Showing posts with label Camo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Camo. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2026

Engine Room / Camp Syndicate: Scoop of the Century 3 (Escape from Club Apophis, 62)

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Apophis ATELIER Underground, 5:00 PM

"A bit of advice, my dear. Never show weakness in a place like this."

MasterGin smirked, gloating over his victory. The sopping-wet teddy bear hung impaled on his manicured claws.

That bear held every piece of raw footage detailing the atrocities inside the Forbidden Zone, the only real evidence that could blow the story wide open and save the people trapped inside.

Without thinking, Lisa shoved him hard and snatched the soaked bear from his grip. Was it reckless? Absolutely. But you didn't become the lead investigative reporter on the Hexa Herald by playing it safe.

MasterGin’s pale eyes widened, his sharp face twisting into righteous indignation. Hissing, fangs gleaming, he seized the plushie back and flung it into a nearby trashcan with crisp precision.

Lisa watched it vanish beneath a pile of discarded silk scraps. A trail of wet stuffing and gray sludge marked its undignified trail across the polished white marble floor.

She stared down at her empty, soiled hands. Was this the end of the line? Was he going to kill her now? Would the relentless clatter of automated sewing machines be the last thing she ever heard? Or would she take her final breath surrounded by the heavy stench of clove cigarettes?

She felt sick.

MasterGin whipped a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket with an elegant snap of the wrist. Then he did something entirely unexpected: he took her dirty hands and began wiping them clean.

Lisa froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Wh-what are you doing?"

His touch was surprisingly gentle. He wasn't just wiping away the mud. His thumb massaged the tense muscles of her palms and fingers with firm, rhythmic pressure. He stepped closer, so close she could hear the soft intake of his breath. Lisa studied him, seizing the rare chance to examine an ancient vampire up close. His skin was flawless, no scars, not even the shadow of beard stubble, yet he looked paler than usual, faint violet shadows bruised beneath his eyes. Stressed? Overworked?

His thumb lingered over the pulse point on her wrist. His pale eyes held hers a fraction too long before he released her hands and stepped away.

"I don't make the rules," he said softly.

Her fingers trembled where his skin had touched hers. What was this, vampire jujutsu? Her palms felt slightly damp, coated in a faint floral fragrance. When she glanced down, a shimmering blue sheen glinted across her skin before soaking into her pores.

MasterGin flicked his chin toward the security camera mounted above his office doorway. One of its optical lenses zoomed in, focusing on them.

"Come with me."

He spun on his heels.

Lisa glanced at the camera. The watcher being watched? By who?

"Note to self," she murmured into her halophone mic. "My file on MasterGin needs a complete rewrite."

When she didn't move, he paused and glanced back, annoyance flicking across his features. "You want the Scoop of the Century. I want you to stop dripping sewer sludge on my imported marble. Come. I'll make it worth your while."

She hated herself for trailing after him like a stray puppy.

Steam hissed from the industrial pressing irons. Beneath the smell of hot starch and clove smoke, something older and far sweeter lay rotting.

As they walked, she secretly snapped rapid photos of the subterranean factory line, the towering looms, the demonic laborers, and the racks of multi-million dollar gowns.

MasterGin stopped beside a illuminated garment rack.

"This one." He pulled out a metallic gown that caught the factory lights like polished gold and held it up against her shoulder. "The bronze next to your golden complexion is divine."

"I can pick whatever I want?" She brushed past him, her eyes scanning the rack for the most ridiculously expensive price tag.

"Of course." He sounded amused by her sudden enthusiasm. "Do you doubt my generosity? I sent Yoon Jihoon dozens of custom pieces. I even formulated a specialized transdermal barrier that would have kept his skin from combusting in front of a stadium full of cameras."

Was that true, or just more theatrical bullshit?

"My flaw is not so different from yours, my dear. I merely wish to protect what is mine," MasterGin sighed, tossing her a heavy crystal bottle labeled SPF 100 Nano-Enhanced Sunscreen. "Would you believe that little Robotics Witch forced my sweet boy to incinerate every garment and gift I sent him? Pieces worth more than she'll earn in twenty lifetimes."

Lisa scanned the microscopic ingredient list on the bottle before slipping it securely into her dirty pocket. "He would've worn it if he actually knew what it was."

"His 'genius' girlfriend believed dime-store sunscreen could shield my precious creation from full glare daylight. He chose to follow her instead of me." His high-heeled foot stamped with irritation. "Rejecting my vision... for what? A Temu Scully?"

Lisa stared at the genuine, wounded expression on his face. "She's a scientist. How was she to supposed know things that aren’t real are real?" she blurted. "And I'm a reporter. I've got questions. Tell me what's real. But first..." She thrust the heaviest, most elaborate dress on the rack directly toward his face. "I want this one."

He raised an eyebrow.

"So I can have it?" Lisa pressed.

MasterGin slid a gilded privacy screen between them. "If you put it on immediately, yes. I refuse to let a sewer rat ruin the aesthetic of my private club."

He turned his back as the heavy fabric began to rustle behind the screen.

"Jihoon, eat your heart out," Lisa chuckled to herself, pulling gigantic elaborate gown over her shoulders. "I'm not burning shit. But you know I'm hocking this on eBay the second I get out of here, right?"

