Art Whores
Don't you just hate it when someone posts a complaint, and then some tit-sucker can't think of any response of any kind--they're too lazy or inept to even come up with a troll comment--so instead they just dump a bunch of thumbnails of their artwork into the thread?
I mean, what's the POINT? How do a half-dozen photos of your Dr. Who plushies make any kind of an argument? How is your seizure-inducing drug-trip art supposed to make any kind of a point? Do you really expect to get visits to your gallery from art-whoring?
The WORST kind is porn. I won't go into detail about all the disturbing stuff I've seen here. I've seen everything from girls getting pleasured by giant worms, to gay Star Trek slash, to Jesus fucking himself.
It's creepy man.
Stop responding to every thread with a bunch of irrelevant thumbnails of artwork.
I mean, what's the POINT? How do a half-dozen photos of your Dr. Who plushies make any kind of an argument? How is your seizure-inducing drug-trip art supposed to make any kind of a point? Do you really expect to get visits to your gallery from art-whoring?
The WORST kind is porn. I won't go into detail about all the disturbing stuff I've seen here. I've seen everything from girls getting pleasured by giant worms, to gay Star Trek slash, to Jesus fucking himself.
It's creepy man.
Stop responding to every thread with a bunch of irrelevant thumbnails of artwork.Comments372
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Reverse psychology is quite a wonder. 
Aye it is.
If you're asking for it....
Dude, that stuff rocks! I particularly like the Arab woman with the blue burka; reminds me of that famous National Geographic cover.
Thanks alot 
Oh yeah, that was a nice cover, i remember it
i cannot find it anywhere
Oh yeah, that was a nice cover, i remember it
i cannot find it anywhere 
uhh...i don't have a witty comment so...ah fuck, when in rome, do what the romans do 
i'm especially proud of the last one, although i don't have much stuff on this account because i just moved a few weeks ago.
i'm especially proud of the last one, although i don't have much stuff on this account because i just moved a few weeks ago.
XD these comments!
Especially from the ones who don't know me. 
Holy Thor's nutsack you rock!
awwwwwwww 
Well, when in doubt, artwhore! 
This thread appears to have severely backfired for you. Luckily I'm too lazy to post a bunch of art right now.
That's what you think...
No, I know I'm lazy.
*looks at thread* oh alice...what have you done?
Alice?
Which Alice are you talking to?
Which Alice are you talking to?
American Mcgee's the one from Alice Madness Returns actually
Damn, I knew I was forgetting one!
Whenever someone complains about something like this everyone does the thing the person complained about.
mumble mumble mumble something witty.
These are the Voyages We Don't Talk About“Is there anything you can do, Bones?” Even in the tinted reflection of his communicator antenna, Kirk could plainly see his vivid green eyebrows. The ship’s commanding officers strolled from the alien castle towards their shuttle, about an hour’s walk away. McCoy should have been more elated that the captain had managed to negotiate their release, but they all seem preoccupied by the cost of their freedom. The sooner they got Briffia behind them, the better.
“Not til we get back to the ship,” the doctor answered. His southern drawl was stronger; an obvious tell that he was suppressing a laugh.
The captain glared. “I don’t want you saying one word of this to the crew, you hear me? Not. one. word.”
“Captain,” Spock piped up. “I think they will all notice the change in color. It is quite vivid.”
“But they don’t need to know how they got that color!”
McCoy tried to lighten the mood.
Life is for the LivingAt 89, Mrs. McGillicutty was an inspiration to everyone at Mercer’s Grocery. She walked a block with merely a cane to the store, did her shopping, and walked home, all on her own. Her eyes sparkled with the sharp wit of someone half her age, her voice never wavered, and her spirit could uplift even the most depressed soul. And at only five feet tall, wearing glasses just as thick, everyone agreed she was cute as a button (though not to her face, the woman had dignity). The unofficial Mercer’s motto was “I hope I’m as fortunate as Mrs. McGillicutty when I reach her age.”
But this day was different. Mrs. McGillicutty shambled through the aisles. She sighed often and wrung her hands more than once. Everyone was allowed to have an off day once in a while, but this was unprecedented. It through the entire store off-balance. It wasn’t until check-out that Bill worked up the nerve to ask her if something was bothering her.
She gazed up at him through
Mrs. DavidFenton David stepped through the door and heard Roxanne weeping. Their home was a modest affair with a living room, kitchen, and two bedrooms (the smaller of which was currently being used as his studio). There was no such thing as privacy, but for newlyweds in their third week of marriage, it was paradise. It was disconcerting, then, to hear his bride lamenting so loudly in their paradise. Fenton had that stomach-lurching sensation of knowing this could only be very bad news.
