Yesterday, Greg Tito gave us the story of Mark, the man who built whoosh-y sliding Star Trek door in his home. Watching the video inspired me to undertake some serious renovations to my own domicile. May I give you the grand tour?
You’ll notice that, from the outside, it doesn’t look like much. Thanks to some time lord science, I was able to make it much bigger on the inside, while still keeping the home’s physical footprint quite small. This results in lower property taken, and the ability to live almost anywhere, as physical property space does not pose any real restriction.
(If you’re just looking to brush up on your time lord science, you’ll find it at 0:30.)
Looking inside, you’ll notice the library on your right.
Books line the walls in floor-to-ceiling shelves, and the room has the requisite fireplace and leather armchairs. It smells faintly of pipe smoke and, of course, rich mahogany. These are all standard requirements for any such dedicated library, but the real innovation is sitting just on that shelf in front of you. You see, while this room is enormous, and stuffed full of books, complete with sliding ladders to reach them, sometimes you just need to find a book right away. This shelf contains a dozen books lifted, at great risk, from the offices of Wolfram and Hart. They’re source books, linked to every other book in our library. I’ve reworked them to correspond to the Dewey Decimal system, but otherwise they work just as they did at that infamous law firm. The books appear to be blank, but tell the book what you’d like to read, and the pages fill with your desired text. These source books appeared in last season of Angel, where they were used to locate prophecies and the like. In my home, they’re most frequently used to look up quotations and win bets. The actual books are here for casual reading, but I cannot tell you what an invaluable resource these source books have turned out to be.
You may recognize the bay window here, just in the front of the library, looking out onto the street. It’s modeled after the window at 742 Evergreen Terrace, right down to the cushioned window seat. It’s a lovely nook, and with its buttery yellow curtains and bright fuchsia woodwork, the most colorful part of my redesigned home. The seat is ideal for huddling in the throes of anxiety after your nanny leaves, as evidenced in “Simpsoncalifragilisticexpiala(annoyed grunt)cious,” or for lying in wait to catch your would-be killer, as it was used in “The Great Louse Detective.”
My personal use would be to burrow in and hide when your dinner party guests get all divorce-y, or to curl up with the newest Radioactive Man. Continuing through the rest of the library, just a few feet from the window is the sofa. This handsome piece is upholstered in a sumptuous burgundy leather with a well-established ass groove. Facing the sofa is some of the home’s most recognizable art, Scene From Moby Dick.
The kitchen is just down the hall from the library.
You’ll note that it looks very much like Serenity‘s kitchen, and that’s intentional. There’s never been a fictional kitchen that seemed homier to me, so when renovating the kitchen, I knew just where to look. The roundness of the room makes it cozy and inclusive, while allowing ample room to run around and play. This is a social kitchen, filled with homey touches and nooks for dining, cooking, and conversation. It’s nothing too fancy in terms of equipment, but that just ensures that there’s nothing fancy to be broken. While it may not be the best equipped, it’s certainly the cheeriest, with yellow cabinets and hand-painted vines and leaves running every which way. “War Stories,” the Firefly episode in which Wash and Mal are tortured, is the surprising source for one of the best scenes set in Serenity‘s kitchen.
(If you’re just looking for the kitchen, you’ll find it at 4:50.)
One personal change to this kitchen is the addition of a replicator. It makes little sense to have a replicator in such a well-loved and oft-used kitchen, and even less when you learn how I love to cook, but this replicator isn’t used in a purely traditional sense. It doesn’t produce prepared foods, but rather produces ingredients. This essentially provides the kitchen with a never-ending pantry, so no recipe ever requires a special trip to the grocery for one specific ingredient.
The master bedroom is within close proximity to the kitchen, to facilitate midnight cheese runs.
As my best friend says of Bruce Wayne, “He’s usually dating about four women at once, he’s got to have a big bed.” Not only is this friend apparently a perv, but he exaggerates. The bed in Batman Begins was the inspiration for the bed in this home, and it’s not that big at all. Wayne’s a billionaire, but he uses the vast majority of resources to support the work of his alter ego. An opulent bed doesn’t fit into the plan, but he has to sleep somewhere. No matter how hard he pushes himself, a sleep-deprived Batman is no good to anyone. This leaves us with the lovely, probably queen sized bed we have here. Note the use of multiple woods and the intricate handiwork, both in the construction and the decoration of the headboard. The bed unfortunately does not appear exactly as it does in the film, as Bruce Wayne is not in the bed. I strive for the most faithful reproductions, though, and am working on it.
Just off the bedroom is the master bath.
This home actually features two showers. On your left as you enter the master bath is a traditional, water-based shower, for general cleansing and relaxing purposes. On your right, you’ll find a sonic shower, which cleanses with sonic vibrations instead. This secondary shower is convenient for those in a hurry, without the time to dry their hair, for example. It also provides the homeowner the opportunity to take more control of their water consumption. You may recognize this technology from later Star Trek series, such as Deep Space Nine and Voyager, where such showers were shown to be both effective and relaxing. As I said, this bathroom has both, so you can compare and contrast.
(If you’re just looking for the shower, you’ll find it at 0:42.)
Finally, just outside the bathroom, you’ll find a linen closet. It may seem unremarkable, but this closet was lifted from 17 Highbrow St, and imported into this home fully intact. From time to time, a pig and a lizard appear in this linen closet, which elevates this towel receptacle to a place of excitement and hilarity. It’s nice. Dark, but nice.
(If you’re just looking for the closet, you’ll find it at 1:40.)
