The Incorrigible Walkthrough of Comics

Finally, an art update!

I’ve been reading The Incorrigible Children ofAshton Place by Maryrose Wood and it is FANTASTIC. I’ve always loved funny historical books with a fantasy/supernatural spin to it (hence I’m such a big fan of Diana Wynne Jones.)! Maryrose Wood is already on my favourite writers list!

Fantastic series and I recommend it to anyone who loves Middle Grade or just the funny historical fantasy genre in general!

My favourites include Penelope, our spirited main character and Lady Constance Ashton who is so animated and charismatic that it’s hard for you to hate her. Also, Simon is adorable.

Drew this after taking a break from inking the horror comic that Grim and I are doing for an Anthology.

Speaking of the anthology, here’s a preview our story! Again, I’ve paired up with Grim, as I always do, and have somehow managed to squeeze this between all the comics and my day job! 

Also, the anthology is for charity. Check out the Comics page to see the other Charity anthology we participated in last year!

And also, because I’ve been meaning to make this for a while, here’s a walkthrough of how I made a page of :EPOCH Files. Nothing detailed, but let’s see how this goes.

Once Grim finishes the script, I tumbnail /storyboard  the whole comic. Afterwards we move to revisions. Once revisions are made, I go ahead and start drafting the pages.

The drafts usually take several tries and I start to rethink and rework the layout. Once I get that done I'm ready to make proper sketches. I use Paint Tool SAI.

Making fine sketches takes some time and it's where I, unlike the previous steps, pay more attention to the depth , perspective and anatomy of the figures and backgrounds.

Here's what the fine sketch looks like. I usually  do the background first, then the figures but I jump back and forth sometimes.

Then I proceed to ink. The time I use differs depending on the page but I ink pretty quickly . During this part, I tend to make alterations to the original sketch. It's just a constant editing process.

 Note: The blue and red lines are margin lines. Blue being the "Live" area and red being be "Cut Off" area, or "Bleed" area. I use this format for printing (No plans for printing :EPOCH Files so far though).

Once I'm done inking, I move to doing colour flats. I HATE this part because it can take ages. This stage still has room to make edits to your line art. Once I finish the figures, I move onto the background.

Once the flats on figures and backgrounds are done, I start shading them. This is a pretty quick process, unless I make some edits.

Once done, I move to Photoshop where I add SFX and  texture brushes to add skin blemishes. This prevents the overall comic from looking like it's made of plastic.

Then I add the dialogue. I usually add the text first, then the speech bubbles. After a few more minor edits (eg. The  color of the wall.), I'm DONE!

I hope that was at least a little interesting  read/look at!

Ok, I believe 2 posts in one day is enough. 

Much Love

.L

Massive Art Pile!

Today's update shall consist of 2 PARTS!

First, as promised, an art dump. Second, actual recent stuff, plus a walkthrough!

I’ve recently tried out a different way of inking digitally and while I’m happy with the result, took a too long. It’ll be a while before I can ink that way with my normal speed.

Now a dump of some drawings that I put up on my tumblr or twitter. I always end up forgetting about them.

Sketchbook River from :EPOCH Files in a simple alternate outfit.

Sketchbook Mary from an upcoming comic; Howard & Edgar.

Sketchbook Warren, a character from a story I'm writing called Refuge.

Travelbook concept art of an upcoming anthology comic. Done on the ferry.

Scrap paper drawing of a Character from said upcoming comic anthology.

Kids in the library say the strangest things.

A drawing done for an old artsy high school friend of our "avatars".

And there you have it! Actually, there are more, but they're not available to me right now. Hopefully I'll get them all up at some point.

Much love!

.L

Rings and Roses

I am in a state of drowsiness, thanks to the medication I’ve received from the doctors the day before, and it is in this very state that I have decided to try my hand at writing a ghost story—or at least something ghostly and mysterious. Mind you, I’ve never quite written anything for the genre, though I’ve read a great many of the classics. With my inexperience in mind, I’ve decided to reinvent a dream I’ve had several months ago.

It goes like this…

RINGS AND ROSES

It was a particularly misty night and Mary and her older brother Harry were taking the bus home from school. Their house rested on the other side of the hill, which was quite a walk from town, where their Primary school was located, so they inclined themselves to take the bus, which runs half an hour apart. It was quite the wait, especially if you were unlucky enough to miss it, but it was much better than walking on foot, since the route to their house was through the dark and mysterious forest and over a wooden bridge.

It was of course, quite unfortunate that the bus had decidedly broken down in the middle of forest, and right on top of that particular wooden bridge.
The bus had been mostly empty. It was only the driver, an old white haired man, and Mary and Harry, who were left with no other choice than to march back home on foot. 

