June 18, 2018, 01:50:37 AM

Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.



------------------------------------------

If you have Login Problems Use the Login in Top Menu Bar


------------------------------------------
If you have a problem registering here, Leave a msg at our FB Page >> Here.

Plz Don't use Hotmail to Register. You might not receive Activation mail. Use Other free mail provider like Gmail or Yahoo.






Topics - Fronomenal

Pages: [1] 2
1
Other / Favorite Waifu Archetype
« on: May 30, 2018, 09:07:52 PM »
What are your favorite archetypes of female characters in anime?

I'm personally a sucker for the tomboy/female brawler type waifu. As soon as I see a chick with some finger-less combat gloves assuming a boxing stance, I'm hooked. I love a good silent and mysterious ninja girl as well.

2
Anime Talk / Who Really Should've won???
« on: May 09, 2018, 12:21:29 AM »
Alright guys, this topic is for us anime fans to discuss and rant over our favorite anime fights or just popular fights in general. In this topic, we're going to name a fight and discuss who actually should've won that fight, while providing facts to support our claims, regardless of the actual victor of said fight. Feel free to rant as you do so. You're bound to do it sooner or later.

I'll start this off with a fight from Bleach that will forever bug me to my core.

Who Really Should've Won: Ichigo Kurosaki vs Kenpachi Zaraki

Look man, I understand Ichigo had unlocked a massive amount of spiritual energy when he dealt the victory blow to Kenpachi, but still everything leading up to that moment was Ichigo basically getting toyed with and smacked around. Kenpachi could've easily won the fight if he had wanted to and that's what bugs me so much about it.

My memory of bleach is pretty shot, so I'm unsure if that fight was ruled as a win for ichigo or a tie, but regardless, I still think that Kenpachi should've utterly demolished Ichigo. If not that, at least to the point where he beats up Ichigo so much that he ends up being impressed by his resiliency and decides to spare him out of respect. Then again, that possibility probably wouldn't even fall in line with Kenpachi's character.   

3
Video / PC Games / Video game series that are must buys
« on: March 08, 2018, 09:15:17 PM »
What series of video games that holds that special place in your heart, to where if a new title in that particular franchise drops, you rush with your wallets to buy or at least get yours hands on, regardless of how you feel about the series overall?

I feel like we all have at least one series like this. Here are mine:

-Any capcom made fighting game (Street Fighter, Marvel vs Capcom, etc)

-The Persona series (Although admittedly I can't really get into the dancing spin-offs)

-Soul Calibur

-The WWE 2k games (Formerly known as the smackdown vs raw series)

-Smash Bros

-Devil May Cry (Really need to get around to playing the old ones)

-Dragonball Z games

Will add more if I can think of any I may be forgetting.

 

4
General Manga writer discussions / Thoughts on Mobile Writing?
« on: January 10, 2018, 07:01:49 PM »
The advancement of mobile technology throughout the years has, without a doubt, benefited writers tremendously. Everything, from reading books to writing our thoughts down in journals, can all be done with our smartphones.

Even this topic I'm starting right now is being written by me on my smartphone, heading my way home from work via bus. A very smelly bus at that.

With all that said, I was wondering if any of you guys use your phones as an added tool for your writing? Have you used them for any of your story writing? Do you journal on them during a lunch break at work? If so, what mobile software do you often fancy yourself with? I myself dabble between the Google docs app and another app called "Writer."

Of course, nothing will ever beat a good ol' sit down at the computer in your home. But you gotta admit, writing on the go via smartphone is both practical and very convenient in my opinion.

5
Manga Creations / MRverse: The Return of the Drifter
« on: January 09, 2018, 08:12:12 PM »
Torn by painful memories that tortured his soul...
He drifted about, with nowhere to go....
Oh troubled Drifter, just how long will you roam...
In search of a place that you may call home...


Killing Demons

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1D3G2VGQ_8

An ominous chill crawled down Fronomenal’s spine as he wandered amidst a field of darkness. He hated this
feeling, the feeling of resented shadows creeping up on him. He was accustomed to this presence of errieness, and he hated himself much for it. Visiting the past knowing the mental anguish it caused him had always been his own doing of course.

Why did I come back here…?

The question nagged at him as he peered at the fog covered pitch blackness ahead of him. The fog’s mist was a veil for this realm, but Fronomenal could see right through it’s jagged form. He shifted his attention to the sky above him. It was a darkened red, much like the color of old blood. A sullen look of dread escaped him as he gazed upon it with his dreary brown eyes. He hated how the sky looked. It made him feel sick.

Then again, where else can I go…?

Footprints of his black boots marked a trail on the crusty ground of brown behind him. His short curly afro itched from the murkiness of the chilling air. He scratched at it in an attempt to resolve the issue, but it only led to more bothersome itching that was now nagging at his entire upper body. He unzipped his black, silk jacket and began tugging on his shirt repeatedly, combating the itch with every tug. When the itching had finally subsided, he groaned. He had won a battle, but it wasn’t the one that mattered. A more troublesome battle still raged on- a battle with himself.

Why am I even alive…

Fro’s left hand balled into a fist, trembling with a rage that ate at his very soul. He closed his eyes. The dark world of the physical had vanished in his mind’s eye, and yet he couldn’t escape the darkness that enveloped his own inner world. He stood idle in this self imagined blackness, a faint light outlining his form. As he stood frozen, flashes of black and white imagery scattered around him. The images were a blur, but faces could be seen, smiling faces, and Fro’s face was among them. It was a moment of happiness. A happiness long lost. It was a memory from a past that he wished he could return to, but he knew that reality was now only a foolish fantasy. Those smiles no longer comforted him. They only served to mock him.

I’m never getting that back… Maybe I should just…

“It- its’s y-you!”

Fro snapped back to reality upon hearing the sound of a frightened voice coming from behind him. He turned to see a man trembling a few feet away from him. He was dripping with sweat and his eyes bulged to the point of almost of falling out. However, the most important thing to note was the silver handgun twitching in his right hand. Fro’s attention was set solely on the gun.

“Who are y-”

“Haha!” The terrified man bursted into a nervous laugh that cut off Fro mid sentence. “I-I thought it was just rumors, but it’s true! I can’t believe it… you’re really here!”

Fro shot the man a look of confusion. “Do we know each other?”

“You don’t know me,” The man began, stuttering. “But I sure know a hell of alot about you!”

Fro’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure of how to respond to the man’s suspicious claims.

“You’re him aren’t you?” The Terror of the Dark Net. You’re Frosiah! AREN'T YOU!?”

Fro eyes quickly widened upon hearing that cursed name. He averted his eyes away from the man with a look of shame on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Don’t you bull*censored* me! You look a little different now, but I can tell that you’re him. That afro and those killer brown eyes…” The man raised his hand pointing a finger at Fro with a maniacal grin. “YOU’RE REALLY HIM! HAHA! AIN’T NO WAY AROUND IT! YOU’RE FROSIAH!!!”

Fro’s ignored the man’s claims and turned his back on him. “That name is retired homie… That isn’t me anymore.”

Fro slowly walked away from the crazy bastard. Suddenly…

BANG!

The harsh sound halted him. He turned back around and saw the smoking barrel of a pistol aimed at him. His face darkened with annoyance as he glared back at the man who had a sudden look of determination about him.

“Don’t you walk away from me you bastard! I’ve waited years for this moment and I won’t let you ruin this chance!”

“What do you want from me?”

“REVENGE!”

Bang! The man fired off another shot. The bullet flew quickly past Fro, narrowly missing him, but that was on purpose. Fro, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Revenge? For what? I haven't done anything to you. “

“Oh, but you have!” The man screamed with a disturbing raspiness in his voice. He was laughing even harder now, as if he had now lost his mind. “This face doesn’t look familiar to you does it?” Well take it a good look at it! Tell me… WHO DO I LOOK LIKE!?”

