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Messages - legomaestro

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Manga Creations / MR War Arc Interlude: Lego
« on: Today at 10:10:06 AM »

1 Legoh - Clear Night
It was a cold and lonely spring night in MR, and that suited Legoh just fine. His head felt like elephants had been tap dancing there, throwing nails, singing annoying kindergarten songs that were too happy and too upbeat for how wasted he felt.
     It almost felt as bad as when Megadegik had punched him in the head. The bastard. He would have his revenge. He felt it then again - that ache-spark. That utter inspiration and sense of direction and purpose that meant that he would absolutely, eventually rise up to the occasion, rejoin with Legoc, regain his fighting spirit and destroy 4kids where it stood.
     He chuckled to himself, knowing that he was telling himself yet another lie. He tucked his hands in the pockets and walked down an alley way that was all too familiar, over to the sombre welcoming light of his favourite watering hole, the MR Pub.
     It had been renovated. Looked a lot more modern than the homely rustic look it used to have. It had a lot more glass and fancy lighting. Like the emblems of the invaders that Legoh sometimes saw around, this felt like another violation that compounded his misery.
     Despite these changes, however, the powers that be had let the name of the pub stand. It was under new management and didn’t have Pub-tan serving familiar patrons, but at least the population of 4kids soldiers was miniscule if not non-existent.
     Nevertheless, Legoh walked in here in his new look - utterly bald and without spectacles, with a slight modification to his jawline using femtomachines to make his face unique enough so as not to be identifiable.     
     If he rose suspicion, a thorough check would reveal who he was, but he hadn’t been doing much to warrant that kind of attention. He’d only been mostly guzzling whatever the bar had to offer and making a fool of himself. Between horrible karaoke, lost poker games and getting kicked out of the pub due to curfew or general craziness, nobody expected much from the local bald drunk in a trenchcoat who called himself Mister Mann.
     Well, Mister Mann was going to have a ‘clear night’ today - transparent alcohol only. Vodka and all its friends. It was Wednesday, after all. Wednesday was always a ‘clear night’.
     The small bell rang as he stepped on the hardwood floor, and a few heads glanced his way,
     “Hey, Mister Mann! You singing with us today?”  Haru, an orange haired young 4kids recruit in a white sailor’s outfit raised his beer glass at Legoh.
     “Time will tell.” Legoh - Mister Mann - replied in his horrible approximation of a Jamaican accent.
     For all his hate for 4kids, the kid was okay. He had some obscure apprenticeship with a Data Miner. Data Miners were highly trained but unfortunate souls tasked with excavating and exploring the bowels of Mangaraiders and recovering whatever useful information they could from the remains of the labyrinth that was Coryn’s lab. Odds of death or worse were at 64% if Legoh remembered correctly - Haru had talked about it once in his eternally cheerful voice. The kid was smart though, and his commanding officer seemed to be one of the best.
     “Ola, Mann-san.” Said another voice.
     He shared more greetings as he sat at his stool. (It had ducttape on its legs because he’d broken it falling off.) Alice the bartender looked at him with her bored expression,
     “Vodka?” She asked. The bottle was already in her hand.
     “You know me so well.”
     “Don’t puke this time.”.
     “Cross my bleeding heart behbeh.” Legoh winked and took his first shot for the day.
He took it, whispering the names of all his friends - family - that were missing or dead. It was the only few seconds he risked sparing thoughts about the others before he focused on the matters of drink. He couldn’t risk any more than that- It hurt too much and annoyed him.
     Finished with that secret toast, Legoh glanced around the pub. Some stools were filled, some groups were huddled together in conversation and other than Haru, he didn’t notice any 4kids troops. He recognized one Raider he hadn’t expected to survive the attack, but hadn’t talked to him even after the city had fallen.     
     There was even a guest spectre he knew.
     All in all, there were many people in the pub at this time of the night.
     Ah, there was Harley Diamond, who was unfortunately a stripper. Unfortunate in that Legoh had to try extra hard not to bleed from his nose - that’d increase his chances of being discovered. Short jet black hair, Blue headphones, a short leather top and skirt and a bosom blessed by the gods, Legoh had to drink himself into a coma when he realised she had a cat tail as well.
     Though severely discriminated against, kemomimis had a level (a very, very low level) of freedom to exist in the city. Legoh had no idea there were anything like kemomimis. In fact, after the invasion of 4kids more than the city becoming one flat sea of featureless soldiers hell bent on their ideology, it seemed to have filled up with quite a mix of different characters that hadn’t even been present in MR City at the time.
There was CopyCop the cyborg chef, trying to start a restaurant in “this hell hole of a city with no sense of taste.”
     There was Utter the drunkard pirate poltergeist who Legoh always challenged to a drinking match. They shared stories of lives at sea. Legoh had the advantage (read: Trauma) of knowing what it was like to be a pirate, so they got along pretty swell.
     Legoh was seven shots in before the emotions finally started kicking in. This was the point of the evening that would decide which way his night would swing: Would he be a happy drunk, singing and talking to everyone? Would he sink in to the waiting warm arms of despair, the one that made him cold and crushed and more than alone? Wrapped up in self pity and a sickened anger? Would he be philosophical and empty, nihilistically void of any emotion and able to - for a blessed few moments before he had to puke - just be a part of the canvas that was a bar? Just an odd Mister Mann at a counter staring empty at nothing? He hated and loved every facet of his drunken self, but he found them interesting too. They were a good way to pass the time, when you had utterly lost and been betrayed.
     “God-damn you 4kids.” Legoh muttered under his breath.
     He froze.
     Alice was staring at him,
     “Say that a little louder please. Get yourself arrested.” She commented.
     “You heard nothing.”
     “Uh-huh. You think you should call it a night? Looks like you’re going to have an emo-bender this time.”
Legoh grinned, “You know me so well. Nah. One more shot and then we’ll see. I’m feeling lucky.”
     Alice, with her itrulydontgiveaDamnWhatyoudowithyourlifesolongasyoudontmesswithMine - expression turned and served the other customers. Legoh meanwhile practically inhaled his last shot and started seeing colours. He was thankful that his femtomachines were still out of wack. He could really get buzzed these days.
     Time cut to him being at a table with Haru again, slapping the teenager on the shoulder and laughing like a madman. He tried to follow another critical rant by CopyCop on the lack of good cuisine in the city, sang a pirate song

What will we do with a drunken sailor
What will we do with a drunken sailor
What will we do with a drunken sailor
Early in the morning!
     Time cut to him peeing in the pub toilet and humming the song. A man told him to shut up and he laughed.

Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Way hay and up she rises
Early in the morning!
     He danced a jig on a relatively free space on the pub, joined by two other scruffy men and the poltergeist. Tiffany stepped up and danced along with them. The floorboards blammed and trammed at the sound of their beating legs.
     And then, when people were just about to leave and Legoh was a hopeless mess hugging a wooden round table and drinking his last vodka from a bottle - knowing his future self would curse him for this - he was murmuring in an approximation of a conversation with Haru, equally drunk.
     “What?”  Legoh slurred.
     “They found something called a forge haha.” Haru chuckled. But it was a half-hearted chuckle. He seemed off, somehow. Or maybe Legoh was off and too drunk.
Struggling to keep to his fake accent but failing even more miserably, Legoh looked up at him,     
Haru looked at him, then looked around in that too-obvious way that people who are about to share a secret do then he leaned in,
     “It’s foreign architecture. It’s… Not from the city itself. Or maybe it is, but it’s built… Different.”
     “A forge that’s built differently. “ Legoh chuckled, “Sorry, Haru, I have no idea what we’re talking about right now.”
     He leaned back and felt his brain protest. He slumped onto the table again and gripped it for stability,
     “Oh Haruhi I am going to hurl.”
Haru ignored him and looked into his beer, “Captain says it’s what they used to make the Banhammer. Or at least, it’s filled with adminatorium.”
     The black essence of moderation. The code that could warp reality. Legoh sobered up a tick and felt his heart pounding, but strangely enough felt more apprehension than anything.
     “You should go home, Haru.” He chuckled to try to add humour, “Let’s talk about something else. Work is boooring.”
     “I’m going to be with Captain tomorrow but I’m scared. I don’t know. I think there’s no traps or anything but… That much power. I didn’t see any of the fighting here, but I know a lot of people died and I think… I don’t know… Haha.”  Haru chuckled half-heartedly, and a silence fell between them.
     Legoh had no idea how to proceed. Thankfully, the rising gorge up his throat gave him the perfect excuse. He almost made it to the bathroom before he spewed his guts, and Alice kicked him out with her patented Football drop kick.
     Lego landed out on the street, hazy and aching, but his eyes held a glint all of the sudden. It was the sharp glint of a wolf that just saw a hunk of raw meat. In his haggard form he looked terrifying. In his chest he was terrified - terrified of the hope that something like a secret forge could give him.     
     He looked at his hand and felt his femtomachines stir within his blood. He felt something wash over him, he felt something fall from his eyes, and in that instance - he knew exactly what he must do.

