I love the look of this basement door. Since it's below the level of the street, it suggests a level of secrecy about it. However, if it is such a "below the common notice" bit of architecture, why decorate it with the nice stone accents around the frame and on either side?
Few buildings are built like this any more so it suggests that the building itself is old.
And old buildings are FULL of stories; sometimes secret stories.
if ever there were a doorway that could lead the way to some clandestine meeting, here it is.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Friday, September 21, 2007
Concept Art: Character
I found this guy doing a search for a demon's name.There's something about him that resembles a WoD chracter
Maybe he's a a Magus?
Concept Art: Props
Imagine finding this skull somewhere. Definite proof of vampirism and as soon as you move it into the daylight it explodes into ash.Masks
This is the dorsal view of a bat's skull. I love how the eyes are huge and slanted.
This would make for an awsome mask if you could somehow get it cast out of hydrostone
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Wyck: I've got Wounded
Villa Park - Lapine Medical Center
A simple small dwelling. From the door one can see the kitchen, living room, and a hallway leading to some other parts of the dwelling. The living room, which is immediately past the door, is furnished lightly with some paintings, a few bits of holo-art, and a large television off to the right.
The kitchen is made entirely of chrome, glittering in the artificial light and practically sparkling when things are moved around. It is kept meticulously clean at all times and is well equipped.
The hallway, is peeked down, seems to connect to some bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as to a back exit.
Contents:
Elanor
Shoebox
Fridge
dufflebag
Obvious exits:
Street
The door upstairs is practically broken down as three young man force their way through it in a rush of cuts and bruises. Through the hall and down to the medical center's basement, one voice calls out above the screams and moans of the others,
"Trix! Doc! Where are you? I've got wounded!"
The smell of blood and burnt flesh begins to fill the stairway as Wyck arrives with two others; one limping with a hunk of cloth wrapped around his thigh and the other with an old t-shirt trying to keep a cut on his forehead from bleeding into his eye. They are both street-rats, but the quality of their clothes suggests that they're not bums or one of the homeless. They were wearing fairly nice garments that have now been soiled with blood, street grime, and what appears to be carbon from a fire. Wyck is the last to enter the room, holding a wooden sword, a japanese boken, out as though his life depended upon it.
Elanor is just getting to her security chair when the poor door is pried open. She presses the open button to possible spare it from further harm as injured gangers spill into her home. One ear is stock straight, the other off to the side, angled downwards. A brief instant of hesitation before she moves towards the closest, "The able should bring the disabled downstairs to the operating room. Swipe medical insurance cards at the terminal there."
"They don't /have/ medical insurance cards, Trix!." Wyck's voice is strained, almost hoarse as though he's been screaming. Finally content that nothing's following them, he relaxes his defensive stance with the boken and lets it drop to his side; the edge of the wooden sword scored with what would appear to be claw-marks and scorching. Sliding the 'weapon' into his belt as though it were scabbard, he reaches down to grab the legs of the one who was injured in the thigh. "It's ok Benny, she's going to fix ya up right." Putting him on the table as he's the less ambulatory, he turns to the other one and asks, "Zen, have a seat bud. Ya got him here. It's ok now."
The guy with the head wound takes a seat and the blood from his scalp continues to seep through the t-shirt bandage.
Elanor waves a small furry hand, "Hey, don't do what you can't do, a girl can dream." she huffs, looking over the man on the table even as she pulls a stool over to step up onto and get a better vantage. She digs into a pocket and procures a scalpel and a tricorder looking device she begins to sweep over the man slowly.
The wounds appear to be slashes, not from any blade but rather a claw - three of them in fact. The leg has been slashed open and the femur snapped.
Elanor clucks her tongue softly before she gives the tool she's using a sharp twist, reconfiguring it for the new task of dermal regeneration, slowly sweeping its regenerative light over the worst bleeding as the other hand digs about for a bottle, "Feed him two of these, one at a time."
Wyck takes the offered bottle and stands close to Benny's head so he can see him. "Benny, it's me." The blonde-haired guy is starting to fade with the blood loss and the pain, "I want you to swallow this," he offers one of the pills and then the other. "She's going to fix ya up." The smile he offers has been made a hundred times before by those men who command others and attempt to try and convey confidence and hope in a wink. As Ben's injuries are being seen to, Zen's eyes begin to flitter. The blood seeping from his forehead apparently has drained him of his conscious thoughts and with a slump he falls out of the seat and to the ground.
