Phase 1 complete

Graduated, Working at Noble, and have a car.
World Domination is on its way. (think I'll have to go to OCC for that)

Oops

Dagger

I like this a lot because its a feasible dagger, Its not very simple to make blades, and the fact that I did so in a clean manner, and its not over reflective (I tend to use reflections to hide flaws)

Seraph

Something I drew in class, and a quick photoshop of it. I wish I could have a tablet, then I could have replicated it with colors instead of an inverted outline to work with. what'ca gonna do, right?

Chapter 1- Comment

The King ran two fingers down the edge of the blade. He was deep in thought, with his crystal eyes staring aimlessly into the bronze reflection of the blade. His other hand gently held the grip of his sword, supporting the weight against his armored knee. The Throne Room consisted of stone baked golden by the sun shining in between the torn crimson curtains. The room was undecorated, save the worn drapes, the stone throne, and two aged stone statues that resembled a dove.
The King himself was covered in armor. He had overlapping shoulder blades, intricate chest, and solid shins. His thighs and arms were covered in rings that looped around the appendege, to allow for fluid mobility. The armor was thick and sturdy, able to take a concussive force or a slashing blade. His face was covered by only a thin piece of armor that covered his mouth and nose, decorated by carvings that symbol power and authority. Two dragons, reached from his ears to the center of the piece of armor and were worn by scratches and dents. His entire armor set was stained golden by the beating sun and were dented by blasting sands or chipped by swinging blades. Under his armor ran red cloth to cover the rest of his body. This was ripped and dirtied, but not faded. What remains of the original body is the hair, forehead, and eyes. The hair was short, spiked downward, and a deep black. His forehead was flawless, except a few shallow wrinkles above his eyes. His eyes were colorless. Black pupils were surrounded by a white Iris. This faceless king resembled the people, but faceless to signify an image instead of a human.
He was silent and emotionless. The King only had spoken when compelled to speak. He gave short answers and if he doesn't answer with a question, he would provide an uncertainty. He was one un-judged, neither convicted of evil intentions, or asserted of good ones. He was not known to have a wife or children to take up his throne, and the only ones who knew his true name are his closest friends. These friends were often the farthest away from him. His commanders, nine of them in total, were the only men he put his complete trust in. He thought carefully about what to say to them, but also held them to a high standard -- to serve the nation with unwavering devotion and bravery. Only those that prove themselves to this standard can make a true ally with this king.
His kingdom was similar to his own motives. The empire was in control of many provinces, and would hold them to their responsibility, but would disown the people of them if they not did not remain completely loyal. Three provinces were in total- West, Southwest, and North. They all provided soldiers to the army, willing or not. The north was in a frozen mountain; its keep was made out of chilled stone blocked bleached by the snow and the diminished sun. The west and southwest provinces were similar to the capital in appearance, but was more focused on the arts and sciences than warfare. They wanted to remain peaceful yet the king drove them to their sworn duty.
The King set his blade into the stone, where a chipped spot provided a nice niche in which he could lean his blade against his throne's arm. The stone was set apart from the rest, perfect in appearance and shape, save the one chip. He stood, and slowly walked across the cracked stones to the drapes, delving into his own thoughts. One of his commanders, a scout, was to report in on the actions of various other surrounding nations. He pushed the curtains to the side and stepped out onto a narrow balcony that stretched the length of the entire room. He rested his armored hands onto the thick stone rail. The balcony overlooked the entire city, to it's wall and beyond.
The City was made out of all the same stone, stained golden by the scorching sun. Markets were made out of make-shift wood and rickety tables. The members of this city were gathered around these markets, mainly women. They were dressed in red and off-white robes. Some had gossamer and transparent pieces of linen covering their mouth, to show that they bonded in marriage. The men that weren't assigned to the barracks had golden outer garments, with nothing covering their faces except if a certain one received a damaging feature.
The King turned his attention from the markets to outside the walls. Sand and dust was being thrown into the air. The scout had come back. After three years of searching for suspicious actions by the surrounding nations, he came back on the same day he left. As a habit of his, this caused the king to gain trust in him, but also an uneasy feeling of action if, for whatever reason, he would come back too late. The King remained in his stance as he watched the rider come over the dune. he only became restless when he saw not one, but nine plumes of dust.
He walked back to his chair, head hanging. He sat down to rest and took his sword. He held the grip and rested his armored chin against the rounded pummel. The king let out a gradual sigh as he relaxed his hunched-over body, diving into deep thoughts of battle and the strategies of his late father. The peak of the battle was where he dreamed of being once more. The fury of war cries and the metallic sounds of blades against armor ran through his mind. The blood-curdling cries of fallen enemies ran his adrenaline, but the anguishing yells of his comrades opened his eyes. He realized that he was king -- a man that must consider what angle a flank would be most effective, and not the angle of a blade. He now stared at the three men in his room, his commanders, his comrades. Yet, he remains as still as a statue, his armor was dead still, even the chains that link together the various pieces of aged metal were still, even though they hung.
There stood his scout. A man of average stature, but shorter than most due to his inherit slouch. This man was slender, but was proportional and had proved to be a warrior. He was ornamented in tightly wound crimson clothes snug against his body. Above these clothes were shoulders, a breast plate, shin guards, and serrated forearms made out of the same material the king wore- aged golden armor, thick and sturdy. The armor had no more of its luster, but had been worn by years of swinging blades. They too were connected by chains of the same metal, and a tattered crimson clothes flowed on the sides of his waist, running down to his knees, but not connecting to provide quick mobility. Made out of the same material ran a cape down his back, also torn and ripped from the spoils of war. He had a black mask on, with no holes in it, conforming to the shape of an undistinguished man. Every inch of this scout was covered with some form of worn red cloth or thick golden armor. He was blind and deaf, but the slightest brush of wind or vibration of movement miles away did not go unnoticed nor unchecked. He had an incredible sense of what seemed invisible to others, but could not notice a standing man. This made him a valuable asset, and a trusting man- for who could make a traitorous deal with one who cannot hear, and will not speak? He can report his findings through a series of hand signals, and can receive commands through a series of taps, but no such commands were given to him that would able him to leave his military life. He remained still, squatting with his fingers on the stone tiles, feeling for movement, feeling for sound.
Standing next to him was a massive man. The size of two men, he stood eight feet tall and maintained massive muscles. He was a giant. He had armor on every inch of him except his face. Not many men could successfully swing or stab that high without leaving himself vulnerable to lower attacks. unlike the scout, he was dressed in large pieces of golden armor, shiny and new, overlapping each other to not leave any part of his body open to attacks. He had a white cape, clean with a red border eloquently stitched into it. This man stood for the image of the king's empire, even if what he represented was something the aspiring peacemaker despised. He lived for the glory of battle. The rush of winning, or the honor of defeat- it was hard to break this man's spirit in battle. He was brutal, known to crush the necks of his own soldiers happen they flee. He often became personal in battle, as if the enemy were against him and him only. His soldiers loved and feared him for this, getting only close enough to gain his trust and far enough away from him to feel as his commander and not a friend. After the gore of battle was over, all previous biases are put aside of his own soldiers that perished and feels personally responsible for their death. This doesn't sadden him, but fills him with honor of that soldier and the fury of revenge. This giant took his claymore, which was as sizable as he was and puts it in between two tiles, kneels on one knee, bows to the king, and rises again.
Beside him somewhat resembled a typical soldier. He was of average stature and had a straight posture with his right foot slightly in front of his left. He was armored with the battered, lusterless bronze armor that the king wore, as did every soldier. He had every bit of him covered in this armor, with a helm that completely covered his face. It only had enough space for his eyes to peer through. Down his back ran a long cape, crimson as the others, but running down onto the floor. It was dirtied by sand, mud, and dirt but had no tears in it due to the tough fabric it was made out of. He stood radiating confidence, something his comrades found to be valuable as a morale boost in the midst of battle. This man preferred to remain away from actual fighting, instead he used his troops in the most effective way. He was a commander on every scale, looking for the best and most strategic method from small skirmishes to grand campaigns. This was the king's closest commander, and closest to what one could call his friend. He grabbed his collar, shifting his armor to make himself more comfortable. He then rested his hand against the top of his sheathed blade, which was what the typical soldier was commissioned. In his other, he grasped the chain that led down to a hanging jewel. the jewel was slightly blue in tiny, and it resembled a luck charm, or perhaps a lover's gift.
The three men stood there, silent. The king continued his stare until his stillness was broken by the giant in the middle. "My Liege", he softly said. "Your provinces are being sieged, and your outer villages are being sacked." The king stirred in his throne, and looked at the other two commanders. "Ury" he said in a monotone. The right commander stuck his gem under his belt, stepped toward the king and said "My troops are ready to leave this afternoon, they're just waiting for your order." The King raised his head and asked rhetorically, "What would you do?". The men knew what this meant. Ury turned to the other two, "Judge, get your troops mobilized, we need to be at the fronts early next week". "Its being done" stated the large man in a deep tone, and walked out of the room, clipping his claymore to his back. Ury walked over to Alson, the scout, and tapped him twice on the shoulder. He rose and left the room, running his fingers along the wall. Ury turned to the king, bowed, and exited.

