#also also! I have a scalpel redesign on the way!

[toonformers]

Uh uh uh!

post 5 songs in your current song rotation and tag 10 mutuals!!

@shadowcat222 tagged me lol so here I go. Also hi Mub, I’m not dead! Hi, everyone else, I’m not dead!

1. Valhalla Calling - Miracle of Sound

2. We are Vikings - Peyton Parrish cover

3. Ragnarok - Peyton Parrish cover

4. Enemies - The Score

5. Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

I don’t think I have 10 mutuals

Can I tag you again Mub lol? @perytonpred @nova-blues @shadowcat222

Uh. That’s it qwp

[cookinary]

It’s about time!

I finally did Muta’s redesign!

And I realized I’ve never shared his full backstory so here it is, under the cut, it’s pretty long XD:

In this universe, Ophelia not only is the Internet Dictator but she also is a mad scientist who developed a mutagen formula that works on humans

And she needed a test subject

Guess who

So whenever Ophelia wants to experiment on him, she sedates him in any way that works, it can be darts, drugs in his coffee, you name it

And when he wakes up, Pedro (Imma call him Muta okay, bear with me) has to live with whatever she did to him while he was out cold

She gave him an electric collar that acts as a tracker: if he tries to remove it, it zaps him; if he leaves a certain perimeter, it zaps him strongly enough to knock him out

Only Ophelia can remove the collar and she only removes it during her experiments

Muta is not allowed to leave the house except when the family sends him on a hit

The window of his room has electrified bars 

He wags his tail when he's excited

And starts hissing when he gets too upset

Because he can't go outside, he picked up painting as a mean to calm down/let his feelings out

He also has a diary

Escape

Because Ophelia always uses the same anaesthetic, Muta's body had built up a resistance to it

So he woke up in the middle of an experiment before Ophelia could do anything

He broke his restraints and attacked her

She defended herself by stabbing him with a scalpel right over his ear

That made Muta go completely feral and he caused mayhem in the lab before escaping and passing out somewhere far away

After the escape

He woke up freaking out because of the memory loss, the mutations and the talking banana that just popped out of nowhere (he knew Pedro before all this, he just forgot about it)

Because he forgot everything, he rediscovers his mutations little by little

Blurry memories slowly came back to him over the course of the years, through flashbacks and nightmares

After remembering almost everything that happened, he decided to go on a revenge rampage —hence the game

Post game stuff

After killing Ophelia and the banana, Muta decides to leak all of her experiments logs online to show the world her real side

He doesn't leak her works though, as he is afraid that some people will use the mutagen formula for evil

In fact, he destroys the lab and the formula

But he secretly keeps one physical copy of the formula that he never talks about

Soon, pretty much the whole world knows about Ophelia's awful experiments on her own brother

Rumors start circulating about how said brother may have been the one who killed her and the rest of the family and leaked the logs

His favorite drink to relax is red fruits tea

After his escape, he still likes to paint, it helps him calm down (especially Bob Ross tutorials), but he also picked up cooking as a hobby

He posts pictures of his art and his dishes online without ever showing his body, and people keep begging him for a face reveal

He has a black sphynx cat!

He named her Josephine

He sometimes posts pictures of her too and people love her

Has an amazing singing voice???

He lives off assassination jobs

His therapist knows about him

Also the vets from the time where Josephine got hurt and he rushed to the vet clinic without thinking of covering himself up

And finally, the list of his powers/abilities:

Reptile-like eye (Night vision)

Retractable claws (his hands are much bigger than normal)

Prehensile tail (reptilian in appearance)

Focus

Gills (can breathe underwater) (located on his neck, but only appear when submerged)

Can regrow limbs/body parts like lizards/axolotls do, in minutes

Retractable bug wings (similar to a dragonfly's)

Thick bulletproof scales on his back

Hearing as good as a barn owl, if not better (tilts head when locating a sound)

Strong sense of smell (can smell blood like sharks)

Venomous fangs (Inland Taipan venom)

Forked tongue (like a snake's)

Extremely fast

Panther-like feet (he can walk around silently)

Extremely strong (can lift about 2 tons)

Thick bulletproof scales on forearms (similar to the one on his back)

Can stick to/crawl on any surfaces (walls, ceilings, etc.) like geckos

Immune to any type of toxic substance

Can stay upside down for an undefined period of time (like bats)

Second pair of eyelids to see underwater

Can regulate his body temperature

Woo, this boi has a very detailled backstory, huh

[calikocretin]

kinda bored at the moment so i designed some random character designs for some new characters i'm gonna be making (around ehh.. 3 i'd say and the first two are just redesigns [even tho the second one is just a more completed version n shiz])

so for some explanation, reality breakers are the assholes of my universe and are like gods but instead of creating things or whatever, they destroy shit and hence this group of reality breakers are called the "altz'm ring".

this bitch #1 is irotiko, they have the ability to shift objects into one another. the size of the objects depend on their energy that is required to shape said object into whatever.

bitch #2 is actually a bit more nice compared to the others (and actually has a disguised form in which i'll show it later, but on my deviantart theres a ref of his disguised form)

pretty much the ability to zip through dimensions using zippers n shiz. the zippers can also be used as a way to open up people- who needs scalpel if you got a zipper you can stick onto someone and unzip it??

bitch #3 is a sucker for patterns. luroku has always liked seeing an influx of colours and patterns in one little space. i guess you could say she's the kind of person to enjoy modern art (you know the really simple modern art thats sold for fricking 239014901940 dollars).

well, by enjoying it. she basically just changes the entire pattern/colours of the paintings with just one little touch. yeah she's like midas but with patterns. her most favorite ones are either static, polka dot or rainbows.

bitch #4 is a really fast bitch-

X-8R is so fricking fast to the point she'd have to wear this machinery thing to help slow down her speech so the other members could understand her more. (as well as her movement so she wouldn't crash into things so much)

she has the ability to fast-forward people, for example. someone just casually walking down the street, she fast-forwards them so hard that said person accidentally speedwalks into china and crashes into the great wall of china, turning into a pile of flesh.

ok, last bitch. bitch #5 is the complete opposite of X-8R. as well as her wife lmao- (plus her design not being the most proud of imo)

she also has the machinery thingy like X-8R does except its in the back. so basically her and her wife are either sped up or slowed down themselves so that they're in moderate speed for other members to understand.

she may be a slowpoke herself, but if she worked with her wifey together you'd be fricking dead- the way she can kill you is by slowing down your heart, bloodflow. literally anything your fleshy body depends on. she also puts people in slow mo by impaling them too LMAOO

if i ever finish their designs i'll show em and post it on my other social media :vv

[tea-darling1]

A redesign of nurse Ann, kinda. I modified her outfit to an actual nurses outfit and decided to write a little story for her that’s more canon related and realistic then the famous fanon one, of which yaguyi and Delucat said they did not like. So I raided deviant art to find as much canon info as I could to but into the story. I have to clear up that the image on the left is not meant to be sexualised, please do not take it that way. It is meant to show her injuries. I’ll probably remake this, into a coloured and more detailed version, this is just a rough sketch/idea. The story I’m about to share is just a summary. I’ll post a full version if people want me too.

