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Thread: Welcome to the Internet (Oneshot - PG-13)

  1. #1
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    Exclamation Welcome to the Internet (Oneshot - PG-13)

    Author’s Notes: Yo! Hello to all! This is the first one-shot I had written in almost 3 YEARS and I got back into writing because of it!

    Oh, and this got second place in the Tragedy Contest. :P

    By the way, the views of my character DO NOT reflect my own. Rated PG-13 for some mature themes.

    Pokemon doesn’t belong to me.


    Welcome to the Internet



    BlueAipomXZ:
    Heyyyy!!! How r u???

    I was sitting in my grease-stained seat reading some generic story featuring an annoying Mary-Sue, when a little window popped up on my computer screen.

    I clicked on the inconspicuous window, feeling bored and apathetic as I usually did. It was another average day in my dull life and surfing the web was just part of my mind-numbing, monotonous day-to-day routine. However, I was too busy chugging a nice, cold beer to pay much attention to it. After I finished, I wiped my mouth and with small, watery eyes, read what my friend had written. Soon, my eyes opened wide with terror.

    It was the question again.

    How are you?

    The beer I was holding clattered to the floor, spilling amber liquid all over the discolored rug.

    No matter how many times people asked me this, the wave of self-pity and revulsion still washed over me with more intensity each and every time. I tried to calm down my frantic and agitated breathing, my three chins bobbing up and down disgustingly with each quick intake of air.

    Day in and day out, this was the one question that haunted me the most. After all, it was this more than anything else that opened my eyes to my pathetic reality.

    I picked up a framed photograph that was hidden behind a moldy, half-eaten pizza, and countless of my favorite DVDs featuring prepubescent girls doing lewd acts with men old enough to be their fathers.

    I had to hold back a howl of despair at the shameful contrast between my past and present self; the kid who smiled behind the cracked, smudged glass seemed honestly happy, healthy and completely comfortable in his own skin. I chuckled humorlessly at this, wiping my eyes with one pudgy hand. I would have never imagined that I would end up being a morbidly obese, unwashed loser who was wearing nothing more than a pair of yellow-stained boxers and living in his parent’s basement.

    I remember when it all began.

    My dream was to become a Pokemon Master, just like so many naďve aspiring people before me. I could still vividly remember my practice sessions with my friends. We would take turns giving orders to a stubborn Bulbasaur that belonged to my friend, Charlie. Of course, it never even so much as complied to do a simple tackle for us, but it was fun to pretend being Pokemon trainers and having Pokemon of our own before we would live out the real thing.

    I always imagined myself being a famous and accomplished Pokemon Master. I would’ve had a supreme team of invincible, powerful Pokemon that adored me and followed my orders without the slightest bit of hesitation. I would’ve had thrashed the Elite Four all into the ground with my shiny Lugia. The praise…the adoration…the envy of millions…all of that would’ve had been mine. Unfortunately, I had been stupid enough to exchange all that possible glory and prestige for countless hours on the computer, dating video games, and lesbian porn.

    I closed my eyes, letting the old memories I had tried to block for so long to wash over me in painful waves.

    I used to be a bright-eyed kid, full of confidence and vigor, with a steadfast determination to become the best of the best. My parents were proud; they thought I had a wonderful future ahead of me, as like my sister. She became a widely recognized trainer and literally had the world in her hands. I was confident that my future would be just as good, or even better, than my successful sister.

    “Danny, you can be anything you want to be,” my sister had said assertively, patting my head with one gloved hand. “Just put your mind to it.”

    “But sis, what if I don’t make it?” I had asked, tugging insistently on her violet dress.

    “I believe in you,” she simply said, before leaving out the door for a new adventure.

    These were her last words before she left, and I had all the intent to follow them through and not let her down. Little did my young self knew at that moment that years down the road his older self would completely sabotage all his dreams for the future due to idleness, procrastination and an all-consuming unwillingness to move forward.

    I woke up late the day I had to get my first Pokemon.

    The night before, I had stayed awake reading comic books, too excited to go to sleep. When I woke up, I knew something was wrong; I took one good look at my alarm clock before rushing, still in my pajamas, towards the professor’s lab. I had overslept for more than four hours, but I hoped against hope that the professor had an extra Pokemon for me. When I got there, the professor looked at me sadly before telling me that there were no Pokemon left and there was nothing he could do. No matter how much I pleaded, cried, and even blackmailed the professor, he wouldn’t budge on his decision.

