Halftone #3 by Mauritian Mangakas & Comic Artists

Message from Editing Team Third one! Hat trick! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our dear readers, we have yet managed to publish another issue of our Halftone fanzine! I kid you not, the struggles are real with this, but our passion and the kind words we have received for our previous work keep us going. And we are not close to stopping. Speaking of passion, “practice makes perfect”. I’m sure a lot of you have heard of this idiom so many times now, but I would also like to add a couple more phrases to this: “perseverance makes You” and “practice makes progress”. Of course you’re not going to be born with magical skills and turn everything you touch to gold, and most of us are probably never going to come close to perfection either. I mean, what even is perfection? Everybody’s idea of perfection is going to be different, and it is a mathematical impossibility to please everyone! But what you can do, is keep moving forward, keep progressing. You can only do that if you keep practicing your craft. You need to keep at it to develop your own style, to create your own world. Many of us might have to give up drawing or take a pause in their adventure due to studies, work, family or other personal matters. And that is OKAY. Life has this way of throwing curve balls at us when we expect it the least. But please, persevere! Do it in a right and efficient way. Try to be as consistent as possible when you can. And there is hello to be found out there, on the internet, which is a whole world of its own. You will find a lot of online courses or even free tutorials on different social platforms where you can learn and improve your skills. Build up your portfolio, participate in international contests, exchange with other artists, and eventually, you will get the results you’ve been wishing for all this time. On this note, dear readers, please enjoy the collection of artworks and comics from local artists we have prepared for you. Happy reading!

Table of Contents

3 Interview Section 3 In the know about...Laval Ng 9 Gallery Section 19 Comics & Manga Section 20 RED SWORD 35 Lucky Warrior 54 My Goth Boyfriend! 61 Sortilège 72 We’re just friends 82 Psyche 94 Pieter Both Village - Level 1: First Encounter 102 Work Comes First(?

Disclaimer: All works found in this magazine belong to the respective owners. You are not allowed to copy, reproduce, distribute, publish, display, modify, create derivative works, transmit, or in any way exploit any content, nor may you distribute any part of this content over any network, including a local area network, sell or offer it for sale, or use such content to construct any kind of database, without the respective owners’ consent and written permission.

Interview Section

In the know about...

Laval Ng In the know about... Laval Ng

Laval Ng est un peu un monument dans les cercles artistiques à Maurice, mais ça reste toujours intéressant de découvrir le portrait d’un artiste à travers ses yeux. Peux-tu nous faire une petite présentation de toi? Quelle est ton “origin story”? Monument? sérieusement, non. L’intérêt pour le dessin a commencé grâce à une série tv sur la vie de Léonard de Vinci. J’avais 13 ans et tout ce qui m’interessait depuis cet instant était de découvrir le monde à travers le dessin. J’ai commencé à faire des petites bd parce que mes amis de classe en faisaient aussi. Beaucoup de dessins de super héros Marvel. Après le secondaire j’ai trouvé du travail comme animateur et storyboarder dans un studio de dessin animé qui venait tout juste d’ouvrir à maurice. J’ai dessiné des dodos pendant 1 an et demi et ensuite je suis parti aux Etats Unis pour faire un BFA en computer arts, modélisation et animation 3d. Je faisais toujours des planches de bd à côté, beaucoup d’histoires courtes et souvent pas terminées. De retour à Maurice, j’ai participé à un un stage de bd à l’Alliance Française animé par Emmanuel Lepage. Ce dernier m’a beaucoup encouragé à essayer de me faire publier en France. Ma carrière fut lancée par Makyo qui m’a proposé de reprendre le 4ème cycle de sa série “La Balade au Bout du Monde” aux éditions Glénat.

Quel est ton processus de création? Comment passes-tu d’une idée dans ta tête à un vrai concept ou une histoire prête à publier? La documentation. Je fais souvent un travail de ”profiling”. Bien connaître la psychologie des personnages m’aident dans la représentation du langage corporel de chacun. Par exemple, dans ma bd paul et Virginie, même si Bernardin de St Pierre n’apparaît que dans 5-6 cases, j’ai pris le temps de lire un livre biographique sur lui pour bien comprendre ce que je dessinais plutôt que faire un dessin base uniquement sur la ressemblance graphique. Mais en fait mon processus de travail est simple: je travaille toujours, tout le temps sur plein de de concepts, tout m’intéresse. Je note, je remplis des sketchbook et beaucoup de feuilles volantes avec des idées de dessins. Du fait, même quand j’ai un travail de commande, je retrouve souvent un sujet sur lequel j’ai déjà commencé à travailler. Mon prochain album, Furioso, qui est scénarisé par Philippe Pelaez est une idée qui me trottait dans la tête depuis des années et c’est très réjouissant de faire la bonne rencontre qui va donner corps à ce qui n’était qu’un brouillon ou plusieurs brouillons au départ. Maintenant, faire mûrir une histoire jusqu’à être publiable reste une route mystérieuse pour moi. J’ai beaucoup de mal à terminer ce que je commence, mon efficacité repose dans ma relation avec les gens avec qui je travaille.

Comment s’inscrit le rôle de l’artiste dans la société mauricienne aujourd’hui, selon toi? Comment as-tu perçu l’évolution de ce rôle dans les 5 dernières années? Le tiktokeur est un artiste, le pâtissier est un artiste, le chanteur de karaoké est un artiste, le peintre, le plasticien est un artiste… tout le monde est un artiste, sauf le dessinateur de bd ou l’illustrateur. Le rôle de l’artiste est dévoyé à Maurice. La société mauricienne est trop intéressée dans le mirage de la réussite ou de la renommée. Pourtant, l’illustrateur a tant à donner dans cette société ou la communication visuelle est un élément essentiel de notre vie quotidienne. Durant ces 5 dernières années, j’ai vu l’apparition de beaucoup de jeunes illustrateurs avec des styles très variés et créatifs et contemporains sur le net, mais leur travaux restent très peu utilisés dans les médias de communications de nos vénérables institutions, ce qui est dommage.

La perception de ce qu’est un professionnel à Maurice reste extrêmement traditionnel. Comment la société mauricienne pourrait-elle encourager plus de jeunes à vivre leur passion d’artiste et à s’appeler des artistes professionnels? Tout repose sur l’éducation de l’art, son évolution, son rôle. Après, c’est normal que l’artiste sorte de la perception de ce qu'est un professionnel. La liberté de penser fait peur. Le respect du travail d’un artiste doit être impérativement accompagné d’une rémunération digne, il faut le dire tout simplement. Pour répondre à la deuxième question, je demande aux jeunes d’inonder l’espace public de leurs travaux. Dire que vous existez c’est le premier pas.

Quel conseil donnerais-tu au jeune Laval si tu le pouvais? De ne pas hésiter à présenter ses propres histoires. Faire plus d’illustrations et croire dans son univers… j’arrive pas à donner des conseils, j’ai trop de griefs envers le jeune Laval, je vais en rester là.

FURIOSO

Tome 1: Garalt est revenu

Scénario: Philippe Pelez | Dessin: Laval Ng | Couleur: Tanja Wenisch Éditions Drakoo

8 Sortie 6 avril 2022

Gallery Section 9

Name: Little Shooting Star

Glad to have the opportunity to participate in Halftone!! Never stop dreaming & doing what makes you happy!!

Profession: Science Student

Littleshootingstar21

tsukidragneel

marmeladragon

ashnscar21

romain_houbert

Comics & Manga Section

RED SWORD

Helena Seryma Sxperimental

“I was never a hero, I am a thief...”

he two-meter-tall demon sped towards Atalion at an unfathomable pace, too quick for his eyes to follow. It was right in front of him in seconds. His heart pulsed in his ears. He took a step back, raised his hand, and tossed the rock he was holding. It merely grazed the monster. It roared and peeled its crimson lips flashing sharp fangs. The sound sent shivers down the young man’s spine. “Run!” yelled the knight, his voice hoarse. Atalion couldn’t afford to look away from the beast. When it leaped, he swerved, but not quickly enough. The demon’s claws sliced his arm and shoulder, sending him crashing into a fruit stand. He was disoriented for a split second. As he struggled to get back up, his shoulder screamed with pain. A broken pole, which used to hold the fruit stand, poked through a tangle of shredded tent fabrics and crushed fruits next to him. The demon roared as it met his gaze, Atalion struggled on all fours and gripped the pole, spinning it. Atalion yelled over the crushing sound of the attack as the beast leaped. The wood creaked beneath the weight of the demon, blood gushed out of the wound where it pierced the shoulder of the monster, its jaws and teeth snapped perilously close to his neck. His hands were drenched in a warm liquid. With a sinister chuckle, the monster raised its claws, ready to slice the young guy into ribbons. “Pathetic creature,” said the demon. The young man’s eyes watered as he inhaled a blast of stench. Atalion felt a wave of regret rush over him. His mother’s gentle face as she walked away, as well as his two younger sisters, Elina, and Torsha. And Sharsa, in his shining white uniform, floated before his eyes. With a tight smile, he realized that he was just a thief after all. What you took from others, you inflicted a thousand times worse for yourself. Sharsa’s words rang in his ears. He knew it would happen one day. He had envisioned himself in a filthy prison cell. But being ripped to shreds by a demon was never in his plans.

He took a deep breath and braced himself for the pain as the claws got closer. However, instead a red sword burst through the demon’s chest. It shuddered. Atalion blinked in response to the unforeseen turn of events. With a cry that shook the young man to the bones, the demon vanished in a cloud of black smoke, leaving three red gemstones strewn about the battleground. The knight stood there, looking Atalion down with his massive sword. The young man gasped for breath. “W-what the hell was that?” he asked, stunned. The knight staggered and fell under the strain of the battle. His armor was drenched in blood. Atalion was amazed that he could still wield his mighty sword to slay the beast. Then his gaze returned to the stones scattered about in the dirt. He had no idea that slaughtering demons could lead to such riches. He groaned as he rolled over onto his side and slid into a sitting position. The Red Swords were dangerous. There were folktales about them. They were as equally feared as the demons. The crimson jewels glistened and his gaze away from the knight. Atalion stretched out to take one. “Don’t! The knight rasped, “Don’t touch it!” His eyes were a brilliant red, just like the gemstones. Atalion’s fingers hovered above the beautiful stones. His thieving instincts told him to just pocket them. They were probably worth a lot of gold. His brother and sisters would have enough to eat and he could repay back what he owed the Baron. They could even leave this damn city, move somewhere with sunshine and fresh air. Its allure drew him in like a lover’s enticing whisper. The power inside them pulsed to an ache. “You’ll be cursed if you pick it up,” the knight coughed. Blood leaked from his bruised lips. His shaking hand held the shredded armor, his breath wheezed. Atalion shifted his gaze away from the cursed stones and stumbled closer to the injured knight. The young man knelt, and grimaced against the pain. “Are you all right?” The knight cast an odd red glare over him before clutching a handful of his shirt. “Why did you come to my aid? You could have died. Are you trying to be a hero?” Atalion shrugged, his lips twisted in a tight smile. Then he remembered his injury, he groaned, and he grasped his arm. The young man just hoped he didn’t need stitches. He couldn’t afford it. “I’m hardly a hero.” The knight was taken over by tremors, and he was forced to release the young thief. “Hey? What’s going on?” exclaimed Atalion, concerned. “How can I help?” He studied his surroundings and realized the knight’s big sword had skittered across the ground. When the knight said something under his breath, his attention was drawn back. “What?” he asked as he drew closer, his shoulder gash visible through the broken metal of his armor. The knight’s blood pooled around his knees. His eyes widened. The knight was dying of blood loss. 25

“T-take my gloves; they’re charmed against evil powers. Retrieve the gems and my sword,” said the knight. Atalion stood up to leave, but the knight grabbed his good hand and held him back. The exertion made his breath hiss. When someone is stabbed in the lungs, it makes a wet sound that Atalion was all too familiar with. “Before you touch the sword, ask its permission.” Atalion scowled but didn’t linger to inquire about the odd request. The knight withdrew, exhausted. His eyelids drifted shut, and his breathing became irregular. He slipped on the stained gloves, cast a final glance over his shoulder at the knight, and returned to the task. It was simple to collect the jewels. He slipped them into the pouch where he kept his money. After that, he marched to the sword. He took a breath and considered the weapon’s massive size. In the dim streetlight, the blade gleamed. The demon’s blood was already dry and flaking away in the breeze. He knelt and laughed a little at the ridiculousness of the situation. He was supposed to get permission first, according to the knight. If demons could turn into gemstones, then swords may likewise require permission before being touched. “Great sword, may I pick you up?” he inquired, half-joking. The blade’s fiery inscriptions flashed, and the ruby encrusted hilt pulsed. The weapon emitted a low hum. “You may,” said a low rumbling voice. Atalion was stunned and fell back on his butts. “Hurry, my knight is in grave danger. Please return it to me. Place me on the armor’s back.” Atalion took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. He blinked once or twice. “Hurry!” barked the sword. He took the hilt between his hands and hauled it up. His lips ripped open with a scream. He didn’t expect the weapon to be as heavy as it was. Even though his wound was burning, he dragged the enormous sword across the ground to the knight. He yanked on it using his legs. As sweat trickled from his brow, he murmured, “How can the knight fight with this thing?” With a thunderous voice, the blade snapped, “Stop babbling, hurry.” To position the weapon as ordered, Atalion had to roll the unconscious knight onto his side. As the blade clicked in place, a crimson circle lit up and incantations emerged around it. Then a startling light flashed, Atalion covered his eyes with his good hand. Voices cried from afar, “It’s here! I’ve heard screams and noises.” Torches lit the walls of a narrow street, and heavy footfall rushed towards Atalion. Angry royal guards and civilians converged on the location where he and the knights were. His gaze returned to the unconscious man. The sword’s glow has faded.

He shook the man and said, “They’re going to arrest us if we don’t get out of here. I’m not sure about you. But I’m a thief and don’t want to spend the night in prison.” The knight groaned, he was too weak to respond. “Atalion, help us,” the sword murmured as trembling fingers grabbed for him. Atalion was struck by the silent plea dancing in the eyes of the wounded knight. He thought bitterly, I’ll probably regret this. The young man hauled up the knight with a hand around his shoulder. Behind clenched teeth, he stifled a scream. They were swallowed by the darkness between two stands, leaving bloody trails in the dirt. The tremendous weight of the injured Red Sword made Atalion groan. What should they do now? He was unsure. However, as they walked slowly, their shoes echoing on the cobblestones, the sounds of a growing crowd approached. He flashed a frantic look over his shoulder. A panic seized him. “We’re not going to make it,” he admitted. He was also unsure whether he could carry a Red Sword into his home with his younger brother and sisters. He had to consider their well-being. He took a breather and pondered his dilemma in the shadow of a narrow street. They were hidden from view by an overhanging roof from the windows of a seedy apartment. The corner reeked of filth and urine. The sound of their pursuit had died away, but he wasn’t sure they were gone. In the dim light, he squinted his eyes, surveying movement in the adjutant streets leading to the marketplace. He took a sharp breath and pulled himself away from the wall. Instead of heading north to his residence, he took a detour to the south, towards the river. Nazer’s hunt was situated near the bank’s slope, sandwiched between two warehouses. Prostitutes dispersed when they saw them. Other patrons hurried to the shadows, making the Lady Amortis sign to ward off evil. As a group of sailors hushed from their lively card games to look across at them, Atalion hurried away from the main road. He didn’t want to run into the Baron’s men at this time. The presence of a Red Sword, on the other hand, kept trouble at bay. Nobody wanted to deal with a Lady Amortis disciple. It was certain to meet an early death or worse, getting cursed. They came to a halt in front of Nazer’s hut, a run-down, stinky, crooked shack. Rusty nails held the boards in place, allowing the draft to enter. When the knight groaned in anguish, Atalion let go of him and whispered a quick ‘sorry.’ He inserted his finger into one of the overlaying boards, knowing the burglar stored his spare keys there. The nails and jagged wound dug into his palm, but he smiled as he grabbed the cold metal key. Nazer probably wouldn’t mind if Atalion and a bleeding Red Sword spend the night since he was napping in one of the city guards’ prisons. He pushed the door with a loud creak. The heavy smell of rotten fish and dust hit him square in the face. Atalion slammed the door shut and grimaced at the bloody imprint his hand left on it.

The young man fumbled with the helmet’s back, his hand shaky and slick from the grime and blood. It had dents and scrapes on it, as if the knight had worn it for a long period. When he leaned over the knight, his breath puffed from the strain. He heard a distinct click and the helmet came loose after much wrestling. He almost fell back while grasping the dirty helmet. But the sight he glimpsed under the metal mask was not what he had been expecting. Long silky white hair fell around the knight’s shoulders and a smooth face carved in marble. All this time Atalion assumed the knight was male…

Her razor-sharp fangs ripped into his neck, sending liquid fire through his veins. In his sad life, Atalion had never known such pain. His thoughts slid into a world of dread and despair, where all light had perished and only darkness reigned. Mighty forces shredded his will to smithereens, shattered what he held dear, and when he was exposed to the dreadful red eyes peering overhead like omniscient moons, he could do nothing to protect himself. The eyes pressed into his broken psyche, demanding his submission. “Little one, surrender to me. Let me lead you to my kingdom of shadows,” it said solemnly. Atalion hung in the dark embrace of the entity looking down at him. Flashes and splintered memories from his life raced before his eyes. He didn’t have any riches. He was insignificant. His sole sorrow was the loss of his siblings. The darkness wrapped its fingers around his shoulders and drew him in like a lover. It mumbled soothing promises of long life and safety. His eyes welled up with tears. The pressure of this powerful monster caused Atalion’s mind to buckle. He was sick of battling. He had been doing so for so long. Ever since his mother abandoned them. This monster knew his deepest desires and wrapped itself about him like the arms of a mother he yearned for. It was not forceful but gentle as a breeze. He was promised that he would no longer be an orphan and that he would never be hungry. Loving arms encircled him, a hushed lullaby in his ears. He’d never known kindness before. “Honor your goddess.” A sleeping beast lay in the shadows. One awaiting its prey. One traveling through a field of flames, crunching dry bones beneath its feet. A smirking beast.

“Take me,” Atalion breathed. And the darkness bared its fangs and gobbled him whole. 34

Lucky Warrior

NAME:

Matthieu Damien Felix ARTIST NAME:

MattArt HOBBIES:

I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. I keep trying different techniques and mediums to become more fulfilled and complete as an artist. I dabble into many art forms like mural painting, oil painting, crafting and many more. However, traditional drawing is still my favourite.

Drawing, skateboarding, Watching anime

My style is pretty much an anime or manga-like style. After doing fanart of the many anime I watched, I came up with my own style.

Seek Discomfort- Life begins at the end of your comfort zones

matt_d_felix Me and My Dog

My Goth Boyfriend!

NAME:

Michel Alisha Jeanna ARTIST NAME:

Lucy- Chan NightGame HOBBIES:

Drawing, painting, gaming and dancing.

Hello everyone! I’m Alisha but most people know me as Lucy. I started to draw anime in the year 2016. I got inspired by a friend who drew my favourite anime character. Since that day I kept practicing. I also learned to draw realistic things such as portraits. I want to keep improving and I hope that my drawings will also inspire people.

I was really bad at drawing anatomy then I looked for tutorials on youtube. My drawing style always changed, it wasn’t definite as I was not satisfied with how it turned out. I wanted it to be original and represent myself.

Talents do not come magically, you just need to devote yourself to things you like to do and keep practicing and improving.

Lucy Michel lucy_kig Lucy- Chan NightGame

Sortilège

I am rather shy although I like to meet new people. It makes me happy when people are happy. I love to create worlds and universes to escape to.

NAME:

Jordan Paris ARTIST NAME:

JoJo HOBBIES:

Cooking, Reading, shows and films

When I was little, “Winx Club” was my inspiration. Thanks to this, I started trying to create the same characters but as I grew up I saw that I created my own style while keeping it simple.

My inspiration is a person: my mother She always loved my drawings, so I always drew for her.

Jordanparis Paris24jordan

We’re just friends

Hi! I’m Little Bao, a digital comic artist who creates comics about asian culture. I wish to promote asian voices through my stories and hope to inspire people to be the best version of themselves. I also want to connect, laugh, and love with my characters!

NAME: ARTIST NAME:

Little Bao HOBBIES:

Writing, drawing, reading

My drawing style is very much influenced by contemporary digital media like anime and mangas, with a little twist of cuteness, as my friends like to say. I’ve always enjoyed drawing in that animated style, drawn to artists like Studio Ghibli’s Miyazaki and Kim Jung Gi, whose illustrations are a performance to be watched. I would also read comics like Betty and Veronica, Archie comics religiously, which reflect a lot of my drawing style today. I would classify it as simple and cute, straight to the point and sometimes comedic. After all, who doesn’t love a little humour?

“I can’t afford to fall behind. I’ll be going for it with everything that I have” - Midoriya Izuku, BNHA

littlebaoart

Psyche

Pieter Both Village - Level 1: First Encounter

100

101

Work Comes First(?

102

103

104

105

106

107

108

109

110

111

112

113

114

115

116

117

118

119

120

121

122

123

Enjoyed this issue and you’d like to see more? Follow us on: https://www.facebook.com/groups/MauritianMCA https://www.instagram.com/mmcartists/ https://mmcathegroup.wixsite.com/mysite

If you’ve been inspired to contribute to the next issue, get in touch with us on mauritian.mca@gmail.com or scan the QR Code here.

See you in the next one! Previous Issues...

124