Nurse Ann Lusen Mia, was a nurse at a New-York hospital of which we are unable to specify. She was born in new York on October 31st. She is female, and is currently 24 years of age. Her family is American, all the way back to when the european immagrants ‘inhabitied’ the place. She has pale skin, brown eyes; Her original hair colour is black and she has dyed it a vibrant red. She worked as a nurse, helping patients with their medication, and doctors during their surgery. During a very intense surgery. One of the other nurses tripped as they were passing the scalpel, Ann just so happened to be in the way and was imp-ailed in the heart. She was rushed out and into emergency. She survived, barely though. That week just so happened to be a reincarnation of ‘a series of unfortunate events.’ There was a gas leak in the kitchens, as the stove was turned on, near said leak. It exploded. Fire catching around the area, spreading throughout the hospital. Due to Ann’s condition she wasn’t able to be rescued. When they went through the ashes of the building they found her. Still somewhat breathing. Her limbs and the majority of her body however, were burnt to a crisp. Beyond repair. She was taken to a near-by hospital and treated, she had to get all her limbs amputated, due to the amount of deaths during that fire, they were able to find a couple donors and helped rebuild her body. Of which being different skin colours and races. Giving her a multi-coloured complexion. After she was fully recovered she was unable to continue working as a nurse due to her condition. She was pissed off about this and stormed out, seaking refuge at an abandoned hospital in the area. She claimed this place as her own as no one else was there. She found an old nurses outfit and claimed it, it becoming her iconic outfit. She modified the outfit to her desires, she ripped off the sleeves, replacing it with elbow length gloves, she also cut/ripped off a portion of the skirt, making it shorter and easier to move in. She tries to cover most of her body as she hates how she looks. She wants to be perfect. She tries to fix her-self with whatever she can find, trying to make herself look more human and less monster like. She goes outside only to collect food/supplies and to convince people that she’s a professional, able to help them if they’re hurt. Of which she takes them to the hospital. Killing them, and using their corpses as dummies to ‘take care’ of like a patient, and perform surgeries on. To make herself feel useful. 

Lol hope this is alright, I just had a random burst of motivation and wanted to do this. I really like the design I gave her. :)

[tastefullynefarious]

Torment never looked so goddamn fine

Chapter 2 / 10 - Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Sooooo, i was very disappointed that most of the songs in Billy inspired playlists are post 85, so I’m adding one per chapter, a little song that could have actually plaid in the background as the story unfolds.

Word count: 4,134 

Warnings: 18+, I have no shame!, Should have proof read this one more time, shameless smut in case I wasn’t clear

Last night a little dancer came dancin' to my door

Last night a little angel came pumping on the floor

She said, come on baby, I got a license for love

And if it expires, pray help from above

Because

In the midnight hour she cried, more, more, more

With a rebel yell she cried, more, more, more

In the midnight hour, babe, more, more, more

With a rebel yell, more, more, more

More, more, more

There was lots of shouting. Screaming actually, long pain-filled howls mixed with curses in a language she didn't yet fully understand. The scalpel was small, but she didn't need much to make them crumble beneath her power. She barely needed anything at all, the minuscule knife and the drawn blood were nothing more than visual aids. That was the beauty of the human brain, you could trick it into believing anything if determined enough, people did it to themselves often without even realizing. But she, oh she could do so much more.

Pain was a funny thing. It lifted some up, made them fight harder, while completely shattering the spirits of others. It was fuel, and its consequences were up to the mentality of whoever it was inflicted upon. But no matter who you were and how strong you thought yourself, there was a threshold, a limit of suffering the brain could handle before it sent signals to the heart to stop. And she could play with that limit as she saw fit, like a dial to turn up and down, making the smallest of cuts feel like the insides were being torn open or a bullet wound like a mere pinch. She could bring the prisoners from the depths of hell to the sweet bliss of nothingness with just her mind and they would spill all their secrets in broken shouts, in that rigid language, needless blood on her hands. And she would hear them long after she was sent back to her little square room and she would see their faces when she closed her eyes.

Sandy woke up in the midnight hour, cold sweat covering her entire body, the screams still rang in her ears. It took her several minutes to distinguish reality from dream, her body shaking uncontrollably. She was not in that room anymore, and she'll be damned if she ever went back. That was the whole reason she came to Hawkins after all.

She hopped in the shower, letting the steaming water soothe away some of the aches in her body and the itch under the skin of her left wrist. She scrubbed the spot relentlessly to no avail, before the pain made her stop. But pain was not a problem to her, never had been; she could just make it stop. Her eyes stared a hole into her wrist, the cover up tattoo faded just enough to make out the original underneath in bold black - 007. The tears came out of nowhere, the shame followed soon after.

How was she still so weak? So easily brought down by things so far in her past? It was pathetic. She punched the hard tile wall, shock spreading through her bones like ink on paper, but she didn't turn the dial down. Sometimes it was good to just feel the burning ache. Sometimes feeling nothing scared her more than the soreness of bruised bones and split open skin.

Sleep wasn't going to come again that night, not between her recurring nightmares and the new problems that arose. She was in her car in moments, hair still dripping wet and an oversized shirt haphazardly thrown on. Driving usually helped calm her nerves, but it was doing little in that moment. Coming to Hawkins must have been a mistake after all. It only brought more questions and none of the sweet release she had dreamed of.

She found the quarry easily despite not particularly looking for it, but it was a good a spot as any to ponder and make sense of her raging thoughts. She was tired. She had expected the nightmares not to fully disappear, but honestly she was hoping they would have at least changed to the new horrors she was exposed to. Apparently childhood trauma was stronger than finding out there was another dimension filled with mind controlling monsters and human eating dogs. It hadn't helped at all to find out that Dr. Brenner - papa - was killed by one of the creatures from the so called Upside Down. She felt somehow cheated. She hadn't particularly wanted to kill him herself, add more blood to her already dripping hands, but she wished she could have seen it, even if just to make sure the fucker had actually bitten the proverbial dust.

Passing her hand through her hair she spotted the blood on the sleeve and recalled the previous day and meeting police chief Hopper. Joining him in the tunnels beneath the pumpkin field, more or less with his knowledge and consent, and then the vines and the creature that attacked them. She was so accustomed to use her powers to get out of anything, but apparently those things - demodogs - felt pain differently. Or perhaps it was because of the hive mind. The pain was not dealt directly to the 'main' brain so it affected the host less. She let out an exasperated sigh, head resting backwards on the seat. It was insane, all of it!

Finding out about El had also been heartbreaking on its own, even if she never got to meet the girl before she had ran away. Hopper didn't, couldn't, understand what is was like to spend your life in a little square room and then being offered a glimpse of the world beyond. It was only a matter of time before the poor girl went to explore the glorious outside with all the restrictions he was putting up. His concern was understandable, his method not so much.

Eleven. There had been four more attempts after her. Four children kidnapped and their families destroyed. She didn't dare wonder too long on what those poor souls had been though, lest she'd be reminded of her own torment. But now that El was gone, Sandy thought her next move would be to find the girl, and maybe even the other three, if they were still alive. She knew for a fact that all the ones before her were long gone, but she hadn't been aware of the ones after. The MKUltra program hadn't died when she burned down the last lab, just redesigned itself. And apparently moved from torturing Soviet spies to opening portals to deadly dimensions of horrors. Fun!

