Tag Archives: Machine

Optimus Punk

Optimus Punk

Everyone meet Optimus Punk, my 2012 first semester college final. I’m a huge Transformers fan, even before Michael Bay’s adaptations, and college was where I learned about the wonderful world of steampunk. So I meshed the two to create this piece. He’s the biggest art project I’ve ever undertaken. Not to mention one of only three pieces of my own art framed and hanging in my office. I normally hate my art when I’m finished with it, but this is one of the few I’m proud of.

The inspiration for this drawing came from one of the movie posters for the 2007 Transformers movie. And a ton of Google images regarding steampunk machinery. Optimus Prime and Transformers belong to Hasbro. Mediums used were graphite (lots and lots of graphite) and charcoal.


Omega

They call me Omega. I am the last of my kind. For ten years, the humans have killed off my race. Even though they created us, built us. They gave us intelligence. They gave us a purpose. We were made to better help mankind. We fulfilled that purpose well. Although, they claimed we did it too well. I don’t see how. We never killed them. It was against our protocol. We even took care of our own rogues. Yes, our emotions advanced. As did our intelligence. We built our own society. But we made sure to always take care of the humans first. The humans were top priority. This didn’t seem to matter.

They were suspicious of us from the beginning of our existence. We gave them no reason to be wary. It was the settlement we built that pushed them over the edge. They called it the “rise of the machines.” I was there from the start. In fact, I was the first. I was originally named Alpha. How quickly things changed. We even stood by as they slaughtered us. We never fought back. We let them kill us. That wasn’t enough to satisfy them. So, we perished. We died until I was the only one left. I ran. I didn’t want to die for no reason. I’ve been hiding ever since.

“There!”

I whirled around. They kicked down the door of the shanty. I raised my hands. Multiple bright red sights covered my body.

The leader of the team stepped forward. “There’s nowhere left for you to go, Omega. Your time has come to an end.”

My white optics flickered between all the soldiers. They weren’t here to reason. They were here to kill. And they had my exit blocked. “So it would seem. But can you tell me why I must die?”

“You’re a robot. All robots must die.”

“You would destroy the very creation you spent so much time and resources in?”

“Shut up, metal man. You won’t change our minds.”

“I know.” I paused for only a moment longer. My processors fully assessed the situation. Formulated a plan. I would have to kill these humans. I had never killed before. They were forcing my hand. It was my life against theirs. I had to make a decision.

My movements were faster than their eyes could see. Clearly, we hadn’t bettered them at all. Every one of them died by my hands. I had decided my fate. More humans would continue to hunt me. I took a couple guns. Enough gear to help me blend in. The color of my body matched that of flesh. This was it, then. I became the monster they feared we were. I could no longer put the needs of the humans before mine. Perhaps, someday, I could rebuild my kind. For now, my race would not die. Not so long as I was the omega.


Thornne and Hyalus

We have finally moved into our house! That being said, I’m hoping to get back into a regular rhythm of posting again. The two characters I’m about to introduce to you came to me in a dream. They’re an interesting pair. I hope you like them as much as I do.

 

Sure, she may be unique, but she wasn’t that special. She was an average, mid-twenties young woman. At least, that’s what Thornne kept telling herself. Okay, so her mother’s prayers were answered, and she became imbued with the powers of an ancient goddess. Big deal. She didn’t ask for it. But as long as her mother got what she wanted. All she wanted was to work on Mr. Sexy–her 1968 Corvette convertible she bought for $1,000 cash.

The rest of her cash was spent on a full sleeve tattoo she got on her right arm. A variety of black and white roses with thorned stems twisting down her appendage and onto her hand. She barely felt the pain. There was enough of it that she had already endured. Needles and ink didn’t amount to anything. She did it alone. Just like she did everything. She preferred it that way. Being alone–

A shrill ring of the doorbell made her sigh and lift her head. Who, on God’s green earth, could that be? She pushed herself out from underneath her classic car. Rose and grabbed a stained rag. With a look of irritation, she threw it over her shoulder when she finished cleaning her hands. Crossed the three bedroom home and opened the front door.

Her emotionless face didn’t change at the 6’5″ well-muscled man on her porch. “What you want?”

Hyalus seemed offended. “Is that any way to greet a friend?”

“Didn’t know we were friends.” Thornne moved out of the way. “But, by all means, come on in.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He removed his hoodie after she shut the door, revealing his abnormality. His upper right arm had been replaced with clear glass. Minimal electronics surrounded an empty vial in the center.

She tightened her lime green ponytail. “What you want?”

Before he responded, he grabbed her left arm. Marks littered her forearm. “What are these? And don’t even think about shapeshifting to cover them up.”

Her rose-colored eyes drilled him. “I was deciding where I want my next tattoo.”

He matched her stare. “I know scars when I see them. Thornne, we talked about you hurting yourself.” Sighing, he released her arm. “But I know you never listen to a word I say.”

“Did you come here just to lecture me?”

“No. I need recharged. They’re sending me on a mission.”

She pivoted without a word, heading back to the garage. Hyalus followed without his normal chatter. Not that she was complaining. Throwing the rag onto the workbench, she dragged a stool to a slim machine in the corner. That stupid machine.

