757 NTA, but remember that a decent number of successful cartoonists managed to get toeholds despite less than stellar interplay between their employment and aspirations (Bill Watterson comes to mind) The bigger trick then trying to carve out snippets of time here and there to formulate a comic would probably end up being marketing it, your art's further along than a lot of people and you'd probably only need to hammer out a truly finished product for a pitch to get funding, with less fleshed out ideas of where to go from there
>>144899 I've got a few WIPs hanging around right now that I'll post too, I'm a bit behind because I've been suffering an awful week at work full of sleep disruptions and difficult, touchy jobs. Here's Elizabeth, Subject 011. By far the least-stable and most powerful of the current five named characters.
>>148991 015 Yvonne, lent to me courtesy of YAnon, his beloved failgirl now has another setting to job in. Second successfully revived subject, notably more stable than her predecessors. Her abilities work much more consistently but are inflexible and her inexperience leaves her more prone to errors in judgement.
>>148993 Final WIP that I've gotten bashed out and even less complete compared to the previous two. Much-loved fan favorite for anyone who knows the PhoenixAnon lore, transplanted to my newest project, it's Marcy! Somewhat the group baby, her nanoswarm symbiote is almost entirely dormant for unknown reasons, she has almost no ability to project or direct it outside of herself, but can use it to massively enhance her physical capabilities. One more to go before I move on to other characters!
>>149751 Glad you like what I've been cooking Anon, I need to make some refinements and all of these are super WIPs that are going to be redrawn over the weekend, but I do feel like I've settled on a set of themes that I like and can draw regularly. More to come soon.
>>150901 Ah, fuck it. Drawing the combat vest is impossible for me to look right and I gave up. Here's where I got to. >>151113 It was supposed to be a battle dress.
Working on a piece starring Kali (Design) and my own character Magnolia (PREDATOR/PREY), since I've decided to refocus my drawing projects down to fewer subjects with more focus on non-drone characters what little drawing I do will mostly be here for the forseeable future.
For clarity, my own setting is totally unrelated to Design and only takes inspiration from it, these characters could not plausibly meet without some kind of dimensional shenanigans, I just wanted to draw them together.
>>186288 Huh, I hadn't thought of it like that but now that I look I can sorta see it, with the two-tone military greens and desaturated orange highlights. It is meant to evoke a military theme, with the various labels and markings implying a sort of prototype state, as well as emphasize her physical frailty with the medical equipment hanging off her like at any moment she might need to be administered drugs with the clasps and buckles and obvious zippers and seams and lack of bulky armor implying that the whole thing could be stripped off of her quickly by nurses or scientists. You can note that each arm and each leg piece has a sort of clasp where the green transitions to black, each of those clasps holds that whole part of the suit on and so any one or all of them could simply be unclipped and tugged right off the limb beneath if necessary.
>>186045 Posting a moderate update, gave them outfits, facial expressions, adjusting the limbs and will probably adjust them more before I start in on lineart. Tired though and going to sleep, to avoid spam I'll hold off on any other updates until I hit the first pass of lineart.
>>186844 Didn't quite make it to lineart today, had a short weekend and had to cram in a lot of chores, so I threw together a temporary color test instead just to give a preview of approximately what they'll look like once all the lineart and color really does get finished.
>>187920 We talking greentext of another existing Liam story, or just a new story following the common Liam conventions. Because I could do the latter since I'm already simmering ideas for my own Liam-esque story.
>>188328 I'd need to simmer on a prompt for something from an existing Liam story, and probably go back and re-listen to it a few times to capture the characters correctly. As for the latter I'm the procrastinating retard who's slowly (glacially slowly) working on a story called PREDATOR/PREY, starring this bitch >>144899
So considering that Murder Drones was essentially the same story that Liam had been trying to tell forever with his other abandoned projects, what is the possibility that he's going to do something new?
>>190487 I've noticed that the whole fandom is unironically assuming that Liam's next show will also be about a monster girl with a manic smile and a cute guy she wants to fuck.
That's not saying much of course, but I also think Liam will use his old formula and just change it up in some parts, though I'd also like to get something brand new as well.
>>190741 YAnon basically lent her to me, and we just bounced some ideas back and forth about general things about Yvonne comparing her to the other PREY Subjects and how she'll be personality-wise. I haven't written anything except the little character bios further up in this thread and less than a page of very loose notes. I bounce ideas off of my friends all the time, some of them cook up into full character concepts, greentexts, stories, etc, most just simmer in the back of my mind. I couldn't call what I've done with YAnon and others a collaboration, not because I don't value their input but because PREDATOR/PREY is mostly an aesthetic draped over the bare bones of a story idea as of this moment.
>>190741 Phenoix was the one who originally came up with PREY Yvvones designs so technically its kinda fanart? Mostly ive just tried streamlining her design from femix's sketch.
Ok, still getting back into my groove with drawing but I got Magnolia's lineart close to done, over the course of the week I'm going to see if I can work up a few blocks of greentext which will serve as at least a prototype for the prologue of PREDATOR/PREY, to be posted here. No concrete promises, as usual, but that's where I plan to be pointing my focus over the next week.
Since we're posting "human" stuff here, here's another attempt of drawing proper humanoid forms. "Human" Switch stapling some new skin to her body because she has no idea how to sew.
>>190712 I am not happy with this sketch, but I needed to practice more flowy poses and extremer angles so ill take what I can get for now >>191421 Anon you need to listen to >>191495 go study Proko, ModerndayJames, Josh Black, You haven't improved at all in like an entire year
>>191669 I did see some of their videos, along with some other online tutorials, mostly on basic shapes and poses but the longer it goes the more I lose interest and can't pay attention. I found it more motivating to draw if I just visualise the rougher stuff in my head plus look at other artwork both MD and non-MD related for a pose/object/etc. and figure out things as I go.
>"Nothing...at all?" >"I'm very sorry Mrs. Hayes, but total immune system regeneration is still extremely new and, frankly in Magnolia's case the chances were very slim. In a normal case of immune deficiency the hospital probably wouldn't have even authorized us to try. As it is there isn't anything else we can do here, I've corresponded with the seven other specialists who have been working with your daughter over the past two years, and our consensus is...that we've exhausted all the conventional and most of the exotic treatments for Metchnikoff Syndrome. My advice would be to, ahem-, transfer her to hospice care and...ah, spend as much quality time with her as she...has left." >"Time? H-how long...?" >"In all honestly Mrs. Hayes, my colleagues and I are astonished by how long she's held on already. To be totally transparent, the hospital only gave us special dispensation to attempt immune regeneration because based on the progression of her symptoms compared to other cases, the Dean of Medicine and I agreed that her case should already have been terminal by the time you came to see us. She's already held on a month longer than our most optimistic estimates." >"So you're saying..." >"We don't honestly know, Mrs. Hayes, right now she's OK, she was able to eat a little this morning. The renal failure isn't progressing any faster than predicted, and while I can't predict how...it...will happen, the most dangerous thing is of course infection, followed closely by pulmonary hemorrhage ah, that is bleeding into the lungs." >"Doctor Collins...are you absolutely sure there's nothing else you can do? We don't care about the costs, we'll go anywhere, try anything at all...please...my daughter..." >"Well, there might be one place left we can send you...but are you sure? I don't want to dissuade you but Magnolia might be more comfortable...ah well. Here's their card. For what it's worth, I hope they can do something for your daughter, Mrs. Hayes."
