[Art/Writing] Jairus: Merry Christmas

[Jairus]

Here's part 2, a little short but eh. *shrugs* Okay, me tired. Ask questions if you have 'em, and good night. And yes, those spelling errors in the middle section should be there.

Iron Knight, part 2

...

It is one thing to say that one is going to build a suit of powered armor. It is quite another to actually build it.
I have not been outside in nearly a month. There have been a thousand problems. False starts and stress have left me sleepless at night. This project has been a nightmare. Machines are not my strength. I remember when I was young, and father would test me: it was always the machines I enjoyed the most, because they challenged my skills the most. I find myself in a similar circumstance here.
But it is nearly done. By the gods, it is nearly done.
For the sake of my experiment, I have used an identical suit of armor to the last one. Of course, every mechanical part had to be moved to the outside. Finding the mechanisms' ideal placement has been difficult: the human body is ill-designed for something of this nature. Pressure switches in key locations help the armor move with the wearer, but from the times I've worn it it feels sluggish. It is hot and unwieldy to wear. Entering or exiting it is difficult to say the least: the whole suit must essentially be dissassembled to do either. There are numerous other problems, but these are the main ones that must be overcome.
And it is ugly. This is not a failing of the unit itself, but standing next to the Model I, the first looks superior to it. Every part and mechanism is on display. The slightest twitch of a limb makes a dozen parts move: to watch it walk across the room is a dizzying experience. Without armor, a simple sword blow would cripple it, to say nothing of a bullet. At this point it is still useless for my needs. It is nothing like my dream.
But there is potential here. This is the right choice. I know it. I feel it.
I will begin shaping the armor today. It is good to have Phineas by my side in this: he is becoming as excited in this project as I am. He will not make the best test wearer, but his strength is still invaluable.
"My needs." On reflection, why did I write that down. What is it I need this powered armor to be? A weapon, obviously. But perhaps there is more. I dreamed of an army of these soldiers, not just one. An army of powered armors. What could I accomplish with that? The noble families...
No. I must focus on the task at hand. I do not have a weapon yet. I do not have a knight.

...

WORTHLESS
it iS woRthleSs
abSoluteiy useless
why did I even ever atempt this!

...

Father's fall last week frightened me enough to pull me out of my depression. I have seen it in other Geniuses, when their failures sent them into a depressive spiral. I should have seen the signs and been able to avoid it. I shall be more careful in the future. I do not wish to experience that again.
The Model II simply will not work. The addition of the armor only made its many problems worse. My attempts to fix it ultimately proved fruitless, and only highlighted other problems that I had not considered important enough to solve when I'd begun work on it. I must have dissassembled and reassembled that thing five times before I finally gave up in frustration. I should probably repair the damage to it, and keep it as a reminder of my failings. I am not perfect.
The solution is simple: I shall start over. I was too wrapped up with fixing the unit that I did not realize that it could not be fixed, and that it was not important. The concept is the important factor, not the base components. Yes. The idea can still be saved, and I shall save it.
My greatest regret is that it took Father's fall to make me step back and realize my folly. I feel like time is running out for me. I must complete this armor.

[techmaster-glitch]

Nice, man. Loving the progression of each problem that he has to overcome. It seems just like what a project of this nature would really be like...

Onto the Mark III!

[Jairus]

Nice, man. Loving the progression of each problem that he has to overcome. It seems just like what a project of this nature would really be like...

Onto the Mark III!

Oh, there's more at work here than just the difficulties. Despite Justinian's strength not lying in machines, he is still powerful and brilliant. He could have made an incredible powered armor on his first go. Hell, he might have been able to make a combat robot on his first try. But he didn't... ooh, mysterious.

[techmaster-glitch]

Oh, there's more at work here than just the difficulties. Despite Justinian's strength not lying in machines, he is still powerful and brilliant. He could have made an incredible powered armor on his first go. Hell, he might have been able to make a combat robot on his first try. But he didn't... ooh, mysterious.

Ah, that just means he didn't properly get his Spark on. He's gotta get into a good and deep madness place before he can fix anything

[Jairus]

Oh, there's more at work here than just the difficulties. Despite Justinian's strength not lying in machines, he is still powerful and brilliant. He could have made an incredible powered armor on his first go. Hell, he might have been able to make a combat robot on his first try. But he didn't... ooh, mysterious.

