My first shoot for the Hermit Hogs attracted some attention from the highways agency and the police but we tried to ignore them and carry on anyway. I chose this particular location because I thought it would be very quiet because this stretch of road doesn’t actually go anywhere yet since the Northern Distribution road isn’t finished but there was a little traffic on it so I had to be a tad careful driving the Hog Mobile.
It may have been sunny today but it just so happened it was very windy as well, so the Hog Mobile kept falling over in the middle of takes. I managed to get a few usable clips but I still think I’d like to go back at a quieter time perhaps in better lit conditions.
Fortunately, on the way home I spotted some ducks so I got some footage with those. I might do some practice with these shots.
I saw a cat in the garden so I rushed out to snap this pic with it.
In this version, I’ve written it in the style of Mr Enfield’s account of the juggernaut incident in Story of the Door. I’ve set it up to introduce Jekyll’s wife and expose his addiction to the game.
It’s six in the morning, I’ve just got in and I must be quick to commit my memories to paper because I’ve just had the most bizarre of nights. I was walking back through the quiet end of town around 3am and there wasn’t another soul to be seen, not even any cars. I was just chasing my fuzzy shadow from the LED streetlights down the pavement when a little girl runs out across my path and into the street. She couldn’t have been more than 10 so Christ knows why she was there at that time. Then, out of nowhere, this car with those evil looking headlights comes flying round the bend and she goes under the wheels. Fucking hell, it sounds like nothing writing it down, but it was another thing being there. It was the sound of it that got me. Cars are so quiet these days you could hear her bones crack as the little car rolled over her with all the might of a bloody lorry. Anyway, the car pulls up and this proper looking bloke steps out and starts gawping over at the mess he’s made of the poor little mite. Not a moment later the girl’s folks stumble out of an alley, see what’s happened and start yelping and wailing. What must have been her sister turns around and gives that driver a look that could kill. Before you know it, she’s got him by the collar over the bonnet, all the while she’s on the phone calling up the services, spitting every word in his face. He just sits there and takes it while brushing this funny red sore on his temple.
Later I find myself slouched under a clinical blue light waiting to give my witness statement when a policeman brings a woman who looks like she’s just been dragged out of bed to wait with me. Wrapped up in a dressing gown, visibly shaken, she pulled a vape out of the gown’s pocket. A fruity cloud engulfed us. We get talking and it turns out to be the driver’s wife.
The problem with this is that the observer isn’t very active or relatable. I also haven’t taken the time to describe any of the characters other than Jekyll’s wife.
Here are my initial trump designs. I dislike them all.
After the Christmas break, I came back with a much stronger idea of what I want to achieve. This week I’ve drawn up the initial storyboards for my three sequences and tried to firm up the construction of a Hermit Hog by drawing them into photographs. I’ve also tried to catch up with the character Bible which I’ve neglected quite badly the last few weeks.
What I hope to get done next week is restore the Hog-Mobile and try and get some first takes on my sequences. I should probably have the Bible well on the way to being done by the end.
I tried writing something about Jekyll sitting in his lab, totally bored with his work. I quickly started to resent the idea, so it’s quite short.
Henry, pressing his legs against the back of his desk, leant back in his chair, arching his back and stretching his arms. Tipping his head back, he could see the clock read 09:14. “Oh, Christ…”. After leaning forward again and rubbing his eyes, he looked across the lab to Poole who was cleaning out the centrifuge. “What have I got going on today, Poole?”.
I think I’ll change Jekyll from being a chemical scientist to a computer scientist working in games. This way it wont be about a chemist that gets addicted to games but rather a games developer that creates his own virtual world to do the things in which he finds pleasure without being exposed to disgrace.
I’m just getting round to really thinking about the bible now. I’m planning on making it a bit more interesting by making it the case notes of an old man (Rupert Topcroft) who’s spotted a Hermit Hog in his garden. It will include his notes, sketches and photographs of his encounters with the Hogs.
The idea came about because I wanted to include a little bit of narration over my video sequences in the style of The Pogels.
Here’s the first page I have made. I think this looks pretty nice, not entirely sure about the handwritten title though. If I could keep this up, I’d be happy.
In my story, I’m imagining that Jekyll has become addicted to a new VR system that plays inside your head, based off of various Black Mirror episodes. He begins to neglect himself and his responsibilities and it’s beginning to have detrimental effects to him and his loved ones. At the moment, I’m working with the idea that he runs over a little girl while rushing home to play on the system in a scene based on Mr Enfield’s account of the Juggernaut in ‘Story of the Door’.
In this version, I’ve written in third person about Jekyll leaving work early to get back to the game.
Henry chuckled to himself pulling out the staff car park. Who knew it was so easy to just up and leave? It was really quite exciting for him, being a man of the straight and narrow. Any path less righteous wouldn’t have landed him with a such a desirable and noble profession. But when did that become so boring? He hadn’t felt such a rush since his teens. Video-games had been one of the few escapes afforded to him during school. Although they were so basic back then, they still managed to bring out a far more primitive version of himself. The rush of a good game would see him use words he might usually consider unmentionable at the top of his voice and thrash around in his chair like some down-right detestable brat. It was moments like that which eventually cost him the luxury. However, his mother wasn’t here to put the dampeners on any more. Clutching the steering wheel a little harder, he slowly let his right foot press down on the accelerator. He was going to ride this high all the way back to the sim.
I don’t mind this bit of writing, but I’m starting to think I’d rather talk about Jekyll from another character’s perspective, like perhaps his partner or colleague. They can describe what he’s been like in the time leading up to the incident.
Just another concept image.