DustJacket

Completely removed from the atmosphere that surrounded him, Ink Drop fell to a deep state of mind and brain recovery, causing him to have a dream; one particular dream. As he entered slowly to his subconscious, he repeated the past, all that had happened recently, and yet somehow... his dream aimed towards one event. Canterlot... his childhood home, where he lived with his single caring mother and the resting place of his father long ago before this outbreak. In his dream, the point of interest was his mother... a spirited mare and somewhere in her forties. Broken-white coat, buns hairstyle styled her mane, lively hazel eyes, and a luminous vivid cerulean complemented with several hair threads of pale cerulean highlight[1]. All of that occurrence inside his mind caused him to immediately snapped back into reality, while his brain wasn't fully recovered from the concussion yet. "Mother?!" he spake ; awakened and arose from the place where he was lying down, the blanket slowly peeled over from his chest because of the gravity effect and vertical position, and afterwards, he shed one drop of tear. He closed his eyes shut, rubbed his head covered with bandage, in pain and confusion. As soon as his body stabilized to the pain -- getting numbed -- he realized the group of ponies around him. [1] Since Ink Drop's hair color and coat color is a very dark gray cobalt almost leading to black, majority inhereted characteristic genes are from his dad

Party cannon backfire

Desperate to stay awake, Ink Drop was suffering from a minor head trauma and with a light intracranial hemorrhage. Not fatal but it would cause him to lose some of his ability that requires the use of the brain such as focusing and concentrating. The first symptoms were setting in, he was losing consciousness, concentration; he could barely keep his eyes opened and in addition, a ringing in his ears, making any audible sound around him nothing more but muffled nonsense. After the mare provided medical attention, Ink Drop still had a handful of consciousness to stay awake and warned them of their yacht's engine state, luckily he could still speak clear enough but in an incomplete sentence, "Jerrycan..." he raised up his right front hoof and gasping for air, struggling to keep his brain active, he pointed at the jerrycan that he brought with him, "engine... too old... fuel gauge... check them... refill..." he said slowly getting quiet and calmer, slipping away to the state of complete unconscious.

((speedboats travel a lot faster than the yacht, and my OC use his hunch)) "No, no, no, stop! Stop the boat..." Ink Drop had almost forgotten that if the yacht stopped, there would be a probable chance that the yacht wouldn't start again despite the old engines that he has inspected from all of the boats back at the docks. He had only a brief moment to take action, either take all of the four jerrycans filled with fuel with him or take only one plus a small amount of food supply so he could leap over to the yacht from the moving speedboat. Risky as it was, he just went for it, forcing to leave the other three jerrycans of fuel and taking only one. Ink Drop took a leap of faith, but a misplaced footing he has made during take off caused him to slam his head against the broadside of the yacht rendering him almost unconscious and barely able to hold on. One hand holding on to the railing of the yacht and the other one holding the jerrycan; eyesight was blurry but he could still see clear enough that the speedboat had tumbled on top of the water chaotically and flung upwards. His hearing was muffled, thus he could not hear what the mare said, yet he could see that she had stretched out her hoof; lending aid for him.

Traveling in fifty miles per hour, the bilge of his speed boat sliced the surface of the sea water. He raised up a pair of binoculars and leveled it against his eye level; enabling him to look through while maintaining a tight grip over the steering wheel. Tilting his head and eyes, trying to find the yacht that the survivors took. Then, like a sight for sore eyes, he finally found them. Excited that he managed to find them after a while long, he could almost jump, "Alright, stay there, I'm coming..." he said as he lowered down the binoculars and put it on top of the deck. Maneuvering to the side of the yacht, he tried to maintain a constant distance and speed to align his boat with the yacht. Fortunately for him, the yacht speed[1] wasn't very fast hence this eased him on aligning the boat. Ink Drop yelled to the survivors, "Hey! Hey, guys! Over here!", yet he was only wasting his breath as the speech sound from his voice was disrupted by the water splashing and crashing with each other. [1] I've been doing some searching and found out from one source that an average yacht travels for 6 knots or 6.9 mph (1.15 * 6)

