Quinn Red

Parilen, but i think he could look better

I think I need to redo Parilen, currently feels like the worst drawn of the Bounty cast to me

A cropped scan of a slightly torn newspaper page from the New York Journal, Sunday, October 4, 1896, featuring a very large black and white illustration of a massive, rat/kangaroo-like monster with a knobbly head, large fangs, and a raised mane of fur running along its back/spine, with a small paleontologist holding a fossil bone next to it for scale. The illustration is captioned "The Jumping Laelaps of 5,000,000 Years Ago," and the main article is titled and subtitled: "REAL AMERICAN DRAGONS AND MONSTERS, Government Fossil Experts Unearth a Collection of Mighty Aquatic Animals That Lived Five Million Years Ago." Another headline and article that is also in the corner of the image is "UGLIEST MAN IN ENGLAND, Sir Richard Temple, an Ex-M.P. Wins the Prize for Homeliness.

I originally found this last year, but I'm gonna post it every year because it's rad as hell- an 1890s illustrator apparently misunderstanding descriptions of the bipedal dinosaur Laelaps being Kangaroo-like as meaning it was completely mammalian, and making an awesome spec evo monster. #paleoart

The boy has received a parrot!...and clothes. Finally.

The Ghronkuz
translates to the hungry rock back. This giant geovore first munches on trees and slowly replaces it with rock and stone!

Good to see you hired again for something SO in your element!

Honestly had the exact same experience until recently getting the proper game as an adult.

SPORE

A vaguely human shaped black sac hangs from a ceiling as another one everts with a many limbed creature emerging. It's head is eyeless and consist mainly of a pair of arms as if in prayer.

Sketches of the Eciton with their "mouth" open, where a oil black proboscis is produced.

Dark Orchid: Eciton

"When a man pleases a god, they are rewarded with divine cocoon.
When the writhing fruit is ripe, the cocoon everts, spilling it's gestate.

The Eciton. Ants made of men. Ants made against men.
A hive to counter a hive.
Listen for their applause, and fear it."

A person in a orange environmental protection suit shines a light on a massive alien skeleton in a dark chamber.

Dark Orchid: Mausoleum

"The Company told us that there was virtually no life on this world, nothing bigger than bacteria or more living than a fossil. Just carbon-rich soil for farming and basic bio-construction material.
But what I saw down in that mountain wasn’t fossilized. It was...rotting."

"The Baptized, that's what they call themselves. When everybody else hid in the old colony tunnels, they were stuck to the surface, with all the "animals". See these people were always a bit odd, all the oil workers were. Something about the oil "sung" to them, apparently, a hum they all shared in their heads. When the Orchid's presence shrieked in challenge to the oil's song, the bastards all snapped, stripped down to the thin synthetic membranes atop their true skin, adorned their coats, and plunged into the oil. They emerged as zealots, the children of the dead god and siblings to it's child, the Polubog. They refuse to see, now they only hear, humming the FatherChild's song like the buzzing of a cicada. The Baptized claim themselves holy soldiers of the black milk, thus they must fight it's enemy, and convert those deaf to the oil's loving coo."

"Have you seen him? The wandering, writhing blubber wrapped in refuse skin, appearing as if worms playing as man? Consuming all as addition to it's mass? Yes? Then you have witnessed a blessed thing, for it is the demigod, the "Polubog" as the followers called him, of Chernogem. It is but an infant, simple instinct and naivete, born of a dead god and the eggs of humanity collected by the Silent caretakers. If you see the boney fliers roosting or swirling above, then their sweet orphan scavenges nearby. Its form appears quite careless for a demigod, doesn't it? If it were not for human infection within it's form, it may have appeared quite different, though its birth would have never been necessary if not for humanity. Someday the Polubog will have engorged itself enough to begin celestial metamorphosis, and will cleanse Cherno of humanity and the abortions of the Orchid, the daughter of it's old enemy."

"There is a tower. It stands tall and chitin, iron black, breathing with a pale maggot heart. Fingers, elongated and undulate, splay as if wings of it’s ascendency. It’s head split as a holy crest to listen and to speak as father to the Baptized. It was once a man, the first to find the oil god’s spirit and sing with it’s hum, becoming the communion. He would sacrifice his body to the oil so it could have a finger with which to touch the world, and a voice with which to sing to it. Oh, to be the cane for a blind god was honor, to be a tongue for the tongueless was blessing, but his guidance could only go so far. So the oil remembered, and placed that memory in each of the Baptized, so all disciples may share the voice and be chosen to take form as Hierophant. In this time of the Orchid’s chaos, the holy tree named as Hietrost rings it’s grand throat to boon the flock and guide those who wander. If you are lost, remember: There is a tower.”