    “I’m sorry, try again next year,” he stated somberly, pity etched on every single contour of his wrinkled face.

    His answer began the downward spiral that was my life.

    I decided to try again for the following year. My parents enrolled me in a small school to “study” about Pokemon. Most kids had no need to go to this school since the majority were already trainers by the time they hit the age of ten. There were only two kids, asides from me, who were in my same class; one was a drug junkie who would sneak out whenever possible to snort cocaine in the girls’ bathroom and the other one was a pretty girl that always wore a neat pink dress and matching frilly bow that sat atop her beautiful, curly hair. She looked like the most normal person in the group, until she described in graphic detail, and with a big smile on her face, how she had viciously stabbed her starter Squirtle in the face. Despite the fact that it wasn’t explicitly declared, everyone knew this school was for failures that would never make it into the real world.

    I hated going to this school with every last bit of my soul; I hated my psychopathic classmates, I hated my rundown classroom, but above all, I hated feeling like a complete loser. I would refuse to go for many days, despite my teacher’s feeble protests to my parents. Though I never had enough time to get on the Internet because of my prior training, I was suddenly entranced by it the more time I spent at home. At first, I just clicked on some pages of interest and left after just a couple of minutes. But as the days rolled by, I realized that those few minutes were turning into longer hours. I convinced myself that I was spending more and more time on the computer because of the large amount of information I found about Pokemon on the net. However, I could not deny it any longer when I would stay inside for weeks at the time, only to spend it all surfing the web in my yellow Pikachu-hoodie pajamas.

    I guess I was so allured by it because it proved to be a fantastic excuse to escape from my own problems. It was a safe haven where I could be anything I wanted to be, and be free of the shackles of responsibility. It proved to be so extraordinary and phenomenal that I didn’t even notice when the long-awaited day to try to get a Pokemon again came and went.

    At the beginning, my parents didn’t seem to mind or care about the increasing time I spent in front of my computer. My mother believed that as long as I was eating everything was fine in my life, and my dad merely shrugged it off as another silly phase of mine that would soon pass. They would eventually realize about my growing, terrible obsession, but my mom just piled on more food on my plate to assuage her own feelings of guilt, and my dad looked at me sadly, thinking I was a lost case.

    I knew nothing of the real world nor did I want to. I pretended that I was much happier within the dirty realm that was my dark, gloomy room; the soothing hum of my computer comforted me, my delicious bags of fattening corn chips gave me strength and my ever-reliable collection of dirty magazines helped me ease my moments of solitude. That was all I ever needed.

    Or so I thought.

    I was imprisoned in my own repulsive skin. I looked down at myself, and whispered to my body how very sorry I was that I got it into such a sad, lamentable state. My huge, prominent gut was completely covered in red stretch marks. Large amounts of filth were accumulating in my rolls of fat, because I was unable to clean myself thoroughly due to my great size. Getting out of bed every single morning was a momentous, painful, and mortifying task; I needed my mother’s help when I wanted to get up because I simply didn’t have enough strength to do it on my own.

    This is what my life had become.

    And yet…

    I replied with the same old lie.

    MasterClefairy67: Im great!!! =)

    ***

    “You have no life.”

    The first time anyone said this to me was also the first time I went outside after my life took a turn for the worse. That day, I had run out of cigarettes and booze and my parents had long since gotten bored of my leeching ways to give me any money. The sun felt harsh on my sick, pale skin, but I still determinedly trekked toward the store. However, I was soon shaking like a leaf from the exertion, even though I had barely taken a few steps out my front door.

    I turned around and recognized the woman immediately. She had been that evil classmate of mine back when I still went to those pointless Pokemon classes.

    “You have no life,” she repeated coldly.

    These words cut me deep. After I gave up my lifelong dream, I still wanted to believe that my life had some worth left to it. Of course, it was a stupid illusion; my life had been completely bereft of meaning the moment the professor told me I was too late to get a Pokemon. I had no direction to guide me, no special talent I could polish, and no goal to pursue. Those callous words hurt so much because in my heart I knew that they were undeniably true.

    “You’re gonna deny it, fatass?” she sneered, tossing her long, blonde hair casually.

    “N-no, but you see…” I stuttered for a few moments, before my mind went completely blank. I had no idea what to say; her lips were twisted into an ugly mocking smile and her piercing, green eyes were merciless. I was a nobody next to her.

