B-Movie Entry: Yannick Rogeat

#44

I added the news paper, some smoke (brume), some details on the roof… one day left :frowning: I still have to work on the shovel

#45

Hey Yannick,

This is lookin great! You’ve made some nice progress :smiley:

i just love the room for rent sign, hehehe, such a nice touch

#46

Mate your texturing work is impressive to say the least. Glad you could make up for the PC crash loss. Good luck!!

#47

Hey Fed! Glad you solve the file problem. Brother… wow! When I saw this house I shiver. Simply amazing in every way. What do you think of painting a dark night with red blood clouds? The house darker and light on in the room where the wraith is. And the wraith as a shadow of eyes alight. Just an idea, hehehe.:shrug:.

#48

Bergquist : Hou like room for rent ? me too :slight_smile: thanks !

Aztan : Thank, I just hope the pc will not do it again tonight !

Freelah : Hehe thanks but i did not solve the problem… I have just redone every things I loosed :shrug:
I like your ideas, but i dont know if I’ll get the time to try them… maybe :wink:

#49

I think this is the final one, i prefere stop here because I dont want to rush last minute changes tomorow. but if you see some bad/strang/error things, please let me know tonight !

#50

Super! Just need to finish up with the lay-out poster.

#51

Thanks,

Hum, I did not see anywhere I have to make a poster, should I have to ? :hmm: I’m stressing now !

#52

FeD you dont have to make a poster at all. This image is perfect as is. Looks Great. Just upload it as the final soon!

#53

Hey Fed! Im sorry by have stressed you. My comment about the poster lay-out was because in your post: Concept / pre-visualization: concept 3, you wrote House of … . So I thought you would still make the lay-out. And I was waiting for it. I was wrong. Again, my sincere apologies … :wavey:
In fact the image is fantastic. :applause:

#54

Software: Maya,mental ray,Photoshop

Elle avait toujours vécu ici, dans la maison de son père, quâ??il avait hérité du sien. Lorsque, jeune fille, bien des années auparavant, elle avait épousé le fils du voisin, elle était restée. Ils avaient vécu ici, elle avait mis au monde ses enfants dans cette maison, leurs rires avaient empli de joie ces murs.
Et puis, le temps a fané le bonheur. La Mort a semé ses graines de discorde et de chagrin. Elle lui a prit une fille. Puis un fils. Puis son époux bien aimé. Son dernier enfant avait mis fin à ses jours, pendu à la plus haute branche du saule pleureur du jardin.
Lâ??allée de granit, jadis soigneusement entretenue par son bien aimée, ne serait plus désherbée. Les arbres ne seraient plus taillés, le potager ne serait plus ensemencé.
La peinture sâ??écaillait maintenant, le marbre de la terrasse se fissurait, les volets grinçaient dans un sinistre cri sous les murmures du vent.
Et puis, ces messieurs de la ville étaient venus. Ils avaient voulu racheter sa demeure, pour la détruire et y construire une résidence luxueuse, lui avaient-ils dit, une liasse de billets à la main. Elle leur avait ouvert, les avait convié à prendre le thé pour en discuter.
Lâ??orage était venu, les bloquant à la maison. Bonne hôtesse, elle leur avait offert le gîte pour la nuit.
Personne ne les revit jamais.
Un jour, des années plus tard, ce fut ce jeune couple dâ??étudiants, de passage dans la région, qui vint demander asile pour la nuit à la faveur dâ??un autre orage de printemps comme la région en connaissait tant depuis des siècles. Ils nâ??auraient pas du fouiner, ô non, ils nâ??auraient pas du.

Câ??était sa maison. Celle de son bien aimé disparu, de ses défunts enfants. Personne ne pourrait la lui prendre. Personne ne violerait son intimité, ses souvenirs, sa tranquillité. Personne.

Ils devaient mourir, tous.

Tous.

She had always lived here, in her fatherâ??s house, who had inherited it from his father.
When young girl, many years earlier, she married the neighbor’s son, she stayed here. They lived here, she gave birth to her children in this house, their laughter filled the walls with joy.
And then, time faded their happiness. Death sowed the seeds of discord and sorrow. She took her girl. Then her son. Then her beloved husband. Her last child ended his days hanging from the highest branch of the weeping willow in the garden.
The granite path , once carefully maintained by her beloved, was no longer weeded. The trees wasn’t cut, the garden wasnâ??t seeded anymore.
The paint was peeling now, the marble ground cracked, the shutters creaked in a sinister cry under the whispers of the wind.
And then arrived these gentlemen from the city. They wanted to buy her house, to destroy it and build a luxury residence, they said, a wad of cash in hand. She let them in, invited them to tea.
When the thunderstorm came, good hostess, she offered them to stay overnight. Nobody ever saw them again.
Years later, a young couple, visiting the region, asked for refuge for the night while the worst spring storm was raging as the area known for centuries. They were too curious. They wouldnâ??t have been that, oh no, they wouldnâ??t have.