"They have no foot steps, no breath, no sound known to the human ear. They are cloaked in wing, bone, and sinew. The head reminds me of a bird, but blind and unflesh. The body, like a cadaver picked clean and pale chitin filling the void, a pair of arms sprouting from above the waist. Their legs are supported by hooves. Less like a horse, more like a insect's small concentrated feet. One can only see this interior once they open their wings, unveil the flesh cloak. Many Chernonese call them Teko Celovek. Most simply call them The Silent. They are a remnant of pre-terraformed Chernogem, something thought myth and illusion, now a haunt. They do not seek us for prey, for vengeance, or qualms we find familiar. No, they need us for something we took away from them, something dear. These gliders of storms, figures of shadow, these Silent. They need wombs."

Dark Orchid pt 4

Some creatures from my old sci-fi horror doodle project when I was a late teen.
Might resurrect and rework it someday.

Descriptions in the alt text.

"It roams the remnants of happy places, large hands playfully interacting with forgotten playgrounds and abandoned toys. It's grounds are used and damaged, no sense of organization, just scattered play things. The Frolic loves to have fun, but it does not know a limit. It's territory is marked by corpses of those who were either caught unaware, or grew too sympathetic for it's childlike behavior. Running is verily an option. It scrambles faster than any man can sprint, limbs moving more like a spider than the monkey it resembles, and the man it once was. Distract it with colourful bauble , and you may be able to pass through. But keep watch, Hide and Seek is amongst the Frolic's favorite games."

"Tall ones, strolling through the water, carrying nets of chain and spears of girder. Their guts hang stringy, stretching with victims they have swallowed. Their face grows in front of their maw, like a hood, with coos and moans echoing from within. The horn is sensitive to something, something of their prey. Maybe sound, maybe smell, or something else, but it makes it hard to hide from them. Avoid the lake, for the Wailers are glutton for fools."

"She is blubber and lip, in a smothering of moisture. She seeks, with those innocent blue eyes and vivid clubs one might recognize as hands and feet, for something to nurture, to love unconditionally. She does not know that the violence she causes, the brutality, the violation. Those caught by her meet a horrendous demise. An embrace with layers of extending, suffocating lips engulfing their face, and thick limbs crushing bone and organ into pulpy soup. Such victims decorate her nest, not as prize but as nostalgia."

"Unfortunate. As one scampers through the colony they may come across incarnations of failure. These mangled messes of humanity were destined to be as the other victims of the Presence, but instead they were abandoned, aborted from their chrysalis as unfinished sculptures of meat. Their skin is tender as a newborn's, but darkened by broken veins. Rubbery bones twist and collapse, rib cage extended forth, protruding the flesh as one would pitch a tent. Muscle and sinew stretch and feather, much of the strands left exposed and frayed, unknitted from the limb it was meant to be. Most of the Misborn died in the first days of the Orchid's influence, but some still cling to life, moaning and sobbing of their condition. Others are envious of all, dragging themselves towards any sign of life, attempting to kill out of frustration or simply because they are too afraid to commit suicide. It is recommend to put them out of their misery, though a scrambled nervous system denies them a quick death."

Dark Orchid pt 2

Some creatures from my old sci-fi horror doodle project when I was a late teen.
Might resurrect and rework it someday.

Descriptions in the alt text.

“These sad things plant themselves all over the place, especially warm cozy places. Their moans and weeping invite pity, but such sympathy must be rejected, for they cling to whatever comforts their shivering hands can grasp. Generous victims are torn apart by the desperate horde, meaty flowers opening to reveal a tender head, ready to nuzzle the viscera. Some of these remains are stuffed into their exposed rib cage, like a teddy bear in a picnic basket.”

"Were they dogs? Were they man? I cant remember. The Seekers are Seekers now. They feel your steps and hear your breaths and see your heart waver. They look skinny, mangey hairless and putrid yellow. I want to forget that head. That wrinkled hood hiding that porcelain grub. They see with that, feel around the corners, taste the puddles and prints. Its best to stay out of their territory, you cant hide from them easy. Can't out run the lithe things. Chop off the grub, pummel the body. Best you can do if the chance is given."