Of course, with dark and mysterious forests, come dark and mysterious things. Who wouldn't jump when the wind sang through the trees, making them whisper ghastly secrets? Who wouldn't yelp when the glowing yellow eyes of witches and goblins blinked at you from behind the bushes?

Mary held Harry’s hand that was warm and firm because he was brave and strong and had promised to protect her no matter what. Promises were hard to keep, Mary thought as she held her brother’s hand tight.

There was song in the air as they passed by drooping trees and crying streams and they stopped in their footsteps to listen a moment.

Ring-a-ring o’ roses

The voices sang with glee and splendor. There was the sound of children and laughter in the distance beyond the trees and off the road. Harry tugged at Mary’s hand. 

“Perhaps there will be someone who is willing to give us a ride back home.” He reasoned and she followed. 

They stumbled over the bushes and Mary squealed when a prickly branch of a rose bush caught the hem of her dress. They walked until they reached a clearing. The sky was grey and the air smelled of flowers. Around the clearing was a large array of rose bushes, but as beautiful as these red roses were, Mary and Harry could not turn away from a sight as intriguing as the sight before them. 

There must have been at least a dozen of children in the field with their arms locked, skipping along to the sounds of the rustling trees. 

There was a tall thin man, with a raggedy suit and coattails. He turned to Mary and Harry slowly and held out his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face, showing too many teeth than a man should have. 

“Care to join us?” The voice was unrecognizable and Mary, feeling fear for children who looked pale and blue as they danced in circles, shook her little head. Harry on the other hand seemed to welcome the idea. A wide grin appeared on his face as he nodded;

A pocket full of posies

 “Yes,” Harry seemed to have forgotten the whole ordeal of getting home and was readily pulling Mary along to join in on the fun.

“No!” Mary yelped and yanked her hand free. She didn't know how Harry’s smile could get any wider, but it did as he beckoned her with a limp hand. Mary was fed up and ran back into the trees. Moments before the clearing disappeared completely, she turned back to see Harry, joining in the circle, his face pale and blue and that sickening wide grin on his face.

Ashes! Ashes!

Mary went stumbling into the forest, unsure where to turn. She ran and ran but the laughter and songs grew louder and louder nonetheless. No matter where she turned, the sound was still there. She huffed and puffed and cried when the rose bushes tore her skirt and cut her knee. She looked up to find herself wrapped in a sea of rose bushes. She stumbled out, with prickly thorns cutting her skin and found herself in the clearing once more.
The tall man was there before her and when she looked up, she never noticed how bone-white his face was, and how dark and deep his eyes were. He reached out his bony hand. 

“Care to join us?” Mary was tired and took the cold and bony hand in her small ones. She could hear fiddles now. The sound of merry strings singing a tune and children laughing and prancing was all around her. A grin crept to her face.

She skipped to the children, hooked her arm around her brother’s and danced and sang together so merrily that she didn't notice her skin turning blue and how cold her brother’s hand was.

We all fall down!

This ends the somewhat ghostly story and I hope you enjoyed it. Once again, this was written very quickly and has yet to be edited—I do apologize as I know most of my written works are unedited.

With that, I shall leave.

Sincerely

.L

Tune

Ah. I wrote a little thing after getting an idea. Unedited so I apologise for the silly mistakes :|

TUNE

The rain was good. The first few drops had already restored a little bit of my strength. I fumbled with my suit, untangling the silver Spindle from my belt.
It began to pour. A thousand icy needles falling from the gray sky made everything look white. Through my helmet visor, almost nothing was visible, and had I been an actual human, the rain would’ve been a huge disadvantage.

Of course, I wasn't human. None of us were. Through the pouring rain, I could hear the resounding cheers from my brothers and sisters. The rain meant fewer risks of losing people on the job. It was never easy hunting down Foundlings, but when it rained, we get stronger, faster, and we always win.

It was our instruments of course, that made us this way. The irony of it all was that Foundlings strive on sunlight or heat, where as we have always thrived in the dark and cold. We were supposed to be doing this for the good of humanity, but we were always misinterpreted, misjudged. Every now and then, the humans catch a glimpse of us, a dark shadowy figure—they were afraid of us, but humans were notorious for fearing the unknown.
The Foundling before me was a man. He was tall, with dark hair and white skin. I suddenly wondered if he was handsome to humans.  To me though, his long body was distorted, breaking into pieces and reforming, like watching a broken video.  His face was unrecognisable and his movements were jittery but he was fast. With one quick swoop, he had closed a great deal of distance between us. He swung his arms over his head—he was intending to knock me down.