Explosion of Reality

So, about a month or so ago, I was flipping out about the following list:

getting a job
graduation
getting a car

Right now, I still don't have any of those. But hey- I'm pretty comfortable. why?

I don't have a job.
I'm a senior in High School

...I couldn't think of a benefit to not having a car that's realistic. BUT anyway. Life's good. After about a month of being frustrated with not being able to draw anything worth while, I finally did.
and I'm pretty satisfied with it. I got a new benchmark. I'll post that and my first chapter I wrote a while back. comment!

2005 Subaru WRX STI

mmm...

Cogs

4 omni lights, all with shading. Silver cogs with a fresnel diffuse and reflection. I don't really know what the small tubes are, but I felt like the cogs needed something.

Braaiinns

Without a brain, I'd be a lifeless body. But, its also true that the brain needs a body to live in. However, its much more probable for a brain to live outside a body than a body living without a brain. Given that, It seems the body is just a puppet that gets pulled by the brain. so, Humans are kind of biological robots with a small controller on the inside. Its as if the human race is a bunch of avatars walking around. I believe "Mind over Matter" to a good degree. I await the day someone figures out to control all his body functions, adrenaline, blood flow, lactic acid, etc. The closet thing I can currently think of is Navy seals. They are very capable of control in various stressful situations.

anyway, I don't know what I wanted the point of this to be, but felt like sharing my current thoughts

Mitsubishi Evo's