Last chance, folks!
Your Challenge:
The challenge, should you chose to accept it, is to translate my short stories from the verbal to the visual! Pick your favorite from the list below and draw a scene or characters from it! Action, drama, science fiction, romance, humans, robots, werewolves... There should be something down there for everybody.
Some characters already have references, but some don't. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Some stories contain characters that belong to my friends, but feel free to draw them as well!
Your Rules:
To enter,
+fave this journal and +watch me so you can get updates for the contest. If you don't dig me, you can always un-watch once we're done.
Draw an illustration depicting a character or a scene from one of the ten stories below.
You may submit as many entries as you like!
Entries will be judged by faithfulness to the source material and complexity of the image.
In the description under your entry, include a link to the original story
and this contest article.
Send your entries to me in a note so I can add them to
this folder.
Entries must comply with the dA Terms of Service and be filed into the correct category. Any stock material must be properly credited. Also, no bases! Entries must be completely made by you.
The deadline is
Tuesday, May 6!
(Hopefully) Your Prizes:
Unfortunately, this year I cannot afford as extensive a prize pool as I have in past years. I wish I could shower you all with prizes, but I hope this will be sufficient to draw you in!
Third Place
A simple sketch (like
this) by
garocamarilloA sketch by
UnderbaseA bag of Jelly Babies
A journal feature by
sun-lilyA drawing by
Beautiful-DoubtSecond Place
A colored character drawing by
LittleMissAwesomeAn inked drawing by
UnderbaseA Ghostbusters T-shirt (size XL)
A short story by me (1K word count)
A journal feature by
sun-lilyA drawing by
Beautiful-DoubtFirst Place
One 3-month premium membership!
An art piece (as yet undecided) by
aunjuliA colored picture by
UnderbaseA short story by me (1K word count)
A 128MB memory card containing a collection of songs that keep me inspired
A bag of Jelly Babies
A journal feature by
sun-lilyA drawing by
Beautiful-DoubtI'm also accepting donations to the prize pool. If you're interested in donating to the pool for some cross-promotion, just drop me a message.Your Source Material:
Original Works
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or
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The further (mis)adventures of Samson Phoenix, a young man with an inferiority complex as massive as his werewolf form.
Legends
"Professor Sewell! Come quickly! You're not bloody going to believe this!"
Professor Elizabeth Sewell gave the intern a cross glare through her glasses. She was a middle-aged woman, with red hair just beginning to silver. She was not finicky about her appearance, yet she tried very hard to avoid the "stern librarian" appearance displayed by many of her colleagues. "Language, Mister Porter. If you wish to be a professional, you'll need to control that hasty tongue of yours."
"Right sorry," young Porter gasped obligatorily as he shoved aside both flaps that served as the door to her tent and beckoned her outside. He was a consummate portrayal of young adulthood: longish hair that constantly dangled over his brows, sloppily-shaven stubble, and lose, dirty clothes. Dark brown hair and eyes were the only color contrasting an otherwise pasty complexion. "But you must come see this! We've found something in the cave!"
Elizabeth sighed as she closed her archeology book, obviously in no hurry.
The archeological discovery of the century proves the existence of werewolves... or does it? This story ties in to the universe of the novel I'm currently editing.
The Next StageDis Carson and Zriz dropped their guns and raised their hands—on in Zriz’s case, claws—into the air. Zriz spat at the feet of the Eubolan holding them at gunpoint. Dis shared the sentiment. Out of habit, he berated himself. He should have seen the signs of ambush before boarding the derelict and called in the authorities. As if the life of a search and rescue unit wasn’t dangerous enough, he’d had to go charging into the dead ship looking for survivors. Trying to be a hero.
Instead, it looked like he was going to be just another victim. A five-year veteran should have known better.
“Look, just take the rations and go,” Dis said. “Shit ain’t even expensive.”
“Do not tell me you are afraid of death, Carson,” said Zriz with that clicking noise he had for a laugh.
“Hell no,” he said. “But dying at the hands of a filthy pirate over a measly box of food rations isn’t what I want carved as an epita
“You humans have such odd concepts of death. To my people, there is no such thing as a ‘proud’ death. There is only tragedy.”