Ah, that just means he didn't properly get his Spark on. He's gotta get into a good and deep madness place before he can fix anything

Oh, I'd argue it's quite the opposite. Him going truly mad Genius on this thing would be counterproductive in the long run.

[Jairus]

Sorry I've not been writing much, but life's been going on. So here's a short story taken from the BioShock universe, basically a segment of gameplay from Jack's hands-on perspective. For the record, I know that the Vita-Chamber does not work this way in the game (it has to be some sort of teleporter in order to justify how it works, and the quantum entanglement idea combined with the lack of a corpse seems to support that), but I went with it for the horror elements. Apologies for the general weirdness, but I wanted to try and capture what it would feel like to be in his shoes. Mature for general not niceness and some swearing. And BioShock is © to 2K games and Irrational Games.

"Raptured"

   I'm trapped in a mad city under the sea.
   Rapture. That's what they call it. You're going to heaven. To paradise.
   It's hell.
   I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm tired. The pistol is heavy in my hand. I've never fired a gun before today. Thirty minutes ago, I was flying home. Mom and Dad won't even know where I am if I die. I'll disappear in a plane crash over the ocean. There'll be a funeral too. But no. I'm gonna die down here, a mile below the ocean, killed by Splicers.
   There's another one. One shot. Missed. Second shot. Got her. Third shot, and she falls. I walk up to her. Her dress was beautiful once. I'm starting to get used to searching the bodies for stuff: she has some bullets on her, and a few dollars. Why does she have bullets when she doesn't have a gun?
   Splicers. Too spliced up with ADAM. ADAM and EVE. Apple of good and evil. Whoever named them had a bad sense of humor. Cast from paradise into perdition. That's Rapture. It was once beautiful, I can tell. Art deco, I think. But these were people. Are they still people? She's hideous. Her skin looks like it's falling off of her bones. ADAM did this, and I've got the stuff in me. Plasmids that give you superpowers. Anyone would want it, but will I become like that?
   No. Clear your head. You'll be out of here in an hour, and you can put this all behind you. Atlas has a way out. Yeah, Atlas. How does anyone stay sane down here? How can you survive~
   Crack!
   Gunshots! Splicer!
   I run to the side, firing wildly. I'm lucky: the Splicer drops dead. I've lost count of how many Splicers I've killed.
   "Eurgh!"
   Pain. Something hit me in the back.
   I swing around with the gun. There's a crack of bone as it impacts the thug Splicer behind me. I fire. Headshot. It drops. HE drops.
   Oh God oh God oh God
   Gunshots! Another one! Too many!
   I fire. I miss! Nerves! Dammit! The gun's empty. Plasmids, I've got my plasmids, fire can make him burn or lightning to stun him can't decide can't decide just kill him!
   Too late. It fires back. Once, twice. I stumble. My stomach. Pain. So much pain.
   "Gyah!"
   A fourth, behind me. Lead pipe to the back. I fall to the floor. Medical kit. I need my medical kit. Can't reach it. So cold. So dark. The floor is hard and wet. There's a leak in the window.
   "So long, little fish!"
   I wish I was home. Mom. Dad. The farm...
   Pain.
   Darkness.
   I blink.
   Warm. Dark.
   My lungs are burning. I breathe in: it's as if they were empty.
   Those last moments, they're all a jumble. But where am I now?
   It's a glass tube, lit from inside. There's padding on the wall behind me, red leather. And glass below and above me, faintly glowing. There's a curtain on the other side of the tube. Hadn't I been dead? How did I get here?
   The tube in front of me slides open. Rapture's wet and stinking air flows in. I take a breath, and reach for my pistol.
   It's not there.
   I pat myself all over. Nothing's there! The pistol, the machine gun, my wrench... they're all gone!
   No weapons. I'm dead.
   I look down at my left hand, and snap my fingers. It begins to twitch as it glows blue and lightning courses through it. Good, I've still got those. My arm crackles and burns as I call up Incinerate.
   I've got a weapon. I can survive. I step out. Maybe I can find a pistol or a wrench nearby...
   Three splicers are close, gathered around a body. They seem to be beating it up. I back off: they haven't noticed me. One of them has a pistol. Something... familiar. No, not yet. Concentrate. How much EVE do I have? Four shots. Should be enough. Wait. Get a little closer together, you monsters...
   YES.
   I snap my fingers. The three of them burst into flame, screaming and shouting. Again. Again! The three fall to the ground, moaning. Crying. I feel ill.
   Dry heaves. There's nothing in my stomach. I'm starving. Never understood starving before. There's a pep bar, no, three of them, on the table there. I wolf them down. Oh, God, food has never tasted so good.
   Three bodies. Well, four, plus the unlucky sap they were beating on. They've got some money, and the pistol wielding one had some ammo. A bag of potato chips too. I'm wiping off the oil and trying out the weight of a lead pipe when I turn to the corpse.
   Oh God it's me.
   No no no.
   The same clothes I'm wearing. The same haircut. The body's torched from my fire attack, but it's me. No, it can't be.
   I turn the wrist up, and see the tattoo there. I look at my wrist. Three links. The exact same.
   It is. It's me.
   "What the FUCK?"
   The chamber... the chamber! I run back to it. "Vita-Chamber." This thing... it copied my body! My body, my memories, my plasmids, everything...
   I feel myself panicking. Not now. Deep slow breaths. Grab your weapons and keep moving. Think about it later.
   It feels weird looting my own corpse. Really weird. But I've got all of my stuff back.
Keep moving. Keep moving. Find Atlas and get the fuck out of Rapture.

