In the thread "[Story][Season 0] Technology Exchange", Ace Dreamer asked:

Quote:Are most of the people in active service with the 'Sammies' biomods (via their special handwavium)? So, strong and athletic and generally female? With the odd strong and athletic tuxedo-clad male, mostly in a supporting role?

Prior to SOS-Con, close to the end of Season Zero, what would you do if you'd collected a load of reivers who'd tried to kill and/or kidnapp and/or rob you?  (Add hi-jacking and rape threats to your taste.)
Where would you go in Fenspace and who would you ask for help?
And, who might be prepared to help you get information out of them, with minimum bending of the Geneva Convention?
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind

Loss Management - 25/Jul/2012
September 2011, Dublin.
Dave Mathers.  Barking mad.  AI genius.  Occultist.  Sitting across the table from him.  Was Arthur mad?
*b-Beep* "Sorry, that's for me."  Mathers inspected his wrist, and a watch that looked more like a medical display, or maybe a colourful pie-chart.  He cocked his head to one side, apparently doing some sort of calculation, or maybe reciting a mantra.  Then, extracted a multi-layered pill box from his pocket, rotated it so the coloured bands matched the watch, and shook out a few pills.
"Cool!  Blue, I expected that, but, a brown as well?  Must have worked its way up."  He swallowed them, and Arthur held out a glass of water.  "Thanks!"
Mathers thought for a moment.  "It's all based on sound principles.  This" and he held-up the wrist display "measures my aura, and bio rhythms, and tells me what is needed to keep me in balance.  The pills, all natural herbal.  Some of them are placebos, but I've carefully forgotten which."
'No', thought Arthur, 'He wasn't mad.  Mathers was'.  "Thanks for making time for this consultancy.  I know you have a busy weekend."
Mathers winked and tapped the side of his nose.  "I know who arranged my lecture tour and workshops.  Yes, I appreciate the chance to visit Dublin, again, but I know how things work."
"Now.  What made you think you needed me?  Any problems with those discs I made-up for you?"  "No", replied Arthur, "but there are a couple of, maybe three, AI projects I wondered if you could help with..."
Arthur remembered his last visit to Kevin Wright.  He'd improved a great deal, but looked a little drawn.  Arthur had asked if he might be over-doing it.  Nurse Blake, in the background, as always, frowned at him.  As he was leaving she approached him, and snarled in his face, that Kevin's health was her concern, and no one else's.  He'd noticed, in an abstract way, that she was trembling - most of his attention was on the scalpel held, nearly out of sight, behind her back.
Arthur recounted the process by which Nurse Blake had come about.  "It's a bad idea designing an AI when you're angry", remarked Mathers.  "It's particularly bad when you're waving-up hardware for that AI to live in.  Sounds like you did both.  The only thing that's saved you so far is the anger originated in Love."
"Now, tell me about the other two..."
It'd been difficult, but they'd pinned Nurse Blake.  Kevin Wright had toured the production facility, and they'd managed to manoeuvre her into the grip of a power lifter.  She'd still bent metal.  Kevin remarked she'd been getting a little strange, just as loving and dutiful as ever to him, but increasingly touchy around others.
Mathers helped them install the simulation set-up on the company server, based on the "Metaverse" code Arthur'd been tinkering with.  They used the backups of Nurse Blake, and did several runs, projecting likely futures, with an early version of her watching.
Though not happy, as all the runs resulted in either Kevin getting hurt, her destruction, or both, she agreed to her current personality being adjusted.  It was agreed that they'd run the early version of her, at regular intervals, to monitor developments.  They hadn't really got anyone else who could be responsible.  Mather's said he'd forward a procedure to merge the early back into the current version, when she was happy with the situation.
Janet and Alice got a clean bill of health, though Mathers wasn't happy about Arthur's blood getting in Janet's handwavium; he mumbled about 'blood bond'.  Mathers spoke privately to Janet, and afterwards seemed satisfied.  For Alice he recommended several books on meditation, and that she take up Hatha Yoga, as she needed to work on her body consciousness, due to her 'Gaia link'.
The Lear Jet arrived, fully refurbished, and waved-up.  Apparently it ran on filk music, and needed "Caledonia Girls" (the 1983 advert version, not the modern one) at least every fifteen minutes, unless you just flew it as a normal jet.  Arthur and Rod went over every inch of it, and pronounced themselves satisfied.
Arthur took it out on a few test flights, spent two solid days in his workshop, then slept thirteen hours.  Only Alice knew what'd caused this, and she wasn't talking.  The day after, he filed a flight plan, and took-off.  The day after that Alice announced, tearfully, that he was "Gone", and, she didn't know where.
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind

Second Hand - 24/Jul/2012
August 2011, Dublin.
Looking back, Arthur thought most of what he'd dealt with was second-hand. Second-hand equipment, ideas, maybe even motivation.  He hadn't really planned anything, it'd more just happened, he'd responded to events.
Rod had rejoined them.  Finished college.  He had a job, of course, assistant production supervisor and senior laboratory technician.  Rod had filled-out a bit, but greasy food was still his bane.  He'd dropped-in occasionally, even during his course, but seemed a bit bemused at working with attractive women, such as Janet and Alice.  Arthur's secretary, Dana Lidzt, just terrified him.
He was interested in the company vehicles, and seemed a bit surprised all there were was a few Australian-waved vans.  Arthur cheered him up by saying they were waiting delivery of a double-decker bus, for multiple uses, and, Arthur had an ancient Lear Jet, which would, when refurbished, be prestige company transport.
Janet had managed to scrape together the hours to get her pilot license, so Arthur wasn't the only person (officially) with that skill, any more.  While he approved of that, for some reason Arthur felt a little hollow.  Neither Sarah or Kelly had visited, recently, and messages from Jane were terse, and suggested some sort of crisis was brewing.
Recently, he'd taken up Tai Chi.  He didn't really have the spare time, but, it was that or take-up gambling, again.  Something was... wrong.
These days, he was speaking to important Fen, and, there was a tone, an impression, that he really didn't like.  After a particularly good tai chi session, he realised it most reminded him of when he first got involved with handwavium.  But, that was a feeling of hope, possibilities, and this was anything but that.
So, he had two choices, retreat into his hole and try and pretend there was nothing wrong, maybe that he was having an early 'mid-life crisis', or try and figure it out, so he, or someone, could do something about it.  How?  He was impersonating a businessman, but he was really technical.  If this was a technical problem, how might he start solving it?
Elimination.  His life wasn't perfect, he had to get back in the dating scene, but he was pretty sure it wasn't that.  Eire, the world, was in a real financial mess, further confused by handwavium, but...  he didn't think it was the problem.  Near-Earth Fenspace, the Inner Solar System, again a bit of a mess, but basically OK.  That put the problem further out.
There were times he'd wished he'd paid more attention when he'd been forced to study History.  But, it never seemed to have much to do with real life.  Maybe he'd idealised the Fen, thought they knew what they were doing, had things basically under control?  What happened with Alice.  Now that looked like a sign, a hint; no matter how benevolent handwavium seemed to be, someone would try and exploit it, and not in a good way.
Back to his science fiction friends.  Few of them called themselves 'fen', or planned to 'go up'.  But, they seemed to think about things.  Yes, it might be second-hand knowledge, but, that'd done him pretty well, so far.
He was going to need to get ready...
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind

Service Sector - 22/Jul/2012
Late February 2011, Kandor City.
Slow start.  Steady business.  Happy investors.  Jan wasn't sure.  Was she suited for retail?  But, she was doing it.
Having six remotes helped.  Rarely were more than two required in the front office, the 'shop'.  That let the other four of her do other things, like research, poke around Kandor, read a book, or even day-dream.  Less stress than any of her memories of being Janet recalled.
Each of the other five remotes was a bit customised, from her base 'Jan', that looked just like Janet.  She guessed she'd have to come-up with names for all of them, but so far she'd just used "Jayon", "Jayto", "Jaytre", "Jayfor" and "Jayfi" - 'Jay?', 'Jen?', something different like 'Alex?'; it was hard to decide.  After all, they were all her, it was other people who might, would, get confused.
Seeing as she'd been wearing 'the product', 24/7, a few things had arisen.  It was truly a "Hollywood Spacesuit" - when the life support was active it somehow suppressed hunger, thirst and... toilet requirements.  This was OK for the couple of hours that the suit was rated for, but people'd better have multiple occupancy toilet facilities real near their airlocks.
Accessories had been an interesting area.  Redundant ear bud communicators were going nicely, as well as a medical monitor in the form of a throat band, echoed on a PDA wrist display, which doubled as a communicator.  She was offering extended life support, six hours, on top of the two hours the tool belts gave, with a PDA wrist communicator that warned of medical stress (including too long without food, water or a toilet break).
A 'Buy One Get One Free' offer had worked well on the tool belts, so people would have a spare, as well as one recharging.  Stuff always got broken or lost, and it would be bad if this happening to important parts of a space suit. Cleaning kits for both inside and outside of the suits went well, though there were clear 'dos and don'ts' in both the vacuum-proof paper and the electronic versions of the manual.
Further down the line, she guessed they'd offer active medical aids, though, acting as a franchise for a specialist might be better.  She wondered if anyone had come up with that science fiction drug which dropped you into a safe suspended animation state when its injector detected pretty certain death?  Hope you had friends who read your dog tags or medical bracelet, so they didn't just hold a funeral service.
There were, of course, 'requests'.  One lady couldn't see why she shouldn't have a matching suit for her handbag dog.  Jan did her best to hide her boggle, and suggested the lady custom-order a handbag that acted as a doggy spacesuit.  She left without buying anything, but seemed reasonably pleased.  A cat walked in and asked for a suit, and didn't seem surprised to hear their range didn't go that far.  Fortunately, that'd been about as weird as it got.
But, she'd heard there were Muppets, running a shop, somewhere near-by...
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind

Gym Class Heroes 'The Fighter'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxV-OOIamyk
Yeah!
Just wakin up in the morning
And the beat well
Quite honest with ya,
I ain't really sleep well
Ya ever feel like your train a thoughts been derailed?
That's when you press on. Lee nails.
Half the population's just waitin to see me fail
Yeah right, you're better off tryina freeze hell
Some of us do it for the females
And others do it for the retails
But I do it for the kids, life through the tower head on
Everytime you fall its only making your chin strong
And I'll be in your corner like Mick baby, til the end
Or when you hear the song from that big lady
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?
Chorus (Ryan Tedder):
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter
And if I can last thirty rounds
There's no reason you should ever have your head down
Six foot five, two hundred and twenty pounds
Hailing from rock bottom, loserville, nothing town
Text book version of the kid going nowhere fast
And now im yelling kiss my ass,
it's gonna take a couple right hooks a few left jabs
for you to recognize that you really aint got it bad
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?
Chorus (Ryan Tedder):
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter
Everybody put yo hands up
What we gonna do? (x7) ya'll
If you fall pick yourself up off the floor (get up)
And when your bones can't take no more
Just remember what you're here for
Cuz I know imma damn sure
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes a fighter, there goes a fighter
Here comes a fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me
Say to me, this one's a fighter
Till the referee rings the bell
Till both ya eyes start to swell
Till the crowd goes home,
What we gonna do kid?
inspirational song for the EVA step
*********************
Katie Perry 'Wide Awake'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0BWlvnBmIE
I'm wide awake (x3)
Yeah, I was in the dark
I was falling hard
With an open heart
I'm wide awake
How did I read the stars so wrong
I'm wide awake
And now it's clear to me
That everything you see
Ain't always what it seems
I'm wide awake
Yeah, I was dreaming for so long
I wish I knew then
What I know now
Wouldn't dive in
Wouldn't bow down
Gravity hurts
You made it so sweet
Till I woke up on
On the concrete
Falling from cloud 9
Crashing from the high
I'm letting go tonight
Yeah I'm
Falling from cloud 9
I'm wide awake
Not losing any sleep
Picked up every piece
And landed on my feet
I'm wide awake
Need nothing to complete myself noooooo
I'm wide awake
Yeah, I am born again
Outta the lion's den
I don't have to pretend
And it's too late
The story's over now, the end
I wish I knew then
What I know now
Wouldn't dive in
Wouldn't bow down
Gravity hurts
You made it so sweet
Till I woke up on
On the concrete
Falling from cloud 9
Crashing from the high
I'm letting go tonight (yeah, I'm letting go)
I'm falling from cloud 9
Thunder rumbling
Castles crumbling
I am trying to hold on
God knows that I tried
Seeing the bright side
But I'm not blind anymore
I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Yeah, I'm falling from cloud 9
Crashing from the high
You know I'm letting go tonight
I'm falling from cloud 9
I'm wide awake (x5)
Power idea: counter to sleep and /or illusion effects
___________________________
"I've always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific." - George Carlin

As requested, I'm giving this story it's own thread.  Unfortunately, I'm not going to be able to type up anything more on the story until Saturday at earliest, thanks to real-life concerns and the need to review the source material.