2 Legoc - Vigilante

Legoc was furious. Legoh had let him down for the last time, and he was done being practical about the whole situation. He swore, MR saved or not, he would never team up with that part of him ever again. He needed to forge a path for himself that wasn’t tied down by the drunkard moody whims of that side of him.
Not that he didn’t enjoy a drink or two.
     In fact, he was taking one now as he sat in the “Literature Bloc” (once known as The Writers’ District’) and reviewed countless works made by Raiders over the years using Kaos Kubes. All these stories, these creations that barely qualified as fiction because of their ability to become real living breathing worlds were now being analysed, dissected and censored according to the regulations set by 4kids.
     From what Legoc knew about this, it was a completely new initiative from 4kids. They usually worked on a military basis: The utter destruction and annihilation of any community that celebrated and supported manga and anime. Before bankruptcy things had been different. They’d taken part in manga and anime distribution with their caveat of censorship. Now they were back at the game, with a new twist. Rumour had it that they were not only producing censored work, but looking to create original new material under a wholly new name and brand. Safe, non-lewd, non-controversial original entertainment that educated future generations about the correct things in culture to enjoy and how to differentiate between bad words and good words.
     Legoc was not one of these new agents in training. He was part of the Corrections Department that only catalogued the creations of the Raiders and sent them along the conveyor belt for their packaging and processing. However even this work made him sick, albeit nostalgic.
     “Halloween Nights… Takeo. Haven’t seen him in ages. Spellcooks by Austadophilus… Haven’t seen her in a while.”
     He input the appropriate keys and catalogued their genres and color coded them for how urgent they needed censorship. Going through training had only been a matter of ingesting a pill with a neural download that told him all about what 4kids wanted on the job. Thank Haruhi for technology. It made getting this cover job that much easier.
     As for the matter of being a green alien cat… Femtomachines son. He’d changed his fur black and his eyes dark brown. He shaved his hair too. His disguise was a bit more elaborate, but he had to make do with still being a cat. Kemomimi were sub-citizens in this new age, but they could still get a job if they stayed in line.
     Legocs’ days were taken completely up by his work and navigating the office life. It fascinated him how easily he sunk into this. Even though he wanted to crush his deskmates’ head in his fist and eviscerate his manager with the high-pitched voice and sneering demeanour, even though he wanted to fight Megedekik and destroy Narcissus and General Bethuw’el, he knew that he couldn’t.
     He just wasn’t strong enough. He’d even considered saving some of the works that were being catalogued and censored, preserving them somehow, but his defeat was deeper than the superficial lack of strength. Something in his soul had been defeated. It was depressing seeing the victory of 4Kids every day, seeing how well they’d conquered the land. It made him almost wish they’d been destroyed fighting. Going out in a blaze of glory was better than having a new world built on top of the ashes of the one that you knew.
     Because he was miles away from being a strategist, the best he could do was try to be patient and wait. Because he knew one thing: No Raider had truly given up just yet. They were surviving. And soon surviving would turn to fighting, and when they were all ready… Then maybe then.
     Maybe even Legoh would grow balls during the interim.
     After some time, Legoc got into the routine. He even took a strange pride in cataloguing the work. For the first time in a while he really was acting like the moderator of the Writers’ District as he had originally been charged. He found stories he’d even forgotten to think about before MR got invaded, so that was a boon. Legoc couldn’t wait to rub this fact into Legoh’s face when he was done.
     In his down time Legoc would’ve loved to sit on rooftops and survey the city, but they all tended to be heavily guarded, so he made do with the old Haruhi church in the MR Park. Long gone were its garish walls filled with images of the goddess. Now it was a featureless stone thing that served as a ‘Museum of Manga and Anime.’ A totally heartless, innocuous thing that was more of a showcase of 4kids previous work during their bureaucratic days than a place of worship.

Ignoring all that, it was open to all, and though not as towering as a skyscraper, its central steeple was perfect to look out at the park and some of the city from. Legoc always went up there at the end of a long work week to reminisce and to keep his anger in check.
Because no matter how much he got into his routine, he would never stop being angry.
     A paper aeroplane hit him on his nose.
     Legoc hissed and grabbed the thing, but missed.
     It floated backwards out of his reach and unfurled itself into a paper. On its surface written in black was,
     “The Sentai Live.”
     Legoc felt a shudder down his spine.
     The note folded itself into a plane and floated away, going down the stairs and vanishing from sight. Legoc followed it.
     It always stayed just out of sight enough not to be seen by passerbys but enough for Legoc’s sharp eyes to pick it up. He followed it across roads and streets, seemingly at random. Finally he happened upon a red phone booth.
     Legoc looked left and right before entering it, and it lit up with a blue light and a scanner that ran over his form.
     “Sentai 009 confirmed. Are you ready to batto!?”
     Legoc was suddenly blinded by green light and felt himself floating in infinite space - quite naked - as a theme song played and he found himself making poses.
     All of a sudden he found himself in green armour with a helmet and a red scarf tied around his neck. And he was standing in the middle of a street, quite in view of a view 4kids officers on night patrol.
    “What the hell-!?” Started one.
     Legoc ran as fast as he could.  He felt light, somehow, and quite terrified.
     “Hey-stop! Captain, this is Unit 0411, we’ve spotted a - ” 
     But he was gone in the next few moments.
     “Was that one of those weirdo vigilantes? The ones in armour?” Said one of the officers, panting hard after running so much.
     “Yeah. They’re pretty damn weird though. They usually just appear and run away. And even when they fight… Well you’ll have to see it to believe it. They’re more of a nuisance than anything. Just keep on your toes.”
     Legoc - Sentai 009 took a moment to collect his breath, observing the outfit he was in. Of course. The MR Sentai program. Someone must’ve revived it, somehow. That meant that there was already a rebellion in place. Of course there’d be. There were plenty of other things going on MR without the head administration. All sorts of teams and projects and stories. Heck, he knew that better as anyone, working in the Literature Bloc.
     4kids had been more focused on the major groups and heavy hitters that this string of heroes must’ve survived somehow. Even during the peaceful days he’d forgotten about it.
He clenched his hand even as a theme song played in his head.
     This was a chance to fight back. 

