I looked, and there was sort of a dystopian (awesome) art thread, but I didn't see exactly what I was on about.
Sure it's juvenile. Fun, though.
I looked, and there was sort of a dystopian (awesome) art thread, but I didn't see exactly what I was on about.
Sure it's juvenile. Fun, though.
Not a cyberpunk car, but the Cyberpunk car. This is the protagonists car from upcoming game Cyberpunk 2077. Looks like it is rear-engine with twin turbos, the Quadra badge hints at AWD and what size are those rear tires? P455/20ZR20?!
I love this sort of E36 M3. Khyzyl Saleem makes awesome renders of this kind of stuff. I'd love to try and bring one of his creations to life, although I feel like you wouldn't be able to capture that certain spark that his renders have
Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
The guy at the Challenge hit pretty close to this:
A lot of stuff labeled bosozuku hits near the mark, without having 4' zoomies out the back.
Then again, a lot of the bosozuku stuff is crap. (danger, opinion!)
wheelsmithy said:
Now that is something I can see someone actually building, and I hope someone does.
Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Good question.
wheelsmithy said:Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Good question.
I dunno either but I live pretty close to the tire rack warehouse so if you guys need me to go clear out the zombies let me know.
In the post-apocayptic world, you can all have your stanced cars that can't even drive over a dead zombie body......
something like this seems more appropriate :)
wheelsmithy said:Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Good question.
Coker, I assume.
Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Cyberpunk != post-apocalyptic. Cyberpunk (at least, back when the term was coined and it was all about Sterling and Gibson and friends) was the life at street level once the rate of technological change had gone exponential. So you'd get vehicles that had things patched on - scanners, anti-theft, performance. For example, Mona Lisa Overdrive features an armored hovercraft. Not a flying car, it had skirts and was (IIRC) turbine powered with the autodrive torn out. Epoxy always featured strongly, and lack of manufacturing was not a problem. And of course there were the vehicles of the elite, which were aggressively armored and usually quite sleek.
Then there's some video game that seems to have taken their own definition :)
As for cyberpunk vehicles, I can't believe this has been left off so far.
In reply to Keith Tanner :
I'm trying to purge that abomination from my mind. Yuck.
Keith Tanner said:Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Dude, we're talking cyber punk here, we're not talking about non feasible sci-fi jokes!
Adrian_Thompson said:Who will be making tires in a post apocalyptic world?
Tires? No, too old school. Home made studded rims, nano tech tracks, Tweels!
Oooh smart tweels that can change shape at will. Think the nano tech Iron man used in End Game.
Do the Hong Norrth MX3s count?
Scavenged parts from all sorts of odd sources, gutted interiors with lots of custom made circuit boards, and massive amounts of gratuitous blinky lights!
RevRico said:Tires? No, too old school. Home made studded rims, nano tech tracks, Tweels!
Oooh smart tweels that can change shape at will.
Not sure if these have shown up in cyberpunk movies, but they've definitely appeared in print. "Avoid getting Midasized - get a set of SmartWheels today!"
The vehicles featured in West World would probably fit.
Keith Tanner said:As for cyberpunk vehicles, I can't believe this has been left off so far.
MadScientistMatt said:RevRico said:Tires? No, too old school. Home made studded rims, nano tech tracks, Tweels!
Oooh smart tweels that can change shape at will.
Not sure if these have shown up in cyberpunk movies, but they've definitely appeared in print. "Avoid getting Midasized - get a set of SmartWheels today!"
I always liked SmartWheels. All you need is processing power and it's possible. IIRC they showed up on both skateboards and motorcycles in Snow Crash. Other vehicles were a motorcycle with a nuclear sidecar, a kayak, at least one limo and of course - the Deliverator's ride.
