That's a nice update on the front. I suppose you'll add a grille...?
Personally, I like that retro style grille you had on the azure. The rectangular one, y'know. Maybe add fog lights too?

Sure! Eager to see more!

Not much from me lately. Been busy with Blender. Hey, btw, nola, What blender version do you have? 2.53b?

Nice work! Rather low poly, but still pretty nice. Can't wait for you to finish it

Awesome!
Great detail

Just go over to the user control panel. You'll see it then

Awesome! The British flag adds that perfect touch

How 'bout making the main gun larger.

That's really nice work. I think, though, that the shadow seems a bit unrealistic. BTW, what is the file size?

Hi Joshua!

Thanks for the comments. Maclean really only has compassion for the worms when he is under their mind-probe--not all the time.

And I hate to dash your hopes...but there won't be any fighting between the Terrans and the aliens. Maclean is actually going to defeat them singlehandedly...and I know that sounds wierd, but it'll make sense .

Thanks for the compliments too!

--PinkSkink

Hey Joshua!

Here's the alien's ship. Modeled by me (PinkSkink) in Sketchup.

--PinkSkink

I love the second one. Where was this?

A new project. It's a cave-in-a-cliff. I made the cave by making a floor plane (With grid) and smooving a pit in it. Then rotated the whole mesh 90 degrees along green. And then I added the ground. Made it the same way, of course, minus the rotating. Now for some screenshots.

Lookin' good!

Hi Liam, I just remembered that I actually do have photoshop. Don't know why I forgot...

Oh! Yeah, I get it. Don't worry though, I think We'll both start signing our names so you can tell us apart.

Like this:

--PinkSkink

What? Could you rephrase that post? I don't understand what you said.

Thanks a lot for the offer, but I'll just continue posting on Goldenfrog's account. I'm not reall very active on Sketchucation right now. Maybe, if I get more active, I'll get an account for myself.

Thanks again for the offer, though!

Wow, illustrating the story with sketchup models is a fantastic idea! I'm sure my brother would be interested in illustrating some stuff from the story.

I would like to make my own account, but to do that, I need another email address. My parents feel that that is too many email adresses to monitor. Oh well...

Thanks alot for the comments!

Hello everyone!

This is PinkSkink, Goldenfrog's sister.

I'm not sure if this has been done before, but...
Along with playing on Sketchup, I also write, as a hobby. Since this is the corner bar, I thought it might be a good place to post something I've written, and perhaps get feedback or encourage others to share some of their writing, too .

The piece below is part 1 (and a bit more) of a science fiction story I'm in the process of writing. It doesn't have a title yet, but will soon.

Anyway, here it is--please read and enjoy!

@unknownuser said:

Kirk Maclean was sound asleep, floating over a null-g plate, when the rocket landed on the small, airless world. The low rumble woke him instantly. With swift movements, he detached the tether that prevented him from floating out onto the floor, and grabbed the side of the plate to swing himself onto the floor. He landed feet first and stepped into his boots, which, feeling pressure on the soles, automatically zipped up. Stepping across the small room, he grabbed his pistol and flicked open the ammunition chamber. Checking the gun was a precaution required by habit only, since the snub-nosed pistol was always kept loaded and cleaned.

Already his mind was racing through all the possible identities for the visitor. The supply ship was not due until 10 Terran days from now, and no one else--except for some government officials--even knew of the asteroid base. Perhaps the Russians had captured someone and made them talk... He pushed the thought out of his mind. If the rocket that had just landed contained a Russian invasion force, there was absolutely nothing he could do. The only honorable thing to do was to go out fighting.Armed with this resolution, Maclean raced up the metal stairs to the surface, grabbing a rebreather on the way up. Although the asteroid did have a thin atmosphere, it was all the wrong sorts of gases--carbon monoxide, sulfur, hydrogen cyanide, and others. The only good thing about the atmosphere was that its pressure negated the need for a full spacesuit.

The double doors of the base’s airlock hissed open, and he stepped out onto the chalky surface. Terra was just rising on his left, serene and distant, and on his right, the moon was setting, red and dim in the noxious atmosphere. Nothing moved on the asteroid’s surface; it was bare except for the black, bristling native plants.

As he scanned the jagged horizon, Maclean suddenly saw a new shape, silhouetted against the setting moon. At once he knew that no Russian ever built such a vessel. It was a large, glowing blue orb, with long, silver, liquid-filled hoses coiling and squirming inside. In the thin atmosphere, he seemed to catch a faint hissing as they thrashed about. The orb was reinforced with a pewter coloured apparatus, which held the landing and steering jets.

One of the hoses slid towards the metal machinery where it contacted the glowing sphere. An airlock the width of his hand opened, and the hose began snaking through. With a start, Maclean realized that the “hoses” were in fact the pilots of the ship--since hoses do not have quivering mouthparts and antennae. He watched with a kind of fascination as the worm streamed out of the airlock, each new coil landing on the powdery surface with a dull thump and a cloud of dust.

