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 Post subject: Tyger's Shorts
Unread postPosted: Wed Jun 11, 2014 6:53 pm 
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Realm: Staghelm (Alliance), Wyrmrest Accord (Horde)
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OH hey a little place where I can drop short story type stuff from time to time. I will try to keep everything organized up here to make finding stuff easier.

To begin with, have a teaser of my Zoids: New Century Zero fan-fic. I'm curious to test out my writing style and see how people like it.

The thundering of a sonic boom sounded just above the red horn, shaking the zoid and its pilot. Faolain grit her teeth through the shaking, her hands tightening on the controls as she jumped the red horn forward, just missing the storm sworder's fire. She pressed a couple of buttons, keeping her zoid stationary to better engage the set of high powered radars located in the frills of the red horn. The frills waved to and fro to pick up their opponent's location, knowing that the latest pass over would require a little bit of recoup time on the sworder's behalf. Bingo. Her screen beeped and a holo of the storm sworder appeared, coordinates tracking its location and movement scrolling rapidly on a side screen. "Nice work Red," Faolain murmured. "Looks like he's going to come straight at us again; the fool already has the wing blades extended. Guess he used all his ammo on that last pass." Red rumbled in response to his pilot.

Their opponent's holo disappeared, the coordinate screen going crazy to try and keep up, as the storm sworder suddenly picked up speed, moving faster than Red's radars could register. Faolain smirked. "Here he comes." Knowing that her red horn was immensely slower than the oncoming zoid, she slowly set about side-stepping from her current position, banking on the opposing pilot's inability to make a minute correction mid-screaming flight path. She fired a couple of shots in the sworder's direction as a distraction. A flash of sunlight on metal warned Faolain of the enemy's approach. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment, knowing her drastically slower zoid had only a split second to react against the amazingly fast flyer. Releasing her breath, Faolain deftly maneuvered Red's controls, the red horn lunging forward and throwing his head up just as the storm sworder came screaming by. "No way!" the other pilot yelled as his zoid crashed to the ground, command system frozen.

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Follow me on Tumblr! @projectashley
Like Crochet? You can see what I make @ facebook.com/AshedCreations

Lord Godfrey wrote:
Some people only want to watch the world burn. Others want to be the ones responsible for burning it...



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 Post subject: Re: Tyger's Shorts
Unread postPosted: Fri Jun 13, 2014 12:46 am 
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Joined: Thu Mar 11, 2010 10:00 pm
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Location: New zealand, auckland
Realm: dath remar
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Neat :3

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I am a professional 2D animator :3
Heres my DA page
My wow model sheets (NSFW) that anyone can use!
First 251 Pokemon in Adventure time style! By me XD
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 Post subject: Re: Tyger's Shorts
Unread postPosted: Sat Jun 28, 2014 2:03 am 
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Joined: Wed Sep 15, 2010 10:15 pm
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Realm: Staghelm (Alliance), Wyrmrest Accord (Horde)
Gender: Female playing both genders

Team Faileas: Chapter 1



The thundering of a sonic boom sounded just above the red horn, shaking the zoid and its pilot. Faolain grit her teeth through the shaking, her hands tightening on the controls as she jumped the red horn forward, just missing the storm sworder's fire. She pressed a couple of buttons, keeping her zoid stationary to better engage the set of high powered radars located in the frills of the red horn. The frills waved to and fro to pick up their opponent's location, knowing that the latest pass over would require a little bit of recoup time on the sworder's behalf. Bingo. Her screen beeped and a holo of the storm sworder appeared, coordinates tracking its location and movement scrolling rapidly on a side screen. "Nice work Red," Faolain murmured. "Looks like he's going to come straight at us again; the fool already has the wing blades extended. Guess he used all his ammo on that last pass." Red rumbled in response to his pilot.

Their opponent's holo disappeared, the coordinate screen going crazy to try and keep up, as the storm sworder suddenly picked up speed, moving faster than Red's radars could register. Faolain smirked. "Here he comes." Knowing that her red horn was immensely slower than the oncoming zoid, she slowly set about side-stepping from her current position, banking on the opposing pilot's inability to make a minute correction mid-screaming flight path. She fired a couple of shots in the sworder's direction as a distraction. A flash of sunlight on metal warned Faolain of the enemy's approach. Taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment, knowing her drastically slower zoid had only a split second to react against the amazingly fast flyer. Releasing her breath, Faolain deftly maneuvered Red's controls, the red horn lunging forward and throwing his head up just as the storm sworder came screaming by. "No way!" the other pilot yelled as his zoid crashed to the ground, command system frozen.

