Happy Easter

Happy Easter, everyone!

So this is a quick sketch of two characters from one of my long works in progress, Ayteaelle. The one in purple is Aeacus and the orangey brown is Alke. I'll post more about them as I get more drawings of them, publish ready.

Demon's Story - World Building

          Demon's are evil greedy creatures that are perpetuated by the sins of humans. No one knows the origin of the first demon, time has swept away all trace and story until they just became a fact of life. It was accepted that demons lived among humans. They were considered to be the source of evil and their presence alone instigated more crime, pain, hate, war, death, etc. The humans banded together against them and survived dark times until heroes began to emerge and hunt down the demons. The demons to save themselves went into hiding until their histories turned into myths and myths turned into fairy tales and fairy tales were used to warn and teach children against evil in general. But the demons persisted in the shadows. They lay dormant, coming to light only when necessary or when tempted by great evils of the humans. But they still remain low enough to stay out of the public's eye, collectively working to amass enough power to finally emerge and take over the humans without fear of any hero that may try to rise up. But while the general public may dismiss demons as fairy tales and deny their existence, there are still some who wear the mantle of the heroes of old and fight against the darkness in the shadows.

Story Prompt

          So I got a story idea submitted by Les. I can't work on it right now because I have work and like 4 other works in progress that need to finished first. But I want to get this prompt out there. If you have anything to add or want to work on it, please comment and let me know. I wish to make this a garden of stories.

          "So a good person is killed, I'd make them middle aged so they have some life experience on them. Their heart gets transplanted. They don't communicate with the recipient but they are aware and assert some influence on decisions of the heart. Second person dies (in an interesting way as to be unidentifiable) they meet but wow the heart gets retransplanted into a third recipient. And the story goes on. Its the energizer bunny of hearts till finally there is a bad recipient. Which will have the greater influence the collective good or the immediate bad? Could the bad win but the collective just stops the heart or does the heart just give out from the conflict? Could go science fiction with long enough lifespans. Or does the good prevail?"

          This would be such an interesting story and a challenge to figure out how to portray the different voices and how does a heart talk. Ooooh this would be fun to sink my teeth into.

Not a Hero's Story - Naming Characters

So I have an original story all laid out with plot, twists, characters, something of a land map, most everything. But the biggest thing that I am missing which is keeping me from actually writing it are the names. I don't have anything named. Not the land, the cities, the characters. Nothing. All I have for them are titles. So I am going to post the characters here, for now at least, to see if I can generate some names.

Farm

          You let the afternoon heat seep into your bones, closing your eyes as you lean back against the tree. The rough bark digs into your back but you are too weary to find a better resting place. You don't think your legs would support your weight right now. The most movement you can do is brush your hand over the few thin blades of grass that struggle to live under the shade of the tree. Their dry crispness rustles and reminds you that you need to water your orchard next.
          But that can wait.
          Instead you take the moment to listen to the bluebirds singing delightfully over their provided nests that you tucked into the hanging gourds. You watch as the neighborhood blue heron stalks the edge of the lake for its next meal. You listen to the soft breeze knock your wind chimes together where they hang by the house. You hear your dogs bark at the horses in the next field over, an invitation to play with them. You don't hear your neighbor's tractor. Maybe on a break as well.
          You sigh and relax as much as you can without twinging your muscles. The farm might be new compared to how long some other folks have had theirs in this area, but slowly you are making it your own. Slowly it is shifting from 'the farm' to 'your farm' and it's earning the title of home.

Forest

          Why haven't you ever seen this path before? This forest is your backyard. You've played between these trees for years and should personally know every fern that covers the ground in between the lofty pine trunks. But this path... you've never walked it before. It looks well worn, the underbrush and floor debris pushed back to reveal the yellowish raw dirt underneath.
          You glance over your shoulder briefly, but decide to investigate. Strange incidents like this down happen everyday. Incidents like new paths in old woods aren't supposed to happen at all. The path curves around and dips out of sight as you follow it to an unknown destination.
          You are comforted by the usual smells of the forest, the musty scent of fallen leaves and tangy pine mixing together with every breath. The soft fall light filters through the tall branches to create a dappled pattern that mutes color tones. You hear the calls of your favorite birds as they flit between the trees and the scrabbling of squirrels as they stash their treasured nuts for the long winter coming.
          Despite the oddity of the situation, you have no sense of foreboding. Actually even that old thrill of adventure from when you were young and first exploring these woods comes back. You've always liked adventure.

Bamboo

          Your footsteps are the only thing that break the unnatural silence. They don't echo very far between the bamboo stalks that reach up into the sky, looking for that pale light. You know the path by heart, the twists and turns through the forest that would otherwise confuse and swallow up an unfamiliar traveler. The light green that stains the living walls around you saturates everything else around you. Even your hands you notice  when they flit into view.
          But as well as you know this forest, your pursuers do too. Your speed is the only thing that will save you. A fork in the path comes up but you don't hesitate. You hope that will buy you a moment or two.
          Again the eerie silence hits you as you hear only the fast beating of your heart and your harsh breathing. The usual bird songs have fallen silent. No wind blow through the branches that usually give you a soft background of rustling leaves. There is only ominous silence.
          You better hurry.

Desert

          The sun is almost a physical weight down on your head and shoulders. There is no escape from its burning gaze among the dunes that stretch and roll as far as the eye can see. And farther than the trail of footprints that you are following seem to go. You sigh in relief at that. Sand was getting into places that sand shouldn't be getting into.
          You glance back over your shoulder and groan at the fact that you can't see your starting point anymore. But your target is only about three dunes ahead. Four by the time you catch up.
          You re-shoulder your pack and head forward, trudging through the sand. You slip and slide across the gentle slopes as the soft material refuses to bear your weight. You curse this desert and everything in it. You pray to anyone, anything that will listen that there isn't a sand storm brewing just over the next stretch of dunes.