Location: The Deep Marches.  Time: 7:41 PM, July 10 2009

Amaterasu
sat on the edge of a mountain, wondering where Izanami had gone.  The
Goddess of Death had vanished one year ago, and neither hide nor hair of
her had been seen since.  Even the few contacts Amaterasu had in the
Media had not seen her.  It was not like Izanami to vanish into the
corpreal world...the yelling of a severant shook her out of her
thoughts.  "Amaterasu-Omikami!   Izanami has been spotted in the Vale of
Dreams, gravely wounded!" 
****
The
wounds were even worse Amaterasu had believed.  Countless minor wounds
covered her body, and a single terrible wound leaked Forces with every
movement.  It was clear Izanami would suffer a second and far more
permanent death.  "Izanami, who has wounded you so?!" 
"A mortal..."
"A
mere human did this!  Impossible!"  Maybe one of the stronger Ethereal
gods, a Demon Prince, or an Archangel could strike such a blow.  But no
lesser spirit, and certainly not an mere mortal.
"Mere!  Hah! 
This mortal was as far from mere as the heaven are above the earth." 
Even through her pain and horrific visage, the joy on her face was plain
to see.  Suddenly, Izanami grabbed the front of Amaterasu's robe. 
"Listen to me, my husband's daughter.  I have a tale to tell."  And
Izanami told her story.  She had sought to test humanity, to see the
truth of their nature.  She spoke how she had chosen three mortals; One
to be nothingness, one to be despair, and one to be hope.  She spoke of
how she had spun a web of illusions veiling truth; Nothingness had used
her web to kill, Despair tried to stop the deaths but with tricked by
Nothingness, while Hope had spread like wildfire, fouling the schemes of
Nothingness, while following the trail of clues first to Despair, then
to Nothingness...
And then past the false villain left by Izanami
to track the goddess to her hiding place, where Izanami had sought to
test the powers of Hope and his allies, magic gained by facing their own
unwelcome truths.  "They fought well, Amaterasu.  They forced me to
stop testing them and fight them in truth...I struck their leader with
my greatest illusion...but those he had helped guided him free of it,
and the power he gained as a result..."  She gestured to the wound. 
"Hope did not just win my contest, my husband's daughter.  It exceeded
my wildest dreams.  The pit will never win, Amaterasu, no matter how
convoluted their schemes.  Mortals will unravel them.  Break with Hell."
"Break
with Hell!  If we dare betray them, Nybbas will smother us!  He will
cut off the flow of Essence that keeps us all alive!"
"Nybbas
will lose, Amaterasu.  Eventually, mortals will pierce his illusions,
track him to his lair, and strike at him as the did me.  It is only a
matter of time."  With that, Izanami's forces were scattered fully. 
Only Amaterasu had heard her tale, and Izanami had not mentioned the
names of the mortals she tested, nor the town where she had tested
them.  Still, there was enough for her to investigate. 
****
Kulumah,
Djinn and Servitor of the Media, (aka Kensuke in his current role as a
security guard) was waited backstage for his assignment to arrive.  He
was assigned to the latest pop idol, some human named Rise  The idiot
hellsworn mortal that had previously been assigned to keep an eye on the
girl was currently being "reprimanded" for failing to keep tabs on the
girl when she had gone to ground in some backwater for a year.  Luckily,
the girl's agent had persuaded her to come back, and now Kulumah's
first assignment on earth was to keep track of the carbon-copy pop-star
and keep her singing until her fame faded.  Given the low number of
halo's working in the areas, it looked like an easy first assignment. 
He was also technically supposed to try to isolate and guide Risette
towards hell, but he had a favor or two he could call in to help there-
he was no master of temptation, and he knew it. 
An announcement
blared over the speakers. "Risette's due to arrive 2 minutes!  Get
ready people!"  The  various humans involved in this whole circus
doubled there flurry of activity, and Kulumah pulled a trick the Boss
himself had taught him before sending him to earth.  He burnt a bit of
essence to forge a link to the greater symphony, and with a whiff of
brimstone a phantom music began to play, a soundtrack to the movie that
was his life.  Dead useful for figuring out how much shit he was in at
any given moment, and great for avoiding surprises- nothing like a
dramatic sting to warn you of danger.  Casual essense use was frowned
upon, since it disturbed the Symphony and could lead rival demons- or
worse, angels- right to your doorstep, you'd practically have to be in
the room to here the disturbance he'd just caused, ao he was feeling
safe.  He cocked his head, listening to the soundtrack.  A quiet but
upbeat affair, with strings setting a rhythm and synthesizers a cheerful
beat.  Good news.  At long last, the human singer finally walked into
.  The human that was presumably in charge of this whole circus was by
her side in an instant, babbling about the song schedule.  Before the
mass of humans could obscure her, he willed his Symphony to hers, using
his resonance to forge a link through which he could keep track of the
girl, using another drop of Essence to bo.  But before he even tried,
his soundtrack had shifted- the strings had turned a minor key, turning
the tone from cheer to uneasey and tense.  A split second later, Kulumah
noticed Rise was looking straight at him.  The a split second later,
she turned away just a bit too quickly for it to be casual.   
Kulumah
was not a stupid demon; his sharp mind was why he'd been assigned to
earth despite barely being a half-century old, and it raced considering
the implications.  Any use of essence caused a disturbance in the
symphony, and given the change in the soundtrack he was pretty sure that
her sudden interest in him wasn't a couincidence.  He'd bet a weeks
worth of essence that the girl could hear the Symphony.  Most
symphonically aware humans were soldiers for Heaven or Hell, and she
certainly hadn't been Hellsworn last year, otherwise she wouldn't have
had a Hellsworn set to track her.  His superior's probably didn't know,
otherwise he'd have been told.  Put it all together, and it meant
someone had made her a soldier within the past year in the boonies.  The
question was, who was she serving now, and why?  Either some other
demon was horning in on his boss's territory, or the halo's were trying
to pull something.  He made a mental note to get to a tether and report
in soon.
***
Two weeks
later, and Kumulah fumed as Rise excitedly talked with group of
teenagers- friends from the boonies, apparently.  Rise had been going
out of her way to avoid him, and when he had called in a favor form
Maximilian, a local Impudite, to try and get up close to her, she'd
avoided him too.  Max had sworn up and down he hadn't spent a drop of
Essence, and he was decent chance he wasn't lying.  The newcomers had
him feeling paranoid; he was almost certain that one of them was either
the celestial that had recruited her, a messenger from the same, or
backup here to get rid of him.  The detective was certainly gruff enough
to be a Malachim.  In a sudden bout of paranoia, he activated the
soundtrack to see if there was an ambush waiting for him, sending a tiny
clamor of disturbance rippled through the symphony.  As one, Rise and
all eight of her "friends" turned to look right at him,
expressions wary, but eager.  Kulumah got the feeling he'd just blown a
dog whistle next to a wolf pack.  Crap.  He then noticed that he was
alone with the unfriendly teenage soldiers, outnumbered 8 to 1 with no
witnesses.  Double crap.  Then the punk with the headphones took out a
card and called up bizarre thing he could only see with his celestial
senses- which was possible, but not normal- shot a windstorm at his
face- which was also not normal- and did it all without disturbing the
symphony in the slightest- which was goddamn impossible. 
Faced
with nine empowered humans doing impossible crap, Kulumah did the
eminently sensible thing, and fled like a team of Malachim were on his
ass.   