[techmaster-glitch]

Whoa. I must say, this is a delightfully twisted horror story. Seems very accurate to the insanity and chaos in the game, too (though I never got to play the whole thing, just the first few areas). Good job, man

[Jairus]

Whoa. I must say, this is a delightfully twisted horror story. Seems very accurate to the insanity and chaos in the game, too (though I never got to play the whole thing, just the first few areas). Good job, man

Don't worry, this is only supposed to be the Medical Pavilion level, so that's probably somewhere inside of where you've gotten.

As for the frenetic mood, well, I'm also trying to capture what it would feel like for someone who's never played an FPS before suddenly stuck in a genre he's unfamiliar with. Gee, I wonder who that could be...

[Jairus]

Lazy Daleks...

[link]http://i38.photobucket.com/albums/e143/J-RasZ/LazyDaleks.png?t=1272868225[/link]

Yup. Bad joke, but I don't care. So, anyway, I was watching "Victory of the Daleks" today (had a few complaints, but the story is good overall and the Daleks are back to being awesome, always good), and felt like doodling a Dalek. Then I remembered a Doctor Ashens video involving the Daleks needing new insurance, and it went from there. Though I fail at drawing Daleks. :\ Guess I'll just have to practice then!

Daleks and Doctor Who are property of the BBC.

[Mrs_A_ZeTavia]

OMG! This image made my day! Although, I can definitely say you draw a better Dalek then I could, so in that regard it's not a fail. 

And the added irony to this is, the image totally sums up me. I have a nasty habit of procrastinating; which I have been trying to improve on. There has been some, but I got a lot more to go. 

[Jairus]

OMG! This image made my day! Although, I can definitely say you draw a better Dalek then I could, so in that regard it's not a fail. 

And the added irony to this is, the image totally sums up me. I have a nasty habit of procrastinating; which I have been trying to improve on. There has been some, but I got a lot more to go. 

Well, thank you for the comment! I'm glad that liked it. But yeah, I'm probably gonna work on drawing better Daleks.

And yeah, I suffer from procrastination problems too.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

I don't suffer from procrastination problems! I... hang on a minute, got something to do. bbiam.

[Jairus]

Been a while since I wrote any sort of poem!

"Time"
Like waves that crash on distant shore,
Harsh winds that blow on mountain's top,
Or sand that through the glass does pour,
Time is a force that none can stop.
All things age and turn to dust
That's blown away on stormy gales.
All flesh decays and metal rusts,
'Til naught even the stones prevail.
We watch our loved ones as they age,
And mem'ries fade and wash away.
So briefly are we on this stage,
With no strength left to hold at bay.
So live on now, and treasure dear,
This time we have, right now and here.

