Published Dec 14th, 2012, 12/14/12 5:50 pm
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The slightly plump, and balding, archeologist pulled the stiff bristle brush from his well worn pack and began flicking the loose sand from the top of a partially buried ruin. He had carefully inked in the coordinates of this unmarked mound on his papyrus map during an earlier reconnaissance trip through the desert. He had kept the potential find a secret from his colleagues at the Institute of Antiquities because he was hoping to make a name for himself. He had been cheated out of the credit for a previous discovery of an ancient pigmen settlement by the senior researchers at the institute who had presented his work at the annual archeology conference. This time, he wanted his name to go down in the history he was helping to unveil.
Since his initial visit, the ever-shifting sands of the desert had partially exposed what appeared to be a series of blocks fashioned from dark, volcanic glass. He now realized that this project would require more than a small brush. He turned from his work and trudged over to the malodorous, and truculent, camel he had tethered to the only vegetation native to the desert, a rather thorny cactus. He unloaded the camel and spread his tools upon the ground. He unwrapped a well used iron shovel, and took a swig of warm, metallic tasting water from his canteen before starting to excavate in earnest. He took frequent breaks as the sun beat down with the intensity of a blast furnace and created heat waves that shimmered and danced across the dunes. Twice, he had to stop and engage in brief skirmishes with the giant arachnids that hid just below the surface of the sand waiting to spring on unsuspecting animals that wandered by. While the engagements were a little dangerous, the protein he gained from devouring his vanquished foes, augmented his dwindling rations. Lack of food, and dehydration, had claimed the lives of numerous explorers in this remote region. He was too close to attaining his life's ambition to go out that way.
After the sun went down, the air became noticeably cooler. The brightest stars began to appear in the velvety darkness overhead and a full moon began to rise. Pausing to stretch, the archeologist looked toward the heavens and reflected on his youthful choice to study past civilizations instead of civilizations that might exist on the moon or even among the stars. If there had been a way to travel to those places he might have made a different career choice and made a name for himself years ago.
Putting his fanciful ruminations aside, the archeologist returned to the task at hand. It was getting too dark to see clearly, so he a gathered a small pile of the dried brush that dotted the landscape. He pulled the flint and steel he had inherited from his father from his pack. It took a few attempts, but he was finally able to strike a spark that caused the brush to catch fire. Sitting down on a convenient slab of exposed sandstone, he pulled a briar pipe from his front pocket and used the flint and steel to light his tobacco. Setting them to one side, he rummaged around in his pack and located his sketchbook and pen. Puffing contentedly on his pipe, he started sketching each of the blocks he had uncovered in his journal. He observed that the blocks were almost all identical with the exception of some peculiar scorch marks. His pulse began to race as he came to the conclusion that the scorch marks could be used to puzzle out how the blocks were originally arranged. His growing excitement overcame his fatigue and he began to assemble a primitive, post and lintel type structure. Lifting and positioning the heavy blocks was hard work and he began to wish he had trained a young assistant to both help him and dote on his brilliance. Even without help, he was soon down to a single block. Grunting with the exertion, he hefted the block, and slid it home with a harsh, grating sound. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and came to the sudden realization that what once had held the potential to be his defining moment was nothing more than a doorless, doorframe. If he presented this to his peers, he would be the laughingstock of the Institute of Antiquities. His earlier jubilation turned to sour remorse. In a fit of disgust, he tossed his journal aside, dropped to his knees, and began to bang his fists on the ground in frustration.
It was then that things began to go horribly awry. It could have been the heat from the flames, the smell of tobacco smoke, the sound of the last block grinding into place, the cast off journal skittering across the sand, or even the vibrations that originated from the archeologist pounding his fists on the ground that roused the arachnid lurking in the sand behind the archeologist. As the spider pounced, the archeologist drew his short blade and locked in mortal combat with the fanged menace. The two rolled about in a desperate battle. By chance, one of them knocked the forgotten flint and steel against the block structure. The ensuing spark caused the whole structure to spontaneously ignite in a violet flash. Luckily for the archeologist, the spider caught fire and he was able to quickly dispatch it by pinning it to the sandstone outcropping with his blade. Panting from his exertions with the spider, he turned to the flickering portal in amazement. As he gazed into what appeared to be some sort of energy field, it began to ripple and warp. Out of the rip in space-time stepped a huge, black, metallic, monster with a glowing orb embedded in its chest. Looking up, the archeologist saw a greenish, evil-looking reptilian creature behind a clear canopy. The turret of the mechanical monstrosity, swept from side-to-side as if surprised that it had stepped through space and time to find a world ripe for conquest. With a soft whirring noise, the turret turned toward the archeologist. When he held up his hand in the universal gesture of peace he thought he could make out a dry, sibilant laugh in return. As the petrified archeologist watched the green plasma cannons charge up, he realized that he had finally made a name for himself. He would be remembered as the man who unleashed the biggest nightmare the world had ever known.
The idea for this skin and story have been kicking around in my mind for months. I've probably tried making this skin a half a dozen times and always failed to come up with something that looked sufficiently like an ender-creeper mech to satisfy me. In my storyline, I envision creepers as finally realizing that suiciding every time they meet a human is probably counterproductive to the longevity of their race. To preserve their way of life amid the spreading wave of humanity in the minecraft universe, they form an alliance with endermen and develop an army of mechs operated by haptic treadle controls. The mechs can travel through space and time using a combination of portals and enderpearls. Instead of self-detonating, the creeper pilots control powerful turret mounted plasma cannons, and mechanical claws capable of tearing through blocks, and humans, with ease. However, humanity is not going to take this threat sitting down. Even now, a cadre of the best redstone engineers are heading toward a rendezvous point at a secret base to begin designing countermeasures for the mech menace. Elsewhere, fringe scientists are conducting unethical genetic research to construct living organisms that could stem the ender-creeper invasion.