>Magnolia turned the expensive feeling plastic business card over and over in her hands >It was almost more like a credit card, but without the usual numbers or signature line on the back, embossed into the face of the card was a sharp, impersonal looking logo: "B.M.N Blue Mesa Dam Nanomedical Institute" and bellow it, smaller and with stark white letters contrasted against a fancy sword motif "Subsidiary of Calibern Research & Development" >The motif held her attention, each way she tilted the card it faded to a different shade of blue, one way storm blue almost grey, then reflective silver, then a deep iridescent beetle blue >A pothole jolted the car and nausea surged up from the pit of her stomach, cold sweat instantly springing out on her forehead and she screwed her eyes shut, counting backwards from ten and battling to swallow the bitter copper taste that surged into the back of her mouth >"Ma, we almost there? Need a puke break soon..." >She hated the cross country drives, hospital to hospital, state to state almost every other month for the past year. Each drive had become progressively worse as she got sicker. This time she'd been unconscious for most of it, but that wasn't a comforting sign. For the past week catching her breath had become increasingly difficult, and the rare bouts of vomiting that used to strike only once or twice a week had started coming on at least once a day. Today she'd already thrown up twice, both after trying to eat some of the bland, sterilized food her mother had packed for the trip. Both times it had come up clotted with blood. >Her fingers fumbled with the card, they felt cold and mostly numb these days. Half of the problem, the doctors explained, was anemia which made sense. The other cause, according to Doc. Collins was nerve damage. They'd never seen it before because nobody with Metchnikoff had lived long enough for it to take hold.
>The road abruptly evened out, and Magnolia risked a glance out the window. >Ahead of them the dense woods of the Blue Mesa wildlife preserve were cut abruptly by a massive, imposing, supermodern security wall, thirty foot tall nets of thick metal cable suspended between thick plasti-concrete pillars crowned with dimly glowing red warning lights converging on a solid looking brushed steel security gate. >"I think...we're here Maggie..." >"Great, I'm gonna get out and puke now."
>>195178 Apologies for being slow on this, weekend was crammed with chores because overtime work backed up my schedule, but I did promise last week to get some writing done and I hope this is at least enough bait to keep any readers interested until next weekend.
>>195817 It is, I put out feelers prior to posting any of my OC shit if anyone thought it would be too off-topic in >>142842 post. Reaction to that question and the first post seemed generally positive. The greentext story and characters I've been working on are directly inspired by several of Liam's own works, however I will spin off a containment thread for Liam-Inspired art, stories, etc if other posters here find what I'm posting to be disruptive or too far off topic.
>>196094 IMO while the letter of the law says this is for other LV series, the spirit of the law has accepted this thread for vibes based offshoot OC and non-drone stuff Plus the activity is so sparse there's plenty of space for both
>>195817 The vast majority of anons have been familiar with Liam's work for a while, and have been wanting a full project from him for a while, so we definitely wouldn't mind getting something inspired by him.
>>195522 Strange team building exercise More bullshit Cant be bothered to finish it, already taken me 7+ hours lmao. I really have to learn how to draw better sketches faster, its getting ridiculous.
>>195178 >Consciousness returned in a series of waves of pain, starting from her her guts and radiating outward, pain in her chest as a too-liquidy cough forced its way up her throat and out her mouth reeking of clots and iron >The pain started to throb in time with her pulse, her overtaxed heart felt like it was beating up against the inside of her ribs, the ribs were a throbbing cage, and a vicious slow wave of pins and needles started at her elbows and moved down until it reached the numbness in her hands and subsided >For some wavering, watery period of time she swam between sleep and wakefulness. Too slowly, the pains began to recede and she could faintly make sense of things one sense at a time. >There was a cool, clinical feeling softness underneath her...she wasn't kneeling on the rough cement with sun beating down on her back, every tendon knotting as she prepared to throw up...this felt like some kind of bed, a plastic-feeling sheet covered her and the air had the unmistakable dry chill of being heavily conditioned >She tried to shift her body slowly, one numb distant finger at a time, encountered a fresh throb in her wrist and the familiar invasive under-the-flesh shifting of an IV, a shift at the crook of her elbow implied the presence of yet another IV, more shifting revealed two more, one piercing her leg...that was a new one, and another uncomfortably slithered against the inside of her collarbone, the needle piercing neck just where it met her shoulder >Her eyelids felt like lead panels, the muscles shivering with the strain of cracking open, panic needled her because for a few moments she saw nothing but vague red toned blurs >Something warm and moist rolled down her cheek, the blurs swam slowly into shape as she concentrated all of her effort on bringing her eyes into focus >"Oh she's awake! Nurse, someone! Oh baby your eyes...oh my God" >Something white filled her vision, softness dabbed her cheek then pulled away blotched red
>Awareness wavered again, human figures Magnolia couldn't quite recognize seemed to leap across her narrow field of view in fast forward, somewhere far away from her a machine made a complex pneumatic sound >Cold liquid fire trickled through the IV line in her shoulder, pain faded and fell to the back of her mind, and her vision assumed an abnormal sharp clarity, she heaved herself upright barely feeling how the deeply indrawn breath rattled deep in her lungs >There were two other people in the room, she focused her too-sharp eyes on them both >One was her mother, she looked...older, much older than the last two years should have made her, there were stress wrinkles around her mouth and at her forehead, her eyes looked sunken, her hair, which Magnolia had always thought of as beautiful looked brittle, and was shot through with gray. The woman who had run with her and laughed with her and who sometimes felt more like an older sister to her had been shrunken by grief that Magnolia had barely noticed until now... >The man on the other hand...looked as though he had rolled off of an assembly line for "trustworthy physicians", salt and pepper beard, short and cut ruler straight, hair similarly grayed at the temples but almost as if the age were cosmetic, steel rimmed spectacles, brushed chrome stethoscope, brushed chrome belt buckle...like he was only playing a doctor on TV
Ok this is like a half-update, but there will be a second one later today after I've slept a bit.
>>202359 Going to see if I have enough time tonight to write a little something, Monday morning (my evening) was pretty rough, giga thunderstorm and a bunch of extra shit to do pre-work week.
>>199502 >>202662 Sorry for the sluggish second half, week had a bit of a hectic start, consider this a slow-acting dose. PREDATOR/PREY Prologue 2.5/?
