Without further ado . . .
Yay. I can draw cartoon boobies.
I had meant to write about five gazillion blog posts over the Thanksgiving holiday. Instead, I wrote butkis. Nada, zilch . . . nothing. Not even a Dungeonspiration posts. I suppose I could could apologize - but I really dislike when people apologize for not writing enough in their blog. It's like they did something wrong. Advocating genocide in your blog? Okay, that's wrong. Not posting enough? NOT WRONG. Lazy maybe, but not wrong. :)
So I've been drawing a lot, fiddling with different styles and whatnot. The elf chick popped out when I was actually trying to draw something else - but I decided to color and ink it anyway - since I liked her expression. But just the picture was kind of weird, so I gave it a caption.
POOF - it's a MEME!
Yay! It's the "In the OSR . . ." meme! Everyone jump on the bandwagon and go create something - a poem or macaroni art or whatnot. Try to be actually funny - unlike me.
Like so much of my OSR art, I'm giving this to the community. I doubt that anyone really wants it - but feel free to repost, spindle, and mutilate.
Ohhh - btw - I won an award! Thanks Tim! (Not Crazy-Ass Tim, but the Other Tim.) Apparently, my blog is 'quirky.' I had no idea. I'm going to have to go look that up in the dictionary to find out what it means.
- Ark
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
More Retro
Yeah - more stuff that doesn't have to do with gaming, but I was particularly happy with this one. I'll try to keep more game related art on the blog. After all, I have a deviantArt account to toss all the other stuff on. :)
Enjoy.
- Ark
Friday, November 18, 2011
Rather Gamey Cheesecake
Okay, so it has nothing to do with gaming. More practice drawing. This is an attempt to draw in a 'retro cartoon' style. The reference, she is here.
This was done by hand with Sharpie and colored pencils, because the only pc that can run Photoshop was being used at the time by The Boy for SKYRIM. Sheesh. ;)
Enjoy.
- Ark
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Dungeonspiration: Dreams
It's been a stressful couple of months at work, and yesterday, due to several breakages, I needed to work through the wee hours of the night. I had about four hours to cram a nap into before starting the debug, so I collapsed in the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
Then came the dream.I was living in a village inhabited solely by children, in the middle of a post-apocalyptic wasteland criss-crossed by water canals. There were five of us: me, a black girl with very long dreads, and a a nerd boy who looked like a cross between Rick Moranis and the cartoon dude on the 'For Dummies' books. The two others were, like so many people in dreams - faceless, but there.
We played all day amidst the ruble of the once quaint town, carefree as the kids on that old Star Trek episode were where all the grups died. But all was not well in paradise. There were evil dwarves afoot. Not that they were short - or hairy - or looked or acted anything like dwarves. But they were dwarves - that was for sure. And they travelled in submarines that looked suspiciously like the CSS Virginia (or Merrimac, as it is improperly known.) They travelled down the canals that stretched across the open prairie, hunting children.
Luckily, we were psychic, so we knew trouble was coming before the first cannon balls started flying. We also knew that an evil old man had sent the dwarves after us - with the purpose of killing us. He had killed all of the children except us, and wanted us gone too. He lived in a city far away filled with only old people and lots of chain link fences. So we decided to go there.
I have no idea why we thought going to the city of the old people was a good idea. But that is what we did, narrowly escaping the evil submariner dwarves (that looked a lot like blue meanies, but not blue.) There were lots of barbed wire and minefields to get through - and search lights remarkably like the eye of Sauron from the cartoon to evade. But we made it the city.
The city was like a postcard from New York circa 1973 - sort of like Sesame Street - but filled with old people. They were nice to us when we got there. We talked to a very nice old man who said he could help. But suddenly my psychic powers revealed that he was the evil old man - the kingpin - the murder of all the world's children, so we hot-footed it out of there.
That's when the F-14 Tomcats began strafing the street.
We ran down the stairs into the subway station. The trains weren't running, however. Instead, the subway was cram-packed with junk - toys, swing sets, stuffed animals, and tons of yellow school buses. It was so packed we could hardly move - and overwhelmingly claustrophobic. We hunkered down between two overturned buses, trying to avoid the fighter jets. I'm not exactly sure how, but the F-14s made it into the station. Their machine guns blared. They shot the faceless kids. They killed the nerd. They riddled the black girl with bullets. Then they turned the guns on me. I could feel the pain as each of the bullets hit - and then I died.

