2nd version!

I personally like the 2nd one better. Of course.

Dum dum dum...

And now the moment you've (non-existent as you are) all been waiting for. my 3D final! Now. I did two versions. One was finished a week before the presentation. Then after submission, our lecturer started asking us whether WE were satisfied with our own work. That instantly put me into 'unhappy, must redo' mode. So I more or less kept the original structure but changed the design and look of the vehicle.

The assignment is for a multi-purpose military vehicle. The first version needs one man to operate it, whilst the second can be operated from base using computers and AI. The obvious inspiration for the look of the vehicles is a spider. And so I named them Archanid. Not very imaginative I know. Both versions are scouting vehicles, so they are lightweight and agile. The guns are there for them to distract the enemy while they make their escapse or for them to go down fighting if they didn't manage to flee.

I will post up the 2nd version in the next post. Blogger doesn't seem to allow me to have two pictures in one post.

Update!

Ah yes. Thundercats. Our final assignment. To redesign any 5 characters from Thundercats, with Lion-o being a must. The other 4 that I've chosen is Cheetara, Panthro, Wilykat and Wilykit.

I have put the Thundercats in a new environment and have adjusted their clothing as such because we all know that nothing screams gay like bulky men in leotards.

So their new environment is this. The Thundercats have escaped from Thundera minutes before it exploded only to land on earth during World War II. They have also happened to land in Germany. Beings aliens, they have no clue as to what was going on earth and have found refuge where they could and that meant joining the Nazis. As you can see, I have kept elements of the Nazi uniforms which include the black straps and the armbands. If you look closely at Lion-o's collar and shoulder I have actually given him a ranking in the Nazi army.

Note that I have made the ties and ribbons the colour of their previous costumes, except for panthro, because his skin is already blue, and he has a blue vest on.

Forgive me if they look stacked, because I did stack them ontop of each other without flattening the separate images, and I had to do so because we were required to print it out on an A3 piece of paper for our presentation.

No wait,... It's working.... right?

Oh good. It finally decides to work.

And now the explaining of the concept art, and cue lethargy setting in....

This is basically my solider, captain and general, in that order. Undead army, yadi yada yada....

Tired..

Nobody bothers to comment. Consequently, I'm feeling rather tired about this whole uploading your work to your blog thing now.

I was going to upload my next piece of work, but Blogger is having its period and thus refuse to co-operate. So I'll leave this -sigh- uploading to another time.

Work again.

Now, this is my ranged weapon and is one of my favourite works.

It is a bone gun, used only by a particular high ranking demon (undetermined yet as of now, there is a possibility that I may use it in stories), and its bullets are impure human souls. Against other supernatural beings, the souls act as bullets would, whilst against a human, the bullet souls would then instead corrupt and taint the soul of that human and essentially turn the victim's soul into additional ammo.

P/S: All work posted up here are my intellectual properties and use of them without my permission will be a violation of copyright.

2nd piece of work

This would be the concept art for my monster dubbed Muraenid. The creature I picked out of the black box was an eel. And the stats that I rolled for it were 6 for strength, 1 for speed and 4 for intelligence.

As the lecturers had already pointed out, it is out of proportion, and that huge bit of shoulder there is too empty. I will do changes later on, but that's that for now. Note that all the work that I post up here were actual submissions for my assignments.

My final presentation is over, all work have been submitted, and holidays are here. Which also means, it's about time I stopped delaying posting my work up online.

I will post the work up one by one, just so I can pull in visitors. Hahahahaha.

This is one of my very first assignments for Concept Art. She's supposed to be my 'superhero' , except she came out more of a villain than anything. I think it's rather obvious what her superpowers are... If it isn't..... Well, just ask. We were told to do three colour variations for our superhero so these are my three. The final one would be the blue one.

As I've mentioned, I'll be publishing my work up one by one. And this is the first. And erm... No comments about the face please, I'm quite aware of my face drawing limitations and I AM working on it. So... Yeah.

Happy days are here again.

The finals are finally here. Well, technically the finals have been here for awhile, I've just never really got my arse wrapped around it. But now that the last weeks are here... Suffice to say, the prospect of failure is enough motivation. Who would want to be labeled as the one who failed the Games Course?

Anyway.... Expect works to be posted up soon, and yes, my 3D final is among them. Prepare to laugh.

Necropolis : City of the Dead

He had slipped through the cracks.

When he was a child, he had made a game. Whenever he walked down a pavement, he would have to avoid stepping on the cracks, or else he would fall through and the game would be lost.

Thus, most of his childhood would see him stepping gingerly on the sidewalks and then giving himself a little applause when he got through that stretch of the sidewalk successfully.

That habit gradually died as he approached the cruel teenage years. It just wasn’t cool to keep acting like a child, and games were something only children played.

He hadn’t intended to bring it forward to his adult years either. Perhaps work had put too much pressure on him. Perhaps his wife had nagged him too much that morning, or his children had demanded too many gifts from him. Whatever it was, it brought him back to the memories of his childhood, and the longing he held for it made him avoid the pavement cracks once more.

But this time, he had fallen through the cracks.

He had imagined this moment many times in his head. Sometimes the sky of the city underground would be a clear blue, other times, when his mood wasn’t quite as good, it would stay in eternal night.

All those years, it never occurred to him that he could be wrong.

The skies down here were a bleak gray.

---

His laughter could be heard through the crumbling walls.

Ghosts of his glee lingered behind, a pathetic shadow of their original self. The echoes came back detached, completely devoid of emotions.

It was every child’s dream. A whole abandoned city, to explore, to play in. It was all to himself and him alone.

He had been skipping for a few days now; after all why walk when you can skip?

The thought made him joyous.

