Hoo, I'm here again!

Today, it is focused on the shaping of dynamic scenes, and it is still the usual habit, without any structural and emotional expansion, and only highlights the main brushwork and stylistic tonal characteristics in the description. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

There is no limit to the genre, because too strong imagination cannot be enslaved.

Section I

Pan a battle scene

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The tip of the spear moved, which was the boundary of the fifth square, and the shoulders of the little sea god were tilted, pouring countless schools of fish. In general, the engine of construction surged, the boiling water, and the scattered clouds soaked the body, and the little sea god felt the pressure of the will of creation, like black rock grains that lasted for a long time in the red dark sun. So, the arms swept away the airspace in front of him, the collarbone pressed down, and the muscles of the square became shaped, flowing towards the body, and the tip of the gun moved, which was the center of the second square, fifty kilometers.

After that, in the combat area from the fifth square to the first square, pull out a U-shape located on the horizon.

She stood at the bottom, panting, and proud that she had broken ground.

The landscape has been moved.

Five hundred km.

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Rotate the battle scene

"Catch!"

Under the blue sleeves, he grabbed the circle of iron chains under the rising sun, glanced at the moon in the west and swept the morning glow in the east, dizzy.

"Go up!"

Fire clouds emerged from both sides of the self-propelled boat, licking her face from left to right, and there was no hesitation or regret between the girl's feet.

The meteorite flakes were in shape, forcing the self-propelled boat to breathe and bend its forearms, and the red solute rubbed off two layers of skin, and it was top-heavy, and it twisted its flanks illegally.

The damage to the internal sealed cabin is the expansion of the hull and the non-linear trajectory.

"Go!"

Lan Tu muttered to himself, his limbs separated from the chains, suffocating and hanging upside down in the center of the canopy, throwing out the tips and lace iron sheets.

Centrifugal force.

Centripetal force.

The hand digs out the breath, the eye is sewn away by the air pressure, and the chest cavity is blurred and breathes. She saw the spherical surface of the world burst with her own teardrops.

The white cross opens its hand to show the bull's-eye.

Twenty-five meters, retracted her arms, the other party pulled her to hang on the guardrail and slid to the sky below, and the sluggish engine made a left-handed force to push and pull the two back to the cabin, turning back to the horizontal line palm.

The white cross spat on the ground.

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Peel-off dynamic scenes

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The field traction pulled out the engine line structure, crackling and pulling out colorful spark lines, surfaces, expanding air, and the combustion chamber was bare, and Luer leaned against the outer wall to compact all the high-pressure groups, unable to breathe.

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The Black King straightened up, pulling at the steel nails on the deck with his ten fingers and bursting, still showing her broken gums, squeezing out a wicked smile. The left foot fell into the heavy armor unit and reversed the waist for two seconds, unscrewed the bridge, tore open the barrel, spit out the armor cracker that was still in the inertial embrace, licked it, and looked like a diner who tasted the disaster in the eyes of the people, and felt the charm of mismatched engine oil.

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She reached into her ribcage, the valve holding the tip of her hand up and down, moaning.

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The elastic line unravels her eyeball exoskeleton, and the warm air measures the upper limit of the roar, until a painting of an unconscious flesh is pieced.

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Explosive dynamic testing

With a swing of the knife, blood draws huge flowers on the wall, and the sideburns hang down, and the poppies and spicy cherry blossoms bloom only for a few seconds.

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The warhead is not lethal in the first place, but only because the energy hanging around it reassembles the material structure.

I think it's a violent sculpture technique, a logical appreciation of shapes.

Behind the fibrous plexus were bloodshot and cerebral fluid, and there were tendons that were not left behind, hot and hot, and silent eyes.

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The theory of pendulum is connected.

"It's nothing more than a broken thing, an irregular radial track, when will there be something new?"

Put away the knife, the wrist is calling.

She ran and jumped like crazy, her throat bloody.

"The change in the state of matter is not as big as the threshold of emotion."

The misaligned shoulder blades pressed forward against the riotous skull and the mouth of the staff.

Even distorted the arc of light.

Believing that she was aware of the tactile sensation of her fist pressing into the man's face, she raised her hands and feet, and pointed the tip of her staff on the surface of her chest, drawing a perfect arc of dissolved lakes.

It is believed that they saw the catastrophe caused by a cannon, or...

A **** shaken out of the crater.

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High-speed cutting scene test

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The knife edge slides.

Look at those who are wrong, its owner is worthy of awe.

Twist the red string.

A little cold light could be seen through the hole in the jade bracelet.

I felt stuffy.

The knife is in the **** of my neck.

Walk over the surface of the earlobe.

Hard spit.

Different shapes of bodily fluids.

Childhood.

Coloration.

Deep night.

Dry lips.

Senhaya.

Guarding the Crane.

The knife is in mid-air, and the arm is inflated and retracted.

What am I talking about?

She just swayed the metal back and forth, like a still beauty doll.

Words are not things.

The knife is not a tongue of all tongues.

Break.

Stop.

Gaze.

Girl Juhe.

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"If I have another affair with her, I will no longer be sober. Hum! ”

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In mid-air.

There is light upstairs and dark downstairs.

The placket is soaked.

Opened both legs.

Hold your arms and waist first.

Potential energy transfer, bow body.

The lantern is cool red.

There is a shadow on the feet.

When the clothes fall on the body, you can look up.

The smashed archway splashed two-person high red dust.

The woman smiled.

I'm also cracked.

Helpless dust and color.

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Hue super-distance depiction test

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Pinch my face, disgusting!

A slap knocked the smile off his face.

I folded my legs and I struggled to bend over.

The smell of a perfume, swaggering somewhere in the Abyss Pavilion.

His sleeves were over my shoulders, unruly, and gray-white nylon and linen.

The two men pressed each other, the sheets were torn a lot, and the girl's arms were tattooed with red indentations, twisted, straight lines, and zigzag nails.

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Her skin was like the moon seen through the water, or the bewitching stars in the clouds, but fortunately it was touched indirectly. Suddenly, in the thick of the night, a sun burned—and she bit me, and with her lips and branches, mingled with the crow of the night.

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I panicked when I saw my palms sneaking into my skirts.

The subcutaneous veins were clear, and my thighs were yellow.

It's spicy...

The lust of the White Cross...

Burn me to the ground of my skeleton.