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jflaxman β Shape of Despair
#apocalypse #apocalyptic #barren #beast #being #biped #bipedal #bleak #cold #creature #dark #dream #dreamscape #fiction #giant #grey #illustration #james #journey #machine #mech #mechanical #mechanoid #monster #post #rain #robot #ruin #scene #scenery
Published: 2019-03-29 07:58:08 +0000 UTC; Views: 40582; Favourites: 1131; Downloads: 120
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Description
Evocative work.Related content
Comments: 58
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I'd like to ride it, but I can't find the coin slot.Β
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reminds me of the youtube animated short film "redone"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=wuZs9bβ¦
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Would it be Ok if I can use this concept for a fictional S.C.D.A Report for my literature? It would be great if I can!
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Thanks again! This picture's a bit hard to place. For me it's more of a surreal than sci fi piece (as you're probably aware, that pesky square-cube law limits the practical size of animals and walking machines on worlds like our own). I've put it in Dreamscapes but I'm impressed with viewers' stories that draw on their takes of Scorched Earth.
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Well... If you insist.
I sat calmly on the crest of the hill overlooking the strange mechanical monstrosity sat silently among the gloomy valley. My companions all had their weapons drawn and excited breaths escaped their lips as we surveyed the scene i front of us. I was simply smiling, knowing full well what was going to happen. My followers, devoted flock as they were, could recall by heart the atrocities this rusting hulk could unleash and were nervous, some cowering behind their guns in makeshift posts dug into the ashen hilltop.
We looked into the valley and, sure enough there it was, flying its banners made of stretched out skinned animals, blazing oil soaked torches and hastily welded together cobble of shanty shacks made from the surrounding debris fields the beast would leave in its wake, a brand new settlement resting underneath it, between its legs. Standing calmly, keeping a very watchful eye on the newcomers sitting on the hilltop, was a single sentry. A gaunt, heavy set man holding a spear tipped with a sharpened RPG shell.
It was the same thing every few years. Some unknown or fresh clan would skulk their way out of the wastes, usually the Paragon Ashlands, and lay claim to the mechanical monster. A small cult, pirate band or raider group would form from it, and they would, within a few months figure out how to get it to switch on and try use it. What for? Same old, same old. Cults worshiped it as a demon of the wastes and called upon it to decimate unbelievers. Raider gangs and pirate gangs would use it to gain plunder and try to dominate and control.
The Concordat however saw it more as a lesson to be learned, rather than a means of conquest. The machine had a mind of its own, and obeyed only its long dead creators. I took out my binoculars and looked up carefully, and sure enough, almost as if on queue, a cultist of the new settlement was holding the little present i left them - a two fourty kilowatt fusion core needed to start the monster up. I planted it weeks ago, they finally figured out where to put it.
'Hm... took them longer than expected. Shows what happens when you spend more time praying than actually working.' I said calmly to my assembled followers, all but my lieutenant scared, nervous and prepared for a massive fight to the death.
'Master... I have a shot on the priest. I can put him down before he turns that thing on.' One of my subordinates said, i could sense the fear in his voice.
'Dont be silly! We want it to turn on. This will be your final lesson before you join your own warband, and take the Oath. Cant lose your nerve now. Now, holster your weapon, and watch the show.' I said calmly, gesturing for my lieutenant to stand behind him ready to deal out disciplinary action.
He sighed and relented with a 'yes master', holstering his gun and sitting up straight to watch. And on queue, the priest slid the device into a slot on the back of the beasts neck and it sprung to life with a monstrous mechanical roar that echoed throughout the entire valley, accompanied by a high pitched shriek of steam and energy as the fusion core discharged heat from the startup sequence. Watching the 'ceremony' from the hill, i couldnt help but let out a sinister chuckle, as i knew full well what would happen. The ceremony proceeded and they brought out their 'chosen one', a person among the tribe they thought would be able to identify the machine and ride it into battle like a knight upon a stallion. A tall towering beast of a man, muscled like a tiger and covered head to toe in war paint and tattoos. He stood in front of a console, laid his hands on it... uttered some meaningless tribal gibberish.
And the rampage began. The beast reared up, tossing the people standing on its back some 100 feet to a messy end below, scattering them around, one screaming fool landing on the sentry at the front gate on his way down, killing them both. The machine, bolted, running faster than youd possibly expect such a beast to manage, doing a full twenty miles before turning around and charging back at the spot where it stood. Its claws extended, grazing the ground as it ran and from the tip of its head, its signature laser cannons extended, and began blasting the settlement to pieces.
Within minutes, the entire cult, settlement and everything there was reduced to a corpse strewn pile of debris. The beast returned to the exact same spot it started and then... silence. 'Well then... lets go see if we can find some loot then. Cultists are fantastic artisans, we might find some nice carvings or other treasures. This is my favorite part!' I exclaimed and hopped up from my perch and skipped excitedly across the 2 mile stretch of wasteland, gathering up ammunition clips, trinkets or other debris that dropped from the rampage on the way there.