She pressed her head to the steering wheel, exhaling slowly and closing her eyes. Which was a horrendous mistake. She jerked up the second after, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. It was so dark and quiet, almost too quiet. Was that normal silence or the dead stillness that foretold of evils lurking just out of sight, the calm before the storm? Her drumming heart was the only sound for the longest time, so loud she was sure it could be heard all the way to the fucking Upside Down. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a flash of light darted at the edge of her vision.

It turned out to be a car, a blue Camaro in fact. She watched Billy park the car right beside hers and give her a small nod, not opening the window or giving any sign he was going to move from his seat. If anything, he looked like he wanted to be left alone, which was pretty obvious by the choice of place and time.

There was a moment of calmness, his presence there, the normality he brought, chasing away the shadows in her head. But as soon as he turned off the headlights and they were plunged in a seemingly deeper darkness than before, her eyes started again to frantically search for threats behind the treeline. She kept looking his way as well, wondering if he would send her away if she jumped in the passenger seat of his Camaro or be up to relieve some tension with her. She didn't want to be alone, it was selfish, she knew. But at the same time, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to mind a meaningless one time fling. How many girls he must have charmed with that car alone, not to mention that ass?

When she spied that he was having trouble with his lighter Sandy didn't think twice as she opened the door and slipped into his car in one fast, fluid motion, like the night air could have been toxic. She passed him her own lighter as an excuse, but the small smile on his lips and raised brow showed he saw right through her tough girl act.

"Scared of the dark, are we?" He took the lighter nevertheless and she was happy he was letting her stay, even if it was for a little while.

"Of what could be lurking in it." He gave her a weird look, like he had been expecting more of her, despite not knowing anything about her, probably not even her name if Max hadn't told him. "Don't laugh, there had been some weird animal attacks in this stupid town."

Billy just stared at her for another second before turning to look ahead and taking one long drag from his cigar. He was tired and didn't have the energy to mock her for the childlike fear or her disheveled look. He had hoped she would have left after he returned the lighter, but the girl took a cigar out of his pack as well and was now smoking besides him in an odd, but comforting silence. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn't wanted to be alone, not after Neil's outburst and the pain in his ribs, but he had nowhere to run to, no friends to confide in and no one to tell him it will all be over soon, he just had to finish high-school. One more fucking year! In Cali at least he had his surfing and some 'friends' he could always count on to drink the pain away with without having to explain himself.

He eyed the girl again, trying to get his mind off of his home life. What was her deal? And more importantly, was she wearing no pants? His eyes trailed her exposed legs. They were barely visible in the moonlight, but the nasty looking burn mark on her thigh was standing out like a sore thumb. He had hoped he would have seen her in school, but Tommy H and Carol knew of no one with her description. It didn't help that he didn't even know her damn name. His brows furrowed, who was this stranger sitting in his car?

"Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Ask me nicely and maybe I will."

"It's only fair, you know mine."

"Ah, you're no fun..."

"I'm plenty of fun!"

"I bet you are." It was a half mock, half praise, the little smirk on her lips as she blew the smoke away as sinful as the glint in her eyes when she winked. It brought out his more flirtatious nature, the momentary anger turning into lust.

"Fine, don't tell me, doll." She scoffed, something between surprise and irritation, but she kept the playful demeanor, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Do I look like a doll to you?"

"It's all I got if you're not giving me your name." He raised his shoulders, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. He was quite proud of the nickname he gave the mystery girl. "Besides, it's on your registration plate, doll." He used it again, in hopes he'd make her give up her name. But the effect had been nothing of the sorts, her eves lighting up with mischief, eyebrows raised. He felt like she was in on some joke he had no clue about.

"Ah, so with just one 'L'?"

"Does it matter? It sounds all the same."

"But it doesn't mean the same!" She turned in her seat to fully face him, one leg carefully tucked beneath her. His eyes were drawn again to that burn mark, but her gleeful voice brought his attention back to her face. "Dol, D-O-L, is a unit measurement for pain. They use these instruments, dolorimeters - I know, funny name - to find out a person's pain sensitivity level when they apply steady pressure, or heat, or electrical stimulation to some areas of the body. Or even when they pop out a joint or break a bone. Crazy what scientist are doing these days."

Billy blinked a few times, slowly making sense of her word vomit. What the actual fuck? What kind of teenager knew these kind of things? And more importantly who on earth was so into it? He grimaced when his thoughts took him back to his father. Neil would have a field day with one of those dolori-something pain inducing instruments.

"You're weird."

"I'll take that as a compliment." She gave him a shit eating grin and for a moment he thought she was just messing with him. It was all an attempt at some lame joke, finding her there in the middle of the night, no pants, alone and flinching every time a sound came from outside the car, talking about torture devices. But her expression softened for a brief moment, the glee completely draining from her eyes before she turned her head to check the trees for what must have been the tenth time since she got in his Camaro. The question formed on his lips before he could decide if he even wanted to know or not.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Probably the same as you." She paused, and for a moment it didn't seem like she was going to continue. When she did though, her voice came out as more of a whisper. "Running away from my problems mostly. Trying to figure out what to do next. Things like that." Billy couldn't stop staring at her. Barely clothed, hair a wet mess. The little scar on her upper lip and burned flesh on her thigh. Skittish, her eyes checking for a threat to jump out of the trees. Was she in some kind of trouble? All he knew about her was the was 'just passing through'. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the dark rusty spots on her sleeve, the evidence piecing itself together in his head like a tragic puzzle, one he knew so well. Someone had done all that to her.

"So what brought you to Hawkins from beautiful Florida?"

"What brought you here from sunny California?" His initial concern was dimming, the girl's evasive responses getting old and tiring. He was curious, sure, but he wasn't going to pry if she wasn't comfortable to tell him. He knew how crucial it was to hide the truth, to keep it all in, buried as far from the light of day. All it ever brought was pity or judgement, none pleasant to experience.

"You don't give straight answers, do you?" She poked her tongue out at him in a childish manner before turning back to look at the forest. There was just no winning with this girl. He wasn't sure why the next words left his mouth, but he felt the blood boiling in his veins with each syllable, his fingers curling tightly around the steering wheel as if bracing for an impact. "I'm here instead of on a beach, because of my shitty dad and his wonderful new family." That seemed to get her attention though, her head snapping back to him. She seemed to weight her reply carefully, before finally speaking.

"I'm just passing through. Might actually leave sooner than expected…" He was surprised she changed the subject. Most people would have asked him to elaborate or worse, insist his life couldn't be so bad, give a motivational, positivity dripping monlogue, as if they knew anything about him. But she brought the discussion back to her and it kept his mind off the fact that sooner or later he had to head back to his own home, if he could even call it that anymore. Maybe Neil, Susan and Max would all be happier if he just… disappeared, packed up a bag and head out into the world.

"Going back home?"

"Don't actually have a home, I guess." His brows furrowed, jaw clenching slightly. Again with the evasive half answers. How could she not have a home? Was she an orphan? But even so, she would have been put in the system. Had she ran away? Was it like his 'home', a place where he went to sleep and eat, but with little else of the qualities usually attached to the word?

Sandy watched him as the frown took over his pretty boy face. She could see the cogs working in his brain trying to piece together the meaning and implication of her last sentence, and perhaps even preparing to bombard her with questions. But how could she ever explain she was born in a lab and raised by a crazy scientist who made her torture people for information? And what was it with his sudden interest in her non existent home? She turned to look at him straight in the eyes for the first time that night. She stared long and hard into his blues and reached with her mind and felt the pain he was hiding just beneath the surface. Her eyes fell to his torso, hand sticking out to graze the tender spot hidden by his shirt. He flinched, but she knew the pain never hit him from that little touch, nor when she flung her leg over unceremoniously to straddle him. Good thing she forgot to put on pants when she left.