3- The Forge

Legoh got over his hangover and followed Haru to the dig site. It was easy enough.
Stalking was in fact, Legoh’s speciality. You don’t drive a black van around attempting to kidnap people without learning one thing or two about stealth. Haru never had a chance: At the break of dawn Legoh wore a non-standard black hoodie hoodie instead of his trenchcoat and set out to follow the 4kids. He wasn’t counting on his outfit helping with his stealth: He’d use the his van-tactics and the crash course in Ninjaology that he’d picked up from Coryns’ student everlastin (wherever she was.)
    At this point, going underground was as familiar as taking a walk to Legoh. Being lost in the catacombs that Coryn had constructed over an already cavernous underground made it easy for him. But they were going deeper than he’d ever expected. Haru was with his captain: A surprisingly beautiful woman with purple hair and a horn growing on the center of her forehead. She looked sleep deprived, and yet had a sad smile on her face. For a 4kids Captain she looked very anime, but the rapier on her belt emanated an ominous energy. Legoh’s instincts told him she wasn’t as powerful as the others in The Chorus, but she was competent and dangerous enough to warrant keeping an eye out for.
    Haru, his captain and five other faceless mooks were with them. They were literally faceless. In another stroke of unfortunate genius, 4kids had taken to conscripting Guest spectres and pressing them into their service. Legoh had no doubt that they were doing something about spam ninjas as well. 4kids was all about using everything to their own gains. They were glorified recycling bins.
    The dig site was guarded by no less than a regiment of about 40 people. The entrance to the place was an ominous looking metal scaffolding surrounding a hole with a saucer shaped elevator. Haru and The Captain showed their identification and were let through. They were already getting on the elevator, and Legoh wanted on. It was going to be tricky getting past all of them, but he’d had a plan.
    “Legobunshin-no-jutsu!” He whispered as he made a hand sign. No, he did not know ninjutsu, but as a fun little side project he’d taught his femtomachines to react to certain handgestures to execute certain forms and programs without him thinking about them. The ‘Legobunshin-no-jutsu’ was programmed, as expected, to make shadow clones that all sang the nyan song as they floated in the air. It was supposed to be used for a joke, and was a perfect distraction.
    The guard reacted as expected
    “What is that god-awful music?”
    In the midst of their confusion and even as they called for backup, Legoh refleted twice and got into the elevator. He set off an alarm as he passed through the gates, but he was counting on his diversion to be the one responsible.
    But he hadn’t thought it through about finding a hiding place. The interior of the elevator was quite boring - it was simply a room. And now he was surrounded by Haru, his captain and four 4kids guestmooks.
    “Um… Hi?”
    “Mister Mann… I- is that you?” Haru asked.
    Legoh scratched his chin, “Well, I seem to be lost - hahaha- YOW!”
    He ducked just in time to avoid the rapier blade that thrust out to impale him.
    “You...  You’re not as you seem.” The woman said, thrusting the blade some more.
    Legoh dodged as he spoke, “I - have- no idea what you’re talking about. AHA” He yelled  in triumph as he gripped the blade.
    The 4kids captain was almost apologetic,
    “You… touched the blade.”
    “Yeah, so?”
    The whole room warped around Lego, he felt himself become naked on a fundamental level. In fact, he looked at his arms as they became see-through with mathematical grid lines all over them. There were red points all over his body. The Captain struck one on his arm and he felt his arm die, even as a beautiful multicoloured explosion rippled down his now transparent-grid form.
    “Ah… What the…”
    “Sleep.” The captain said as she struck him on his forehead. The last thing Legoh saw was her glowing purple eyes and Haru watching on with concern on his face.

They were somewhere deeper than they’d ever been before. Legoh could feel it in the air. It felt - wrong. Well if he had to physically describe it then it was like being in a gravitational chamber, or under the effects of Coryns’ Bankai Plimmyrismeno Potami Epistaxis!
    He coughed and looked at his arms again. He was still transparent, and his arms were both dead. He could still stand up, though.
    “Heavy…” Said the Captain. She was standing on nothing. Come to think of it they were all standing in a mauve darkness. The only sense of ‘room’ was the white shadows that the surface cast where they stood. But then Legoh understood that the area was not dark... No when he looked closer wasn't this pretty much like a city? Yes, those were windows, that was a road, that was a bin, a side-walk, a curb. It felt like MR, but different, somehow.
    Other than The Captain there was only Haru, and he was breathing heavily as he drooped. He was still standing, though. The guestmooks were nowhere to be seen.
    The Captain didn’t look at Legoh as she spoke. She was busy holding out her Rapier towards what Legoh thought was a dead end on a street alleyway, and a white beam of light was burning through the wall. It impacted across the surface in a flurry of white sparks, and it was clearly slow work, but it was chipping away at the darkness. Haru was holding up a device that let off a rythimic peeping sound, exactly like Sonar. He glanced worridly at Legoh,
    “Mister Mann… To think that you were a rebel.”
    Legoh smiled,
    “I’m going to say something I never thought I’d say: But being a rebel is subjective. “
    “His name is not Mister Mann.... He’s the one and only legomaestro. Or rather his human half.” The Captain said. She had sweat on her brow as she focused her rapiers’ powers, “Tell me, do you know about this place? The Forge?”
    Legoh focused on collecting what femtomachines he had in him, but their production had been halted by whatever this woman had struck him with. His body felt frozen in stasis, and he felt like every single thing he did was known intimately to her.
    “Yes. I did. Somewhere.”
    In a bar, by her subordinate, but even though he was a 4kids soldier, Legoh didn’t feel like throwing his drinking buddy into trouble.
    “It’s something that no foreign forum has ever been able to obtain. In fact it’s something that’d break Internet Law. Something that could destroy 4kids completely if we ever obtained it…” The Captain said. There was a dreamy expression on her face, “But with my powers ‘to strip bare’ and ‘to see’. If I… If we manage to obtain a banhammer from a foreign forum, then there will be hope for more than this place. We’ll be able to obtain power and spread the light of 4kids everywhere. We’ll paint the world clean.” She chuckled.
    “Monologuing. Jeez. Why don’t you throw me in a prison already?”
    “That’s because I wanted to test a theory. Look, you’ve already gotten used to the atmosphere here right? Our soldiers dissociated by the mere pressure of the place. Only Haru is strong enough to accompany me.” The Captain said, pausing for a moment. She was breathing heavily.
    She raised a hand and smoky strands of black coiled around her fingers, “Moderatium is something that you’ve gotten used to wielding. And now that I’ve struck you with my blade, I’ll be able to understand what exactly makes you able to withstand this. Count yourself lucky you didn’t land in the hands of one of the scientists. This way, ther’ll be no need to dissect you for me to bestow your bodies’ characteristics upon the others.”
    Legoh did indeed feel less pressure from the surroundings,
    “You’ve got our tans’ in tow. And the stuff a moderator is made of is nothing compared to what an Administrator has.”
    “Yes, well, we both know they’re no administrators around, don’t we?” The Captain said, and Legoh snapped.
    He lunged at her, throwing a punch.
    She dodged it quite easily and struck more red points on his arms. This time they literally disassociated. With another punch she stopped his heart, and Legoh collapsed, gasping for air as the last of his femtomachines repaired the damage. He lie there on the ground. Something he’d been getting used to in the past few days.
    The Captain smiled as she slashed at the darkness before her.
    “I’m finished.”
    And the curtain of black opened up to show a beautiful horizon with a setting yellow sun.
     There were ruins, old Grecian temple ruins that reminded Legoh of ecchi world, and there was something poigantly sad and nostalgic about the scene. Tears came to his eyes. There was also the taste of death in the air.
    “A place where time stops, where life and death are connected. The Forge. This is where universes are created.” The Captain said, and Legoh was not surprised to see tears in her eyes too.
    He followed her in a sort of shuffle to the center temple, and without much romance there stood the banhammer before them (Though, everyone saw the banhammer as something else. Haru, for example saw an infinite coil of police tape, and The Captain saw a stamp. Only Legoh saw a hammer. A gargantuan thing, made of destruction, creation, life and death, and infinite power.)
    It was beautiful.

Beth’uwel recieved the news in his ivory tower: Legoh had been captured, and The Banhammer had been discovered.
    It was such an expected grand victory, that he only needed to stare out the window and bask in the sunlight of his kingdom. With this, he had won.

4 Legoc - The MR Sentai


Legoc had never felt so foolish in his life, and yet so epic. He was running across rooftops, dammit, and his scarf went woosh behind him. And people cheered.
    The guards hated him and always seemed to be one step away from him.. As far as the suit itself went, it was pretty great. It had a cool heads-up display, nullified attacks that would’ve been quite fatal, and it made him almost impossibly good at group confrontations. Everytime he was surrounded he found himself able to battle without being overwhelmed or pressured. It was like the reality of being a Sentai forced the 4kids guards to be half as effective as they normally would. And to top it off, there was a themesong that always played whrn he fought.
    His days consisted of going to the Literature Bloc in the day, and being a Sentai at night. In the city of 4kids, there were still guest spectres and Raiders in mortal danger, and he had plenty of people to save and leave in confusion as to what they’d actually seen.
    He wondered who’d sent him the paper aeroplane though. Was it Litt? But no, he hadn’t seen the man in ages.
    Regardless, he would keep on wearing the suit.
    And he wouldn’t admit it even under torture, but he was enjoying it, very very much.
    For the first time in what felt like ages, Legomaestro the cat smiled.