"Do what you will." MasterGin waved off her taunt as he pulled back the screen to inspect the drape. "It belongs to you now."

With swift, practiced grace, he gathered her tangled hair, twisting her braids into an intricate crown and pinning it in place with a sharp, winged gold tiara.

He snapped his fingers. A small demonic tailor shuffled out from behind the looms.

"Allow this gentleman to make the final adjustments. It will take only a moment."

Lisa opened her mouth to protest, the creature's skin was gross, its fingers tipped with long bone needles, but before she could take a breath, the work was finished.

The dress shifted, instantly tightening against her ribs, sculpting her silhouette into a flawless hour-glass without pinching her lungs.

"Whoa, neat trick! A corset built under a dress, but with no pain. What the hell kind of mystery fabric is this?"

The demonic tailor handed MasterGin a glowing halophone pad.

MasterGin lowered his tinted glasses, scrolling through the high-resolution displays before zooming in on a wireframe contour.

"Whatcha looking at?" Lisa stood on her tiptoes, trying to peek over his shoulder.

The screen displayed a full three-dimensional wireframe of her body, complete with precise volumetric measurements down to the millimeter.

"What the hell! Did that creepy thing just run a full-body scan on me?"

"You're welcome." MasterGin handed the pad back to the tailor. "Transmit these files to the clinic immediately. Have three complete looks prepared for her by tomorrow morning. I want her to dazzle."

The tailor bowed low and scampered into the shadows.

MasterGin raised a long, slender finger, gesturing for her to follow as he moved toward the exit. "That weave is strictly banned under UN regulatory accords. Fortunately, our syndicate doesn't recognize laws or international treaties. But be careful on eBay... I strongly recommend selling it on the Dark Web if you want full market value, instead of prison stripes."

Lisa stopped dead on the cold floor.

Unbelievable. He destroys her hard-won evidence, violates her personal space, scans her body without consent... and acts like he's doing her a favor.

"You’re a real fucking creep, you know that?" she yelled across the vast factory floor.

Every demonic worker along the assembly line froze. Dozens of yellow eyes turned to stare at her in stunned silence.

Lisa glanced nervously at the audience, swallowed hard, and gathered her heavy skirts. She sprinted after him, her bare feet padding against the cold marble.

Heavy hydraulic doors with the Monstrum logo carved on it hissed open into an underground dock. MasterGin was already seated inside a matte-black VIP hoverlimo, tapping his claws impatiently against the leather armrest.

"Seriously? I feel like I'm riding shotgun to Hell's Met Gala." She shook her head, though she had to admit the vampire had style.

Getting her enormous layered gown and its long train into the narrow door required brute force.

Thwack.

A thick wave of stiff crinoline and structured lace slapped MasterGin squarely across the face. The netting bounced off his cheek, completely collapsing his Marilyn hairstyle. 

He froze.

Closed his eyes.

Inhaled slowly.

Exhaled.

Then with deliberate composure, he extracted himself from the mountain of black lace and ribbon, smoothed his hair back into place, and rested his chin on his hand as if nothing had occurred.

Lisa stared at him, waiting for a reaction. She leaned closer, eyes gleaming, daring him to acknowledge the violation of his dignity.

His long claws clicked a rapid rhythm against the door. He kept his gaze locked on the dark tinted windows. Then, abruptly, his fist slammed down on the intercom button.

"Mirror, prepare the vat immediately."

"Understood, Master," a bright, synthetic British voice chirped through the speakers. "How much shall I prepare?"

"A face's worth."

"Very well. I shall have it warm and ready in fifteen minutes. Do hurry."

MasterGin leaned his head back, staring out the tinted armorglass into the subterranean transit tunnels as hoverlimo lifted, and shoot out of the dock with shocking speed.

Lisa looked too. Outside, disciplined rows of armored ghouls marched in tight, tactical formation in a huge cavern. A battalion?

"Are those for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony tomorrow?"

MasterGin turned back to her, offering a practiced, razor-thin smile. "High-profile security is mandatory, yes." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Forgive me, but no more questions for the moment. My mind is occupied, and I am exceptionally famished."

He really is almost charming when he isn't actively trying to murder someone.

Lisa grinned, thoroughly enjoying his irritation.

"As long as you attack that vat instead of my neck, we're good. It's blood wine, right? Some ultra-exclusive vampire vintage, am I right? MasterGin's gotta be stylish," she chuckled. "What I want to know is why you measure blood volume by body parts. What's the tea? Lisa’s gotta know."

He let out a low, musical laugh.

"Very well. Let's play a game. It is completely secure inside this transport, no surveillance cameras. But you only get three questions, and nothing more. I promise to answer truthfully. Choose wisely."

He held out his palm, expecting her halophone.

Give up her phone? Was he out of his freaking mind?

He gestured again, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Everything comes with a price, my dear."

She huffed, slapping the device hard into his palm. "I don't see you giving tours or expensive dresses to anyone else. Why me?"

"I like you." He placed the halophone on the velvet seat beside him, tapping it like a prized trinket. "You make me laugh."

"A bazillion-dollar dress because I make you laugh? Give me the real reason. You said you'd tell the truth."