Fro scrunched his face as he took a good look at the man. He was an ugly individual with a long face and a blonde bowl cut. Stand out features for sure, but none of them were ringing any bells for Fro.

“C’mon now, think hard on it.” The man pressed. “You know this face. I know you do!”

Fro shook his head in disagreement. “Sorry, I don’t.”

“Playing dumb eh? I see how it is then… Does the name ‘Warhammer Jimmy’ ring any bells for ya?”

“Warhammer…” The name echoes in Fro’s mind. Another image flashed in his head. Again, it was blur, but the bleary image of a towering giant slowly focused into a clear view. It was holding a massive hammer, grinning with murderous intentions. A mess of shaggy blond hair draped over his crimson colored eyes. A monster one would assume, but it was indeed human. When the image faded and the realization finally settled in, Fro’s face lit up with an alarming look of utter shock.

“Oh it’s finally hitting ya now isn’t it?” The man chuckled. “That look on your face says it all.”

“How do you know him?”

“How do I know him? I KNOW HIM BECAUSE HE WAS MY LITTLE BROTHER YOU *censored*HEAD!!!”

“Brother…” Fro whispered. The fact caught him off guard. A sudden feeling of guilt welled up inside of him. He was at a loss for words.

“That’s right! Warhammer Jimmy, once the most feared individual on the Dark Net, was my little brother. He was a monstrous killer, who murdered every and any person who crossed his path. No could stop him. And then you showed up.. And murdered him!”

Fro felt a swelling squeezing at his throat. “I didn’t mean to…”

“BULL*censored*!” The man shouted, firing off another round into the air randomly. “You killed him with no remorse! You didn’t have a single ounce mercy when you did it. I know this because you were exactly him!”

“...What…”

“Oh don’t think I don’t know about your past. Everybody in the Dark Net knows about you. The infamous Dark Frosiah who killed approximately thirty two inhabitants of the Dark Net, who all of which were killers in their own right. You were talk of the town at one point ya know? Everyone was afraid of you, yet so many admired you..And then, one day you vanished. Never to be seen or heard of again.”

Fro wanted to deny the man’s claims, but he couldn’t. The look of disheartment on his face was confirmation of the horrible truth.

“So tell me… How did it feel killing all those people? How did it feel killing my brother? Did you enjoy it? Did you get some sick, twisted pleasure from it?” HUH!? TELL ME!”

“He attacked me… I didn’t want to-”

“My brother was a good kid in real life ya know?” The man’s tone shifted into sadness, as if he was about burst into tears. “He was always wanted to be liked by others, but everyone hated him. He was a loser in real life. No one cared for him and he hated that. He hated that he was different from everyone else, that he was ugly and everyone else wasn’t. He didn’t fit in with the cool kids, and he almost took his own life because of it.”

Tears were now trickling down the man’s cheek as he spoke. Fro watched on in silence, unable to speak.

“And then that’s when he found it. The dark side of the internet. It was all scary to him at first, but he soon realized that it was the perfect place for someone like him. There, he could be someone other than himself. He could be someone new, someone different. Someone that could be feared and respected. He can pay everyone back for how they treated him. He could kill with no consequences, no shame, no regrets. He could be the person he always wanted to be.”


The man was now slowly inching towards Fro, pointing his gun at him, arms shaking with a festering rage.

“And so I watched him enter that portal into this realm that we’re standing in right now. I followed him, hoping I could stop him, but it was too late. He was gone. I wanted to help him, to tell him he didn’t have go down the dark path he was traveling, but I couldn’t reach him. I was the total opposite of my brother and I’ve always hated myself for it! And now that he’s gone I can’t forgive myself. And I won’t forgive you either!”

“Just because your brother was a punk ass who was treated unfairly doesn’t give him the right to kill innocent people!” Fro finally retorted.

“SHUT UP! What gives you right to say something like that!? A heartless murderer like you has no business to speak on right and wrong!”

“Dawg, I’m telling you I didn’t mea-

“You couldn’t possibly understand what my brother went through! What I went through! My brother was the only family I ever had and you took that away from me! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE!? TO LOSE THE ONLY FAMILY YOU EVER HAD!? DO YA PUNK!? DO YA!?”

Fro’s eyes dilated. Everything around him had frozen. His face went blank and his vision blacked out for just a second.

In the next moment, he snapped.

Fro whipped his right hand forward and shot out a single tendril of hair from his palm that lashed at the man. The man readied his gun to shoot, but soon found it slipping from his grasp as the tendril had now wrapped itself tightly around his neck, strangling him. He clawed at the rope of hair with whatever strength he had, but it was to no avail.

“You think I don’t know what’s it’s like to lose a family…” Fro muttered in a cold voice.

The hair tendril slowly raised itself higher into the air, suspending the man as it did so. With every inch it ascended he could feel all of his strength leaving him. He stared with struggling eyes at the individual getting ready to take his life. “Those eyes…” The man echoed in his head. “Those goddamn eyes!”

“YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S LOST A FAMILY!?”

With a hard clench, Fro swung the the tendril downwards, slamming the man on the ground with a loud crash. The man spat out blood upon impact.

“I WAS BETRAYED, MY ENTIRE FAMILY KILLED RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE!?”

A purplish dark energy began to ooze out of Fro’s body. It circled around him, enveloping him in a glowing outline of dark purple.

He swung the tendril upwards only to slam it back down on the ground a second later. Even as he collided with the ground, the man still continued to struggle to free himself from Fro’s grip.

“YOUR BROTHER ATTACKED ME! I DIDN’T WANT TO KILL HIM! I HAD TO DEFEND MYSELF!”

Another slam and another. Fro’s assault was relentless. His eyes beaded with a fiery rage. His veins looked as if going to pop out of his skin. The man could only choke and gasp for air. He was helpless. He was at the mercy of his attacker, who seemed to show no sign of sparing him.

After yet another slam, Fro launched the man way into the air with a forceful thrust. During mid flight, he stops the tendrils momentum, and kept the man suspended in the air. He could see the victim’s arms dangling helplessly at his sides. The man’s face was nearly lifeless, his gasps for breath had been subdued into silent grunts. His end was immediate.

“I didn’t want to kill any of ‘em. I…”

I didn’t know what to do…

Fro’s hand trembled.

“That wasn’t me…”

His grip was slowly loosening. The dark energy emanating from him began to recede. He closed his eyes shut, refusing to accept what had become of him.

I was scared…

“DAMMIT!”

The tendril whipped itself from around the man’s neck counterclockwise, unwrapping and recoiling back into Fro’s palm. The man dropped onto ground as this happened, pressing his hands against his neck, taking deep, exasperated breaths.

Fro was breathing rather heavily himself, trying his best to calm his rage. Opening his eyes, he turned towards his victim, casting him a cold and murderous looking glare.

“Let that be a warning…”

The man sat up and saw the hate burning in his assailant eyes. He pushed himself back with his feet, sliding backwards while whimpering in terror.

“Getcho ass out of here before you’ll end up like yo brother… NOW!”

And with that warning, the man hurled himself up and scurried away, his figure slowly vanishing into the confides of the searing mist.

Fro sighed, once again returning his gaze to the sickening red sky above. He stomach churned at the sight, but he couldn’t look away. His eyes were glued to it, much like his mind was glued to his past. The pain ate at his soul, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness he long wished to fill. But he had grown numb to the pain. That void couldn’t be filled. He knew that. And yet…

“Family, huh…”  The word rang silently in his mind. A faint smile had almost won over him, but his dreary demeanor persisted on.

“Will I ever find that again?”

He wandered.


