This is a blog to sponsor and promote an in the making novel written by two young souls with an amazing story. This story follows a group of vigilante. Yes we know what your thinking, "Anther superhero story, jeeeeez". Well fear not, this nothing that...
Third set, sorry for the delay! This will be the last bigger one for now, that also means that you can now download my Halloween texture set (Links below).
Some things I wanna mention: These textures are designed around UNPCM, so better pick a body similar to that to avoid distortions. There are several quality options included, as well as some RaceMenu overlays you can use as âglowmapsâ if you select a glowing color for them in RM.
Please check the readme for more information.
If you want to use the textures for screenshots, I highly recommend using an interior cell to get the best out of the normalmaps.
Thanks to HHaleyy, because the textures are based on Fair Skin Complexion (awesome as a clean base). Also big thanks @halofarm for technical help and hosting the files.
WALDGEIST Texture Set v 1.2
Download: Direct Download | MEGA
Permissions (for now):
Donât reupload/redistribute please, until I figure out what Iâm gonna do with them (race, follower, whatever). Feel free to share your screenshots wherever you want.
Day two of inktober here at the Basement. Our prompt was Demon so here you are. The character is our resident Nephilim John fighting either his inner demons or real ones. You decide.
Here at the Basement were doing Inktober. Our first prompt was "Goul", so here's our first piece. Our Warlock about ti kill one of these creatures. Can't wait to do more!
You canât just say it, man. Youâve gotta feel it in your blood and guts! If you wanna rock, you gotta break the rules. You gotta get mad at the man!
midwestern vampires who smoke clove cigs in church parking lots and try to ignore their hunger pains as they watch students from the college in the next town over stumbling out of local bar, alcohol in their bloodstream
midwestern demons with yellow eyes and bloody teeth walking along deserted highways in the early hours of the morning, their pupils reflecting the headlights of cars with passengers who feel fear grip their hearts as they pass by
midwestern witches who wear muddy boots and garage sale rings and who always carry salt in their bags, who drink river water and pour circles of whiskey on the underbrush and feel hundreds of hands on their skin
midwestern ghosts who dwell in the basements of abandonned farmhouses and rip old wallpaper from the decaying walls with misty fingers and trancelike eyes
Headcannon for standard Alternian timeline security combat gear.
Enclosed helmet, built in night and thermal vision, target tracker, ammo count, earpiece and mic.
Multi plated body armour, lightweight, indefinitely stops standard rounds, decreased penetration of most armour piercing rounds, dissipates most stun round charges.
Tactical trousers, Inbuilt armour plates to the above specifications.
Steel capped combat boots.
Fully enclosed armour platet gloves, Inbuilt gps, communications and tracking systems.
Weaponry consists of a pistol, interchangeable standard, armour piercing, stun and explosive rounds.
Battle rifle, semi and full auto, same interchangeable rounds as above, larger caliber.
Boot knife, blade blackened to minimise glinting.
Sword, blade blackened to minimise glinting.
All weaponry shown is standard, some trolls may use differing blade types depending on personal preference.
There was a dilapidated hospital in Buffalo, New York. This hospital was here before the Fall, before the Cards, before all of these stories took place. The weathered building laid here---abandoned and closed down on 400 Forest Avenue. It was a disheveled mess...disgusting and horrid to the eye. In 1990, no one thought it would be the setting of world changing events, some amazing and some horrible. That is to say, no one could have predicted what would happen years in the future after this building, with its terrible past, would come to be the home of heroes, of gods, and of change.
In the July of 1990, a young man by the name of Felix Eriksson, fresh out of the military, and his aspiring counterpart, Annabelle Lee, arrived at this old asylum, deed in hand and a mission; he was ready to turn this place into somewhere where freedom, justice, and family can prosper. The renovations began in 1991, and in that same year the first addition arrived, who was a memorable young pixie boy. Then 1992 came, two more arrived, a fish-man with a smiling soul, and a Warlock with mystery and charm. In 1993, a detective arrived to investigate the new protectors of the city---she too decided to stay. 1994 was the year the team had finally made their true mark on the city, and their home watched as they made history.
These six had become the new masked vigilantes of Buffalo; and the old hospital was their base of operations, affectionately called, âThe Basementâ. They had been swooping in and saving those in immediate need. In a twist of fate, some of those souls would join their fold.
It was a quiet September night when the team was on patrol, and the heroes were engaged in a heated discussion.