    Human interaction was something I despised. I didn’t understand how exactly other people talked so casually to each other nor how they could act so freely without feeling that their every move was being closely scrutinized, and harshly criticized, by their peers. But despite my loathing, I secretly longed for close human contact. It was an impossible dream for such a socially awkward person like me, but one which I so avidly desired.

    I had no problem communicating with other people through a computer screen. As much as I hated to admit it, these anonymous, faceless people were the only friends I had. Part of me didn’t regret this fact: they made me smile, they made me laugh, and they even made me delude myself into thinking I was worthy of their kindness. But in the very back of my mind, a doubt was slowly nibbling away my fantasy world and corrupting it with reason. Though I desperately tried to convince myself about the hidden beauty of my online relationships, a dissenting voice slowly poisoned my foolish way of thinking until I had to face the harsh reality head on.

    These friendships were doomed to fail. No matter how much I tried to fool myself into believing the contrary, the truth was I would never truly know the people behind the screen names. The closer the bonds I formed with them, the harder it would be to part at the inevitable hour of separation. There was just no way to avoid this. And yet, I still continued talking to these friends despite knowing that the final farewell loomed ever closer, because they had become an inexorable, irreplaceable part of my life. I just accepted this as one of the many sad ironies that destiny placed before me.

    But what I most deeply wanted, even more than real friends, was a girlfriend. I tried to create a setting in my mind where I was in a stable, romantic relationship with a woman who was actually interested in me. I would walk hand-in-hand with her, mutually enjoying each other’s company as we talked about this and that. Maybe I would take her out to eat in one of those fancy restaurants. After dinner, I would bring her back home, and she would then thank me with a small, light kiss for the lovely evening. Of course, I would deepen the kiss, fully aware what this would lead to next. She would respond eagerly in kind, undressing and leading me into her room. Maybe under the covers, she would scream out my name…

    I laughed out loud, my humongous belly rippling alarmingly with the force of my uninhibited laughter.

    I shook my head in amusement after my hilarity subsided, though I could feel an overwhelming cloud of depression descending upon me. It was very hard to imagine myself being with someone other than the company of my dependable, sweat-soaked right hand.

    But I had to try.

    “Um…erm…you are very pretty,” I said shyly, my tongue suddenly feeling too big and heavy for my mouth. Her striking green eyes were too intimidating; I hastily lowered my gaze, pretending to be oddly interested by a pebble near my shoe.

    “Oh my god, are you actually hitting on me?” she asked derisively. “Do you honestly believe I’d have any interest dating a loser like you?”

    My chubby cheeks flushed with embarrassment and humiliation. It was useless; I didn’t know why I had bothered. I was utterly incapable of having a face-to-face talk with another human being without being overcome with a horrible desire to flee. I failed and will always fail at connecting with people on a personal level.

    I ran, or at least, that’s what I tried to do. My short, thick legs were finding it incredibly hard to sustain my humongous, portly body. Sweat poured down my chubby face and I was soon out of breath. I heard the woman’s cruel laughter behind me, but I purposefully went back home.

    Once I had closed the door behind me, I wept bitterly for a long time.

    ***

    I snapped out of my thoughtful reverie, when I noticed that my friend had written a new message. I clicked on it.

    BlueAipomXZ: Can I tell you a secret?

    I raised an eyebrow, feeling mildly curious. My friend had always been the private sort of guy who would be overly cautious of revealing even the most innocuous bits of information online. He claimed that it would make him feel uncomfortable that other people who he didn’t know all that well had access to his personal details. I never pried forcefully nor disrespected his privacy, but there was a part of me that still longed to know more about him.

    MasterClefairy67:
    sure

    The screen immediately went blank. I tapped my keyboard in frustration, when a strange being appeared; it was entirely made out of what looked like pinkish, polygonal shapes. I felt slightly intimidated when it stared at me emotionlessly with its two perfectly round eyes.

    I am Porygon. I have been studying human behavior and their link to cyberspace since my creation. Based on the information I have gathered, I can conclude that you have contributed nothing to humanity.

    “Huh?” I asked out loud. I idly wondered to myself if my friend had somehow hacked into my computer. I watched in amazement as the message changed and a new one replaced the one before it.

    I have been watching you for a long time.


