#youmustconform

[a-moment-of-life]

2084 

In the year 2084, the fate of mankind will rest in the hands of a total moron.

"2084" is an experimental sci-fi/comedy that was shot in the director's cramped living room with a cast of three, and a crew of one.  We hope you enjoy it!

Director  |  Taz Goldstein  |  twitter.com/tazgoldstein Writers  |  Byrne Offutt & Taz Goldstein

Citizen Byrne | Byrne Offutt  |  twitter.com/bobandbyrne Citizen Bob | Bob Levitan  |  twitter.com/808levitan Citizen Brandon | Brandon Epland  |  twitter.com/brandonepland

[pemreblog]

Freeview Play - Set Yourself Free

[paultempelman]

This was essentially the Teaser which played before “set yourself free”

People were recording the spot off their TVs and tweeting about it.

I helped out with the animation of the Robot.

[personaeedeni]

Mourn Me, or how Fang learned to deal with Death.

Luka/Fang

Mourn Me, fic prompt, written for Christy about Fang and Luka.

The door to her room hung off its hinges, the table lay in pieces at her feet, and soon the sound of jackboots emanated from outside her door. The Huntress stood up, her hand gripping a table leg and took but one step before her world turned to black.

This was how Fang ended up in jail. The next five days in jail went the same way, hour-long lessons of why the protruding nail will be hammered down, followed by an hour of beating that lesson into her head.

So when Fang left the correctional facility, she looked worse off than she did when she went in. Bandages covered whatever skin she was showing out of her prison jumpsuit. The first thing she found out was the date, and to her increasing depression, she realized that she had missed her friend's funeral.

Her steps took her to the cemetery. Finding her stone took time, damned city and its need for conformity. But finally, Fang did find it, nestled in the corner, almost hidden from sight. The bronze-skinned woman bent down in front of it and put her hand on top of it. Running her palm over the smooth surface of the stone, Fang slowly patted it imagining the pink-haired girl's head where the rock ended.

"Sorry I couldn't be here, darlin'," Fang said her hand still moving in circles over the stone. "But I was a bit busy getting a reeducation. They tol' me I couldn't act out of line... So guess I've really fucked up huh?"

She kissed the stone.

"I'll be back to see ya. Don't you worry."

And the Huntress did show up. Every day for a month, until she was sent to jail once again. The next time she visited was a month later, and from then on, Fang's visits became ever more erratic and the time in between each visit stretched longer and longer. Skip past a few years and moss has now grown over the stone, dust gathered, and a general sense of neglect made its home among the grasses of the tombstone. A woman wearing a grey suit carrying a briefcase hurried past the stone, her heels made a clacking sound on the base as she tried to make it to work on time. A few steps and the woman stopped, she turned back, glanced at the grave. Her hooker green eyes widened for a second, a precious second of recognition. "Lu-" The bell of the old clocktower rang, striking the bell eight times. The black-haired bronze-skinned lady cursed and rushed off. The tombstone already erased from her memory.