"Anger, frustration, all twisted and molded into a human knot. Muscle and sinew warp, bloat and strangle each other under elephantine skin. A head crooked and split into a pair of mandibles, arms conjoined and melted into a claw, legs reduced to tree stumps. This is the Galled. It will crush, it will pummel, it will stomp and grind all it sees, all it feels and smells. It's own body is bruised, callused and disembowled from it's own attempts to destroy itself. No fire will stop it, takes to long to burn. Not enough bullets around to shred, none strong enough to chop those limbs. Easier to distract it, block its path. Only the obscured are safe."

"Sometimes the mud here gurgles. Something bulges from it, then many things, appearing almost like sleeping infantile faces. A trio of hollow pores face those that disturb them, as this pale bloated orb rises by sinew support. Almost like an inflating balloon, the whole body rises in boneless meaty mass, and silently vibrates. The pores sing aloud, a song that sounds as if these orifices were not designed for it. These are the Candlesticks, useless and futile creatures, only able to sprout like grass and respond to all stimulation in fear. They are harmless, but best avoided, as their wails can gather fellow abominations. You can kill them, but they'll just grow back, or branch into more dreaded sprouts, better to ignore them. You know, sometimes you'll see something in those pores. Something like little pearls and tongues, staring out, yearning for something."

Dark Orchid pt 1

Some creatures from my old sci-fi horror doodle project when I was a late teen.
Might resurrect and rework it someday.

Descriptions in the alt text.

Morrowind: Nix Hound Cavalry of Redoran Watch
#morrowind #tes #dunmer #elder_scrolls

Go right ahead!

Honestly The Ignorant looks even cooler than the thing that inspired it!

The faceless and their "pets" that live in their head

Skunk Ape, purely to see how on earth you visualize the stink of a stinky Florida sasquatch.

Two side profile views of a mechanical dog that appears skeletal and with limbs and jaws made like swivels. The right dog is steel, the left one is brass. Green tubing runs through their hollow insides, connecting to a spherical "eye" inside the hollow head. A center image displays that the jaws can open as wide as a prepared bear trap.

VERY quick sketch made during a DND session of robo-dogs that gave the party a hassle.

I have to say this is one of your most powerful pieces!!!

A sea-shell headed god thing with pale skin and a long bending neck. He wears blue ribbons which surround him like loose ribs. His arms are artificial and bright red, clutching golden spears.

Shrileket: God of the Beautiful Wrath, God of the Spear, Sun-Dropper

Shrileket embodies focus, spears, venom, and revenge.

His arms are clay servants who attempt to annoy him into killing them. Unfortunately, he found it better to punish them with further eternal service.

A bird like creature sits with large and small spikes poking every which way, shining blue amongst it's black and red skin. Two massive taloned hands are held up while a smaller pair strangles a flower headed man.

Tilshek: God of the Ugly Rage, WindRammer, He-Who-Drums-The-Summit.

Tilshek is the embodiment of warm storms, tantrum, frenzy, spasm, drunken fury, and unjust punishment.

He ever strangles his most loyal servant, Mahtaa: champion of mercy, for a long ago betrayal.

Transparent creature with cherry red innards. It's head is triangular and flute like and a long finned umbilical cord acts as a tail.

Splinterjak

The smallest motes of Jak dust live on as Splinterjaks, miniscule serpents propelled by their umbilical cords.

They travel as sparkling swarms in the wind, passively whistling odd tunes that makes one's skin form bumps.

Massive swarms are know as "Moon Winters".

A small and scaly blue stone gray creature with 10 limbs (four legs, six mandible "arms") and six dark red eyes. It holds a cigar like burning roll of leaves within it's mandibles.

A quick fan Grappler of @simonroy.bsky.social 's Refugium comic: The Ciggy Badger

"With refuse often mistaken for signs of humanity, Ciggy Badgers roll leaves together and light them with a sparking "tooth" to smoke out parasites and ward predators. This skill is seemingly instinctual."

The Swords Grow Wild - Sniper of the Rebar Plains
A crimson Sakougar folds back it's still warm rifle proboscis to feed on freshly blasted Tagryxnie prey.

Learn about the alien life of Heliconia and more in the collaborative art zine VISIONS UNVEILED!

Support the Kickstarter below!

A small fluffy creature with chicken like legs and rat like arms holding a spear.

Sketches depicting various actions of the small fluffy creature. Upper left, the creature open its mouth, revealing a beak and teeth. Next to it is the creature squatting in meditation and another sketch depicting it smoking a cigar. Middle sketch depicts it running angrily with spear in hand, beside that the creature is wielding two knives.

A character concept made for fun with @Magistelle

A small creature that believes beings larger than itself are gods and wishes to hunt and slay them through tricks, traps, and relentless pursuit.

It hunt you like mammoth.

