This is Gabrielle. She has an gun. *nodnod*
I've got to re-arrange everything a big, to help what little composition there is, but I have high hopes for this one =D
I'm gonna continue inking my arts on this laptop, but I may keep using photoshop on my desktop, because red looks like red on that monitor. (as opposed to orange) and black looks like black (as opposed to gray)
if that computer really does just shit all the rest of its bricks on me, then I'll see if i can plug in my monitor to the laptop (cuz i do believe that I can)
>>
And, because I can, here's the current "workspace" for one of my projects that'll never get done-
http://www.furaffinity.net/user/-sandman-/
It will, eventually, become a musical.
eventually.
And, last but not least, I'm gonna give you an excerpt from the script for one of my Graphic Novel Projects-
the working title is "Porta Custodis" but this'll probably change.
[Christmastime, in Storia, a small town surrounded by hills and farms- rocks, all the sort. It is cold, but not cloudy, too far north and not high enough in elevation to be snowy this time of year. The town is mostly wooden, with levels and basements, as well as tunnels beneath porches and between houses, for the children. Near Stephen’s house, there is a well, and by the well, elevated a bit, surrounded by a ring of stones, is the town’s Christmas tree, perched on the main platform. It is poorly lit, but there are children climbing on the rocks. Stephen is sitting on his porch with his wife, watching a little girl walk around the well.
Under his neighbor’s porch , a few kids are playing. Stephen stretches, and helps his wife up. He glances over at the children under the porch and calls to them, opening his door and allowing his wife into the house. He waits for the children to enter before he does. The door closes.]
[Underground. A train track runs over a dark lake. At either end there are tunnels, and scattered throughout are pillars and stalactites.
Stephen, cloaked, is standing at one end of the train tracks, just in front of the forward tunnel. His face is shadowed, and he is frowning, his eyes glinting from underneath his hood. Across the tunnel is an escapee soul. Crouched and hissing. It breaks into a sprint along the tracks, directly toward Stephen. He braces himself, eyes narrowed, and hands held out to meet the other.
The soul leaps into the air at the last second, and Stephen jumps to meet it, landing a kick square along the escaped soul’s jaw.]
Stephen: [Snarling] You can’t just “leave.”
[The soul hisses, thrown off into the lake.
Stephen floats gently above the height of the train tunnel, alert.
The soul grabs the edge of the bridge below and launches itself at Stephen, pummeling the man in the side. Stephen grabs behind the being’s head, using the momentum from the tackle to swing the soul into the rocky wall of the cavern.]
Stephen: You think you can best me that easily? [He growls.] I’ve been doing this my whole damned life, and I will Not be retiring any time soon!
Escaped Soul: [Hissing.] There’s a first time for everything, Old Man. [It plants its feet against the cold stone and pushes off, darting upwards and into the shadows of the cavern’s ceiling. In the far tunnel, a train whistle is heard.
Stephen dives back down to the exit he had been guarding before, his hands pressed lightly against the top of the tunnel and his feet dangling about midway down the opening. A single light appears in the far tunnel, and the train blows its whistle again. The passenger engine bursts from the far tunnel and out over the lake. As the end comes into view, a shadow drops onto the last car, hanging onto the railing about the end tightly.
And at the last second, Stephen flips upwards and out of the way, braced against the cavern’s stone walls, inches away from the top of the speeding locomotive. He leaps off as the train comes to an end, diving down and kicking the soul from the train.]
Stephen: [Pinning the creature to the tracks.] You really. . . Really think you could get past me? [The soul snarls, struggling against the weight of the man. Stephen frowns and grabs the soul roughly about the scruff of its neck, dragging it back down the tunnel the train had come from.]
[Morning. Blue light is filtering in through the windows. Stephen kisses his wife’s cheek, rolls out of bed, and stretches. He cleans up, changes into his work clothes, grabs his work bag, and leaves the house, walking down the street toward the school
The key slides into the lock, and Stephen opens the door into the dusty light, going to place his books on his desk and set up for the day. He begins to whistle while he works, scratching something onto the blackboard and moving to open the blinds covering the windows.]
Stephen: [Murmuring to himself] The mornings afterwards are always beautiful. . .