Needless to say, I was very surprised when I woke up. The places where I was shot were on fire - hurting something fierce. But after the confusion wore off, I chuckled a bit. Then I saw the clock and that I had only slept three hours - and the amount of adrenalin I was pumped full of wasn't going to let me get back to sleep.
Many hours later, and most of my work done - I'm a bit punch drunk - and still a bit perplexed and fascinated by that dream. I'm sure my therapist (if I had one) would have a field day with it. But it does inspire me. I'd like to game in a world like that - as horrific as it sounds.
So go dream something weird. Go on now - don't be shy. Really freaky. It will probably inspire you. Oh, and feel free to report back here on your weird-ass dreams.
;)
- Ark
[Since I died in my dream does that mean I'm immortal now?]
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
The Talk, Part Two
This conversation happened a while ago, and was of monumental importance, but like so many things of monumental importance, they get swept up in the hubbub of life.
We were driving to the YMCA where The Boy has his swimming lessons twice a week. This was before daylight savings time kicked in (or out - I can never remember how that works,) so it was still light then, as opposed to now, when we drive to the Y in the dark.
"So," I said, "We've played Pathfinder several times now. How are you liking it?"
"I like it a lot," he nodded his head in an exaggerated fashion while adjusting his swimsuit. The boy was born a swimmer. He couldn't have been a few months old when his mother took him into the pool and he desperately pushed away from her - convinced in his little head that he could swim like everyone else.
"You remember we were just taking a break from 4e so we could see what Pathfinder was like - right?" I asked. I didn't want him to think we had abandoned his favorite game.
"Yeah," he watched the traffic out the window. Today was one of those once a month 'safety' days at the Y, where the class was less about swimming and more about responsibility. The boy really wasn't impressed with such days.
"I want you to know that I haven't forgotten 4e. We can start back up any time you want."
"No, that's okay," he said. The Boy has had a lot of swimming classes, working all the way up from Polliwog to Shark. Soon in his future may be the swim team, and perhaps, one day, he may become a lifeguard. It's up to him and where his love of swimming takes him.
"Huh?" I said, "Don't you want to play 4e?"
"No, that's okay. Pathfinder if funner. It's more freer like Labyrinth Lord and you're not stuck with all of those powers. It's simpler and I can do more of what I want to do," he told me.
I almost ran over a cluster of children while turning into the YMCA parking lot. "Really?" I asked, "I thought 4e was like your home, and you felt more comfortable in your home." I was trying to suppress a smile. Finally, he was over the 4e phase and we could focus on good old-fashioned D&D.
The Boy shook his head while getting out of the car and grabbing his towel. "No dad, just because a role playing game is your first one, doesn't mean it's the best or the funnest. Don't you know that?"
I collected my sketchbook and pencils from the back seat and quietly followed The Boy into the YMCA, reflecting deeply on what my son had just said.
- Ark
(FYI, the original 'The Talk' posting is here.)
We were driving to the YMCA where The Boy has his swimming lessons twice a week. This was before daylight savings time kicked in (or out - I can never remember how that works,) so it was still light then, as opposed to now, when we drive to the Y in the dark.
"So," I said, "We've played Pathfinder several times now. How are you liking it?"
"I like it a lot," he nodded his head in an exaggerated fashion while adjusting his swimsuit. The boy was born a swimmer. He couldn't have been a few months old when his mother took him into the pool and he desperately pushed away from her - convinced in his little head that he could swim like everyone else.
"You remember we were just taking a break from 4e so we could see what Pathfinder was like - right?" I asked. I didn't want him to think we had abandoned his favorite game.
"Yeah," he watched the traffic out the window. Today was one of those once a month 'safety' days at the Y, where the class was less about swimming and more about responsibility. The boy really wasn't impressed with such days.
"I want you to know that I haven't forgotten 4e. We can start back up any time you want."
"No, that's okay," he said. The Boy has had a lot of swimming classes, working all the way up from Polliwog to Shark. Soon in his future may be the swim team, and perhaps, one day, he may become a lifeguard. It's up to him and where his love of swimming takes him.
"Huh?" I said, "Don't you want to play 4e?"
"No, that's okay. Pathfinder if funner. It's more freer like Labyrinth Lord and you're not stuck with all of those powers. It's simpler and I can do more of what I want to do," he told me.
I almost ran over a cluster of children while turning into the YMCA parking lot. "Really?" I asked, "I thought 4e was like your home, and you felt more comfortable in your home." I was trying to suppress a smile. Finally, he was over the 4e phase and we could focus on good old-fashioned D&D.