A large blue scaly creature with wild black hair that blankets the head and back. Its eyes are purple, framed by swirling brows and bordered by two large ears and even larger tusk. It appears quite lethal with large curved claws and a fat spikey tail.

Gift art for @monarobot.bsky.social of their cute lil Blin character, except big and haggard.

"Venture further into the colony and the afflicted get...stranger. The most common things you'll see are the Effigers, pigs broken into a childish shape. They walk on two legs, supported by what used to be theirs hocks. Their front legs are extended into arms, with their hooves multiplied and stretched into stiff crude fingers. The neck is curled forward, carrying a head that appears as if the snout was smashed in and bent with a hammer. Those eyes are saggy, and surrounded by wrinkle and dark meat with oily tears. Their virtually harmless, waddling on their awkward limbs and focusing solely on making crude objects and sculpters out of whatever materials available, from feces and mud to scavenged body parts. These crafts resemble toys and people, as if the Effigers are trying to recreate something. Their affectionately called "Jimmies" by some folks, but most prefer not to grow endearment for any of the Orchid's abominations. In desperate times we hunt them. Their easy prey, cant move fast and cant really fight, you don't even need to sneak up on them. Just walk up and club them. The Effiger's screams make it harder. Pigs usually sound pretty horrible, but these don't squeal...they scream, like children...... Best not to think too much on that. Their still just swine....just eerie swine. "

"The presence of the Orchid does not seem to recognize a difference between human beings and artificial intelligence, both are equally alive to it. A.I. were infested with a new sort of self awareness and a desperate wish to be human. Most were immobile boxes of metal and circuit, going mad from their own futility and brimming with intense spite and depression, something they never felt before. For others, those with access to mobile functions, they began the construction of their bodies. Most of these were quite crude, being A.I. who were never quite familiar with anatomy. Medical A.I. tended to have more sophisticated bodies, with the smarts to near accurately mimic the human body with synthetic muscle and access to medi-tech. A common technique borrowed from one "Pinocchio" A.I. to another is to hunt the loose pigs and use their skin as their own. This both avoids their still lingering safety protocols against harming humans, and satisfies their need to have skin. Some even trade skins and parts with fellow Pinocchios. The safety protocols also stop them from hurting the "Affected", they still recognize them as human despite their mutations. The Pinocchios are generally harmless towards humans, in fact often friendly. Their just....off putting to say the least."

"If you are to venture through were the pigs make crude effigies from mud, you will be pursued by their cruel counterpart. The Meddlers are absorbed in curiosity and a need to take things apart, object or living, but rarely put things back together. At least not correctly. Their whole anatomy is backwards, with it's spine facing forward, arms broken back like mantis limbs, legs facing the back of the body, and a head twisted into a mess. Despite this abnormality, they can move quite fast, often hopping or sprinting towards a target, or even sliding "belly" first on the mud. These creatures often destroy the muddy constructions of the Effiger pigs, or simply house themselves in them. They never attack the pigs themselves though, my guess is that they've taken enough pigs apart to be bored of them. Since they live so close to the poor things, anybody trying to get some meat has to deal with the Meddlers first. I think they were cats once, or dogs...maybe both?"

"Unfortunate worms, confused in their new forms, writhing in desperate attempt to understand what they are. They can no longer bark as they used to, or wag their tail, but new communication is found in the whimpers and gurgling whistles they share as they comfort each other. As they gather they realize a new purpose, a familiar and old thought prevails amongst their simple new minds. A desire for shelter, but not of metal or wood, but of flesh, of mother, of womb. The serpentine hounds learn to slither and move through clumsy trial and error, tasting the earth for signs of their goal. They find a man, one who once looked at them with love, now in terror. The Ensconce don't understand why the man is scared, but it doesn't matter, the goal is clear, they need it. In seconds they grab on with the remains of their limbs and burrow into the man's abdomen. They curl and hum inside his guts, finding peace in his warm quaking body, over come with nostalgia of the womb. The swarm bloats their corpse home, all at peace, until this body grows cold and a new hunt begins."

Dark Orchid pt 3

Some creatures from my old sci-fi horror doodle project when I was a late teen.
Might resurrect and rework it someday.

Descriptions in the alt text.