âThis isnât a bloody rat infestation weâre discussing! We have roughly two thousand restless spirits mucking about in our home!â Warlock insisted.
The Detective let out a contemplative hum of agreement.
âMuch as I'd like to avoid another night of fruitless argument, the conjuror has a point.â
Nightflyer gave an exasperated huff. âSorcerer, Panda. He gets all fussy when you get the two mixed up.â
âRight, anyway it would be wise to perform some sort of exorcism or cleansing if weâre going to continue living in the asylum. At the very least, we can dispose of all the ashes.â
âMillions of jars of ashes to sort through, angel-fish,â the human-fish hybrid known as Arthur commented. âMight be a bit of a handful, even for Merlin here.â
The team continued this discussion well into the night. As the waining moon rose higher into the sky, Nightflyer noticed someone was absent from the conversation.
âSniper?â she called into her communicator. âYouâve been awful quiet tonight.â
âShhh,â came the response from the marksman.
Nightflyer noticeably sputtered and dipped in her flight path. âDid you just shoosh me?!â she said outraged.
âQuiet,â he replied. âIâve got something.â A familiar âclickâ could be heard over the secure channel as Sniper prepped his trademark rifle.
Nightflyer immediately shifted into a serious tone. âWhat do you see?â
âThree perps, all male, one possible victim, female, alley way. Girl looks under the influence,â Sniper reported.
âClear shot?â Nightflyer asked.
Sniper let out a small hum of confirmation. âDonât I always?â
âTake care of the blighters, but try not to paint us as maniacs please,â the Detective requested.
âAlright, Iâll clip the furthest one from the entrance. Flyer, drop on contestant number two. Warlock, try and hex the middle one. Heâll have the easiest shot at injuring her if this gets ugly.â
The aforementioned heroes confirmed the plan, and Sniper squeezed the trigger. Before the young lady could muster a full scream, one assailant fell to the ground while gripping his leg the other disappeared in a flash of violet wings, the final one, brandishing a knife, prepared to fight his way out, when suddenly his entire body seemed to lock up. Sniper reloaded and signalled the other two to fall back. âAlright, Detective youâre up. Sheâll need to see a friendly face,â
âBoss?â the Detective started. âI believe she has other plans,â she finished as the young woman bolted into the street.
Just as two vehicles approached.
âStop her!â Sniper ordered.
The Detective ran out as fast as she could, halting to delay one car successfully. The other one was not as quick, and the sickening sound of tires squealing and flesh against metal sounded into the air.
Silence filled the channel, until broken by Snipers now shuttering voice, âDetective, get her out of the street, Arthur, Warlock help the driver and any passengers⊠Iâll be down there in a moment.â
This was their first incident as a team, and it shook them all, they had become too assured of their abilities. Now someone was hurt, and they couldn't have stopped it.
Detective was immediately at the girlâs side, waving off the driver and attempting to access major injuries. Sniper had dropped down to the street level, watching with a heavy weight on his heart.
âReport,â he requested mechanically.
The Detective hovered her hands along the girlâs back. âMassive spinal trauma, broken pelvis as well as two ribs. Boss, I donât have the tools to handle this in the street, she needs a proper hospital.â
âFine. Warlock, can you port her there?â he asked. After a moment of silence he snapped. âWarlock!â
The sorcerer had been frozen in place, uncertain of his magicâs ability to help in the matter. âI can try, it wonât be easy to avoid making her injuries worse.â
âIt wonât do her anymore good to wait on an ambulance. Do it,â the marksman ordered.
As his team tended to the injured girl, Sniper pulled out a phone and began altering his funds. âI need a name,â he said without looking up.
The Detective tentatively searched the girlâs pockets. Finding her wallet, she slipped an I.D. card out. âGinger Ackerman, fifteen years of age. Blimey, sheâs just a kid,â she said.
Sniper managed to keep a professional stance and entered her name. Instantly, Gingerâs financial accounts were filled with enough funds to provide plenty for any medical treatment she would need upon arriving at the hospital.
âDoesnât look like she has any immediate family connected to her information. This is going to be hard to explain,â he commented.
âIf she lives,â Warlock muttered as light emitted from his fingertips.
âShe will make it,â Sniper said in a deathly low tone. âThereâs no âifâ to it, understood?â
Warlock nodded before disappearing in a flash of light along with the girl and the Detective. Nightflyer landed beside the team leader and crossed her arms.