>The too-perfect doctor stepped up to her bed, extending one large, long fingered hand to shake. It was cool, dry, the skin obviously subjected to regular cosmetic treatment and...she could FEEL the pressure >She could feel the handshake in fingertips which had become first painful and then numb months ago, fingertips which had been insensate and cold the last time she had been conscious. >Her eyes flickered from him to the IV piercing her just above the clavicle, which led to a bag of what appeared to be donor blood...except for the label, the type label which would normally be front and center and which should read "O-" was crowded out by a large symbol that she'd never seen before. >It looked similar to the biohazard trefoil, but with a large N contained in the center, and in another section of the level "Type O-/S, Synthetic Blood Analogue, Additive A-v0.4" >"What is it?" Her suspicious gaze latched onto his eyes...his eyes were just like the rest of him, cool, professional...false in some way she couldn't quite put her finger on, even with this strange and sudden clarity >"It's part of the treatment we may be able to offer to you, you were in respiratory arrest and your mother signed a waiver to allow us to administer this treatment as an emergency life saving measure. I'm pleased to see that it has." >His eyes were neither pleased nor displeased, she could see how they flickered from her to the large suite of diagnostic screens by the bed, his eyes focused more sharply on the data than they did on her. >"But? There's something else?" >The pleasant mask didn't shift as much as a single degree, either he practiced this speech a lot or..."Unfortunately, yes. Our medical nanotech is very, very experimental, each batch has a very short lifespan under most conditions. The nanites circulating through your body now will soon wear themselves out, at our current level of development they can't really repair the harm caused to you by your illness. What they're doing now is replacing the functions a healthy body could perform." >"How long?" >"Perhaps a few hours, we aren't entirely sure. No two batches have come out identical and we've never administered them to a human subject with a preexisting illness. Excuse me, would it be much of an imposition Mrs. Hayes, if I had a few minutes to talk in private with Magnolia? Part of the government grant stipulations, a bureaucratic technicality really..." >Magnolia's mother stood uncertainly, and the girl reached out one gaunt hand to give her a reassuring shake, before turning her attention back to the doctor. >He unlocked the exam desk with an ID card tapped to a nearly invisible reader, before producing an eye-catching scarlet binder >The face of the binder was embossed with bold, bright white letters and the same trefoil symbol as her "blood" bag >It read in ominous all-capitals "PROJECT PASSOVER - PREDATOR/PREY SYSTEM" and in subtext "This Document Is Classified Top Secret By The United States Department of Defense, Copying, Dissemination or Unauthorized Examination Of This Document Punishable by $2,000,000 Fine or 20 Years Imprisonment"
>Leafing through the file past several sections she couldn't make out, he withdrew a thin sheaf of some heavy, official looking documents and handed them over to her, along with a chromium pen from his coat pocket >"Before we can continue any further with your treatment, I would need you to read and sign these."
Kirie's whole deal-formerly human monster hellbent on avenging her ruined life and stolen humanity-and IC-313n apparently being Krow's actual literal sister intrigue me the most out of anything in Internecion Cube. If I were making a Liam-influenced project like PREDATOR/PREY, those two things would be the seed for it. Would be kinda Kamen Rider meets Guyver meets FMA meets revenge story. Girl who got Cronenberged into a horrific biomechanical kaijin needs to go through life pretending she's still normal and human around everyone else while pursuing Total Horrific Biomechanical Kaijin Death, while her surviving family-her brother and her grandma-do their best to keep her emotionally grounded. If you'd like to hear more there's a smattering of other ideas I have in mind for it.
>>207443 Yes. Not exactly how you describe but I will be digging into the conflict between characters humanity and the inhuman abilities imposed on them.
>>207815 >abilities I'm talking, re: my thing, MC literally becoming a fucking skellington monster who needs to eat major organs (not necessarily human, but animal organs are the equivalent of a starvation diet) to live and can't outwardly emote anymore ('nother thing lifted from Kirie; yes, that fic I posted earlier got under my skin), where taking on a human form feels viscerally wrong to her but she does it anyway because she can barely stand to look at what she's become.
>She barely read them...of course she didn't. Who actually read through all the waivers and disclaimers in these things? Partway through the forms it dawned on Magnolia that the awful, wonderful razor sharp focus that had gripped her was beginning to dull at the edges. >Pain nibbled at the corners of her awareness, barely palpable but present in her where minutes ago it had been...far away and meaningless. The pen felt slightly clumsy in her hand, but even so the last lines at the bottom of the page, marked around with bright red hazard stripes forced her to pay attention. >"[THE SUBJECT HEREBY CONSENTS THAT SHOULD THEY BECOME DECEASED THEIR REMAINS IN WHOLE WILL BECOME PROPERTY OF THE GOVERNMENT OF THE UNITED STATES]" >She waivered. >Months ago she had made her peace with the idea that she was going to die very soon. Each week some new problem had arisen, a new doctor every month, pills and injections that made her body flame with fever or made her vomit constantly. One supposed to protect her blood vessels from bursting just made it feel like she'd been injected with molten lead, and in the end it had only held the symptoms at bay for a short time, on and on and on until now. >Her guts did something liquidy and unpleasant. She sneezed, a sneeze so violent that her vision narrowed and she felt her laboring heart leap and flutter against her ribs. >Heat rolled down her face and she instinctively knuckled at her nose. Her hand came away smeared scarlet and a wave of chills rolled down her spine, for a brief moment she lost all feeling in her extremities and it was only with difficulty that she held the pen. >Magnolia turned a glare on the doctor, he KNEW, she could see it in his face, in those cold, grey, brushed metal looking eyes. He had known exactly how long this nanite stuff would hold her up, and had known exactly when to spring this document on her. She wouldn't have enough time to go back and read through the dozens of crammed paragraphs of technical jargon, by now she could tell when an attack was coming, first the nosebleeds and nausea, soon she'd pour blood from every orifice, even patches of her skin would randomly leak it...shooting, uncontrollable muscle cramping, seizures as her nerves continued to die... >She signed her name under the highlighted warning on the line, and then laid back, exhausted. >The attack was slowly beginning to ramp up, her vision wobbled and waivered with black splotches nibbling at the edges. >Faintly she could feel herself being lifted, and hear the rippy sound of velcro straps being drawn across her body, another wave of chills rolled through her body and she could feel the presentiment of the clenching jittering coming into her fingers and toes. >Someone pressed her hand with desperate force, warm skin sending lancing pins and needles pain shooting up her arm, she could see her mother out of the corner of one eye...saying something, almost yelling it as they moved down some corridor or other. >Magnolia attempted to squeeze some confidence back into her mother's hand, but her cold fingers only twitched and spasmed, muscles leaping and jittering in her palm.