"Zen!"
Elanor issues forth a colorful word known only in disreputable sections of LATMA, betraying her occasional habit of wandering away from the safety of home and the security measures therein. With the bleeding staunched and the drugs tingling through the injured man's body to work in her stead, she hops down and begins waving at the still upright gangers, "Ok, chop chop, I need these people downstairs now so we can get this under control. Move it!"
Villa Park - Small House - Operating Room
This cellar glitters with sparkling metal and smells of exotic drugs. The walls are lined with all manner of curious tincture and pharmaceutical products. All the tools one could need to research, test, and create entirely new medicines seems to be present, crammed into the ordered place.
Hanging over it all is one, large, digital clock that reads the time silently. Off to the left is a monitor with a keyboard, likely a computer, and to the right is some strange device that constantly crackles with electricity. There are a few chairs scattered about in convenient places as well to top things off.
Contents:
Elanor
Obvious exits:
Out
Wyck picks Zen up and drags him into the operating room since he's passed out. Benny is a different story. With Elanor's help, he manages to get the two injured people down into the operating room where she can tend their wounds more effeciently. "Zen. Zen. Wake up dude. Come on now, stay with me."
In her native environment, the doctor is much more efficient. With assisting pulls, straps, and grabber arms, she is able to rapidly analyze the next in line, which would be Zen. She spares a glance towards Wyck, "No one's died on my table yet," she murmurs, the air going thick with the resonance of her will, a calculated but wild regrowth, like a crazy fractal pattern in the lights, smells and even the sound of the lab area, weaving her miracles into the flesh of the injured man.
Wyck turns towards the rabbit-themed doctor and pleads with his eyes, "Trix. Save them." It's a simple request but one pulled from the bottom of his soul.
Benny begins to moan here and there, the nightmarish visions of earlier begining to wander in and out of his thoughts. It is then that Wyck begins to feel the brunt of what has happened. His body begins to slow here and there as he tries to help the two guys. Holding both of their hands in his own as though he were trying to link them together through himself - daring death to come for any of them.
Elanor is a rapid worker when motivated, but she has not the ability to work on two people simultaneously. A piercing shriek makes her ears go flat on her head as she snaps her view onto Benny, then back at her current patient, "Your friend is leaving, grab the metal pads over there." She gestures with an ear, "Rub them together, then press to his chest a moment." she instructs, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, "And be quick!"
Wyck uhs in confusion for a moment and then stands up to look for the metal pads. He doesn't want to let go of either of them but as he sees her begining to become more frenetic with her pace he drops them. Rubbing them together like he's seen in the old vids he walks over and waits for her to say the magic word.
"Do it!" she says in a sharp snap, general soft patience worn away to a razor point while life and death dance so darkly in her usually clean working area. On the positive, her patient seems to be doing fairly well under the battery of applied will and advanced technology, "Pre-programmed" she mutters as if that should explain something.
Wyck pushes the pads to Benny's chest and screams "Clear!" as though it were a magical phrase once uttered by the gods at the moment of human creation. Pulling them back from the chest, he attempts to see if there's been any improvement. "Come on Benny. Come back."
The loud thin wail stutters at the moment of contact, the detected heart jumping at the touch of electrical life, but it returns, wailing, a keen electronic howl for the dying. "Again!" She flashes her teeth, gritted, as she runs light fingers over console, "Damn it all where's that assistant," she fumes, though not looking around for said assistant, focused as she can be.
Wyck presses the pads against the guy's chest with a repeat of the power-word. "Clear!" The shock of the pads send a ripple through Benny's body. As he's standing this close to the doc, it's possible that she could see the large chunk of denim that's been ripped from his vest - exposing his flank. The flesh is still pink from where his pattern has been repairing itself from a three-clawed slash.
The sound stutters again, then fades, the tension in the doctor fades with it, released from her body in a long slow sigh. Elsewhere in the room, the monitor has two lines, one turning steadily green, the other silently faded from deep flashing red to a dull grey. Automatedly, the city files are updated to time of death and appropriate files formed. Her winning streak couldn't have lasted forever, not that this rests entirely so casually for the doctor, who is frowning heavily even as she finishes.
