"Creative" stuff yall working on?(writing, art, games, music, construction, cooking, gardening, etc)

Neuromancer

Neuromancer

Son of the Robot
Supporter
Joined
Oct 16, 2015
Messages
77,769
Reputation
14,993
Daps
187,323
Reppin
A Villa Straylight.
The Millennial Falcon™ said:
are there a few illustrators on that site looking for work or open to being hired for jobs? i currently have a project i'm working on with one illustrator i've known for sometime but i want to hire another to speed things up and possibly have options.
Click to expand...
yes take a look.
 
Lordgodking Nyc

Lordgodking Nyc

I'm with the $hits
Joined
Dec 20, 2017
Messages
1,207
Reputation
100
Daps
3,267
Reppin
NYC
The 12 foot orange subway support pillars were concrete messengers of death. The locomotive I was trapped on suddenly leaped to a high rate of speed and returned to the fearsome darkness of the catacomb tunnels as it exited the 34 st station. The train continued to accelerate reaching the highest speed it had yet to achieve while I was a mortified captive to it. My adolescent fingers gripped the handrails for dear life as the train bounced and skipped haphazardly along the warped and dented Manhattan subway tracks. The pitch black of subterranean Manhattan was space like and this train was a rocket. The illumination of the approaching station appeared as a pin hole in the dark decrepit distance. From memory I knew the next stop was 23 st and 6th avenue. 23rd St. was a dingy, deserted local F and B train station. This station did not showcase those dangerous ceiling high concrete support pillars. The middle aged Conductor began to apply the hydraulic air brakes as trash container transport train entered the midtown Manhattan subway station. The 200 ft long moderately lit subway platform was situated on the right hand side of the late night trash receptacle train. The seedy secluded station was completely devoid of awaiting passengers due to the late AM hour. The dingy white porcelain tiles, similar to those used in household bathrooms, glowed from floor to ceiling spanning the entire length of the station way. Occasionally along the graffiti scrawled walls were mosaics of miniature brown beige and white tiles. These tiles were organized to form large twenty threes that designated the station’s name. The locomotive continued to decelerate to the point I thought it was about to stop completely. As I moved to the edge of the train I had to spread my legs widely to compensate for the expanding gap separating the train cars. I held my balance by gripping the rusty rattling handrails, watching all forms of trash and debris fly by beneath my feet. The engine suddenly leaped back to life gaining magnificent speed by the second. Before I could think my nimble body had launched into the air. I was flying 3 ft above the long jagged strip of chipped yellow paint. The sun colored boundary line crawled crookedly along the edge of the subway platform.

Section of a book I'm writing
:win:
 
CarbonBraddock

CarbonBraddock

You will be trolled
Joined
May 13, 2015
Messages
17,171
Reputation
8,192
Daps
80,862
Lordgodking Nyc said:
The 12 foot orange subway support pillars were concrete messengers of death. The locomotive I was trapped on suddenly leaped to a high rate of speed and returned to the fearsome darkness of the catacomb tunnels as it exited the 34 st station. The train continued to accelerate reaching the highest speed it had yet to achieve while I was a mortified captive to it. My adolescent fingers gripped the handrails for dear life as the train bounced and skipped haphazardly along the warped and dented Manhattan subway tracks. The pitch black of subterranean Manhattan was space like and this train was a rocket. The illumination of the approaching station appeared as a pin hole in the dark decrepit distance. From memory I knew the next stop was 23 st and 6th avenue. 23rd St. was a dingy, deserted local F and B train station. This station did not showcase those dangerous ceiling high concrete support pillars. The middle aged Conductor began to apply the hydraulic air brakes as trash container transport train entered the midtown Manhattan subway station. The 200 ft long moderately lit subway platform was situated on the right hand side of the late night trash receptacle train. The seedy secluded station was completely devoid of awaiting passengers due to the late AM hour. The dingy white porcelain tiles, similar to those used in household bathrooms, glowed from floor to ceiling spanning the entire length of the station way. Occasionally along the graffiti scrawled walls were mosaics of miniature brown beige and white tiles. These tiles were organized to form large twenty threes that designated the station’s name. The locomotive continued to decelerate to the point I thought it was about to stop completely. As I moved to the edge of the train I had to spread my legs widely to compensate for the expanding gap separating the train cars. I held my balance by gripping the rusty rattling handrails, watching all forms of trash and debris fly by beneath my feet. The engine suddenly leaped back to life gaining magnificent speed by the second. Before I could think my nimble body had launched into the air. I was flying 3 ft above the long jagged strip of chipped yellow paint. The sun colored boundary line crawled crookedly along the edge of the subway platform.

Section of a book I'm writing
:win:
Click to expand...
are you wanting a critique of this
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top