(Un)official Multiplayer artwork thread!! | Forums

[obliviondoll]

Because we need one.

I'll be adding LaChatNoir's post-its (she's my awesome girlfriend, for those who don't know) as we get them, anyone else can feel free to provide more entertaining or awesome works of art here - pictures, cosplays, etc. for the MULTIPLAYER.

Kind of a counterpoint to the single-player focused art thread in General Discussion.

So, to start us off, the first few post-its we've managed to get photographed. More to come.

Doctor:



Harlequin (LaChatNoir's favourite of her post-its so far)



Prowler



Smuggler (LaChatNoir's favourite persona)

[Daidarapochi]

Smuggler (LaChatNoir's favourite persona)

Your girlfriend is a spy.

[Lethalla]

(Apologies to those who've already seen this on the OT clan site...)

Taken

He came to as he landed upright on cobbled stones. Where am I? This place didn’t look real. Cast shadows looked real enough for the sun’s angle, but... something was out of place. But what? Was it the shimmer of blue mesh at all points of the compass? Was it the lack of warmth from the overhead sun, or the curious absence of smell? Or the crowd’s silence, so that the only voices were the merchants’? Was it... wait, how was it that there were so many people who looked and dressed alike? They were all copies of one another. Odd.

Hazy memories surfaced, of another life, of strangers’ faces, of blinding white light, and of things he had no words to describe. He pushed them away. Here, in the now, was all that mattered.

Why am I a man? Another question, unanswered. He looked down at his clothing, then saw nearby what he presumed was a copy of himself. Long black coat, lined in blood red, with white embroidery at the hem and front. Dark hair; a black hat, perched jauntily to one side. White shirt, and beneath that, an upright collared black tunic threaded with gold. And even odder, a weapon at his belt: a short sword blade on a long handle.

A woman in a green hooded cloak walked by. A small group followed her, all identical and bearing the same sardonic smile. He watched as they wove a hesitant course around shabby market tents and disappeared from view.

Out of curiosity, he walked after her. Rounded the corner to see a cloud of smoke, and all the women coughing but one – who stood upright, in the centre, as if nothing had happened. He watched, horrified, as a cruel-faced priest in vestments – one of a dozen or so scattered in the vicinity – walked up to her, forced her to kneel as if at prayers, and stabbed her casually in the back of the neck. She fell... and disappeared, glowing as she faded.

No one else appeared to have noticed.

What manner of place was this? He took a good look around, and saw something that looked vaguely familiar... white columns, supporting a portico that bore an inscription... something about Agrippa.

Rome? This was Rome, undoubtedly. But what year? What was going on; why was he there?

He walked on, observing another murder, and a frantic chase betewen silvery doors that shut behind the hunted, then opened themselves again a moment later to let the hunter through. A jester... no, a Harlequin ran to a platform and shot up to the rooftops. Another cloud of smoke, a cry, and a sickening thrust of knives.

A voice like a wind rose above the din of merchants crying their wares. Searching... searching...

Searching for what? Or whom? Nervous, he stepped under the awning of a stall, to nod and gesture along with his clone and a red- bearded man in a striped apron, as the voice grew louder.

A woman dressed in brown and black with tattered lace sleeves walked straight up behind him and, as he felt a sharp pain at the juncture of shoulder and neck, he turned out of instinct and punched her in the face. What? Why did I do that? He ran, wondering why it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Clawed at his throat as his sight turned green, and he fell to the cobbles that he knew should have been cold as death.

Such a waste, he thought, as consciousness faded. A life unlived.

He came to, again, landing on his feet near where he’d died.

No, not again...

[Kaiyoto]

I love the art work but yikes, crop the pictures man!

[Dave0718]

I liked that story the first time i saw it, and seeing it again made me like it even more.

do you have any other short stories to share,if you want?

[Blind2Society]

Lethalla, I honestly don't have the words to explain how much I enjoyed reading that.

I would like to urge all of you who looked at the wall of text and thought, I'm not reading that, to indeed read it. I wasn't going to and I'm so glad I changed my mind.

[Assassinsyk]

Damn, Lethalla. VERY well written, but also great plot (concept?).

Thank you, and feel free to keep em coming.

Edit: I hope I´m not the guy telling Picasso what colors to use, but I´d love a sequel too, simply because I want more.

[goonie08]

Wow, Lethalla. I got chills!

And I still love those post-its, oblivion!

[obliviondoll]

Awesome that your story made it here, Lethalla.

And @Kaiyoto, it's enough that I'm managing to scale the pics down to a manageable size. I'm working on a Mac I barely know how to use with this, so I'm doing things in pretty much the most basic way possible. Will see if my girlfriend wants to do a better job than me.

[IIwangcarsII]

I'm debating on whether to post a picture that I drew of the thief. But it isn't very good.