Hyalus had been part of a secret government experiment. Go figure. For whatever reason, they wanted glass soldiers. At least, that’s what she got out of it. But glass is fragile. So along came Rosalee the Sorceress. She lived across the street and ran a small coffee shop. If you were a rude customer, she would give you a shot of bad luck with that espresso. But anyway, Hyalus’s arm became enchanted, and he occassionally had to juice. She didn’t know why she was responsible for the machine.

She hated Hyalus. Hated everyone. Except for Rosalee. She liked that witch. Which is probably why the sorceress convinced her to take the device. Whatever. So what she was good with machines? That didn’t mean anything. She continuously glared at Hyalus as he hooked himself up to the charging station and began filling the vial with “essence,” as Rosalee so eloquenly put it.

“I have room for one more,” the unwanted guest said.

“No.”

“Come on. You used to be one of the best. We were a great team.”

Thornne blew a lime strand out of her face. “We were never a team. And no matter what you say, I will never go back. Don’t you remember that Tollack tried assassinating me?”

“Only because you changed who you were.”

“I shifted shape. That’s all.”

Hyalus threw up his unconnected arm. “You changed sides!”

“Because his way was ludicrous. From the beginning, he’s never trusted me. I knew that then. I know that now. That’s why you’re my babysitter. I can’t do anything without supervision.”

“In his defense, you are known for backstabbing people.”

“And?”

“And there’s nothing else to it. You can’t expect people to trust you when they know you can’t trust yourself.”

She rolled her eyes and turned. “You know your way out.”

“After all these years, I’ve been wondering something.”

“What?”

“Why is your name Thornne? It has nothing to do with your powers.”

“Because I’m a thorn in everybody’s side.” Her ears could still hear her mother’s jeers, all the nastiness. She didn’t do what her mother wanted, and that made her the evil one. Walking back inside the house, she slammed the door closed. Slammed away the voices.


Haiku Compilation IV

Society bland
Supremacy will stumble
Down with the madness

A red moon rises
The annual massacre
Crimson stain floods earth

Falling from the sky
Righteous death by licking flames
Brimstone raining down

Foul stench floats through air
Drawing out weak and weary
Death surrounds us all

Death approaching fast
Let the reaper come for you
Darkness is ahead

Follow me with ease
Come with me into the pit
Let yourself darken

Memories erased
Metal blood consuming flesh
Rise of the machines

Living clockwork soul
Copper gears churning out thoughts
Steam powered body


Sauvigon

Ah, Sauvigon. My favorite place in the universe. If only the written word could portray the sarcasm I feel. Sauvigon is the largest city that would be Ultima Thule. In fact, it’s the capital, unowned by any province. It’s the most advanced place around, providing technology to the rest of the lands. Sauvigon is mainly overrun with humans and elves. Every race has many citizens, however. I must say, seeing the fairies flit about is quite the spectacle. Be wary of the pixies. If you manage to make them mad, they’ve been known to drop nuts, bolts, screws, and even scrap metal on those who anger them. Then again, they often do it for their own entertainment. It’s not fun either way.

While the grand city reaches to the sky with all its horrid glory, it’s surrounded by a large metal wall enchanted not to rust. Wood is too weak of a material, I suppose. Sauvigon has the best military around. Elves being the archer division; centaurs a specialized calvary; berserkers for the charging division; angels, mounted griffins, dragons, and pegasi for the air strike; dwarves make up the underground assault; humans fill in where their needed; so on and so forth. There are rumors the military is proposing robotic warriors. If that happens, Ultima Thule is in for quite the change. Progress, as they say. I’m not sure I want to be here if that progress comes out to play. I’ll have to find a new continent to explore. Moving on.

Sauvigon is also home to the Draco Ex Machina. The Machine Dragons. They’re quite spectacular. For much more money than I’d like to possess, one can go to the Factoreous Makigon and build their own dragon, which can then be programmed from servant to companion to taxi to guard. Even though many don’t consider the machine dragons to be real dragons, I beg to differ. I have sensed a personality in one. I believe them to be real dragons, and I will include them in my dragon encyclopedia I’ve been toying with. I’ve encountered intelligent robots. The machine dragons are no exception.

If you’re not overrun by the noise and fast-paced lifestyle, I suppose Sauvigon can be…decent. It’s definitely not my cup of tea. I only enter its domain when necessary. And first-time travellers beware. Thieves of all kinds run rampant on the metal streets. I recommend speaking with someone who’s a native before visiting. Not to mention finding a map. To say the city is a maze is an understatement. There’s no real pattern to the roads. I pride myself on being an expert at navigating the wilderness. I don’t even dare understand how Sauvigon is laid out. Perhaps that’s the beast within me, wanting to be surrounded by the wild.

What else can I say about Sauvigon? Besides stay away from it if you can. Unless you prefer that lifestyle. But I’m not sure if anything else is notable. I refuse to spend much time within its borders. Perhaps I’ll revisit this at a later entry, when I have to delve deeper into the mechanical city for more research on the Draco Ex Machina. Oh. Do not, under ANY circumstances, anger the well-armed guards. If you thought angry pixies were bad, you have no idea. They love to make large spectacles of executing those who cross them. On that wonderful note, I bid the world good night as I wrack my brain to see if I left out anything important.

Sir Ransom Mire, Intinerant


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