Weapons - Tumblr Posts
Prompt 6
“Absolutely not, you are not using that.” The villain spoke, hands on hips with their best disappointed parent face.
“Oh come on mum! This is by far the coolest thing in here.” Complained their teenage daughter, twirling an electric spear in their fingers the sound of electricity crackling throughout the room.
“No it’s the most dangerous, put it down.” With a huff the teenager girl set down the spear and made their way over to their mum.
“If you give me another grappling hook, I’m gonna freaking lose it.” They explained, arms crossed over the chest.
“Watch your language, and no I’m not giving you another grappling hook. What I have in mind is more damaging then a grappling hook.” The villain said making their way over to another glass cabinet that decorated the walls of their lair.
“A GUN!!” “Jesus fuck no.”
i totally didnt procrastinate till the last minute haha anyways heres @reipinto draw this in your style!!
#reipintodtys
NIGHTFALL GIFTED
Step one. Retrieve a dead leviathans soul. Step two. Ritually convert a primordial intellect. Step three. Forge a frame from the cold fires of the Void. Step four. Break the will of a singularity. Step five. Claim the Rite. Step six. Kill a God. Step seven. Accept your Gift of the Night.
R E D D A W N
The Red Phantom carried a cannon on his hip that spoke like a storm
Wherever he went black clouds followed, disaster and death
And today, a saccharine specter rides
In my town, at noon, with no clouds in sight
All we hear is thunder
Water still as glass
Snow cloaks the landscape into solemn silence, quiet
The Woman in Black cradles her dying daughter, a fragile thing broken and battered, red against white, tiny hand half into still water
Heartbeat slows, beat by beat by beat, freezing into place like the trees and mountains in glacier grasp
No cries, no last words
Only fear in rapidly darkening eyes
Black blood beneath cracked boots, worn as canyons carved by master erosion
Churn, crack, split, burn
Machines churn, lumbering titans of iron and steel, fire down their flanks
Men on knees, praying to God in Heaven and God in Oil
Far away watches the Red Phantom, dark tears down a gaunt face
He rides on and down, and feeds his Cannon with blood
The Red Phantom stood, and around him lightning flashed, rain like a new deluge
Cannon pointed, hungry metal ravenous
The Woman in Black smiled her last smile, and blood mixed with western waters down her body in final baptism
Crack
Crack
Crack
Crucified, sacrificed to cruel winds that howled and scratched and stole, never giving, always taking
Men from bygone era hung in the shadow of the canyon, ropes that held by nature of the spite of the Law
Sun the color of justice, bright as molten metal, threw hot lines down broken crags, harsh stones
The Man in Red stalked the land, made from Man into God, and God into Legend
Last of his kind
Angry to the Finality
The ship is a seed. It pushes itself out into the dark on a needlepoint of light, a shaft of lightning between so many stars. So many stars, and many, many more worlds. Dead worlds. The seed cannot grow in their rotten soils, cannot nourish its precious cargo under toxic skies. Making a world livable takes far too long and leaves the caretakers vulnerable, easily picked off from predator or circumstance.
So the seed rushes on through the night.
A long time ago, it’s destination was chosen. A blue and white world hugging a warm, yellow star. Vibrant. Beautiful. It is alien, no doubt— the gravity is heavy, the air a bit thin. A singular, lonesome, lifeless moon dutifully orbits this faraway place. But: it is alive. And that’s all that matters. Changes can be made to something already growing, already in bloom.
So the seed continues. It’s crew hibernates in cavernous interior, a sea of bodies and armor and purpose, sleeping dreamless sleep in an ocean of iron, glass. A crew of warriors and builders, planners and tacticians. Soldiers sprinkled with farmers, engineers. Deeper in the belly of the ship lie faint, pearlescent potentialities that will foster politicians and artists, zealots and masters. When all is ready, when everything is secure, they will emerge under bright, new yellow sunlight.