MasterGin’s playful smile vanished. His posture shifted, becoming dead serious.

"You're a star. Or you would be if you had a face and body to match your charisma. I can help you with that." He flexed his long fingers like a plastic surgeon assessing a patient. "I have connections that could launch your career into global syndication overnight. You know it's true."

Lisa kept her face completely unreadable. "And? What's the catch?"

"And..." MasterGin leaned forward, his pale eyes catching the ambient cabin light. "I want you to serve as Master of Ceremonies for Jihoon's awakening tomorrow. I will spare no expense. Whatever production assets you require, you will have. We are en route to the Club Apophis now so you can scout the stage."

Lisa recoiled as if a snake had just bitten her. "What?"

"I am entirely serious. Think about the symmetry. I created Lathandro." He held up his hands, admiring his own fingers. "With these, I sculpted the masterpiece of Lathandro out of the rough, unpolished clay of Yoon Jihoon."

Lisa’s spine went rigid. She looked down at her hands. The shimmering blue film had completely absorbed into her skin. Her mind flashed back to the glowing blue cosmetic jar he had bragged about earlier, the compound he used to reshape his high-end clients.

"You were the one who made him a global sensation," MasterGin continued smoothly. "You discovered him. You moved millions in merchandise using his face and his name. You also broadcast his dramatic death live to the world. The hope of Jae Won University baseball spontaneously combusted live on TV. Afterward, you destroyed his legacy, peddling a brilliant narrative that he used illegal military grade biohacks to cheat his way through professional sports. Everyone bought it. I was thoroughly impressed by your narrative control. No one ever suspected the truth."

Lisa ground her molars together until her jaw throbbed. She hated that she had run those stories. She hated that he had blackmailed her into spinning those lies. That deep, burning rage was the exact reason she was sitting in this vehicle right now, searching for the single crack in his armor that would burn his empire to the ground.

"Tomorrow, you can resurrect this phoenix in the global media as the Chosen One rising from the ashes, witnessed by billions live on stream," MasterGin purred. "It is a spectacle only you can pull off, my dear. And if Jihoon wishes to retain you as his exclusive PR manager after he wakes, that will be his choice. Do we have an agreement?"

Lisa stared at him as if he had sprouted three snake heads.

"Consider this," MasterGin added, leaning closer. "Tomorrow, you could debut on the international stage with an exquisite new face, a sculpted body, hosting the most historic broadcast in human history: the birth of a god."

Lisa shot to her feet and smacked her head hard against the roof of the limo.

CRACK.

She collapsed into the leather seats in an undignified heap of ruffles, lace, and pain. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

A violent surge of nausea hit her throat.

"I'm gonna be sick..."

Before she could lean away, she vomited directly onto the front of the multi-million-dollar dress.

The wet splatter rang out in the quiet cabin, accompanied only by the soft hum of the anti-grav engines as they sped through the dark tunnels.

MasterGin didn't even flinch. He calmly pressed the intercom button. "Mirror, instruct the tailoring team to prepare a fourth ensemble."

“Shall I note a preference for stain-resistant fabric, Master?” the AI replied cheerfully.

Lisa wiped her mouth with the back of a red ruffle, her throat tight and burning. "And what happens if I say no?" she croaked.

MasterGin smiled, leaning back into his plush leather seat with absolute poise. "You won't say no. I've watched every archive stream recovered from your apartment. I know how your mind works. And I am genuinely looking forward to reviewing what you recorded on this trip as well." He picked up her halophone, casually twirling it between his long claws. "You noticed I personally restored and upgraded all your field gear. Did you never stop to ask yourself why?"

MasterGin held up three slender fingers, then slowly folded one down. “Consider yourself lucky. I’m lumping that exchange and barrage of clarifications under the umbrella of Question One. Two remain.”

Lisa stared at the floor of the limo, her chest heaving.

Shit.

She needed a strategy, and she needed it now.

Ask questions. Keep him talking. Find the flaw in his grand design.




On her, Lisa Liemawr:
Gown, Candelabra: Domus - Ravenmourne Dress, Ebody,  fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(1699L)
Corset: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA.Corset [mesh](Engine Room)(475L)
Tiara: VoluptasVirtualis - FOLIA Tiara [mesh](Engine Room)(150L)
Metal legs: Evil Baby - Valerie's Legs - Metals Pack [mesh](Engine Room)(499L)
Metal arms: Nefekalum - Graven - Gold/Gold // Tattoo [BOM](Engine Room)(199L)
Hair: CAMO - Nefera F-Locs [mesh](Engine Room)(699L)
Earrings: SIGMA - Escape earrings [mesh](Engine Room)(320L)
Chocker: Sublime - Willa Choker, Fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(500L)
Gloves: HEIKE - Disturbed Gloves (REBORN) [mesh]
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: REBORN by eBODY v2.0 [mesh]

On him, MasterGin:
Outfit: One Days - [mesh](Engine Room)(350L)
Mask: Pendulum - Raviel [mesh](Engine Room)(1250L)
Heels: Arltos Afterlife - Enid, black [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(450L)
Hair: Ginko Hair - #200 Hair - Unrigged [mesh]
Cigarette holder: GRAAL SMOKING SNAKE [mesh](349L)
Head: LeLUTKA - CAMDEN 4.0 [mesh]

Setting:
Setting: Oblivis - The Grand Stone Gate Mossystone [mesh](Engine Room)(450L)
Wall candle holder: Blue Blood - Cradle Wall Candle [mesh](Camp Syndicate)(199L)


BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shots,  midday sky, default camera:











Thursday, November 27, 2025

Salvage Station: The Pen (Escape from Club Apophis, 28)

(click to enlarge)


STORYLINE: Lisa Liemawr held her phone up like a holy relic in a cathedral of rust.