The warband i commanded moved with speed and precision, gathering up and charging towards the settlement with a renewed vigor and picked me up on the way there. It was carnage. Bodies of men, women, children and elders strewn in every direction, hanging from posts, pieces of shattered bone sticking through walls and what was left of small structures. Two survivors, from a population of nearly 200. We enslaved one of them, finished off the other. And we stayed for several hours picking through the wreckage while i climbed up the beasts back, to the spot where the chosen one was. I let out a loud laugh, nearly losing my balance as the sight of the poor fool - reduced to nothing but a skeleton from the energy discharge still stood at the console. One of my followers came with me out of curiosity and he stood dumbstruck in shock at the horrific sight.
'Master... w-' I raised a hand, cutting him off mid sentence.
'See? Do you see it!? The wastes are scattered with hundreds of derelicts just like this. And every time it ends the same. Instead of destroying it and trying to use the resources to build their own future they instead try to use the same technology that destroyed the world to rebuild it. Instead of creating their own vision, their own life, their own way of truth... Instead of working hard, they settle in a mass grave and try to use the tombstone left behind as a house, instead of taking the effort to clean it out and start anew.' I stated, starting a sermon from my perch, my followers could all clearly hear me.
'See that?' I said, gesturing to the core port. 'The central control computer on this thing has been fried for decades, trapped in a feedback loop. The damage is irreparable and the core programming is fried. It goes out, does a roundabout, comes back, sees its home base is covered in enemy, and obliterates it, shorting itself out again and again in the process, and every time the damage is patched up again and the core program, and the feedback loop its stuck in resets, and the cycle renews. This is your final lesson. To think and act for yourself is the greatest thing you can ever do. Your final lesson is simple: Everything that is done must be done by ones own hand. If you use the mistakes of your ancestors, then you will be plagued by the same shortfall that gave them their deaths. This is what happens when you rely too much on the works of others, it fails, and youve no recourse because you wouldnt find a way to make it useless by your OWN works! A history lesson. Over reliance on technology made our forebears weak, and when the world collapsed, and turned to the ash, they couldnt adapt. The machines they built, generation after generation, started thinking FOR them. The ones who lived through it... were the ones who thought for themselves.'
My sermon concluded... and a lesson was learned. We picked the site clean and i took the expended core out of its housing in the machines back, twisted its cap open, replaced its fuel rod and with a very sarcastic tone, threw it off the side, letting it hit the sand below in a very clearly, easily found spot, near its left leg. 'Oh dear... Woopsie! Such a butterfingers.'
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StalinGrad6 : my choice to request a story from you was correct.
your story was excellent!
good work, man!
your writting skills are good.
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Sorry to keep you waiting! Home life comes first on weekends and this story deserves a proper response.
I'll agree with Bigfoot427 in that it was a damn good read. I liked the air of tension at the start and the way it increased as the cultists' ritual unfolded. I'll admit I found their destruction very satisfying but the end was the best part of all. There are obvious parallels between the machine's destructive rampages and the equally cyclic behaviour of the followers who never learn. It's a potent metaphor for the way blind faith, greed and ignorance have led to war after war. It could even be a commentary on free will and determinism: can humans shape their destinies or are they as pre-programmed as any machine?
After reading Bigfoot427's story - which I also thought was very good - I was tempted to rename this "Enigma," but the themes you've brought up - which I never thought of while I was working on this piece - make "Shape of Despair" appropriate. As with some of my older works (The Songless Bird and My Hope, The Destroyer) it started as a tribute to one of my favourite doom metal bands. I put it in my Dreamscapes collection as it seemed like softer sci fi than what I've posted in Scorched Earth, but I'm impressed with how well two people have woven it into a greater Scorched Earth mythos. When viewers' takes on my work are this good I'd much rather read them than lay down laws!
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Damn. Now that was GOOD.
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amazing work as always, my friend.
this is a gorgeous drawing of a mechanical behemoth, that once roamed the earth as a brand-new war-machine, and it is now considered obsolete, forgotten, and its rusting away in a distant wilderness...
i really like that its shaped like a clever combination between a robot, a spaceship and a dinosaur/dragon.
its perfectly combined together, and i even notice some torn parts on its body, which indicate that it could possibly have had a ''skin'' back when it was new.
was it perhaps a cyborg robotic-beast?
i like its nice pose, its general outlook, the way it leans, and how nicely its legs are arched, while its tail is nicely drawn as well.
the robotic ridges+flaps on its back are also nicely drawn and in great detail as well.
another great detail in this, are the two human bystanders, who are possibly scavengers that went on a recon mission in the wilderness.
they are all nicely drawn, with realistic poses, good cloth outfits, and with their backpacks, while one of them carries a rifle, and the other holds a cart for their supplies.
i feel that this picture hides a great story to be told, and only you can say it in full justice, my friend.
either way, its great seeing new beautiful art by you.
keep up the excellent work!
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Thank you so much for another great response. I'm sorry it took me so long to reply.
This picture's a bit hard to place. There's a bit of Scorched Earth in the realistic human figures, a bit of Dreamscapes in the vast grey landscape, and a bit of Necromechanics in the giant cyborg. All this worked better than expected; it's one of the rare pictures I enjoyed from start to finish and I've been getting better at conveying scale and distance. The warm hues and sharp details on the figures in the foreground help set them apart from the cooler background. There's still lots of detail on the cyborg but it isn't so clearly defined.