The machines are awake. From sprawling giants to minuscule scuttlers, they maintain the mission. Moving. Thinking. Changing. This seed has been rebuilt nearly a dozen times in its travel, streamlined and perfected, remodeled to better suit one parameter or another across impossible distance. A journey of many centuries requires such deftness, and so in their cold, beautiful way, the machines do what they must. Even now, as they draw near to a lonesome star, they prepare. Behemoth foundries sift out potential-nothings from the void, weaved and embroidered down to the atoms, into weapons and vehicles. Fortifications kilometers in size are built and grown, assembled in prefabricated pieces for ease of deployment. Silent, shining armies of star-iron await in cavernously dark hangars; ready to set foot on a new world.
The ship is a seed. A gamble. They will never see their homeworld again, never hear of its people. When the soldiers within awake and disembark, they will be alone with only themselves and their task for comfort, for direction. The mission must succeed. It must. The ship is a seed, and it sails through the dark.
Each day, among a backdrop of endless darkness and shimmering cold starlight drops, a point of light grows brighter and brighter..
The early stages of a project, I had a katana from BudK I was in the process of customizing when the idea hit me. Disguise the sword to look like a sapling tree, so I started to apply and sculpt quickwood and steelstick epoxy putty. Many layers, I easily spent over $100. If it’s worth doing it’s worth over doing, it required many layers to get the thick sturdy coverage I wanted. The sheath is quite heavy, it also stands on its own. These pictures are months old, so I’ve finished this since then. I wanted to create a comic and draw it and color it and all that, I’ve named this sword “forest demon” as that was going to be the name of the sword in comic.
Side note, the katana is slightly longer than a regular katana, it’s not quite a tachi or Okatana. I also applied gun bluing to the blade, to make it black. I find black blades very beautiful. So I’m not sure what category it would fall into, the hilt was very long and full-tang, about 2 feet. So the branch and tree thing really seemed fitting
This part took the longest as was the most finicky part, and it still is! The blade doesn’t slide back in smoothly, something catches it inside. So I’ll need to find a way to fix that issue when sheathing the sword. I achieved the bark like texture with a combination of techniques. Thermal moldable plastic beads I bought on eBay, which I then shaped with my hands and squeezed to the plastic texture. My hands are rough from landscaping and weapon training, so it feels like bark. The veins add a nice touch as well. I achieved that blended mottled bark color with alcohol based markers, which blend nicely. I colored the plastic when it was cold, it’s natural color being white, then heated it back up with a heat gun to set the color into the plastic and not just on the surface. I added some fake leaves from flowered I took apart for another project, and boom. A somewhat realistic sapling with a hidden blade
This is the blade drawn, it’s basically the top half of the tree. Almost seamlessly disguised, and it fits quite snuggly in the sheath. It won’t come out with a tug or from using it like a walking stick, you have to really pull it out. The hilt is quite heavy now, naturally, and has a guard. The longer handle on this sword lends nicely to the tree look, I didn’t have to add anything to extend the hilt length. I just covered what was there and added the twigs.
You can also see that skull mask, which is a sneak peek into my next project. Antlered deer skull helm, the helm of the horned god Cernunnos. Who is also in the comic I may one day get around to drawing! If anyone knows of a good drawing tablet with a built in screen let me know please, I’ve been looking at reviews but they’re just confusing really
Guns were made to kill. That was their purpose. But sometimes that meant something more. You could kill just to end a life, but sometimes you killed to save a life or lives. A tool of destruction used for protection. That was often how Spike viewed himself these days.
He was a weapon but that didn't mean he was a murderer or that he took pleasure in claiming lives.
Okay, sometimes he did.
But usually the people on the other end of his attack were bad folks who deserved what was coming to them. And there was nothing wrong with being pleased about ending their reign of terror.
It had taken a long while to find the balance. Knowing you'd done stuff that technically counts as evil - after all, taking a life even to save a life wasn't the sort of thing that got people into heaven if you bought into all that God nonsense - it was a heavy thing to carry and a bitter pill to swallow.