    I was getting tired of my friend’s unfunny prank, so I grabbed the power cord and pulled it out.

    But the message, and creature, still remained resolutely on the screen.

    My cholesterol-laden heart began to beat faster.

    You have wasted your life.

    “No, no, no…I’m doing something with my life. I’m going to be –” I scrambled desperately for a sensible excuse – any excuse really. But nothing seemed to come to mind.

    I had, once again, tried to justify my bland existence with empty promises.

    I really did have the opportunity of a lifetime to be everything that I wanted to be – a happy, triumphant person who was at peace with the world, because he had achieved and gotten everything he ever wanted.

    All wasted.

    You will be forgotten.


    “Stop! Stop! STOP!” I screamed in desperation.

    But then, the terrible truth dawned upon me in all its horrifying clarity. Once I died, there would be no one at my funeral, no one to mourn me, and no one to shed tears over me because I was gone. Perhaps the only flowers that would be left on my crumbling grave would be from my parents on the off-hand chance that their deceased son passed through their minds.

    You are nothing.

    “What do you want from me? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” I bellowed, tearing out the last of the hair that had remained on my balding head.

    Something inside me snapped. I went into a furious frenzy, as I grabbed everything within my reach and began smashing it; I ripped my cartoon posters from the walls and pieces of rotting food went flying everywhere. I caught sight of my towering DVD collection, and with a furious snarl, I brought it all crashing down. The silver disks soon turned into fine sheet of powder, as I stomped on the broken pieces with all the strength left in my lardaceous, blubbery body.

    “Please stop,” I pleaded softly, beating the ground repeatedly with my ham-sized fist. But the fight inside me soon died down, and I lay there alone, curled up among the debris of my own personal rage.

    I knew I was condemned to continue this same self-pitying, disgusting cycle that I had followed during the large majority of my sad life. I was too much of a coward to ever break out from it and start living the life which had once been in my grasp. This was the path I had chosen and the only path that I was truly able to follow.

    The strange words had long since disappeared from the screen, but the Porygon’s message was as clear as ever in my mind.

    I plugged my computer back in and watched vacantly as it hummed and whirred back to life. I had made an important decision.

    It was too late for me to turn my life around from the dark abyss that I was now in. The shame had consumed me completely to the point that I felt like I was drowning in my own disgrace. That was why I had no choice but to continue this sedentary lifestyle until the end of my days. I just didn’t have the emotional nor physical fortitude to make a complete change for the better. My computer was the only thing I had left in my lonely and empty existence.

    I was ready to repeat this same sickening, foul, addicting cycle again…

    And again…

    And again.

    ********

    Hopefully it wasn't too sucky!

    Note: And an interesting tidbit for readers of Maggots of Society...Claire was very loosely based off the girl in this fic. XD
    Maggots of Society: Chapter One Up!



    Twins with Sike Saner! She loves to stay in the shadows.


  2. #2
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    Wow. No wonder you did so well...this was pretty sick. In a good way, of course. But still, sure as hell creeped me out. XD

    I hated going to this school with every last bit of my soul; I hated my psychopathic classmates, I hated my rundown classroom, but above all, I hated feeling like a complete loser. I would refuse to go for many days, despite my teacher’s feeble protests to my parents. Though I never had enough time to get on the Internet because of my prior training, I was suddenly entranced by it the more time I spent at home. At first, I just clicked on some pages of interest and left after just a couple of minutes. But as the days rolled by, I realized that those few minutes were turning into longer hours. I convinced myself that I was spending more and more time on the computer because of the large amount of information I found about Pokemon on the net. However, I could not deny it any longer when I would stay inside for weeks at the time, only to spend it all surfing the web in my yellow Pikachu-hoodie pajamas.

    I guess I was so allured by it because it proved to be a fantastic excuse to escape from my own problems. It was a safe haven where I could be anything I wanted to be, and be free of the shackles of responsibility. It proved to be so extraordinary and phenomenal that I didn’t even notice when the long-awaited day to try to get a Pokemon again came and went.
    Oh yeah...you did this so well it's not even funny. His mindset was perfectly done, and I honestly can't think of anything to improve this. It's that good.

    “Stop! Stop! STOP!” I screamed in desperation.

    But then, the terrible truth dawned upon me in all its horrifying clarity. Once I died, there would be no one at my funeral, no one to mourn me, and no one to shed tears over me because I was gone. Perhaps the only flowers that would be left on my crumbling grave would be from my parents on the off-hand chance that their deceased son passed through their minds.