Fro The Edgelord??? (Killing Demons: Edited)
An ominous chill crawled down Fronomenal’s spine as he wandered amidst a field of darkness. He hated this feeling, the feeling of resented shadows creeping up on him. He was accustomed to this presence of errieness, and he hated himself much for it. Visiting the past knowing the mental anguish it caused him had always been his own doing of course.

Why did I come back here…?

The question nagged at him as he peered at the fog covered pitch blackness ahead of him. The fog’s mist was a veil for this realm, but Fronomenal could see right through it’s jagged form. He shifted his attention to the sky above him. It was a darkened red, much like the color of old blood. A sullen look of dread escaped him as he gazed upon it with his dreary brown eyes. He hated how the sky looked. It made him feel sick.

Then again, where else can I go…?

Footprints of his black boots marked a trail on the crusty ground of brown behind him. His short curly afro itched from the murkiness of the chilling air. He scratched at it in an attempt to resolve the issue, but it only led to more bothersome itching that was now nagging at his entire upper body. He unzipped his black, silk jacket and began tugging on his shirt repeatedly, combating the itch with every tug. When the itching had finally subsided, he groaned. He had won a battle, but it wasn’t the one that mattered. A more troublesome battle still raged on- a battle with himself.

Why am I even alive…

Fro’s left hand balled into a fist, trembling with a rage that ate at his very soul. He closed his eyes. The dark world of the physical had vanished in his mind’s eye, and yet he couldn’t escape the darkness that enveloped his own inner world. He stood idle in this self imagined blackness, a faint light outlining his form. As he stood frozen, flashes of black and white imagery scattered around him. The images were a blur, but faces could be seen, smiling faces, and Fro’s face was among them. It was a moment of happiness. A happiness long lost. It was a memory from a past that he wished he could return to, but he knew that reality was now only a foolish fantasy. Those smiles no longer comforted him. They only served to mock him.

I’m never getting that back… Maybe I should just…

“It- its’s y-you!”

Fro snapped back to reality upon hearing the sound of a frightened voice coming from behind him. He turned to see a man trembling a few feet away from him. He was dripping with sweat and his eyes bulged to the point of almost of falling out. However, the most important thing to note was the silver handgun twitching in his right hand. Fro’s attention was set solely on the gun.

“Who are y-”

“Haha!” The terrified man bursted into a nervous laugh that cut off Fro mid sentence. “I-I thought it was just rumors, but it’s true! I can’t believe it… you’re really here!”
Fro shot the man a look of confusion. “Do we know each other?”
“You don’t know me,” The man began, stuttering. “But I sure know a hell of alot about you!”

Fro’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure of how to respond to the man’s suspicious claims.

“You’re him aren’t you?” The Terror of the Dark Net. You’re Frosiah! AREN'T YOU!?”

Fro eyes quickly widened upon hearing that cursed name. He averted his eyes away from the man with a look of shame on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Don’t you bull*censored* me! You look a little different now, but I can tell that you’re him. That afro and those killer brown eyes…” The man raised his hand pointing a finger at Fro with a maniacal grin. “YOU’RE REALLY HIM! HAHA! AIN’T NO WAY AROUND IT! YOU’RE FROSIAH!!!”

Fro’s ignored the man’s claims and turned his back on him. “That name is retired homie… That isn’t me anymore.”

Fro slowly walked away from the crazy bastard. Suddenly…

BANG!

The harsh sound halted him. He turned back around and saw the smoking barrel of a pistol aimed at him. His face darkened with annoyance as he glared back at the man who had a sudden look of determination about him.

“Don’t you walk away from me you bastard! I’ve waited years for this moment and I won’t let you ruin this chance!”

“What do you want from me?”

“REVENGE!”

Bang! The man fired off another shot. The bullet flew quickly past Fro, narrowly missing him, but that was on purpose. Fro, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Revenge? For what? I haven't done anything to you. “

“Oh, but you have!” The man screamed with a disturbing raspiness in his voice. He was laughing even harder now, as if he had now lost his mind. “This face doesn’t look familiar to you does it?” Well take it a good look at it! Tell me… WHO DO I LOOK LIKE!?”

Fro scrunched his face as analyzed the man. He was an ugly individual with a long face and a blonde bowl cut. Stand out features for sure, but none of them were ringing any bells for Fro.

“C’mon now, think hard on it.” The man pressed. “You know this face. I know you do!”
Fro shook his head in disagreement. “Sorry, I don’t.”

“Playing dumb eh? I see how it is then… Does the name ‘Warhammer Jimmy’ ring any bells for ya?”

“Warhammer…” The name echoes in Fro’s mind. Another image flashed in his head. Again, it was blur, but the bleary image of a towering giant slowly focused into a clear view. It was holding a massive hammer, grinning with murderous intentions. A mess of shaggy blond hair draped over his crimson colored eyes. A monster one would assume, but it was indeed human. When the image faded and the realization finally settled in, Fro’s face lit up with an alarming look of utter shock.

“Oh it’s finally hitting ya now isn’t it?” The man chuckled. “That look on your face says it all.”

“How do you know him?”

“How do I know him? I KNOW HIM BECAUSE HE WAS MY LITTLE BROTHER YOU *censored*HEAD!!!”
“Brother…” Fro whispered. The fact caught him off guard. A sudden feeling of guilt welled up inside of him. He was at a loss for words.

“That’s right! Warhammer Jimmy, once the most feared individual on the Dark Net, was my little brother. He was a monstrous killer, who murdered every and any person who crossed his path. No could stop him. And then you showed up.. And murdered him!”

Fro felt a swelling squeezing at his throat. “I didn’t mean to…”

“BULL*censored*!” The man shouted, firing off another round into the air randomly. “You're nothing but a heartless vigilante who killed not only my brother, but countless other murderers on the Dark Net!

Fro wanted to deny the man’s claims, but he couldn’t. The look of disheartment on his face was confirmation of the horrible truth.

“My brother was a good kid on The Net ya know?” The man’s tone shifted into sadness, as if he was about burst into tears. “He was always wanted to be liked by others, but everyone hated him. He was a loser who everyone trolled and bullied. No one cared for him and he hated that. He hated that he was different from everyone else, that he had a good heart and everyone else didn't. He didn’t fit in at all and he almost took his own life because of it.”

Tears were now trickling down the man’s cheek as he spoke. Fro watched on in silence, unable to speak.

“And then that’s when he found it. The dark side of The Net. It was all scary to him at first, but he soon realized that it was the perfect place for someone like him. There, he could be someone other than himself. He could be someone new, someone different. Someone that could be feared and respected. He can pay everyone back for how they treated him. He could kill with no consequences, no shame, no regrets. He could be the person he always wanted to be. Right here... in this bat *censored* world!”

The man was now slowly inching towards Fro, pointing his gun at him, arms shaking with a festering rage.

“I wanted to help him ya know? I wanted to tell that everything was going to get better and that he didn't have to sink so low. But I was too late. He was already long gone. I hated myself for being unable to stop him, but that's okay now. ‘Cause now I can make it up to him by killing you!”

As the man narrowed the gap between two of them, Fro’s sight fell to the ground, reflecting on the sins he had been accused of. The crazy bastard was right. Fro was a murdering vigilante in his past, and his past was something he could never run from. The Warhammer Jimmy incident was the start of it all, and if that had never happened, he possibly would’ve never strayed down such a dark path.

But doesn’t mean that this psychotic person with no sense of morals had a right to judge him. Or did he? Fro clenched his fist at thought of this, angered by his own mixed emotions.

“I get that your pissed about what I did to your brother,” Fro began, sounding as if he was trying to calm himself.

“But if you honestly think that your brother had a right to kill people because he was some punk ass who couldn’t
handle being bullied, then you’re more insane than he was.”