“Honey?” he sat down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She did not shy away. “What’s wrong?”
Roxanne looked up at him with a red, swollen face. How long had she been crying? Her whole body trembled. “I haven’t been totally honest with you about who I am.”
“Okaaaaaay,” Fenton bit his lip. Being a comic book artist, he had an active imagination. Though ridiculous, his mind automatically jumped to possibilities of her being an alien or in witnes
Morning RitualIt was a known fact of life that Arnold could not function without his morning coffee. Thankfully, he had married a woman who made an amazing brew. Jessica was amazing, and Arnold knew that a shlub like him didn’t deserve an angel like her. He made sure she felt duly appreciated, too—after her coffee elevated him above his zombie state.
The weekend had come and gone, and once again Monday was making its forceful presence known. Not that he had to go in to work today… instead, he would have to attend his mother’s funeral. Not that he was grieving. In fact, it was going to be all he could do not to dance on the woman’s grave once the last scoopful of Earth was atop her. Six feet was not enough. She had always tried to control his life. And she had downright hated Jessica. Perversely, as horrible as she had been, she had also always insisted she was a good mother even to her last breath. No one in the family missed her.
Arnold navigated his house my memory, n
Icarus Borne on Wings of SteelIn the fairies’ fortress within a mighty oak, Illaya, warrior princess, wept over the body of her sister, still wearing the artificial steel wings they had thought would be their salvation.
At the gnomes’ encampment, half-buried into the earth, Commander Scor celebrated another victory. They had become proficient at shooting fairies from the sky. Even their metal flying machines were no match for their catapults!
“Commander?” Ithian fluttered his wings in apology. Illaya almost cursed, but he was her trusted lieutenant—he would only interrupt if it was urgent. “There’s a… monster at the roots.”
Illaya flew to a trunk and looked down. The monster’s bark echoed throughout the branches, and her people to draw back. But Illaya recognized the beast. It could be useful! She just needed more…
Commander Scor knew victory was nigh, and this human country, Suburbia, would be theirs for the taking. Certainly, the humans would put u
Flow and EbbBefore I knew I was a fish, I knew my journey began with trees.
And pebbles. Endless pebbles that seemed half-algae below me. I darted over them all. Mountains in the distance alternated colors of white and grey. With fish eyes, I saw them above the ripples of water and knew the name: Never Summer Mountains. The river? The Colorado.
And me, a rainbow trout, a once and future human, rushing to a dying grandmother the fastest way I could.
I twisted down valley and canyon, water getting faster, until my path opened into a lake. Did I feel free, or did I feel agoraphobic? That, I didn’t know, but I knew the name of the lake: Shadow Mountain. The waters pulled me lower, into another canyon. Byers. Here the water mixed with another stream; it tasted strange now in my mouth. Meltwater from a nearby winter fell in too. Clean. The pebbles below became rocks, diverting my river into rapids and spray. Here, in the Gore Canyon, I felt fear. Swimming here was like piloting a plane in a storm.
AblazeAnd so the world ended, not with a whimper, but a bang. Fire rained from the heavens. Few understood the cause of the phenomenon; it didn’t matter anyway. The cause eclipsed the effect. He knew they had only a few minutes left. Why waste those precious few minutes raging against the oncoming fate?
He took her by the hand. He did not rage, but he could mourn. He wasn’t afraid of death… he just wished they’d had more time together.
The pelt of sparks began to burn, each little impact sizzling against his skin. “I just want to say… this year with you was the best of my life. By far.”
She smiled, and popped open her umbrella. It would buy them only another second, maybe two, but even that was enough. A second could be a lifetime with her.
They huddled under the umbrella’s shadow, and, as the world burned around them, lived that lifetime together.
The In-Laws“What were you thinking!?” Andy heard his mother scream at his father-in-law. Oh, no…
Zeus regarded Samantha with mild amusement. “I was thinking doves were so mundane. My mortal daughter is only going to have one wedding,” (Andy felt a flash of lightning come from the glance Zeus gave him. Warning received!) “and it’s going to be the wedding of the twenty-first century. This wedding will be the stuff of legend!”
