Only In Dreams (Part 2 !!!)

So yeah, where was I? Oh yeah. So I was now being pursued by
a newly awakened ancient evil entity, who was essentially sentient
sand. I was ducking down hallways, running full tilt, trying to
shake my supernatural pursuer. It's pretty hard to run away from a guy
whose made of sand though, especially when said pursuer is
seemingly ubiquitous, and part of the very fabric of the castle/hotel
itslef. I would be running down a hallway, and a giant sand hand would
reach out of the wall and try and grab me. Or I'd reach a stairwell,
only to have it blocked off by a wall of living sand. Finally, I
was running, and a giant tidal wave of sand was following after me,
gaining on me. I ended up getting swept up in the wave of sand, which
formed into a hand around me, and was starting to tighten it's grip.
It was crushing me, and I started to lose consciousness.
The background started to fade and swirl. I closed my eyes.

I couldn't breathe. Just when I was ready to give up the ghost,
I heard a voice in my head. It was telling me that I was the incarnation
of an ancient being of living water/ice, the eternal nemesis of the sand
creature. Apparently we had fought for millennia, but had been dormant for hundreds of years after our last battle had finished at a stalemate. We had both been drained, and had needed to rest to recuperate our respective strengths. Or so I imagine, I don't actually remember much of this part of the dream, only that I changed somehow into this Ice/water being. I'm filling the rest of the blanks for story sake. Cut me some slack will ya? Call it literary license.

Anyway, I changed into this huge entity made of living ice/water, and we started fighting. We we're no longer in the hotel, but rather in some sort of transdimensional swirling nebulous vortex outside of time and space, which I imagine is where beings made of living ice/water or sand go to settle their differences. So anyway, we're in this ethereal plane duking it out. I'd throw hailstorms and blizzards at him, shoot out jetstreams of water, hurl huge icicles, ect. He'd send sandstorms my way, hurl large clumps of earth, pummel me with rock hard fists of sand. We seemed pretty evenly matched, neither one of us overpowering the other, only managing glancing blows, defending against the brunt of each others salvos.

And then just when it seemed the battle would end in another
inevitable stalemate, that's when...I woke up.

What? I told you, it's a dream.
They're not necessarily geared towards resolution.
They are in fact, often anticlimactic.
What? You want me to make up an ending?
Man, you people are demanding. Fine.

Where was I? Oh yeah. So just when it seemed like the battle would rage on for another millennia, neither side a clear victor, I hit upon a plan. I filled the air around us with mist. "You think mere steam will stop me!? Enough of your ploys! Have at you!" My opponent bellowed. We renewed fighting, once again trading blows, neither one of us besting the other. But, as the battle raged on, slowly my enemy became more sluggish, his movements more telegraphed. Finally, I managed a crushing blow, smashing my adversary with a glacier sized chunk of ice I wielded as a club. Defeated, he lay before me, his fury abated.

"How did you do it?" He demanded, "Whenever we fought before,
our battles always ended in a bitter standstill!
How have you bested me now?"

"Simple." I replied. "As we fought, I filled the air with moisture.
You didn't notice the effect at first, but as time went on, the sand
that comprises your body began to clump and become clay and mud.
After a prolonged battle, your body was constricted and therefore
I was able to easily outmatch you."

"I shall have my revenge! I will feast on your heart and rip your soul asunder!"

"Yes, yes." And with that I that I scattered his body to the great desserts of the earth. And there he resides to this day. Being rather a poor sport, he still causes the occasional sandstorm from time to time, but mostly he occupies himself designing sand dunes, and making cactus floral arrangements.

With balance once again restored, I set my sights on the worlds famine
stricken lands, sending rain and water to areas in dire need, ensuring
crops for those who had once had none. But I left the desert lands alone
(with the exception of the inhabited cities) out of respect for my fallen foe.