Manga Creations / Re: MR: War Arc: The Last Halloween
« on: Today at 08:41:32 AM »

Swift Team sat huddled in their cavern. Being deep below ground they were well insulated from the cold chill that late fall had brought down on them. But caves were so often cool, and so often damp. Even though it never dropped below a balmy fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit, the caves' natural moistness and the near freezing temperatures above ground kept the raiders from ever feeling truly warm except when gathered around their fire pit.
- Nein! No Fahrenheit!
- As uncomforteable as this sounds, it somehow sounds... Cozy? I dunno why but yeah

2.        This late November evening was one such time. Coryn, Vacant, Devola, Echo, and 3.0 sat staring into the meager blaze, calm chewing on chunks of stew as they relaxed their bones after a hard day of taking the fight to the Lost Chorus. It was quiet, and the quiet was beginning to drive one of them quite insane.
- OK not more so Cozy

3.   At least, that's what Coryn told himself. He had just been topside all day, quietly watching 4Kids troop movements while Echo quietly sat next to him watching 4Kids troop movements while Coryn sat next to her quietly watching…
 Yes, he was beginning to get a little stir crazy, thanks for asking.
- It's quite appropriate reading this in the current situation. I think I can understand his mind-funkiness

4. "What a mess," Coryn thought to himself. "It's not even winter yet and I'm already dying to experience the outdoors again." But of course, who was he kidding? He hadn't gotten to enjoy the last spring, or even a moment of the summer. Coryn was even beginning to fantasize about the absolute hell he had gone through back in XX18's spring.
- Wait what event was that again? My mind is fritzing on me.

5.  That may had been a mess. A 'right mess' even, as Vacant might say. But what could he do? He needed a distraction. Maybe a hard drink. Definitely a hard drink. Maybe a cigarette if he could find one in the loot they had taken from Lost Chorus soldiers.
- Wait Coryn smokes!?
- Also it's always time for a drink. Wait, how good is Coryn at holding is liquor? I imagine cyborgs have buffs against that sort of thing.

6. What he and Coryn were about to indulge in was no classic vintage of fine wine, and it was a harrowing experience without a good friend to take the journey with you.
        In fact it was a much debated question what 'druel', as it had come to be known, even was. Some said it was a type of wine, others supposed it to be a long of beer, many called it a liquor and ended the day there. This question rang out from Swift Team's cave to Lost Chorus concentration camps scattered across MangaRaiders and the wider Net beyond, and yet no consensus on classification could be found. All any of them knew was that you made it using the unidentifiable fuel that powered Lost Chorus aircraft, the exhaust system of a 4Kids transport truck, whatever leftovers you had on hand, and a prayer.

- Oh Haruhi

7.  Blindings were common, but the old adage held true. Humans could, and would, make booze out of anything.
- This is Law.

8. Thankfully human stomachs were made of sterner stuff, and could safely ingest druel provided the necessary precautions were taken first. Coryn tilted the old thermos, and out poured a clear liquid with a yellowish tint and the pearlescent refractions of something that maybe still had a little oil in it.
- This is such a hilariously bad idea.

9.  The pair gently clinked their glasses together, and downed the nasty stuff with a cry of "Cheers, prosit, l'chayim!"
- Ah, L'chayim. Learnt a new word.

10. The unnatural heat buoying them, the pair struck off into a lively conversation, which was soon joined by the rest of Swift Team.
- By the way, it's a nice coincidence that Swift Team rolls off the tongue switfly. I dunno. Just feels like that in a way.

11. "Have I ever told you the tale of," Coryn dropped his voice down low, "The Last Halloween?"
- Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuun

12.  "Did you just capitalize each of those words?" Asked Echo.
- Hahaha

13. 3.0 said. "Halloween was a month ago Coryn. We all just sat around the fire. You were there. Can someone take away his poison juice?"
- I think druel has every right to be called this monicker. By the way i'm calling alcohol 'poison juice' from now on.

14. "Now hold on!" Proclaimed Vacant. "I do remember that Halloween, and as I recall, you are the last person who should be telling that story!"
- Hahaha I wonder why.

15.  "It was a chilly October evening." Started Coryn.
        Devola cut in. "It was unseasonably warm actually. And it's not the time of year for ghost stories any more is it? I saw a bunch of Lost Chorus soldiers putting up Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/Saturnalia lights last week, or whatever it is they call it."
- Wait there's that many festive seasons in December? The heck is Saturnalia. Suprised you know about Kwanza.

16. MangaRaiders a year and one month ago was a very different place than it was today. Ask anyone walking the streets and they would have told you the same thing. MangaRaiders is a peaceful place. Its members are kind and gentle. They might rip your arms off if you do wrong by them, but generally nice people! They promise.
- And even if they did rip your arms off, they'd do it gently.

17. Anyway, you certainly wouldn't have said, or even thought about saying that in a little over two months the place would experience a full scale invasion by a military power thought vanquished by the wider Net that was being led by a master general and tactician, loyal even in defeat, and his band of fanatical followers. That is in no way what you might have said, but it is what happened. You might have said that you fancied a pint, or that yeah, you could eat if you and a buddy wanted to check out that new restaurant on the corner.
- Indeed. Funny how that happens sometimes, with the invasions.

18.  That night, the raiders were doing as raiders tended to do late on Halloween night. Namely: inciting a ruckus and carrying on.
- I wonder what all the Raiders  dress up as. Do they Trick or Treat? Wait by the law of Anime are any of the monsters actually scary or just cute as all heck?

19.   The MR Pub was abuzz with activity. Pub-tan knew how to throw a party, and Halloween night was absolutely no exception.
- Pub-tan/Art-tan moonlighting as  a DJ is headcanon for me right now.

20. Vacant, who was dressed as a cowboy, saddled up to the bar next to Mahlua, who was costumed as one of the 'witchy' girls from a 90's harem anime that you weren't cool/weird enough to know about.
- Ah. Those anime.

21. Across the polished wood bar and pumpkin shaped party favors atop it was Pub-tan, who was working her own party as a zombie… bartender. Say what you want about the woman's party throwing skills, Pub-tan was an adamant professional.
- Heck yes zombie gaaaal.

22. "Pick your poison." Directed Pub-tan as she waved her hand at the bottles behind her, which had all been replaced by theme appropriate containers of various deadly chemicals in old timey bottles.
- I love the decor.

23.  With some apprehension, Vacant leaned over towards Mahlua. "What are you having?" He whisper shouted over the crowd and the music.
- OK man spill. How in the name of Haruhi do you whisper-shout?

24. "The Arsenic and Old Lace." Replied Mahlua as she pointed at the paper menu of the night's cocktail specials pinned to the wall. "I'm not sure if I like it or not yet. But I admit, I am no expert."
- Okay someone has got to make me this cocktail just for fun. Come to think of it, I'd love to make cocktails based on MR and what Pub-tan would theoretically make haha.

25. That source of help exhausted, Vacant studied the menu himself, and out in his drink order. "I'll take a 'The Revenge of Frankenstein', please."
- Awwww yis.

26. "Resurrecting that for you right away." Chirped Pub-tan as she turned to busy herself with various bottles labeled things like 'laudanum' and 'bleach'.
- Laudanum. New word learnt. And damn that is a substance.

27.  Vacant smiled nervously and made some small talk while he waited. "Right then! What's the dirt Mahlua? What's the ol' raider four-one-one on who's hot and who's clearly trying too hard?"
- 411. New term learnt. Damn, I forgot how much stuff you just sort of know, Coryn. Coolbeans. I learn every time.

28.     Vacant flinched back in shock. "Ayorite!" He… said? It was one of those classic Vacant-isms that you couldn't be sure was a word or just some vaguely British swaying filler sounds.
- I need to hear Vacant say this hahahaha.

29.  tasted herbasish, with a hint of citrus, sweetness, and… earthiness? Surely Pub-tan wouldn't have gone so far as to put actual dirt into a cocktail, even if she was well known to be an artistic purist when it came to her cocktail recipes. Either way, it only took a second sip for Vacant to decide that whatever was inside his glass, it was delicious.
- I want a Frankenstein so badly right now.