I pivoted to the side, quickly making moves to jab the spindle, which was a long fork-like device, into its body. It jittered just then, breaking into pieces and reforming in an instant. I gritted my teeth and when I saw it stretch its elongated arm, I braced myself. Its arm came quickly, hitting me in the stomach and knocking out the air from me. I stumbled and rolled back to my side, managing to dodge its next attack. It jittered again, and I counted the seconds, like I had been trained. I waited until he jittered back and reformed and snapped into action. I slipped the Spindle between its ribs and the second I did, it crumbled and its mouth gaped, letting out a silent scream before turning to ash.
I watched it chip away as the rain water tore through it, leaving nothing but the mud and dirt. I looked around. The whiteness of the rain had faded. We stood in the middle of a grassy plain, which was part of the city’s park. It was clear now and the rain had slowed. I could see my brothers and sisters, who were all clad in suits and helmets and belts as I was. All of them had their Spindles in hand.

Tonight, we were victorious. We marched towards each other, wordlessly checking if any of us were injured.
We held each other’s shoulder, a gesture we had picked up from the humans many years ago, and went our separate ways. I walked away slowly, lifting my gaze to the dark sky. The rain and turned into a drizzle. I gathered what little rain water was left into my palm and thanked it. I marched onward, letting my instruments shift back into its disguise.  I was girl, twelve with dark hair and black eyes.

Our instruments made us look like people, but in truth we looked nothing like them.  In this day and age, my brothers and sisters have adopted ways to blend in with the world in order to hunt Foundlings. Foundlings themselves have the habit of adapting their appearance to those that bore hatred and corruption. It was no shock that they mostly took the form of humans.

Foundlings spread anger and resentment. They cause chaos and unbalance and in turn, create a vile noise that resounds in all those who feel anger and hatred. My brothers and sisters and I were here to control that, to eliminate as much noise as we can.

Foundlings cause unrest, and disharmony and we aim to tune the world and its inhabitants, to create peace and balance.  In order to do that, we bear arms to those of hatred and corruption. We will cleanse the surface of the world and rid it of its stains of hatred and corruption. Only then can humanity find true harmony.
I took a step forward into the street, letting the pitter patter of drizzling rainwater sooth me and cleanse me free from inhuman scars and bruises.
In the old language, we were called the Children of Storms, but even for us, it sounded old and conceited. For official purposes, we were called Conductors. 

That's all I wrote! Anyway, I shall be updating this blog with some art and Comic related news very soon! 

Much love

.L

Wow

Wow.

How long has it been? March is almost over and not a single post? No art? No writing?? WHAT HAS BECOME OF THIS YEAR’S PRODUTIVITY?

Despite the lack of bloggy updates, I’ve been very productive. So much that I haven’t even the energy to update! Even my tumblr has been collecting dust, aside from the artsy reblogs.

Anyway, February was extremely tiring and I haven’t been able to draw properly due to the busy-ness…  ah ok let me start over.

I had to take care of several things during Feb, so art and writing were put on hold and even comic updates were delayed. Now that March has rolled in and I am free of other worries,  regular updates shall resume! Hopefully.

Grim and I have been hard at work with comic stuff! In fact, just a few minutes ago, we came up with some pretty solid stuff! It’ll be a while before we get to work on it, but it’ll be worth the wait! At work, Grim and I have to make several promotional posters. When the fat cats want changes, it’s a waste to just toss them away so….. Sketches made from A4 paper torn into 4 pieces with markers and a felt tip pen xD

Thorax

Sordis

Moira

River

Speaking of comics, we've recently got all our anthology copies!

Gurukitty's Once Upon A Time Anthology (I did the cover!)

Ink'd Well Comic's Charity anthology, Fearsome Fables!

They’re all super pretty and filled with awesome stories and comics so I hope you guys check’em out! You can find more info on Grim and my contributed stories at the COMICS page!

Grim’s been working hard with inking too! Does some pretty god linework after only a short time! We’ll be posting update on that too (Upin her blog! Check it out!)!

Here's one! Inks by Grim, Pencils by LuvWyer

We both still have a long way to go, and the process is a painful one, but the end results are what matter! 

Also, the Korean variety show Running Man is hilarious. WATCH IT.

All that aside, I've been working on a new story, one that stemmed from the short story snippet I wrote back in January. It's tentatively called Refuge and I'm still ironing out the kinks! I've written the outline in 3 days so there are a lot of things needed to be rewritten, removed or replaced. It's told in the perspective of Warren, an immortal boy and is hundreds of years old, but it mostly centres around Mel, a fire-starter who is emotionally and mentally unstable.