((Just had a nightmare, not zombies -- I feel like my OC in this RP)) Somewhere in Baltimare, up in the hills with fertile soil where plant life could still grow. Ink Drop has just finished up burying the survivor's dead body, given that he had already stripped the brain of it's ability to reanimate; drenched in blood and sweat... he did not washed them off, instead using it as a disguise; making him virtually dead to the trotters as he navigated his way back to the docks. There, he got his eyes on several dead bandit that had become trotters themselves. But that did not worry him, the only thing that picked up his eyes were the two bolts sticking out of two dead bandits' cranium. Re-obtaining it quickly and doing it as subtle as he could, he walked with a slight of velocity increase towards a dry dock -- but it wouldn't be so dry as water has filled it up -- there he had been preparing to leave the dead town of Baltimare. That's why he ran in to the survivors fighting their way to one of the boats dock there[1]. One boat, covered with a spread of gray sheet, Ink Drop uncovered it revealing the supplies which were an hoard of food and water along with a makeshift evaporation system[2]. Ink Drop hopped inside carefully, not going for the ignition button nor the ropes acting as an anchor, however, he went for the radio[3]which he has been tinkering for sometime. Luckily, it worked and used it immediately to make a repetitive voice message, "Baltimare is dead, there's no sanctuary, go far south or east as you can. There's nothing left here." he said in a quite dried tone and hoarse voice. Ink Drop set the message on a loop and on an open channel, so that anypony that might come to the city would get their first warning. Finally, he flicked the switch of the ignition button and untied the knot of the rope security the marine vehicle. With the gate of the dock already opened, this saved him his strength. Without hesitation, he left the dead town. Destination, still unknown, simply 'get out of there quickly'. Ink Drop realized something after he gained a few meters away from the docks, "Sure hope they don't run out of fuel." he said to himself, and given that he had an additional fuel reserve, he had to hurry to catch up with them. [1] His first intention before meeting you guys [2] Enables him to draw the evaporated sea water to drinkable water by using the vapors itself [3] MacGuyver thing * could I do a story like this, which tells a different set of event occurring in some place.

I wonder who this toy belongs too, it has been following twice this day...

((In some cases only by applying the laws of physics, he's actually a writer, just read his background here Ink Drop) Since there was no way in handling all six trotters in a such tight quarters; not even laws of physics could help bail him out this time. And so, his final decision was to run, flee the scene, however, he needed to keep in mind that he couldn't lead the trotters back to the main designated conflict zone which was mainly where the survivors were. Stuck, unable to maneuver freely without risking his own life, he came to a hard time thinking of a way out while he slowly backed away from the advancing trotters which were eight feet away from him -- trying to anticipate any sudden move and try not to provoke a high speed engagement. "Alright, think,think, think... be authentic, be realistic, what would your character do?" he muttered between his teeth, until suddenly his eyes panned to a stack of boxes and a gate that both of them were just lying there the whole time. "Oh! How could I be so stupid!" from muttering, he quickly raised the volume of his voice speaking out out loud, while his eyes rolled from corner to corner of both of his eyes, "dumpster... then, up, straight, down, dash quickly, right... YES!!!" and finally in the end of his sentence he gave a rather booming shout. And just like he said, he ran up towards the dumpster and automatically provoked the trotters to run up to him causing them to pick up speed hence gaining an excessive few feet away from his direction[1] then he went up to the dumpster, rushed along the dumpster's surface, hopped down dashed through and in purpose as he dashed, he knocked the stack of boxes making a obstruction to the path then quickly closed the gate. Seeing that the survivors had already set sail, he felt a little calm inside of him; an achievement, that he had succeeded in helping them escape. Then he said to himself, "Like all stories, the characters' path will someday crossed with each other again." He noticed that the lifeless body of one of the survivors was lying on the paved road, he felt a bit of a sympathy and he decided to give him a proper burial. He put the pony's dead body on his back and continued went south west where the area was much saver and make a burial there. ((Okay, this was too long)) [1] Vector motion principle and Isacc Newton's second law

You're punching a civilian pony, sir... *thinks for a moment* "have I payed for my tickets...? Oh, yes I did"

Last flight of stairs and one ladder leading down to the paved concrete ground. But he did not jump, although that there was a dumpster right beside the fire-escape, since he had his own guide on helping him to survive at any moment and that was, 'don't risk it...' or 'go with it' -- in some cases. Those two simple three word sentences -- actually there are more -- and so, doing it by his rules, he safely reached the ground safely and just in time to react to the first 'trotter' as it engaged him into a close quarters battle. Ink Drop used one of the three concrete piece and jammed it easily to the first trotter's head; right through the white-out eyeball, rendering it to explode, squirting out clear bodily liquid and slowly mixed with the blood that was beginning to flow out of the open wound. He actually killed the brain thus permanently killed the trotter. Two concrete slat pieces left, and six more trotters.

Two buck and thirty three hundred Newtons of shear amount of force generated from his hind hooves and legs' muscle, enough to gain the attention of a small group of 'trotters' and luckily not enough to pick up the attention of any 'trotters' for more than six meters away giving the survivors some room to breathe and Ink Drop himself not too many 'trotters' to handle. Unfortunately, the bandits were still in pursuit and armed with their makeshift explosive armaments, which had a quite devastating rate of destruction. Ink Drop, began picking up three shattered concrete pieces that had edges that were sharp enough and volume large enough to break the cranium and through the reanimated brain. After a brief preparation for battle was made, instead of using the stairs leading inside the building, he used the fire escape on the side of the building that led him to an alley, thus disappearing from the eyesight of the survivors for a short time.