Or, if that ending is to sappy for you, being the fatalist that you are, try this one:


So just when it seemed like the battle would rage on for another millennia, neither side a clear victor, I started to feel weak. The longer he fought, the weaker I began to feel, despite managing to block the brunt of my attackers blows, and fending off or dodging the majority of his onslaught.

"Feeling tired?" He mocked, "Or are you merely standing in awe of my glory?" He laughed contemptuously. We renewed fighting, but I found it harder and harder to evade or defend against his attacks. Then, when I could defend no more, I began to receive blow after punishing blow. I was finally felled by a two fisted uppercut of sand. My opponent stood over me gloating. "At last, after so many battles, I have finally defeated you, my hated foe!", he bellowed. "No doubt, you are wondering why you felt so drained?" He grinned fiendishly, "Sand absorbs moisture like a sponge! The clouds of sand I generated as we fought have been steadily draining you of the water from which you draw your power!"

He reached down and grabbed me by the throat. He drove his hand deep
into my chest, pulling out my ice heart, glittering like a diamond.
Then he crushed it in his massive hand, and drank the water that
poured out. Then he ripped me into tiny pieces, like little snow crystals.

"And now away with you, accursed blight!" Then he threw the crystals
into the world's great seas, where they drifted in the currents,
some reaching the ice floes and glaciers. My only companions became
the flocks of penguins and the stalking polar bears.

Then, unopposed, the great sand creature ravaged the earth, turning all the land into vast inhospitable deserts . But he left the sea and ice untouched, perhaps out of respect for his fallen foe, but more likely out of fear that he might reawaken him.

How's that? You don't like it you can bloody well write your own ending.

Luther

Hello. This is a character i designed, completely from
imagination, sans refference. His name,
(for lack of being able to think of a better one,
I'm open to suggestions.) is Luther.This dude is
supposed to be a rasta warrior, he has these huge
fist-glove things he uses as a weapon.
They weigh 100 pounds each, but they amplify
his strenghth 20 times over. He comes from
a cyberpunk future, where the internet has become
a means of transferring ones conciousness into
virtual reality, and hackers are the pirates,
warriors and knights of the new information age,
constantly fighting back against corporate rule
by the mega-military-industrial-conglomerates that
have long since usurped government. He is both a
top level hacker, a brilliant inventor/mechanic,
a competent pilot, and if necessary, a fierce warrior,
although he is an avowed pacifist, and tries to avoid
conflict whenever he can, which, unfortunately, proves
almost impossible in the times he lives in. Despite this,
he constantly tries to spare human life, seeing it as
precious. He is also a family man, and will forget
any thoughts of non-violence should the lives of his loved
ones be threatened, protecting them with the ferocity of
a grizzly. He is chief mechanic and pilot of the merchant
vessel/commune the Iron Lion. His friends know him as
a gentle giant and a poet, soft spoken and wise. His enemies
know him as and unstoppable force and a proud warrior.


heh. That all comes of kinda cornball huh? oh well.
I just made it up on the fly. I might turn it into a story,
and eventually a graphic novel. Who knows. Anyway here's the pic,
bear in mind this is the rough sketch, it needs to be painted
and he has no eyes at the moment, mainly because they weren't
turning out how I liked. I'll prolly cheat and do a shining eye
effect. It'll make him look tougher anyways. I'm not
terribly happy with the way the face turned out overall,
I'll probably redo it. The head's okey, but the eyes,
nose mouth seem off. I was trying to make him not look like
a white guy with brown skin, which is how most white artists
used to end up drawing anyone who wasn't white, unless of
course they were doing horrible racist caricatures. I was
going for authenticity, and trying to avoid both of the
aforementioned scenarios, but bear in mind that I was drawing
sans refference. The face is the part of the drawing in the least
happy with.

This is prolly my first real attempt at doing a painting of
somebody with darker skin tone, hopefully I don't mess it up.

I"m sure you guys will let me no if I do. ;)