He realized that there was in fact only one inhabitant of this vessel, and that this one creature was close to 400 feet long. As he watched, the worm finally extricated itself from the vessel and began feeling the dusty soil with its antennae. Now that its image was no longer distorted by the glowing blue globe, he was able to examine it in more detail. Its mouth was lined with concentric circular layers of sharp teeth. Surrounding the mouth were several pairs of feelers, which made a dull rustling as they sifted through the soil. It would have been far better, he thought, if the Russians had landed. At least they were human.

Further examination was interrupted by another rumble, and he turned to see another of the same ships landing on a mesa. From the distance came another, and another. To his horror, he suddenly realized that he was surrounded. He also realized that, standing out in the open, he made a perfect target for--well, for whatever the worms wanted to do to him. He could not imagine that their intentions were benign. If he could only reach the safety of the base--

As though it had read his mind, the worm lashed forward with lightning speed to grab his legs. With the instinctive reflexes of a spacer, Maclean leapt backwards, bounding high in the low gravity. He brought the gun up and fired almost before he realized it. He watched as the bullet impacted on the glassy skin, sank through into the silver liquid--and dissolved.

The alien did not seem harmed, but rather puzzled. It continued to advance towards him, but he did not wait around to see what effect another bullet might have. He made a frantic dash for the airlock of the base, hoping desperately that the worm would be too surprised to cut him off. It wasn’t. The worm whipped a slender coil of itself around his ankle, and he suddenly felt intensely tired. Realizing that the worm was influencing him through physical contact, he struggled to break loose, but it was useless, and he slumped unconscious in the chalky soil.

                                    ******

When Maclean came to, he was lying on a soft, spongy surface. Puzzled, he opened his eyes and sat up. The room was entirely made of the spongy substance—a pinkish red, porous tissue. The room had no straight lines—the walls flowed smoothly into the floor, and the columns that held up the ceiling were gently flared at both ends and tapered almost to nothing in the middle.

He got to his feet, and realized that the gravity was much higher than that of the small asteroid base—in fact, it seemed to be almost full earth-strength. The air was slightly higher in oxygen—but quite breathable—and painfully dry. He pressed one hand against the pillar nearest him, and it gave way slightly—almost stretchily—but did not break, though it was almost as thin as a spider web where he pushed it.

He turned at a slight rustling to see one of the glassy worms sliding through a hole in the wall, like a stream of living metal. He instinctively reached for his pistol, and was surprised to find it still in its holster. Of course, the weapon didn’t actually present any danger to the alien—as evidenced by his past experience with it.

He realized that worms were pouring in through almost every hole in the porous wall, resembling a flood of mercury. He was so engrossed in the sight that he did not notice the worm creeping nearer to his feet until it was too late. The alien whipped three coils around his legs, and the more he struggled, the tighter they clenched. The worm continued to encase him in coil after heavy, scaly coil, until he was as immobilized as if he were encased in concrete. He was just beginning to wonder if the aliens planned to kill him by suffocation when he suddenly felt a bizarre sensation. It was almost—but not quite—like cold sharp fingers running along the inside of his skull. He knew at once, with an inexplicable certainty, that the alien was probing his mind. The other beings—he could no longer think of them as aliens now—had gathered around him in a tight, rustling circle, and he realized suddenly that he could understand their expressions. Expectation, fear, curiosity, they were all there, and as easy to read as human faces.

Humans…He realized—or had he always known?—that this race’s objective was the human’s homeworld. And he saw nothing wrong with the idea. He seemed to feel the crowd before him stretching away into the distance, seemed to sense the hunger, the pain, the utter hopelessness that filled them. Their planet, which had always gotten its heat from its molten core, was cooling, sinking into a frozen oblivion. And the whole race, so powerful in culture and technology, was helpless in the face of this inexorable doom.

Their only hope was to flee to another planet. Vowing that they would never again rely solely on heat from a planet’s core, their scientists eliminated world after world, until only one remained as a viable candidate--Terra.

Maclean knew that all they needed now was information about certain details of Terra--number of inhabitants, their psychological resistance, and--most importantly--their military strengths and locations.

Maclean was almost willing to tell, but something held him back. Something--although he could not tell what--restrained him from betraying his race. The beings did not seem to mind--he sensed in their minds a certainty that, sooner or later, he would tell. The one who was probing him--his name was Ren`Tikdanak--left him with the information that there was food in one corner of the room, and withdrew his feelers from Maclean’s brain.

To all outer appearances, Maclean had been unconscious during the entire session. Now he “came to”, but he did so suddenly, and with no dazed or confused look. He found himself still encased in the heavy coils of the worm and struggled violently.

The audience of worms that had been watching him withdrew through the same small holes, and Ren`Tikdanak followed, whipping through the hole he had entered. Maclean lunged after him, but there was nothing he could do. He was alone in his strange, soft cell once more.

Moderators: if you feel that this thread does not belong on Sketchucation, do feel free to lock it.

Constructive criticism is welcome!

I like the render, but to be perfectly honest, the model could use much more work. There are also some needless polygons. Also, the windows are just drawn on, no 3d detail. Think once you get these done it'll be a better model. But as I understand it you wont be sketchuping much. Talk to ya soon!