Saturday, August 13, 2011

The Original Sonic Screwdriver {Illustration}




This morning's graphic design project. 
EDIT: Just realised that, no, this isn't the original sonic screwdriver. It is in fact only the latest Screwdriver, But it is the one on my desk and I was casting about for words to type in my pretty font I found, Black Rose [AKA the Vimeo Font] so Original it is. this is, after all, the first illustration of this sort I have made.}

Saturday, August 06, 2011

Helicopters & Yellow Lights


Dad & I went to the airport for a talk thing about the Sen. Stevens airplane crash, {They still have no proper ideas on how it happened}
It was really yellow in there, to give you an idea, I had it set to tungsten, the most anti-yellow {blue} setting I have.

Dad bought a helicopter.

The news was there, being lazy. No crane {or movement of any kind} no second camera, just one camera and a tripod.

Lazy.



Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Thanks, Mom.




Hanna and I


The CWA of Dr. Z Smith: Episode #113: The Future



The Machine landed.
It landed, not in the haphazard way it had a moment and fifteen years ago, but gently, and into the cradle which had been built specifically for it.
  “So, this is the future?” asked the boy. “Seems awfully…white.”
  “That's because this is my garage.” Replied Dr. Smith.
  “It's really big. Where are we?”
  “Legopolis.”
The boy examined the garage. It seemed to him, to get a room this large, one would have to demolish the entire block. Maybe even the entire town.
  “Wow.” Was all he said.
-=-

-=fig. 689: all this, one day=-
  “One day, boy, all this will be yours.”
  “Gosh. Do I make it big, or something?”
  “Yes, but you won't need it. This is the same house you–I–We've always lived in. Something happened, I'm not sure what, but I'm not looking too close. Look too close and it might fall apart, or it might not.”
  “That's the problem with Quantum, you don't know if it's there until too late.”
  “Exactly.”
Capt. Brown watched the two Zachary Smiths from the kitchen table.  Jeeves poured him a mug of tea.
  “Don't see why we couldn't have brought back Little Me too.”
  “We're you being threatened by a time travelling maniac?”
  “Might've been. Can't remember. Which reminds me, what are we going to do about Him? He's still there. There's a dead guy in the yard, and I'm inside with Zachary's parents!”
  “Fifteen years ago.”
  “Fifteen years ago.” Capt. Brown admitted. “But how is it we escape from that?
  “Do you remember being kidnapped?” Jeeves asked. 
  “…No.”
  “Then You Probably weren't. The Master usually has a plan, and even when he doesn't it works out.” 


-=fig. 690: the hall of robotics=-
  “And this,” Dr. Smith said, “Is Jeeves MK12. Actually, it's just the skin model, the actual MK12 is in the…somewhere around here.”
  “Nice. Big design change, though.” 
  “Yeah, the whole ‘Robot’ look was frightening people. But hey! We need to get you back to your own time!” 
  “Why? You have a time machine.” 
  “Because, that's why. But before you go, I'd like to show you my laboratory.”


-=fig. 691: strapped down=-
  “This is a memory eraser isn't it?” asked the boy.
  “What makes you say that?” Asked the man. 
  “Because you've shown me everything I'll invent in the next fifteen years. You can't let me go back with that knowledge, It'll be a paradox. A circle with no beginning or end. And by the way ‘ERASE MEMORY? Y/N’ is blinking on that monitor.”
  “You got me, kid. I had fun today, though.”
  “Me too.”
The man pressed Y.
The boy forgot.
  “JEEVES!” Dr. Smith shouted over his shoulder, “FIRE UP THE TIME MACHINE, WE HAVE TO GO SAVE JAMES AND MY PARENTS. OH, AND BRING THE PORTA-RASERS!”
 “Are you sure, Sir?” Dr. Smith jumped about a foot,  Jeeves was right behind him.  “Those heven't been field-tested to their fullest extent. Sir.” Jeeves continued. 
 “They've been field-tested enough, Jeeves.”
-=fifteen years earlier=-
The time machine landed. Again. 
Dr. Smith made sure had his Sabre, Capt. Brown made sure he had his favourite guns, with the reenforced triggering mechanisms, but at his side was Dr. Smith's secondary sword.
The brainwashed boy slept.




  “Good afternoon, Dr. Smith. We meet again.”





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