FrozenDeath

Did I team with you last night Max? My corruptor is Kinkertoy (fire/pain dom).

Hiya,

I have commission options in that price range. Check out the link in my sig, rates are on the front page.

Here is a recent example.

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I've noticed alot of people picking up commissions from PlayWorkArt...I dunno, I gotta say Morg that this latest piece kinda pales in comparison to other pieces in your collection. There are foreshortening issues with the left side of the body and the positioning of the shoulder pieces. The wings on Nike aren't aligned with the body's positioning either, and they're not "working". They seem to be just stuck on there. They should be opened up and catching air so she could stay aloft and steady her energy blast. Wings are difficult to draw that's for sure, but imo your character's design is a bit too cool to settle for relatively weak work.

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Your artistic critique is certainly valid, although it strikes me as kind of arbitrary to speak out about this one particular piece. However, I think you're off base describing this work as weak when the guy is practically giving it away. Seriously, what level of perfection do you expect for this price point?

You get what you pay for. A lot of people like this guy, John Becaro, etc. are trying to make some money at cut throat rates. If the overall quality drops, the consumer should be aware and take some responsibility for that outcome.

Happy BDay!

FD scowled folding his arms. "Do I need to say it? What were you thinking?"

Recursive shrugged, shifting the odd child on her arm. "Hey, I just went to take a look around. I didn't know your bachelor pad was a gateway to the underworld or whatever. If it makes you feel any better I've been holding this clingy child for hours now. He doesn't wanna get down."

FD laughed. "That ain't no child."
"What are you talking about? Of course it is."
"Nope. It ain't human at least." He took a step forward. The boy buried his face in Recursive's shoulder.

"What are you talking about? Explain."
"It's got no soul. I can see people's spirit energy inside their bodies. He ain't got none. Nothing. Nada, No light."
"You can see mine?"
"Yeah. It's kinda weird...blurry and brighter than usual but it's there. He's got squat." He lit a cigarette and took a puff, staring at the boy. "How did you find him anyway?"

"Well...um there was this weird...devil guy. He called me over."
"Hahaha you idiot!"
"It said it had been watching this child for a long time.."
"Demons don't sit outside a place watching it for sh**s and giggles. He was probably bound to guard this thing and you relieved it when you went in the room."
"Yeah maybe. Probably. I dunno."
"You're lucky I knew where to look for you."
"How? Jessica knew where I was?"
"Haha no. Proxy. That [censored] is back. Called me this morning."
"Oh wow. Back from the dead."
"Yeah wants us to meet him at a warehouse. He better have some answers this time."


The warehouse perimeter was surounded by a canopy of barbed wire that curved over their heads as they walked along the building. There were remnants of cloth scattered over the surface, vestiges of past attempts to camouflage the walkway in the past. Recursive trailed the others, leading the boy by one hand as he slowly shuffled along. She watched Soft anxiously, wondering if she would again try to butcher Proxy if he appeared.

FD slid a large section of sheet metal wall to the side and they entered into the building. The space was flooded with light from flourescent bulbs above them. Everywhere industrial machines and workstations occupied the floorspace. They wove their way through it until Soft spotted Dr. Proxy on an raised dias making adjustments to a large upright ring of metal.

"A portal?"
FD nodded. "Yeah looks like it."

Proxy turned and smiled at them, then walked off the platform beckoning for them to follow. He was dressed the same. It was definitely the same man. But this version struck Recursive as younger, as much as 10 years younger than the first. He stopped at a large round table, motioning for them to be seated as he reached underneath and pulled up a large black duffelbag, setting it on top.

"Welcome friends. So nice to see you all again." He looked at the boy, who had stopped walking and was dragging his feet as Recursive tried to pull him along. "Even you Toobit. Hahaha come on over you little [censored] you can't get away." Proxy pulled a small light out of his pocket and flashed it extremely quickly, the pulsing light repeating some sort of visual code that synched with the lights on the boys forehead. Recursive felt the boy's body seize up and go rigid, like a wooden plank.

"Can you carry him over here please?"
"What did you do to him?" She gingerly lifted the little body and carried it to the doctor, who laid it on the table. FD laughed.
"What the hell is that thing?"