“Welcome back, Dragonlets!” Her voice hit that perfect, chirpy register, the one that usually sold energy drinks and scandal. “It’s your girl Lisa, coming to you with the exclusive from…”

She dropped her voice to a haunted stage-whisper.

“…The Forbidden Zone.”

She fluttered "spooky fingers" at the lens.

The bold and brash Hexa Herald reporter checked her reflection in the black screen before the recording started. It was a disaster. Her bangs clung to her forehead in greasy, tragic ropes. Her eyeliner was a smudge of war paint.

“No glamour filters today. #NoMakeupChallenge: Hellscape Edition,” she said, crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. "Today’s vlog is pre-recorded since Wi-Fi here is literally nonexistent, and my battery was raised from the dead via sketchy Monstrum Tech, thanks to our secret mole. #HumanSympathizer. Yay for having enough juice to record my last will and testament! Say hi to the fans, team!”

She whipped the phone around with influencer bravado.

The lens struggled to focus, grainy and grey. It swept across a row of rusted, modular housing units stacked like coffins under a flickering green sign: ATOMIC ESTATES.

Huddled in the long, jagged shadow of the structures were the captured students of Jae Won University. "The Avengers have assembled, folks." But they didn't look like heroes. They looked like refuse.

Ghost wasn’t looking at the camera. He was crouched against a corrugated wall, eyes scanning the laser perimeter like a caged wolf, his fingers tapping a silent, frantic rhythm against his thigh. Calculating.

“Check out the latest in post-apocalyptic streetwear,” Lisa narrated, zooming in on Kyra’s torn pants and the found scrap metal doubling as a prosthetic leg. “Derelicte. So hot right now.”

“Put the phone away, Lisa.”

Kyle Baek surged forward, his hand filling the frame. He didn't look like the sarcastic guard anymore; he looked haunted.

“We are in a concentration camp,” he growled, shoving the camera down. “People here look half-dead. Have some respect.”

Lisa gasped, pulling the phone back and feigning outrage. “It’s called a documentary, Kyle. If we die, I want my autopsy report to pull at least five hundred thousand views.” She turned the camera back on him, zooming in until his furious, dirt-streaked eyebrows filled the frame. “Tell us, Kyle, how does it feel knowing your little dare to Jihoon landed us in Monster Disneyland?”

Kyle flinched as if she’d slapped him. His eyes went wet, then hard. He didn't speak. He just smacked the phone out of her hand.

The camera spun wildly, ...sky, dirt, sky, capturing a blur of dense gray fog and the high-voltage shimmer of the fence. It landed with a thud, face-up.

Auto-focus adjusted. It locked onto what loomed above the camp.

Projected against the dark, smog-choked sky was a massive holographic poster. It showed Jihoon, no, Lathandro, clad in radiant white, luminous and holy, eyes downcast like a golden messiah forgiving their sins.

WELCOME HOME, LATHANDRO.

Lisa knelt to scoop up the phone, her hair brushing the lens. She paused, seeing the image on her screen. The bravado slipped, just for a second.

“That, my followers, is why we are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Nerdy nobody becomes Prince Charming of Monsters. Crazy, am I right?”

She aggressively wiped the lens on her sleeve. “Anyway, here’s the 411. We’re trapped in a radioactive 1950s sitcom running on sewer fumes and despair.”

She swung the camera toward Minjo. The robotics genius was sitting on a pile of scrap, grimly sharpening a stick against a rock.

“What do you think, Girl Genius? Are we glowing yet?”

Minjo stared at her as though Lisa were a misfiring toaster. “No. The radiation warnings are a deception to hide what's really powering The Zone.”

“Oooooh, conspiracy time. Whisper it to Lisa… and to my future Pulitzer committee.”

Minjo didn’t whisper. She lunged.

Thwack.

Her sharpened stick speared a mutant rat inches from Lisa’s boot. It screeched once, then went still. Minjo lifted the fresh kill by the tail, staring dead-eyed into the lens.

“I’m calling it the Entropy Engine,” Minjo said flatly.

“Right...” Lisa side-stepped her, as if Minjo was the first to go insane. “And speaking of despair...”

POOF.

Strawberry-scented smoke billowed around them, too sweet for the filth it drifted through.

“Whoa! Caught in 4K!” Lisa shouted, jumping back as Ghost instantly leveled his own sharpened stick at the pink haze.

The smoke cleared. Standing there, immaculate in a white suit that defied the grime of the camp, was Romance. He looked like he had just stepped off the stage at Inkigayo, smelling of crushed flowers and ozone.