[Jairus]

Another poem.

"Reforged"

A man of iron and of steel,
Forged in darkness, and of fear.
Like phoenix from the ashes rise,
Soar e'er onward into the skies.
Red as fire and golden sun,
A hero made, second to none.
Down from the sky with righteous wrath,
To right once more the wand'ring path.
Like hell's fury, bourn by a song,
A heart once weak is now made strong.
A life once wasted, now reborn,
Leaves past behind, to never mourn.
To save the world, yes, that's the plan.
All evil fear the Iron Man.

Edit: fix'd something.
Edit 2: fix'd something else.

[techmaster-glitch]

That....is a pretty slick poem. Very nice job, man It definitely captures the essense of Iron Man and his story.

(though, when I saw the title, I somehow thought it was going to be about Eberron "reforged", which is a prestige class for warforged...)

[Jairus]

Just a short story I did yesterday. And before anyone asks, why yes, I have been watching a lot of Doctor Who recently. So, anyway, boredom and a lack of writing recently led to this.

The Last Soldier

   The last Soldier walked on. The Enemy was out there.
   It had walked for centuries. When had it left the surgery ward where it was born again, it was perfect.. Now, countless battles and the tireless elements had left it scarred. A missing arm, a gash across the chest, a frozen leg, a broken eye, and countless scratches and dings. It limped across the endless wastes. But the War was not over. Its two remaining eyes danced across its head, searching for the Enemy.
   There was a fault in its left knee. Failure predicted, estimated ten hours. It transmitted a maintenance request, but there was no response. Again. It logged the fault, and continued on.
   Hours passed. The clouded sky darkened. Lightning flashed across the stormy sky. It passed the remains of a fallen Enemy. Victory.
   The sky grew darker. The storm worsened. Three hours estimated until knee failure.
   More time passed. The wind died down as it entered a valley. The wind still blew through here, changing the sounds. Another fallen Enemy. Victory.
   "They're all gone."
   The Enemy. Hiding behind some rocks.
   "ELIMINATE THE ENEMY!"
   The Soldier snapped around, bringing its arm and the weapon mounted on it to bear. Nothing happened. Programmed reflex. The gun had failed years ago. All weapons were non-functional. No matter, its builders had planned for this. It reached clawed fingers for the Enemy, lunging to bring its warm flesh into its reach and to squeeze the life from its body. Victory.
   Total failure. The knee joint shattered under the strain. It fell to the ground with a mighty thud. It flailed for purchase. No time left. The Enemy was right next to it now. No, it could not lose, it could not fail, it could not let the Enemy have Victory...
   "Just give it a rest, will you?"
   It stopped. The Enemy was wrong. It was not attacking. Wrong. The Soldier was confused.
   "YOU ARE THE ENEMY! YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED!" the Soldier roared to rally itself.
   "Yeah, yeah, E-liminate the E-nemy." The Enemy began to circle it. "Look at you. Powerless. The great Immortal Soldier, lying there helpless. How does it feel, hm?"
   The Enemy was so close now. "STAY AWAY!"
   "Oh yeah? What are you going to do to me?" The Enemy picked up a small rock and tossed it at the Soldier. It make a TING as it bounced off of its head. "You can't kill me. You can't even hurt me. What are you good for, then? You were made as a weapon. What good is a weapon that doesn't work?"