“SHUT UP! What gives you right to say something like that!? The man aggressively swung his arm to the left.” You couldn’t possibly understand what my brother went through! What I went through! My brother was the only family I ever had and you took that away from me! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE!? TO LOSE A FAMILY THAT YOU LOVED SO DEARLY? DO YA PUNK!? DO YA!?”

Fro’s eyes dilated. Everything around him had frozen. His face went blank and his vision blacked out for just a second. Those smiles were flashing in his head again.

And in the next moment, he snapped.

Fro whipped his right hand forward and shot out a single tendril of hair from his palm that lashed at the man. The man readied his gun to shoot, but soon found it slipping from his grasp as the tendril had now wrapped itself tightly around his neck, strangling him. He clawed at the rope of hair with whatever strength he had, but it was to no avail.

“You think I don’t know what’s it’s like to lose a family…” Fro muttered in a cold voice.

The hair tendril slowly raised itself higher into the air, suspending the man as it did so. With every inch it ascended he could feel all of his strength leaving him. He stared with struggling eyes at the individual getting ready to take his life. “Those eyes…” The man echoed in his head. “Those goddamn eyes!”

“YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S LOST A FAMILY!?”


With a hard clench, Fro swung the the tendril downwards, slamming the man on the ground with a loud crash. The man spat out blood upon impact.

“I WAS BETRAYED, MY ENTIRE FAMILY KILLED RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE!?”

A purplish dark energy began to ooze out of Fro’s body. It circled around him, enveloping him in a glowing outline of dark purple.

He swung the tendril upwards only to slam it back down on the ground a second later. Even as he collided with the ground, the man still struggled to free himself from Fro’s grip.

“YOUR BROTHER ATTACKED ME! I DIDN’T WANT TO KILL HIM! I HAD TO DEFEND MYSELF!”

Another slam and another. Fro’s assault was relentless. His eyes beaded with a fiery rage. His veins looked as if going to pop out of his skin. The man could only choke and gasp for air. He was helpless. He was at the mercy of his attacker, who seemed to show no sign of sparing him.

After yet another slam, Fro launched the man way into the air with a forceful thrust. During mid flight, he stops the tendrils momentum, and kept the man suspended in the air. He could see the victim’s arms dangling helplessly at his sides. The man’s face was nearly lifeless, his gasps for breath had been subdued into silent grunts. His end was immediate.

I was scared…

Fro’s hand trembled.

“That wasn’t me…”

His grip was slowly loosening. The dark energy emanating slowly receded. He closed his eyes shut, refusing to accept what had become of him.

I didn’t know what to do…

“DAMMIT!”

The tendril whipped itself from around the man’s neck counterclockwise, unwrapping and recoiling back into Fro’s palm. The man dropped onto ground as this happened, pressing his hands against his neck, taking deep, exasperated breaths.

Fro was breathing rather heavily himself, trying his best to calm his rage. Opening his eyes, he turned towards his victim, casting him a cold and murderous looking glare.

“Let that be a waring…”

The man sat up and saw the hate burning in his assailant eyes. He pushed himself back with his feet, sliding backwards, whimpering in terror.

“Getcho ass out of here before you end up like yo brother… NOW!”

And with that warning, the man hurled himself up and scurried away, his figure slowly vanishing into the confides of the searing mist.

Fro sighed, once again returning his gaze to the sickening red sky above. He stomach churned at the sight, but he couldn’t look away. His eyes were glued to it, much like his mind was glued to his past. The pain ate at his soul, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness he long wished to fill. But he had grown numb to the pain. That void couldn’t be filled. He knew that. And yet…

“Family, huh…”  The word rang silently in his mind. A faint smile had almost won over him, but his dreary demeanor persisted on.

“Will I ever find that again?”

He wandered.
 
 
 

6
I was snooping around Reddit and saw a link to an article about a writer explaining his writing process. He mentions that he doesn't always write fiction, but he tries to write something everyday. It inspired me to start this topic. Here's the link: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/aug/26/my-writing-day-bernard-maclaverty

I learned something this past year that I already knew, but made much more sense to me when I actually applied it. And it was that no matter what it is, I just should write something. Seriously. Anything. I could care less what it is. Just write it down. I'll flesh it out later with edits.

Some context on my writing history that elaborates why this philosophy means so much to me...

I use to suffer from serious writer's block. Not because I never had the inspiration to write from. I always have fresh ideas to write down. The writer's block I suffered through was being in love with the idea of writing and finishing a story, but hated the process of pushing through the mental hurdles to reach the finish line.

I was dreaming of being a good writer with amazing stories, but I wasn't actually writing. And I hated myself for that.

I hated myself for a lot of things regarding my own writing. Every time I tried to sit down and push a story chapter or scene out of my head and onto paper or a computer screen, I stop midway. "Man something is missing." I used to tell myself. My inner editor was something OP. It really had me feeling that whatever I was writing was just complete garbage and that I shouldn't even finish it. And I didn't. I never finished my projects. "Damn Mike, you call yourself a writer and you can't even finish a scene, or a chapter for that matter?" The guilt and shame I placed on myself killed me inside.

I remember one time in college I had to rewrite a short story that literally had my grade on the line. Since I slacked off so much early in the semester, my professor told me that if I didn't wow her with my rewrite, I was  more than likely going to fail her class. Determined to prove to myself and to her that my writing skills were good enough to pull off miracles, I sat down in front of the family desktop and cracked my knuckles, psyching to myself to write the greatest short story of all time.

I gave up after the first paragraph. My heart sank and my eyes were heavy with shame. I cried. Not because of the fact that I was really going to fail a class for the first time of my life. But because for the first time of my life I truly felt that I was a joke of a writer, and that the only talent I had wasn't worth the time to invest in.

But I still kept writing. Even though I felt my writing was still trash sometimes I still wrote on. My passion for writing wouldn't let me stop. However, instead of focusing on fiction I transitioned into writing journals and funny enough, I found myself feeling more comfortable with my writing, which was something I usually never felt. It was just me talking on the page and for some reason it came much easier to me than writing prose.

Fast forward and I started expressing my writing on a more public space via Facebook. I made up random characters in my head and wrote them down having funny conversations while involved in wacky situations. It was completely dialogue, with little to no exposition given. I gotten some likes, people told me they enjoyed what I wrote. I had fun knowing I can get people to laugh with my writing, so I kept doing it. And eventually, interestingly enough, I adopted the random scenarios I wrote into a idea for a screenplay.

And then something I clicked. I realized that me writing these facebook post every other day had me writing more. Even though it wasn't story ideas I should be focusing on, the act of just writing became a habit. And that was the important part. I started writing more out of habit and as a result I was getting more writing done on my fiction stories as well. Every word I wrote down, regardless of intention, had value to them. And once I started placing value on my writing, finishing stories and fleshing out ideas became easier over time. Simply by removing the stress I placed on myself, I was able to enjoy the act of writing, and that was enough to keep me going.

So when I realized this, I told myself: As long as I just write something down, the stories will eventually finish themselves. Even if I don't finish a piece in one sitting, at least I worked on it. I don't have to follow some strict writing regimen to get work done. It's okay to write a couple a words down a day. Those couple words will turn into a couple hundred, and those couple hundred will turn into a couple thousand.

I'm not perfect of course. I still to this day don't have a complete project under my belt. I have at least 40 google docs worth of journals and unfinished stories. But I'm proud to say compared to my earlier self, I am much more happy with myself as a writer this past year than I have ever been in my entire life. And that in itself is a huge step for me.

This isn't some success story or an attempt to give inspirational advice based on personal experience to inspiring writers on this forum. To be honest, I'm not the guy to provide such enlightenment. This is more of a plea aimed at anyone who is feeling the same way I did when I was a younger writer. And with this being a plea- writers of all skill levels, I beg of you:

Just Write... I don't care what it is... Just write it.