Red roared a victory before Faolain unbuckled herself and the cockpit opened. She jumped down to the ground. The young woman smiled up at her zoid before giving a last look to her opponent as the judge announced her the winner. “Well, that was an interesting battle,” she commented to no one in particular. Closing her eyes and shaking her head, waist length raven hair swaying from side to side, she inhaled slowly. Reopening her eyes she took a quick look around Red, noticing that their final attack had caused one of the radar frills to be cut in half. Taking a moment to grab the broken piece, Faolain headed back to where her gustav and trailer were parked. She hummed to herself as she brought the transport over to her zoid, loading Red up and returning to Romeo City.
--

Her arrival back home was met by her parents and younger brother. Faolain took a moment to look them over, a fond smile crossing her ivory features. Her father, bless his aging heart, was a tall man with a lean, wiry build. his arms and back were roped with muscle, his skin tanned and leathery; years of hard work in the sun taking their toll. Black hair peppered with gray showed signs of thinning from years of running his hands through it. Faolain’s mother, on the other hand, was a sprite, energetic, curvy woman--clearly where Faolain gained her facial features and curves from. Marv had one arm wrapped around his wife, the comfort and ease of their posture suggesting a long love life.

Faolain’s brother, like Faolain herself, was tall, pulling from their father’s height. His shaggy raven hair was swept back, emerald eyes dancing with joy at the sight of his sister’s return. He was built bulky with muscle gained from his passion for repairing zoids. The fond look still plastered on her face, Faolain jumped out of her gustav. Her brother ran up to her and the siblings laughed as they high-fived one another. “Yo sis, we caught your win on the TV. That was pretty awesome how you beat that storm sworder. I bet no one would have thought of a red horn engaging in melee like that.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Faolain tried her best to be modest. “Thanks bro. Truthfully it was just a rookie pilot. He didn’t know how to fly that zoid properly.”

He nodded, a knowing glint in his eye. “What kind of damage did Red take?”

Shrugging, she replied, “Nothing terrible. The usual bit of shelling. Bastard’s blade took off one of my radars in the final attack. The busted piece is in the gustav.”

“Cool. I’ll take a look at him and get you ready for action.” He dashed over to the gustav, driving it and the red horn into the large garage he and his dad had built for Tommy to repair zoids in. Faolain loved to let him work on her red horn when she battled close to home; he did as good or a better of a job than the mechanics in the cities and it gave him much needed experience, as well as saving a lot of her winnings to use on other things.

“Thanks!” Faolain called to him, chuckling at Tommy’s eagerness before walking up to her waiting parents, hugging them and placing an arm over their shoulders as the threesome walked into the house.

“He’s your biggest fan, you know,” her mother whispered conspiratorially to Faolain, a loving, playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Mama!” Faolain whispered with fake admonishment, a warm smile lighting up her soft, feminine features. A small sigh escaped her as she fought between looking exasperated and looking fond. “I know he is. I have the best support system in the world right here. That’s why I keep a photo of you all in Red’s cockpit.”

They had made it to the kitchen--a place where her mom always had something delicious cooking. While it certainly wasn’t the largest of kitchens, they had found a way to make it feel open and large with the soft yellow paint, bay window to the backyard, and simple, yet effective, decorations. The longest counter also served as a bar with stools, and it was there that Faolain parked herself. Her father clapped her on the back as he walked by to stand, facing her, on the other side of the bar while her mother bustled about making food.

“Well daughter, you certainly have done us proud,” Marv said approvingly. His warm smile enhanced the lines and wrinkles of his leathered face. He shook his head and ran his hands through his thinning hair. “I think there’s a zoid gene runnin’ through you two kids or somethin’! I swear Tommy’s almost as obsessed with those damned machines as you are!”

Both Faolain and her mother chuckled at his expense, giving each other a knowing look. Faolain shook her head, raven hair sliding over her back and shoulders, a cheerful grin lighting up her pleasant features. “Well don’t you worry, Daddy. Tommy seems pretty content to hang around here fixing random zoids up. I try to visit home as often as I can between battles.”

Marv sighed, raking his fingers through his hair again. Confliction and relief warred over his aging face. “I know darlin’. It’s jest… I’m not ready for both of y’all to be so grown up and independent yet.” He looked wistfully out the window. A smile of remembrance tugged the corners of his mouth. “I kin still picture pickin’ you up and twirlin’ you around in them fields.”

Trista and her daughter shared their knowing look again, looking like conspirators to a secret Marv didn’t seem aware of, rolling their eyes with good nature as they each had a similar reaction. “Oh Daddy…”

“Oh Marv…”

The two women burst into a fit of giggles, causing Marv to raise an eyebrow and wear a mock frown of indignation. “And what’s that s’posed to mean, you two?”

“I’ll let you have this one, Mom.” Faolain grinned and leaned back on her stool, hands clasped over her stomach.

