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Thread: Tarnished Gold: The Story of Cynthia (R)

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    Default Tarnished Gold: The Story of Cynthia (R)

    If you haven't noticed the parenthesis next to the thread title, this fic is rated R, for the following reasons:

    1. Lime pedophilia
    2. Demonic possession
    3. Violence and some swearing
    4. The fic often goes emo and mopes over the detrimental effects of having emotions, and vice versa, via the thoughts of Cyrus, Mesprit, Giratina, and Cynthia's actions


    Mostly, it's going to be messed up, and I'm probably going to get alot of people praising it merely out of its shock factor.

    Anyways, this is a rewrite of a fic that made me very popular at the Bulbagarden Forums. I wish I could upload the original thread, but BMGf is down at the moment for a very huge revamp, and I've been banned from there for quite some time (a permaban).

    Here's the link to the (poorly formatted) FF.net form: Link

    I'm making this much better than that, but the events of Cynthia's journey are still key to the fic, especially explaining how Cynthia got all those rare, perfectly IV and EV trained Pokemon, a feat only accomplished by Joey and his Ratatta, as of HGSS.

    Also, there are parts of the fic that take concepts from Champion Game by dragon user x, and Lull by Breezy.

    And there are a few Fakemon in this, such as Miccrow and Flis, which are pretty much teeny-tiny, uncatchable Pokes.

    Without further ado, here is the actual piece of writing:

    TARNISHED GOLD:
    THE STORY OF CYNTHIA

    By
    The_Noob



    PROLOGUE



    Sevii Ocean, somewhere near Unova. July 12, 2010. 9:35 AM.


    A gentle sea breeze blew a giggling Hoppip across the tropical warm sea as they spied into the ocean, looking at titanic schools of Micrrow that swarmed the light turquoise depths of the sea. The creatures themselves were no more than a thirty-fourth-inch long, and looked like tiny fish with proboscis and teeny legs, and swarmed by the trillions before a couple of Wailords and their Wailmer children appeared from the depths, devouring them and making them scatter.

    Hoppip lolled about in the air, fully entranced by the site of the scattering Micrrow shining beneath the waves, with the sun reflecting off their bodies, when a Wailord’s discharge of water shot high into the air and smacked the little flying ragweed into a rather rough thermal, which tossed its body about, smacking it into a pack of Altaria and Swablu who were posing as clouds to catch their prey. The birds, sensing that food was near, snatched up Hoppip.

    The ragweed screamed in horror as the blue dragon looked upon its prey. The Altaria, disappointed in its catch, alerted his pack with a sharp warble, and dropped Hoppip, not without accidentally tearing the floating ragweed’s wing with one of its claws. Now unable to fly correctly, the Hoppip was left to fall to its death as the harsh winds sent it quickly to an unknown destination.

    The little ragweed tried to glide with its other wing, but that failed, and the leaf buckled and slapped it in the face, blinding it. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Hoppip screamed as it spun through the rough air, descending quickly to whatever it might hit. Within a few seconds of horror, the creature hit the ground. With a harsh splash, Hoppip landed in a small pond of clear water, the force of impact enough to force its wings off its body.

    “Squeh?” Hoppip squeaked, realizing it was alive. It took the Pokemon a few minutes to fully come to, and when it did, it weakly padded out of the water, climbing onto a few concrete steps, and onto a plastic chair. Sighing, the wounded creature fell asleep.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    10:00 AM, Bamboo Orchid Island, somewhere in the Sevii Ocean.

    Roserade walked out of the sliding glass door, and out to the inground pool. She soaked up the hot sun, and smiled warmly at it, strolling towards a plastic lounging chair, which she sat on. “SKIII!!” The chair screamed, startling Roserade, who jumped to her feet and looked at what she sat on. The half-dead Hoppip stared at Roserade, with a sleepy expression in its eyes. Roserade smiled pleasantly and sprinkled some sweet powder onto the Hoppip, who breathed it in soundly.

    Of course, then the little creature realized it couldn’t breathe out. Hoppip had been paralyzed. Now, the horrified little Pokemon could only watch in horror as the Roserade began dissecting its now useless body with her claws.

    After he was torn apart, Hoppip, who was now barely alive, was dragged inside the house by one of his entrails, which was bleeding green chlorophyll. The room was dark, for the windows had been covered by the shades, and an evil presence could be felt. Roserade picked up the nearly disemboweled ragweed, who now had nearly no skin on his body, and threw it into the air like a sling. From out of the darkness, Hoppip was snatched up in a pair of sharp-toothed jaws, killing it quickly before the beast swallowed it whole. With a roar, it shot a pillar of fire in the air, revealing its bipedal form and fin-like hands, dimly illuminated in orange light, standing out in the blackness.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Meanwhile, in a bedroom in same house.

    Inside the dark house, a tropical breeze broke through a window that was not properly blinded, and the wind blew through a woman’s long, flowing blond hair. Her face was a grim, tight frown, which was unfitting on her tall face.

    She was kneeling, watching a little boy sleep. Her eyes, a bleak grey, examined his form, which she had unclothed during the middle of the night. The bed sheets, a black, voluminous mass on the already gigantic bed, had been parted away from his little body.

    In the shadow of the slight sunbeams, the woman decided to get a closer look at the child, who began to turn a little as she did, making a slight moan in his sleep. Silently, she slid her fingers through the child’s messy and uncombed hair, a few shades lighter than her own, smiling slightly; however, her steely expression, did not.