Since his initial visit, the ever-shifting sands of the desert had partially exposed what appeared to be a series of blocks fashioned from dark, volcanic glass. He now realized that this project would require more than a small brush. He turned from his work and trudged over to the malodorous, and truculent, camel he had tethered to the only vegetation native to the desert, a rather thorny cactus. He unloaded the camel and spread his tools upon the ground. He unwrapped a well used iron shovel, and took a swig of warm, metallic tasting water from his canteen before starting to excavate in earnest. He took frequent breaks as the sun beat down with the intensity of a blast furnace and created heat waves that shimmered and danced across the dunes. Twice, he had to stop and engage in brief skirmishes with the giant arachnids that hid just below the surface of the sand waiting to spring on unsuspecting animals that wandered by. While the engagements were a little dangerous, the protein he gained from devouring his vanquished foes, augmented his dwindling rations. Lack of food, and dehydration, had claimed the lives of numerous explorers in this remote region. He was too close to attaining his life's ambition to go out that way.
After the sun went down, the air became noticeably cooler. The brightest stars began to appear in the velvety darkness overhead and a full moon began to rise. Pausing to stretch, the archeologist looked toward the heavens and reflected on his youthful choice to study past civilizations instead of civilizations that might exist on the moon or even among the stars. If there had been a way to travel to those places he might have made a different career choice and made a name for himself years ago.
Putting his fanciful ruminations aside, the archeologist returned to the task at hand. It was getting too dark to see clearly, so he a gathered a small pile of the dried brush that dotted the landscape. He pulled the flint and steel he had inherited from his father from his pack. It took a few attempts, but he was finally able to strike a spark that caused the brush to catch fire. Sitting down on a convenient slab of exposed sandstone, he pulled a briar pipe from his front pocket and used the flint and steel to light his tobacco. Setting them to one side, he rummaged around in his pack and located his sketchbook and pen. Puffing contentedly on his pipe, he started sketching each of the blocks he had uncovered in his journal. He observed that the blocks were almost all identical with the exception of some peculiar scorch marks. His pulse began to race as he came to the conclusion that the scorch marks could be used to puzzle out how the blocks were originally arranged. His growing excitement overcame his fatigue and he began to assemble a primitive, post and lintel type structure. Lifting and positioning the heavy blocks was hard work and he began to wish he had trained a young assistant to both help him and dote on his brilliance. Even without help, he was soon down to a single block. Grunting with the exertion, he hefted the block, and slid it home with a harsh, grating sound. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and came to the sudden realization that what once had held the potential to be his defining moment was nothing more than a doorless, doorframe. If he presented this to his peers, he would be the laughingstock of the Institute of Antiquities. His earlier jubilation turned to sour remorse. In a fit of disgust, he tossed his journal aside, dropped to his knees, and began to bang his fists on the ground in frustration.
It was then that things began to go horribly awry. It could have been the heat from the flames, the smell of tobacco smoke, the sound of the last block grinding into place, the cast off journal skittering across the sand, or even the vibrations that originated from the archeologist pounding his fists on the ground that roused the arachnid lurking in the sand behind the archeologist. As the spider pounced, the archeologist drew his short blade and locked in mortal combat with the fanged menace. The two rolled about in a desperate battle. By chance, one of them knocked the forgotten flint and steel against the block structure. The ensuing spark caused the whole structure to spontaneously ignite in a violet flash. Luckily for the archeologist, the spider caught fire and he was able to quickly dispatch it by pinning it to the sandstone outcropping with his blade. Panting from his exertions with the spider, he turned to the flickering portal in amazement. As he gazed into what appeared to be some sort of energy field, it began to ripple and warp. Out of the rip in space-time stepped a huge, black, metallic, monster with a glowing orb embedded in its chest. Looking up, the archeologist saw a greenish, evil-looking reptilian creature behind a clear canopy. The turret of the mechanical monstrosity, swept from side-to-side as if surprised that it had stepped through space and time to find a world ripe for conquest. With a soft whirring noise, the turret turned toward the archeologist. When he held up his hand in the universal gesture of peace he thought he could make out a dry, sibilant laugh in return. As the petrified archeologist watched the green plasma cannons charge up, he realized that he had finally made a name for himself. He would be remembered as the man who unleashed the biggest nightmare the world had ever known.
The idea for this skin and story have been kicking around in my mind for months. I've probably tried making this skin a half a dozen times and always failed to come up with something that looked sufficiently like an ender-creeper mech to satisfy me. In my storyline, I envision creepers as finally realizing that suiciding every time they meet a human is probably counterproductive to the longevity of their race. To preserve their way of life amid the spreading wave of humanity in the minecraft universe, they form an alliance with endermen and develop an army of mechs operated by haptic treadle controls. The mechs can travel through space and time using a combination of portals and enderpearls. Instead of self-detonating, the creeper pilots control powerful turret mounted plasma cannons, and mechanical claws capable of tearing through blocks, and humans, with ease. However, humanity is not going to take this threat sitting down. Even now, a cadre of the best redstone engineers are heading toward a rendezvous point at a secret base to begin designing countermeasures for the mech menace. Elsewhere, fringe scientists are conducting unethical genetic research to construct living organisms that could stem the ender-creeper invasion.
| Gender | Interchangeable |
| Model | Steve |
| Tags |
tools/tracking
1743838
5
creeper-mech-with-story
Escapazition
shackfu
PsyChNOdelic
Ender Sparkle
Lezbatronicc
Cyn_TheSolver
Berillii
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Edit: This had to be on pop reel...