   "WE SHALL BE VICTORIOUS! YOU SHALL BE ELIMINATED!"
   "Who's 'we'? You by your lonesome?" The Enemy perched itself on some rocks, keeping a careful eye on the Soldier.
   So many broken parts. Too many. The Soldier desperately continued to send hails. Rescue, repair, backup, support, anything. Nothing. Nothing at all. It stopped struggling.
   "What are you doing?"
   "WAITING."
   "For what?"
   "FOR THE OTHERS. FOR MY ORDERS."
   "They won't come."
   The Soldier looked up to see the Enemy holding a device. A monitoring device of some sort, based on how the Enemy was using it.
   "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"
   "They're all dead. All of you. You're the last one."
   "YOU LIE!"
   "When was the last time you heard from your Overseer? When was the last time you saw another one of you?"
   The Soldier was silent. It had never thought about it before. Years. Many years. So much time. No response to reports, repair requests, information. Nothing. It had continued on because it was a Soldier and that was what it did. But there were no other Soldiers. Only silence. And their remains.
   The Enemy hopped down and brushed some sand off of a nearby mound. A dead Soldier stared at the Soldier. Sightless eyes glared from a head barely hanging on to a torso.
   "As for me, I heard your signal a few years back. I've been tracking you, you see. Getting closer every day. I had time. All the time in the world, now. The War is over, Soldier."
   "THE WAR IS NOT OVER, ENEMY! I STILL LIVE!"
   The Enemy sighed. "I'm not going to kill you. There's no point to it."
   "YOU ARE THE ENEMY! YOU SHALL BE~"
   "Shut up!" the Enemy snapped. "Don't you get it? There's no one left fighting it because they're all dead! You and me are the only ones left! Can't you see that there's no point to the damned War any more? No one is coming for you! You're shutting down! And once you do, you'll all be dead and gone!"
   The Soldier stayed silent for a minute.
   "I AM ALONE."
   "Yeah."
   "SO ARE YOU."
   The Enemy glared at the Soldier before burying its face in its hands. "Yes. We're the same."
   "WE ARE NOT THE SAME!"
   The Enemy looked on as the Soldier pulled itself closer with its one arm.
   "YOU ARE THE ENEMY! THE WAR IS NOT OVER! YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED! ELIMINATE! ELIMINATE! ELIMINATE!"
   The Enemy shook its head. "I'm sorry."
   "WHAT?"
   "I've spent the last ten years hoping that maybe you would see the light. That maybe... maybe I wouldn't be alone anymore. I guess not."
   The Enemy stood up.
   "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, ENEMY?"
   "I dunno. Maybe there are other survivors. Maybe not. But I'm gonna look for them. I got lucky with you. I've spent a century alone now, Soldier. Maybe I can live a while longer that way. I doubt it."
   The Enemy started to walk away, into the storm.
   "I STILL LIVE, ENEMY!"
   "For how much longer, I wonder?" the Enemy called back. "How much longer till your power source runs dry? How much longer until your last servos break beyond your ability to repair them?" The Enemy stopped just out of visual range, and turned around back towards the Soldier. "I am sorry. Goodbye."
   And the Enemy was gone.
   The Soldier hesitated. Perhaps...
   No.
   It was a Soldier. It was the Enemy. Eliminate the Enemy. Victory in the War.
   The last Soldier pulled itself along the ground, a few inches at a time. The Enemy was out there.