“That, Dragonlets, is a bona fide Jeoseung Saja,” Lisa narrated, masking her relief. “Blink and you missed his career. Give it up for Saja Boy’s own DJ Romance!” She added fake cheering noises. “Tell us, how does a soul-sucking idol end up guarding Hell’s worst zip code?”

Romance covered the lens with a manicured hand. “Stop recording. You want to get us caught? The Children of Apophis have eyes everywhere.”

“No can do, my Maestro of Pink,” Lisa said, ducking under his arm with the agility of a paparazzo. “Lisa’s gotta scoop just as much as a fish’s gotta swim. If I don’t film, I get anxious. And when I get anxious, I cry. And when I cry, I get blotchy. Nobody wants that.”

He sighed. Then his gaze fell on Kyra.

“Kyra,” he said softly.

Lisa zoomed in tight.

The cheerleader was slumped against a crate. Her skin was a terrifying greyish-blue, and the neon veins in her neck flickered ominously. Her cybernetics whined with the brittle, dying-hard-drive sound of something begging for mercy.

“I’m... fine,” she wheezed. “Just... low power mode.”

“Liar,” Romance murmured.

He checked his surroundings, then reached into his pristine jacket. He pulled out a chip with the Monstrum logo on it. It buzzed with energy and smelled faintly of cotton candy.

He knelt, brushing a strand of dirty hair from her face. With the gentleness of a bomb disposal expert, he slotted the chip into the port behind her ear.

Kyra arched, light washing through her like a pink sunrise. Her optics flared, then stabilized. She gasped, color returning to her cheeks. “Better,” she breathed.

Romance smiled, that practiced, devastating idol smile that had once been plastered on bedroom walls.

Lisa whispered into the microphone. “#ForbiddenLove. One-hit wonder rocks the cradle with a cyborg. Leave your comments below.”

“I heard that,” Romance snapped, standing up. “She’s a college student. Shut your mouth.”

In the background, Ghost watched them, face emotionless. But the camera caught it: the precise moment his hand snaked out. While Romance was distracted defending Kyra’s honor, Ghost pickpocket the Idol and slid the ill-gotten gains into his wrist-mount with a surgeon’s stealth. His Halo-gloves, dead since the boundary, flickered. A tiny, pale blue light pulsed once.

Access.

Ghost hid his hands instantly. But he stiffened.

High above, on a rusting catwalk, a familiar figure stirred, black robes, amber eyes.

Hwan.

Ghost went statue still.

He locked eyes with the Guardian. Hwan had seen the theft. He had seen everything.

Romance was still fussing over Kyra, oblivious. Hwan could have shouted. He could have alerted the Nuns from hell.

Instead, the figure in the tower slowly turned his back.

Permission.

Ghost let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Suddenly, a loudspeaker crackled. A cheerful, tinny jingle played, a distorted, minor-key version of Mr. Sandman played on a broken xylophone.

“Attention, Happy Residents! It is time for the Gratitude Feast! Please proceed to the trough for your daily calorie intake!”

“The trough. Great.” Lisa gagged. “Okay, Pinkie. What’s going on?”

“It’s a mandatory celebration,” Romance said grimly, looking up at the glowing poster of Lathandro. “Master Gin is happy his ‘son’ has returned. So everyone must celebrate too.”

“…Right.” Lisa clicked her tongue, forcing the smile back on. She slapped Plague on the back; he jumped a foot in the air. “Let’s go review the catering, Nerd Snack.”

Lisa followed the shuffling crowd to the center of the plaza. The "Feeder," a man with a scarred face and a butcher’s apron, was happily ladling grey sludge into cupped hands, humming a nursery rhyme.

“Look at them,” Plague whispered, nudging Lisa. “They’re eating it like it’s five-star dining.”

He was right. The residents were shoving the flavorless paste into their mouths with frantic, mindless hunger.

“Okay, Dragonlets. Today on ‘Dystopian Eats,’ we have...” She zoomed in on the grey, bubbling sludge being ladled out of a rusted oil drum. “...Protein paste? Porridge? It smells like wet dog and pennies.”

“Okay," Lisa whispered. "Taste test.”

She took a tiny, tentative sip of the grey soup.

“Oh god.” She coughed, squeezing her eyes shut. “It tastes like sadness. Zero stars. Would not recommend.”

She lowered the cup, wiping her mouth. As she did, the camera panned across the crowd, capturing something off.

She zoomed in on a man’s neck as he swallowed.

“Whoa,” she mumbled.

Glowing softly under the grime of his skin were rune tattoos. They pulsed in time with his heartbeat. *Thump-glow. Thump-glow.*

“Marked,” Plague whispered, shivering. “Like inventory. All of them have it.”

Lisa wandered away from the trough, looking for better content—anything to distract from the glowing necks. She found Echo near the drainage outflow, kneeling in the mud.

“Echo?” Lisa gasped, zooming in. “Doing some spring cleaning?”

The camera panned across a neatly hanging row of used tin cans and rocks arranged in a pleasing geometric shape. A garden of garbage.

But Echo was acting strange. Regressed. She was digging in the mud with frantic, childlike intensity.

“What did you get there? A hidden gem? The key to getting out?”

Echo froze. Slowly, she lifted something from the mud.