Wright Suit - 24/Jul/2012
Early 2011, Dublin, Earth & Kandor City, Luna.
Uniforms-like suits that are high-quality, hard-wearing, and, most important, handwavium-free.  Custom-fitted.  Anyone can wave-up a space suit, but these are comfortable day-to-day wear.
Basic standard dull-grey model sells for $2k.  Ones customised for a particular organisation, with places to attach rank markings, for $3k.  And, top-of-the-line individually customised ones for $5k.  It is clear these are subsidising the basic ones.
They could be made for vacuum sports teams.  Specialist 'Search & Rescue' suits could be bright orange; no good reason could be thought of for bright pink.  Experiments on the suits can't (yet) find any suitable dye, or bleach, that doesn't also damage their space-worthiness.  They do fit men, though some might complain they're a little 'tight' (maybe they don't like the unisex styling?).
The suits are practical but stylish; they are not identical to the uniforms used on O'Neill Station, though the material looks very similar, and the function seems identical.  These are disguised spacesuits, with near-invisible gloves concealed in the cuffs, and a near-invisible bubble helmet that can inflate from the collar.
In use the gloves and helmet are near-invisible, except from certain angles.  The gloves provide excellent manipulative ability and good insulation, the helmet provides limited glare protection.  The suit allows full flexibility – acrobatics and martial arts are quite practical.
The shoulder pads conceal an air supply good for ten minutes.  An optional stylish tool-belt (one is supplied with the suit) gives two hours air (takes a day to recharge), CO2 scrubbers and humidity control.  The suit is self-sealing for small holes, and includes patches and tourniquets.  There is no waste disposal, manoeuvre jets or communications equipment fitted as standard.
The uniform is quite difficult to get dirty, inside or out, and is remarkably comfortable, with the modified sports-footwear giving excellent grip.  Yes, underwear is worn with it.  It is as protective as light body armour.
This is truly a "Hollywood Spacesuit" - when the life support is active it suppresses hunger, thirst and... toilet requirements.  This is OK for the couple of hours that the suit is rated for, but people'd better have multiple occupancy toilet facilities real near their airlocks.
The suit doesn't need recharging, it gets power from the movement of its wearer; the belts do need a power supply to recharge from ambient atmosphere and purge built-up CO2 and water.
Accessories include redundant ear bud communicators, as well as a medical monitor in the form of a throat band, echoed on a PDA wrist display, which doubles as a communicator.  There is extended life support, six hours (fits in the small of the back), which adds to the two hours the tool belts give (needs two hours to fully recharge), with a PDA wrist communicator that warns of medical stress (including too long without food, water or a toilet break).
A 'Buy One Get One Free' offer is on the tool belts, so people have a spare, as well as one recharging.  Stuff always get broken or lost, and it is bad if this happens to important parts of a space suit.  Swapping between three belts would give you six hours air.  If you plan on more than two hours vacuum work per day then the extended life support accessory is strongly recommended.
Cleaning kits for both inside and outside of the suits are available, though there are clear 'dos and don'ts' in both the vacuum-proof paper and the electronic versions of the manual (a normal washing machine is OK; don't dry-clean; often wet-wipes are sufficient).
Custom fitting involves either going to a store or supplying 'Blender' models (possibly plus attachments) in a number of standard postures.  There is no problem with provision for tails, ears, antennae, horns, digigrade, four arms, etc., but the limit is near-humanoid (centaurs or quadrupeds, or wings, aren't (currently) practical).
--
"It is the business of the future to be dangerous" - Hawkwind