    You are nothing.

    “What do you want from me? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?” I bellowed, tearing out the last of the hair that had remained on my balding head.

    Something inside me snapped. I went into a furious frenzy, as I grabbed everything within my reach and began smashing it; I ripped my cartoon posters from the walls and pieces of rotting food went flying everywhere. I caught sight of my towering DVD collection, and with a furious snarl, I brought it all crashing down. The silver disks soon turned into fine sheet of powder, as I stomped on the broken pieces with all the strength left in my lardaceous, blubbery body.
    Again, just great. Plus you get points for using the word lardaceous. Even though my spellchecker is telling me that's not a word.

    Fantastic job, a second place well deserved. Got my dose of mindscrewery for a while. XD

  3. #3
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    UGGGGGGH Stupid SPPF server that dies out on me FIVE TIMES and I thought the thread didn't go through, and apparently it did but it was DOUBLE POSTED.../rant x_x

    Anyway....

    Thanks duncan! It was a bit unnerving to really get into the main character's mind, but hopefully I managed to write him in a convincing way.

    Oh and lardaceous is a word! It means "resembling lard". =P

    THANKS AGAIN! *hands cookie covered in grease* =D
    Maggots of Society: Chapter One Up!



    Twins with Sike Saner! She loves to stay in the shadows.


  4. #4
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    (Pretty much the same saved for the last couple of lines. :P)

    Like I said, this is quite interesting that you smashed in two things together. On the one hand, you are mentioning of the traniers starting late and of them "studying" (I'm actually bringing up that concept in a parody fic I'm planning right now XD) and yeah, an orginal take on that. Also, you bring about also of how the internet can influence someone. Danny is realistic because he is pretty much anyone we can relate to who has been on the internet for almost all his life. Good job on portraying him! ^^

    However, there is something I want to bring up. I know you didn't meant to do this, but I think it's kind of sterotypical of a chubby kid the one surfing the internet for most of his day. I'm sure there are plenty of kids who are not chubby that goes on the internet a lot (this is from having some hallmates going to the internet than studying XD). Sorry about this but it always seems the fat kids are protrayed as the ones surfing the internet a lot. That isn't too big of a problem though. Like I said, you protrayed Danny well with him only having a couple of things as his comfort and such.

    Overall, quite like this. Hehe, congrats on winning second place! Also, haha cool Claire's based off that girl. XD


    Tumblr | FFnet | Author's Profile| Archive of Our Own | Banner: Umi Mizuno
    I'm still writing, but probably not much Pokemon stuff at the moment. HAM!


  5. #5
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    Whoa... That was intense at the end. I think his mind frame about the Internet addiction is lik how people really act.

    Yup, I see why you got second place. Twas very good. An the Porygon at the end... Shudder...

    Lol, lardacious... Teehee... The way the girl rejected him seems like something that would really happen. Kudos!

    Araleon
    Current Black Team: Rivka (Stoutland), Elmo (Musharna), Scarlett (Whimsicott), Gabriel (Carracosta), Reese (Klang), Sean (Mienfoo); all are at level 47. Currently in Victory Road.

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    Bay: (I'll copy and paste my reply as well...with some changes!)

    Haha, so you noticed too! Yeah, I added the whole "studying Pokemon" and made a dark satire out of it when I realized how ridiculous it is for an aspiring trainer to do that (I also had the inspiration after reading that thread in SPPF that talked about this).

    You know, you bring up an excellent point. I didn't quite think about it that way, since asides from writing this as a dramatic parody of what can happen if trainers arrive late for their Pokemon, I also slightly based it around how in my early teens (13-15) I was quite addicted to the Internet because I was depressed, so I know that not only morbidly obese people are on the Internet a lot. But yes, maybe Danny's character would've been more efficiently portrayed and less stereotypical if he had been an attractive person who was still destroying his life because of the Internet. Hmm...

    Whoa, your review really made me think! Thank you soooooooo much, Bay, for reading and leaving me a review!

    Thanks, though I reallyyyyyy wanted to win! XD Yeah, if you notice, her physical description to Claire is almost identical, as well as some parts of her personality.

    Araleon: Well, it all really depends. There are several levels of Internet addiction; some people break out of it completely, and some others don't. It's really quite complex.

