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Messages - legomaestro

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MR Pub / Re: Chit Chat 2020
« on: October 20, 2020, 12:43:18 PM »
Oh nooo I hate penut allergies.

Well Lego would giant desert boar burgers. Or he'd prepare prodigous amounts of shark meat.

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: October 20, 2020, 12:41:41 PM »
Day 11

Fairy Snow

There are days when the fairy snow covered even the gulag where the political prisoners were being kept, and for all their unbridged power across the continent, the government could do nothing about it.

Fairy snow was said to be the remnants of the old magic that crafted the very world. The elves would know more about it, but ever since they'd left humans to their devices magic was all but unknoweable.

Regardless, the warm magical snow carressed the hearts of the captured. They felt energized, even beaten and half starved, and catastrophically for the government, even after years of torture, they felt hope.

The fairy snow fell on evil and good heads a like and barely remained for more than an hour before fading away, but now, as it had done many times before it reminded the downtrodden that there would be light at the end of this long tunnel.

Starter Gallery / Re: just started drawing more, pls have mercy xD
« on: October 19, 2020, 05:58:21 AM »
Pretty cool! I love the colour scheme quite a bit, and the expression and pose are really striking.

Practice makes perfect as they say. Looks like you referenced the armour and stuff for this dude. Roman by any chance?

I like them. And also welcome back to MR. Hope things have calmed down a bit

Music / Re: What are you listening to
« on: October 19, 2020, 05:56:20 AM »
I'll check these out. I think singles are my go to for now because albums feel a heck of a lot long.


Funny enough I found Twilight to Starlight by Smashing Pumpkins and I finally got why people love them. I know I'm lazy but listening to albums as they were intended to be listened to from start to finish is such an awesome experience. I need to do that more... After I go through some singles.

And damn Wake of a nation. Putting that on now haha.

PS: Yeaup you guys are the resident musicians on the block. OGHM and Paipis have some hot takes too hehe

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: October 19, 2020, 05:53:23 AM »
Day 10

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: October 19, 2020, 05:51:47 AM »
Day 10

Mimi-chan is Mine

"No- please-" Terry swung the hammer and broke the pathetic otakus' knee cap. He held a hand to his mouth as he screamed,

"Consider this a mercy. If you ever so much as look for Mimi-chan again, I'll come back."

With that he took the boys' copy of Lost Hearts in Goldtown : Redux and pocketed it in his rucksack.  He hopped out the window, jumping down easily from the low roof and went out of the yard and over the fence, panting heavily.

Today had been a productive day. Lost Hearts was a rare game indeed, and finding two copies in one night was almost unheard of. Developed by the reclusive genius O-Majoris, he only released 2,000 copies into the wild with unbelieveable commercial success.

But it was not proper to talk about Lost Hearts in the cold terms of capitalistic victory. It was a romantic visual novel that offered countless paths and experiences with countless heroines, and Terry had found his one true love in Mimi-chan. Cute, beautiful Mimi-chan.

He had spent a night with her after winning her heart, and realised to his sickening disgust that several other unworthy men had done the same.

No, he could not stand it.

He'd pry all the copies of the game of their cold dead hands if he had to.

And he had the money and means to do it. Thank goodness for being conscripted into the army. Thank goodness that he loved guns and knives.

No one had died yet, but if it came to that, then it would.

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: October 18, 2020, 06:22:48 AM »
Day 9


They brought the bricks, one by one to the edge of the ravine. They had been hermits for many years, but they were hungry, so they'd rob the next spice caravan that came through.

"Brother Michael, isn't it better to starve than to commit such a crime?" One hermit said. His once youthful glowing face was an approximation of a skeleton, his eyes and jaws sunken, his gut bloated from malnutrition. He was so weak he'd only been able to bring the bricks one by one.

Brother Michael grunted, "Then starve, just like our dearly departed Brother Lewis. Me? I intend on understanding the mysteries of the spiritual realm on a full stomach."

The spice caravans were barely guarded. The fat merchants always assumed that nobody lived in this part of the desert, and were cheap enough to avoid the extra cost of a guard for the journey of several leagues. If the bricks hit their target - and they would, there were about a thousand of them, gathered from an abandoned castle - then if not for fatal injury they'd be seriously stunned. Other acolytes would then set upon them with knives sharpened out of animal bones.

The caravan came into view,

"When we do this sin, we will pray for forgiveness. Not after."

The hermits beside him swallowed, or at least tried to. The oasis they'd been subsisting on had dried up a day ago. And no amount of prayer had given them any other ideas than robbery and murder.

The caravan came into view...

Brother Michael inhaled, held the brick up. It was framed in the sun, and he looked like a veriteable prophet coming down from a hill with sun on his back.


Later, in his temple of white marble stone and flowing fountains, some ten years older, Elder Michael pored over his script, rewriting The Holy Book by hand for the seventh time in his life time as a sign of his penance. Age had caught up with him, and he had rosy cheeks and a bit of a belly. Long gone were the days of fasting, being an Elder and leader of his denomination.

