New Blog!!!

I've started a brand new blog associated with my Ringling account, at http://dbgad.blogspot.com/ . All new posts will be made there, and since maintaining the blog is a requirement, updates ought to be more frequent. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience.

     -Devan

Drawing II: Invented Vehicle quick sketch

Drawing II: "Trojan Horse"

Drawing 2: Raising the Devil

Cast Drawing 1

Sequential Drawing Final

The Exciting Adventures of Captain Day

Captain Day Animation Test

That Yellow Bastard Saloon

 It were like any typical Sundy afternoon in That Yellow Bastard Saloon. John Eastwood and Clint Wayne were in they usual spot in the corner, takin' shots and swappin' ol' war stories; Johnson the Birdfucker was curled up in a bottle at the back table, weepin' somethin' fierce; Glass-Eye Joe was next to me at the bar, talkin' the ear off of Old Man Board, the barkeep and owner of the establishment; and Johnny Three-Thumbs had just started up a game of Bid Whist, deuces wild, with ol' Scruffy and that strange fella what had just rolled into town that mornin'… called himself the Tijuana Kid.

 Well Johnny had just dealt a new hand when I seen the Kid pulled a baccarat on the flop, an' I'm thinkin' it looks a little fishy, see, so I start to watch him a mite closer, and sure 'nuff he done gone an' slipped a pair a' snake-eyes up his sleeve.

 Now normally I wouldn't mind seein' Johnny get hustled a bit - that boy could stand t'be taken down a peg er two - but he owes me money an' I happen to know he blew all his pay from the last bit of work he got - which wadn't a little while ago if'n ya get my meaning - anyway, he done gone and spent it all tryin'a impress some young piece of fluff who up went an' skedaddled soon as he ran out of gifts for her.

 So seein' as I got somethin' ridin' on Johnny t'day, I goes up to him and tell 'im what I done seen that Tijuana feller done did.

 well Johnny, he goes off faster'n a soldier wit a twenny-dollar whore, knockin' over tables and yellin' like a maniac. The Kid makes a dash fer the door, but Johnny grabs 'is chair an' bashes the Kid right upside 'is head. Put 'im out cold, or so I thought.

 I see Scruffy tryin' ta back away from the fight, an' he ends up backin' right inta Clint an' John's table, knockin' their bottle a pop-skull onta the floor. John Eastwood gets up an' belts Scruffy right in the jaw fer wastin' good whiskey, an' ol' Clint, I think the excitement got to 'im, cuz he started shoutin' and flailin' about, babblin' sum'n 'bout The Alamo an' all like he does.

Roun' about this time I think it was that Glass-Eye Joe comes up behin' me an' drops his bottle on my head, an' I meant to turn aroun' an' ask 'im all civil-like why it was he would'a gone and done a thing like that, an' my arm just sorta kep on' an' followed through, as it was, an' Joe, he took it personal, y'know.

 I don't rightly remember what happened after that, bein' caught up in the moment like I was, an' you know how these things just sorta grow on 'emselves. But you kin see it tweren't me what started the fight, can't you Shurriff? I really didn't have nuthin' to do wit it, if'n you see, I were nuthin' but a inn'sent bystander. Kin I go now?

The Kid's Bachelor Pad

Let's Go to the Movies

Traditional Animation Character Model Sheet - Captain Day

Flour Sack: Prison Break

Clothing Fold Studies from Awesome Movies

slightly redone

Drawing 2 - Playground Takeover

Kitbash 2: The Aftermath

 The following transmission was recovered on August 14th, 2225, two weeks after touchdown Gliese 581d:

"-s mission log, final entry. Dr. Wu is dead, they took his body with them. I managed to get away with a radio and a week's worth of rations, but I can't risk trying to get back to the wagon. The rain here is so heavy I can't see a foot in front of my face, and even the tallest trees don't seem to offer any kind of shelter. For all the abundance of plant and animal life, there's not a thing here that's edible, at least not that I've been able to find. In short, I'm in for a pretty wet, cold and uncomfortable death. That's if they don't kill me first, which seems more likely.

Things seemed innocuous enough when we first set down, but it soon became clear that this environment was just about the worst possible thing to try to go through with a wagon. Mud would cake around the edge of the skirt so it would drag on the ground and snag on everything, and all the dense foliage would kick the mud up into the fans and vents when we went over it. We couldn't go more than an hour without having to stop for something; to patch the skirt, or clean out one of the fans. More than once we had to get out and push, and the mud was so thick in places we'd be in it up to our armpits. When you're moving through 5 feet of mud, you have to do this sort of half walking, have swimming motion, trying your best to stay calm so you won't panic and thrash around until you drown yourself.

Dr. Wu was positively euphoric the entire time. He couldn't decide whether the terrain constituted a bog or a rainforest, he was collecting samples every chance he had, and he was convinced some of the plant life was moving under its own power. He kept going on about how his colleagues wouldn't believe any of it, and how he was certain to get the Nobel Prize. The short periods when the wagon would actually run were the only reprieve I had, when the sound of the fans running would drown out his incessant blather.

I guess I shouldn't have said that. Respect for the Dead, and all.

 I don't know how long they knew we were here; probably from the minute we landed. They could have been following us the entire time and we never knew. They move through the mud and foliage faster than you would think possible, and you don't see or hear them until they want you to. I don't know if we did anything in particular to upset them, or if they just decided that we were too much of a threat, and had to be dealt with.

It must have been around the tenth time we stopped that they attacked us. We hadn't even gotten off the wagon when a volley of spears came at us from every direction. I took a hit on my shoulder, Wu got one in the gut. He was probably still alive when he fell. Duty would have demanded I try to save him. My first and only priority was to keep him alive on this mission. But if I'd gone after him, then we'd both be dead right now.

I jumped into the mud right when they swarmed on us. As near as I can tell, they must have thought the wagon was alive. Being the largest and noisiest of the three of us, they all concentrated on taking it down first, and that's how I was able to get away. But they'll be after me soon enough. I've no doubt that they're able to track me through the mud. I only hope that the rest of this damn planet isn't like this, or the H-130 fleet is going to be needing a bunch of new recruits real soon."

End of Transmission

Emotion in Figure

Drawing 2 Complementary Final Drawing

Figure Drawing