7
MR Pub / A Mangaraiders App
« on: December 05, 2017, 05:27:47 PM »
I'm pretty sure this has been discussed lightly on another discussion board somewhere, and I'm one hundred percent sure that someone had a thought like this bubbling in their heads for awhile now. But I figured a discussion board concerning this topic would be a great one to have.

With that said, this is purely is a topic for throwing out ideas. I'm not very tech savvy, and I absolutely have zero idea on how to create a mobile app, so I wouldn't spearhead a project like this. But hypothetically speaking, if a mangaraiders app was in the works, what would you guys like to see from it? What features would you include? What kind of layout and UI would appeal to you visually?

Also, if this is already a thing, please let me know. Lord knows how out of touch I've been with this place lately.

8
Manga Creations / "The Strand of Truth" An MR Short
« on: December 04, 2017, 01:08:50 PM »
This was an idea I was working on before I disappeared. It was originally intended to be a wacky series involving Lego and myself, but I scrapped the idea and went the short story route instead. Shout out to Lego for assisting me with this one. I figured the least I could do to pay him back was actually finishing this project. Didn't want his efforts going to waste.

This will be spit into parts. The second part is currently being worked on and it will be finished soon. I'll try to have this completed within a reasonable time frame. But for now, without further ado, here is part one The Strand of Truth everybody.

Spoiler
The Strand of Truth Part One
 
    There was once a legend that was seldom spread across the internet. A legend so unusually pointless that even those who specialized in scouring the web for meaningless internet trivia did not care for it.
    
Although most things on the internet were voided of meaning, this particular legend was so disinteresting that when it’s tale was first told, it was immediately brushed off as a terrible joke, and diminished as quickly as an ant thrown into the burning sun.
    
To be more precise, the number of google searches related to this legend was approximately fifty-two. Yes, it was that bad.
    
However, as boring as this legend was perceived it was still undoubtedly true…
    
Far away in a land that nobody never bothered looking for, was a giant cathedral isolated in the middle of desolate wasteland.
    
It was an odd sight to behold, mainly due to the fact that it was really a cathedral in the middle of nowhere. It was black with a shade of rusted grey. The center tower, which was extremely tall, stood firm despite of cracks in its crumbling structure, and adjacent on both sides were smaller towers that were still just as tall. The cathedral had an eerie presence about it— scary almost. Still, it was more random than anything.
    
So was this old, broken-down cathedral the legend that no one cared for? Of course not! Who cares about a stupid cathedral anyway!? Like an overused rpg cliché, the real legend was inside, and it was just as random as the cathedral itself.
    
Inside, at the very end of unnecessarily long hallway, resting in the hands of a old, giant maiden statue that looked looked like it would crumble at any given moment, was a item that radiated a glow of pure uselessness.
    
It was known as “The Strand of Truth…”
    
Yes, that’s right. Inside of a pointless, black cathedral, was a strand of golden hair that shone a circular outline of glowing white. While it was very appealing to look at for a few seconds, it really didn’t have nothing else interesting going for it.
    
Still, even though it seemed void of any practical purposes what’s so ever, there was still a rumor that, while seemingly absurd, was interesting enough to cause someone to care for just a couple of seconds.
    
It has been said that whoever possessed the “Strand of Truth” would gain the power of absolute hair immortality. In less absurd terms, it meant that whoever cared enough to acquire it would be blessed with long lasting, forever rejuvenating hair. There have been other mysteries that the Strand of Truth contained, but no one cared long enough to speculate.
    
For years the Strand of Truth went unexplored. Overshadowed by legends that were more worthy of one’s time, the Strand of Truth remained in the halls of the abandoned cathedral, collecting more dust than an attic full of old newspaper.
    
That is, until one day, a man who could never find anything more constructive to do with his life, decided to search for the forgotten legend.
    
That man’s name was Fronomenal. And he was a mangaraider.
    
Fronomenal treaded through the wasteland on his white sneakers, wiping away the sweat that poured down on his brown forehead from the exhausting heat. Despite the burning temperature, Fro was fully clothed— Rocking a black T shirt under a black and white leather jacket that he really needed to take off soon, and torturing his lower body with a pair of white jeans. The real victim in all of this, however, was his incredibly large afro, which had absorbed more heat waves than Fro had hoped for. Even his hair pick, which rested in the center of his hair, had developed a sizzling sting during the course of the journey.
    
Fro peered ahead with his squinting brown eyes, covering his forehead with his right arm in an attempt to block the mischievous rays of the sun. Since he had traveling the barren land for what seemed hours, he had hoped that the cathedral would be close by now. But with the combination of the burning sun and his own dehydration clouding his good sense of judgement, he wasn’t really sure where he was anymore.
    
Still, he didn’t lose focus. His face was relaxed and his demeanor was calm. He was only concerned with one thing and one thing only— “The Strand of Truth.”
    
Being a member of Mangaraiders, a community where aspiring manga artist and writers come together to share their work with one another, you would think a guy like Fro would have more constructive things to do such as: working on a new story or participating in a community workshop. But no. Instead of spending his time productively in a place often called his second home, Fro would rather waste his time scouring the globe for pointless things to do— like the adventure he’s on right now.
    
Besides, Fro kind of sucks at writing anyway…
    
“Jesus, it’s hot!” he sighed, trying to maintain his composure.
    
Unzipping his Jacket, he reached for a water bottle from his left inside pocket. He leaned his head back, opened his mouth wide and held the bottle over his lips, expecting a surge of refreshing water to slide down his dry throat.
    
“Eh?”

Unfortunately, not a drop was spilt. He had already drunk all of it.

“Gawddammit!”

Fro kicked the bottle viciously in frustration and watched as it flew off into the distance. For a second, he almost regretted doing so, considering that he had a lot more ground to cover, and he may have gotten lucky and ran into a random puddle of muddy water. But, it no longer mattered— for he saw something ahead that possibly looked like his destination.

“Is that…”

It was. With his blurry vision suddenly becoming clear, he saw it— the figure of a black tower looming in the distance. While it was hard to see at first, there was no mistaking it. The black cathedral that Fro had been searching for was just up ahead.

Excited and relieved, Fro burst out into a excited run, completely ignoring the grogginess he had been feeling throughout his journey. The cathedral was quite a ways away, and it would’ve took a normal person at least another twenty minutes to reach it. Fro on the other hand, was beyond normal. Dashing at an incredible speed, he arrived on the front steps of the cathedral before a minute had passed.

“So this is it, huh?”

He had already seen pictures of it through images he browsed on the internet, but seeing it up close was completely dumbfounding.

His eyes slowly widened as he examined the magnificent structure. While the random factor was still apparent, it was regardless, a beautiful piece of architecture. However, he didn’t spend too much time marveling at it. Turning his attention toward the ornate patterned doors in front of him, he pressed his hands on the firm, black wood, slowly pushed the creaky doors open and made his way inside.

As he walked inside, Fro whistled, impressed by the cathedral’s interior design. Black marble floors with a squared pattern. Rows of thick, old, yet sturdy black columns aligned on both sides. And the grey maiden statue, which was at the very end, complimented even more so with its simple aesthetic. The only thing missing, however, was the typical assortment of benches found in normal cathedrals. While the hallway was already uncomfortably long and spacious, the absence of the benches made it even more so.

But all this quickly became irrelevant to Fro the moment he fixed his sight on the glowing light at the end of the hall.

“There it is!”

Despite being unable to make it out clearly, Fro could tell that the brilliant white light at the end of the hall was indeed the Strand of Truth. The light it shone excited him.  Not wasting another second, he began to make a dash for the golden strand, but quickly halted his advance when a felt a presence lurking behind him.

“Hm!?”