[Jairus]

So, after long study and research into every magical system that has ever existed or been thought to exist, I have drawn up three universal laws that describes all magic everywhere.

The Three Laws of Magic

The First Law: "Screw the rules, you have magic!"
The Second Law: "There is no Third Law."
The Third Law:
The Fourth Law: "See? Told ya."

[Jairus]

Been a bit. So, here's something: an early birthday present for Ren! It's a WarHammer 40K-themed silly thing, so, um, yeah.

"The Emperor Protects... For Another Year"
An Imperial Commissariat birthday greeting

Greetings from the Emperor,
Upon his Golden Throne!
We heard you're one year older:
And you should never dine alone!
So grab the drinks and shout aloud,
Your birthday time is here!
On the morn we face a Chaos crowd,
But we shall never fear!
So stand along your brothers now,
And let the good times roll.
United by our holy vows
It is our duty sole:
Long live Terra, oh so holy!
Now please pass the guacamole!

[Ren Gaulen]

For the.. Emprah.

[Jairus]

For the.. Emprah.

"For the EmpeRAAAAAAAAH?"

[Jairus]

So, I'm proofreading a copy of a script for The Wizard of Oz, and I get to the scene where the Scarecrow and Dorothy meet the talking apple trees. I came across three terrible puns, and well... this ensued.


jayrasz
FIRST TREE
I'm suddenly twigged.
SECOND TREE
So have I. They've made saps of us all.
THIRD TREE
I think it's time we boughed out.
rensgaulen

Quickly, Jinx to the resque! "Good sirs, allow me to axe you a question."
jayrasz
We don't trunk with strangers.
But perhaps we could branch out our relationship.
I won't leaf you hanging.
Believe me, you're not barking up the wrong tree here.
Have my puns stumped you?
Are you rooting for my death?
I'm a very knotty tree.
*sings* Swing loam, sweet chariot...
rensgaulen
._.
._,
,_,
jayrasz
Oak come on, they weren't that bad, were they?
Let me ash you, should we stop?
Leave these puns behind for a larch?
Willow you still like me in the morning?
Are you pining for me to stop now?
You're gonna shoot me, aren't you?
Seed, this is why you should never get me started.
rensgaulen
x_______x
jayrasz
Say, have you ever listened to music by Peter, Pollen Mary?
Or read Dante's Divine Comedy?
Gone swimming at the beech?
Gone rowan in a boat?
I'm having way too much fir here.
I may have gone a bit potting.
Water you waiting for, aren't you going to ask me to stop?
Are you face palming?
rensgaulen
...
Woah.
Just woah.



I regrowth NOTHING.

[Ren Gaulen]

...

......

*screams uncontrollably*

..Seriously, though, this is simply hilarious. Puntastic work, bro!

[Jairus]

...

......

*screams uncontrollably*

..Seriously, though, this is simply hilarious. Puntastic work, bro!

It's funny how a little sliver of an idea can get so big.

[WhiteFox]

My brother and I had this routine we'd do;

"What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs, floating in the ocean?"
"Bob."
"What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs, laying down on the front of your doorstep?"
"Matt."
"...Hanging on your wall?"
"Art."
"...Who lives in the trunk of your car?"
"Jack."
"...Who lives in the coffee maker?"
"Joe."
"...Who lives in the bathroom?"
"John."
"...Who shows up in the mail?"
"Bill."
"...Who lives on the BBQ?"
"Frank."
"His girlfriend?"
"Patty."
"...Who lives in a hole?"
"Dough"
"...Who lives next to Dough, in a pile?"
"Phil."
"...Who lives next to Phil, buried in the garden?"
"Pete"
"...Who lives under Pete?"
"Clay."

Sometimes, we could keep this up for nearly an hour.

[Jairus]

My brother and I had this routine we'd do;

"What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs, floating in the ocean?"
"Bob."
"What do you call a guy with no arms and no legs, laying down on the front of your doorstep?"
"Matt."
"...Hanging on your wall?"
"Art."
"...Who lives in the trunk of your car?"
"Jack."
"...Who lives in the coffee maker?"
"Joe."
"...Who lives in the bathroom?"
"John."
"...Who shows up in the mail?"
"Bill."
"...Who lives on the BBQ?"
"Frank."
"His girlfriend?"
"Patty."
"...Who lives in a hole?"
"Dough"
"...Who lives next to Dough, in a pile?"
"Phil."
"...Who lives next to Phil, buried in the garden?"
"Pete"
"...Who lives under Pete?"
"Clay."

Sometimes, we could keep this up for nearly an hour.

"What do you call a girl with one leg shorter than the other?"
"Ilene."
"What if she's japanese?"
"Irene."

I love jokes like that. I'm horrible for it, but I do.

[Jairus]

Holy crap, two posts in under two months? Whatever next!

Vambrace concept #2

WARNING: All links lead to Fur Affinity due to copy-and-pasting from another post about it, so you are warned.

So, somewhat inspired by the Assassin's Creed series, I've been designing a vambrace weapon for my character Nicky (concept here). This is substantially bulkier than that version (which is basically concept #1), and I've also realized that there are a few unnecessary things in this design that'll be removed for concept 3 (the Arsenal Subspace Shunt mechanism, for those wondering). Having the image at full size for reference is highly recommended. Now for some explanation.

This is a custom-built weapon made by Nicky to serve as his gimmicky sidearm (his description, not mine). It's basically designed to serve as a backup weapon to whatever else he's wielding at the time. It's a bit bulky in this concept and I'm gonna slim it down for the next version, and there'll be some added armor to protect the mechanisms. Okay, now to make the descriptions of the various design elements easier to follow, I've numbered a bunch of the systems as 1 through 7, so it should be easier to find them. Okay, here we go!