"You want to talk shitty pasts or fuck till we forget our problems? Dealers choice." But she already knew the answer, his hands burning on her cold skin, trailing up her thighs. If she surprised him with her sudden move, he didn't show it. Perhaps he didn't really care, her desperate need for a distraction mirrored by his own. Meaningless sex was always a great way to keep our mind off pressing matters. He seemed to know that well, perhaps they were not so different.

Their lips met in a furry, neither sure who closed the space between them first and neither caring. They kissed, hard and desperate, just like she liked it, the sheer force leaving her lips throbbing. Sandy's hands puled his shirt out of his jeans hasty, the need to feel his skin against hers paramount to her very existence and broke the kiss for the briefest moment as it came over his head. Had it really been that long since she'd been with anybody? She couldn't remember, not with Billy's hands squeegeeing her ass and pulling her closer to him, grinding up towards her. She wasted little time, taking off her own shirt, the size of it allowing her to leave to buttoned up, before bringing her mouth back to his, her hands snaking around his neck and chests pressed together. His hands roamed on her back, fingertips digging in her skin, occasionally stopping to feel the length of a scar or another.

He was so wonderfully warm she melted into him, moaning into the kiss as she slowly started grinding into him. She felt him smirking, lips never parting further than to allow him to leave a trail of soppy kisses on her jawline and down her neck. One of his hands wound tight in the hair at the base of her neck, as his teeth sunk in the flesh just beside her pulse and Sand found herself smiling.

"Shit, stop with the teasing!" But he said nothing, only letting out a huff of acknowledgement, his plump lips still attached to that sweet spot where the neck met the shoulder. His other hand, once done with exploring, found one of her breasts. She let out a straggled moan, the air caught in her throat. She was dizzy, his warmth seeping into her her, intoxicating like a new drug. And to think he'd barely touched her. She wet her lower lip with her tongue, the thought of what was to come maddening. In her drunken state she almost begged. Almost. Two could play that game and she wasn't know to be fair.

The button and zipper of his jeans flew open before he realized. Billy gasped when her hand pressed none too gently over his dick, rubbing it through the soft fabric of his boxers. A part of him relished in the small pleasures of teasing her raw. The other part made him lift his hips when she struggled to push his jeans and boxers aside. His head flew backwards hitting the headrest as her fingers wrapped tightly around his freed cock, thumb pressing into the tip to smudge some of the precum. She pumped him with a steady, merciless grip, but it was her expression that made him give in, eyes dark with lust and a grin that knew she was going to get exactly what she wanted out of him.

He gripped her wrist and pinned it to her lower back while his other hand pushed her black panties aside, not bothering to fully take them off. She lifted herself just enough, shuddering when his fingers made a straight line from her collarbone all the way between her folds. Her hands resting on his shoulders for support. She was dripping wet, not that he was surprised. He slipped into her fast with one powerful thrust, sheeting his dick completely. She arched her back with a lewd moan, like a coil falling back to place. Billy rested his forehead above her breast, the heat and tightness of her pussy making his head spin.

"Fuck."

"Me." Her breath was hot on his ear, the hairs on his neck standing. "Hard!" She needn't say it twice. Both his hands found her waist to guide her, but the vixen knew what she was doing, her body undulating in time with his violent thrusts. He found he couldn't quite take his eyes off of her, the moonlight emphasizing all the right places. The curve of her neck as her head lolled back, lips parted, the little scar almost invisible if he didn't already know where to look. Her breasts bouncing in a hypnotic rhythm, nipples perky as they occasionally grazed his chest in the cramped space. And that sweet mage of his cock disappearing into her, her vulgar moans and slapping skin the only sounds filling the car.

Sandy tried to keep her eyes open, the image of Billy's taunt muscles and fully blown eyes imprinted on her retinas, but failed miserably when his fingers wrapped around her neck. She relished in the feelings instead, her skin tingling wherever his caressed, fondled or dug into. She cursed his jeans for only being lowered to his thighs, precious territory left unexplored. The steering wheel was pressing hard into her back, the ache in perfect contrast to the pleasure shooting up from between her thighs as Billy rammed into her viciously. She came hard, pure bliss passing through her in wave after wave making her quiver uncontrollably. Strong arms encased around her, grounding her in reality, as he somehow picked up the pace, his rhythm erratic. He spilled into her while she was still coming down her high, his head buried into the crook of her neck. They stood there for a moment longer, breaths ragged and bodies slick with sweat, her fingers twisting his damp hair around.

Sandy was the first to speak.

"Well hot damn, should have jumped you in that paring lot." He chuckled against her skin, the vibrations pleasant to her still sensitive body.

"Took the words right out of my mouth, doll." The corners of her mouth twisted into a sly smile and she untangled herself from him, his hands lingering on her until the last second. She regarded the completely fogged windows as she found her shirt and put it back on, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about the world outside that Camaro. Not yet at lest. She turned toward him, his almost sheepish expression endearing.

"I'll be in town for a coupe more days. Motel 6, room 13. Don't be a stranger." She pushed the door open and stepped into to cool night air, but passed him a final wink before getting into her own car. "Oh and, you can call me Sandy."

[logo-comics]