Hiding among the rings of a distant gas giant is a strange celestial body unlike any other. Probes have come to title the construct as "Ninanak", speculated to be an ancient biomechanical satellite that has since overgrown into an extraordinary being. Whatever its purpose once was, it now shields the world of it's birth like a rib cage containing a heart. An oceanic membrane between it's "ribs" contains an atmosphere that connects various celestial bodies, seemingly gained through unknown means of gravitational manipulation, perhaps using it's homeworld as a sinkhole to drag in things of interest. Many asteroids and moons have been taken in and broken down by Ninanak, slowly stripped of resources to sustain it's core planet named "Heliconia". Ninanak shows some signs of holding an A.I. intellect, seemingly picking worlds to strip of resources very carefully, and even rejecting things that do not fit its requirements or curiosity. On occasion, however, it has engulfed planets or structures with sapient life on them, leading to accidental colonization of Heliconia. There have been attempts to communicate with Ninanak, but it responses are few or incomprehensible. It is speculated that either the A.I. is not interested in talking, or it has overgrown it's own "mind" and it's body is running on instincts developed over its long, unrestrained existence.

The Swords Grow Wild: Ninanak

The vast biomechanical megastructure that guards and maintains the alien world of Heliconia.

Further description in Alt text.

"I follow the great tracks of molars that scar the earth as the steps of it’s maker boom throughout the Pale City. The fungal suit I’ve bonded with tracks the unique lunar spores with it’s porous snout, guiding me like an old-world blood hound snug against my skin. The clouds cling low here, though not actual clouds, just the white layers of spores kicked up in thick plumes by the giant. It makes spotting anything on ground level near impossible, so I pick a sturdy enough husk of a building and climb. Not much of the structures in the Pale City are made of the stone, steel and rebar of the past, much of it has been slowly overgrown and replaced by the fungus that now blankets the world. I’m lucky the building I picked still has it’s bones, most are just hollow fungal ghost no longer meant for human feet. My suit keeps me from getting too exhausted, absorbing as much oxygen from the air as it can, but even then I felt my breath taken away by the view. The fingers of living tombstone architecture scrapes against the heavens, but even they feel small compared to the lumbering Moon Crown. Its named for the glow of its intensely white bones, like that of a corpulent moon. It's beautiful enough to almost make you forget the wine red mycelium cords puppeteering those bones. The rhythm and strength of the contracting strings as they heave dislocated jaws like limbs is hypnotic and tireless, keeping this giant skull on the move for all eternity. As far as anyone knows its all the Moon Crown does, just walk and shed “snow” wherever they go, never veering from their path and crushing whatever gets in the way. Personally, I want to know if there’s a reason for such a thing to exist. God given or instinct driven, there has to be motivation behind those hollow sockets. Are you searching for something? Spreading seed? Is some old memory in that ancient brain case still in there, demanding anything but that final sleep? Why do you keep going?"

The Moon Crown Marches
(updated)

A piece done for the art zine "Visions Unveiled" published by @kingofseagulls.bsky.social in collaboration with @tachyonart.bsky.social, @crabdominalpain.bsky.social, and @spacemacchiato.bsky.social.

Description in Alt text.

"In the great wide stretches of this world’s atmosphere there gently paddles giants unlike any other. The Shell Haven is a filter feeding descendant of terrestrial Coneshells whose broad sky-plankton diet has allowed it to reach unrivalled sizes. Within their namesake shells are buoyancy air-bladders that keep them stable while massive “wings” and twin siphons push them ever forward through the clouds, their expanding mouths agape for food. Although gentle animals, they are extremely deadly combatants towards territorial rivals and predators. What mass and a dense shell cannot solve, the Shell Haven has a harpoon launching proboscis within it’s throat, only revealed when aggravated. The proboscis grows hundreds of modified radula harpoons which generate throughout the year, readying to be blasted out by the combustion of gas rapidly towards targets. The burst can be so powerful that a flash is produced, with Shell Haven combat lighting up clouds in the night sky during nocturnal fire fights. The death of a fully grown Shell Haven is rare to see, with the closest thing to active predators fleeing with chunks of living meat rather than a full kill, but a true death is an event for the local ecosystem. The colossal body will float for potentially years until scavengers finally bore through enough air-bladders to sink the beast. These Shell-Falls produce clouds of organic matter that rain decay and swarm with hungry life, becoming quite a foul smelling festival until the shell crashes upon the earth below. Some clever creatures have learned to make a home of these pale tombstones to the mighty sky giants, nesting along the hollows of the innards. Cleverer creatures have crafted great balloons to make these shells fly once more, using them as great cloud fortresses and warships."

Shell Haven, Low Gravity Colossi

A piece done for the art zine "Visions Unveiled" published by @kingofseagulls.bsky.social in collaboration with @tachyonart.bsky.social , @crabdominalpain.bsky.social, and @spacemacchiato.bsky.social.

Lore in Alt Text