Tobias: [He cuts around the edge of the town’s Christmas display, tripping over his feet as he goes, talking to himself while unable to catch his breath] Can’t be late again, can-NOT be late again! Mister Tzeetz will friggin kill me! Breathe, breathe.. [He trips over his feet again, just as the bell rings] ACK! [The ten-year-old picks himself up off of the ground and runs to the wooden doors of the schoolhouse, arriving immediately after they close.] Argh! Let me in, Please! [He pounds on the door] I tripped! I TRIPPED!
[The door opens slowly.]
Stephen: . . . You’re sure about that, Tobias? Weren’t running late before you tripped?
Tobias: I- [He lowers his head and rubs the back of it with his dominant hand.]Well. Yeah, but.. I woulda made it if-
Stephen: Tch! Say no more. Take your seat and settle down. [He steps back to let the child through, then locking the door and striding to the front of the class.] Alright, chitlins! Today, we will begin with. . .
[Rayne slides her book onto the wall surrounding the Christmas tree, then pulls herself up onto the rocks. The girl took a moment getting herself situated, then she poked her nose into the pages, tracing her fingers along the pictures.]
Rayne: Oi! [She giggles.]
???: Whatchoo doin’, Rayne?
[The little girl peered over the picture book, eyes wide.]
???: Can I see?
[The boy was older than she was- one class up, so they didn’t speak often. His name was Aaron, and he was one of the teacher’s children. Sort of at that awkward stage between being a kid and being a teenager- though all that Rayne knew was that the boy looked funny.]
Rayne: [nodding.] Yup! [She holds out the book to the boy and watches him flip through the pages.] That’s my favorite book. ‘bout the kitty in the boots?
Aaron: Hrm. He’s alright. Carries a sword, so it’s—
???: AARON TZHEETZ. Give back my girl her book RIGHT NOW!
[Both children wince. Aaron looks mildly regretful, but hands the book back to Rayne and sprints off.]
Rayne: Momma! I let him see it! He ask’d real nice-like, sos—
Rayne’s Momma: No! He’s too old. Fill yer head with nonsense. Go play with your sister!
Rayne: But- Momma! I-
Rayne’s Momma: No Buts! She’s out back with the chickens- now Shoo! Afore I find somethin’ sort of chores for ya!
[Aaron skids to a stop in front of his parent’s house, grinning slightly from the sprint.]
Aaron: Trish! Hey, Trish! [He ducks underneath the neighbor’s porch and peeks his head in one of the smaller holes.] Trish! You in the cubbyhole? [He makes a face, then backs out form under the porch, darting up the stairs] Must be inside, then. Maybe helpin’ mum cook. Hey, Mum? [he pushes open the door to his parent’s house and enters.] Mum? Trish in here? I got somefin I wanna show her!
???: I dun wanna see it! Not if it’s another worm!
Aaron: [following the voice] Nothin’ like that, Trish! It’s just they’re about to put the star on the tree. Thought you’d wanna come see.
Trish: [Poking her head out of the kitchen] Is pops doin’ it again this year?
Aaron: Naw. Said he’d try to be off work in time ta see it with us, though!
Trish: [Her face lights up and her head disappears back into the kitchen.] Momma, Momma can I go, please?!
Eleanor: [warmly] of course you can! Go on- git. Be back soon, though.
[Both children dash out of the house, nearly slamming doors and knocking down furniture as they go. They come to a stop in the area in front of the tree, amongst a gathering crowd, . . A man sets up a ladder, then makes the long climb to the top, setting a large star with an extremely oversized candle inside atop the tree. The crowd goes silent.
The man strikes a match, lights the star, then closes the ornament, smiling. There is a shot of Stephen in the tunnels, leaning off a stalagmite- then a “mirror” image of the tree.]
=3 I've got a shitload of concept work for this thing floating around the house/internet/hard drive, but for now I'll just leave you with this one:
it was done by Miss Edwards, whose blog you can find here.
I rather enjoy- faces (left to right, up and down) 1, 3, and 6- those are the most in-character for him. :3
I'll be posting some of my sketches eventually- I'll dedicate post to this story later :3