Andy picked himself up off the ground and surveyed the damage to the ballroom. His bride was hacking at a wayward tentacle which had refused to follow the rest of the body back into the Pit from Whence It Came. (Thankfully, the satyrs had sewn her wedding dress out of indestructible fabric, and adorned it with golden chainmail. A run through a washing machine would clear out the slime and it would be as good as new.) Not a single table was still standing; those that had not been wrecked had been overturned by Andy’s family
DiscoveryJames found the ebony-skinned figure in the lab, as usual, and slumped down on the stool beside her. As the room automatically brightened for human eyes, his St’nan companion pulled the hood up over her head. The outpost had been designed to balance the needs of both species, but sometimes, compromises needed to be made. Generally, the outpost’s lights illuminated at Earth norm, though the St’nan preferred much darker environs. But the gravity was set to their comfort level, which was about nine-tenths of Earth’s. Most of the outpost was lined with wood-like biomatter which generated fresh oxygen, though the lab was constructed of sterile white plastics. Jim reached for the controls and manually returned them to the previous setting. He wasn’t in the mood for bright lighting.
“Things go not well between you and Isabelle?” his companion asked.
“What do you think?” he asked, and then deliberately changed the subject. “Whatcha go
Match Made in HeavenAs the ribbon of light streaked through the sky, she looked to her boyfriend lying on the grass beside her and wished he would love her more than anything for the rest of their lives and people would talk about their love long after they were gone. And he did.
He wrote her letters every day.
He sent her gifts, many and expensive golden baubles.
He went with her everywhere she went.
Soon, she could not take it anymore. He was smothering her. He grew jealous of any other man she talked to. He wouldn’t leave, even when she screamed at him.
But he loved her. He loved her more than anything else… even his own freedom. No restraining order could hold him back. They would be together… forever.
He dressed her in all the gold jewelry he’d bought her and anointed her with frankincense.
The day after Christmas, he papers ran the tragic story of the homicide-suicide. The TV stations covered it in meticulous detail. It became one of those tragedies that just seemed to catch
Need“Have you completely lost your mind?” Aiden demanded of his sister.
“Maybe,” Katarina admitted. “I have to admit, this is all very mad scientist.”
Her laboratory had not been what Aiden expected. He had pictured stone walls and cobbled-together machines of unimaginable purposes, all barely lit by a few bulbs. Instead, they stood in the center of a pristine, white room, the entire ceiling providing illumination. There was barely a hum from any of the machinery, all sleek and camouflaged in matching whiteness. The immaculate design belied it Frankensteinian purpose.
“But… if it works…”
“If it works, do you really think he would thank you? You’re so obsessed with can, but you haven’t stopped to ask should.”
His sister raised her goggles and looked him in the eye. “We need him, Aiden.”
He looked down at the corpse in the glass case. Wires of all sorts protruded from its nose,
What If...?Bolivar Trask hoped his words properly expressed the urgent need of his Sentinel program to the senators in the committee, but he could see by the slack-jawed, glassy expressions that few were taking him seriously. His voice echoed through the large room (disrupted only by the odd cough or whir of recording machinery for posterity), but the words did not seem to sink in. More content seemed to be going into a corpulent senator’s yawn.
“Gentlemen, please!” Trask was on the verge of getting down on his knees and begging. “If we don’t act soon, these mutants will overtake the human race!”
One senator, who had been quiet up til now, finally spoke. “So what?”
Trask was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“These… mutants are our children. Our brothers, our sisters. It doesn’t sound to me like we’re being conquered… we are becoming.”
There was a murmur throughout the crowd. “But what abo
Darla the Dragon Tries to DecieveDarla the Dragon was lonely.
Dragons do not get along with each other. They all like treasure so much, that they can’t trust other dragons around their piles and piles of gold. So Darla didn’t have any dragon friends.
Humans are scared of dragons. A long time ago, a dragon did bad things like steal sheep and eat some village girls, and it made humans think all dragons were bad. That’s called stereotyping. So Darla didn’t have any human friends.
Dwarfs never came out of their tunnels, and they smell like mold. So Darla didn’t have any dwarf friends.
So Darla decided to post an ad on Craigslist.
“I want a Friend,” she titled it. And in the post she wrote:
“I am a princess. I want a friend who will like my collection of gold and jewels, but not steal them. Must not be afraid of dragons. Must not be smelly.”
But Darla wasn’t a princess. She had more gold and jewels than a princess, but she was still a dragon.
The next day, Darla g
The HelpLike ants, the clones paraded in a circle between the car and the kitchen, hauling the bags of groceries inside.
“Really, honey?” Gordon Gregory asked.
“Why not?” Dr. Sharon Gregory said with a shrug. “I had some leftover bio-matter and overbooked myself this morning.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to ask for some… help?” Gregory sidestepped as one of the clones nearly staggered into him, barely able to see over the bulk pack of toilet paper Michelle had purchased.
“And ruin your vacation? You work hard, honey. I can’t imagine what it’s even like battling supervillains all day. You deserve a break.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek.
“I just… I don’t know. Doesn’t this violate some ethical rules or something?”
“Jury’s still out on that.”