Hood Collection

I found myself wanting to illustrate the development of Miss Hood as a character, so here are the steps along the way from left to right, as well as The Cloaked Figure, all drawn in a complete replica of the style in which they were drawn, which is both similar and different. I might do the same for the rest of the heroes at some point. To begin, Miss Hood was not the original character design. As you can see, the original design went through some pretty drastic changes... To begin, the character on the whole was meant to be part of a comic that was intended to essentially poke fun at Watchmen and the concept of government-backed superhero teams. Strongman was supposed to be a superhero that had superstrength, flight, and I believe invulnerability, but, as a result of his already superhuman strength, he was never able to develop a workout regimen that was able to let him build up the muscle mass. He wound up getting scrapped after my first attempt to draw him led to him having his arms bending in a way that didn't look possible, so I had to design him from scratch for this, based on my style at the time. His hands look like blocks as a result, and he has a pair of sunglasses because I liked drawing those at the time. The hairstyle was the only one I knew how to draw at the time and he has no ears because I didn't draw any back then. The red cape is specifically because I wanted to make him match the group and he would have had no color otherwise. He is, incidentally, the only one of them with a face designed that isn't a mask Concept Art Miss Hood is the basis of all those who came after. a cross between cynical and childish, she had the exact same powers as Strongman, but was a small child. Armed with a scalpel and a handgun, her cloak was a neat and tidy cloak. Her mask was not the one that seemed to be her face at this point, as illustrated by the two black dots on her cheeks, which were to show where the strings on her mask were tied off, and the eyes of the mask were larger than they are/were in subsequent designs until Cloak. She was supposed to eventually go on to become Time Skip Miss Hood, who will be discussed when it gets to her. Original Comic Miss Hood was a much darker version of the character. With tiny pinpricks for eyes and a more streamlined scalpel and pistol, her personality could have been described as "supervillain that happens to be on the side of good" for just how dark I went in an attempt to go over-the-top. Honestly, she was just sorta evil, which is why I wound up creating characters to balance her out. Originally, that was going to be Sparky, since I'd already created him for a storyline involving her teammate Mr. Machine, but by virtue of his passively accepting nature, he just didn't do the trick. This led to the creation of Miss Fire, who was her spiritual opposite, a supervillain that was too good a person to be a villain. We'll get into that when we get to her evolving design. Also noteworthy for Original Comic Miss Hood is that her cape is ragged and messy on the bottom, which is a carryover from Time Skip Miss Hood. She is also the first Miss Hood design to not have the mask string dots and she was the one who I first wrote dialogue for, meaning she's the original rhymer of the set. Time Skip Miss Hood was meant to turn up when the original comic showed what happened years after the team would get let go in the original series. Unlike the others, she'd go back to her old ways, being an illegal private investigator, albeit one that was a lot more cynical after being cast aside in favor of a new team. She had a similar mask to the original Miss Hood, but she'd gotten rid of the skirt and replaced it with a belt. This was around the time that I'd started redesigning the hood, which is why it's covering her neck and has those two bits hanging down. It also has three tears on the bottom and a string hanging off so that it can look messy and worn. The belt is because it ties the costume together, and, as you can see, the mask still had the mask string dots. Finalized Miss Hood is the design that she has had ever since I made that choice. There were a couple steps in design for the collar, from a simple triangle to a bow, to the clasp-styled black amulet that it shows now. Currently a kid hero, but older and taller than her previous child incarnations, she's also got a different power-set from the rest. Where the others had superstrength and flight, her power is actually not either, properly speaking. Her power is the ability to manipulate the air, itself, which is how she flies and how she steers her bullets, among many, many other uses she has for the power. Her design is more birdlike, particularly in how I draw her movements, with the peak of her cowl meant to be reminiscent of a barn owl. She also tends to perch when she isn't hovering or flying. Her gun is fairly bulky and she lost the scalpel, as that became Miss Fire's weapon when I had her backstory changed. Finalized Miss Hood is also the only character or object to have that exact shade of red. Even her alternate forms do not have that particular red, using a red orange for their red. The Cloaked Figure, meanwhile, is literally just the cloak and the mask, with sleeves and gloves that turn up from time to time, because they are the combination of all versions of Miss Hood up to the Finalized version, from whom they takes the amulet. Their cloak, when made in Paint, is darker, but the style when drawn on paper is accomplished with the red orange combined with mahogany for the sake of giving it a rundown look, an affect that is made more apparent with the jagged base of the cloak and all of the stitches on the cloak. They have the powers of the versions that came before Finalized Miss Hood and the same weapons, but they has no body beneath the cloak because of the various designs.

[dlkardenal]

Behind the Scalpel #2 - Dar’s journey with cover design

Hey there, traveler!

Today I’d like to share a personal story concerning both the woes of being a writer, my mentality on self-publishing, and our current project. This is the story of how I created the cover for our WIP.

To tackle a few things heads up, I’m not a complete amateur when it comes to graphic design, however, I am only scraping the surface. I’ve never received any education in graphic design but it became a kind of guilty pleasure for me as soon as I found the magic of MS Paint, so I’ve got some years of self-education, reading up on the topic and long hours of just d*cking around with graphic software behind my back.

Given that, I’d only recommend doing the cover yourself if you know what you are doing or you don’t have any other options – me personally falling in the latter category. We are trying to self publish with little to no funds, to begin with, and thus have to make some tough decisions. One of them is the fact that we can’t afford to hire a professional cover designer, so I either do it myself or not at all. Since giving up is not an option, I decided to do it or die trying. Here’s how I did it.

Basically, I created the first version of the cover before we finished the first draft (not the first English draft, the first draft in our native tongue.) All I knew that it’s shaping up to be a desert fantasy, so I need something with that feeling. So as every newbie would, I hit up google, typed „desert fantasy art” and clicked images. I found a nice looking art, added a black border, slapped a title onto it and this is what arose from that witches’ brew of a design:

So, there are a couple of problems with this. First, it is boring. You look at it, admire the art for a splinter of a second, and go on about your business. Second, which keeps coming back, is the genre. This one looks like a Jane Austen romance when it should scream epic adventure and magic and stuff. The third problem was the method I acquired the art because Google Images is rarely a place to browse for royalty-free stuff you’d use on a book cover. But I was content with this for a while, shoved it into a folder on my laptop, and kept writing the book.

Months pass by and we both started to lose enthusiasm and needed something to fire us up once more. I remembered the rush of excitement when I designed the first cover, so I got on my trusted laptop to do it all over again – this time trying to follow the law and use royalty-free images. But learning from the first cover, I wanted to do something exciting, something someone would click on out of curiosity, so I started browsing digital artworks on Pinterest. This is actually good advice for anyone looking for inspiration – but inspiration only. Don’t go wildly right click-saving things from there, or you run into the royalty thing again.

What I found were fractals. If you’re not familiar with the term, fractal arts are procedurally generated, mostly geometrical images which look trippy as fuck and if an artist gives their personal touch, they can look spectacular. To give a great example, I searched for royalty-free (see? I’m smart :3 ) fractal images and found this:

As you can see it is really eye-catching and I haven’t seen this style used as cover before, so I thought I can make something different. I got to work, added shaded borders, and a more fancy title and created cover v2.0.

Way to go! But there were still problems with this. We realized that one of our strong suits as writers is painting a vibrant world that’s easy to imagine yourself into. By using a lot of different senses in the descriptions one could almost feel the heat of the desert, the cooling sea breeze from the port, or the smell of roasting shashlik – but this cover didn’t give off this vibe. It felt cold, brittle (hence the silver) so it still needed a few changes. That was pretty easy to fix, I just tampered with the color temperature and voile! Cover design v2.1 was born:

Now, this was hinting at the right vibe, it looked almost like a quicksand swallowing the title which was all nice and good, but this was about the time we run into a bit of advice we then saw everywhere – research the market. Now, dear readers, what the fuck does that mean? It took me a while to figure out, but what people mean by that is to go on Amazon or Barnes&Noble or wherever you satiate your bibliophile thirst and look at other successful book covers in your genre. So I did, browsed Amazon best-selling fantasy books for hours, and noticed a few trends. First, most fantasy books didn’t use a fancy font, those were mostly for romance novels. The second is, pretty much every fantasy (by that I mean the myriad of Brandon Sanderson, George R.R. Martin and Anthony Ryan books) used some kind of image in the middle instead of just the title. Armed with this knowledge I jumped back on GIMP and got to work once again.

Now it was looking more like the big names, an epic but simplistic font, a thing in the middle (in our case a two-headed viper bracelet, a piece of important jewelry from the book) and even a quote. Now was the time for me to send it to my taste-testers: my younger sisters, both book nerds in their own genre.

And they told me they liked the previous font better. They found the snake and the quote a nice touch, but the font was too bland. Because at this point I had no idea who to trust with advice, I rushed to correct it and come up with a new, better version combining those two elements. So after a bit of designing again, cover v2.3 got birthed into this shining world.

Looking fancy, eh? This was the time I learned how to create a golden text effect without photoshop (yeah, I forgot to mention, photoshop would eat up, chew, and spit out the 4 GB ram in my 6 years old laptop, so I use GIMP instead). This was almost perfection… almost. We were content with this for a few weeks, right before we ran into several niche fantasy covers we quite liked that were more on the simplistic side, with a dark background, a fancy title and a beautiful border frame. We thought if it caught our eyes, it would catch other people’s attention too, so the designing bug bit me again and I opened GIMP for the umpteenth time.