It was her home. That of her beloved gone, her late children. Nobody could steal it. Nobody should violate her privacy, her memories, her quietness. Nobody.

They should die, all of them.

All.

#55

The storry came out strange on my CGUploader :s: so i post-it again :

Elle avait toujours vécu ici, dans la maison de son père, qu’il avait hérité du sien. Lorsque, jeune fille, bien des années auparavant, elle avait épousé le fils du voisin, elle était restée. Ils avaient vécu ici, elle avait mis au monde ses enfants dans cette maison, leurs rires avaient empli de joie ces murs.
Et puis, le temps a fané le bonheur. La Mort a semé ses graines de discorde et de chagrin. Elle lui a prit une fille. Puis un fils. Puis son époux bien aimé. Son dernier enfant avait mis fin à ses jours, pendu à la plus haute branche du saule pleureur du jardin.
L’allée de granit, jadis soigneusement entretenue par son bien aimée, ne serait plus désherbée. Les arbres ne seraient plus taillés, le potager ne serait plus ensemencé.
La peinture s’écaillait maintenant, le marbre de la terrasse se fissurait, les volets grinçaient dans un sinistre cri sous les murmures du vent.
Et puis, ces messieurs de la ville étaient venus. Ils avaient voulu racheter sa demeure, pour la détruire et y construire une résidence luxueuse, lui avaient-ils dit, une liasse de billets à la main. Elle leur avait ouvert, les avait convié à prendre le thé pour en discuter.
L’orage était venu, les bloquant à la maison. Bonne hôtesse, elle leur avait offert le gîte pour la nuit.
Personne ne les revit jamais.
Un jour, des années plus tard, ce fut ce jeune couple d’étudiants, de passage dans la région, qui vint demander asile pour la nuit à la faveur d’un autre orage de printemps comme la région en connaissait tant depuis des siècles. Ils n’auraient pas du fouiner, ô non, ils n’auraient pas du.

C’était sa maison. Celle de son bien aimé disparu, de ses défunts enfants. Personne ne pourrait la lui prendre. Personne ne violerait son intimité, ses souvenirs, sa tranquillité. Personne.

Ils devaient mourir, tous.

Tous.

She had always lived here, in her father’s house, who had inherited it from his father.
When young girl, many years earlier, she married the neighbor’s son, she stayed here. They lived here, she gave birth to her children in this house, their laughter filled the walls with joy.
And then, time faded their happiness. Death sowed the seeds of discord and sorrow. She took her girl. Then her son. Then her beloved husband. Her last child ended his days hanging from the highest branch of the weeping willow in the garden.
The granite path , once carefully maintained by her beloved, was no longer weeded. The trees wasn’t cut, the garden wasn’t seeded anymore.
The paint was peeling now, the marble ground cracked, the shutters creaked in a sinister cry under the whispers of the wind.
And then arrived these gentlemen from the city. They wanted to buy her house, to destroy it and build a luxury residence, they said, a wad of cash in hand. She let them in, invited them to tea.
When the thunderstorm came, good hostess, she offered them to stay overnight. Nobody ever saw them again.
Years later, a young couple, visiting the region, asked for refuge for the night while the worst spring storm was raging as the area known for centuries. They were too curious. They wouldn’t have been that, oh no, they wouldn‘t have.

It was her home. That of her beloved gone, her late children. Nobody could steal it. Nobody should violate her privacy, her memories, her quietness. Nobody.

They should die, all of them.

All.

#56

It came out really amazingly creeply great Fed!

Congrats all around! :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

#57

Hey Fed! Im sorry by have stressed you. My comment about the poster lay-out was because in your post: Concept / pre-visualization: concept 3, you wrote House of … . So I thought you would still make the lay-out. And I was waiting for it. I was wrong. Again, my sincere apologies … :wavey:
In fact the image is fantastic. :applause:

haa, yes, I completly forgot that sketch I made :)

[u]Aven99 :[/u] thanks again and again, your came very well out too :beer:

Here some zoom in, to show some details that may not be visible in the little version :



#58

and some more :


#59

Lovely final image mate!! Nice feel to it!! Good Luck with the comp matey!! :thumbsup:

#60

Thank you paper boy :slight_smile:

I forget to add credit to my image ! so here are they :

Cgtextures.com (textures)
mayang.com (textures)
imageafter.com (photo)

A big thanks to my Girlfriend :slight_smile: ! who keeped me motivated all the time, and helped me a lot with the background/story, and gived me many suggestions on the image !

And thanks to all of you who gived me your impression on the concept and wips.

#61

Great job Yannick !
Lots of details in this picture !
I wish you the best with the results !
See ya !

#62

:slight_smile: Thanks Giles ! It’s alway cool to get nice CC from the man who learned me how to !
It’s sad you did not get time to work on your image, I was impatient to see the Hell-grandmother ^^

See you

#63

I learned you things but it was a long time ago ! I am sure you would learn me things now !

Sorry about the hell grandmother…
I didn’t find time and motivation…

Maybe next time.
See you soon !