“And I’m just not comfortable with these things running around the house with our kids.
The GroanerThe two clowns peered around the corner, at the boarded-up carriage. Faded, flaking paint revealed dry timber in the cart’s construction, but the iron framework looked secure enough. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to put any maintenance into the transport for the circus’s secret shame. For once, it was not rocking. Whatever lay inside was either eating, or asleep.
“So what do you think is in there?” Franco the Funny asked.
“Dunno,” said Blondzo. “But considering they have to get Strongman Sam to feed it, probably nothing I want to get too close to.”
“Come on, where’s your sense of adventure?” Franco asked.
“What makes you think I have one?”
“You ran away to join the circus.”
Franco had him there.
“Legend has it that it used to be our bearded lady. One day, she accidentally sat on the fortune teller, and the gypsy used her last breath to put a curse on her.”
Blondzo roll
The DungeonFrom the palette of blades, Laura selected a switchknife—simple, elegant, and not large enough to cause serious damage with a full stabbing. No, it caused death by a thousand cuts, and she wanted her boyfriend to last as long as possible.
“Well, well, well,” she said, ambling closer to where she had chained her boyfriend to the wall. “You’ve really gone and done it this time, Jake. First the goldfish, then that thing you said to my aunt, and now the car.”
She got up close and looked him right in the eye, sliding the flat side of the blade across his cheek. “Three strikes and you’re out, lover.”
The knife descended and slid into his leg like butter. She grinned sadistically and twisted it. His pained grunt instantly relaxed her. A few stabs later, and she was completely at ease.
“Laura?” Jake asked from the top of the stairs.
She sighed and turned around. “What?”
“I just got off the phone with the insura
And I Feel FineAs usual, Reggie didn’t bother to knock before bursting into my apartment. This time, however, he flung the door open with so much urgency that I spilled my soda. The strawberry drink splattered all over my counter and shirt. Fortunately, I was very good about getting stains out.
“It’s the end of the world!” he screamed.
I rolled my eyes. Reginald (five days, four hours, two minutes) always had a tendency to panic at the slightest things. The time he had gone to tears after locking himself out of his car sprang to mind. Nevertheless, he was a good guy, and hanging out with him was well worth the occasional histrionics. “All right, who’d you knock up?” I asked. Never let it be said that I didn’t have a sense of humor, albeit a dark one.
“No, man, I mean it. Haven’t you seen the news?” He pushed past me and grabbed the remote.
I looked him square in the eyes. This was not some minor crisis. Something was really going down.
Demons and MonstersA pinch penetrated the haze. As she floated upwards towards the surface of consciousness, she felt strong, scaly arms wrap around her. Even if she had the strength to struggle again, she would be unable to. The demon kept her pinned.
It carried her down the corridor, passing pens which held other captives. Many whimpered pitifully. Had they all been taken against their will, too? She shuddered at the thought. In her village, she was a proud huntress, and mother to a god’s child. Here, she was nothing… she was fodder to be sold to some lewd monster. For the first time in her life, she felt small. She just wanted to return to the fire-pits and huts of her people.
With its second set of hands, the demon pushed the doors open, bringing them out into the glaring light. She shut her eyes, the drugs in her system still making her slugging, slowing even her eyes’ ability to adjust to the light. She had been in this room once before, a gold-gilded palace inhabited by two decad
The Customer Service StinksMaking it in the big city was turning out to be a lot more difficult than he expected. Billy Bob knew that it was risky, challenging a supervillain, but he was desperate. He had managed to evade the mansion’s defenses, including the sawblades, killer robot, and genetically engineered land-piranhas. He had a large slash in his wifebeater for his troubles, and he had broken out into a nasty sweat, but he felt proud of himself. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and cocked his shotgun before ringing the bell.
And he waited.
After a couple minutes, he was about to kick the door in, when opened and revealed a lederhosen-clad hunchback with tentacles for arms. “May I help you?”
Billy Bob directed his shotgun at the appropriate angle. “I’ve come to see General Pain.”
“Ah, yes, of course. May I offer you a drink while you wait?”
“Do I look stupid?” he sneered. Never trust a drink given to you by a supervillain (or their minion). O
Strive to Survive“No, no!” snarled the werewolf of gold and silver. A blur of motion, he wrapped his claws around the female’s wrists and yanked them lower. “Don’t be so concerned with guarding your face, Austin. Keep your defenses over your heart. If you’re so concerned with keeping pretty, you shouldn’t be joining the Order in the first place.”