A teddy bear. Or, it used to be. It was soiled with clay, missing one eye, its fur matted. Next to it lay a small red ball, deflated with age.

Lisa felt the air leave her lungs. The snark died in her throat.

“Lisa?” Echo asked, holding the bear out gently. Her voice was small. “I think... I think I can fix him. I can replace the missing eye with my shirt button...”

“Stop,” Lisa whispered. Then, louder. “Stop right now.”

She stared at the bear. Then she looked toward the edge of the camp, where the drainage pipe poured dark, oily water into the fog. A river that flowed *out* from the city.

“Echo,” Lisa said, her voice shaking violently. “I need you to do me a favor. Find me a bottle. A plastic bottle. Airtight.”

Echo handed the dirty bear to Lisa and darted off.

Lisa held the bear up to the camera. Her hands were trembling.

She stared at the lens. The mask was gone. The influencer was gone. There was only a terrified girl holding a piece of evidence.

“I had one of these,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Back when I thought monsters weren’t real.”

She zoomed in on the missing eye.

“Okay, folks... Time to get real.”

Tears welled in her eyes, hot and angry. She didn't wipe them away.

“This belongs to a child. A child who probably chased that red ball across the barrier. A kid who never came home.”

“Lisa, please,” Plague appeared at her side, looking terrified. “Keep your voice down. Let’s not draw attention—”

She tore her arm away. “Keep it down? “You think I’m being too loud?” She slammed the ball into his chest. “Tell that to the parents still stapling ‘Missing’ posters to rain-warped bulletin boards. Tell them their babies aren’t lost! They’re here! They’re livestock!”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve—a messy, unglamorous motion

“I will not rest until the world knows about this disgusting place. #ParentsDeserveToKnow.”

She shoved the phone into Plague’s hands.

“Film every face you can find in this cursed place,” she commanded.

Suddenly, a low, heavy thrumming sound echoed from the main gates. The ground vibrated.

The eating stopped. The residents froze, eyes wide with a conditioned terror.

The rusted gates groaned open.

Through the fog rolled a procession of vehicles that belonged in a museum or a nightmare. Vintage Rolls Royces drifted through the fog like funeral carriages.

Figures stepped out — gowns shimmering like spilled oil, jewels blinking like predator eyes.
They crossed the filth with the bored amusement of aristocrats at a petting zoo.

Lisa stared, horrified. “What... what is happening?”

Romance stepped up beside her, his face grim.

“The Gratitude Feast,” he whispered, watching the elites take their seats around the stage. “The humans eat first to look plump for the buyers. And now...”

He gestured to the vampires raising their auction paddles.

“...Now the real feast begins.”



Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you all enjoy this ambitious post, (7 characters all in one post. The "7 Dwarfs" together at last). There are lots of sweet post apocalyptic goodies from Salvage Station in this. (And if you look hard, you might even spot Jihoon "Snow White" making a cameo.)  Gobble Gobble


On her, front row left to right, Lisa Liemawr (Happy):
Outfit: FenDuDu - Wasteland Verdict, fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(3688L)
Hair: CAMO - Nyx Braids  [mesh](Salvage Station)(699L)
Head, eyes, skin: LOGO - Dawn Desert Nomad [mesh]
Body: Meshbody - Legacy (f) Special Edition (Basic) 1.2 [mesh]
Group Pose: 10sai - Group Pose Stand #WEFIE

On her, Kyra (Sleepy):
Guest Appearance: Aarya Phantomhive, of the Dark Phantom blog.
Pants: AsteroidBox - Deteriorate Pants [mesh](Salvage Station)(289L)
Jacket: CHANDRA - Hyperion Jacket Reborn FATPACK [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Jaw: Evil Baby - Jaws - Accessory [mesh](Salvage Station)(349L)
Makeup: eyecing - Ieku - eyes - liner [mesh](Salvage Station)(30L)
Tattoo: Nefekalum - Salvaged Armor - Polished 02 // Full Tattoo [mesh](Salvage Station)(199L)
Tattoo: SOMEONE - Infected Wounds - Face, Body, Eye [mesh](Salvage Station)(550L)
Tattoo: Fallen Gods - Skychylde, female body +FGInc.+ Canary PG [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Makeup: Stelio - Grungy Eyepaint - Black (EvoX) [mesh](Salvage Station)(gift)
Collar: Cruel - Sulfur Gorget - Legacy F
Hair: A&Y - Medusa Cyber hair 2, multicolor [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA - lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya - Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)

On her, Echo (Dopey):
Helmet: Waffle Science & Research - [W] Civil Defender [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Outfit: The Muses - Triste Bouffon - Ivory [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: Sintiklia - Lillith head 1 Fitted, colors ombres [mesh]

On her, front, Minjo (Doc):
Outfit: BEARCAT.EGG - Mira Top, Skirt, Legacy [mesh](Salvage Station)(500L)
Pet: AxisMundi - Bittersync-(B)ox-Hand L [animesh](Salvage Station)(800L)
Goggles: MILKBATH - Axel Goggles - Unrigged [mesh](Salvage Station)(399L)
Hair: NI.JU Tomtom Hair, naturals [mesh]