Wyck glances up to the doc, his eyes begining to fill with tears as the sound of the fading machine fills his ears. "No..." He doesn't want to believe it. "NO!" And with that, the pads are launched across the room. The outburst of emotion seems to smack him in the face and he reaches out with his hands to grip an imaginary bar before him. Fingers wrap and clench around the bar as tear-filled eyes well up and pour onto his face. "No. No. No." he repeats the chant as the hate and sorrow pour from him into his clenched fists.
The 'focus' ends with the suddeness of breaking a shoe-string and he turns to her to ask, "What about Zen?" He turns to see the man with the scalp-lac in hopes that all is not lost.
The metal pads accept their abuse with only the clatter of settling on the floor. The doctor raises an ear, "Your friend is fine, the trauma is under control, should have him back up on his feet soon." She glances off, "Sooner if you don't mind awkward questions, sooner than that if he wants to take a bath." a soft cluck, "I'm sorry." The three syllables emerge heavy, barely reaching you before they flop to the ground limply, Elanor doing what she has to do without the bounce she had just a few days prior.
Wyck walks up to Zen and places his hand upon the man's eyes to close them. "Zen. She's going to make you better. Trust me." Turning back to the doc, he quietly nods to her as though he were giving permission for her to use the 'juice'. "She's got these machines that can stitch you up in a second. You'll be fine." As a street-rat, Zen probably has no idea what can and can't be done with modern medical technology so how's he to know that it's not coincidental.
Zen is lifted smoothly and a bay slides out from the wall, filled with green solution, which Zen is slid into, sealing up shortly after even as its machinery humms gently in a warm up cycle. A breathing mask is slid into place and other tubes cover other portions of the body that may require evacuation, "What happened?" asks Elanor as she hops off her stool, seemingly confident that Zen will be fine.
Wyck begins to help 'tidy' up Benny's body as he speaks, "They'd been nervous about things on the street for a while. I didn't know what it was and couldn't find anything to go on. I moved them around for a while, to keep them safe. They went back to an old squat and that's when 'it' found them.'"
Elanor wriggles her clawed fingers, though much smaller claws than what could have done the damage, "Something large and mean." she cants her head, "Werewolf?" She looks down to the man devoid of life and frowns again, glancing around in the realization that her den of life making and alteration has precious little accomodation for the dead, "Do you.. have arrangements?" she asks tenderly, "Or..?"
Elanor drops the second question in favor of moving to the monitor and pressing buttons at an idle pace, "Your friend was gushing on the inside. Dead man walking." she looks over her shoulder, "It wasn't your fault."
Wyck finishes tucking in this and that on Benny's body before pulling out a wad of NuYen from inside his vest. "Here. Let me know if you need more." He swallows dryly and tries to think for a moment. "I can't think of a single reason it went for them. There's no reason..." he trails off as one hand rests upon the handle of the boken stuck into his belt. Like a Samurai, he begins to pace back and forth in thought. "It definately wasn't from this world so how did it get in?"
Elanor holds up a hand, "No charge for incomplete jobs." she refuses the mony and wanders towards you, arms crossed under chest, "Can you start from the beginning, hmm? What is it and why is it bothering you?"
Wyck asks, "Can you keep an eye on him," he pats Benny's chest twice and turns back to the rabbit-eared doctor. "I need to go find some people to help me with this."
Elanor lifts her shoulders slowly, "Unless you.. have specific desires, I could handle it for you?" she offers, sounding more than a little awkward in the offering, shuffling faintly.
Wyck shakes his head. "I can take care of it, but I need to get some help first. He's not going across alone." Leaving the money on the table, he walks over and kisses his finger-tips before pressing them against the shelf where Zen is being repaired as though offering a final blessing. "I'll be back before dawn."
Elanor nods, and rolls a hand, "When he awakens, what should I tell him?" she steps along after you, a trailing white ghost of long ears, "I'm sure he'll want to know where you are, and what's going on... and why his friend is dead on the floor. I don't exactly look like your usual doctor, he may be a little alarmed."
Wyck asks, "Can you keep him asleep until I get back? He won't understand and it'll be easier to just let him wake up at my place." Pausing by the stairs he waits for the answer before he takes off.