"This is Toobit. He's a synthetic being from an alternate reality. This particular unit was somehow corrupted...nobody was really sure how or why...but it altered its own genetic code to become extremely powerful. At which point it slaughtered the populations of two cities. See these bars of light on his forehead?" He slid the hood back slightly revealing more of them.

"These are prison markings. The bars recode Toobit's body to force him to regress to the earliest period of development where he did not exhibit sociopathic tendencies, roughly 5 years of age."

Recursive glanced at FD and Soft for a moment. Proxy continued.

"I have put him in a temporary stasis. Later I'll code him to obey my directives. He will come in very handy a little ways down the road."
"Handy for what? Mass murder?"
"Haha yes! Exactly that. But before you have a fit of moral indignation, as ridiculous as that would be in this context, realize that I would employ Toobit in order to negate a far worse scenario."

FD leaned forward. "Ok [censored] I'm sick of this mystery bs. I wanna know what your master plan is and I want to know what it has to do with me. Lay it out!"

The new Dr. Proxy clapped his hands. "Excellent! I have come prepared to do exactly that." He reached down and began to unzip the duffel.

The door swung open smoothly. There was a nightlight on the wall, bathing the room in a cool blue light, dust motes dancing in the glow. There was an arm chair. A table with a lamp. A small glass coffee table. And in the center a massive piece of dark grey stone. A cylindar, the top of which twisted and stepped into a spiral, all of it exactly like an oversized drill bit. The thing stood there in the center, the carpet pristine around it. It hadn't been dragged there.

Recursive slid quietly into the room. The door clicked shut behind her as she searched the corners and sides of the room for other doors. There was a bedroom to the left, a bathroom to the right. She went to the stone, running her fingers over the cool porous surface. She could sense a presence, something hidden inside.

"Hello?"

The object remained dormant.

"Hello? Can anybody hear me?" She tapped the surface with her fingertips. They gradually became dark with a thick grey dust that was accumulating on the surface. She backed away as the air around the stone began to thicken and darken, the surface of the cylindar dissolving into a mist. The dust spiralled around the object, which soon was completely obscured. After a moment, a small row of lights flickered in the center.

"Hi, can you come out please? It's safe."

The dust evaporated, revealing a little person. It was a child, 5 years old at the most. Recursive giggled at his appearance. He was clad head to toe in a silver material that looked just like a stereotypical spaceman uniform. The pajama-like garment covered every part of the child's body except a cutaway section exposing his face. He had pale smooth skin with big glossy eyes, some sort of shiny transparent membrane covering the pupils and whites. The flashing lights were were now visible as glowing vertical bars on his forehead, mostly covered by the hood. The boy rubbed his face with the back of his right forarm, blinked, and then looked at her.

"Hi there. What's your name? Can you talk?"

The boy looked down at his feet, swaying slightly. The lights flickered more quickly for a moment, but he did not respond. Recursive reached out. He hesitated for a moment then took it, going to her. She picked him up and bounced him in her arms.

"How did you get here? Where are your parents?"

Again the lights flickered. She stared at the bars. Most likely the child was speaking, in some sort of visual code through the lights flashing. He made a semicircular mothion with his hands and pointed towards the door.

"You want to get out of here?" Recursive nodded her head "yes." The boy tentatively mimicked the gesture.

"Me too." She carried him doorway and turned the knob, slowly sliding it open. The child buried his face in her shoulder. The door swung open, but there was nothing. No light. No sound. Only solid black. She rubbed his back and let the door swing shut. She turned and carried him back to the center, mulling over her options.

"I guess we might have to wait here for a while."

Zones are a crappy place to learn pvp IMO. Get with some friends, preferably some who pvp regularly, and do some arena matches. Have a knowledgeable person set up matches balanced not only on the ATs/builds, but also on the skill level of the participants. Under controlled circumstances it will be much easier to get a feel for what you're doing wrong and you can get feedback from your friends.

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* The 'vet' PvP'ers whine so much because they have to work now...they don't get it easy just because they built a /regen or nrg/wp stalker. Also, they whine, because in reality... they aren't very good either

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This guy doesn't have a clue. I have no idea what "vet pvpers" he's talking about but the ones I've know for years can be identified, in general, by the fact that they are team players.