Earth and FangThis deep into the ancient maintenance halls of the disused subway system, air ventilation was not sufficient for a fire. Clara Hailey tightened the ratty length of knitting she called a scarf around her weather-worn face and surveyed the other piles of tattered, filthy clothing huddling together for warmth in the dank, dark environment humanity had been pushed into. Her raw fingers squeezed at the frayed ends of her scarf, as telltale sign of her stress. She did that a lot lately. The cold penetrated her into the marrow, as she had very little flesh on her bones to retain body heat. This was no way to live. Only two decades ago, humanity had been the undisputed masters of the world. She had been a child then, but she still remembered the pinnacle of their species. Now there was a whole generation for whom those were only abstract stories.
Sure, they had managed the Earth with foolhardy recklessness, but it had still been theirs. They had more rightful claim to it than the aliens who h
When Earth is overrun, monsters must emerge from the shadows.
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The antihero Wildman won't let anything get in the way of his mission.Fan Fiction
The ZooCybertronians did not experience grogginess. Unlike humans, there were no levels of consciousness; they were either offline or online. Moonhunter had tried to explain what it was like to Whiplash once, on a Saturday morning when her human brother Cassidy had been reluctant to get out of bed. But the young Maximal had not been able to fathom what it was like and she still couldn’t.
Although, when she snapped online to find herself in a dark cell, staring up at a barely-illuminated ceiling, she found herself wishing she could control her level of consciousness and go back offline without fully registering the freakishness into which she had just awoken.
She played back her most recent memories for some clue as to how she’d wound up here. There had a huge sphere in the sky, suddenly spearing out of nowhere while she scouted a valley on some remote planet. A blue light had illuminated her and then nothingness. It must have been a stun ray, or a tractor beam, or some efficient
When a young Maximal is kidnapped, how far will her creator go to rescue her?
The Warrior's PathHe had decided. As his sensei had taught him, a warrior needed to be resolute. Ironic, then, that the warrior's interpretation of his master's teachings had led him down a path that separated him from said master. Sensei had disapproved of his intentions, saying that he sought glory, not honor. But were they not the same thing? Glory could not be achieved without honor, and honor meant nothing without glory.
He walked through the hallways of the Astrological Imperium. Such a duplicitous hideaway was hardly becoming of the future conquerors of Cybertron. But then, the legends said that the original Megatron had founded the Decepticon movement amongst worse straights. The Predacons were repeating history, but they would learn from the mistakes of their ancestors. This new Megatron had assured him of a grand plan to wipe Cybertron free from the stranglehold of hypocritical, oppressive Maximals. They would succeed where the Decepticons had failed.
He hesitated at the entrance of Megatron's
"I, Dynobot, pledge myself to your cause," he rasped. "My sword is yours. I will stand by your side as we terrorize our enemies."
Oddities“Welcome, Nikola, to the TARDIS!” said the Doctor. He tossed his hunter-green coat onto a coat rack and spread his arms out for dramatic effect. “Is it not magnifisome?”
Nikola Tesla was awestruck by massive room. “It’s-“
“Bigger on the inside?” asked the Doctor.
“Actually, I was going to say beautiful,” Tesla said. “You didn’t really expect me to state the obvious, did you?”
The Doctor pouted. “Most people do. Care to take a guess at how it’s done?”
“Well, this is obviously beyond the reach of contemporary science, but I would hazard a guess at the manipulation of dimensional laws?” He stepped forward and surveyed the control panels. As if dared, he reached out to touch the console. It somehow felt more real than he expected. “For a fantastical machine, the façade strikes me as rather anachronistic. Wooden panels, brass fixtures. What are these glowing rods in
A very-random collision between two Doctors, Nikola Tesla, and an astronaut.
Half the BattleBilly couldn’t take it any more. His parents were so mean. So he was going to run away. That would teach them a lesson. He stuffed his backpack with clothes, his favorite action figure, and a jar of peanut butter. He would take care of himself and prove to his parents that they shouldn’t treat him like a baby. And then when he finally came home, it would be on his own terms.
He waited until midnight. When his parents were sound asleep, he opened his bedroom window and climbed down the latticework from the second story.
Billy made it all the way to the corner before a yellow car transformed into Bumblebee. A military helicopter shone a spotlight over him and several G.I. Joes rappelled down around him. Superman swooped down from the sky, landed, and put his hands on his hips. Captain Planet materialized in a rainbow of light. A manhole creaked open and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles came pouring out of the sewer.
All the assembled heroes scrutinized him.
“Okay, okay,
If you didn't grow up in the 80s and/or 90s, you probably won't get this.
Your Entries:
Previous Years' Winners!