He hadn’t felt this free, this alive, in years.

It’s been so long… so very long…

He threw up his hands and another boisterous guffaw came out.

But his hilarity was cut short. The slapping of his soles against the ground slowed down in its frequency and eventually came to a halt.

There were people. It was the first time he had seen people other than him.

They looked human enough. They were of the right proportions, the right number of limbs, of eyes, and some even had a head full of hair.

Except that there was something very wrong and worrying about them. They weren’t really like living beings. At least not like him.

They shuffled instead of walking. Their arms didn’t move with their legs, like it was too heavy to be lifted, and so they left it stagnant at their sides. Their eyes were wide, unblinking, their pupils looked like shriveled raisins in a sea of white.

What perhaps was most unnerving was that they said nothing. Not a single word, not even a single sound. It was a complete absence of noise. Never in the history of mankind, could a group that large be together without causing any noise, not even a little cough.

None of them turned to look at him. Not even after he deliberately exclaimed very loudly that there was a bird above them who seemed intent on unloading a cargo over them.

Their feet just kept dragging on the ground, always facing ahead, always going straight, without a sense of direction, without a sense of anything.

He wanted to turn and run. And he did.

No, actually this wasn’t the first time he had seen them. He had met them countless times before. He just hadn’t noticed them because… Well, because they were always there.

Then a memory he had been repressing since he arrived at this strange place made itself known.

“My family?”

Guilt and agony took over.

---

He stumbled blindly. Every pillar looked the same as the last. The streets wound the same way, the layout of the cobbles were identical. Even the walls seemed to have deteriorated in the exact same pattern.

He wondered how long he had walked. He wondered how every corner could look the same. He wondered how he could get out of here. He wondered where his family was.

“Have you seen my family?” For the past few days, those were the only words that he could say.

Psst…

He trudged on.

Psst…

He stopped.

Psst…

“Have you seen my family?”

Psst… Psst…

“Psst… Buddy. In here. Come here.” A wooden door creaked open, nearly off its rusty hinges, hanging on only due to sheer will.

He half stumbled, half ran to the open door.

“You’re looking for your family? So are we. We are looking for our families too.”

“We’re looking for the way out of here.”

He stepped through the door into a room, a tiny house, maybe.

Then, in the darkness, they enveloped him into a tight, tight embrace. It squeezed out his tears.

“Have you seen my family?”

---

The sound of heavy boots came from the street.

Eyes peered out of the grimy window. The dirt wasn’t thick enough to completely obscure his vision of the street.

There was a funeral going on.

Was that what the zombie people were shuffling to?

Six undertakers marched, in the way that soldiers do. They didn’t have much room between them, yet they still managed to do so, somehow.

The coffin they carried on their shoulders was either for a midget or for a child.

A child. He had two young daughters of his own. The very idea of it filled him with dread.

He wanted to look away.

“Don’t ever ask them.” One of the refugees of the house had sidled up behind him, silent as ever. He no longer jumped when they appear behind him like that.

“About my family?”

“Anything. Don’t ever ask them about anything.”

---

He had been waiting. He had been hoping. They were supposed to be his savior. They were supposed to be his ticket out of this place.

It turned out that they were lost souls too. They were every bit as lost as he was.

He went to peer out the window, as was his habit these days.

The endless funeral march.

A different coffin, this time, a full grown man.

“Don’t ask them” Their warning came again. His fist clenched.

“You tell me not to ask them, and yet! And yet… And yet you give me nothing!”

“Where is this way out that you keep talking about? Where is my family?!”

“I will ask them.”

He wanted to shout those words at them. Yell and yell at them till he could yell no more. Till his voice broke so badly, it could never be repaired again.

He couldn’t. He didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

“Don’t ask them.” He nodded.

But his legs moved on their own accord, and before his mind barely registered it, he was already wrenching the door open and running towards the undertakers.

Those in the house didn’t come out to stop him. He thought they would.

What were they afraid of?

Forcefully ripped off its hinges, the wooden door now lay on the dusty cobblestones.

“Have you seen my family?”

They kept on walking.

“I’m asking you a question! Have you seen my family?!” He moved to stand in front of them. If they had to trample on him to give him an answer, then so be it.

The head undertaker, if they even had a leader, gaunt as Death, raised a dirty hand, covered in layers of soil and hard labour, and the party, as a whole, stopped, for a moment.

The lack of emotions on that pale, scrawny face was frustrating.

“I will ask you one more time or so God help you… Have you seen my family?!”

The soft voice reminded him of cob webbed mausoleums and of the dry rattling of skeletons.

“You talk too much for a dead man.”

“I am not dead - !” Distant sounds ambushed his mind. The groaning twist of metal. The gentle, sickening snap of fragile bones.

Blood seeped through the cracks on the pavement.

His arms went slack, his eyes took on a familiar glassy sheen, his once confident stride changed to an awkward shuffling, and he shuffled his way to join the ranks of the zombie people.

The black march went on.

---

Eyes peered out of the grimy window to witness the somber occasion outside.

The ancient door hung on its reddish brown hinges once more.

A funeral procession. Who would have thought that there would be undertakers in this place?

“Don’t ever ask them.” He flinched. Damn them and their quiet ways.

“Why?”

“Because they will tell you the truth.”

---

A/N: As you can tell, my blog title was derived from my latest achievement in the art of writing. It's not much, but hey, it's something.

The very first post

And so my blog virginity is taken. If it were not for my concept art class, I probably would have never went near a blog, much less establish one of my own.

So, the purpose of this blog would be to publish all (maybe not) works of mine. That includes everything from 3D to my stories.

To all who have wandered here, welcome. Thus concludes my first post. The second post will be the most recent story that I have written and will be up shortly.