On him, back row left to right, Ghost (Bashful):
Scanner: Starlit Endeavor - Nomada Scanner, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(300L)
Cowl: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Coat: SOMNIUM - Outlander [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Mask: Pucca Firecaster Creations - PFC Ninja (Male) [mesh]
Headband: Last Ride - 47 Samurai/Headband back [mesh]
Pants: REBIS - Werk Trousers [mesh](350L)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, back middle, Plague (Sneezy):
Helmet: Apika - Femm of War - Helmet [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Shoes: CULT - Wasteland - Legacy M [mesh](Salvage Station)(369L)
Outfit: toksik - Invasion Top (Legacy M) (Black)
Cape: toksik - Invasion Cape M (Unrigged)
Gloves: Archivefaction - Penumbra Gloves_Legacy M_Slim Fingers [mesh]
Scar: Cubic Cherry - Decay [BOM, Materials]
Makeup: maledictus - Lacrimosa, red [BOM]
Hair: Dura U122 -A: Men's [mesh]
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)

On him, Kyle (Grumpy):
Outfit: ONEDAYs - CLOUD OUTFIT - LEGACY [mesh](Salvage Station)(350L)
Tattoo: AURO - The Prophet : White // 25 // EVOX  [mesh](Salvage Station)(450L)
Necklace: HAUNT - Choke Chain [mesh](Salvage Station)(299L)
Sleeves: REBIS - Junkyard Sleeves . LegacyM, yellow [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Hair: TRASH - Lucifer w/o Horns V1 - Rainbow pack [mesh]
Eyes: Mana - Jelly Eyes, Clear [BOM] (Midnight Order)(399L)
Skin: MUDSKIN Hajimu, C, Brow, WINTER(gacha)(The Arcade)(75L)
Glasses: SOLE SA, Glasses Penta CP, Black [mesh](339L)
Head: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops - [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)


Setting:
Neighborhood: LORE Atomic Estates Fatpack [mesh](Salvage Station)(1200L)
Bench: Dirty Rat - Derelict Bench [mesh](Salvage Station)(415L)
Cart: Dirty Rat - Derelict Cart [mesh](Salvage Station)(375L)
Billboard: Dirty Rat - Vintage Billboard w/o probe [mesh]
Bathroom: Eclectica - Wasteland Bathroom Set  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Broken Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Picture frames: NI.JU - Old N' Worn Frame Set [mesh](Salvage Station)(250L)
Alarm Stystem: Puddles - Tin Can Trap, Soft linked [mesh](Salvage Station)(200L)
Jeweler's work area: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler  [mesh](Salvage Station)(395L)
Desk: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Desks [mesh](Salvage Station)(275L)
Toolboxes: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Toolboxes [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Necklace display: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Necklaces [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Welders: Random Matter - Junk Jeweler - Hand Welders [mesh](Salvage Station)(160L)
Lamp: Duplexity - Nuk-a-Lamp (Ceiling) [mesh](Salvage Station)(249L)
Dunes: Fundati - Beach Cliffs C1 [mesh]

BONUS IMAGES: character shots, inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.  








Thursday, February 20, 2025

Midnight Order: Diva Hyrda of J-Rock band ONI

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: As the world celebrates the Month of Love, we at Midnight Magazine thought it fitting to uncover the intriguing story behind one of rock music's most charismatic lead singers, -- Diva Hydra, of the acclaimed J-rock band ONI. 

My adventure into surreal starts backstage during soundcheck to that evening's sold out Arena concert. The atmosphere is electric. As I observe silently from the sidelines, it occurs to me that Diva is the center of gravity with all else orbiting around him. Every gaze is drawn him, and everyone seems to be waiting for their turn to bask in his glow, like planets to his sun. 

I am amazed to witness the "Diva Effect" in person. A woman passes by and her hand lingers on his shoulder for a moment too long. Then a Personal Assistant leans in close, whispering to him in hushed tones like a lover. And when I think the scene can't get more bizarre, an agitated young man storms in and slaps Diva hard across the face right in front of me!

Judging from all these subtle hints, I wonder if I was the only one present who hadn’t slept with Diva. I better be careful to not become his next conquest. 

Clearing my throat to regain focus, I was impressed by Diva's ability to handle the touchy situation. The angry lad was now completely pacified, and Diva turned to me with a wink, as if this kind of thing was just a normal part of his day. "Apologies for that little disturbance," he says, offering me a charming smile. "Shall we start the interview?"

I nod, a hint of eagerness in my eyes. "Will you sign this for me?" I hand him my favorite Diva Hydra picture.

Diva obliges, but his head snaps up from the picture as I blurt out, "Your real name is Steve, isn't it?" 

The room falls silent for a moment. Then he breaks the tension with a slight chuckle, “That’s all you got?” He passes the autograph back to me. “I thought you were a School of Journalism type of girl.” 

"Challenge accepted," I smile back playfully. Then with a theatrical flourish, I hit record on my cellphone and, slam a photo onto the table from a high school yearbook. "Poor Steve," I feign sympathy. "He wasn't exactly the ladies' man. More like an awkward nerd, albeit one blessed with the 'voice of an angel' if you believe his classmates'. I wonder whatever happened to that sweet innocent boy...."

Diva's gaze drifts towards a girl passing by in a red dress. "You're wasting my time," he says, his patience clearly starting to wear thin.