The Boy shook his head while getting out of the car and grabbing his towel. "No dad, just because a role playing game is your first one, doesn't mean it's the best or the funnest. Don't you know that?"
I collected my sketchbook and pencils from the back seat and quietly followed The Boy into the YMCA, reflecting deeply on what my son had just said.
- Ark
(FYI, the original 'The Talk' posting is here.)
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The Candy Man
I don't care what the nay-sayers say - I love me some Savage Worlds. Kay was hankering to run a game, so we settled on Savage Worlds Supers. About two seconds into character creation, we realized that the only way we could pull a supers game off is if were were all villains.
We started off as normals, visiting an old friend in the hospital - a friend who was in a coma. Suddenly, like about zero seconds into play, our latent mutant superpowers all turned on and we were off - exploring our powers and running on a destructive rampage.
The Cast of Characters:
The Brain - That's Crazy-Ass Tim's character. He's a withered near-corpse that floats around in a hospital gown with an IV dangling from his arm. The Brain refers to his body as 'The Husk,' and communicates via telepathy. He specializes, of course, in MIND CONTROL.
The Flying Ferret - That's The Boy. He's a furry guy who can fly and turn invisible. His speciality is avoiding combat - or anything dangerous - for that matter. This is pretty much of a continuation of the recent theme of all of The Boy's characters as of late. The Boy refers to this character archetype as 'The Survivalist.'
Carl - Merwyn is playing Carl. Carl is . . . completely normal. He has no super powers. Carl once owned a comic book shop, and knows a lot about super heroes. Carl is, however, a super hipster. If there is something to do in the universe, Carl has already done it before you even thought about doing it, and will mock it - and you - as easily as breathing.
The Candy Man - This is my character. Originally, I had named him Shatter. He was a knock off of the Marvel character Bulls-eye - a dude with the ability to throw just about anything at anybody and kill them. However, the first thing Shatter picked up was a bowl of peppermints and began killing people with them. Shatter decided that killing people with candy was more fulfilling that anything else in the universe - thus THE CANDY MAN.
So, after leaving the hospital, the Flying Ferret tried to knock over a 7-11, which didn't go so well, so we decided to hit the nearest bank. The operation was crystal smooth until two members of the local doogooders guild came to stop us - the Ice Queen and Gigglewatt - or Gigawatt, I think.
Carl was busy stuffing money into bag in back - and the Flying Ferret had run away (again, his modus operandi,) so it was up to me and The Brain - two novice characters - to best two highly seasoned heroes in tight fitting lingerie.
I decided the Ice Queen was the softer target, so I send a vicious barrage of Twizzlers at her. In two rounds, I had killed her with candy, and began hurling Fun Sized Snickers Bars at Gigawatt, while The Brain mind-controlled the bank customers into attacking him as well. The Flying Ferret even joined the fun, pulling out a pistol and shooting our dear hero in the back.
Well, Gigawatt zapped The Candy Man into kingdom come, blowing him back, knocking him unconscious, and permanently reducing his intelligence score. Then he tazed the innocent civilians into unconsciousness, and blasted The Brain.
Luckily, at this point, Carl the ex-comic book store manager plowed through the front door of the bank in an armored car. He ran over Gigawatt, then back up over his skull for good measure. Then Carl and the Flying Ferret loaded up the motionless Candy Man and The Brain into the car and drove off, laughing all the way.Then there was the heated argument about how much cash one can shove into four bank bags. Kay originally said a couple thousand dollars, but we booed him loudly, and now desperate Internet research is going on.
So, our characters have made a name for themselves and have also made a pile of money. The only thing we lost was, well, half of my character's brain. Fair trade, I guess.
We are now diligently awaiting our phone call from the International Organization of Evil so we can become card carrying members.
- Ark
P.S. - I am deeply concerned that the only time that we really cooperate as players is when we are being evil bastards. Okay, well, I am not too concerned, but it does make me wonder . . . :)
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Dungeonspiration: Fellow Players
Kay is playing Advanced Dungeons and Dragons Second Edition with us. I've seen him play him play quite a few characters. He's the group's min-max guru. Kay tweaks out his characters until they are . . . well . . . completely ineffectual at doing anything except that ONE THING he designed them to do.
I describe Kay's characters as awesome looking sports cars that look great in the garage, but drop their transmissions in the driveway on the way to the street. It's not uncommon for other players just to kill his characters in an effort to put them out of their own misery.
Tim had us rolling straight 4d6 characters for the game. I rolled up an awesome character - probably the best rolls for a character I've made in 30 years - so good that I made her a ranger. Kay, on the other had, rolled a big pile of crap.
