Students. Hobbyists. Aspiring filmmakers. Somebody, somewhere, ought to be interested in this pitch.

The author of a Science Fiction series has assets to share!

• Blender and Unreal Engine models — two flying houses. See the video.
• Character designs
• A story universe
• An action scene suitable for adaptation into a 3-to-5 minute animated short

Mura Upadravin’s Regrettable Indiscretion

A serving suggestion, if you please

They were straightening up the catering counter when Loyal House sounded an alarm. A virtual helm console appeared between Francine and the dishwasher. The house pushed up, then sideways. She barked with surprise, grabbing at an open cabinet door. Display panels popped into augmented reality, forming a circle with her at the center.

Exterior cameras followed four intruders falling into the ocean, one of them trailing smoke.

Loyal House reported, “Enemy destroyed, shell intact, flank speed, acquiring altitude, staging Saraf Drive, waiting for instructions.”

Henri chittered at them from a sofa, clinging to a pillow, eyes like saucers. As soon as the deck steadied, he shot across the room into Elbert’s arms. Francine kicked shut the cabinet door she’d been hanging onto, cursing. “Is the woman insane?”

Left to right: Claude, Francine, Elbert, Henri

Upadravin House, The Peoples’ Sea

Mura Upadravin watched a replay during which four gun cameras blanked out at the same instant. Her thirty-fives were destroyed so quickly they didn’t even have time to report return fire. She was shocked, suddenly disabused of the notion that no flying house could possibly stand up to diamond lasers. Fear clawed at her intestines.

Upadravin House was flying in H2 airspace, transponder off., adversaries half a planet away. They’ll never find me, and if they do, it’ll be days from now. There was, she thought, plenty of time to decide what to do.

A lance of coherent light pierced the ceiling — humming, crackling, flashing combustibles instantly out of existence, producing a caustic stench, followed by smoke and flames.

Mura would have darted here and there, screaming her lungs out, but there was no time for that. In seconds, she was standing in her parlor with only two opposing walls preventing what remained of the roof from caving in.

The counterattack was apparently over. There was no sound except wind whipping through her legs.

A black PMI Interceptor bearing the Vasa State sigil hovered two meters past the new edge of her house, operator’s window rolled down, a uniformed Mahat Limar hanging his arm out. “Where’d you get the thirty-fives?”

She looked down at her feet. The remainder of domicile was losing altitude, but miraculously still flying. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Who wants to know?”

Roman Nataf wiggled fingers at her. “Bye.”

She stammered. “They came off a migration ship.”

“Who, specifically, gave them to you?”

Mura hesitated. The house dropped, the aircar did not. She shuffled to the edge, steadying herself against a wall, looking up, raising her voice. “An executive at Tvastar Geotechnical.” She shouted her co-conspirator’s name.

The planet came up to meet her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Mura Upadravin understood it was fair to be abandoned, consigned to H2’s unforgiving sea, because that’s what she would have done.

But wait! There’s more!

Indeed, there is. More work than I can tackle.

I’m not stuck on this storyline. I’m not stuck on anything.

The Loyal House model, in Blender and UE5, is ready to fly. However, before it can be used as a soundstage, it’ll need some work.

I was talking about this to my cousin the other day. She said, “Where are the students, in those programs, at those schools, where they’re supposed to be learning how to do these things?”

Yeah! That's what I want to know.