1. A compact hydraulic system used to deploy and retract the kinetic blaster and switchblade, mounted on the vambrace's underside. It's controlled by a three-way switch mounted near the elbow, for the two weapons and an off setting, and power is supplied by a set of topside power cells.
2. A thumb trigger mounted on a glove attached to the vambrace. The trigger is mainly designed to activate the kinetic blaster, though it can also activate the other two weapons.
3. The power cells. Not sure what they are, probably some form of high-energy capacitor because the kinetic blasters need to draw off of them. There'll be more of them in the next version because the ASS won't be taking up as much space, and arranged differently because I'll be putting the opening hinge up there.
4. The retracting "switchblade." Hydraulically powered, of course, once activated it is deployed by angling the hand and wrist downwards. I think the tip is actually a vibro weapon so that it actually has a chance of doing some real damage, in which case it's powered by the cells. It's mainly designed as an off-hand or quick-strike weapon, not a principle melee weapon.
5. The kinetic blaster. It's either a misnomer or an actual kinetic blast weapon: if it's a misnomer, it uses an advanced electrostatic projector to make a high-powered plasma shot that knocks people back from the shock of it hitting the air (it also charges air, so it might be a high-energy laser coupled with a static weapon). If not, well, it actually imparts kinetic energy to a target, sort of like punching them except no fist. Yeah, very descriptive, I know. This one is activated by angling the wrist upwards (as shown in the diagram), and it's positioned thanks to the spring in the hinge. As mentioned above, it's trigged by, well, the trigger. Again, descriptive.
6. The Arsenal Subspace Shunt, a portable technological hyperdimensional pocket system. I'm gonna save this for later, so it's off of the next version and replaced by more power cells for the vambrace and an actual magical bag of holding (it's that kind of story).
7. Out of scale and in the bottom left-hand corner, this is an idea for a collapsible buckler shield that I'm thinking of adding to the vambrace, since Nicky usually wields his sword in his left hand and he could use an offhand shield. If I add it, it'll also be hydraulically powered and mounted over the switchblade on the outside of the arm. At this point, though, it's just a thought and a sketch.

Okay, I think that's everything. So there's the vambrace weapon. Major ideas for next concept improvements is more power cells, a slightly slimmer design, some armor for the vital components, and overall being a little easier to understand. Oh, and a way for it to be actually taken off and put on. :\ Can't believe I forgot that. So, any questions, constructive criticism, or advice? It's all appreciated.

Oh, and congrats for getting through all of that.

[Inumo]

I could follow it pretty well. Might help when you do a finished version to have the hand/text at a universal orientation, along with some better labeling of which is towards the thumb, away from the thumb, under the glove, and above it. Inside and outside are a tad too subjective, especially considering most people label as if it were on an invisible table, rather than as if a person was wearing it. Confused me until I saw the switchblade activation mechanism. If you're using force fields, you could always locate the portable buckler emitter to the center of the glove's back and have it generate a small material-repellent shield. Heck, you could also have the whole hand be shield-coated, so Nicky can grab a blade and break it using his hand.

[Jairus]

I could follow it pretty well. Might help when you do a finished version to have the hand/text at a universal orientation, along with some better labeling of which is towards the thumb, away from the thumb, under the glove, and above it. Inside and outside are a tad too subjective, especially considering most people label as if it were on an invisible table, rather than as if a person was wearing it. Confused me until I saw the switchblade activation mechanism. If you're using force fields, you could always locate the portable buckler emitter to the center of the glove's back and have it generate a small material-repellent shield. Heck, you could also have the whole hand be shield-coated, so Nicky can grab a blade and break it using his hand.

The only forcefield in his arsenal at this time is a kinetic field manipulator that he uses to protect himself from really big blows and falling damage. And I think that his gauntlet might have some parts like a cestus, but for now he's basically limited to physical protection.

But yeah, I will make this a lot clearer when I make the next version. Promise.