Field

          Morning has just broken over the horizon, but not the treeline yet. Light stains the clouds with gold and pink that will eventually brighten to white against the lightening sky. It looks like it will be a nice day today, you think to yourself as the chilled wind presses against your face. You watch briefly as the same wind gently brushes over the top of the tall grass, creating waves that stretch across the field.
          You know that everyone else is slowly waking just out of sight. You take this moment to be alone with your thoughts. The crisp air helps your organize your list of tasks. The fleeting scent of dew helps rejuvenate your senses. The soft rustle of dry grass calms you. The sight of golden light breaking over the forest and setting the fields on metaphorical fire gives you the deep sensation of home.
          Every day you take this moment. Everyday you remind yourself why you stay home.

Jungle

          The air is cloyingly hot. The morning mist is mostly burned off but you swear you can feel the liquid in your lungs as you crouch under the wide leaves that make up the underbrush. The heavy vines hang from the trees and cross your view in a tangled mess. The few beams of sunlight that manage to avoid all of the heavy foliage highlight the incredible palette of colors.
          You wish you take a moment to take in the multitude of colors; you could probably identify at least fifteen different greens alone in the immediate five feet around you. And that isn't mentioning the variety of flowers, insects, and other small creatures which sport bright colors to attract mates or ward off enemies.
          There is movement in the brush in front of you. You grip your weapon tighter. Your muscles tense. You hold yourself perfectly still in order to keep your position hidden. Your target moves into sight, oblivious to you. Your waiting apparently paid off. It moves closer to you until it is too close to get away. It is at that it finally catches your scent but you are already moving.

Waterfall

          Your hand rests on the sun-warmed rocks that crown the cliff that you perch on the edge of. The river ceaselessly flows on and crashes down next to you. It's a constant and loud roaring crash against the dark rocks that line the lake below. The sound drowns out the thoughts that would otherwise plague you and try to disturb your contemplation of the scenery.
          The space in front of you is a vast emptiness that expands down into the bowl of the valley framed on the other side by the sister set to the mountains that you find yourself on. The distance edges are tinged blue through atmosphere as a blanket of green boughs covers the rest, cut only by the continuing of the restless river.
          The land is untouched. For now. Even over the din of foaming water and hiss of spray you can hear the jingle of the caravan that you have been scouting for as they approach. They mean to make this their new home. You only hope that they treat the land with as much respect as it deserves.
          Carefully you stand from your makeshift seat and join them.

Cave

          The warm glow from the crackling torch helps dispel the lingering darkness that came with the damp musk of the cave. The shadows that the stalagmites and stalactites cast are like gaping teeth against the curved walls that seem to lean towards you until you throw light on them and prove that they are nothing but still stone.
          The floor seems unnaturally flat. You tell yourself that its just that way from the rain that runs inside from the entrance over probably hundreds of years. The same water that helped build up the columns and spires that reach from floor to ceiling. Still something continues to nag at you.
          Your footsteps echo in the small elongated chamber, creating small reflections that sound like footsteps farther down beyond your orb of friendly light. You are sure that they are yours because you can only hear then when you walk. No one has been down here in decades since the entrance had just been uncovered with the recent rock slides.
          That doesn't stop you from calling down "Is anyone down there?" as if you are expecting an answer.

Beach

          You stand in the surf letting the soft waves push and swirl around your ankles. The sun is high in the sky, gilding the ever changing surface of the ocean with silver and gold light. The dark cliffs that encircle the cove echo the calls of the gulls who claim this as home. Only a few lazy clouds drift across the sky, promising to behave themselves through the night. 

          You look out to the horizon, feeling your eyes stretch and strain to catch the even the smallest movement at the edge of the earth. But all you can see is the blurred meeting of sky and sea. The two elements touch and become a band of light that promises distant lands if only you had some way to reach them. If only you had some means to get away from the muddy pale sands of the beach behind you and become as free as the birds that fly overhead, as free as the fish nibbling at your toes even as your feet sink into the sucking sand, a harsh reminder that you are currently stuck here.

          But still you look out and hope. You hope one day to get away from these ever changing, ever the same tides and waves that crash against you as if you aren't there. One day you'll leave here. One day.

Welcome

Alright, let's check this out... *glances around* ...Seems nice. So....

Hi!
I'm Jordan. I am an engineer by profession, an artist and writer by hobby, and a geek by genetics. I am current 24 and a year out of college. I graduated from Georgia Tech with a Bachelors of Science in Mechanical Engineering, a certificate in Personalty Psychology, and two extra years in Architecture. I love reading science fiction (Heinlein, Asimov, McCaffrey) , fantasy (Terry Brooks, Jim Butcher), and dystopias (Orwell, Huxley, Ayn Rand). I like playing video games (adventure, RPGs, certain FPS). I have varied interests that I know way too much about such as dragons and Greek/Roman mythology. I love world building and usually set stories in a new universe. I also love character design and most of my drawing revolves around that. My current obsession is a story/webcomic called Homestuck. Feel free to check it out. My political leanings are Libertarian for social issues and Conservative for fiscal issues. I love to talk to and with people so feel free to bother me about anything. (I'll figure out a way to get communication channels set up.)

So what I want out of this blog is a place to post my works. A digital collection or display of sorts. Mostly this will be original work unless I manage to create something amazing from my fan works. I'll throw art (usually of the digital kind) or writing (either shorts, world building notes, or writing prompts) on here and see what sticks. I encourage you to leave feedback on anything, good or bad or meh.

Well, that's all I got for now. Thanks for stopping by!