Mel (left) and Warren (right)

I've got a pretty clear idea of how Warren looks like, but I can't seem to get it down. Either way, Mel's all set!

In other news, it's Diana Wynne Jones month and I've been reading her Chrestomanci series! Fanart super soon!

That's all for now! Next update will be an art dump for sure! Plus some character designs I've got in mind for comics and stories! Here’s to a year filled with creativity!

Much Love!

.L

His name is Warren.

A sudden blog update!

If you follow me on DeviantART, then you'll know that I'm currently in the middle of something so updates everywhere will be scarce, BUT seeing as I had written something in the past, I though I should upload it just for the heck of it.

A tiny little scene that came to me while shopping for art supplies earlier last month! About some sort of immortal teenage boy.... His name is Warren...

I suppose when you’re lying in a puddle of mud, with cold rain falling down over you, it really puts things in perspective

I was never really good at anything. I was an average student, had normal friends. I didn’t stick out particularly. I had no skills or talents. I wasn’t good at cooking or sports—I was a terrible athlete. I suppose if I had ever put any proper effort into soccer or basketball, I wouldn’t be lying here on the ground with a hole in my chest.

Don’t worry! I am well and alive—at least I think I am.

I heard the sound of heavy soles on gravel, but I didn’t turn to my attacker He was already scared as it is, so I lay there, facing the grey skies. We were in an alley and I saw the top of the buildings shrink further into the sky. There was the faint sound of traffic in the distance, mixed with the scarred whimpering of my attacker. He didn’t mean to stab me of course. He had tried to mug me but I was feeling strangely self-regulating that day so I had retaliated, even after seeing the large knife. It came down on me hard, which had shocked me at first, but then again, the way I had come carelessly after him, even with his hand raised above my head, I suppose he was strong enough to jab a hole in me.

It was strange, laying there and not moving, even though I could have easily gotten up and punched him square in the face. I would have knocked him out too, called the police and have them deal with him. If he ever started screaming about a teenage boy coming back from the dead, they would just think he was crazy.

It sounded like a sound plan, but looking into his terrified eyes, I could see he had not planned on stabbing anyone. He was just cold and wet and in need for a little money.

I would have given it to him too, if it were any other day. I’ve been mugged before.

Today though, my strange rebellious streak had cost me my life—so to speak.

He hovered over me for a few more seconds, and then the knife dropped from his gloved hands. He was visibly shaking all over. It wasn’t long before he kicked his heels and ran off. I couldn’t tell where, from the angle I was in, so I waited until I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore.

The rain had eased by the time I turned to pick myself up. My school bag was left untouched, but flipped over next to me. My school uniform was soaked in dirt and trash juice, not to mention the hole in my chest. I looked down at my shirt to survey the damage. Amazingly enough, the knife had sliced me right between the folds of my shirt met, leaving a few dangling plastic buttons but no tears.

The hole in my chest was grotesque and I waited for the skin to knit back together. They didn’t and I had assumed it was because the wound was much deeper. It was safe to assume that a bigger wound would take longer to heal.

I picked up my dripping wet school bag and slung it over my shoulder.

I pulled my sweater tighter around my chest to hide the wound and walked through the alley, with the original intent of getting home through a shortcut. I passed a stained glass window that was glazed with brown and green. I saw my sepia reflection and analysed myself.

My tousled hair was orange on my reflection, even though it was light brown and with eyes to match. I looked like an average 15 year old boy. Average in every aspect, but by now it should be obviously that I’m not as average as I’d like to be.

By the time I reached the end of the alley, I couldn’t help but turn to see if my attacker had stuck around or if he decided to run back to rid of my body. There was no sign of him, so I stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalk where a few people passed, busy with their noses on the screen of their phones.

And that's all I wrote! Perhaps there will be more written shenanigans this year?

Ok back to work!

.L

Updates on things and also art

Ok so I haven't updated this is a while?

NaNoWriMo was a no-go sadly, since things came up and I had to put up commissions instead. It's been rough, despite the mini-vacation I had and things will continue to be rough probably until the end of March? Or later in the next year. BUT humans were designed to soldier on, so that is what I shall do!

Here's a sketch dump!

NSFW for sketchy sexy times

More in the future!

.L

NaNoWriMo Week 1 Recap!

Ho'kay. 

I've been juggling Day job work, Comic work, NaNoWriMo and a little bit of school work. Who needs a social life?!

Week 1 was pretty stressful seing as how, unlike previous endeavors, I had NO IDEA what I was going to write. I attempted at an outline but only got as far as... 5 major scenes I think. It's rather refreshing, like how I've written prompts, I feel pretty relieved that I'm still able to write something, mind you it's nothing of a masterpiece.