30.  "What?!" Cried Vacant. He's just gone as that Overlord guy!"
        Mahlua asked. "Your point?"
        Vacant said. "Well he's already a skeleton isn't he?"

- The man has a point.

31.        It wasn't, and she most certainly would. But that's a special secret for later ;).
- Shush Narrator no spoilers! I want to enjoy the story!

32.      And then the door fell in.
- For some reason this is one of my favourite sentences ever.

33.  Like something had sliced the hinges in half it was. The door hit the ground to reveal a figure in the darkness. They stood there, oddly tall, oddly thin. An unexplainable orange light poured in around the figure, and it cast them into a silhouette that prevented identification.
- Can you not. I hate scary things.

34.  With slow ponderous steps the figure advanced. As they entered the dim lights of the pub, it became that the mysterious figure at the door was none other than Coryn.
        Oh God was it Coryn.
- I can see the thunder.

35.  The moderator was holding himself… wrong. Coryn's eyes were closed. His arms were out at his sides, stiff as boards. He didn't move his legs in the way legs ought to move. It was like he was on strings. A macabre, human marionette, being puppeted by someone or something who hadn't seen a human walk for a while now, and couldn't quite remember how it went.  This was strange enough, but could have easily been passed off as a bit. But if anyone in the pub held that opinion, it came couched in believing that it was a joke gone too far. Willful destruction of city property was obviously looked down on, but that wasn't the real problem here.
        Coryn was naked.
- Jesus. A new favourite sentence. And oh gawd its horrifying. Stop

36. At least, he was mostly naked. He retained a pair boxer-briefs mercifully where they were supposed to go. But everything above and below his crotch was as naked as the day he was born.
Okay, time for reasonable minds to interfere. "Coryn I know I said I wouldn't discriminate on contest entries, but this is too much." Said Pub-tan. "You aren't allowed to be half-naked."
- She has a point

37.        "I can see your bulge mate!" Blurted out Mahlua
- laughed at that one

38. Again, it grew quiet. Things were starting to get a little awkward now. The erie orange light was still coming from outside, and Coryn had yet to open his eyes. Finally Pub-tan gave up, and started towards the end of the bar so she could enact justice. "Alright Coryn, we've all got the joke now, but I'm going to have to give you a temporary pub ban for breaking my door down."
- Man a ban by Pub-tan is serious beeswax

39. Just as Pub-tan was about to lift up the bar gate, Coryn's eyes shot open. They weren't right though. Coryn's electric blue lights were gone. It might not have been apparent from the back of the bar, but nothing about his eyes were right. His irises were twice as big as they should have been, his pupils were mere pinpricks at their centers. And instead of blue, there were solid swirling colors. Green, purple, and orange spun around his tightly contracted pupils like a hypnotist's wheel. Then Coryn opened his mouth, and our came his voice, but it wasn't just his voice. It was his voice and his voice and his voice and his voice a thousand times over, all laid atop each other until he was echoing his own echo. "HAVE YOU EXPERIENCED OUR NEW HEAVEN? WE HAVE KICKED OUT THE NEW OLD GODS AND FILLED THE BONE PITS WITH THE OLD NEW GODS AND THE OLD GODS AND THE GODS AND THE NEW GODS AND THE NEW NEW GODS! HAVE YOU NOT SEEN THE OLD OLD LIGHT? IT FILTERS IN FROM THE ANCIENT FORESTS OF WOOD AND CITIES OF STONE AND OCEANS OF WATER AND RIVERS OF BLOOD. ARE WE NOT ALL JUST FLOATING ON TOGETHER IN THIS GREAT ELECTRIC SEA WITHOUT PASSION? WITHOUT DIRECTION? FOLLOW ME TO THE NEW HEAVEN! WE ARE GOING TO FIND THE-"
- Nope. I'm out of here. Nope. Nope. Nope.

40.  Had Coryn always been that tall?
        Had he always been that thin?
- Mommy I want to go home

41. If you weren't used to the weird stuff that happened around MangaRaiders, you wouldn't stick around when a mostly naked guy waltzes into the Halloween party and gets clocked out by the bartender.
- This is true. Too true. Man the things that happen in MR.

42. Lego, who was dressed as Jimi Hendrix, guitar and all, offered to lock up his friend in the drunk tank back at MR Tower.
- Awwwww yiissss Hendrixxxxx *Air guitar*

43. At least that was the plan until Coryn rising uppercutted Lego right through the pub's ceiling.
- As with the shotgun knock out this is just too hilarious to imagine

44. At least if it had to be this way, Coryn would be being put out of his mystery by a friend.
- Nooooooooooooooo

45.  The blast hit the scientist dead in the face. Or at least, that was the idea. What should have happened was Coryn's head exploding in a display of blood and gore that everyone in attendance would need years of therapy to wipe away. What actually happened was that Coryn bounced back head first from the force of the blast into the ceiling, then black to the floor, and then made the trip a few more times like he was a bouncy ball in a pinball machine, before finally crashing to a stop in a collection of empties next to the bathrooms.
- Nani!? Also glad his head wasn't blown off.

46.  This inhuman display was bad enough, but what came next was worse. As Coryn landed, something let out a scream. I say something because it clearly wasn't human. It was the kind of screech a lesser narrator would describe as coming from one's own head. This is almost certainly that kind of screech, but the truly terrible thing was that it wasn't coming from inside the raider's heads. It was coming from outside, and that made it all the worse.
- Now is the time we bring out all the shotguns, all the flame throwers, crucifixes and holy water you have, ladies and gentlemen

47. Doubtless, many who swore they were heading out to confront whatever was going on reneged on the plan and decided to just call it a night instead. When all was said and done, the only living souls in the pub were Pub-tan, Lego, Mahlua, Vacant, and surprisingly, Coryn.
- 'Living.'

48.  "You could always do what I did." Said Lego with a shrug.
        "And what would that be?" Asked Pub-tan.
        Lego replied. "Live five hundred years in a doomed timeline only for him to come back to life and retconn the whole thing."

- Ouch. I remember that hurt. Damn you, Coryn

Mahlua meanwhile, had started prodding Coryn's unconscious form with her foot (had he always been so tall?). "Given how long he was unconscious last time, we should have a few minutes before he wakes up again. I don't know what he meant with all that ranting about gods, but let me tell you as someone with experience, it's the ranters who are the most dangerous."
- I love the eeriness that 'had he always been that tall' adds.
- Yeah about the ranters.

50.   Vacant asked. "To themselves or others?"
        "Yes." Replied Mahlua.
- This is the correct answer.

51.  The party of would be heroes was feeling decently confident on the way towards the door. We're talking a six, maybe seven out of ten on the ol' confidence-o-meter. But that number dropped significantly after stepping into the night air.
- It's about to get worse isn't it.

52. The moon had been out on their way into the pub that evening. 'Had' being the operable word here. Upon reflection, the moon have still been out, but they sure as hell didn't see it in the sky. What they did see in that starry night was no moon.
        It was a big f*ck off eyeball!
- New favourite sentence and nope nope nope

53. Up in the sky and as plain as day was an eyeball. It was huge. Dwarfing even the largest of moons the assembled raiders had ever seen. This was the kind of size you see in movies. Blown up to proportions unsupported by all known laws of physics for dramatic effect. Except as mentioned above, this was a giant eyeball. There were barely any whites. It had the same pinwheel as Coryn's eye had. Green and orange and purple, all spinning around the central pupil. The whole thing was also bleeding around the edges, because of course it was. Huge red drops of blood fell from the rim of the eye, but if they were landing somewhere in MangaRaiders, those assembled couldn't tell.
- Just... No.

54. Wait a minute? Were they just going to keep standing around? They needed to do something about this thing! Lego gripped his guitar tightly, and let fempto-machines flow out across its surface, encasing it in a hard shell.
* Femto
- Also I'm starting to get impartial to rocking a guitar as a weapon.

55. Mahlua fell in step with the moderator. "Other than the fact this thing is putting out some serious magical energy, not much. Coryn mentioned a whole lot of different categories for gods, but he started with 'new old gods' and worked his way up from there. If I followed his logic correctly, he skipped the 'old old gods', so I'll start there."
- Man when you start applying age-terms to gods you know you're going to deal with some Eldritch horrors.

