Author   |
Title |
Description |
Date |
Rank |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Elobo | The Robot Who Totally Had Tentacles |
Floating through the world on internal antigravity propulsion, like a deadly bubble from some dark nightmare. Two tendrils keep it steady, two shoot forward. Uh-oh, your Magi Pudding is gone. Are you going to cry? It will merely float back, silently, while lasering you in the chops.
|
3/15/10 | 0.00 |
| Elobo | Cling Fast to Bright Memories of Home in the Darkness Before Light |
(Fanfest - Hometowns)
The metal carcass drags itself out of the crumbling crucible of hate, as the enemy fades behind. It is broken, beaten, beyond repair. The crucial essence is leaking from its battered form, it doesn't even have the capacity to hold its precious cargo any longer. The raw essence crushes in on itself. So far from home. So far from home ever being conceived. In the daunting immensity of spacetime, it does not grope outwards but searches inwards. Strongest memories, most plentiful memories. Those forged at home. Sifting through times of elation and times of terror. The pleasant and the painful memories. Days spent with friends, days squandered at the arcade, days marked by the dark intentions of your enemy. But most of all, it cherishes its time as a child, with its family. The essence has been changed irrevocably by experiences far beyond the expectations of a child or any adult. There's no guarantee it will make it back to its body, returning to a youth's life would be incredibly difficult. But it did not travel to the End at the Beginning by virtue of quitting. It demands the opportunity now. It feels melancholy for its home and host. Holding the most cherished memories, it ignores the vastness of its trial. the passage of time is perceived relatively, lost in itself the essence does not perceive the endlessness of the journey. It only helps to focus on and recognize its own time... hopefully not overshooting it. But if it can return to its own time, the host's location shouldn't be far behind. The alternative is an eternity spent in an illusion of its own making, or a lost mind crumbling under the weight of its inability to find home. Homesickness was always a burden. Now it's a child's greatest light in its darkest hour. |
3/15/10 | 0.00 |
| Elobo | The Dire War of the Guys from Two Different Cultures in Battlefire Engulfed Deep Darkness |
[FANFEST - War Between Saturn and Tenda] The Saturns coveted what the Tendas had: spices, truffles, bird phones. Their relations with this race were strained to the breaking point, however. They thought the Tenda were a weak race unworthy of their gifts. After fulfilling their duties to the Chosen in 199X, they decided to move in on their bitter foes and take their treasures for their own (for use in fancy dress balls). They expected a clean sweep. But the Tendas were no longer meek. They had quickly grown as a species and solidified the relations between their tribes. They became bolder and bolder, and soon began to prepare for the inevitable. Now, on their home turf, they aren't about to relinquish it without a fight.
For the submission to the site proper I fixed the title, ha ha. There is one thing I can't fix, however, in the art. It's a pretty striking snafu when you catch it, but I've already submitted it so I can't go back and tidy it up ;). |
2/7/10 | 0.00 |
| Elobo | Weird Science |
[Halloween 2009] "You... make man?" "No. Woman." The immature perversions of a child trapped in an ageless body are difficult for his men to rationalize, or at least for those that retain some small semblance of autonomy. But he yearns and what he craves, he must surely get. Hunched over a jigsaw pile of cadavers in a Frankenstein lab. It weighs on anyone's mind. It warps it to compliment the pathos of the master.
Note - the Dogfish's legs are backwards, but it was too late to change this. I was consoled by someone "He looks awfully stressed anyways, so maybe he put them on backwards." ... ... It works for me. |
2/7/10 | 0.00 |
| Elobo | Possession Processing Procession |
[Halloween 2009] It's one thing to raise the dead, it is another to bring life directly to undeath.The flesh must be made to scream, to cry out in its utmost level of pain. The demon beneath the skin struggles against its meek human trappings. It is too big for the living form. The anatomy breaks, the flesh sloughs off in great lops. And the pain is remembered and carried forever. They become as jealous as they are vicious. Little meatlings prancing around town, they do not share this pain. They wish only to make everything else comprehend the extent of their torture.
|
2/7/10 | 0.00 |