Anyway, I've managed to survive week 1, keeping a steady flow of words going each day, though I know week 2 might very well just slay me--I SALL NOT GIVE UP!

Happy Week 1 guys!

.L

NaNoWriMo 2012 Fou and Folly

It's 5 days into NaNoWriMo and I'm already stuck. 

So I took a few minutes to grab a bunch of photos and Saturate the shit out of them on Photoshop and put together a quick cover in hopes of recovering from the early stages of NaNoSlump.

Here's to more productivity for the rest of November!

.L

Writing Excercise

Switching it up a bit because NaNoWriMo 2012 is inbound! Giving it another try this year :)

I wrote a weird thing this time. I think I was trying to be clever but failed and it just became a bizarre thing. Took a completely different approach and it was mostly a kind of stream on consciousness thing anyway. Didn't proofread. As usual. Untitled so far, but let's just call it...

I See You One Day

I see you one day. You walk pass me and you do not notice me but I see you and I watch you. I can see that you are young and I can see that you are tall and I can tell you are strong. I do not mean to follow you but I do, you do not see me though. I stay at the back because I know if you see me you might be taken by me and that just will not do. It will not do because people are always taken by me and you will be jealous.

I see you today and you are friendly. Not to me but to everyone and they are friendly to you. You work hard and everyone is friendly to you.

I see you meet her and you are so happy and so high that you do not see anything else on earth. She is with you and you are with her and you are both high and mighty and happy. You are proud and fearless. She is with you and you are with her.

I see you today too and you wear that comfortable scarf you love. I can tell it is comfortable because I touch it and it is soft and warm.  I walk closer to you because I have to and because I want to. I am close enough to see you are much younger than me, even with those grey hairs that I see you hide with your hand. Your skin is rough and soft and you are cold and you turn away when I am near. She tries to see me sometimes and I think you try to see me too but you do not want to. That is good because people are always taken by me and you will be jealous.

You still do not see me but one night she does and she cannot take her eyes off me. You are with her but she is taken by me and she is not there with you. You are still not taken by me and that is good. It is good because people are always taken by me and you will be jealous.

I see you in the day, you drink coffee and eat muffins at the bus station and at the bus station you wait with everyone. I reach for your hand and you walk away and you laugh and you pretend like you know do not know I am there.

I see you in the night, you arrive home and you are hungry and you are tired. You eat supper and you watch television. You do not hear the television because you are tired and you are afraid. You wash and you go to bed and you are afraid because you are alone and then you dream, you are happy and you wake up and then you are alone again. You are alone because she is not there and she cannot take her eyes off me.

I talk to you today but you do not hear me because people do not really hear me. They see me sometimes by accident and when they see me they cannot take their eyes off me. I am not very pretty and I am not very charming but you are.

You are pretty. You are pretty and I hear you speak and your voice is silk. You are kind and you work hard and you are generous and funny and I feel shame. You are alone and you are kind to everyone but not everyone is kind to you but you are okay. You do not see anyone and you sometimes you see her but she cannot take her eyes off me and I feel shame.

You see her and you want her but you cannot have her because she is taken by me and you are jealous.

You try to see me one day. Your eyes are blue and you are tall but you slouch because you are tired. Your skin is soft but it is also rough and it is also dry. You do not hide the greys in your hair and you try to see me and I feel shame because that just will not do. It will not do because people are always taken by me and you should not be jealous.

I walk pass you and you try see me and you try watch me. You try to see I am not young and I am not pretty. You try to look at me and you try not to turn away but I do.

You try to see me in the day when you drink your coffee and I am next to you when you wait for the bus.

You try to see me in the night and you are not hungry but you are tired and you are alone. You are alone and afraid and I feel shame because you try see me and I am not pretty and I am not charming. You wait for me and you call me and I come to you.

You are afraid and I see you are not wearing your scarf. Your scarf is soft like your neck and your hair and your skin and it is warm. I see your chest rise and fall and you are sad and happy and afraid because you are jealous.

Your eyes are closed but you still try to see me. If you see me you cannot take your eyes off me and I feel shame because you see her and you are jealous.

I am not pretty and I am not charming and sometimes I am kind but not always. But I am patient. I touch you and you feel me and you close your eyes and do not open them. Your neck is soft but it is not warm. Your chest does not rise and you are cold.

You are happy because you see her.

Then you see me and you are taken.

There are a few lines I like though so I shared ^^ Gearing up for NaNo and I barely have an idea what it'll be about. More updates soon!

EDIT: Oh yes, I made a picture for it after I finished it last night too because.... of reasons.

.L