The Deliverator's car has enough potential energy packed into its batteries to fire a pound of bacon into the asteroid Belt. Unlike a bimbo box or a Burb beater, the Deliverator's car unloads that power through gaping, gleaming, polished sphincters. When the Deiverator puts the hammer down, E36 M3 happens. You want to talk contact patches? Your car's tires have tiny contact patches, talk to the asphalt in four places the size of your tongue. The Deliverator's car has big sticky tires with contact patches the size of a fat lady's thighs. The Deliverator is in touch with the road, starts like a bad day, stops on a peseta.
....
His car is an invisible black lozenge, just a dark place that reflects the tunnel of franchise signs-the loglo. A row of orange lights burbles and chums across the front, where the grille would be if this were an air-breathing car. The orange light looks like a gasoline fire. It comes in through people's rear windows, bounces off their rearview mirrors, projects a fiery mask across their eyes, reaches into their subconscious, and unearths terrible fears of being pinned, fully conscious, under a detonating gas tank, makes them want to pull over and let the Deliverator overtake them in his black chariot of pepperoni fire.
I was wrong, the hovercraft I had in mind was from Count Zero. Here are some cyberpunk cars for you, owned by a loony techy recluse who's got some survivalist in him.So it's a little more post-apocalyptic, but there's big money and production out there as well. I'll see what I can find for those, you guys are going to send me down the rabbit hole again and I'm not going to come out for a while...
Rudy’s eight vehicles were filmed with dew, arranged in a neat row on the gravel One of the augmented hounds trotted through the open gate as Turner came down the steps, its black hood clicking softly in the morning quiet. It paused, drooling, swayed its distorted head from side to side, then scrambled across the gravel and out of sight, around the corner of the porch.
Turner paused by the hood of a dull brown Suzuki Jeep, a hydrogen-cell conversion Rudy would have done the work himself, Four-wheel drive, big tires with off-road lugs crusted in pale dry river mud. Small, slow, reliable, not much use on the road.
He passed two rust-flecked Honda sedans, identical, same year and model. Rudy would be ripping one for parts from the other; neither would be running. He grinned absently at the immaculate brown and tan paintwork on the 1949 Chevrolet van, remembering the rusted shell Rudy had hauled home from Arkansas on a rented flatbed. The thing still ran on gasoline, the inner surfaces of its engine likely as spotless as the hand-rubbed chocolate lacquer of its fenders.
There was half of a Dornier ground-effect plane, under gray plastic tarps, and then a wasplike black Suzuki racing bike on a homemade trailer. He wondered how long it had been since Rudy had done any serious racing. There was a snowmobile under another tarp, an old one, next to the bike trailer. And then the stained gray hovercraft, surplus from the war, a squat wedge of armored steel that smelled of the kerosene its turbine burned, its mesh-reinforced apron bag slack on the gravel. Its windows were narrow slits of thick, high-impact plastic. There were Ohio plates bolted to the thing’s ram-like bumpers. They were current. “I can see what you’re thinking,” Sally said, and he turned to see her at the porch rail with the pot of steaming coffee in her hand. “Rudy says, if it can’t get over something, it can anyway get through it.”
‘Is it fast?” Touching the hover’s armored flank.
“Sure, but you’ll need a new spine after about an hour.”
“How about the law?”
“Can’t much say they like the way it looks, but it’s certified street-legal. No law against armor that I know of.”
...
Turner put the key in the ignition and fired up the turbine, simultaneously inflating the apron bag. Through the narrow window at his side, he saw Rudy and Sally back quickly away from the hover, the hound cowering and snapping at the noise of the turbine. The pedals and hand controls were oversized, designed to permit ease of operation for a driver wearing a radiation suit.
...
Sally had been right about the thing’s ride; there was constant vibration from the turbine. At ninety kilometers per hour, on the skewed asphalt of the old state highway, it shook their teeth. The armored apron bag rode the broken surfaces heavily; the skim effect of a civilian sport model would only be possible on a perfectly smooth, flat surface.
...
Turner found himself liking it, though You pointed, eased back the throttle, and you went. Someone had hung a pair of pink sun-faded foam dice above the forward vision-slit, and the whine of the turbine was a solid thing behind him.
moar plz
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