Elanor nods lightly, "I'll keep him under until you're back then." a soft cluck, then she looks at the money, and sighs, "That'll half pay for the door repair." she murmurs, talking herself into keeping it.
"Thanks." echoes from Wyck as he climbs the stairs to leave.
A simple small dwelling. From the door one can see the kitchen, living room, and a hallway leading to some other parts of the dwelling. The living room, which is immediately past the door, is furnished lightly with some paintings, a few bits of holo-art, and a large television off to the right.
The kitchen is made entirely of chrome, glittering in the artificial light and practically sparkling when things are moved around. It is kept meticulously clean at all times and is well equipped.
The hallway, is peeked down, seems to connect to some bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as to a back exit.
Contents:
Elanor
Shoebox
Fridge
dufflebag
Obvious exits:
Street
The door upstairs is practically broken down as three young man force their way through it in a rush of cuts and bruises. Through the hall and down to the medical center's basement, one voice calls out above the screams and moans of the others,
"Trix! Doc! Where are you? I've got wounded!"
The smell of blood and burnt flesh begins to fill the stairway as Wyck arrives with two others; one limping with a hunk of cloth wrapped around his thigh and the other with an old t-shirt trying to keep a cut on his forehead from bleeding into his eye. They are both street-rats, but the quality of their clothes suggests that they're not bums or one of the homeless. They were wearing fairly nice garments that have now been soiled with blood, street grime, and what appears to be carbon from a fire. Wyck is the last to enter the room, holding a wooden sword, a japanese boken, out as though his life depended upon it.
Elanor is just getting to her security chair when the poor door is pried open. She presses the open button to possible spare it from further harm as injured gangers spill into her home. One ear is stock straight, the other off to the side, angled downwards. A brief instant of hesitation before she moves towards the closest, "The able should bring the disabled downstairs to the operating room. Swipe medical insurance cards at the terminal there."
"They don't /have/ medical insurance cards, Trix!." Wyck's voice is strained, almost hoarse as though he's been screaming. Finally content that nothing's following them, he relaxes his defensive stance with the boken and lets it drop to his side; the edge of the wooden sword scored with what would appear to be claw-marks and scorching. Sliding the 'weapon' into his belt as though it were scabbard, he reaches down to grab the legs of the one who was injured in the thigh. "It's ok Benny, she's going to fix ya up right." Putting him on the table as he's the less ambulatory, he turns to the other one and asks, "Zen, have a seat bud. Ya got him here. It's ok now."
The guy with the head wound takes a seat and the blood from his scalp continues to seep through the t-shirt bandage.
Elanor waves a small furry hand, "Hey, don't do what you can't do, a girl can dream." she huffs, looking over the man on the table even as she pulls a stool over to step up onto and get a better vantage. She digs into a pocket and procures a scalpel and a tricorder looking device she begins to sweep over the man slowly.
The wounds appear to be slashes, not from any blade but rather a claw - three of them in fact. The leg has been slashed open and the femur snapped.
Elanor clucks her tongue softly before she gives the tool she's using a sharp twist, reconfiguring it for the new task of dermal regeneration, slowly sweeping its regenerative light over the worst bleeding as the other hand digs about for a bottle, "Feed him two of these, one at a time."
Wyck takes the offered bottle and stands close to Benny's head so he can see him. "Benny, it's me." The blonde-haired guy is starting to fade with the blood loss and the pain, "I want you to swallow this," he offers one of the pills and then the other. "She's going to fix ya up." The smile he offers has been made a hundred times before by those men who command others and attempt to try and convey confidence and hope in a wink. As Ben's injuries are being seen to, Zen's eyes begin to flitter. The blood seeping from his forehead apparently has drained him of his conscious thoughts and with a slump he falls out of the seat and to the ground.
"Zen!"
Elanor issues forth a colorful word known only in disreputable sections of LATMA, betraying her occasional habit of wandering away from the safety of home and the security measures therein. With the bleeding staunched and the drugs tingling through the injured man's body to work in her stead, she hops down and begins waving at the still upright gangers, "Ok, chop chop, I need these people downstairs now so we can get this under control. Move it!"