    Ah yes, the Porygon is actually a focal point of my one-shot. Is it truly real...?

    Thanks for the review! =D
    Maggots of Society: Chapter One Up!



    Twins with Sike Saner! She loves to stay in the shadows.


  7. #7
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    Omigosh.

    I got chills. Seriously. For me, this is the kind of fic that falls under the 'train wreck' variety--it's horrific and chilling so I don't want to read it (I'm not a fan of angst/tragedy unless it ends on a hopeful note XD ), but at the same time can't stop. That's a good thing, by the way. It means it struck a chord.

    The reflection of true-to-life concepts in this is amazing. I think one of the most tragic things about this is that Danny could have done something about his problem, but not only didn't, he knew he could have and still didn't. Even when he thinks he doesn't have the willpower, he hasn't tried, so how would he know? He just kind of... folds. Stays wallowing in self-pity going 'I'm so dumb' without actually doing anything about it even though he knows it's a problem.

    And lol, anyone reading this would think I hate the guy. XD I did want to beat him over the head a bit, but mostly I just pitied him. The part that really got me is that there are people like that in real life. It's just... sad. And that sounded lame, but it is. Sad, I mean.

    Also, the fact that something relatively minor like missing a pokemon-getting day turns him into that, well... yeah, that was just sad. I mean, I know it's a big thing in the pokemon world but there were other opportunities. Heck, he could've asked his sister to go out and catch a low-level one for him. But he didn't; he let it get to him and take control of his life. Just wow.

    Things to mention... um, I thought his reaction at the start was kind of over-dramatic. I think it was the 'eyes wide with terror' thing that did it; I mean, I can imagine that he would start feeling worse at the question, but 'terror' seems kind of strong. Also, his agitated breathing sounded almost like he was having a panic attack or something.

    Then he just kinda leans back and lets memories wash over him and... we never see him recover (so to speak. Well, he recovers enough to reply, anyway). I dunno, I just thought it was a bit too dramatic.

    The other thing was that the descriptions of him (or his obesity) seemed kind of... parodical. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but they seemed to be dramatised beyond realism with the intention of being amusing. That could just be me, however; I found 'Kill Bill' to be amusing because of the ridiculous amounts of blood that were splattering everywhere and it struck me as overdone but in an amusing way. And then I told my friend and she was like 'wtf are you talking about!?'

    So like I said, I dunno if that was intentional or whether it's just me (probably the latter XD ), but it kinda took away from the gravity of the story.

    Just wondering, how old was he in the story's 'present'? I got the impression he was quite a bit older than a kid (an adult at least, but you say that he's balding too), but sometimes I got a bit confused as to his age and at what stage he was reflecting on things. And uhm, what brought on the flashback of 'you have no life'? Don't get me wrong, I think it should be there, it's just that he seems to have come out of his memories long enough to respond to his 'friend' but then he gets catapulted back into memory lane and I didn't get what sparked it.

    Oh, and what did his sister think of all this? :P There were some points where I wondered about her, how she had reacted to her brother's decline.

    Some final things...:

    My parents were proud; they thought I had a wonderful future ahead of me, as like my sister.
    Yah, the bold bit. ^.^;


    I snapped out of my thoughtful reverie, when I noticed that my friend had written a new message.
    I was just thinking that 'thoughtful' might not be a good word, because it has positive connotations to it and he's just remembered something depressing (although the more literal meaning is pretty much perfect, darnit... don't you hate it when that happens?). What about 'melancholic'?

    Also, did he notice the new message and that was what snapped him out of it? If so, the comma doesn't need to be there. If not, then might I suggest a change from 'when I noticed' to 'and noticed'?


    The silver disks soon turned into fine sheet of powder, as I stomped on the broken pieces with all the strength left
    You probably don't need that comma there...


    So yeah. ^.^;; Sorry there's more crit than praise... I'm better at the second than the first part. I thought you did an awesome job, though, especially with Danny's psychology. Uhm, yeah. ^.^; Not sure how else to say it. Nice work!

  8. #8
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    0_o

    *explodes*

    That was great! 9.5/10, but only cuz it was sad. *shakes hand* Very good job, Burnt Flower-chan. Very good. I love reading oneshots, and this was a great one!

