Wasteland Warrior

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by TujoThePanda

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Wasteland Warrior

The wasteland saw rise to many distinct and separate fighters from all walks of life, as conditions throughout the world worsened in light of the ensuing fallout. Fighting had become a way of life.. Be it the impoverished settlers struggling to survive against the merciless onslaught of deformed mutants besieging their homes, to the hobbled militias defending settlements from raider and bandit attacks. There were mercenaries, seekers, adventurers, hunters, soldiers, raiders, Knights, and scavengers, all of which had developed their own means of defense in a world of lawlessness and decay. And among them rose a higher caliber of fighter between them. Warriors that stood apart from the masses, having overcome, or continue to overcome, mounting adversity in the face of impossible odds. One such warrior was Ieyasu Hokkaido.

Ieyasu hailed from moderately modest origins as a greaser from New Haven, spending much of his time working on motorcycles and cars after his days at school. He was also one of the lucky ones to reach cryogenic stasis in one of the few “Installations” set up and constructed by the Genovan Commonwealth. After waking up to a horrifically altered world, the hard-boiled tanuki wasted no time adapting to the adversity that immersed him. He willingly parted paths with fellow survivors when the doors finally opened his installation to the world, and went his own way, after stripping what little he had left from a storage locker in the shelter. Adorned in his biker-gear from before the war, the only weapon he could scrounge up from the incredibly modest armory was a purpose built sawn-off shotgun. The burglar gun would be his only real means of defense, and it was the one weapon he came to rely on in the wastes, apart from his own two fists. Every shot would count, the munitions for such a weapon being so rare..

For the most part, he became a loner in the coming years. Struggling hard to live off the land, he managed to persevere, as barren and lifeless as much of it was. His premiere “occupation,” if one could call it that, was playing the part of a scavenger. Scavenging yielded fruits of labor, however, Ieyasu risking his life at times for just an ounce of riches. Usually in the form of meager supplies like food or water, or even rare pre-war components that fetched a fair price on the open market. What little armor adorning his person merely supplemented that which the leather jacket and pants already offered in protection, a hammered pauldron with reinforced leather perched like a mantle on one shoulder. His gun arm was left mostly exposed, dried out leather rolled back to the elbow. His left arm he left fully encased in reinforced leather, acting as a sort of “shield” in a heated melee. The gear he wore became almost iconic to those few that saw him in a more preferable light..

He filled he title of warrior rather well, standing firm and tall with a stiff upper lip through most engagements. He proved to be as fearless as he was ruthless. If munitions were used down to the last, he would not hesitate to rush ahead for a suicide charge, pulling any maneuver he could in a pitched battle. So long as it would enable his survival in the very end, he'd thrust himself into the battle, until any and all that opposed him were dead or dying. If not for his questionable moral standing or propensity for violence, he'd have made an excellent candidate for the Knights of the Road. The harsh environment of the wastes had undoubtedly influenced his mind, casting a bitter outlook on his psyche. It was a quality of his person that stood to the present day.

It was upon this day that Ieyasu trudged through the badlands of Ruby Ridge. Shards of rock jutted out of the ground freely around him, seemingly raised from the intense fractures that split through the soft-sand and grit ages ago. All in all, the color of his immediate surroundings took on a rosy reddish hue, offering the tell-tale name most referred to the area as. The sand and grit making up much of the burnt soil was the dull color of khaki, offset by much smaller shards of rock littering the area. The conditions of his meager existence had forced his hand, as he had run low on fuel just earlier. Parking his only means of transportation, the rare functioning Escalaiŕe 90X, behind a rocky ridge in the desert, he had moved ahead to explore the area on foot. Far less risky, far less noticeable.

His hopes at salvage or fuel were dashed upon exploring a ruined compound, which proved to be just as barren as the wasteland encompassing it. Walking back, it soon became apparent that the characteristic roar of the engine had attracted unwanted attention from earlier. He weaved in and out between the rock formations surrounding him, offering the only means of cover in an otherwise open area. And then he saw them.. He couldn't be sure if they were trashy wasters or raiders, but it didn't seem to matter one way or the other. The moment they looked to him, they froze. No one moved, the tanukis arms cast at either side of his form, standing not fifty meters from them. There were about five of them, raggedy and dirty, adorned in what little scrap cloth, leather, and iron formed their attire. Their faces, obscured by wrappings of cloth or respirators about their mouths, the glimmer of goggles veiling their eyes.

Not a word was exchanged by either side, but the tensions were very real, mounting by the moment. They couldn't have been well armed if they had let this much time elapse between them. And so, the tanuki took a solid step forth, sparking a reaction among the five. They reached for their chosen weaponry, just as the tanuki would, a heavy construct of wood and steel sliding right out of a holster strapped to one hip. He hefted the relatively small weapon up in right paw, brandishing it rather freely, taking on a sort of fighting stance. Brow creasing as he flashed twin rows of razor sharp incisors, the tanuki let out a guttural cry, just before letting loose with the pull of the iron trigger. A thunderous roar echoed throughout the ridge as the blast of heavy buck-shot tore through the open air, splatters of crimson staining the open ground.

Commentary: This is another iPad creation, and I gotta say, it came out rather well. Ieyasu himself may look unpolished and dull in color and form, but I'm surprised that the iPad could perform well enough in that regard. It took a bit of playing around with the program (Procreate) to get it to come out the way I wanted it to, but here's to another pic.

I've been wanting to get a tablet that could function as a stand-alone portable sketchbook, among the other functions I'd have in mind for it. Having the iPad 2 for the longest time, well, I picked up a few art apps for it. Thus far, it's been Sketchbook Pro and Procreate that have been my absolute faves.

Yeah, I know. Ieyasu himself rather shamelessly takes on a look straight out of The Road Warrior, but I think I'll let it stand. It fits with his older pic, that which can be found on DA, and I rather ilke it. Came up with a new shading technique for the scenery, which was previously applied to Ieyasus jacket for a burnt-out leather look. The chara could have come out a little better than he does now, but it's the best I can do at the moment. Hope you all like it, either way.

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