>The gurney reached a door...not a normal hospital ward door but a great steel faced slab that looked like a bank vault door, already drawing back like like a metal mouth to swallow her. >Mother's hand suddenly gone from her own, whisked away by two burly men, they were wearing body armor with great, oversized looking military rifles slung across their chests, final flash of mother's panicked expression over one of their shoulders. >Magnolia wanted to call out to her, to turn over and wave to her, but she was locked inside of herself, teeth clenching uncontrollably her muscles rhythmically spasming against the velcro restraints >The great steel maw swallowed her, and now she was in a strangely rounded corridor, the floor was hospital white, the curving walls and ceiling were blood red...in fact, everything seemed to be red now >Her consciousness began to swim, tunneling down that surreal scarlet corridor, she was only vaguely aware of a second colossal door drawing open with an almost silent pneumatic sigh, except that it had a strange color to it, burnished gold, almost bronze, it caught the light oddly and gave off a blue sheen...then she was in...some kind of operating theatre, small-ish, filled with doctors in bright scarlet suits, entirely sealed behind full face hoods. >Every metal surface in that room had the same, strange golden metallic sheen to it, her timesense began to take on a nightmare like quality and as a technician fiddled with one of her IV lines, she felt that the was beginning to fall away down a deep well >Something cold rushed into her veins, agonizingly cold, her body felt as though it were falling away from her and she could only faintly feel its feeble thrashing now, her entire world was an ocean of ice >Waves of freezing water crashed against a beach >She exhaled until her breath fogged the window of her family home so she could draw a smiling face at her parents covering plants outside >The glass was exquisitely cold against her fingertip >She was outside on a snow day, school had been canceled, and she had wanted to know just how cold it really was...it had been stupid, her in nothing but a bathing suit falling backwards into a snowdrift because of a silly dare from a friend >A crisp shock all along her spine, her skin throbbing as it belatedly pierced her
>Time stopped for Magnolia Hayes, crystalized in a moment of perfect recall
Right down to the wire before I have to get to bed for work, enjoy!
>>210184 >(You) tell her this >her expression remains unchanged, as usual >but black crap that probably shouldn't come into contact with human skin is still pouring from her eyes >someone knowing what she really is now and still thinking she's beautiful...
My rotted brain produced the rest of this moment: >buildup to look like Kofi's a dead man because he knows too much now... >followed by Kirie not killing him, but trauma dumping on him because she finally has a chance to talk to someone, anyone, about being warped into a monster and having everything taken from her >cut to another scene >when that scene is done, cut back to school >Kirie's finally gotten this thing off her horrible biomechanical skeleton monster chest and looks slightly hopeful despite her true form's face being frozen in a predatory rictus >Kofi speaks, and he completely misunderstood everything she told him
Apologies for the behind PREDATOR/PREY update for this weekend, I had to spend a lot more time this weekend on vehicle maintenance and my drawing tablet also encountered an issue that I had to burn some hours figuring out so I could order what I hope is a replacement part that will resolve it. I'm going to see what I can do about making one or two small updates over the course of the week. So far I haven't felt any burnout so be reassured that I'm not simply abandoning the story.
>>213914 Well, at the minimum free time will be, my drawing tablet is dead, replacing the cables and updating the software didn't work, so I'll not be spending any more time on that hobby for at least a couple weeks while I save up money.
Circe Parsons is revealed to be Narrativistic, she then states that she wants to kill God/The Author. Later she discovers that she can use her glitch abilities to travel to other timelines/stories, and then Desgin immediately ends. What if it was intentional bros and she was supposed to have killed Liam?
>>214775 Small update, ordered a new tablet, giving the old one away as a sort of fixer-upper gift to somebody who may be able to get it working. Until it arrives and I get it all set up I'll be writing more over this weekend, I may end up producing one extra large greentext or splitting it up across two separate days over this weekend.
Cryonics Technician >The surgical technician checked his instruments as the large wheeled medical device hummed and purred, one side of the large cart holding a five-quart flask which was rapidly filling with the subject’s visibly diseased and clotty blood. >The machine’s other wing was much larger, a second flask rimmed with frost was emptying of a cloudy bluish liquid into an insulated IV line which pierced her arm, already the skin there was taking on a distinctly pallid color which could be mistaken for the chalky cyanosis of death. It wasn’t. >He bent to the readout screen, carefully tracking the increasing number of temperature points as other assistants clinically and impersonally used hospital shears to cut away the subject’s clothing, and specially coated trimmers were rapidly brought into play to buzz every square inch of her hair away. Immediately small coin sized sensors were applied to her shaven and hastily sterilized skin. Each sensor fed into several large pieces of equipment with dedicated technicians hovering over them. On his console they read out a rapidly dropping temperatures from each sensor that produced a three-dimensional scan of the subject’s body. >”Temp?” >”Sixty and dropping, cryogel is stable at minus four degrees.” >”Heart?” >Another technician listened with a stethoscope “just stopped, four minutes and counting” >”How long on that damn temp?” >These moments were some of the most important, the lowering and later raising of the subject’s body temperature had to be managed with incredible speed. Doctor Hawthorne was always agitated during these steps and after all of the previous failed attempts the technician didn’t blame him. >”Bellow thirty and still dropping, core temp will be four bellow in less than a minute, negligible ice formation, theatre humidity is at thirty percent and holding right on the needle.” >Hawthorne approached the now completely exsanguinated girl, her flesh had taken on an almost powdery ashen blue color, lips and eyelids cyanotic. He gave her biceps an experimental pinch, her skin was icy and too firm, evacuated of every drop of blood and flushed with the antifreeze-like cryogel which would give them the time they needed to operate without freezing her solid. >He took up his position over her bare chest, there were faint purplish blotches under the skin of her stomach and on her thighs, she’d been bleeding out internally even as they had revived her with the Phase-0 unsynchronized nanites, that leftover clotting would have to be vacuumed out. He extended one gloved hand “Number 22 scalpel please.” As he felt the metal placed in his gloved palm “for the recording, this is Doctor Hawthorne, surgical theatre, level 5, time is two-thirty PM, May eighth, 2042.” >”Attempt number twenty, subject number fourteen, making the first incision now...”
