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Happy_Amateur



Joined: Jan 14, 2019

Post   Posted: Mar 16, 2020 - 06:28 Reply with quote Back to top

@C0ddlefish

Draft 1
https://imgur.com/a/H2Dtraz
Draft 2
https://imgur.com/a/dWqBpB7
Draft 3 (my favourite)
https://imgur.com/a/MlRDw48
C0ddlefish



Joined: Sep 17, 2019

Post   Posted: Mar 16, 2020 - 08:27 Reply with quote Back to top

Awesome - yes no.3 is definitely top of the list. Thank you.
C0ddlefish



Joined: Sep 17, 2019

Post   Posted: Mar 17, 2020 - 08:42 Reply with quote Back to top

Coliform Blockeria

Commissioned with a brief simply based on bacteria in water and the colours derived from laboratory e-coli testing, this is a wonderfully evocative work.

Instantly the neon-esque colour scheme screams look us, hear us, fear us. Adding a Punk Style font forces home this is a team that says 'what it lack in competence, we make up in aggression.'

As shirtless car insurance salesman, James Osterberg Jr famously shared in 1977 - here captured by Scottish miserablists Mogwai https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABl9S9RBY6A - "I don't know Johnny Rotten.. but I'm sure, I'm sure he puts as much blood and sweat into what he does as Sigmund Freud did.". Art, BloodBowl and in fact life in general are as much about blood, sweat and tears as about bold lines, dynamic shading or actual talent.

....or more simply the pink and yellow theme fits well with the absolute clown show of a BloodBowl team who still have more casualties caused by blockless both downs than any other method.
Happy_Amateur



Joined: Jan 14, 2019

Post   Posted: Mar 18, 2020 - 00:30 Reply with quote Back to top

Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing
Happy_Amateur



Joined: Jan 14, 2019

Post   Posted: Mar 18, 2020 - 00:38 Reply with quote Back to top

The kiss of a fairy light. The sweet touch of a midnight black stout on the lips. The smooth, cool sensation of liquid gold trickling down the throat. The bat of a companions eyelash, tickling ones cheek and making empty promises of eventual closeness. The warm numbness of forgetting. The throbbing in the lower back as one's kidneys try desperatly to filter out the thick sludge of viscous urine passing through them. The horrific realisation that everything that went down last night is about to come back up. A hand slapped over the mouth as vomit sprays sideways, everywhere, splattering the hall wallpaper. The shame and guilt as it is swallowed back down. And then the gut rumble.... how did this happen? What drunken, midnight choices bought us to this? Badly cooked frozen fish pies from the freezer? A bacon, cheese and nacho bean pie from the 7-11 in Paddington, Sydney on April 22nd, 1992? Or just the embarressment of realising that I was avoiding my own eye contact in the mirror of the pub toilets simply because the harsh flourescent lighting in there shows just how grey I have become..... and I wasn't even washing my hands.

Coliform Blockeria indeed.
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