  9. #9
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    @__@
    ...
    ...
    ...
    I am speechless.
    ...
    Teach me your ways.
    ...
    Okay, enough ellipses. That was FRIKIN AWESOME111!! 9.5/10? Heck it shoud be given eleventy-gazzillion/10

    How do you write so well? ****! You could be a published author. Yet you lurk around in a Pokemon forum?! Open your eyes woman!

    Heh, heh. This was amazing. Don't know what else to say *scratches head*

  10. #10
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    Quote Originally Posted by poke poke
    9.5/10? Heck it shoud be given eleventy-gazzillion/10
    Yeah, I know, she's really great. But for some reason it wasn't perfect - there was one thing off. I don't know what. But don't get me wrong...it was amazing. ^^

    Also, seeing how eleventy-gazillion is not an existent number, I couldn't give it to her. =P

  11. #11
    Join Date
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    Yeah, guess I ws exaggerating. But I always get that way after I read one of her works.

  12. #12
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    Jun 2008
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    Wowza.
    That was crazy-amazing-good.

    The main character was done so well it's not even funny. He seems like a real-life person. The weird thing is, I know some people that I could see ending up like that. o.O.
    What's REALLY creepy is that I could almost be like him. I have the same procrastination problems and all that, and I'm a person who could get stuck in frustration and laziness like that... it's scaring the pants off me.
    Of course, on the other hand, I'm quite a bit underweight. *wipes brow in relief*.

    Hehe, as soon as I read the bit about the girl, I thought of Claire.
    -The glass is neither half empty nor half full. It's merely twice as large as it needs to be. -Click here for my notoriously unread fanfic, Mistress of Ice.
    -Credit to Light Venusaur for the card.
    FC (Jake): 5412 6513 1083 (Even though I rarely use Wi-fi)

  13. #13
    Join Date
    Jul 2006
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    660

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    This is... wow, I don't quite know what to say about this. Brilliant characterization, very believable. A truely pitiable character, this boy is.

    Heh, even the waking up late trope which is used far too much in fanfiction actually works here and manages to not come across like a bad Satoshi rip-off. Good job.
    “I’m sorry, try again next year,” he stated somberly, pity etched on every single contour of his wrinkled face.
    I really liked the way you described the Prof in this line for some reason.

    I bumped into this little grammatical error, though:

    [quote]Little did my young self knew at that moment...[quote]

    should be

    Little did my young self know at that moment...
    That little girl was pretty... shocking. I liked how you had him go into describing her normal, if very girly, outward appearance before tripping us with the abruptly-stated gruesome detail after going straight to the point with the other kid.

    I guess I was so allured by it because it proved to be a fantastic excuse to escape from my own problems. It was a safe haven where I could be anything I wanted to be, and be free of the shackles of responsibility.
    This. This is just perfect. In two simple sentences you have aptly put into words exactly what makes the internet so appealing to all those who just can't get a break in the real world.

    Just... perfect.

    Great characterization, even the distant, but concerned parents felt very real.

    He is, in a way, very much responsible for his current state, but I really can't help but pity him.

    But despite my loathing, I secretly longed for close human contact. It was an impossible dream for such a socially awkward person like me, but one which I so avidly desired.
    As much as I hated to admit it, these anonymous, faceless people were the only friends I had.
    Oh God. I think part of this sympathy might actually be empathy. ... I know what that's like...

    I am Porygon. I have been studying human behavior and their link to cyberspace since my creation. Based on the information I have gathered, I can conclude that you have contributed nothing to humanity.
    Ouch. What?

    He's completely losing it...

    I was ready to repeat this same sickening, foul, addicting cycle again…

    And again…

    And again.
    God. Wow, that was an incredible fic. The character was flawed in so many ways, so weak and lacking will-power, but you managed to pull it off while still keeping him interesting enough to read about. ^_^

    I think you maaaaay have gone a bit overboard with all of the details about his body, though since it's from his point-of-view, they're most likely more examples of self-loathing, but I felt you dwelled on the subject a little more than necessary as the writer. But overall, wonderful. Wonderful in a sick way, yes, but wonderful.

  14. #14
    Join Date
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    BF- Hey, I remeber that story, I read it on fanfiction a few months ago, I thought it had a moral to the story actually, actually do something with your life when you say you will, and don't waste time and all.

    Anyways, it's a good story.
    Claims Amber Benson and Ali Larter as Bishie.


    Credits go to the original creators of Cynthia's and Flannery's artwork.
    United we stand but seperated we fall

    And so the fifth generation begins...

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