Torvalds' best stat is 12, and it just goes quickly downhill from there. This is horrifying to Kay. He's a young punk in his early 20s. He is not used to the realities of the old school dice gods. Tim countered every attempt that Kay made for squeezing anything min-maxy out of the character.
So Torvalds became a magic-user - a magic user with a 15% chance that his one spell each day will fail.
I'm not sure what snapped in Kay's head, but Torvalds personality came to crystal clarity within a few moments after the comeliness, height, and weight rolls. He was fat and ugly.
Torvalds bought himself an ox, and named it Imbrogli-ox. He got a saddle and a collapsible ladder, so he could heft his sack-of-potatoes-like body onto Imbrogliox. Torvalds refuses to get off his ox, unless it is to sleep in his lavish tent. He even gripes about having to get off the ox to go into buildings with doorways that are ill-equipped to handle an ox.
He also has a beagle called Willington. The beagle is about as useless at Torvalds is himself, being afraid to go off-road.
Torvalds spent the remainder of his money on expensive steak dinners and grapes. He's never not eating - constantly popping grapes into his mouth. Torvalds feeds Willington steak while poor starving village children beg him for food.
We all know that first level magic-users are useless. Most of the time, the player tries hard to not be that way. This time - it's the perfect storm - a perfectly useless character statistics-wise being played in a perfectly useless manner. It's hilarious - and it doesn't help that Kay is constantly miming eating grapes while talking just like Hedonism Bot.
Tim has taken to calling the useless magic-user Cartman Harkonnen - which is very apt. If only he had a suit that would make him fly and a bag of Cheesy Poufs - it would be perfect.
The Boy calls him Troll-Balls, but that's another thing entirely . . .
So go pay attention to your fellow players as they breath life into characters. They very well could be up to something amazing while you are not paying attention. Um, not that Cartman Harkonnen is amazing - quite the opposite - but it is gut-bustingly funny all the same. It may just inspire you to do something inspiring.
- Ark
P.S. But watch - Torvalds will probably save the entire party one day. :)
I describe Kay's characters as awesome looking sports cars that look great in the garage, but drop their transmissions in the driveway on the way to the street. It's not uncommon for other players just to kill his characters in an effort to put them out of their own misery.
Tim had us rolling straight 4d6 characters for the game. I rolled up an awesome character - probably the best rolls for a character I've made in 30 years - so good that I made her a ranger. Kay, on the other had, rolled a big pile of crap.
Torvalds' best stat is 12, and it just goes quickly downhill from there. This is horrifying to Kay. He's a young punk in his early 20s. He is not used to the realities of the old school dice gods. Tim countered every attempt that Kay made for squeezing anything min-maxy out of the character.
So Torvalds became a magic-user - a magic user with a 15% chance that his one spell each day will fail.
I'm not sure what snapped in Kay's head, but Torvalds personality came to crystal clarity within a few moments after the comeliness, height, and weight rolls. He was fat and ugly.
Torvalds bought himself an ox, and named it Imbrogli-ox. He got a saddle and a collapsible ladder, so he could heft his sack-of-potatoes-like body onto Imbrogliox. Torvalds refuses to get off his ox, unless it is to sleep in his lavish tent. He even gripes about having to get off the ox to go into buildings with doorways that are ill-equipped to handle an ox.
He also has a beagle called Willington. The beagle is about as useless at Torvalds is himself, being afraid to go off-road.
Torvalds spent the remainder of his money on expensive steak dinners and grapes. He's never not eating - constantly popping grapes into his mouth. Torvalds feeds Willington steak while poor starving village children beg him for food.
We all know that first level magic-users are useless. Most of the time, the player tries hard to not be that way. This time - it's the perfect storm - a perfectly useless character statistics-wise being played in a perfectly useless manner. It's hilarious - and it doesn't help that Kay is constantly miming eating grapes while talking just like Hedonism Bot.
Tim has taken to calling the useless magic-user Cartman Harkonnen - which is very apt. If only he had a suit that would make him fly and a bag of Cheesy Poufs - it would be perfect.
The Boy calls him Troll-Balls, but that's another thing entirely . . .
So go pay attention to your fellow players as they breath life into characters. They very well could be up to something amazing while you are not paying attention. Um, not that Cartman Harkonnen is amazing - quite the opposite - but it is gut-bustingly funny all the same. It may just inspire you to do something inspiring.
- Ark
P.S. But watch - Torvalds will probably save the entire party one day. :)
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