The idea was simple: create a black background with the fractal as a border, an artistic title and maybe some extra touches. This was the point we regressed back into the black and silver style because black and gold was too mainstream. It was more difficult to get right, but eventually I came up with this:

This time I was sure I hit perfection. It reminded me somewhat to Game of Thrones, it had two viper heads and a simplistic style. Around this time we found our first somewhat useful beta-readers, so I was brave enough to show them. The answer was in line with our reoccurring theme of being unable to paint a clear genre image: they thought it looked like a contemporary girl novel with some spooky snakes for a bizarre cavalcade effect. I’m gonna admit it, it felt like shit but being an author is about constant growth and learning from bitching beta-readers, so I decided to do some more research. I found a couple of useful resources, to be precise, a blogpost from Neha Yazmin (link here: https://nehayazmin.blogspot.com/2020/05/Book-cover-design-tips.html ) and a youtube video by Just Angus (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9SgJV8wGkcI). They’re both useful and entertaining, so go give them a look. We realized looking beautiful to us means nothing if people pick up the book and think about the wrong genre, thus they will be disappointed by the book by default. We had to make it look like an adventurous fantasy set in a magical desert, so I had to change my entire mindset.

I was browsing Pinterest one evening and found the magical looking Arabic calligraphy, precisely Take the Leap by Everitte Barbee. With a rush of enthusiasm, I grabbed the image and ran away with it, not thinking about some important things, and created this.

Now things were shaping up to be almost pitch-perfect. The font was fancy but fantasy-esque, the style was eye-catching but minimalistic, it screamed middle-eastern and it was unique. But remember the important things I shrugged off? One of them was the royalty-thing again. Turns out this image (or to be precise the ink and paper version of it) was already used in another book cover. Also, Arabic calligraphy uses words from the Quran. Now, I’m not a very religious person and I know next to nothing about Islamic religion. As much as I adore ancient Arabic aesthetics, I think it’s common courtesy to leave things you don’t understand a word of alone and not use them obliviously in commerce. But I believe I hit something on the head with this silhouette filled with fractal art, so I searched for some free stock images until I found what I was looking for. So, at the end of this surprisingly long wall of text about almost a year of redesigns and trial-and-error style approaches, I’ll leave you with our final cover (for now at least). I hope you found it entertaining and somewhat useful, if you have any questions or even critique, please, let me know in any way you prefer. Bah, it was nice to get this off my chest. Stay sharp, travelers!

Dar

 The current version of our cover:

[sm0rches]

Trouble in the Tropics (a Jane Bond story pt. 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

On an island somewhere in the Caribbean, one of the world's most cunning villainesses lounges—a stunningly beautiful woman in a white bikini who calls herself Ms. Blanche. Her secret resort is a small slice of paradise: dazzling waves tinted sapphire and turquoise gently hug its creamy shore, while a balmy breeze rustles the palm trees and the feathers of nesting gulls. She won it in a drinking match against a Hungarian prince and soon after had it redesigned to suit her needs. Though it was rather small, she somehow managed to have a great, white mansion of cubist design built on it, accompanied by a miniature waterfall for optimum relaxation.

The sun always shone on Pearl Island, yet there was a storm on its way nevertheless with Jane Bond and Esther Merald en route.

Steering their speedboat like a fine white steed, 007 stood proudly at the helm, her golden locks perfectly tousled in the salty wind. The sleeves of her silk blouse were rolled up,  displaying long arms and creamy skin, while her sunglasses glinted in the afternoon sunshine. Miss Merald stood behind her, dressed in a mint jumpsuit that billowed in the wind, her bare shoulders shining like smoky quartz gems.

The two cut a fierce and regal pair. Ms. Blanche could not help but smile gleefully as she watched them on the horizon. She lay on a chiffon sheet spread out in the sand, a white canopy over her to protect her delicate complexion. Two of her servants, Boris and Vlad, loomed over her in matching white suits, ready to tend to her every need.

When the speedboat came to rest on shore, Boris and Vlad drew their glocks, ready to defend their mistress, but she motioned for them to pause. She had no intention of killing her guests without letting them have a drink first.

The island was much too small to clandestinely sneak up on their target, and Jane knew Ms. Blanche was much too clever to not have some method of surveillance to prevent unwanted intruders. Thus, Jane proposed that they make no effort to arrive unnoticed.

It was a gamble, but Jane Bond was rather familiar with those. So it was with complete confidence that she ran towards Ms. Blanche, pulling out her Walther PPK. Esther followed close behind, providing an intimidating glare and emotional support (Jane often needed it).

When they reached her, Jane pointed her gun directly at Ms. Blanche’s face and said, “Don’t try anything funny, ma’am, or I will shoot.”

"Oh no, you've foiled my diabolical plan," Ms. Blanche sighed in response, taking a sip of her coconut cream cocktail with little alarm. It was obvious she was unconcerned about their sudden presence. In fact, judging by her subtle smirk, she seemed pleased to see them.

She rose from her reclined position and, after waving away her bodyguards and picking up the sheet, sauntered off in the direction of her mansion. Jane and Esther had no choice but to follow, albeit suspiciously.

The two had come across many fine residencies in their travels and had even lived in a few mansions in their day, but they could not help but be impressed by her extravagant (and somewhat peculiar) decor. True to her nature, everything---from the walls to the floor to the furniture---was blindingly white.

Except for, of course, the dead bodies lying in pools of blood in the kitchen.

"Mind the mess," Ms. Blanche said as she gestured towards the corpses. "I've been meaning to get the maid to clean those up."

"Absolutely marvelous," Esther said sarcastically as she gingerly avoided them, her cynicism masking her sudden urge to vomit. "It really adds some pizazz." She glanced over at her partner, hoping for an equally biting comment, but Jane was silently observing, deep in thought. She recalled the conversation she had hours earlier with Q, their quartermaster and computer extraordinaire. Because this was an unofficial mission, Q had to do some digging on the sly, and he had managed to find information about Ms. Blanche, also known as...

"Natalia Dorminov," Q said, showing a picture of the familiar woman on his laptop screen. "34 years of age and the daughter of a Russian crime lord and English baroness, so she obviously comes from affluent standing. She began training in ballet and gymnastics at age 4 and martial arts at age 8. She has been credited with over 30 kills."

"Acting as what? An assassin?"

"...She apparently has many temper tantrums."

"Does M know you're here?" Ms. Blanche asked curiously, disrupting Jane's flashback. When she was met with silence, she smiled wickedly. "Oh, someone's been very naughty indeed. If you died today, who would know? Who would come to retrieve your mangled bodies after I've fed you to the sharks---?"

"Natalia, my dear, what are you up to?" A new voice interrupted. An older woman appeared in the doorway, looking very out of place in a black turtleneck and black slacks. However, she held herself with an air of such confidence and intensity that Jane and Esther did not dare question her place there. Her blonde hair and blue eyes, which studied them critically from behind black-rimmed glasses, mirrored Ms. Blanche's so much so that it was no great surprise (at least to Jane) when Ms. Blanche frowned and said, "Mummy, I thought you were just leaving."