- the madness is impressive to read
- the madness is infectious. i am scared of looking into that eye. it calls to me and makes me think of infinite. my mind cannot hold. my mind cannot - um where was I?

57. Either Pub-tan's shotgun was getting weaker, or Coryn was getting stronger (and taller?).
- Yeeesh.

58. Lego took to the skies with his moderator abilities. The distance between himself and the eye was closed in an instant, but by the time he arrived, Lego had already come to regret the decision. The technique didn't factor actual physical distance into account, so when Lego glanced back to the ground, he found his had come quite a long way from MangaRaiders' surface. This was concerning not for how far it meant Lego might fall, but for how massive the eyeball was. If it could be supposed that the eye looked very large from the ground, even though it was still far away, then you could interpret that the eye itself was very big. This was all true, but that truth meant little when you couldn't look at the blasted thing from a few feet and realize that the eye/moon comparison was surprisingly apt, and that it was easily several times the size of the city itself.

- Just... no. It's over.

59.  So much for a quaint evening of drinks and party games.
- Indeed.

60. Alright then! Too late for thoughts of regret and retreat now! You can't just go crying home to mommy with your tail between your legs just because there's a huge eyeball monster that's possessed your friend bearing down on your city!
- Um, yes you can! But ah, go for it man!

61. Lego drew back his guitar, and smacked the giant pinwheel eyeball right in the pupil. The wet surface rippled like a fat man's belly, but there was no penetration, or even the slightest indication that Lego had done any damage. This was going to be harder than he had hoped.
- Ouchie for the eye god thing. But damn, I expected as much.

62. Lego wound himself up, and went back on the attack with his patented 'just hit it a whole bunch of times!' technique.
- Hey, it works. Sometimes.

 The moderator was careful to only smack the eye when the force of the new strike would catch the ripple at the right moment and feed into the strength of the combined strikes. Lego played the eye's moist surface like a trampoline, but just when he thought he might be getting somewhere, the ripples shifted their direction all on their own. Before he could stop himself, Lego's next strike hit in exactly wrong spot instead of exactly the right one, and the feedback of his own attacks shot the guitar, and the raider holding onto it, careening back towards ground level.
- You've got to wonder if something just tanks your guitar smacks in the eye without reacting immediately if you've gotta bring out some bigger guns or get the hell out of dodge. Though I imagine something that huge will be very hard to get away from.  I wonder what effect it would have on spam ninjas

64.  The tan dumped her selection of bottles on a bench, and began her work. She dumped out one bottle labeled 'Formaldehyde', refilled it halfway with a pint of 'Virgin Blood' and then started adding things like 'Pancreas Fluid', 'Bone Marrow', and 'Muriatic Acid'.
- Muriatic acid. New word for something I already knew. Very cool.
- Also I'm having doubts about these bottles just being fake now.

65. "Shake well, wait five minutes, then either serve with a sprig of eucalyptus to neutralize the acid, or just smash it into that big dumb eye to hopefully put a hole in it!"
- Lets goooooooo

66. He double checked that the cork was firmly in place, and then carefully slid the bottle into the folds of his shirt. "Remind me to audit your receipts if we survive this."
- 100% Those bottles are what they say they are!!

67. Vacant's face lit up with shock and a bit of anger. "Alright then! I had thought you might do something like this! You were planning to have a cheeky little cheat at the costume contest weren't you?!"
- Brotherman the contest is over!!

68.         Mahlua shrugged. "Don't think of it as cheating. Think of it as… a little magically assisted costume design. Pub-tan didn't make any rules against magic."
- Wait she was totally trying to win the contest!

69. Vacant took an afronted step back. "I! Err… I was going to do a sexy little dance?... " He admitted sheepishly.
- Hahaha

70.  With that out of the way. Mahlua dropped to the ground, pulled a piece of chalk out from her costume, and began sketching a sigil onto the brick pathway. Vacant couldn't make heads or tails of it, but after a few minutes of drawing with only the occasional rumbling coming from above, it was done. Magical energy built up in Mahlua's right arm, and she discharged it into the sigil. The chalk lines took on the same purple glow as her tattoos, and when it did the air in the space seemed to shift. Vacant hadn't been able to put his finger on it until now. He had been feeling uneasy from the very start of this party vibe ruining event, but that unease had tripled ten fold after going into the sewer system. The unease was passing now, or at least returning to normal levels.
- Love the magic work. Strangely enough there are few Raiders who do magicky stuff if not none at all haha. Go Mahlua! Also is it special chalk?

71. Vacant rolled his eyes. "Pfft. Yeah, sure, I knew that. Magic circle mumbo jumbo abracadabra. Basic magic one-oh-one. You handle the magic stuff. I'll take care of any creepy raider puppets that come out way." He whipped out the toy revolvers strapped to his hips. "Bang! Bang!"
- You go get em, Sheriff Big Balls!

72.  This would be the second case in case you weren't following. Except that to call what the people of MangaRaiders were experiencing earthquakes would not quite be accurate. Sure enough the ground was shaking, but it was doing it rhymically almost. Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. One after the other, getting larger, bit by bit by bit by bit.
        No one realized it yet. But these earthquakes weren't earthquakes. They weren't earthquakes at all. They were footsteps, and they were getting closer to MR Tower.

- Oh nooooooooooooo

73.  Lego hit the pavement after another assault on the pinwheel eye. He had thrown Pub-tan's bottle of death into the thing's pupil, but instead of exploding as hoped, the bottle just disappeared into the blackness. Lego didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but successive attempts with ever more volatile cocktails had only produced the same result. Either the eye was disappearing the bottles to dimensions unknown, or it was going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. The moderator couldn't say, but for now he needed a new plan.
- Yeah I'm thinking this thing might be immortal.

74. The scientist had been growing taller and thinner as the night went on.
- Stop it man! He's become so tall and stretchy in my mind it's giving me bad vibes man. Bad vibes!

75. Fro's hair had been lit on fire by a demented clown, which brought Lego great joy.
- Can confirm. I'm giggling like a madman
- But RIP. Not even your hair-rivals deserve to have their hair set on fire by a clown.

76. A guest specter was being eaten alive by rabid wolfmen, which turned Lego's stomach.
- Oh gawd.

77. Lego even saw mighty MR-tan in combat with a shadow version of herself that knew her every move.
- Oh gawwwd.

78. Truly a Halloween extravaganza freak show was being visited upon MangaRaiders at the behest of pinwheel eyeball. Classic horrors, both real and metaphorical had been brought to life to torment the city's fine residents.
- I'd love to see the metaphorical horror of stubbing your toe on Lego bricks

79. No, none of this compared. What scared Lego, really scared him, was that he was seeing more and more sets of pinwheel eyes on the darkness and the mist.
- Forget about the MR Invasion. This is the day Mangaraiders died. Everything after this is just a fever dream set on by the pinwheel eyes. Why the hell is it even attacking us. RIP mangaraiders.

80. Lego slid to a halt outside the pub. A shotgun blast emanated from within, and he rushed inside to check that all was well. He found Pub-tan having just put down the last in line of a pack of severely decomposed zombies.
- That girl knows how to throw a party, mix a cocktail and handle a shotgun that's for sure. Now that's a bartender for ya.

81. You realize that I'll be in the crossfire then right? You know, right in the center of the explosion? You wouldn't put me in such immediate danger would you Pub-tan? You wouldn't right? Right?" Asked Lego with pleading eyes.
- Right? Pub-tan how long have we known eachother.

82. Pub-tan's side-eyed stair told him all he needed to know. She would put him in clear and present danger after all. "How heartless… " moaned Lego.
- :(

83. Lego, not in on the details of Coryn's arrangement with Pub-tan, just had to grin and accept what Pub-tan was telling him. "Alright alright! Less world ending bottles first, most world ending bottles later. You better hope I die doing this! If not I am going to guilt trip you for soooo many free drinks later!"
- Sounds like a plan. And fair payment. Also I want a Frankenstein cocktail dammit! I need that earthy aftertaste!