And the reason i13 pvp is so bad is because it tries to level the playing field by penalizing team play, particularly healing and buffing.

Guess I better bump this thread. Will have an update soon.

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a thick sticky pot of yummy yum yum

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Hey, just an update:

I still need reference for Ycebergg. I can take ref shots ingame if necessary.

Also I think I'm going to do this one as a 3d sculpt, so in the end it will either be a 3d render or a 2d/3d illustration. I'll use this thread to post wips as I go along. Kind of buried in work atm but hope to get going on it soon.

Tacky_Tricky

Happy BDay sucka!

For concept artists, you should be looking at Conceptart.org or CGtalk.com.
I would also suggest getting a subscription to gamedeveloper magazine and possibly attending the Game Developer's Conference if you can afford to.

My pain domination corruptor gets farmed in Siren's by flying ar/devs. She does pretty good in WB partnered with a decent damage dealer.

Last night, I went into RV on my mind/therm troller. Teamed with an emp and a blaster. We had a lot of people whining for about an hour. Buffing and teamwork still pay off, despite the devs attempts to cater to generic fitklub damage dealers.

I still need ref for Badge and Ycebergg, and a full body shot of Charlie would be helpful if one is available.

If SpongeBob can do it, you can too.

Insomnia


Recursive glanced at her watch. It was 3:00 AM. FD was sprawled on one of the couches under a nest of empty beer bottles, Soft sat on the floor, motionless, slumped against a recliner. Recursive leaned forward.

"Soft....Soft. Are you asleep?"
The green woman remained motionless, small spikes periodically rippling on the surface of her body like goose bumps. She didn't stir.

Despite the late hour, and the lack of activity on the part of her companions, the building was noisier than before. Voices
from the hallways. The sounds of keys turning, doors opening. Recursive got up and went towards the kitchen. She stuck her head in the doorway.

"Jessica? You here?"
She turned in time to see a figure turn and disappear around the corner of the opposite corridor.

"Hello?" She followed. The light grew gradually dimmer, the light bulbs in the wall sconces shimmering as if underwater. The hallway zig-zagged and continued, far beyond what Recursive imagined to be the footprint of the building. She sighed and turned to go back the way she came, but the layout had changed. As soon as she turned a corner, the corridor veered off in a new, unknown direction.

"Well crap. That was stupid." The light continued to darken. The shadows on the walls writhed and danced. She felt, but could not see objects brush past her as she walked. There was a ghostly unlife surrounding her now. She felt unseen eyes everywhere. Watching her. Studying her movements. She turned into a new passage and could see lines of bluish-green lights, blinking and shifting like fireflies. A brighter light appeared in the distance, like a golden lantern hanging from the ceiling. As it moved closer, rows of spectral bodies became visible, their eyes upon her. People dressing in antiquated evening wear, jazz age tuxedos and flapper dresses. Couples going in and out of rooms, their tanslucent figures revealing leering, animated skeletons. The lantern approached. Not a lantern at all, a glowing feeler hanging down from a strange creature that was a mix of Fish and spider. It's hug maw gaped, rows of triangular piranha teeth glinting. It's spindly legs were a flurry as it scampered across the ceiling. Recursive shrank against the wall as it moved past, one of it's immense lidless eyes turning to glare at her as it went by.

"Girl...."

There was someone in the passage behind her. A man? It was too dark to make out the figure's features.

"Human girl...come....here......"

Recursive's skin crawled as her eyes adapted to the gloom. A male figure standing by a doorway. Someone in a tuxedo but the hands were wrong. Something about the head was wrong. She squinted as it struck a match and lit a cigar. The hands were dark and oily, beastial along the lines of a gorilla. The lower part of the face was refined, perfectly human. But it faded into a tangle of tubelike forms that may have been horns or tentacles. The smoke from the cigar emitted a baleful green light, flashing before it's face every time it exhaled. The mouth smiled as she staggered back reflexively. Her pulse pounded in her ears and she found herself wondering about Bulb. Had it followed her to this place?

"Scared? Took me...so long...to look human."
"I'm sorry. You're...not quite there yet."
"Really?....hahahaha......." It took another puff on the cigar. "Do you want a child?"