"And man... Fights against his body, day and night, just as The Spirit fights The Evil one, from the beginning of time... to the end."

He sat there in his chair, silent, solemn. He did his duties, silent and solemn, but in his head he could still hear the screams, still see the blood.

(The first brick they'd thrown had struck a child, the son of the merchant, excited to be leading the horses. He could still see the brains, dusted up in the sand. The boy had shivered for a whole minute before dying. )

And he wrote more in the book. And he imagined he was smearing it full of blood and dust, and he felt hell calling his name.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: October 18, 2020, 06:13:09 AM »
Day 9

Music / Re: What are you listening to
« on: October 17, 2020, 05:46:54 PM »
Damn looks like this year has a lot to offer music wise. I should try out listening to some new albums for sure. My playlist has become way too stale haha .

CosPlay / Re: Suuper's Sewing and Crafts (Not quite cosplay yet)
« on: October 17, 2020, 05:46:10 PM »
Damn that looks legit useable suuper. Where the heck did you learn to do that haha.

And dude the mask! I wanna make sooooome. Do you just google this stuff or do you work with your own intuition? Colour me impressed.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: October 17, 2020, 05:44:45 PM »
Yeah I think I need to pause Sketch Survival and a lot of my projects to aim for a masterpiece. At the very least I'll know how far I can push myself and be honest about my actual skill level.

That being said old habits die hard so I'll go ahead and post my day 8 (haha I did get confused there)

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: October 17, 2020, 05:42:49 PM »
Day 8


He jumped through the window and landed in the living room, smashing the coffee table even as he patted out the fire on his coat. He'd barely survived the incendiary grenade.

"Gramps, how the hell did you survive that." He exhaled. He'd definitely not be diving into any war-related photos for a long time.

He cleaned up the pieces of the coffee table and still dressed in his WWI outfit sorted through the rest of the photos. His phone was also on the table, but he'd tested his powers on it to the full extent. Or rather, as an introvert he rarely took photos so he didn't have much to dive into.

He picked up another photo. It was his mom. 1979, Cuba, where his father first met her.


He was curious enough. Closing his eyes he touched his forehead against the photo, and as he'd discovered last week the transition was immediate, but smooth. He felt the warm summer sun, heard the music and when he opened his eyes, he realized he was none other than a bartender on a walm sultry evening in Cuba, serving drinks at a beach party.

This dive would be interesting. And if all went well, he'd make it even better for his parents than they ever imagined.

Members Workshops / Re: SKETCH SURVIVAL!!!!!!!!
« on: October 16, 2020, 06:56:50 AM »
Day 3

I think I also need to use a heck of a lot more construction for a heck of a long time. I'm very good at seeing images in scribbles and stuff but having construction a part of my process might help me not overthink coming up with images. At least I've done enough stick figure regimens to get used to this more, but I can consciously do it for characters now. Maybe this'll help.

Manga Writer workshop / Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« on: October 16, 2020, 06:55:25 AM »
Day 7

Ronin and Squire

Sakamoto parried the bandits' sword and punched him into the face, flooring him. "Your ways make no sense to me. Why can't you become a knight on your own?"

"It's just the way things are done, Okay!" Robin rolled and stabbed her knife into the leg of another bandit. She tripped him up as he screamed, and kicked him in the head, knocking him out.

"It's the same way you need a Lord to become samurai, is it not?"

"I can still be worthy without a Lord." Sakamoto grunted, impressed at how quick the girl was.

With that, the four bandits were done. Panting, old ronin and young squire sheathed their katana and daggers respectively.

They were an odd pair, those two.

Sakamoto, the 50 year old man, wore dark green loose fitting clothes with a hood. His katana and straw hat the only indication that he was typical samurai. His katana too was far too ornate, far too beautiful to be considered one of a battle hardened warrior. But he had been gifted it from Lila, a merchants' daughter, who he had every intention of marrying once he regained his honour as a samurai.

The knightless squire, Robin was diminuitive, even for her 14 years of age. She wore black leather armour and had a buckler on her back, at her side were her trusted daggers. She came from a cloister that had once doubled as a sect for assassinations against heretics, and she had every intention of becoming a loyal squire and then knight of someone - anyone - who was honourable and without any hypocrisy. She had broken her vows, stolen her gear and now teamed up with the man to find a land where she could learn to become a virtuous knight.

"It'll get dark soon. We must continue. The next village is not too far."

"They won't make it if we leave them like this." Robin pointed at the men. Already she was looking in her pack to bandage the bandits' wounded leg so that he didn't bleed out.

"You waste your time and condemn others to being robbed if you heal them. Let nature take its course."

Robin grinned, "Oh, make no mistake. I have every intention of turning them in."

Her stomach growled, "Besides... I'm a bit hungry."

Sakamoto grunted, then headed to the woods, "They must have horses or something nearby. we'll drag them into town."

Robin grinned, "Thank you kind Sir."

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