Villa Park - Small House - Operating Room
This cellar glitters with sparkling metal and smells of exotic drugs. The walls are lined with all manner of curious tincture and pharmaceutical products. All the tools one could need to research, test, and create entirely new medicines seems to be present, crammed into the ordered place.
Hanging over it all is one, large, digital clock that reads the time silently. Off to the left is a monitor with a keyboard, likely a computer, and to the right is some strange device that constantly crackles with electricity. There are a few chairs scattered about in convenient places as well to top things off.
Contents:
Elanor
Obvious exits:
Out
Wyck picks Zen up and drags him into the operating room since he's passed out. Benny is a different story. With Elanor's help, he manages to get the two injured people down into the operating room where she can tend their wounds more effeciently. "Zen. Zen. Wake up dude. Come on now, stay with me."
In her native environment, the doctor is much more efficient. With assisting pulls, straps, and grabber arms, she is able to rapidly analyze the next in line, which would be Zen. She spares a glance towards Wyck, "No one's died on my table yet," she murmurs, the air going thick with the resonance of her will, a calculated but wild regrowth, like a crazy fractal pattern in the lights, smells and even the sound of the lab area, weaving her miracles into the flesh of the injured man.
Wyck turns towards the rabbit-themed doctor and pleads with his eyes, "Trix. Save them." It's a simple request but one pulled from the bottom of his soul.
Benny begins to moan here and there, the nightmarish visions of earlier begining to wander in and out of his thoughts. It is then that Wyck begins to feel the brunt of what has happened. His body begins to slow here and there as he tries to help the two guys. Holding both of their hands in his own as though he were trying to link them together through himself - daring death to come for any of them.
Elanor is a rapid worker when motivated, but she has not the ability to work on two people simultaneously. A piercing shriek makes her ears go flat on her head as she snaps her view onto Benny, then back at her current patient, "Your friend is leaving, grab the metal pads over there." She gestures with an ear, "Rub them together, then press to his chest a moment." she instructs, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, "And be quick!"
Wyck uhs in confusion for a moment and then stands up to look for the metal pads. He doesn't want to let go of either of them but as he sees her begining to become more frenetic with her pace he drops them. Rubbing them together like he's seen in the old vids he walks over and waits for her to say the magic word.
"Do it!" she says in a sharp snap, general soft patience worn away to a razor point while life and death dance so darkly in her usually clean working area. On the positive, her patient seems to be doing fairly well under the battery of applied will and advanced technology, "Pre-programmed" she mutters as if that should explain something.
Wyck pushes the pads to Benny's chest and screams "Clear!" as though it were a magical phrase once uttered by the gods at the moment of human creation. Pulling them back from the chest, he attempts to see if there's been any improvement. "Come on Benny. Come back."
The loud thin wail stutters at the moment of contact, the detected heart jumping at the touch of electrical life, but it returns, wailing, a keen electronic howl for the dying. "Again!" She flashes her teeth, gritted, as she runs light fingers over console, "Damn it all where's that assistant," she fumes, though not looking around for said assistant, focused as she can be.
Wyck presses the pads against the guy's chest with a repeat of the power-word. "Clear!" The shock of the pads send a ripple through Benny's body. As he's standing this close to the doc, it's possible that she could see the large chunk of denim that's been ripped from his vest - exposing his flank. The flesh is still pink from where his pattern has been repairing itself from a three-clawed slash.
The sound stutters again, then fades, the tension in the doctor fades with it, released from her body in a long slow sigh. Elsewhere in the room, the monitor has two lines, one turning steadily green, the other silently faded from deep flashing red to a dull grey. Automatedly, the city files are updated to time of death and appropriate files formed. Her winning streak couldn't have lasted forever, not that this rests entirely so casually for the doctor, who is frowning heavily even as she finishes.
Wyck glances up to the doc, his eyes begining to fill with tears as the sound of the fading machine fills his ears. "No..." He doesn't want to believe it. "NO!" And with that, the pads are launched across the room. The outburst of emotion seems to smack him in the face and he reaches out with his hands to grip an imaginary bar before him. Fingers wrap and clench around the bar as tear-filled eyes well up and pour onto his face. "No. No. No." he repeats the chant as the hate and sorrow pour from him into his clenched fists.
