WELCOME TO THE GROUP!
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You're now being in a group dedicated to the incredible world of steampunk, and here be the few words about the group.
If you want to join click the 'Join our group' button and wait until the request will be approved. Please, write a few words why you're joining the group, we'd like to know more about our members
This group is about any type of steampunk: historical steampunk, fantasy steampunk, dieselpunk, stonepunk, sandalpunk, clockpunk, retro-futurism, etcetera, etcetera.
We have a lot of folders right here. It's made for easier browsing within the group. We have a blog entry where you can find some tips about what to submit to the group galleries; the short one is below.
Submit your work to the right folders, and if it was declined don't be shy to ask why, and we'll explain it.
We don't have a big quality-control here - any member can submit art, but, please, try to avoid pen drawing on lined paper, and try to submit your best works!
What we put in 'Cosplay' folder:
The Engineer curses.
Cups are knocked over.
Screws and gears scatter wildly.
Wine spills, drips on the floorboards.
A precious glass vial is just barely caught.
His assistant is cowering under the table, hiding.
Hurtling hunk of metal comes straight for him, he squeaks.
Assistant tries to dodge, forgets where he is and hits his head.
The Engineer gets a heavy wrench, hefts it, swings it threateningly.
He is not fast enough, every swing just hits air, making him dance around.
It is a silly dance, all flailing arms and stumbling steps, twirling in dizzy circles.
The assisistant comes out to help, gets nearly hit, is drawn into the dance himself.
"Stay behind me." the Engineer orders, pulling him to safety, out of the flying objects way.
Mechanical hearts all aflutter bumble around the room, bumping into furniture, emptying the shelves.
"Love is in the air~" the radio sings.
The Gaslight Volumes of Will Pocket: Turnkey
by Christopher Dunkle with Lori Williams
For more excerpts and info, please visit www.gaslightvolumes.com
Copyright 2013 Christopher Dunkle
Chapter One: Pocket and Dandy
October 1, 1888
“You ever fall in love with the end of the world, Mister Alan?”
“That more of your poetry, Pocket?”
“Not this time, I'm afraid.”
“Because it's getting a little late for poetry.”
“Then don't worry.”
“All right. I'll bite.”
“It's a long story.”
“You finish your drink?”
“Then go ahead and talk. Your tab's due.”
“Normal price. A story for a round. But tell it good, Pocket. Lots of flash and pop and romance. Give me my beer's worth.”
“The beer was a little watery
Chapter 1: The Iron Baron
The morning sky of deep reds and oranges cast long shadows along the fields that extended into the horizon. Unus Solum's ring shined purple, arcing across the sky, as far as the eye could see. I walked slowly across the porch of my family home, selecting each step with care, aiming to make as little noise as possible. I picked up my bike, which was leaning against the far end of the deck, and retraced my path back to the steps which led down to the walkway. I placed the bike on the ground, fixed my backpacks straps, stepped on the bike, and kicked off. My heart raced, the handlebars became loose under my sweaty hands. I wobbled along the dirt walkway onto the equally uncomfortable road.
I was actually doing it. I fought looking back at my childhood home, out of fear that I would lose my courage if I saw it. I blocked out the thoughts of home, both good and bad, and focused on moving forward. I gained speed, exploding down the road. A smile made its way