"Pardon me?"
The figure turned slightly towards the doorway to his left. "There is a child...in the room....hiding..."

"Oh my god..for how long?"
"Long?"
"Yes, how long has the child been in there?"

There was a long pause before the creature replied. It puffed and exhaled several times, explosions of hellish light as the smoke wafted. "In human...time reckoning...maybe one....hundred years...."

"What?! How could a child be here that long?"
"I...devour his thoughts...memories....passage of time..."
"Why..why would you do that?"
"The mortal...mind is fragile...too long to feed...on nothing but itself." The creature suddenly smiled broadly. "He thinks I'm the devil."

"Are you?"
"Maybe...."

The thing made a strange barking noise. Was it laughter? It moved, the shape darting forward in the darkness. Recursive was knocked off her feet. She screamed as she was dragged along the floor, caught in a mass of sinewy flesh, kicking and yelling until she rolled clear of it, the hulking shadowy mass fading down the hallway. She was sweating, locks of hair matted to her forehead as she got to her feet. She brushed them to the side and crept back towards the doorway, a bar of yellow light glinting from the opening underneath. Her hand slid over the grainy surface of the oak until she found the door knob.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" Silence. The knob felt cold. "I'm coming in...."

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I rather like DR...

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I would like it too, if they actually applied it across the board to everything, instead of just shafting support toons.

My pain domination corruptor's aoe heal starts at around 200 and after maybe 5 heals ends up around 20 points a heal. So let's just apply that to everything. After 5 attacks your scrapper is doing twenty points of damage. Your tanker's shields start resisting 20 points of damage. That would be awesome, then everyone could experience DR for the steaming pile of crap it is regardless of what AT they were playing.

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Do you need a pic of Badge or do you have enough references already on DeviantArt?

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I can't seem to find the Badge pics there. If you could toss me a couple links that would be helpful.

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I missed throwing Ura's name into the hat somehow, but then you have already done a wonderful piece of him.

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I can fit him in too. I was looking to include around five anyway.

Ok I guess it's going to be a Badge/Blazing Blue/Ycebergg/Steampunk Charlie-daptoid. As soon as I have reference for everyone, I can start coming up with a design.

FD hotwired a sedan and soon they were driving through the working class neighborhoods of King's Row, on towards the highway and eventually the outskirts of Independence Port. The sky became obscured by row after row of pillbox shaped warehouse buildings, vestiges of industries that had come and gone and now home to cargo shipments and urban blight. Shifty men on the streetcorners eyed the car as it passed, calling out as FD's middle finger peeked out at them through the window. In the shadow of a vacant stamping plant, he abruptly stopped the car in the middle of the street and climbed out. Recursive and Soft watched as he dragged his finger on the hood of the car and left a dark horizontal line that turned into an arrow pointing down.

"This is it ladies. Come on out and see my fortress of solitude." Recursive and Soft opened their doors and slid out into the street. There was nothing but warehouses on either side of the road.

"There's nothing here. And what's the mark for?"
"That's a sign for the locals to take care of this for me. They'll strip it and get rid of it. Come on."

He turned and walked towards the warehouse on the left. He kept walking, passing right through the side of the building. They could hear him calling out from the other side. Recursive shrugged and they followed.

Beyond was an open courtyard lined with old victorian homes and a couple brick tenement buildings to the sides. In the center was an immense, mansion-like building with dual peaked towers on either side of the entrance. A neon sign above the oak double doors spelled "The Majestic". There were no cars on the street. It was oddly quiet as if everything was dampened somehow, the air stiffled. There was an intense scraping sound. The turned to watch a scrap of paper blow across the street.

"Well, watcha think?" Recursive scratched her head.
"Honestly? It feels..wrong." She looked up in the sky. There was a line over the house where the sun and blue of the day ended, sharply turning to grey. "I'm a bit creeped out."
"Well you should be." FD took off his sunglasses. His eyes were black like onyx, whites and all. "I live here. But it isn't really my house. Don't forget that."

The art deco tile of the foyer was dark with dirt and dust but otherwise in very good condition. The rows of copper plated mail boxes still shined in the dim light of a chandolier overhead. Unlike the outside, the interior of the building was full of vague, ambient sounds. Voices. Murmerings. Vague sounds of music and activity. FD led them to an antiquated elevator, sliding the metal cage open and pulling a lever to summon the box to their floor.