"One, c'mon turn around... I'm here, leave them alone." Ink Drop whispered yet again to himself as he loaded another bolt to his primitive compac weaponry; looked through his makeshift prismatic crystal scope, took aim... then he released another shot. He had killed two -- he was no marksman though, keep in mind of that, but when it comes to helping somepony in trouble, he gave all his might[1]. And he successfully made the group of bandit raiders aware of his presences, but they did not know where he was. Two shots were used only three were left within his disposal. Rather than wasting his remaining pristine harpoons, he used this risky tactic to steer away either the bandits or the last remaining 'trotters'. Saying nothing more, he put his bolt gun's back to his satchel and bucked the nearest metal barrel -- which probably had been used for maintaining a fire place. His action made the barrel to produce a chaotic D note sound mixed with vibration which traveled through the air successfully gaining the attention of several 'trotters' and driven them to search for the source. [1] Also known as an adrenaline rush or for someone else, a 'Sudden Superhuman Strength during a crisis'

((Okay... Here I go, hope you guys don't mind, if it's bad then tell me to delete it)) As the gang of survivors were being tumbled within their boat; surrounded by bandits and trotters. Ink Drop watched from afar, on top of a building that was present in the vicinity. At first Ink Drop whispered to himself, "Don't risk it..." [1] he repeated a few time more and each time, the volume of his voice lowered down, but as he couldn't ignore anypony needing help -- even thought that he isn't asked for help -- he just couldn't say no and then walks away. "Oh screw this!" he yelled in annoyance of his decisions making then pulled out his custom-made compact bolt gun[2] from his satchel. As he counted briefly inside his mind, he aimed the tip upwards for approximately fifty three point three degrees, what was required next was that will to pull the trigger and hoped that his calculations were precise and that he won't hit one of the survivors. Click, the sound of the trigger being pressed was made and one designated metallic bolt launched up in the air in a hundred meters per second, and hit one of the bandits; piercing through that scalp, penetrated the cranium and went directly to the cerebellum, hence ending the life of the bandit. [1] Inspired from the Book of Eli [2] I was thinking of a crossbow but it would make my OC like Daryl * Added a bit of parabolic motion in physics, just to build up my OC personality

Did you get the Power Bash perk from the Block tree?

I SHALL NEVER SURRENDER!!!

There's no need to apologize, I have expected stuff like that when it comes to art update -- I've done that myself, honestly... -- And thank you for the complement. Btw, there will be more I've been working on something ambitious lately so there would be a possibility where I couldn't update or post more but I'll try to post regularly given if I have the time. Another art anyone? Jedi Ink Drop -- played SWTOR too much, but not anymore -- and yes, it's my avatar pic/profile pic somewhat a sad face because of a tragic past (background past taken from my Jedi at SWTOR)

Yeah, I've already mentioned it at the very first post before the picture, that I am using Adobe Illustrator so yeah I did them all in my computer

Well, yes it is true that I use the characters design but since there are two background stallion that have the same mane style or perhaps even more, I thought, why bother making a new mane style... and I really prefer spiky like that. Vector art is actually very simple, just don't think about it too deeply -- that's what I did and it caused me to become slow in practicing my skill in vectoring for the first time. Above this, my arts, those are just simple vectoring different from those shaded style vectors. Bottom line is, vector is a digital art that uses geometrical primitives. And using Illustrator, you will tend to rely on the pen tool than anything else since it is more versatile than other tools. And the duration for each art if I averaged them; 7-14 hours. Longest art development are the one with the lantern, the dress, and the one that is holding the mirror Shortest art development are the first OC design, the R63 OC, the Amnesia logo crossover, the suited one, Derpy and the Giant Muffin, both Carousel Boutique logo and the mock-up. altogether.

Actually the size of those files doesn't exceed 1 MB (except Derpy and The Giant Muffin), only the count of 700-900 KB I think - it's simply because of that I saved the file in the form of PNG vector. And everyone could draw, just need to sharpen up that skill or dig it up first then sharpen it up

Now now, it's not just me... there's a lot of people out there other than me that are better than me. Honestly, I'm still new to this digital art stuff. By the way, another update. I don't know why, but, each time I see a logo that is not official/used in real life -- just for fun -- I have this urge to remake it my own way with my new style. Usually, it's actually a lot simpler than before. Logo only; applied gradient for that "UV print" effect Mock-up; downloaded the bag from stockphoto, simply used the logo PNG file and then import it to Adobe Ps, then used the distort option.