84. Mahlua dropped to the ground and started charging up. Purple energy flowed through her tattoos, and lightning arced down her arms. A new feeling took hold in the air as Vacant picked up bags and chalk and reference books. He realized that all of this time he had been afraid of the giant bleeding pinwheel eyeball. That, of course, had been and still was a very reasonable thing to be afraid of. But now that Mahlua was falling into a trance and doing her full witchy thing, Vacant could feel centuries of his screaming English ancestors telling him to fear the witch! Burn the witch! Burn! Fear! Burn! Fear! Burn! Fear! Burn! Burn! Burn!
- That ancestral fear can be quite the thing.

85. Vacant chose this moment to close his eyes and huddle behind a pillar, so our omniscient narrator will be taking over.
- Thank goodness for omniscient narrators.

86. As Mahlua reached the room's axis and Vacant cowered, the earth shook. This time not from Coryn's massive, ponderous steps, but from Mahlua's magical energy pressing itself against the bounds of reality and MangaRaiders' infrastructure. Lighting crackled and sputtered out from Mahlua's feet as she stepped into the central circle. Bolts connected from her position to specifically designed sigils on the walls. These lit up, and in turn branched out like a creeping vine to connect over a dozen other sigils each. By now the room had become an echo chamber of lightning and magic. Anything not physically connected to Mahlua was at risk of vaporization, so it was a very good thing that Vacant had gotten clear when he had the chance.
- Love the imagery here. Powerful stuff.

87. Mahlua would be encompassed by magical energies, and they would spontaneously transform her outfit right before the audience's eyes. She would then finish her presentation wearing the character's updated clothing from her appearance in the flash forward at the end of episode thirteen.
- Hahaha. She totally would've won.

88. Mahlua passed all but the tallest buildings in MangaRaiders, she then eclipsed Coryn's new height, and finally cleared MR Tower itself.
- Daaaamn the man grew tall.

89. Now there was nothing between her and the pinwheel eye itself. By now it felt so close. Was so close. Mahlua couldn't miss. She slammed into it right in the center of its big dumb pupil. It was wet and viscous, and was disgusting to the touch even for a being currently made entirely of energy. The eye pushed in, deeper and deeper. As deep as Lego's mighty guitar had driven it or Pub-tan's largest alcohol bomb. But Mahlua could drive it no further. The eye flexed back out, and the sudden reflection forced Mahlua back into her corporeal form. The witch was launched back the way she came. A moment later she slammed into the stage of MR Pub. Thankfully it was a sturdy construction, so it did not give. Mahlua bounced up and down a few times, and by the time it was all over she was splayed out flat.
        Everything hurt, but slow recognition was coming that she had an audience. Pub-tan and Lego were already gathered in the pub, Lego's hand mid-grab on and alcohol bomb. Vacant was clawing his way up from the hole Mahlua had created to the sewer below. With her adoring fans in mind, Mahlua drew herself up into the sexiest pose she could manage given the broken bones. "Never forget… who's the most extra B-I-T-C-H on this rock…" said Mahlua before promptly passing out.
- I clap hands. That was very badass.

90. Pub-tan poured herself a stiff drink before answering. "Best Lego can see from here, everyone else has succumbed to the eye's will. No word if they're turning into hundred meter tall skeleton monsters like Coryn has, but safe to assume; yes."
- Man seriously that seems like one of those fates worse than death. I'd rather be a zombie or something.

91. Vacant said. "I do have a plan! And hold onto your bottoms, because it's a good one! It's like this, see…" he motioned towards the various napkin sketches. "That big eye thing is what's powering Coryn, and also taking over everyone else in the city. And earlier when Pub-tan shot Coryn in the face, that thing screeched. So I'm thinking then, if we hurt Coryn enough, maybe it will kill the eye."
- I'm calling it this is Coryns' fault! What dimension did you open you mad scientist!

92. "Well…" started Vacant. "I couldn't help but notice Mahlua is in some fancy new digs after all that magic mumbo jumbo of hers. I was thinking maybe she could magic us up some fancy armor and weapons to take him down? Late stage power up in the third act this thing?"
- By the law of Anime this will defintely work.
- By the law of Anime this has to happen. I love fancy magic powerups

93. All eyes turned on Mahlua, who gave the prospect a thought, and then shrugged. "I can try something. But I need everyone to get on board with a lot of things really quick. That ritual wasn't designed for extras. I can't give you a clear answer on what's going to happen."
- This can't possibly end badly.

94. This time though, this time things would be different. The bolt of lightning was huge, and instead of impacting the pinwheel eye, it shattered and branched out. Two trunks of lighting shot down, two to the sides, and a ball formed above it all. A rough bipedal figure had been formed, but it lasted in the air for only a moment. There was a flash of light, and two weighty feet slammed into the ground. Where once a stick-man stood, a hulking warrior boldly posed. This half man, half robot, all solidified lightning energy fighter stood as tall as MR Tower. It's face was scarred with stitches. It wore a cowboy hat atop its head. A guitar was slung around its back, and a frilly black dress adorned its chassis. It was the ZOMBIE COWBOY ROCKSTAR GOTHIC LOLITA BATTLESUIT (Z.C.R.G.L.B. or Zucurglub for short). And within its chest sat the four control chairs, in which the four heroes of themselves found themselves.



It's more beautiful than I could imagine

95. "This is the dumbest thing that's ever happened to me." Said Pub-tan with a deadpan humor. Indeed, for a site devoted to anime, giant mecha battles came up surprisingly little. Now that one was actually about to happen it was a little hard to process.
- And this is a crime. More of this should happen. It's perfect!
- Wait how did a totally horrific situation turn into a Kaijuu battle. You know what nevermind.

96.   "Whatever you do, don't think if anything perverted."
        "Too late…"
        "Damn it!"
        "Enough, everyone needs to calm down right now! Coryn's noticed us."

- I'm not sure who was guilty there between Lego or Mahlua.

97. Words still came from the moderator's mouth, but they were so distorted by the enlarged size of his throat that they came out as deep groans. The Z.C.R.G.L.B. pulled up its fists into a right stance, and Coryn charged.
- Goddamn Coryn is scary . Save himmm

98. The Z.C.R.G.L.B. reached over its shoulder, and this to it brought the giant robot sized guitar down on Coryn's noggin.

99. It was time for the finishing move. Coryn broke into a dead sprint go the
* sentence ending

100.         Z.C.R.G.L.B.. Purple energy flared around the body of the Z.C.R.G.L.B.'s guitar. With the last of its power, the Z.C.R.G.L.B. swung up, smashing the giant guitar into a million pieces against the bottom of Coryn's chin.

101  In a shower of wood and metal Coryn was launched into the air, and straight into the pinwheel eye looming above MangaRaiders. This time there was more than enough force to do the trick. The force of the guitar's strike and that of the giant it helped create impacted the eyeball, and it exploded in a torrent of blood and ectoplasmic viscera.
- Ugh, but yessss

102. Coryn's gigantic body burst apart to, and the Z.C.R.G.L.B. caught the regular sized Coryn which emerged from the R-rated display of gore. Normal Coryn was still in his underwear, but the raiders could see through their view-screens that he was back to glowing his normal electric blue. With a sigh of relief from all involved, the Z.C.R.G.L.B. dispersed back into the magical energies from which it had arisen. The four raiders fell back to solid ground, Coryn unconscious but in tow. They had vanquished the strange god, and all was right on MangaRaiders, at least for a little while longer.

- Phew. Alls well that ends well, but damn Coryn really looked freaky there. Glad he's A Ok.... If it wasn't his fault for summoning the thing.

103.  It was a moment of much revere and enjoyment until 3.0 decided to open his mouth. "No it's not!"
        "What?" Asked Coryn.
        "That's not what happened last year!" Reiterated 3.0. I should know, I reported on it! You stayed the same size the whole night and there was most definitely no monster of the week style mech fight!"
- Ah well. The story was fun

104. "I'm sorry Vacant." Said Echo while sipping some tea out of a paper cup. "I'm not denying that there was a weird eyeball in the sky and that Coryn got possessed, but the second half of that story was pretty much all made up "
- Wait then what really happened?
- Also what tea is that?