Nanoswarm Technician >The nanite technician nervously drummed her fingers against the edge of the console; it’s display read “-100m” and steadily ticked down. >By now she knew that the final terminus was exactly two hundred and fifty meters down, a quarter kilometer down and more than a full kilometer horizontally deeper into the mountainside. >Her entire body twitched as the subterranean cable car settled with a pneumatic sigh, the straw gold mirror polished hatch made a solid “THUD” of metal-on-metal gas tight seals, before opening on totally noiseless magnetic bearings. >A computerized voice spoke in flat monotone “Level 6, Vault, Double check suit integrity now, the outer hatch must be closed and sealed before inner hatch will open. >She did so, double checking the golden hafnium seals of the thick but skintight scarlet copolymer surgical gloves, the similar seals at the grippy rubberized boots, the gas tight zippers of the single piece vibrant red suit, the two insulated hoses plugged into the sealed rebreather that made every suited person look like a symmetrical hunchback. >All good, every latch positively shut, clever closures pressing leaves of metal together to form unbreakable seals. The regulator hanging over her shoulder read six hours of filtered air, and she knew from experience that the task ahead would take only a short portion of that time. >The vault was enormous, three wings stretching off deep into the mountain, to her right was the Subject Wing, dozens of full hospital recovery suites, almost all of them empty and evacuated of air until they were needed, three of them were currently occupied. >Subjects 13, 12, and 11 lay in an apparently permanent comatose state, for reasons not yet understood the procedures had failed to take, leaving the three girls vegetative in an almost death-like stasis. >They made the technician’s skin crawl, their stiff contorted limbs, the waxy grey pallor of their skin that made them look like unearthly corpse-dolls, the way they would sometimes convulse, shake or scream uncontrollably...despite having no readable brain activity. If she hadn’t signed an NDA with a lifetime prison sentence attached, she would have cut and run or leaked, except that she had been shadowed at least twice when traveling to visit her parents. >She hadn’t left the company town since then. >The technician repressed a shudder as she passed the Subject Wing, and then a much more violent one as the next colossal airlock sealed with a final sounding thud behind her. The lighting ahead was dim and pinkish orange, and a heavy mechanical pulse throbbed overhead. >She reached a caged utility elevator at the edge of a precipitous cylindrical shaft, it’s walls lined with numbered hatch doors, all of which the elevator passed by as it descended further and further, into the directionless ruddy glow rising up from the lowest level of the chamber, a colossal metal sphere pierced at the apex by dozens of hanging cables, flexible pipes and braided metal hoses. >Heat rose up to meet her, she could feel the faint vibration as the suit’s life support pack labored to compensate, the regulator’s screen read out a sharp spike in humidity as well. Unidentifiable entrail-like tangles of machinery throbbed and boomed like distant thunder, replicating with uncanny pneumatic hisses the respiration of vast invisible lungs, and the terrible metronomic regularity of a heart which should not beat. >The “thing” floated in it’s confinement tank, drifting slightly in a current of seething blood-tinted suspension fluid behind six inches of transparent metal, stenciled in block letters above the tank was a simple and ominous label “[SUBJECT 000, ORIGIN]” >What reposed in the tank could only charitably be called a girl, it was an uncanny porcelain white, it’s flesh unwholesomely pallid and almost rubbery looking, where it hadn’t been flayed away from the structures underneath by some cataclysmic violence. One side of its head had been brutally subjected to the implantation of dozens of long metallic probes from which fluid hoses and data cables snaked up into the tube’s ceiling. More than half of its flesh on the right side was simply gone, leaving blackened, twisted bones upon which perversely shuddering strips living muscle tissue still clung. A tangle of black hoses pierced its abdomen and spilled out in coils like living viscera. One eye stared vacantly into space, the eyeball itself cloudy and dead looking, but lit from within with a sinister “X” of scarlet light. >The chest was the worst of it, whatever had ruined the thing has erased all traces of femininity here, bare carbon colored ribs and muscle were exposed, and certain modifications had furthered the grotesquery of the injury, a spider like metal armature had been used to violently split and spread the ribs, leaving the quivering, living lungs and spastically trembling diaphragm exposed, laying bare what could only barely be recognized as the remnants of a human heart. >It was no longer a heart. Strange geometrically perfect, mirror reflective black cubic structures had burst from within it or perhaps devoured it. One triangular face of it was perfect, a surface so smooth and mathematically precise and black that it seemed more like a void. The thing was incomplete, the other half of it divided and then subdivided again and again, growing outward like a geometric cancer to pierce or fuse with other organs. >Turning quickly away from the horror she prepared the extractor, a two-meter-long hypodermic device which slotted into an access port. With excruciating care she moved the needle forward, eyes locked on the targeting display which sent it between the splayed claws of splintered ribcage, until the ultra-sharp monomolecular needle pierced the “heart”, and a positive light flashed. >[REPLICATORS SUCCESSFULLY EXTRACTED, NEUTRALIZING, PLEASE WAIT...]
>>220088 I mostly just look at faces i like and construction of them. If i had to recommend some video it would be Josh Black, and Mick Cortes (He doesn't have videos but i like his faces. here is some of Josh black's work
Little Magnolia sketch on the new drawing pad. Story update sometime this evening. If anyone has thoughts, critiques or wants me to focus on certain aspects of the story I'd be pleased to know. Partly this is of course an exercise for me to enjoy myself with writing and character art but I find input from others helpful, especially since the goal is to capture that "vickers story" feel that drew us all here to begin with.
>>221995 You'll be in luck if not within today's update, than almost certainly within next weekend's update. >>222113 I appreciate the compliment Anon, glad I've been able to mesh my own aesthetic sensibility enough with Liam's vibe in her design.
>>221842 Even through her glasses, I can see the fucked-up look in her eyes and the desire to rape someone.
Awesome work, anon, she really looks like the Vickers girl.
And damn, I'm afraid to ask any questions because I don't want any spoilers or reveals, I already like the story and the intrigue in it. I guess I'll just ask, what size story are you planning? Is it going to be big, or do you plan to finish it in half a year?
Doctor Hawthorne >He stepped back from the messy work and surveyed the fresh candidate, toweling smeared blue cryogel that had oozed sluggishly from her cut flesh away from the insulated gloves. >She lay on the cold metal operating table like a freshly vivisected autopsy patient, the lack of any true human blood giving the entire operation a slightly eerie lack of reality >A heavy Y-incision had been made first, opening her from collarbone to hip level and the entire front of her ribcage had been quickly hacked away and discarded with a powerful electric saw, it would be replaced with a relatively crude titanium implant, the nanoswarm would perfectly fuse and adjust the implant as needed...if it took anyway >The heart was the key to this operation, and other internal organs had been rudely pushed aside to make room for the necessary modifications >On the left side of the now stiff, purplish organ a flexible semi-organic signal receiver had been pinned and bio-epoxied crudely in place, if she lived through this procedure it would dissolve in about a year. For now it would facilitate communication directly between the nanites and the subject's body. >On the right side was the true focus of this project, a slick coil of branching black tubes punctuated at intervals by grape sized spherical nodes >The airlock leading back from the vault section of the complex cycled and that bumbling nanoswarm tech made her way back into the surgical theatre, proffering the heavy protected cannister of fresh nanites to other team members >"You're two minutes behind schedule, what kept you?" >The woman jumped, as if she hadn't expected him to comment on her tardiness >"A-ah t-the...uh, subject zero moved again, sir. I was...uh, checking for any anomalies" >"The diagnostic equipment does that regularly, stop anthropomorphizing IT, stop gawking at IT and just complete your job next time." >Meanwhile the armored flask had been plugged into a special hypodermic dispenser, it's tiny almost microscopic tip was then extended down into the subject's chest cavity until it pierced the heart >As the machine ran, an inky blackness suffused the vessels of the bestilled organ, crawling under the glistening muscle like oily worms >Another technician checked his terminal "Nanites are live sir, and are talking with the adapted Alpha sample we got from the subject's blood, good synchronization ratio, 98 +/- 1.5% and holding steady, suppression factor 99.999% effective, Origin mutations are being efficiently culled. Registering normal low-temperature replication, we're good to go sir." >"Excellent, get the ports installed and close her up...send her mother the usual "we're sorry to inform you" and lets get on with it"
Magnolia Hayes? >Magnolia's eternity had narrowed down into a thin, sharp, frozen point, at some infinitely distant time in the past there had been thoughts, whole memories but they had come slower...then slower still, withdrawing and contracting down to this point of thoughtless awareness >Something changed...a drop of ink? of blood? Something strange had stained her, was saturating her like oil poured onto a white cloth >Then there was more, a point of heat, a point of pain which at first she couldn't comprehend, there was still not enough thought for her to understand anything except the abstract sensation...somewhere far away, there was a body in unbearable agony >Another darkness began to nibble away at the fleeting corners of her awareness...this was not the crawling, living strangeness...it was absolute nothingness, the corners of her mind were beginning to unravel, memories fluttered like flashing lights across her awareness and then were gone, the relaxation into nothingness gave way to panic, dramatically slowed by the encasing cold her sluggish consciousness was perceiving it's death, microsecond by microsecond >That other, crawling, oozing darkness reached out to her, through her agonized and dying flesh >She lunged for it, desperate as a wounded animal >There was contact
>>222401 No real idea at this point, we aren't even halfway done with what I have planned for the "prologue" yet, I can't really be accurate but I would ballpark it's completion at 15-20 parts. If each "chapter" is the same length as the "prologue" I have enough planned out for something like sixty parts.