“Mummy?” Esther’s eyebrows flew heavenward.

Ms. Blanche’s mother smiled, amused by Esther’s response. She waltzed into the room, going into the kitchen (paying little heed to the corpses) to pour herself a glass of red wine. “I was planning on it, but I thought you could introduce me to your new friends first.”

Esther was too dumbfounded to respond, but Jane, ever charming, stepped forward and extended her hand. When she took it, Jane bowed slightly and brought the woman’s hand to her lips, saying, “Baroness Gillian van Derson, I presume?”

Gillian van Derson’s smile widened. “Ah, you must be the chivalrous Jane Bond that my daughter adores. It’s a pleasure finally meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She turned to Esther, who had finally recovered from her shock. “This is my partner, Ms. Merald. Esther, this is---”

“Mummy dearest,” Ms. Blanche finished, wanting to be part of the conversation again. She was pouting slightly, having the attention not centered on her. “Who said she was just leaving.”

Gillian waved her hand dismissively, taking a sip of her wine and making herself comfortable on one of the white kitchen stools. “Nonsense. If I knew Ms. Bond would be here, I wouldn’t have made other plans.”

“But Daddy’s waiting for you in Moscow.”

“Your father can wait. The Russian opium trade won’t suddenly dissolve because I chose to postpone the meeting. I’ll let Maurice know to wait on bringing the helicopter.”

At the mention of the opium trade, Jane and Esther exchanged looks, reminded of their reason for being there. It appeared they would need to apprehend two villains today instead of one.

Twenty minutes later, when they found themselves strapped to lab tables in a white room full of scary torture devices and glinting medical instruments, this proved to be a more daunting task than they were expecting.

Gillian, who had taken on a much more frightening expression, stood over them, her wine glass in one hand and a silver scalpel in the other. Her daughter, having done most of the dirty work, sat, disheveled and bruised on the counter near Jane’s feet. “That wasn’t fun at all. I broke a nail,” she mourned, examining a silver stub on her index finger.

“How unfortunate.” Agent 007 was of ill humor, having lost the fight. Natalia Dorminov proved to be very spry, and even though she initially had her at gun point, Gillian intervened by threatening to decapitate Esther, thus forcing Jane to withdraw.

“Now don’t be sour,” Gillian said with a smirk. “If it’s any consolation, I will have great fun dissecting your brains. You will contribute much to science.”

“Now now, Mummy,” Ms. Blanche protested. “You can’t kill that one. She’s mine.”

“I’m afraid you’re horribly mistaken, Ms. Blanche.” Jane raised an eyebrow. “The only woman I pledge allegiance to is the Queen.” And with a dramatic flourish, she broke her bonds and magnificently kicked Ms. Blanche off the table.

Ms. Blanche let out a shriek, and Gillian raised her hand, preparing to slice Esther open in response to Jane’s defiance, but Jane managed to wrangle the scalpel out of the mad scientist’s hand and free her friend.

Two gunshots and three karate chops later, the pair had escaped the white house of horror and were sprinting towards their speedboat. They had barely managed to escape with their skins, much less with the Baroness and her criminal mastermind daughter in captivity.

Bringing Gillian van Derson and Ms. Blanche would be a mission for another day. Until then, the cat and mouse game continued. But such is life for the daring 007 and her trusty colleague, Ms. Merald.

---

Gillian van Derson was of course modeled after Gillian Anderson (thanks @vavaharrison for the idea!). Sorry the ending was rushed :/

[privateplates4u]

VW Polo GTI 2018 review – finally worthy of those three letters?