Turning his head to the right, he spotted in his peripheral what appeared to be a bolt of lightning rapidly approaching him. He managed to sidestep to his left, barely dodging the strike. In the next instant the ground shook as the bolt of lightning struck the ground with a loud smack, turning the area of smooth marble into a miniature crater.

“Damn that was a close!” Fro said slightly relieved. A second later and he would have been a melted puddle of hair strands.

“Now who the hell-”

Before he could finish asking himself the question of just who in the world would attack him, the sight of the his attacker suddenly appearing before him cut off him by surprise. He pulled on his afro, both confused and frustrated.

“Dawg, you gotta be kidding me…”

Gracefully descending from the air above before him was a dark skinned man adorned in a black pea coat with a white trim, that overlapped the white collared shirt and black trousers he was wearing underneath. Upon landing, the familiar faced individual adjusted his orange colored spectacles and greeted Fro with a smirk that Fro wasn’t very happy to see. His arch rival Legomaestro had just appeared before him and knowing their historic past, he knew a massive headache was going to nag at him soon.

“Sup Baldy.” Lego snickered.

“Lego, why dawg? Why are you here?

“Don’t play dumb with me Frono! You know why I am here.”

“I really don’t, homie…”

Lego stomped the ground. “Yes you do!

Fro shook his head, genuinely confused. “Yeah, I really don’t…”

Lego groaned. He felt as if Fro was just trolling him at this point. Like a child throwing a tantrum he pointed towards the strand of truth and motioned Fro to look at it.

“That!” Lego shouted. “That’s what I’m here for! You’re here for the same reason are you not?”

“I mean yeah, but like… I still don’t exactly get WHY you’re here for the Strand of truth.”

“What? Are you kidding me, Frono?” Lego pointed his finger at his shiny bald head that gleamed as if on cue. “Look at me, Fro. I’m freaking bald for crying out loud! I have every reason to be here right now.”

A bubble of laughter was beginning to swell up and burst out inside Fro, and he was trying his best to hold it back. The Legomaestero he once knew was not standing before him. The Lego he once knew had an afro that was just as enormous as his. Hell, they often debated on who had the better afro. And now that Lego was a shell of his former self, Fro kind of felt bad for his former afro compadre. Still it was funny though, so he couldn’t help laughing at him.

“Aye Lego, I’m not gonna lie, ever since you went bald you’ve been kinda trash.” He said laughing hysterically.

“How dare you laugh at my pain!” Lego growled. “You don’t know what it’s like to be bald, Fro!”

“I’ve been bald before….”

“Huh? For real dude? Do you have the pictures?”

“Yeah, but I’m not showing you.”

“What!? Hmph whatever. I could care less.”

 Lego materialized a black femto katana in his right hand and swung it to his right. The force of the swing generated a wave of wind that decimated a nearby column. Lego’s expression seemed almost murderous.

“Ever since I went bald I’ve been made into a running joke. Baldomaestro they called me. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I took pride in my afro, and now that’s it’s gone I’m a shell of my former self. That’s why I’m here, Fro. I’m here to reclaim the glory of my former self. To show the world that I, Legomaestro, am not a joke and that I have the greatest afro in the universe!

Fronomenal yawned, not very touched by Lego’s speech.

“That’s it?”

“Well yeah…” Lego said sounding a little insecure. “I spent a lot of time preparing that speech you know…”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Well, why are you here then? You certainly don’t need long lasting hair rejuvenation.”

“Well, I’m only here because I had nothing better to do. And to be perfectly honest, I feel a little inclined to let you have the strand of truth after hearing your little sob story. However…”

Fro doffed his leather jacket and tossed it to the side. He readied a kung fu like stance.

“You’d be a fool if you thought I’ll just let you just take the strand of truth without me beating your face in.”

Lego smiled and readied his own stance in response.

“Heh. I didn’t expect you to.”

A intense silence filled the room. A silence only understood by warriors who were ready to do battle. The aura of power that emanated from the two rivals generated a breeze of energy inside the room. Sparks of electricity circled around Lego’s sword. Fro cracked his knuckles, ready to throw down.

The stage was set. A battle of epic pointless proportions was about to commence. 

 


 




9
General Manga writer discussions / Complex plots vs Simple ones
« on: January 04, 2014, 11:16:52 AM »
So, I dont think this needs a super long explanation so lets get straight to it. As a writer which do you perfer? Do you like creating a story where the plot is complex and has your readers playing guessing games all the time. Or do you like a more simple and straightfoward plot. Me personally, I like a little of both. I like to keep my stories straightfoward, but I also like to throw in a few curveballs every once in a while as well

10
Manga Creations / A Short Story By Yours Truly
« on: December 02, 2013, 10:39:40 AM »
So in one of my Writing Classes We had to write our own short stories. First, the professor had us write within a 300 word range. Then he told us to bump it up to  800 words. Once we did that, he told us to bump it back down to 750 and then he gave us feedback. The final draft is due this week and I thought I'll let guys see what I came up with. Hopefully, you guys will like it. I personally didn't feel it like that. Still, I thought I did decent enough.
[h]

Fro's Short Story

         The night air was cold and suffocating. Sheets of Ice covered the ground and ice sickles dangled from the edges of houses and frozen tree branches. Roosevelt Street was nearly consumed in total darkness. Every lamppost on the block had been shut off. Felicia, a light skinned trick with a curvy figure stood right under one of the dead lamppost. Her sweat pierced through the cold like spear through stone and trickled down from the third eye tattoo on her forehead onto the deep knife scar on her right cheek. Her body shook rapidly. Her knees were slightly bent, seeming as if she was getting ready to collapse on the ground.
   
       The cold touch of the metallic, black handgun froze her hands stiff. She stared into her best friend Angie’s eyes, a small petite Latina who was lying on the ground in a fetal position. She was trembling as much as Felicia was. Felicia didn’t want to do it. She tried to her lift up her arm, but the pressure overwhelmed her so much that her arm fell back to her side and swayed uncontrollably from left to right.
   
       The other members of the Trap Lords were glaring at Felicia. They had all their arms folded and their faces were stone cold. Some were tapping their feet repeatedly on the concrete while others were chewing hard on gum that had already dried out. She knew what had to be done. Angie double-crossed the gang, so now she had to suffer the consequences. And if Felicia had a problem with that, then she would be killed for being disobedient
   
       Pedro, the Head Lord of the gang, was the one orchestrating the dilemma. He was a tall, bald and muscular guy with a faded goatee and snake tattoos that intertwined from the back of his head all the way to the front. He was Felicia’s lover and Angie’s older brother.
   
      Pedro became impatient and stormed up to Felicia. He placed his hand on her shoulder. The warm touch of his large hand sent a flurry of mixed emotions running through her mind.

       Felicia always had a thing for guys tougher than her. Even though she likes to be the one in charge, she couldn’t help but get turned on whenever a man is able to take control of her. That’s probably why she liked Pedro so much. Out of all the boys she fooled around with, Pedro was the one guy she always came back to, even though he often mistreated her. That’s probably why she hated Pedro as much as she liked him.

        “Hey”, he whispered in her ear, getting closer to her, wrapping his hands around her waist. “So is you gonna shoot this bitch or what?”

        Her mind went blank for a moment. Her body began to move on its own as if Pedro’s words had hypnotized her. Like a mindless Zombie, she raised her arm and pointed the gun at Angie. But as she did that she saw the tears in Angie’s eyes. Her tears reminded her of all the times she had to save Angie’s ass whenever she got herself into trouble. That’s how their friendship started. She couldn’t bear the idea of not being able to save Angie, let alone killing her. That’s when she snapped. Turning around, she held the gun point blank in Pedro’s face. Pedro’s eyes widened, shocked by Felicia’s sudden transformation.

      “NO!”

       Bang!