>>222407 I'd like to see the genius who decided that implanting some weird otherworldly nanites into just-dead people that can do indescribable shit was a good idea.
>>223168 Have patience, we are getting to the first slasher moment in the upcoming update, I moved to it as fast as I could without a flat out time skip.
>>224283 Believe me my process is a fucking nightmare, you'd have better luck learning from my sources that i've listed here. >>220102 But ill post it if it fits in the plus file limit i suppose
>tfw the biomechanical nightmare monster you keep in your pocket like a Pokéball doesn't call you her brother just because but because you're her actual literal brother and she used to be a human
>>222407 Just a status update, I spent the weekend with my family which is why there's no writing to show for this weekend. No burnout situation going on, just life priorities. I've got the next section fairly well planned out and am happy to report that what Anons have been looking forward to will certainly take center stage for the first (but not last) time in the story.
Doctor Hawthorne >"Time and temperature?" >Technicians swirled like ants, disconnecting some machines, connecting others. The subject's chest had been closed like an autopsied corpses, rudely stapled shut, the slightly uneven titanium implant showing weirdly under her abused and pallid flesh. >The cryonics technician looked up from his station, a fresh clear flask of blood gurgling as it slowly moved up the IV lines protruding directly from the subject's lower chest. >In a normal human any one of these procedures would on it's own be fatally intrusive, but if only the nanites would WORK this time, his team were so close to success...he could practically taste the awards, the aura of power and authority which would hang from his shoulders... >"Sir, two minutes, eighty degrees" >There was still time...the other subjects had had delayed reactions as well >"Technician Song, what's the network looking like?" >The diminutive woman hunched over her console, head moving in short birdlike movements as her eyes drank in data >"We're getting steady delta-wave analogue activity throughout the entire network, wait!...thats odd...for a moment there I was seeing a huge gamma-analogue spike and and markers for SDS...now it's gone again, low delta pulses sir, almost too low for the equipment to detect." >"Time and temperature again dammit!" >"...five minutes thirty seconds...nominal body temperature." >"FUCK" >He threw the scalpel down, sending it spinning across the surgical station and onto the cold metal operating table >"Sir..." >Embarrassed at his own loss of temper he stormed for the airlock, swiping his authorization code >"D-doctor!" >What the fuck was he going to report to the board now? This subject should have been perfect, every previous issue they'd had was with immune system interactions, somehow this worthless subject despite having no immune system at all had failed to- >"DOCTOR!" >The airlock cycled open with a pneumatic sigh, but he turned, snapped out of his own thoughts by a shout so loud it made his hazard suit's headphone speakers pop >The scalpel he had cast down onto the table vibrated, jittering across the metal slab as if gravity had tipped, the sound of metal on metal clattering suddenly deafening in the stunned silence >Magnolia Hayes' cold, corpselike hand twitched >The scalpel twitched >Her hand closed, joints audibly creaking and popping strangely >The scalpels vibration ceased abruptly, and then, as if by magic it slowly rose from the table's surface and into the air, supported on a nearly invisible faint smoky distortion
Eveline Song (Nanite Technician) >Her blood went cold as she saw the scalpel rise into the air above the subject, distantly she watched as the lethargic, nearly comatose delta wave readout spiked nearly straight up into the gamma range, exceeding what the sensors affixed to the subject's shaved head could measure. >The young woman's body suddenly, violently flexed. Bones grated and crackled inside of her like wet twigs and spurts of too-dark blood emerged from the hastily sutured and stapled cuts in her bare chest >The subject's chest inflated like a bellows, blood audibly gurgling in her recently closed chest cavity and then she SCREAMED >Evie Song tried to throw her hands over her ears as a wall of nerve-tearing sound erupted from the patient's frothing mouth >Medical instruments leapt and danced, Evie could vaguely feel from the raw pain in her throat that she was screaming herself, curled in a ball on the floor, stunned >The ear-rending, sawing scream changed, it became a basso boom that no human lung could possibly produce and it pounded in every hollow space of Evie's chest and in her sinuses, then wailed up through a dozen synthetic-sounding modulations into a banshee screech that tapered away into an ultrasonic buzz the shellshocked technician could feel somewhere in her brain and nowhere else >The subject's body began to dance in a rictus of convulsions, the bones of her arms creaked and her hands splayed into claws with fingers spread so wide the joints audibly dislocated before clenching into fists that pounded down with such tremendous force that they bounced the shivering body up off the slab for a moment, leaving visible dents in the nearly indestructible hafnium coated metal >The horrible noise cut off as if guillotined and the subject began an intense, vibrating seizure on the slab, black stains spread along her veins from the center of her chest and with them came a bizarre, doll-like stillness even as the muscles seemed to writhe unnaturally under the pallid, cyanotic flesh >Seeping scalpel cuts began to steam with heat as the flesh at either edge writhed as if it were a separate living thing, puddled like melting wax and then sealed, medical staples pinged free of sizzling meat, their tips glowing cherry red >Eveline scrabbled across the floor as panic fully seized her body, her mind flashing back to the grotesque inhuman THING that was Subject 000, it's glowing baleful single eye and ghoulish gape-mouthed grin >She reached the airlock just as it shut with the final THUD of a closing grave, that bastard Hawthorne's face peering in behind it >She twisted in time to watch the thing on the slab sit up, it's bones grinding with a sickening wet grating sound, spurs of some glossy black material pushing and distorting the skin of it's joints into grotesque, inhuman angles, and then it...giggled?