[Jairus]

So, I was bored, and decided - on an insane whim - to post this old fanfic I wrote almost a year ago. If I recall, this was originally based on some comment of Ren's, so you can blame him if you want to. It's marked Mature because it is, so you've been warned. You don't have to read it. In fact,I'll even give you some extra space to turn back before you read it. Because I was going all "arty" and such at the time, I decided not to mention the character's names. However, since this is being posted by a JyrBel shipper and these feline and rodent characters belong to Amber, you can just guess who's involved here. Involves master/slave roleplay. Yes. No actual sex, but there is nudity. Again, blame Ren. I'll remove it if people don't want it here.

And apologies to Amber. Please don't kill me.

Feline Master and Rodent Slave
a short story by Jairus
characters by Amber Williams of DMFA, aka missmab

   The small rodent gasped as he felt rough paws grab his wrists and hold him still.
   "Be still, slave!" a harsh voice whispered in his ear. "You have displeased your master, and you must now pay the penalty!"
   The rodent gulped. "P-puh-please, master," he stammered, "please don't be angry. I didn't mean to~"
   "Silence!" the feline snapped. The slave wilted in his master's grip, protests fading to nothingness.
   "Good." His grip lessened, but not enough for his slave to break free, and his punishment would only be worse if he did. He knew. "Now, I will allow you to escape your punishment, slave" - the slave's big ears perked up - "if you service me to my satisfaction."
   The ears dropped again.
   "So, what will it be, slave?"
   "I... I..."
   "Answer, slave, or I shall punish you!"
   "I... I shall service you, master," the slave quietly whispered. His head hung in shame and hot tears rolled down his face.
   "Excellent."
   His master released his wrists, and he turned around and looked up at his master. "Tell me what to do, Master."
   "First, you shall remove all of your clothes. Now."
   Slowly, the rodent removed all of his clothes, one article at a time, until he stood naked and humiliated before his master.
   "Now, you shall undress me, slave."
   He gulped, and slowly undid his master's pants, dropping them to the ground. He was naked beneath them, his penis already firming up at the prospect of the night's activities. The slave gulped again. His master knelt down in front of him, and he undid each of the buttons to slide the shirt off of his shoulders for him.
   Now the two stood naked in front of each other, the master tall and proud and his slave slouched and humble.
   "Now, stay here, slave, or I shall punish you, and then you shall still service me."
   "Yes, master," the slave intoned. His master left the room, leaving him alone.
   He stood there for a minute or so, staring at the floor, his hands crossed in front of him and covering his nudity as best as he could.
   "I do not recall telling you you could cover yourself." He jumped at his master's voice.
   "I am sorry, master." He immediately uncrossed his hands, and kept them at his sides.
   "Good. Now, remain still."
   He stood as still as he could, as he felt his master wrap his hands around his neck, his heartbeat quickening in fear. He felt a leather collar pulled around and buckled, then left to hang loose on his neck. He heard the familiar tinkle of the bell attached to his collar as his master attached a leather leash to the collar and tugged at it. He felt tears flowing down his burning cheeks, and worst of all he could feel his own penis hardening, just like his master's.
   "Good slave," his master congratulated. He felt his master's hot breath on his ear as his master looked over his shoulder at his growing erection, and he knew his master was smiling. "And I see that you are indeed ready for the evening, you naughty filthy thing. You like it, don't you, slave?"
   His master's tone did not invite contradiction, and the evidence was plain for both to see.
   "Yes, master," he admitted in defeat.
   He felt his master's paw rubbing the other side of his head, and his free paw with the leash wrapped around it toying with his erection, each pull of the leash making the bell jingle and reminding him of his enslavement.
   He heard and felt his master take in breath to speak, and when he did, it was in a quiet whisper, just for him.
   "The safe word is 'Aaryanna.'"
   The small rodent looked out of the corner of his eyes at the feline, and the two shared a secretive furtive grin.
   "Yes, master. I understand."
   "Good." The feline stood up, and tugged on the rodent's leash in the direction of the bed. "Come, slave. Prove to your master that you are worthy of forgiveness."
   "Yes, master," the slave said.
   This game was FUN.

[Meany]

Aww, isn't that a warm and cozy scene?

Only one typo I can see,

He felt a leather collar pulled around and buckled, then left to hand loose on his neck.

Hang is what I believe you meant there.

Now the tricky part is going to be figuring out which male feline in DMFA actually wears button shirts.    My vote goes to Merlitz.  Still, an excellent little story.