Expo, 32, freelance film and video editor and professional nerd living in the Pacific northwest.
Doodle inspired by that gif of Tron hopping from foot to foot. This is what happens when the laser lab calls!
heeeeeee <3
As another friend pointed out in chat, 45x time dilation means that Tron is basically sitting around in that I/O Tower for days waiting for Alan to hit “OK”.
oh hey where did this cutie come from?!
from one of my favorite movies of all time, that’s where
>:I
Always reblog Alan!
Here’s what I wanted with that composition - Alan chancing upon one of Rinzler’s discs and warning Sam to stay behind. Because it would be good to have somebody who’s not a Flynn in charge for once.
…this is exactly the inspiration I needed to get back to work on Beyond the Sea tonight. Wow.
windgirlcurse replied to your post: Sketch Request hour!
Draw Lora pulling on Alan like he is in big trouble for doing something wrong.
Yes, perfect.
WIP for a commissioned card
AAAAAAAA!!!
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!
…yes sir I like it.
headcanon that evolved from musing about why certain characters stick and others don’t: Older Alan-
He’s had life just dumped on him since his rise in Encom- a wife that moved elsewhere, a company dumped in his lap, a friend gone missing, a sort-of son to keep an eye on, the company taken away but forced to continue to be a figurehead on the board- I can’t help but thinkg he continued to be a programmer despite all that, and since he couldn’t officially push his stuff through Encom, and definitely could not start his own company due to ‘competition’ and ‘conflict of interests’; part of me thinks he still makes stuff and throws the programs online as freeware, just to keep his hand in keeping up with the times and not let Mackey and his lapdogs succeed in making him feel like he’s completely useless…
Yes sir I like it. Headcanon accepted.
Going to give this to Bruce Boxleitner today at sci-fi expo. That is if I don’t die first.
arghhhh this is amazeballs <3333
Expo Approved!
For TehKittyKat, who requested: “Can I just have Yori punching someone? Lots of people deserve a punch from Yori!”
You get two for the price of one. Because I love you.
Not Without Incident
——————————
Dyson and his squad of Black Guards are regulars at the End of Line, and no-one likes them. If it were up to Eckert, he’d have the whole lot of them barred. Zuse, however, was always quick to remind him that Dyson was considered a VIP, and that the End of Line had just been recompiled a cycle ago after that terrible incident with the rogue System Monitor, and that he’d very much like to keep it that way. So Eckert minds his own business—the End of Line is nominally neutral ground, after all—and makes the occasional curled-lip sneer at Dyson behind his back.
The small woman with the short dark hair and loose belted jacket with the hood is also a regular, although a far less frequent one, these days. Usually she keeps to herself at the far end of the bar, and so rarely speaks to anyone at all that most patrons tend to forget that she’s there.
Tonight, however, is different.
“Do I know you?” Dyson asks, quirking an eyebrow as the woman approaches.
The woman smiles, a tight, icy little smile. ”Yes,” she replies. ”You do.”
The woman’s fist flashes out before the former Security lieutenant can mark her movement. It catches him square in the jaw, sending him head-over-heels backward over the table and into two of his men.
By the time that Dyson is able to right himself, Yori is gone.
I May Have Deserved That
——————————
“What the hell did you do to yourself??” Lora exclaims. ”You got blood all over my terminal!”
“I had the funkiesht dream,” Flynn answers drunkenly, holding the sleeve of his jacket over his his still-bleeding nose. ”An’ he was there, an’ you were there, and I kished you, and you punched me! Wight in da nobe.”
Alan snorts, and Lora rolls her eyes, grabbing Flynn by the forearm not engaged in trying to stem the nasal hemorrhaging (the printout proclaiming Dillinger’s perfidy is still clutched in his free hand) and dragging him to his feet. ”Come on, let’s get the hell out of here while we still can.”
“Todally worf it,” Flynn mumbles as they make for the elevator, and wonders why he’s surprised when Lora punches him in the back of the head.
Super quick
b-but I love Alan and Lora so much in all of their dorky glory ;u; and for whatever odd reason I love Lora when she is (briefly) in this getup.