Her mother wore a near identical grin. The resemblance between Trista and Faolain was uncanny. Where their daughter had grabbed Marv’s height and more wiry build, she had grabbed Trista’s facial features--all sapphire eyes, high cheekbones with just enough feminine softness to keep them from looking too sharp and angular, and full, pouting lips. Trista’s face now bore the signs of age with deep-creased smile lines and crow’s feet. Her sapphire eyes remained sharp and clear and full of love; her laughter was melodious, occasionally requiring the use of her whole body. Oddly her graying hair, waist-length hair was being worn loose in waves down her back; it was usually braided and kept pinned to her head. She had a woman’s curves and a posture that suggested she knew how to use them.

She walked over to her husband of twenty one years and gently placed a wrinkling hand on his cheek. “It means you’re getting too sentimental Marv.”

Marv looked flabberghasted and Faolain clapped a hand over her open mouth--partly to stifle laughter and partly to exclaim, “Mama!”

Trista continued on as if she had said nothing out of the ordinary. She was nothing if not practical. “They’re grown adults, dear. Eventually they’re going to have to start living their lives away from us and starting families of their own.”

At first Marv’s face had tightened with strain with each word Trista said, and it appeared as if he would be angry. He ended up taking a deep breath and heaving a long sigh at the end, running his hand through his hair. “I know, Trista; it’s jest so hard when you kin still remember them as babies always needin’ ya.”

His wife smiled warmly and wrapped her husband in a tight embrace. “It will be okay you big softy. We raised them well.”

Faolain grinned broadly. “Don’t you worry, Daddy. So long as I’m with Red I’ll be A-okay!” She suddenly looked thoughtful, tapping a long, graceful finger to her chin. “That reminds me… I have something I want to tell you at supper.”


As Faolain’s family gathered around their quaint farm table, Faolain’s eyes bulged at the feast-like spread her mother had laid out. “Mom, where did all this food come from? You would think I haven’t eaten in a month.”

Food started to be passed around the table--a juicy roast with just the right spice blend rubbed on it; potatoes, only partially mashed and oozing with butter and gravy; a medley of bright, wonderful home-grown vegetables that had been steamed to perfection; bread fresh-baked that day leaked its enticing aroma as someone cracked into a roll; an assortment of berries fresh from the market and bursting with juice. Truly her mother had gone all out yet Trista simply shrugged and replied, “Well, I don’t know when you’ll be getting another quality meal; I had to make this one count.”

Faolain paused with the bowl of potatoes halfway passed to Tommy. She gave her mother a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised. Before she could say anything, Tommy retrieved the bowl of spuds from her and Marv, trying to keep his composure, said, “What do you mean by that, Trista?”

Trista’s answer was simply to look at her daughter, that knowing smile quirking the corners of her mouth. “Our daughter did say she had something to tell us tonight.”

Pausing with a forkful of meat to her mouth, Faolain looked caught off guard. She put her fork down, scratched her head, and mused, “Uh, yeah, I suppose I did.” A more serious demeanor overcame her as she sat up straight, steepling her hands neatly over her plate of food. “Right… So as you guys know I’ve been doing pretty well for myself in the solo combat ranks--”

“But?” Marv interjected, looking tense.

Faolain gave him a sidelong glance as she continued. “But I want to start really challenging myself. I feel like I’m falling in a comfort zone and that solo combat is getting too easy, too predictable. I wish to see if there are teams that might be recruiting or if I can form my own team.”

Her father looked extremely strained and he was barely eating any of his food, looking intensely at his plate as if he could burn a hole through it. Tommy ate slow, looking back and forth between his parents and sister, admiration lighting up his eyes when his gaze fell on Faolain. Trista looked surprisingly upbeat, a broad smile splitting her face in two. “Well good for you dear!”

Marv jumped in his seat as if he had been hit, while Faolain’s jaw dropped. “I fail to see how that’s good,” he muttered like a petulant child, pushing food listlessly around his plate.

Trista rolled her eyes, turning her attention to their daughter. “He’ll come around, sweetie. Look, these machines are something you’re passionate about and you are a good pilot. I am sure that with the proper training, time, and research that you will excel at team combat as you have in singles. Just make sure to check in with us from time to time as you can.”

Faolain finally figure out how to close her mouth, a tear forming in her eye at her mother’s kind reassurance. Before she could say anything, again, Tommy piped up, “Oh, can I join you, Faolain? I may not be much of a pilot, but I could help maintain Red for you, scavenge parts, and expand my business.”

Their mother nodded, closing her eyes as she mulled this prospect over; Marv looked sullen, having closed himself off. Trista reopened her eyes with a warm, caring smile that only mothers could seem to wear and make the whole world seem better. “That settles it then. I look forward to hearing about your adventures, you two.”

_________________

Follow me on Tumblr! @projectashley
Like Crochet? You can see what I make @ facebook.com/AshedCreations

Lord Godfrey wrote:
Some people only want to watch the world burn. Others want to be the ones responsible for burning it...



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