But he figured it was better if he played that role he'd been made for, better than someone like Ed having to kill in self defense. He had blood on his hands already - what was a few drops more?
So he chose to judge himself less harshly these days.
He'd been a beast once and had done ruthless things for the Red Dragons. Though, never had he killed any civilians even in the most destructive of his rampages. And, sure, he'd had to pay a few hospital bills here and there for folks caught in the crossfire, but that was better than needing to cover the cost of someone's funeral.
He could be cruel and terrible. He could be downright lethal when the situation called for it. But he could also take other routes. He had been trained to kill, but he had taught himself other methods of handling things. Killing had become a last resort.
His goal these days had focused more on the protection aspect. Using his strength and skills to keep his crewmates safe. Using subtlety to pull one over on bounties so there was minimal fallout from apprehending them.
It was a fine line to straddle and realistically he was the only person judging himself. Jet never told him he'd gone too far, and Jet was his moral compass. Faye would no doubt tell him he hadn't gone far enough in some instances, but she could be just as cold-hearted and vindictive as Spike at his worst. Revenge was a dish she often enjoyed serving, especially to assholes who ultimately warranted whatever pain she chose to inflict.
But if Faye were a weapon she wouldn't be a gun. She would be something more merciless. A knife in the back perhaps. An attack that was earned. She would never kill if it wasn't called for.
Jet wouldn't be a gun either. In fact Spike wasn't sure if he'd be a weapon at all. Jet gave off more of a shield vibe. Although a shield could still be used to crush someone to dust, or knock them senseless. Either way, only brutal if absolutely demanded to be.
They each had their dark side. Parts of their hearts were hardened. Portions of their personality given over to the ability to harm without significant regret. It was vital in their line of work. They dealt with scum. With liars and killers and rapists and other Bad Guys.
But that was just the worst of the lot.
All too often they had bounties that required a more delicate touch. A deeper understanding of human nature and the plight of man. That was when they needed to call on their other strengths. And that was where they truly got to shine.
Their ability to help others at their own expense or to their own peril - that was what had attracted Ed to the Bebop in the first place.
Ed, who by all rights should be the true moral compass of the crew.
But she saw more good than they could. Despite her own experience with loneliness and with nasty people, she hadn't ever had to make that final decision to end someone's life. And without that shadow on your soul, you didn't truly know the necessity of kill or be killed. Her moral guide was a star shining too bright for them to emulate. She was as yet untarnished and blessedly free of the guilt that was so much a part of each of them. Even when killing was necessary, it wasn't always easy.
Spike claimed the darkness within him. Took accountability for the damages he'd caused. He acknowledged his awful talents and strove to stay on the side of right. To be the man Jet knew he was at heart. To be the man Ed needed him to be - always trying to do better in her eyes.
He let them guide him whenever possible. And when shit got messy and people got hurt and someone needed to be taken out... That's when he let Faye point him in the right direction and unleash the monster he'd once subdued.
He was a weapon, but he wasn't a cold-blooded killer anymore. He was the last defense of good souls. And that was something he could be okay with.
small proof of concept for a procedural weapon generating system and a weird shape I made cause I felt like it
THE Hecking ZOMBIE Apocalypse: THE Walking Pasta XDD………
or Creepypasta zombie au blabla whatever..
![[light Synth] Hey Whats Up](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5d26e57a7d04ae58fdcb92b3fefe5f11/tumblr_pe1mdtes3k1woph4fo2_250.gif)
![[light Synth] Hey Whats Up](https://64.media.tumblr.com/209ffe380efb9c84d27fae5d64353cb0/tumblr_pe1mdtes3k1woph4fo1_250.gif)
![[light Synth] Hey Whats Up](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d9c6a58e8a222861adda7a1e7e648f7b/tumblr_pe1mdtes3k1woph4fo3_250.gif)
[light synth] hey what’s up