I lean forward, sensing an opportunity. "Rumor has it 'Steve' had dreams of making it big in the music world. And, according to the rumors, he signed a contract with ONI when the previous lead singer met an unexpected demise." I pause for dramatic effect before continuing, "And speaking of contracts, I just happen to have a copy of this unusual one right here." I slide the document forward, watching Diva's reaction intently.

I can practically see the confidence draining from his face as he snatches the paper. For what feels like an eternity, his eyes dart back and forth, scanning every word meticulously. 

Savoring the moment, I lean back, “If I didn’t know any better, Diva, I would think this is the first time you’ve ever actually read it.” My grin grows larger like the cat who caught a mouse. "I find the fine print especially interesting."

Despite my momentary advantage, Diva swiftly regains composure, effortlessly slipping back into his charming persona. He slouches back, clad in black latex that emits a slight squeak as he casually crosses his long legs. "It's just an entertaining fabrication," he assures me. "Our manager has done a splendid job of keeping the fans hyped with these rumors. People love the fantasy that ONI is not just a band, but possessed by real life monsters embodying each of the seven deadly sins. Raven, for instance, is Greed...." 

With a knowing nod, I respond, "And Diva is Lust.” I gesture to the signatures on the contract and the photo he just signed for me. "There's an interesting resemblance between Steve's signature and your handwriting, wouldn't you agree?

Diva burst out laughing. It's impossible not to be affected. It's infectious nature makes it hard to resist joining in. He really was stunningly beautiful.

“No more questions for today," his eyes glint with mischief, "...but” he reaches into his pocket and tosses to me a hotel room card key. “We can pick up this conversation after the show tonight.”


On him, Diva Hydra:
Mask: CRYPTID Dokkaebi Mask [mesh](Midnight Order)(240L)
Kimono: NAMINKOKE !H! Bento Uchikake Gashadokuro Male [mesh](Midnight Order)(480L)
Top: [Gild] Hades tank legacy, basic tiger [mesh](Midnight Order)(250L)
Hair: CAMO Venus F-Locs, fatpack [mesh](Midnight Order)(599L)
Eyes: TEETH [T] Mythic Eyes, Pink [BOM][mesh](Midnight Order)(350L)
Parasol: Soapberry SB. Jing Silk Parasol [Animesh](Midnight Order)(500L)
Belly Piercing: Aii & Ego BlackMage, Athletic, Full Outfit [mesh](Midnight Order)(2,500L)
Hands: Dreadmorne [DM] // Phantom Arm [mesh](750L)
Facestrap: TERIYAKI _TRK_ Kankuro Mask [mesh](90L weekend sale)
Face Piercings: CerberusXing Chained Bridge - Silver [mesh](300L)
Earrings: Badwolf Batwings Earrings, male Evo [mesh](270L)
Pants: toksik Leather Leggings, Black [BOM]
Head, piercings: LeLUTKA Kane Evolution [mesh](3990L)
Body: TheShops [BODY] Athletic Meshbody (Legacy)(m) (1.7.1) [mesh](5000L)
Microphone: HIDEKI Old Vintage Mic [mesh]
Truss and speakers: [MMc] Club Stage & Dance Floor [mesh]
Pose: Del May DM Need Socks

BONUS IMAGE: inworld raw shot, midday sky





Thursday, April 20, 2023

Engine Room : The Celestial Mafia, part 4

(click to enlarge)

STORYLINE: Just as J and Guryong rounded the corner, they saw a woman racing towards them with dark tear stained cheeks. "Run! The Gears have gone haywire!" Behind her was a horde of Automatons and a rampaging Quad car smashing them under foot. They were chasing her. What in the Cogs was going on? Had all the machines of New London gone mad?

Sadly, there were so many more images I wanted to do for this series, but it comes down to what you can get done in time. This image was inspired by all the items I used from the Engine Room. I just loved the Camo Jules Dreads and wanted to build a character on that, and thus Olivia, one of two survivors of New London, was born. She is wearing the Steam Eques outfit and boots by Silvery K, the pink is a texture option in the fatpack. The robot smashing attack comes from the wonderfully wacky AG Quad Walker car. (It just looks like it wants to smash things!) It is a wearable vehicle with wonderful animations for the car and rider, and you can customize its colors. And the poor Somnium Automation androids got underfoot. (To read about the other survivor of New London and the continuing story, go to Aarya Phantomhive's Dark Phantom blog.)

On her, Olivia, survivor of New London:
Outfit, boots: Silvery K Steam Eques, fatpack [mesh](Engine Room)(680L)
Hair: Camo Jules Dreads [mesh](Engine Room)(599L)
Eyepatch: Insomnia Angel Honoria mono-goggles [mesh](320L)
Collar: Artificial Hallucination  +AH+ Belt Collar male rig [mesh](249L)
Pose: FlashPhotography Terror Bento Pose pack (175L)

Setting: 
Robots: SOMNIUM AUTOMATON - Forgotten [mesh](Engine Room)(899L)
Car: Arts&Gear AG Quad Walker Type A [mesh](Engine Room)(1500L)
Set: VARONIS Dayport Backdrop Scene [mesh](499L)