11
Manga Creations / The Other Fro: Arc one
« on: November 05, 2012, 12:32:16 AM »
Finally got off my lazy butt and decided to write something for once. This will be my first MR Canon on the forum which I'm excited and nervous about at the same time. I hope I don't screw up. I really don't know how long is this is gonna be but, im pretty sure it won't be that long.

Alright here goes! The first chapter of my First ever MR Cannon. I hope you guys enjoy.

    The Other Fro: Arc 1
       
Chapter One: Say it ain’t Fro

    Far away in the deserted areas of the internet, lies a city of fallen beauty. It seemed something like that of a ghost town. One that had seen better days. The City was small in size. Broken buildings and flickering street lights adorned the place. The night air was cold and gentle winds blew on occasion. Dead center of the city was a giant bell tower that rung loudly. Adding to the already gloomy atmosphere of the town.
   
 It used to be a place for gatherings of all anime and manga lovers alike. Where people can hang out and have all have all types of jolly fun. It all seemed so perfect. Too bad the city got invaded though. Spam ninjas, trolls and other creatures of the sort wrecked the place. And the once peaceful and gorgeous looking city was now home to the rejected monsters of the internet.
   
So why is this city important you may ask? Well, it has no importance really. The only thing important here is the guy walking through the city streets.
   
He was light skinned black male most likely in his teenage years. His style of clothing looked reminiscent of a yin-yang symbol. He wore a very fancy unzipped black and white leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath, loose black jeans, two gauntlet gloves one white and black, and black and white gym shoes. Indeed, these were very interesting features. However, what really stood out was his perfectly round and large Afro.

The kid had many names such as: “The Awesome One”, “The Afro-Haired Spectacle”, “The Best in the World”, etc. However, most people simply know him as Fronomenal.

Fro had been strolling through the ruined city with a pen and a plain white book in hand. He recently had finished visiting his family in the south and decided to do some sightseeing. So why would he pick such a dangerous city to explore? Who knows? Fro sure as hell didn’t. 
   
 The book he was carrying was entitled, “The One thousand Techniques of the Fronomenal One,” which was his personal book of countless battle techniques he had created. Flipping the book to an empty page, he began writing a short description of a technique he recently developed. He then drew a stickman sketch next to the description which demonstrated the technique. He was a horrible artist, but at least his stickman pictures were decent enough.
   
 Closing his book, he looked up only to see a couple of spam ninja inches away from him. They were the usual looking ninja and they all carried cliché weaponry such as katanas, daggers, and other ninja like assortments. As menacing as their appearance was, Fro wasn’t too worried. In fact he was quite happy. He needed something to relieve him of his boredom and these ninja were just what he needed to accomplish that.

   After putting away his book in the pocket inside of his jacket, he stretched out his right arm forward. Greeting the monsters that were getting ready to kill him.

“Hey you worthless spam ninja! How yall doing tonight?”
   
 The spam ninja grunted angrily at Fro as if they actually understood what he said. Suddenly, one ninja from the pack lashed at Fro and swung its blade vertically across his head. Fro however, managed to dodge the strike quickly enough and jumped back a safe enough distance.

“Aw come on why you guys have to be like that?” He said disappointed. “Besides you guys should be happy you found me. Because that means I get to rid you guys of your meaningless existences. Doesn’t that sound awesome?
   
The spam ninja didn't like the sound of Fro’s idea. In fact, they were quite furious about it.  Waving their swords wildly in the air, they charged at him while letting out distinct battle cries.

“Hmph, I guess not.”

In the midst of their attack the ninja were somehow frozen in place. Little did they know, Fro had already phased through them like a ghost through a wall and rendered them unable to move. Before they could even begin to comprehend what had just happened to them, they disintegrated into mere pixel dust.
   
 Fro continued his exploration of the city letting out a yawn here and there. As he traversed the damaged landscape, he began hear moans, groans, and howls of that nature from every part of the city he passed by. Of course as usual, Fro didn’t seem bothered by what he heard.
   
Deeper into the city, the sounds began to get louder and soon enough, the creatures that were making these odd noises began to reveal themselves. Spam ninjas and trolls started to appear out of every street corner and alleyway imaginable. The entire city was eventually enveloped by these monsters.

    But, did Fro care? Not really. He was actually already in the process of taking out the horde that was front of him. He rushed through the frontal horde like a wild bull. Smacking away spam ninja with his fist and slicing trolls in half with tendrils of hair that spawned from his Afro. A few dead ninjas later, Fro arrived at the exit of the city.
   
Originally, Fro wanted to just leave the city without taking care of the swarm behind him. Laziness almost consumed him, but he knew better. It would be too dangerous to let them roam free. His placed his left hand on his chin and began pondering in thought.

“Hmm… Just how am I going take care of all these worthless pest? Oh, I know!”
   
 Using his right hand, he reached into his Afro and plucked out an abundance of hair strands and tossed them into the air. The wind scattered them and they eventually landed in random places across the city.
    Seconds later, the army of ninja trolls began to close in on Fro. Despite how close they were, Fro was not at all troubled. As they reached the city’s gates, Fro nonchalantly turns his back towards the swarm and smiles.

“See ya!”

With the snap of a finger, Fro detonated the strands of hair he had spread earlier, setting off a humongous explosion that destroyed the already ruined city and the ninja trolls along with it. Shortly after the explosion, the city was engulfed in flames and layers of smoke formed a giant skull with crossbones in the sky. Fro walked away silently with his hands in his pockets. Not even bothering to look back at the destruction he had caused.

 
  After days of sightseeing and unnecessary madness, Fro finally returned to the place he calls his second home: MR City. It was beautiful morning in MR City and everything was quiet as usual. He always thought of MR as one of the weirdest yet coolest looking places he had ever laid eyes upon. It’s uniquely divided structure as well as its thousands of towering skyscrapers left him in awe no matter how many times he examines the city.

“Aw good old MR.” He said breathing in the fresh air”
 
  Fro decided to take a quick walk along the city. He passed by a couple of districts and greeted the some of the newer members of MR. Fro had been an member of the MR community for almost a year now, but to him it really didn’t feel that way. He always did think that time in MR passes by so fast. Then again, he never paid too much attention to time in general.
   
 Feeling thirsty, Fro thought it would be a good idea to stop by one of his favorite places in MR: The Pub. Stepping through the pub’s doors, he found the place to be much livelier than usual. It was filled with MR’s more famous members and a few newbies as well. Everlasting, Rojas, Roshon, Nexuun and Jack were playing poker at a table near the entrance. Monster and Toasty were going at it in a game of pool near the back end of the pub. Coryn and Lego were chugging beers and talking about old times at another table. And Musik was busy serving as a bartender at the counter. Noticing his presence, all of the raiders in the pub greeted Fro in unison.

“Hey Fro! Welcome back!”

“Yo! Sup everyone!” Fro replied, waving his hand.
   
 Fro approached the counter and took a seat on one of the stools. He stared intently at the TV that was above him which was displaying some sort of worldwide news broadcast. He then turned his attention towards Musik, who was walking towards the counter with a towel and beer cup in hand.

“Hey there Frono! Welcome back. How was the family visit?”

“Meh, the usual. My mom nearly burst in tears in when she saw me and my dad bored me to death with his lectures about life and other crap. I played a couple of video games with my older brothers and spent some quality time with my younger sister. It was a pretty chill week.”

“Glad to hear. Can I get you anything?”

“Just some orange Kool-Aid. Nothing fancy.”

“Right! Orange Kool-Aid coming right up!”
 
 It didn’t take long for Musik to make the Kool-Aid. In, fact it only took her a fraction of a second. She disappeared and reappeared in an instant with a cup of Kool-Aid in her hands.
   
“Here you go. One cup of fresh orange Kool-Aid.”

“Well that was fast.” Fro said surprised. He took the cup from Musik and began sipping on his Kool-Aid. “Man
this is good.” He moaned in delight.