As some of us are already aware, there's a "freebie challenge" each month on the Daz3D forums. I've been accepted as the host for the November challenge... which means I need to either create or scrounge some decent prizes for the challenge winners, and something small for all of the participants. And my time to learn the skills to create something before November is effectively zero. (I might manage a texture or two for somebody else's clothing item, but I can't even guarantee I'll have the time for that.) While I could buy some store gift certificates, that's not really in the spirit of the challenges... and it doesn't help me with the item(s) for all participants. I need some help.

Is there anybody interested in creating a freebie or two for me to give away to the winners, even something as small as the aforementioned "texture or two" for an existing free outfit?

There's no way I can afford to pay what it would be worth, although I wouldn't mind if you sold it or gave it away after Xmas. I will of course give credit where credit is due. It has to be usable in Daz Studio at a minimum. (They're hosting the contest; that's one of their rules.) It doesn't need to be something related to my month's challenge theme (which, BTW, is "Lest We Forget") - in fact, a December-themed freebie would work well for a November contest.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

this kind of hinges on the goods being delivered being the 'megaton leviathan ready to hit the roof' and perhaps a bit later 'steel in your hearts all across the land' whic might be a mishear of "stealin'," and if the collosus is actually 1000 tons probably takes at least a minute of the 4.16 to form and power up, and for that matter possibly an amplifier song first to let it be bigger than his usuall aoe or he only gets a dirigible fist or foot or head (useful as a bunker perhaps with it helmet design)etc
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows