SAGAN CHRONICLES: ARTISTS & CRITICS WANTED!!

[keitherwild6]

This thread was originally in the manga general thread. Since I have no idea how to delete or merge it can a kind moderator please do so?

anyway here's how the thread started. I have also posted 2 of the 'chapters' of the script.

So you like manga a lot? What? You love manga a lot? Ok.
So you like manga so much that you started thinking to make your own.
Okay sure, exept making manga is hard work. People do this for a living. So how does somebody who love manga a lot and wants to start his own go about the business of making a series?

You start a group dedicated to the idea.

I need your help, of course everybody has their own ideas of the manga they want to do. This is not some half baked idea i'd be dropping all of sudden, I intend to make it a labor of love, so if you want to make manga but would rather help than create the whole plot yourself here's yor chance.

If you think this is waste of time then GOOD, I only want really interested people contacting me anyways.

The outline:

The Sagan Chronicles would be besed on the short stories I've been using as a DM (dungeon master) while playing my own version of Dungeon and Dragons (D&D) It is a fusion of futuristic and medieval themes.

This would be a very long series if I do somehow get it rolling.

So what category does it falls in? Although it can fall in a lot of categories I would rather define it as: SCIFI, Fantasy.

I will be drawing rough drafts of the pages of the manga then send it to the artists who want a shot at it. I will post a rough draft of the doujin soon.
Keep you guys posted!
_________________
Listen and be heard.

[keitherwild6]

Prelude
Plains of Sicily, 147 A.D.

The island of Sicily had been a place of many wars; its very earth is littered with so many graves that the discovery of a battle’s remains is considered a normal occurrence by the local populace. For this same reason the natives did not find it uncommon to see an army march through there tiny village, they did not even find it troubling that the army has started marching through since yesterday evening and that the end of the army’s line was no where in sight in the nearing dawn.

The sun had barely risen when the two armies formed and prepared for battle in the plains of Floridia. Ranks upon ranks of hoplites; men armed with spears, swords and shields made up the better part of the army of Syracuse while javelineers consisted the latter. Horns trumpeted as the officers straightened the battle line while the horses steadily disturbed the dirt covering the entire army in a haze of dust.

Across the Greek army a vast collection of Carthaginian soldiers stretched along the horizon. Its battle front is made up by light infantry supported by lines of slingers while in the flanks stood huge beasts manned by archers. While these pachyderms would no doubt deal considerable harm to its enemy, its handlers are weary, for these tusked behemoths may run amok and trample friends as well.

All eyes however are drawn to the center, where the crimson capes and red banners covered the legionnaires, pride of the Roman Empire.

And it is to the center where Acestus, favored general of Dionysius, devised his strategy. He considered the Carthaginian army, and then dismissed it, knowing full well that though there equipment was superior; their training did not even come close to that of his entire army. That collection of rabble would likely break by the first volley of his fine archers, it is the Roman contingent that draws his concern.

The Romans has taken his nations lands over the years, and if that was not enough, they had the audacity of imitating his people’s culture and calling it there own! Even Hades would have been more respectful!

Taking one last look at his army’s formation he nodded to his lieutenant to man the advance.

“Make sure the archers move with the hoplites and keep the Spartans out of sight.”

The lieutenant’s aged face nodded and galloped away. “Yes strategos.”

There was no silence before the inevitable clash, just the steady sound of feet and clatter of armor before the thunderous chorus of men shouting battle cries and curses.

The hoplites, a nest of spears which no soldier veteran or not would readily charge into, marched steadily into the opposing army, archers never far behind loosing a volley of arrows before catching up to its mobile wall.

The cries of the wounded and dying filled the plains. Men who did not even had the chance to clash swords with the enemy lie dying or dead while the men beside them tried to remove an arrow from one limb or another. Green grass turned red and eventually mud gathered on the ground caused by the blood and sweat of men, and the tears the heavens timidly shed.

When the Romans finally caught up with the Greeks their numbers have dwindled to nearly half never mind that their own archers and slinger inflicted casualties of their own.

The legionnaires taking down their shields from the tetsudo formation they are famed for, readied their javelins to soften the enemy before the charge.

The Romans attacked the phalanxes on all sided trying to disrupt its formation. Grabbing the long spears and stabbing when the opportunity arise the Romans steadily cut through the enemy army.

When the main battle line was broken Acestus ordered his infantry to fall back causing his formation to resemble a V and while the elephants made short work of his army’s flanks he led the cavalry to charge the hated Romans in the middle intending to cut the legionnaires from their main force.

The Roman contingent rallied the remaining Carthaginian soldiers to reform the battle line seeing the trap that was ready to consume them. As the Roman army fell back the Spartans stabbed at its flanks charging from the ditch they had dug and hidden in before the battle.

Acestus near victory momentarily returned from the bloodlust and ordered his officers to reform the cavalry for the final charge.

Over the trees far beyond the battle the ground, unseen by the sentries posted by both armies, the sleek black form of a raven watched. If a sentry did notice this bird, perhaps he’ll wonder how it came to be there when its kind was not normally found on the island; perhaps he’ll wonder why instead of the black beady eyes the fowl was known for, what stared back was silver and protruded. Perhaps he’ll wonder why every once in a while a red light would blink through those silver eyes. And perhaps the fortunate sentry or in this case unfortunate sentry would lie lifeless beneath the shadows of the trees with a gaping hole burned through his chest like the many sentries that already littered the ground.

The raven’s eyes turned red once again. Unmoving it scanned the battle.

TRIANGULATING COORDINATES…
RECEIVING COORDINATES…
COORDINATES TRANSFERRED:

4#��᨝ࣄ��ṫljĂʷ”4⌡5訔⮈Ƽᛜ$5♠

STANDBY FOR COUNTDOWN….

INTIALIZING DGAI…

CHARGING…

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…


The burly lieutenant came panting bloodied sword at hand.

“Strategos! The Roman plague routs!”

Acestus saw the carnage he had caused the enemy and was pleased. He pulled his blade free from a legionnaire’s guts and wiped it on the dead man’s cape.

“Start the hunt, capture Casius at all cost, alive!”

Suddenly a pillar of bluish light cleaved through the dark clouds and the noise faded away and abruptly stopped as both armies stood dumbfounded staring at the spectacle. Then there was a sound that ripped through the plains, like the sound of a smith’s hammer on iron increased a thousand fold. The resulting shockwave slammed the armies on the ground.

When Acestus came to, he opened his eyes slowly. What greeted him were not the fires of hell that he was so sure he would go to. What he saw were three moons amidst a blue and wondrous sky.
_________________
Listen and be heard.

[keitherwild6]

Chapter 1
Escape
York station, Saturn 241403 A.S.

Although she was seated in the corner of the room away from the thirty-two seat table full of relatives she has never heard of nor cared for, she felt amidst the artificial storm that seemed appropriately chosen by the random weather generator of York station. Pulled from the boring routine that was her life she never thought that she will regret the joy of being torn from the seamless classes that went on and on. From the rigors of academic study, annoying music practice, to the methods and ridiculous arts of charm, she hated it all. She couldn’t remember a time where she had a say in her life. She can only whisper the dreams that were in her heart. Now it seems her fate will be sealed.

A gaudy dressed man, plump and round his belly was exaggeratingly emphasizing his words with the waving of his short, fat arms. “I tell you aunt Selma, Daryl Roberts is the perfect match! Think! Her family owns nearly eighty-percent of SMC (Saturn Mining Corporation)! I checked the stocks this morning! It’s unbelievable! They practically own two of Saturn’s moons!”

The tall woman next to him merely huffed. If it wasn’t for her near perfect figure stunningly blue eyes and angelic face, the gesture would have been distasteful. “I told you, every mining corporate has been contracted by Govcentral to supply the expansion effort. They are wealthy but there is clearly no advantage whatsoever since all production for the next century belong exclusively to Govcentral. Credits don’t buy everything nowadays cousin.” She smoothed the folds of her blue suite, and arranged the short skirt that seemed inappropriate for her age. “All the suggestion so far is well and good but I am still her mother and I know what’s best for my…”

“Now don’t get all excited dear.” A head shorter than the woman, the man was well built and obviously of French-ethnic origin. Even the drawl of his voice hinted on the strong accent of his preferred language. “This is a family council after all. Everybody has a say in the matter, else why bother dragging everyone to Sol?”

“Indeed. I think your husband has a point. This very well would affect every asset this family has managed to…” The elderly woman paused for a moment, seemingly realizing that something was a miss. “Where is Lalaine? Where is you’re daughter?”

A few corridors and handful of halls away, Lalaine slowly took hold of the flimsy ribbon that was tied to her blonde hair pulled it and uninterestedly studied it for a moment before dropping it carelessly on the floor. She looked at her reflection at one of the glass windows that separated the controlled atmosphere and the cold emptiness of space. She held out her hand and gingerly touched the surface of the glass.

Cold. Like everything else in my life. She thought.

There was some heavy breathing and an undignified yelp followed by a warm and wet tongue across her leg. “Ruff!”

“Howard! How did you get here? Oh!” Lalaine hugged the brown ball of fur that was her dog, cherishing the warmth the little thing provided her. “Oh! Stop licking my face!” She couldn’t help but giggle.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man standing as if in attention. Attired in a black suit his face was a mismatch. His head was shaved balled, a curios tattoo lay flat across his face and big rings adorned his ear. Lalaine giggled again.

It was his bodyguard Seine.

Has sadness left you mistress? A voice in her said.

Seine, is a members of the Far’see, a faction known for there abstinence of anything higher than level two technologies. Lalaine often wondered how they lived as they did without even the benefit of a steam engine. Their race however developed abilities that were far removed from a normal evolutionary scale, virtually a new species of sapiens. Across the stars and with the grace of time and genetic manipulation from within and without the race of man grew ever apart. Seine is among the discontent of his race, unlike his peers he was ever eager for everything that technology had to offer. Reluctant to hire someone who hasn’t even received a basic neural enhancement companies spurned Seine. Off world and unemployed he turned mercenary. Her grandfather bought his contract long before Lalaine was born; given access to the data links Seine gobbled up every bit of data he came across with a vengeance.

He and Howard were literally her only friends. Except maybe for her grandfather, but since he's almost never there he doesn't really count.

“No. But I feel a lot better. Thank you Seine.”

I am glad mistress. Would you like me to escort you back mistress?

Lalaine didn’t bother to consider. “And watch them decide what’s left of my life?”

The mistress is very young.

“Huh? Grandpapa promised me he’ll take me away on my birthday! That’s two weeks from now! I’ll finally get a life! They want me married on Rainer’s day! That’s a forth night from today!” Tears welled up in her eyes, yet she stubbornly refused to let them fall. “It’s not fair!”

Then perhaps the mistress would like to see her visitor now?

“Visitor? Oh no! Another one of the agencies probably clamoring for a speech.”

The mistress is ever popular.

With her fists on her hips Lalaine mustered a glare.

I see that the mistress is happy.

“No you idiot! I’m not happy I’m mad!”

But the mistress is smiling.

Another distinct trait of the Far’see was there lack of expression. Every member of his race wore the same blank stare. Lalaine refuses to acknowledge this, reasoning that twenty years off world would have him cured by now. However, she has her suspicions that the odd glint that appeared on his eyes once in a while was an expression of laughter.

Seine had that glint in his eyes right now.

Lalaine rolled her eyes, and gave Seine an irritated look. “Whatever Seine. So whose is it this time? The English society? The Charity Commision?”

Right this way Mistress.

“It isn’t the Riding Club is it? I hate those old geezers!”

They entered the elevator where Seine datavised the service program designating their destination. As the elevator descended (or ascended, one can’t usually tell in a space station) floors with people going about there business zipped pass Lalaine’s view, while she stood there holding Howard close to her breast. There was knit on her brow, the kind she has when she is trying to figure a puzzle.

“Who is my visitor?”

I believe it’s the SLI (Space Liner Industries) mistress.

“The BUS company?” Lalaine said incredulously. “What in Sol would they want with me?”

I believe we are here mistress.

They arrived in the departure section of the hangars of York Station where they approached a small Sting class scout ship. Although ships in Sol usually have a bulky no non-sense design, the scout ship was splattered pink, the hull smooth and shiny, and Lalaine had no trouble spotting several parts that was obviously had no other functionality but to make it look... cool.

Now what was up with that? Must be a setting for a commercial or something she thought.

The pink doors opened with a satisfying SHINK! What greeted Lalaine wasn’t a stuff shirt agent nor was it high-pitched woman who looked eighteen but was probably over fifty; what greeted her was a flat monitor in the ceiling suspended by a robotic arm. The monitor blinked once then an old man with a soft smile greeted her.

“Grandpapa!” Lalaine cried with joy. She was staring at the monitor with unabashed joy when she realized she was about to hug a MONITOR!

The joy turned to a tantrum as Lalaine started stomping on the plush oriental carpet that covered the floor. “WHERE ARE YOU?” Lalaine shouted on the top of her lungs.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me sweetheart! My birthday is in two weeks! Where are you? If you aren’t in Sol yet… It’ll take you months to get here if you haven’t left yet!”

The old man visibly swallowed. He took his glasses of and wiped the smudge that only he could see.

“Well uh… Do you like you’re birthday present?”

“What?”

“The ship!”

“The ship…” Realization slowly crept into Lalaine’s inflamed demeanor. “The SHIP? You mean you sent it to come and get me?”

“Yes… well…”

“Oh! Gradpapa! You’re the greatest!”

Lalaine paused and casually placed her index finger on her lower lip suddenly in thought. “That’s not even you Grandpapa! That’s a memory construct!”

Communication between far flung colonies was as much as a nightmare as it was in 16th century Earth. Message packet takes months even years. Although several ships relaying a signal increase the pace, the time it takes for it to arrive is still significantly prohibitive. A memory construct is a partial copy of a person's persona. It is a program given certain functions and responses making it the norm in long distance communication in space.

"I'm afraid so my dear. I am in..."

Just then a beep signaling an incoming call stopped the old man short.

"Lalaine! What are you doing there? Come back here this intant!" Said her mother's voice.

“Computer vocal commands activation only!” Lalaine daren’t risk linking via neural interface. Any ship while in the hangar can be overridden by York security. I

“VOCAL COMMANDS ONLY: ACTIVATED” The computer faithfully replied.

"Lalaine? Gawd! Valerian! Your daughter is running away!"

“Set a course to point of origin! When clear proceed to jump on level nine!” Lalaine jumped into the pilot’s seat, while Seine took the one beside her.

“COMMAND ON QUEUE. STANDBY.”

"Laine! That's not where I am! Set a course to..." The old man tried to tell Lalaine but she was already strapping her harness to brace for the jump.

"Lalaine Marie O'Daren! You tell that computer to abort or so help me I..." Lalaine father tried to say at the same time.

"What Grandpapa? You're not? Where are you?"

"WARNING YORK SECURITY HAS INITIATED OVERIDE PROTOCOLS!" The computer warned.

Lalaine's face fushed red in anger. "Computer initiate jump NOW!"

"SHIP IS NOT CLEARED FOR JUMP."

"Overide systems perimeters jump NOW!"

"You're gonna get yourself killed! Not to mention wreck the hangar doors!" His father exclaimed.

"JUMPING IN..." The computer churtled.

Lalaine was scrambling over the dashboard, trying to reset the course while outside several pilots swerved away quickly seeing the light blue exaust that was starting to build up in the pink ship's thrusters.

"5."

"Grandpapa I'll just jump again, I don't have enough time! They'll have me married tommorow for sure!"

"4."

"But Laine..." The old man tried to explain.

"3."

"Now daughter no need for all this if you don't want to marry Daryl that's fine..." Lalaine's heart stopped short. "You can marry Jonathan instead! His even richer than Daryl and only forty-two years old!" Lalaine managed to stop herself from shouting the cancel command. She settled back to her seat and tightened the jump harness.

"2."

"Goodbye mother."

"1."

"Lalaine!" The three adults shouted.

"JUMPING!"

Lalaine sighed and clutched Howard tighter as the stars collided with her in a rush, then there was oblivion.
_________________
Listen and be heard.

[Haven9270]

Interesting....

In case you didn't know,
there's currently a manga project forum here in anime source.

In it, I'm currently making a short manga.
Although the progress seems slow (I do have a life you know)
It's showing progress....
PLUS I do have determination to finish it.
Yeah maybe I did mention sometime ago that I was gonna release the first five pages (which are already done not long ago), but I thought "why not just release it when it's completed?" (being hasty sure made me stupid).

Still.... there are times when I get bored with what I'm doing.
Working on the story and art without the right frame of mind equals sloppy job.
But taking a rest also means consuming time.

SO

Maybe I could lend you a hand

I draw
AND write

Sure I had some failures in the past (lots of paper wasted too)
but you sound determined.

Speaking of failures, if you really want to do this, I suggest there be strict deadlines.

PS: you may wanna ask the A-S source staff about it too.
You know.... I make some contributions to you any way I can
While I still work on my project.
My point is..... I just feel lonely working by myself
_________________
"please let me work"

- Osamu Tezuka

[Guest]

Hey there!

That's great? Where is this thread? Er don't worry I'll take a 'look 'see.
Then perhaps you'll help me out then! Actually this 'thing' has been brewing a long time, its just now I've put it to paper. I'm working on the plot outline and main character description. And then after I put up the first rough draft of the manga I'll take a wack on the schedule. It will probably be done next week. ( I hope )

If you would kindly inform other people you think would be an asset to this project please inform me. I have plans for this piece, and like other plans big or small you have to start on the begining.

Dhevhan Keith

[dasthegreen]

well i suppose if you wanted i could edit your manga's. looking over them and making revisons and stuff. i mean im also a good writer and fairly decent drawer if that helps you out. well lemme know it would be fun to become a part of some manga.

[the_underdog]

seems pretty good so far. One question though: how old is Lalaine? She seems kinda childish now, so I keep picturing her as a little girl.
BTW Im still willing to help out

Haven9270- what would one have to do to become a member of the manga project?

[Haven9270]

To tell you the truth, not so long ago the project manga team has lots of members.

But later, for a variety of reasons, they soon disappeared one by one.
The project was almost terminated by the dissapointed Anime-Source members.

But, I decided to work on something myself. My own art and story.
It's tough working alone and it's not strange that the progress was very slow.
But I do make updates as much as I could.

Luckily another member decided to help me out on the editing and I'm currently waiting for his contributions.

So point is.... I myself am looking for some help.

Why do I want to help with keitherwild6's project then?
There's something I've been lacking lately
That is.... at least a bit of motivation.
And I think helping others with a similar goal can help me achieve my own goal.

Let's work together^^

BTW

To be a member of the project manga team, you need to....
> be able to meet deadlines (strict deadlines this time)
> be able to do your assigned work
> be open minded
> be creative..... very creative
> and anything else I didn't mention that would be necessary

But before that....
I'd like to request a little favor to the A-S staff to delete the threads in the Project Manga forum that are no longer used probably with the permission of those who made them.
_________________
"please let me work"

- Osamu Tezuka

[dasthegreen]

well haven9270 it looks like you have the support and help of me and the_underdog at your service.

the_underdog - whats up man usually dont see you postin here, i know kevinn does but soaringair doesnt ever

[Haven9270]

Again, if you guys really want to do Sagan Chronicles, I leave it to you to convince the A-S staff if they'll allow it or wait for the current project to be finished (thus maybe giving you your own separate forum).

I'll be waiting^^
_________________
"please let me work"

- Osamu Tezuka

[jimmeh]

Im up for been a critic you have my support

[the_underdog]

[Haven9270]

If you want to join the project manga team
I think you have to ask the anime-source staff (more likely mr. Angel King) to grant you access to the private forum.

Your project will be separate from mine.
But I'll appreciate if you would help me with what I'm doing in any way.

Yeah I'll help with the SAGAN CHRONICLES
Don't worry....

(damn these family trips.... I haven't got the time to finish the second part of MY project!!!)

So.... yeah....
You manage your project first so that you could convince the A-S staff that you're worthy (in other words "serious enough") to gain access in the private forum.

I'll meet you there (create a topic there maybe?).
_________________
"please let me work"

- Osamu Tezuka

[dasthegreen]

o so to help i must contact angel king...

[keitherwild6]

Hey Haven9270 and everyone!

Thanks for posting and for the very positive reactions/comments on this thread!

I'd be very happy to help you Haven9270!

As I said I intend this to be a work of love. I have nearly 3 months worth of time I can dedicate to Sagan Chronicles and that of your manga Haven9270, I suggest we pick up the pace and start ASAP. Since I might be gone a very long time after that. Though that may seem contrary to my statement that I won't just drop this when I felt like it, it is not. As Haven9270 quite put it we do have a life to run too. Having said that I would like to point out that given the choice (and oppurtunity) I'd rather much do this for a living, but since the opportunity hasn't presented itself just yet, I must settle to contibuting all the time I can spare while running my life.

Summary? Have the time for 3 months, got to go for a long time after but rather much do it for a living.
_________________
Listen and be heard.