"Hey man your back!" They turned towards the voice--a young boy on the oak staircase on the other side of the hall.
"Whattup dood!" The kid came running to FD, eyeing the two women. Recursive pegged him at eight years old.

"She's at it again man! All day long!"
"Aw hell..for real?
"Yep, she wouldn't stop..."

FD reached into his pocket and pulled out the roll of cash Dr. Proxy had given him earlier. He peeled off several hundred dollar bills and handed them to the boy. "Get me some more. See if you can get more of those ones that had the bullseyes on them."
"Ok man, I'll see what they got." The boy ran off down the hall, a moment later they heard the front doors creak and then slam shut. FD stepped into the elevator and then motioned them in.

As the box rose through the shaft, they passed a couple floors that were completely dark, a thick curtain of thick black mist filling the hallway.
"Mmmm dead man no eyes dead with bat baseball bat hmmm strange yes yes?"
"You could see in that Soft?"
"Yes yes yes."
"Security. Gotta keep the kids outta this place so they don't steal everything. It's more serious in the basement."

Eventually the elevator stopped and opened into a large room, like a banquet hall. Overhead skylights with ornate stained glass bathed the space in red and gold pools of light. The middle of the space had a collection of couches and chairs with two entertainment centers. One wall had an immense stereo system with mammoth twin speakers in cases that mimiced upright coffins. Another wall was covered with assorted firearms hanging on brackets. They ranged vintage AK47s to odd, futuristic tubes with no obvious triggers or firing mechanisms. There was a rectangular opening in the middle of the collection's wallspace with words written in red spraypaint:

HEY IF YOU READING THIS..JUS SO YOU KNOW IF YOU TOUCH MY GUNZ I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE AGAIN AND AGAIN UNTIL YOU DIE...OK? HAVE A NICE DAY --FD

There was the sound of a crash coming from the hallway to the left, followed by giggling and humming.
"Jessica! JESSSSSSIIIICAAAAA! I'm home. What you doin in there?"

A woman's voice murmured in the distance. Recursive couldn't make out the words.
"WHAAT? WHAT was that? BISH HOW WAS YOUR DAY?"

"Ohh heeeey bayybeeeee! heeee heeeeee heeeeeee." There where more crashes and the sound of running water.

"I'll be back in a few. You guys just chill out and we'll make a plan."
"You got a girlfriend FD?"
"Nah thats just dark servant. I told her to do some housework while I was gone, that's all. I'll be back in a minute."

Recursive looked over the gun collection as FD left the room. She shuddered.
"Mmm it's kinda cold in here. Are you cold Soft?"

Soft stood still, fingers together staring at the floor. "mmmm she want to know we what we doing here what purpose what what."
"Who wants to know?"
"Mmmmmm speaking to me mmmm death god maybe death supernatural creaturrrrrrre mmmmmmm speaking."
"You are talking to someone? In the house?"
"Mmmmm speaking hear the thoughts hear mmmm hear hear mmm power creature mmmmm owns thisss house."

Suddenly Soft looked up and turned to Recursive. Above her green eyes, another pair had appeared on her forehead. A pair of burning red eyes focused on Recursive.

"Uh Soft..you have..more eyes now."
"The better to see you with my dear." The voice was not Soft.
"I'm...my name is Recursive."

There was a commotion in the hallway. Recursive looked away for a moment and when she looked back the eyes were gone.
"Dark Servant you moron! How many times I gotta tell you DON'T THROW THE PLATES! You use them to carry food. You wash them. You don't break them."
"Oookaay Baybeee. Is cool esse."
"No it's not cool Jessica... you gotta learn this."

A woman entered the room carrying a tray of burritos, pastries, and potato chips. She wore a pink tank top, blue jeans and yellow flip flops. Her body and hair was composed entirely of a purplish smokey energy bound in the shape of a curvaceous female. Her burning red eyes were identical to ones that had just appeared on Soft.

"Everybody, this is dark servant..I call her Jessica. Let's eat something."
"Pleased to meet you Jessica."
"Hi Mmm jessica hi hi."