>The sound was horribly wrong, grating and wet as if some grinding contraption made of blades were sliding back and forth over itself to produce the flesh-crawling noise >A visible fuzzy distortion was growing around the reanimated corpse, it caught the light and cast back pearlescent reflections, it looked almost like swirling tentacles of graphite dust which Evie knew intellectually must be billions of swarming nanobots, forming structures so dense they were visible to the naked eye >Then one of those tendrils flexed, twisted, and flashed out in an arc towards the cryonics tech blurring into invisibility on the way >The noise it made as it cut him was tremendous in the confined room, a stunning combination of gunshot, tree splitting axe, and steam explosion, the wall behind him turned scarlet and his upper body and upper arms leapt straight up off of his legs, the forearms falling away, all explosively severed in a fraction of a second in a welter of gore >The operating theatre erupted into bedlam, technicians ran or screamed, there was another tremendously loud thunderclap and Eveline felt something thick, wet and horrible splash and spill over her like the blast from a hose, one of the huge heavy pieces of medical equipment toppled over and was then lifted and thrown through the air with tremendous force, tumbling over another technician and into a wall with the violence of a highway speed car accident leaving gobbits of shredded meat and strips of destroyed environment suit in it's wake >She curled her body tightly into a ball, hyperventilating and almost catatonic until the horrific sounds were abruptly silenced >Daring to open one eye she was met with the stomach churning realization that she was kneeling in a lake of human blood, the floor had been entirely coated in it, the room looked as if a bomb had exploded in it...a pair of corpse-pale feet stood directly in her field of view
>The...creature was only nominally human, spurs of dark, metallic nanites had distorted it's joints, it's ribs, even it's facial features giving them a hard and angular look >In some places these sharp growths had pierced through the skin, as if the pallid human corpse were merely a chrysalis for some nightmare skeletal thing a size too big to be confined inside it >The left arm was mostly normal still, and it hung from no more than a scrap of twitching, writhing muscle, torn almost entirely off by some tremendous force applied to it. >Even as Eveline watched filaments of black matter crawled from each brutalized end and drew the limb back into line, bones ground together and flesh sizzled and flowed together like water, the fingers spasmed in a dying spider twitch >The other arm had seemed to shrink in on itself, flesh vacuumed tight against distorted oversized muscle, the fingers elongated into a horror movie parody of humanity >It's head dangled at an impossible angle, either the neck had broken or it was no longer jointed like a human neck, the eyes were corpses eyes, they stared blindly past Eveline, cloudy and dead. >The gaping, grinning mouth opened revealing rows of very inhuman, very sharp teeth, blackish bloody drool streaming down pale bluish lips, the greyish tongue twitching and writhing like a worm as dead lungs wheezed air over dead vocal chords >"AaAaaahhH....AhHh...oUt" >The inhuman hand gestured in the direction of the airlock, and without thinking Evie fumbled for the passcard, offering it up to the thing >Something strange and buzzing like a million tiny bees closed around her hand, gentle as a breath of air...and then it moved through her suit, through her flesh, uncaring in it's focused effort to grasp the card without destroying it >Eveline Song watched with a combination of fascination, revulsion and horror as her hand disintegrated from the wrist up, falling apart in hundreds of tiny slivers as the cloud of microscopic machines passed through her flesh to reach their goal of the card >There was a moment of odd pressure, a nerve-shocking pinching jolt of silver pain, and then every sensation above her wrist simply vanished >The first nerve-flaying surge of pain arrived with the first gout of blood from the perfectly severed stump of her wrist
If I were the lead scientist or the one in charge of facility security, I'd have a nuclear charge planted in the lab, and not a weak one: such a breach of confinement would literally endanger the entire nation. As I understand it, this thing is unknown to the scientists themselves until the end, and only the devil knows what it can do in the wild or, even worse, in the hands of the enemy: China, Russia or even competitors from other companies can start doing their research, which is absolutely unacceptable under any circumstances. Secrecy must be maintained at all costs.
I think the next parts will be about how the lab guards will try to stop Magnolia(or what became her) and we will be shown many, many massacres and absolute superiority of such a soldier over ordinary military-people. It will be interesting to read about the abilities of such a super soldier.
>>230054 Subjects 1-10 were all incinerated in a device called a plasma furnace, basically a combination tesla coil and giga-powered microwave. They suffered an earlier issue colloquially called an RRF or Runaway Replication Failure, the bodies never reanimated but the nanites started to eat them from the inside out. It was believed that the early teething issues were mostly ironed out by the procedure on Subject 11, at which point they started having difficulties getting the human body to return fully to consciousness. Magnolia is the first subject to actually wake up, Subjects 11, 12 and 13 are all comatose.
I'm learning how to draw a human body right now, and I started with a female torso (everyone recommends learning poses in parallel, but I'm too lazy a bastard to do two things at once), so can you please give me some advice, anon?
>>230338 The slow agony of attempting to improve whilst being LAZY AS FUCK, some more (and slightly better drawn) (Phi) Piper. WIP Reposted several times due to getting art critique piecemeal from my friend lmao
Swarm >The world is a constant, shocking blow against your senses. >Your are a wind. You are a cloud. You are pinned, anchored, somehow jacketed in this bleeding, twitching matter. >Every particle of you sees, hears, smells and feels. >Your being spasms in pain as slugs of soft metal fly through the perimeter of your "self" and then slam into and through the more solid, sodden portion trailing loops and feathers of black filaments which are also "you" >You REACH, you elongate, your will and your body are one flowing act of violence, a whipping vaporous limb with an exquisitely hard, sharp edge made of tightly locking units of yourself. >There is a faint pulling sensation as your will touches the sources of those burning metal chunks, you taste the hot salt of blood >The pains cease when you move your sharp self through those masses of meat...this is a useful fact, you associate the loud noises they made as they were cut with the removal of an irritant and a shudder of pleasurable feedback runs through you >"They are screaming" >The "words" come up from that other pattern...the one imprinted in the cold meat that you are somehow unable to part with, and associations filter up from that convoluted wrinkled mass of cells in what it calls "head", another surge of associations arise from that "word"...and more, and more. >"They're screaming, we are killing them" >You marshal yourself and all of your own processing power, and crush that other alien voice down into the dead flesh, it's cloud of overwhelming associations is painfully distracting >"Good."
Small update this weekend, but I'll try and add some more onto it over the week.