Like curtains being drawn, the female’s black muzzle revealed a flash of teeth, but she complied with the instructions. Few were brazen enough to accuse Reilly Austin of vanity, though the man in front of her could beat her half to death and she would probably end up thanking him. Robert “Hatchet” Hackett was a legend amongst the soldiers of the Order. Hell, he had set the standard for the Order post-World War Two. She had been hunting for the Order for a year, now, and a near-disaster taking on a band of vampires, she realized she still had much to learn. Thankfully, he had chosen her un
A Simple Misunderstanding“So there I was, just walking down the woods, minding my own business, when the bitch jumped out of nowhere and attacked me. It was completely unprovoked, I swear.”
OH?
“Thankfully, I just happened to have some weapons on hand. Did you know holy water doesn’t work on werewolves?”
I WOULD IMAGINE NOT. THEY’RE NOT CREATURES OF EVIL, BUT OF NATURE. AND NATURE IS NEITHER GOOD NOR EVIL.
“Yeah, well, this one was. Total murderous psycho. I mean, sure, I might’ve given her kid… puppy… whatever… a dirty look, but that’s no reason to kill somebody!”
I AM NOT CONCERNED WITH REASONS. ONLY THE RESULTS.
“I guess you would be, huh? Lemme guess, you’re neither good nor evil either?”
BINGO.
“You know, you’re not what I expected.”
PEOPLE VERY RARELY EXPECT DEATH.
“Heh, true. Hey, just out of idle curiosity, are violent deaths trickier than some old geezer on his deathbed? I mean, we w
Colony LifeEd had tried everything to get the fleas off Fido. Poisons, shaving, the works. But still they came back, and each time, they seemed to be dug in deeper. The dog didn’t seem to be suffering, but no one wanted to be around him or Ed. But contamination was always a concern in an offworld colony. Everyone was rigorously screened for just about everything before being allowed onto the rockets. But to be human is to err; every now and then, something slipped through. Still, why’d it have to happen to him (or rather, his dog)?
Ed had never had to deal with fleas before, but he knew it shouldn’t have been this hard. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Ed was just about to head to the labs to procure some nanobots which would be programmed to hunt down and exterminate every last flee on Fido’s body. But he was developing a sneaking suspicion—perhaps it was his paranoia, but he half expected the fleas at this point to somehow reprogram the nanobots and t
LoveGeneral Pain considered the merits of a bionic gas mask as he swept the fire extinguisher over his bed. But first, he would need to get a new bed. He could not properly cogitate evil science without at least eight hours of sleep each night.
Behind him cowered a hunchbacked figure with tentacles for arms. “Master,” he whimpered. “The experiment is unstable!”
“I realize that, Adolf,” General Pain snapped.
“Even its feces are explosive. One of my clones was killed by the shrapnel of the litterbox!”
They both looked down at the small, furry creature that had ignited the bed. It was now perched on top of a dresser, purring and licking its paw.
“But it’s just so cute,” General Pain sighed. “How do you expect me to put down Heir Fuzzyboots?”
“I will do it, Master,” Adolf said, a little too eagerly. “I can modify a dungeon cell into a gassing chamber. It won’t feel a thing.”
General Pain
And Now I Must GoThe conversation with his best friend lay heavily on his hearts. The Doctor had asked Frobisher to come back with him, but the PI was currently beak-deep in a rather perverse Hydralian murder case where the main two suspects were the victim’s other two heads. His presence would have made what was to come so much easier.
He pushed both doors of the TARDIS aside. Mel was nowhere to be seen, thankfully; most likely in the kitchen, processing more carrot juice. He had always believed that infernal concoction would be the death of him. If only that would be the case.
The wardrobe room was not far, a mere two hallways and three left turns from the control room. The Doctor loosened his necktie and stuffed it into his pocket. He felt like it had been choking him as of late.
“So now that you know what’s gonna happen, you can change it, right?”
“You forget, Frobisher, I’m his past. Even though I know what’s coming, so did he. And he still
The CheatReilly kept William Huffman’s photo taped to the dashboard of her car. It kept her focused. There was no time to relax when in pursuit of a murderer. Being an agent of the Order was not a job, it was a lifestyle.
The photo displayed a shaved-bald man with pale skin and a snake’s smile. He was good-looking enough, she supposed, but every time she looked at the picture, she had to resist the urge to sprout claws and shred it. She felt that way about every member of the Silver Cross, though he was not a very devout member. The cult did not approve of sleeping with were-folk; only killing them. This bastard liked to do both.
Reilly parked across the street from a greasy motel and pulled out her binoculars. Behind the front desk stood a barn house of a woman. That required a change in tactics.
Reilly re-fastened the two top buttons of her blouse and pulled a few items from the glove compartment. She shoved a golden band onto her ring finger—a trick one