The 'focus' ends with the suddeness of breaking a shoe-string and he turns to her to ask, "What about Zen?" He turns to see the man with the scalp-lac in hopes that all is not lost.
The metal pads accept their abuse with only the clatter of settling on the floor. The doctor raises an ear, "Your friend is fine, the trauma is under control, should have him back up on his feet soon." She glances off, "Sooner if you don't mind awkward questions, sooner than that if he wants to take a bath." a soft cluck, "I'm sorry." The three syllables emerge heavy, barely reaching you before they flop to the ground limply, Elanor doing what she has to do without the bounce she had just a few days prior.
Wyck walks up to Zen and places his hand upon the man's eyes to close them. "Zen. She's going to make you better. Trust me." Turning back to the doc, he quietly nods to her as though he were giving permission for her to use the 'juice'. "She's got these machines that can stitch you up in a second. You'll be fine." As a street-rat, Zen probably has no idea what can and can't be done with modern medical technology so how's he to know that it's not coincidental.
Zen is lifted smoothly and a bay slides out from the wall, filled with green solution, which Zen is slid into, sealing up shortly after even as its machinery humms gently in a warm up cycle. A breathing mask is slid into place and other tubes cover other portions of the body that may require evacuation, "What happened?" asks Elanor as she hops off her stool, seemingly confident that Zen will be fine.
Wyck begins to help 'tidy' up Benny's body as he speaks, "They'd been nervous about things on the street for a while. I didn't know what it was and couldn't find anything to go on. I moved them around for a while, to keep them safe. They went back to an old squat and that's when 'it' found them.'"
Elanor wriggles her clawed fingers, though much smaller claws than what could have done the damage, "Something large and mean." she cants her head, "Werewolf?" She looks down to the man devoid of life and frowns again, glancing around in the realization that her den of life making and alteration has precious little accomodation for the dead, "Do you.. have arrangements?" she asks tenderly, "Or..?"
Elanor drops the second question in favor of moving to the monitor and pressing buttons at an idle pace, "Your friend was gushing on the inside. Dead man walking." she looks over her shoulder, "It wasn't your fault."
Wyck finishes tucking in this and that on Benny's body before pulling out a wad of NuYen from inside his vest. "Here. Let me know if you need more." He swallows dryly and tries to think for a moment. "I can't think of a single reason it went for them. There's no reason..." he trails off as one hand rests upon the handle of the boken stuck into his belt. Like a Samurai, he begins to pace back and forth in thought. "It definately wasn't from this world so how did it get in?"
Elanor holds up a hand, "No charge for incomplete jobs." she refuses the mony and wanders towards you, arms crossed under chest, "Can you start from the beginning, hmm? What is it and why is it bothering you?"
Wyck asks, "Can you keep an eye on him," he pats Benny's chest twice and turns back to the rabbit-eared doctor. "I need to go find some people to help me with this."
Elanor lifts her shoulders slowly, "Unless you.. have specific desires, I could handle it for you?" she offers, sounding more than a little awkward in the offering, shuffling faintly.
Wyck shakes his head. "I can take care of it, but I need to get some help first. He's not going across alone." Leaving the money on the table, he walks over and kisses his finger-tips before pressing them against the shelf where Zen is being repaired as though offering a final blessing. "I'll be back before dawn."
Elanor nods, and rolls a hand, "When he awakens, what should I tell him?" she steps along after you, a trailing white ghost of long ears, "I'm sure he'll want to know where you are, and what's going on... and why his friend is dead on the floor. I don't exactly look like your usual doctor, he may be a little alarmed."
Wyck asks, "Can you keep him asleep until I get back? He won't understand and it'll be easier to just let him wake up at my place." Pausing by the stairs he waits for the answer before he takes off.
Elanor nods lightly, "I'll keep him under until you're back then." a soft cluck, then she looks at the money, and sighs, "That'll half pay for the door repair." she murmurs, talking herself into keeping it.
"Thanks." echoes from Wyck as he climbs the stairs to leave.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 17, 2007
A ring
This is the Alchemical symbol for Mercury. When I saw it, I was reminded of a signet ring. I'm not sure which character it would be fore but I like the design.
mercury rules communication, travel, technology. mercury transcended both the solid and liquid states, both earth and heaven, both life and death. It symbolized Hermes himself, the guide to the Above and Below
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