105. Devola cut in. "I think she's saying you two are drunk on helicopter fuel, and forgot have of the details of this story as you were telling it. What happened to the bone juice bomb? How did everyone else who got possessed fair? This thing is full of plot holes."
- I mean... Who cares there were mechs dammit!

106. Coryn rose to find himself the bathroom, but was stopped by Devola before he could get too far. "Wait a minute, I'm still unclear about why you were in your boxers the whole time."
- Asking the important questions.

107.  Coryn shrugged, and started back on his way to the restroom. "I was ironing before the party. A little portal experiment I was running on the kitchen counter went bad and the pinwheel eye got through.

108. Not all mysteries have grand reveals. Sometimes they're nothing more than the wrong place at the wrong time, or getting caught with your pants down by an ancient god. Life's funny like that, especially on Halloween.
- Hmm, that's true.

General Comments
My heart is forever broken because the mecha battle did not happen.
Also solid writing dude. You know how to work with an ensemble of characters, and there was some real nice shots and scenes. Definitely missing CS again for those epic fights.
Also  I learnt new stuff! Now, excuse me while I order some Laudanum

Manga Creations / Re: Nature of the Beast©
« on: Today at 07:34:02 AM »
All caps counts as shouting in internet lingo so you should probably write the dialogue without capitalizing it. As for the chapter there are interesting character designs and the action looks like it'd be cool to see.

 However for a first chapter introducing the world I'm not sure what the plot is about.

What was Dash looking for from the Matador? Did he just go there to provoke him? Why are the humans arresting someone without knowing their abilities?

Anyhow having a script like this is very useful for when you want to get your comic drawn. So long as the formatting is good and readeable it's an advantage over simple prose, so that's a good start if you want to get into webtoons and comics.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: Today at 05:25:50 AM »
About the comic: It's a comic and not about me. Just a character.

Re: Sketch Survival. This thing can get in the way of your day to day activities so never break yourself trying to do it. I do it because I want to train myself to draw even when I don't feel like it, so focus on yourself.

I know nothing about finances. 40K what, dollars?

All I know about going after a dream is what I hear from Gary Vaynerchuck: Spend less, save a lot and be patient.

The one practical tip I know about becoming a better artist is: Finish a rim of paper with drawing and you'll be better by the time your done. Repeat that process and you'll come out better on the other end.

Day 91

Manga Art Gallery / Re: Legomaestro's Art Box
« on: Today at 05:22:49 AM »

Gonna return to mspaint again at this point. The infinite brushes and inability to find the one that works for me is really cramping my style.

Still. Hoping to find a sort of cleaner line style to be able to make my comics more legible, but I still love sketchiness. It'll take some time but I hope I find some middle ground.

For now if I manage to make a single coloured piece that I'm happy with in terms of line quality and colours I'll be satisfied that I've trained that.

Maybe I need a line regimen or something. Will see

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: April 08, 2020, 05:35:14 PM »
Day 55

There is a scissors out there that can cut threads of fate, and I want it.

I've done the best I can to be a great swordsman. Not the best, not by a long shot. The top 1,000, maybe, and even then all I needed was a bad day or a bad matchup with a magician for me to die. I had pushed martial arts to the very fabric that martial arts could be pushed, and I could cleave through steel and rock without damaging a wooden blade, but enough was enough. I wanted a cheat code too.

The problem was, all the good ones were already taken. Too expensive. Already defended against. No, I needed something that was special enough to be of use to me when things got hairy, and yet obscure enough that not every mage, bounty hunter tomb raider or eccentric had already picked it up.

I heard about the scissors only because I read it on a scroll from a dragon I helped kill. I took the scroll as payment, and now I'm going after it: The scissors that can cut fate. It is said that in the right hands, you can avoid Death for as long as you wanted. You could rewrite your own history.

It sounded perfect.

Only problem was, I'd need to steal it from The Cursed Woods.

And in a land full of cursed woods, demonic lakes and dragon lairs with names that went for as long as 50 syllables, you knew it had to be special to only need to be called by what it was: A Cursed Wood.

It was ancient, and deadly.

And I'd enjoy every bit of the venture going through it.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: April 08, 2020, 05:30:53 PM »
Day 90

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: April 07, 2020, 07:39:59 AM »
Day 54

The next 12 seconds where the luckiest that Thomas Crawford, 12, would ever have in his life, and he didn't know it at the time and never would, unless he was an omnicious diety that could read the timelines of those who had died.

When he accidentally dropped his coin looking for his ticket to show the conductor it rolled towards the door of the train, forcing the conductor to stop the closing doors as he picked up the coin. As he was apologising, his headphones dislodged from their phone and started playing Sunshine Type by Turnover out loud, and as he apologised in French, the conductor was so impressed by his command of the language, even though he looked very British.

In those insiginficant moments he managed to delay the train enough that the cascading effect would save 20 people that day from getting invovled in various car accidents that would've killed them.

In that insiginificant moment the conductor took up learning languages as a hobby and inspired his grandchild to master language and eventually become a Nobel Peace Prize winner (He heard of Thomas through his grandfathers' stories later)

In that insignificant moment Eliane Merryweather heard a song she'd been listening to on repeat at that very moment, and quite in her natural do-it-before-thinking style she asked for Thomas' number and they started an online relationship that would span a decade, before they eventually gave in and moved in together.

There would never be a day as fortituous for Thomas Crawford as that, but it was a day that put him in the surplus as far as karma is concerned, as for how good his life was? Who can say? I'm just a god.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: April 07, 2020, 07:32:20 AM »
Day 89

Manga Art Gallery / Re: Legomaestro's Art Box
« on: April 06, 2020, 03:08:19 PM »
Nah I had him even before I saw FLCL. But this isn't the exact character. Just a TV head in this case haha

Comics and other Gallery / Re: Miscellaneous Arts and Sketchbook
« on: April 06, 2020, 09:31:25 AM »

Trace 56/100

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: April 06, 2020, 05:31:44 AM »
Day 53

4 Days in the hospital wasn't nearly enough to recover from the gunshot wound, but he couldn't spend another day in there. He snuck out with his leather coat and made a stop by a local liquor store before taking the bus to his place. He almost passed out from the pain, but he did get there and collapsed in his recliner.

He preferred his granddads' remedy to things. A lot of whisky, a lot of dried meat and canned beans if he happened to feel up to eating, a lot of brooding in the dark. It was his process to get through things. It was his process to break down the case.

Damsel in distress. Hired him to watch over a cheating husband. Easy enough, until it turned out the cheating husband was actually a private investigator hired to look into the Damsel herself, who was in fact the cheater in the relationship. One thing led to another, and she put a 38. slug into his shoulder.

He looked at the wound, at least one week away from looking any better, but knew she had him dead to rights. She didn't kill him on purpose.

He took another sip of his whisky.

This would be an interesting case.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: April 06, 2020, 05:28:10 AM »
Day 88

Comics and other Gallery / Re: Miscellaneous Arts and Sketchbook
« on: April 05, 2020, 04:42:30 PM »

Trace Regimen


Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: April 05, 2020, 09:57:46 AM »
Day 52

He went to the cabin to write the novel, because his agent had finally been fed up enough to forcefully deposit a thousand dollars into his account and send him on an all expenses paid trip out here.

"Look, this book is more about the money you'll make in royalties. If you don't get it out by the end of this year everyones' reputation is at stakes, and the memes about how slow you are with writing aren't cute to the fans anymore. They're losing interest."

Fine by me. Fortunately I was very mobile. No wife, no kids, no dog, and I'd been in the woods too long ago. I barely remembered what they looked like. I figured it'd be nice.

I spent the first day sitting in front of my laptop and staring at the blinking dot.

The second day I spent chopping firewood just for fun, and watching the trees. I was bored out of my mind.

A week passed like that, and I found myself missing noise. The silence was nice, but I couldn't function like this.

I forced myself to write something. I even got the required amount of words, but it was terrible writing. Shoddy. Forced. Absolutely terrible.

I deleted the script before I headed back into town. I ordered a burger at McDonalds and took a train to the city and sat myself in a cafe. My deadline was in 40 hours, but ten coffees and 5 chicken sandwiches later I had a sloppier script, but something I was proud of.

Best writing I'd ever done.

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