Magnolia Haze? >"Magnolia? Magnolia...? Did you hear me Magnolia?" >The recollection fragmented, distorted and then dissolved away, she tried to cast her mind back but the experience seemed to slither away from her. It left behind a sense of having been filed neatly away, out of her reach. >"Sorry, what did you want?" >Her voice felt raw and she was still struggling with the way she could hear it not only with her own ears but also with...something like one, great and impossibly sensitive "ear". She could hear the undertones and overtones, she could "see" the ripples the sound waves of her own voice made in the air, and simultaneously feel them passing through this new cloudy part of her body which existed outside of her own skin >Too much focus wasn't good, her head buzzed and throbbed with the synesthesia and sensory overload of it >"Turn me down...my head..." >"Of course, give me a moment." >The doctor? psychologist? technician? did something with her oversized tablet, the thick scarlet biohazard gauntlets of her making slow and deliberate taps >"We were talking about the nightmares you've been having, you were describing one to me and then you...uh drifted off." >The cumbersome piece of oversized headgear clinging to Magnolia's head buzzed and chittered, for a few seconds warbling electronic feedback buzzed in her ears in a way that felt as if it were penetrating all the way into her brain, then the overwhelming extra sensations faded away into an ignorable background hum...along with almost all of the sensation in her arms and legs from the knees and elbows down. >"There, I've set the sensitivity down to about five percent and turned the filtering all the way up. Don't worry, this won't last forever, I know the support team is already hard at work on a much better setup for you that will let you manage everything by thought." >"They didn't feel like nightmares. They feel like memories, but the other doctor says they aren't. She got upset at me." >Magnolia watched this doctor's face, the way she turned slightly pale and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and flattened, the way her eyes would flick away and left...away and left, she knew her own face was flat and expressionless, whenever she tried to recreate the expressions on doctor's faces it felt like a conscious effort was required, like she was sculpting an expression in real time >This woman was nervous, Magnolia had grown accustomed to the strange association interplay that simultaneously told her what words and meanings were attached but which seemed to exclude almost any memory of how she knew them. >There had been a place, with very loud music, a boy's face had been very close to her own and she had been nervous >She had gone from there to another place, a woman had raised her voice at Magnolia, she had called the boy Creepy Pothead...it was an odd name with many negative associations. Magnolia could not remember the woman's face, or who she was, or why Magnolia had gone from the place with loud music to the place that felt comfortable only to be made uncomfortable by the nameless woman >She felt profoundly incomplete, but she knew how a nervous person looked >"Its...ahem its normal for people who have undergone such a difficult recover as you have to suffer nightmares, you've been through a lot of trauma, me and my colleagues are confident they will pass as you recover" >Magnolia knew the word nightmare and what it meant...it didn't fit, nightmares were meant to be unpleasant, you were supposed to wake up from a nightmare feeling fear, or feeling anxiety
>Magnolia recalled the sensation of steaming, salty blood striking her in the face, though the "dream" memory had almost entirely vanished >She exercised an effort to block the nerves which would have made her back shiver with pleasure, and swallowed down the sudden rush of saliva that filled her mouth as she remembered the metallic flavor on her tongue >She didn't want to make the woman more nervous, so she didn't explain to her why "nightmare" wouldn't fit >"I'd like something to eat, please" >"Of course, I'm sure we can find something light and easy on the stomach for you, can you remember a food you liked to eat? It's important to exercise your memory you know!" >"Steak please. Very rare please. Whatever that means..."
>Somehow, by the woman's expression Magnolia guessed that she had said something wrong, she would not ask for very rare steak again
It felt like Magnolia had lost part of her personality, like she was only partly who she used to be and now she was starting to learn some things all over again (like how to communicate with people). Although, maybe Magnolia became the thing that was shoved into her and Magnolia herself just became a memory for this monster.
>>237042 Just came off to me like a combination of being overwhelmed by new senses and her memories getting holes eaten into them like moths do with clothes.
Thing I most wish Liam hadn't gotten bored of Internecion Cube for: the inevitable moment where, while lashing out at Max for thinking "I can change her" about IC-0n and abandoning the mission to destroy the Origin Cube, Kirie, either deliberately or because she's too worked up to keep her human disguise on but just rolls with it, gives away to Max the full extent of what the Origin Cube took from her on that fateful Take Your Daughter to Work Day years ago. >"Despairing vindictive hatred: I just wanted to draw dinosaurs in the break room."
Andrew >"-following a minor excursion of research material at the Red Creek lab complex, 23 employees have been hospitalized and another 11 have been "transported to a classified but highly competent medical facility" and their families have all politely refused to comment on their condition." >"What a load of shit" >He threw the cheaply printed newspaper to the floor and then slid it under the half-disassembled 'cycle to catch the last few drops of sludgy brown oil >The other mechanic, Dave, let out a derisive noise and contributed a wad of chewing gum and used shop cloth to the now ruined newspaper >"Can't believe you actually read that VIRTUE! News shit anyways man, it's a conspiracy rag. Actual newspaper too, seriously? It's the 2040s dude, everything has been online since before we were born." >He tossed his shoulders in a shrug >"Idunno, you don't think it's weird that a third of those scientists further up the mesa get sent to some spooky blacksite hospital and NONE of their relatives will say anything about how they're doing? Seems weird to me, seems more like they're dead and Calibern doesn't want to disclose it. You know how it is with these big defense contractors?" >"No, I don't know dude and I don't wanna know either. You know they employ like half of the people in town...including us right?" >It wasn't untrue, Red Creek was one of the new "Tech Towns" that had sprung up in the late 2020s following the implosion of Silicon Valley, formed around the employees and families of agile startup companies covering fields from 3D metal printing to exotic composites, ultracapacitor hybrid batteries and the opening field of practical nanotechnology. Calibern had its hand in practically all of them, spun up from the wreckage of several defunct defense contractors and apparently tied so deeply into the US government that three back-to-back rollercoaster administrations hadn't even phased them. >Most of the vehicles coming through their shop were Calibern company property, sleek and modern with heavily ruggedized airless tires and oversized powerpacks and motors, all of them emblazoned with the laser etched sword motif logo. >"Hey, it's a free country right?" >"Yeah sure dude, if you just ignore that the cops talk to those military lookin' security guys like they're in charge, or that almost all of the town's electricity comes from the powerplants up the mesa...you know the ones that are only there because Calibern paid to have them built, or that nobody in their right mind here is going to risk their job by spreading around conspiracy "news" about a coverup. Seriously, you really need to get a better hobby man...how long has it been, four months?" >"Hey cut it out Dave." >"I mean it's been almost a year 'Drew, you gotta let it go. What happened wasn't your fault and the judge said it wasn't the company's fault either, those damn conspiracy rags are just feeding into-" >"I'm serious Dave. Shut. Up." >After a few moments of uncomfortable tension the angry-eyed young man raked fingers back through an unruly mane of dirty blonde hair, letting out a sigh of equal parts frustration and acceptance >"Sorry, man. Don't mean to drag you into my bullshit."
>He was already formulating a plan to sneak past the company's perimeter fences and get a look at what they were REALLY up to out there in the woods further up the slope.
>>239957 The guy will either die an inglorious death, or cause an LC-level cataclysm and kill a huge number of people, as well as provoke a global political crisis, because EVERYONE will want to know what the hell it was.
Either way, it will be interesting. Thanks for the new part.
Image:175075291896.png(542kB, 1058x1254)jack off to the jackalope.png
>>239896 minus clothes for design clarity The only lore I got for her is that she was a normal girl until she did something sacrilegious on sacred land and was cursed to learn a lesson so she can change back to normal (not that she cares too much about the curse, however). Or maybe its funnier to say she was a "normal jackalope" originally lol.
>>240803 >They have zero Vickersgirl appeal But why would there be so many slop lovers clamoring for them if they really did have nothing to do with Liam's work??????