For  Impressive mid-range grunt, competent daily driver Against  Handling is one-dimensional, adept, but not exciting VW's Polo GTI is a polished and capable, but lack intensity compared to rivals and playfulness of the bigger Golf GTI The Polo GTI has always found itself in somewhat of a predicament. Designed as a grown up, mature supermini in standard form, the Polo GTI has never really found favour with enthusiasts thanks to this underlying conservatism. Repeatedly unable to capture the larger Golf GTI’s effervescence, the new Polo GTI has been redesigned from the ground up to achieve this goal, and is closer than ever to its talented bigger brother. But can it capture the Golf GTI’s magic, or will it fall into the same ‘must try harder’ category as previous versions? Visually, the Polo is not off to a great start. The now five-door-only bodywork, shared with the standard car, is over-complex and looks more like a demonstration of VW’s latest metal stamping techniques than an actual production car. Combined with mundane front and rear fascias, even the GTI’s trademark design cues like the honeycomb grille and red highlights struggle to lift the Polo GTI above indistinct. Compared to its wide-stanced PSA rivals, and the aggressive new Fiesta ST, the Polo’s lack of visual pizzazz is not surprising, but not any less underwhelming. > Click here for our review of the Peugeot 208 GTi by Peugeot Sport Under the skin, however, the new Polo GTI has made a much better fist of aping its big brother. Now based on a similar, albeit simplified chassis, sharing the same excellent EA888 turbocharged four-cylinder engine, and the standard Golf GTI’s XDS electronic front diff, have these new ingredients finally given the Polo GTI the tools to offer a Golf GTI experience at a lower price point? Well, yes, and no. Image 2 of 54 Image 2 of 54 Performance and 0-60 time > competitive on-paper figures and flat power and torque curves correlate to a muscular feeling on the road Engine and gearbox > the trade-off being a hesitation to rev. Gearbox is typically polished, manual cars aren’t due till Q4 of 2018 Ride and handling > Entertaining enough at road speeds, but it’s a little one-dimensional as the pace rises MPG and running costs > near 50mpg on paper doesn’t correlate to real-world usage, as with all performance cars, admittedly Interior and tech > solid, ergonomically sound and functional, GTI elements brighten up the practical, but still dull standard interior Design > the exterior GTI addenda is less successful at portraying what’s under the skin. Looks more like a high-spec Polo than proper GTI Image 6 of 54 Image 6 of 54 Prices, specs and rivals The new sixth generation Polo GTI is currently available in two models – basic GTI and GTI Plus. If you were hoping that the Plus would bring with it similar goodies to the Golf GTI Performance, though, you’ll be disappointed, as there are no technical upgrades, just added levels of equipment. As standard, all the usual GTI goodies apply, including tartan sports seats, 17-inch wheels, twin chromed exhaust pipes and a subtle, but still obvious, rear wing. Plus models add adaptive cruise control, LED headlights, Volkswagen’s digital dial pack and heated and folding mirrors. Both models are available with options like larger 18-inch wheels, sunroof and an upgraded infotainment system with embedded satnav if you wish to further bolster the Polo’s standard equipment. Prices for the basic car start at just over £21,000, with the Plus model representing a £1500 jump. > Click here for our review of the Toyota Yaris GRMN The supermini hot hatch class is in a state of transition at the moment, and is likely to change in the very near future, with Volkswagen’s arch nemesis, the Ford Fiesta ST, moments away from its release in the UK. Judging by the new standard Fiesta, we’re expecting it to be quite the entertainer, too, not leaving the Polo GTI any room to rest on its laurels. Peugeot’s 208 GTi by Peugeot Sport has also been a firm evo favourite for the last couple of years, offering a far more dynamic driving experience than most rivals, dominated by its rev-happy 1.6-litre turbocharged four-cylinder engine and scalpel-like front end. But the Peugeot is not much longer for this world, with an all-new 208 range due to be revealed at the Paris motor show later this year. The typically polished Mini Cooper S is also a constant threat, offering a similar combination of a 2-litre turbocharged engine and dual-clutch gearbox in its recently facelifted guise. The Mini is a slightly more expensive car, though, and to match the equipment levels of the Polo, especially in Plus form, the cost discrepancy increases as its tempting options list is raided. Toyota’s Yaris GRMN is also a more expensive and decidedly aggressive offering... if you can get your hands on one, which you can’t. Image 31 of 54 Image 31 of 54 Performance and 0-60 time VW claims the DSG-equipped Polo will rattle off the 0-62mph sprint in just 6.7sec. Yet, while it feels as fast as the numbers suggest when going all out, it never feels quite as quick as its torque figure and relatively low 1355kg kerb weight suggests. There’s plenty of muscle at low speeds, but the delivery goes a little flat in the mid-range – it feels as if the car’s potential is being deliberately reined in so as not to tread on the toes of the Golf – although this reluctance could also be explained by the tall intermediate gears. Incidentally, both power and performance figures are identical to the incoming Fiesta ST, despite its lack of 500cc and a cylinder. Image 28 of 54 Image 28 of 54 Engine and gearbox You could definitely say the ears of the evo office pricked up when we heard the new Polo GTI would finally be fitted with a proper GTI engine. Unlike the previous generation car, which offered both the 1.4 twincharged four-cylinder engine (which sounded much better on paper than it was in reality) and later the 1.8-litre TSI engine, this new car features the well-proven, torque-rich EA888 from the Golf GTI. Producing 197bhp at between 4400 and 6000rpm, and 236lb ft of torque from 1500 to 4400rpm, the Polo offers an identical power output to the Mk5 Golf GTI, and even more torque. For the moment, the Polo is only available in the UK with a six-speed DSG dual-clutch gearbox, with paddles mounted behind the steering wheel. A manual gearbox is due in late 2018, says Volkswagen. The gearbox itself is typical VW, with an inherent slickness to gear changes and excellent response from the paddles. Town driving is not the transmission’s forte though, as it will often lurch between gears and hesitate when pulling away. As the road opens up, though, the Polo’s DSG makes more sense, slipping between gears and shifting with an alacrity missing in most mainstream rivals. > Click here for our review of the Toyota Yaris GRMN There is one caveat to the gearbox, however; it has an inherent lack of drama. It seems to go about its business without any real urgency; the shifts, although quick, have none of the pomp and circumstance of the Golf, even when pressing on. The effect is yet one more element that seems to have come from VW’s vast collection of components, rather than being one specifically engineered for this application. Image 3 of 54 Image 3 of 54 The 2-litre turbocharged engine also has its weaknesses, as although it shares an engine code with some very talented hot hatchbacks, the Polo’s flat torque curve leaves the engine feeling a little breathless and lacking any real enthusiasm for the upper third of the rev range, a defining character in rivals like the Peugeot. As a result, the engine feels flexible, rather than enthusiastic, effective, but not very GTI. Ride and handling VW has made some big noises about the Polo GTI’s ‘playfulness’. With the larger Golf being pushed upmarket, the field is left clear for VW to deliver a more fun hot hatch. Certainly the Polo’s compact external dimensions (I say ‘compact’, it’s actually larger than a Golf MK4 in every dimension other than length), low weight and big engine should make for a genuinely entertaining package. Initial impressions are good, because like its big brother, the Polo benefits from slick and naturally weighted steering, almost perfect control weights and a taut yet controlled ride – on our Sport Select-equipped car, at least. Push harder and there’s strong bite from the front tyres and a definite sense that the rear axle is taking its share of the load, and on the smooth and snaking roads of our Spanish test route the VW felt planted and poised. Like the Golf, it covers ground quickly, with an almost clinical precision. And therein lies the problem. Once you’ve tackled a few corners you’ve pretty much got the measure of the Polo. The steering is quick and precise but there’s only the bare minimum of feedback, while that grippy chassis doesn’t want to get expressive. Lifting the throttle will tighten the car’s line, but there’s no sense of the puppy-like agility you get in the 208 GTi.  Image 4 of 54 Image 4 of 54 The XDS ‘differential’ is also no substitute for the real thing. Torque vectoring means there’s plenty of grip when you turn in, but with the ESP in its halfway house Sport setting (you can’t turn the systems off completely) the inside wheel simply spins power away out of slower turns. Selecting Sport sharpens the throttle, adds artificial weight to the steering and fractionally firms up the dampers, but the Polo’s benign character remains. It’s an effective way of getting from A to B quickly, but not a thrilling one. Take things easy and the GTI is a normal Polo, which means it’s comfortable, refined, roomy and easy to drive – few superminis are as simple to live with. MPG and running costs Volkswagen claims the Polo will sip fuel at a rate of 48mpg when driven on the combined cycle, however like most turbocharged engines it will consume significantly more when driven with enthusiasm. Image 41 of 54 Image 41 of 54 Interior and tech Thanks to the new Polo’s substantial growth in width, space inside feels far more generous than most superminis, feeling well screwed together, without being too grown up. The GTI bits are crucial to this, as the usual appearance of tartan seats and red stitching, augmented with new elements like the giant slab of red plastic stretched across the dashboard, help lift the otherwise dull interior. The seats are near perfect, comfortable and supportive, having enough lateral support without resorting to supersized bolsters that restrict access. The GTI’s excellent steering wheel also adds to this sense of sportiness, as although we aren’t particularly fond of flat-bottomed wheels, the smooth leather and perfect grips help lift the GTI’s interior over mainstream Polos. It would be nice to have some more substantial paddle shifters behind the wheel, but they feel reasonably solid and are an acceptable trade-off for their quick-witted responses as compared to other dual-clutch gearbox supermini hot hatches, whose paddles look good but are slow to respond (looking at you, Renault Sport Clio). Image 30 of 54 Image 30 of 54 In typical VW style, though, all the touch points are almost perfect. The driving position is near spot-on, unlike many superminis, with plenty of adjustment in the steering and seating positions. The high-mounted infotainment system is also placed in exactly the right position, close to the driver’s eye-line without looking like an afterthought like most floating screens. Beside which, Plus cars are fitted with VW’s Active Info display, a screen replacing the traditional dials. These screens are becoming increasingly in vogue, but its use in a supermini definitely gives the Polo GTI’s interior a distinct USP, although it’s not quite as high resolution as the Golf. Design Volkswagen has done something remarkable with the new Polo. Despite a completely new platform, the new Polo looks almost identical to its predecessor. Sure, look closely at the details and you’ll notice that the bodywork is more complex, the lighting units heavily faceted, but whether by accident or design, a step forward into the future, the Polo’s design is not. All the GTI paraphernalia is correct and present, though, with liberal use of red highlights on the brakes, badging and the iconic red stripe across the front bumper. Like the Golf, the Polo GTI’s headlights are also bespoke, that red line extending into the lighting unit itself. As is the usual GTI way, the Polo is grown up, purposeful, but not too obvious, a perfectly formed metaphor about the way the Polo GTI drives. Spec wisely and the Polo GTI will easily slip past unnoticed. Whether that’s what you want in a hot hatchback, however, is something to be considered. Image 5 of 54 Image 5 of 54 20 Apr 2018

http://www.evo.co.uk/volkswagen/polo-gti