Re-reblogging because it’s super cute.
Re-re-reblogging for those who complained about there being next to no Alan & Lora fanart. ♥
Science lovebirds ;A;
(Source: thats-so-ravenholm)
Alan what is that tie.
I love that the comic artists flawlessly captured the Bradley Bitchface here.
(Source: deae-vercanv)
Playing Ninja
A ficlet as promised, based on this picture:
It had happened so fast.
There had been a feeling of compression, not unlike what he had felt the first time Tron had crammed him into that dark, empty, unfeeling and endless hole where he had kept him for so long. Then there was a light, and then ground beneath his feet that caught him too quickly, that made him stumble and fall, and a voice saying:
“That’s Tron?!”
There were two people in the room when he looked up from the floor where he lie, sprawled on his stomach. Both were male. One was young, dirty blond and critical looking. The other, who was still speaking, was old, with panes of something shiny over his eyes.
“I thought you said he’d look like me?”
“That’s what Dad said,” the younger one said, eyeing Cyrus suspiciously before spinning in his high-backed chair to look at something on the screen before him. Cyrus retracted, scrambling to his feet, almost colliding with the device behind him. It stood on a tripod and stared at him with one bright blue digital eye. He could smell the heat coming off of it, and it whirred quietly beside him. It was stationed in a room with a desk, a chair, and one high up window; a subterranean office with brown carpet and white walls.
The older being —User, he was certain— was looking at him with an unpleasant expression.
“Sam—”
“Shit,” the younger one replied, “I got it wrong, Alan, they just share some of the same code. This program is too new to be—”
At that moment Cyrus struck, lunging at them both and throwing the older user into the younger with such force that both of them and the chair they were perched in tumbled to the ground. Then he bolted.
There were stairs to his right, and he took them. Through every window, he saw familiar darkness, but on every table were unusual, soft looking lamps, all yellow light and poor viability. There was a light on at the end of the hall, and from that room came the sound of humming and the smell of something hot, and… he did not have the word for it, but it made him salivate for some reason, colorless power sludge leaking into his mouth at an increase rate so that he had to swallow it back.
He turned down another hallway, though, passing framed images on the walls and too-small for anything tabled made out of a brown, shiny material he couldn’t name, running from the light and the warmth and the sound. He was met by another staircase, and he ascended it quickly, but quietly now. If he was going to escape, then he needed to be subtle. Needed to be careful. Needed a weapon, or a hostage, and then to hide …
He pulled some kind of soft, hooded jacket that was hanging from the banister as he passed it, pulling the hood low over his forehead, trying to hide his own glow as he dove through the first door that he saw. It was open, and the room was dark, as if someone had either just left or had just gone in to pick something up and did not expect to be there long or need a light to find it. He collided with that someone even as he pulled the door shut behind him: it was a dark haired girl, an image that glowed just as his circuits still did emblazoned on her arm.
She fell on her backside when he hit her, and while he scrambled quickly to his knees, she was slower to recover, seeming somehow unable to process what she was seeing.
“You’re not who they were trying to bring,” she stuttered, but he hardly heard the words.
A hostage indeed, he thought as he lifted his hand. Before she could throw him off, he lunged for her throat. He said only two words as he dragged her to her feet and -still half-strangling her- placed her between himself and the door. In a voice roughened long ago by code degradation and his own glitch-driven ravings, he whispered:
“Now scream.”
Wow I…
Yes.
(Source: binarytribbles, via ridyr-writing)
…would be that if Alan WERE to ever end up on the Grid with him, this inevitable situation would occur…
Alan: “Kevin!” >:(
Tron: “Flynn!” >:(
Kevin: “Oh man, now there’s two of them…”
Perfect. System.
asfjkdsjadhg fjaergf ds hgjfd
oh my god Pix
…would be that if Alan WERE to ever end up on the Grid with him, this inevitable situation would occur…
Alan: “Kevin!” >:(
Tron: “Flynn!” >:(
Kevin: “Oh man, now there’s two of them…”
Perfect. System.