âHe looked like he was ready to faint,â she observed. âYou didnât have to grill him like that,â
âSheâs going to make it,â Sniper affirmed. Nightflyer observed him carefully, before sighing and placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.
âYeah, she will,â she assured. Whether it was just for him or both of them she wasnât sure.
=
The team returned home, shaken by the revelation of their first true defeat. The Basement offered some comfort, but most of the heroes found themselves anxiously awaiting news from the hospital.
They would later learn that Gingerâs recovery would be far more than a matter of knitting broken bones.
The damage to her spinal cord was catastrophic, and the emotional trauma of the night before plagued her mind. Felix had many networks of innovative investors, granting him access to medical procedures otherwise the stuff of science fiction. Ginger would walk again.
Whether or not she would have the will to was another hurdle all its own.
The young woman had been struggling long before paralyzation was even an issue. Possessing potential all but unseen by her parents, she had run away at a young age, living on the streets and falling deeper and deeper into a destructive lifestyle. It took months of coaxing in her recovery, but Ginger honestly believed if the crash hadnât occurred she would have been dead anyway.
In their first failure, the team had found their greatest triumph.
Thanks to the charity of a brilliant neurologist along the warmth of the Basement and her tenants, Ginger eventually joined the team.
In the eyes of a young blue pixie, now only nine and known as Clinic, they were more of a family.
During 1995, the teamâs anonymity was quickly disappearing as more and more people attempted to photograph and record the heroes behind the stories of valor. Some wanted to seek the truth, others pursued profit, while many simply wanted to give thanks to these courageous individuals.
The next year was rather quiet, the calm before the storm as fate would have it. Although they had been aware of the paranormal elements of the world, the Basementâs team was in for an abrupt introduction to it first hand. In the form of one John Gabriel.
A Nephilim, an angel human hybrid, John was struggling with his place in the cosmos. Determined to make good of his existence, and inspired by the work of Sniper and his band, he fell in Buffalo in a thunderstorm, eager to throw in his lot with theirs.
Sniper agreed, on the condition that he kept the thunderstorms to a minimum.
By 1998, the team had galvanized from a group of altruistic strangers to a well-oiled, crime fighting crew.
Seeing through the glamour, Sniper saw the need for an honest element to his team. Heâd spent years molding them into a unit, and countless hours during that time bringing them closer into something more. He was sure of their support in choosing someone new.
His choice, however, was not well received.
=
âThis is a joke, right?â Anne pressed.
Felix gave no indication that he was anything but serious about his choice. However, he was showing signs of an oncoming headache.
âWhen have I even not been serious regarding who we bring into the fold, Anne?â he questioned the spirited woman.
Anne crossed her arms, eyes blazing in disbelief.
âSince when do we recruit from prison? Hell, young as this punk his itâll probably be juvenile hall!â
âHis record shows nothing beyond a slap on the wrist from the authorities, a couple weeks at the most,â Felix continued.
The idea did not go much better with the other members of the team either.
âHeâs gonna die,â John said bluntly.
Warlock and Detective, in their civilian identities as Jonathan and Samantha, were debating whether their new recruit would serve as a practice dummy or cannon fodder.
Even Clinic, devoted to Felix as the little nymph was, looked puzzled by his surrogate fatherâs judgment.
âHe looks mean, and like heâd get hurt a lot,â he spoke honestly.
Arthur slicked back his hair with a webbed hand. âYeah, chief,â he spoke slowly. âDoesnât seem like the type we usually go for. Guppyâs probably just another thug to be.â
The rest of the room said their agreements, until Ginger, who decided she enjoyed the name Tabby better knocked a vase to the ground with the tail like extension to her new spine, to get everyoneâs attention. Her face was set in a neutral yet accusatory look.
âSo what? A kidâs background is a little rough, so heâs not good enough for you all? Maybe you should just keep the pretty street kids,â she put bluntly.
No one seemed to have a reply for her.
âLook,â Felix caught their attention. âWeâll keep the kid under observation a while longer if it will help convince you, but I know potential when I see it.â His expression softened a fraction. âEven if it's harder to see in certain people, you just have to dig a bit deeper.â
The room bashfully came to an agreement. Even if some doubt lingered, no one was going to be the first to pick a fight with Felix and Tabby.
So it was decided; their newest member would remain under watch until Felix determined he was ready.
The kid in question? A gutter-punk from Boston with a chip on his shoulder, a foul mouth, and a bleeding heart.
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