I'd also hoped to give this scene a sense of awe and mystery. It could inspire countless stories and StalinGrad6 and Bigfoot427 each posted one worth featuring. I won't say either's canon though as I think images like this work best as a starting point for all kinds of imaginings!
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interesting! 
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looks like an Imperial Walker & a T-Rex had a baby
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The creature or machine makes me think of the mass produced EVAs (or a wingless khezu - neither are comforting). The somewhat antiquited clothing and firearm of the two men adds a zeerist (I think that is what it is called) touch too.
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It's like a medieval Star Wars thing! Love it!
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So what is this exactly? An old rusted up war machine of some kind?
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That's the general idea. I like killerweinerdog and Bigfoot427's descriptions as they're better than anything I had in mind.
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This is pretty cool. I am suprised that this thing didn't manage to fall on the ground while it was corroding.
Keep it up!
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ο΄ΎΝ‘ΰΉΜ―Ν‘ΰΉο΄Ώ O'RLY?
( Ν‘Β° ΝΚ Ν‘Β°)
Β π€βοΈ»Μ·ΜΏβ»ΜΏββδΈ
Β Β Β Β Β π€Β
(Β¬βΏΒ¬)
My Kill Back Off
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Looks like a Zoid, but a bit more organic in appearance. It's a really cool design.
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*Thinks in the doom funeral finish band. :V*
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This title's a tribute to Shape of Despair! I'd also considered Blind Guardian but doom metal's more my style. A couple of my other pics (The Songless Bird and My Hope, The Destroyer) are named after songs from My Dying Bride.
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Oh... I didn't know that... Well, we've something in common, I like Doom Metal.
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I wish the new AT-AT from the new star wars movies were like this instead of looking like gorilas...Β
How that Franchise was ruined
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Β An ancient walking fortress, built in the facsimile of an even older creature from children's fairy tales. Its masters are long dead, but still it waits patiently, for someone to take the helm again and lead it to the victories it remembers, far back in the deepest recesses of its databanks.
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I love reading descriptions like this!
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Love this world your're creating, eldritch abominations and all.
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Thanks! You'll be seeing more!
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We were never really sure what to make of it. It was very foggy, and we were walking through uncharted territory-- uncharted for us, anyway. At first, we thought it was just another one of those mutated bearded geckos just cresting the hill to our east; they're usually very solitary, so it would've made sense why it was all alone. But when we got closer to the hill and the thing didn't move, we realized just how far away, and how huge, this thing we found really was. It was taller than that pre-Schism bank back in Blacktop, and even sketchier-looking than that, if you'd believe me! We were just... captivated by what we were looking at. It never occurred to us that this thing could've sprung to life at any second, faking rigor mortis as a means to lure unsuspecting onlookers to their doom. But like I said, the idea never occurred to us, because it never happened. It just stood there, rusting away, all by its lonesome.Β
After Jakob broke our speechless trance by asking what I thought it was, I struggled to find a sensible answer. At first, I theorized it was some sort of attraction for some pre-Schism theme park, but Jakob countered by asking, "Then why aren't there any other attractions around here?" I would've responded that maybe it was built with sturdier materials than the other attractions, but I realize how that wouldn't have made too much sense, so I just told him, "Good point." Jakob thought it was some over-the-top, meaningless art installation that one of the Veyon Founders built from before the Schism. Sound reasoning, considering just how frivolous some of those rich dickbags were some 20-something years ago. Whatever it was, we thought, it was sturdily-built for it to have sat out this long and not collapsed due to lack of maintenance. For a minute or two, we considered coming back here in the near future to try and salvage the outer hull for scrap, but then we decided that there'd be a fat chance we'd find it again with all the fog in the region. Besides, it felt right in some way to leave the metal monster be: it wasn't harming anyone, and it was just so odd for it to be in the middle of nowhere that to dismantle it didn't seem right in some way.
We eventually reach Aesop Hills about two hours later. After reporting our findings to the locals, they were in various states of confusion, as were we. According to them, the giant robo-reptile we found isn't supposed to be there, as CMIC scouts used to comb that area for salvage and pre-Schism mines, but never found anything. One local scavver said he had passed through that area just yesterday, and never found anything along the route that we took, not even the prints of the machine's feet in the dirt. Whatever we did find was apparently new, despite the amount of rust decaying material around the machine implying otherwise. A few days later, we took our route back in hopes of coming across the machine, certain we didn't hallucinate the mysterious goliath. But, like the locals said, the machine wasn't there. It was eerie, like the feeling you get when someone's watching you from far away, but you don't know where. We never found out it where it came from, what it was built for, why no-one from Aesop Hills found it, or why we only found it the one time. Some mysteries are best left unsolved, I suppose.
- Maynard Corax
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I was going to make a story myself but its kinda pointless now. you got it better than me.
on one hand DAMN YOU YOU BEAT ME TO IT
on the other hand I LOVED WHAT YOU DID.
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