“Good! Replied Musik. She placed her hands on her hips. “Now is there anything else I can do for you”?

“Naw I’m good. Thanks Musik!”

“No problem. If you need anything else just come back and let me know okay?”

“Don’t worry I will.”
   
 Fro left the counter and began wondering around the pub looking for a place to sit. He spotted a table not too far from where Coryn and Lego were sitting and decided to take up residence there. He lied back in his chair and placed his feet on the table. Feeling relaxed, he let out a slight yawn and closed his eyes. Things were going quite swell for Fro. He had a good glass of Kool-Aid and he was surrounded by loving friends. Everything seemed so perfect.

Then things took an unexpected turn…

Out of nowhere, the pub doors were suddenly blasted by an unknown force. All activities inside the pub came to a screeching halt and everyone inside stood up alerted. When the smoke cleared an unfamiliar figure entered. The raiders were thrown in a complete state of confusion.
 
  At first she seemed like an ordinary girl. However closer examination proved otherwise. Her skin color was a dark brown and she looked fairly young. Her Voluptuous figure left most of the male raiders’ jaws dropping to the floor. Even Lego had a slight nosebleed. She wore a sleeveless, red blouse. Hanging on her loosely it didn't even cover her bellybutton, or most of her cleavage, but it didn't seem to phase her one bit. She also wore skin tight red leather pants, long black leather heels, a small black leather jacket, black leather gloves and a brown belt which was strapped was an assortment of all types of hand guns as well. Indeed, she was spectacle to behold, but what really stood out to the crowd was the fact she had an Afro. A very large one at that.

As she walked through the middle of the pub, the raiders prepared themselves. Some were even summoning their weapons. However, the girl wasn’t fazed. She simply ignored them and continued walking. She eventually stopped in front of the table where Fro was sleeping. She folded her arms and kicked the table. The sound scared the Fro so much that ended up jumping out his chair panicking. He was angry at first, but when he feasted his eyes upon the Afro haired beauty that stood before him. His anger quickly transformed into a state of shock.
   
He walked towards the girl and took a more personal look at her. While that was happening, Lego and Coryn were talking discreetly to each other.

“You think there’s a chance he might know her?” Whispered Lego. ” I mean they do look alike.”

“There could be a possibility. Though I doubt it. He looks like he doesn’t know her all that well.”
As hard as he tried Fro couldn’t really figure out who this mysterious girl was. He felt as if seen her before. In a dream perhaps? Well, whatever the case he knew just looking at her wasn’t going solve anything. So he did what any normal person would do: He asked questions.

“Um, excuse me miss. I hate to bother you but just who are you and where did you come from?”
   
 A look of disgust fell upon her face. She obviously wasn’t too pleased with Fro asking her questions. So, as a response she drew a handgun from her belt and held it point blank in Fro’s face.

“Are you the one known as Fronomenal?” Asked the girl. She finally spoke.

“Umm… Maybe?” Replied Fro nervously.
 
“And what exactly do you want with Frono? Asked Toasty, appearing behind her with his rifle in hand.

“It’s none of your business fool!”

“Actually it is our business.” Intruded Lego. “

Coryn now stepped in. “Anybody who has business with Fro has business with all of us. Now, I’m going to repeat Frono’s question and this time you will answer. Just who are you and where did you come from?!”

The girl sighed. As much as she didn’t mind taking on an entire group of warriors. She had a purpose and that purpose was not senseless violence. For the sake of logical reasoning, she lowered her weapon and decided
it would be best to just answer their question.

“I just wanted to have a talk with my cousin in private. Is that so much to ask?”

Everyone gasped. Their eyes widened in disbelief. The mere sound of the word “cousin” created an awkward silence in the room. Suddenly, all eyes were fixed on Fro who couldn't believe what he had just heard.

“W-Wait Were… COUSINS?!”

To be continued…




         


 
 
   

   

   




 
 
     
   

12
Manga Writer workshop / Universal Writing Workshop
« on: August 20, 2012, 02:02:26 AM »
So I came up with this idea for workshop while I was having Facebook rap battle with my older cousin. Now I know the writer's section of the forum is mainly focused on developing manga stories and what not, but I think improving our skills in other fields of writing will benefit us greatly. So here's how things are gonna go down.

This workshop will be dedicated to improving our writing skills in different forms of writing other than storytelling. Participants in this workshop will write in different styles such as raps, songs, essays, Journalism or anything that isn't a fictional story that you made up.

It can be as long as you want and to be fair try not to make it really short.

Now I've been thinking about doing something like throwing out challenges every now and now then, but for right now it's freestyle time. So, everybody are free to write about anything they want.

Hope this goes well. If it doesn't then oh well I tried.

13
Video / PC Games / Persona 4 Arena!!!
« on: June 15, 2012, 10:55:02 AM »


Yes! :dance:

Yes! :dance:

Yes! :dance:

Seriously, this game is sooooooo godlike! The fact that my love for persona and my love for fighting games were combined into one overwhelmed the hell out of me. I almost fainted when I saw the English trailer for this game.
I can't wait until this game comes out. As soon I get my hands on this game the first two characters I'm going learn and hopefully master will be Chie and Akihiko. I'm going to be rushing people down like crazy with those two.

Now the only thing I have a problem with this game right now is the fact that my man Junpei is not in the game yet. Hopefully he'll end up as future DLC.
 

Well those are my thoughts. What do you guys think about Persona 4 Arena?

14
Develop Your Story / MR Canon Ideas
« on: May 13, 2012, 08:27:26 PM »
So, while I'm waiting for the day where I can finally re-enter my Writing Zone, a couple ideas for MR Canons have started flowing about in my head recently. So I decided to jot these ideas down and hopefully receive you guys' opinions on them. They're still in the beginning stages but eventually I'll have it all down and ready to go.

"The Adventures of The Fronomenal One"

This is going to be a MR Canon where I fully explore the World of MR and many different universes like it. This canon will be centered on me and will show my perspective on what it is like to be a Raider(of course other raiders will be featured as well). I was also thinking of blending this with other MR Canons that may be written in the future as well. I kinda want this to be an ongoing series and have it separated into Arcs. I don't actually have a story a for the first Arc yet so hopefully I'll have something cooked up soon.

"The Misadventures of Fronomenal and friends."

A comedy series I've been thinking about for awhile now. In this story you will most likely find myself and other Raiders of MR in the most craziest, dumbest, and funniest of situations you could possibly think of. I haven't thought much about this but it's an idea so why not jot it down.

"The MR Gauntlet"

This is basically the MR rpg battles idea I came up with awhile back. In this story, Cory and Hasith have decided to have the Raiders of MR to run a Gauntlet where they take on a variety of challenges and puzzles.
The catch? Every Raider that participates will have their powers stripped away from them and must  re-learn their powers by obtaining experience points from their battles and the challenges they complete. This will be sort of similar to lego's dystopic blades but however the action sequences of this be turn based like traditional RPGs. I know that sounds weird and confusing but I'm still working this out so bear with me on this.

So yeah that's basically all I have for now. If I come up with more I'll be sure to jot them down. thanks for reading and let me know what you guys think. ;D

15
Manga Writer workshop / MR Vocabulary Journal
« on: March 14, 2012, 12:07:16 AM »
This topic will be dedicated to helping MR members brush up on their vocabulary. I'll start out with a list of words I learned this week post their definitions as well. Feel Free to post any words that you guys learned as well

Alright Here goes!

 Impetuous-  Marked by a sudden force of energy.

Discredit- loss of reputation

Reclusive- Living a very selected or solitary life.

Circuitous-  Having a circular or winding course.

Perfidious- violation of faith.

Assiduous-  steadily attentive.

These are all I have so far. When I learn more, I'll make sure to post them.

Pages: [1] 2