A black, smokey tendril shot out of the dark servant's mouth and lassoed two of the burritoes. She threw her head back and snapped them into her maw, downing them with one gulp, then smiled at the guests.

"Bbbbuuuuuurrp"

I'm sorry you're having this bad experience with the reception of the design. But this sort of thing happens in art and design quite a bit, where your intentions have a disconnect with how the audience perceives the work.

In a way, the design is a very bold, solid classic superhero design. The main problem, if you want to call it that, is the plus shaped block of color on the chest. It gives a very feminine look to the neck and shoulder area, especially when the shot is a cropped close-up.

The mixture of an overtly feminine, or simply overly refined element, plus the over-the-top use of bold colors and symbols, pushes the design towards camp which is synonomous with "gayness" for a lot of people. His shaggy hair and intense expression exaggerate this reading.

If you changed the chest pattern or gave him some kind of shoulder pad or something, I think you'd lose a lot of the camp vibe people are picking up on. BTW, I personally don't think the character looks gay, because the gay friends I have would have looks like batman or wolverine or something. But it does look campy to me for the reasons I've laid out.

You can post it to any online gallery space, like photobucket, and post the url here. Or you can email it to me at BWCommissions@yahoo.com

"You are friggin CRAZY. Man, you are completely nuts. You wanna die or what?"

Recursive rubbed her arm, peaking out of the office towards the storage room. "Hey, I didn't know talking to her about her past would set her off like that."
"I thought you were psychic or something."
"I can't see the future. I just have...like a really strong sense of intuition. It's usually right. And I can touch people's minds and plant hallucinations, but its on a pretty basic level." She moved away from the door and sat on an office chair.

"Thank god she wants to bang you. As soon as you showed up she snapped out of it and got all doe eyed. She must want your bod pretty bad."

"Hey, you see this? This?" FD tapped his chest. "There will be no banging that with this Mexican. No way. I draw the line with plants and animals."
"Aww come on. Did you see her new outfit? Tell me you didn't like that cleavage."
"Oh hell yeah I like that. It looks good but listen...when they tell you ..as a kid...about the birds and the bees--IT DONT MEAN SCREW BIRDS AND BEES OK? I GOT MY PRINZIPLES."

Recursive laughed. They heard the sound of a crate falling in the storage room.
"I'm gonna go help her."
"Fine. You die that's your problem. And let's get the hell outta here. You and her get your stuff together and we'll go back to my place. I'm sick of sittin around here Proxy can come and find us there."
"Okie dokie."


Soft had a pile of two crates in the corner of the room. She was filling a third, looking for small objects that would fit and meticlously placing them inside, one by one. She made a warbling grunting sound as Recursive stood in the doorway.

"Sorry so magic girl sorry sorry." Recursive motioned for her to come over.
"Come here Soft." Soft went and stood by her side. Recursive lifted her hands. There was a storm of activity as the boxes and bits and pieces shot back and forth across the room, reordering and reassembling until things were as they had been in the beginning. Soft grinned and clapped her hands.

"Soft you don't remember grabbing me do you?"
"No no grab no. Feel heavy now no feel nice now."
"It's ok. Don't worry about it." Recursive ground her teeth slightly, steeling her nerve, then she hugged Soft. Soft patted her back, uncertain of the protocol of the embrace. He skin changed color slightly for a moment then resumed its usual hue. She took Recursive's hand.

"Mmmm fancy girl mmmm can tell maybe can telll mmmmm?"
"What is it?"
"Hunka hunka man mmmm angry mmmm no love for Soft mm no no? True yes true?"
"Umm, I don't know about that..."
"MMm angry hunka man voice say angry word sound like no love no chance chance for love Soft."

Recursive looked into Soft's luminous green eyes and smiled, fingering the edge of the latex at her neckline. "I have a friend who might be able to help."

Soft shuddered a bit. "Oh yes yes yes? Who friend who what friend name?"
"Tequila. The friend's name is tequila." She put her fingers to her lips. "But we need to keep it a secret ok?"
"Ok yes ok ok ok." Soft shuddered again, grinning.

Anyone wanting to participate in this, please get some screenshots of your character ready, if you haven't already done so.