    After an hour or so of petting the little boy’s hair, she put her hand down on the bedding next to the little boy’s body, accidentally placing it on a small stain from the night before. However, she didn’t mind. She was too enthralled in staring at the little boy’s body.

    Six hours later, another breeze came through the window, and the child’s eyes, a strange shade of brown, opened up.

    “Miss Cynthia…. Emm… what are you doing?” He asked, noting that Cynthia had been standing over him, her face grimly beautiful. Another breeze rolled in, and he noticed he was not wearing any underpants, obviously remembering falling asleep with them on.

    The woman didn’t change her expression or stance, but instead looked into the little boy’s eyes, her grim look freezing him into place, “I was just… watching you, Barry, my dearest. You look so precious when you sleep,” She said calmly, her voice smooth and cold, almost seeming to echo in the dark, empty room, “And you were such a good boy last night, so very cooperative. Your little friend, Dawn, always fights me a little when we have our time together; I don‘t think she enjoys it as much as you do.”

    Barry blushed, and looked away a little, he felt awkward whenever Cynthia brought up what she called ‘special time’, or ‘time together’. He didn’t know why, but as much as he didn’t like to think of the odd feelings he always felt on those nights, he couldn’t help but love them.

    Getting off the bed to get something out of his suitcase, which he had brought for the flight over, Barry did not notice that Cynthia’s eyes began to change colors in surreal ways, with green spirals forming in her now purple sclera. As he sat down, and pulled his underwear onto him, not turning around to witness the glorious sight of Cynthia’s hair beginning to spin and ominously change color as well.

    Still blissfully unaware of what was happening behind him, he picked up a small phone, a PokeGear, and dialed a number. His movements became a little more erratic, and whatever calmness he reserved for his visits with the beautiful woman went away.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Twinleaf Town, Sinnoh. That same time.

    A cold wind, crisp and snowy, rippled across the sky on what was yet another perpetually wintry day in Twinleaf, a tiny lakeside cul-de-sac with a population of ten.

    “Ding-ding! Ding-ding!” Came the familiar ring of Dawn’s phone from her pocket.

    The 13-year-old girl, who was sitting outside on the flowery grass with her mother, picked up the phone and stuck it to her ear, bringing onto her the irritating sound of Barry’s voice.

    “Oh, h-, h-, hai Dawn. How’re ya doin’?” Barry jittered out awkwardly.

    “Well. I think you’d know. We live 20 feet away from each other anyways.” Dawn muttered, slightly annoyed. Ever since winning the title of Champion, she had lost all patience with Barry’s inability to pay attention for more than ten seconds, unless in the presence of a very attractive female; Dawn sadly being the only one who did not get this special treatment from him.

    “Oh, heheh, alrighty then, I’m at Cynthia’s house, just woke up,” Barry spat out quickly, with many quick pauses in between some words, quite obviously mentioning Dawn and Barry’s monthly visits to Bamboo Orchid Island.

    “Did you-” Dawn whispered, a little more peeved now at the thought of the jumpy idiot who had bugged her most of her life, with her Cynthia.

    “Uhuhh… Heeheheh… Yeah, she bzchzhzhzhzhzhvhzhzhzchzchz…” Barry chortled out as the phone line seemed to short circuit and go to static before a click silenced the call altogether.

    Dawn’s mother looked across, slightly intrigued by the frustration in her child’s voice. The preteen gave a vague, “It was nothing, mom,” and went on listening to static.

    “Communication errors. Eh.” Dawn said as she bumped the phone against her fist a few times, trying to make it work while her mother was looking her general direction, causing her to feel slightly anxious, if not embarrassed. Noise began to come out the phone again after a while. “Hello?” She inquired, expecting Barry’s annoying voice. However, what came next was completely different.

    HELLO DAWN” came Cynthia’s voice, barely as calm as usual, but instead a whirl of many other voices echoing upon each other, with a much louder one sounding vaguely like the Champion’s.

    “Mi.. Miss Cynthia?” Dawn mumbled, a little afraid of what she heard, “What’s wrong?”

    NOTHING DEAREST” Came the voice of ‘Cynthia’, “I’M PERFECTLY FINE.”

    “You don’t sound it.” Dawn said. It was no use, however. The line was dead.

    Dawn’s mother caught a look of Dawn’s worried face, and faced her. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” She cooed.

    “Something’s wrong with Miss Cynthia,” Dawn said, worried a little, “I’m gonna go to her house and see what’s wrong.”

    The girl took a round, red-and-white sphere from her belt and threw it to the ground, flashing and then revealing the form of her Pidgeot, which she had trained for a few battles at the Battle Frontier a few months ago. With a few whitstles, she commanded it to allow her on her back and fly.

    The bird reluctantly let her go on, and bucked her off a few times. However, Dawn pardoned her mother's worried gasps and 'are you alright dear?'s. It had happened many times when she first trained her prized Staravia to fly her places, along with her Altaria, so she was quite used to it. With an angered look on its face, the bird finally took off at its species infamous supersonic speeds.

    Dawn’s mother sat in the grass and looked up at her daughter, riding the bird, flying away into the sunny sky. ‘I wonder why that woman’s so important to Dawn.’ She queried obliviously to herself as she stared into the light-blue sky and the fluffy clouds that hung in its vast cold space.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Bamboo Orchid Island. After Barry’s last transmission.

    Cynthia, her body twisted into an awkward position that had probably broken many of her bones, took her hand off Barry’s mouth, letting him slump to the ground and impulsively cough out a little black smoke. However, he was not dead, but instead in some sort of trance, and breathing at an unnaturally fast pace.

    Her face fully turned into what looked like a swirling mass of hair, similar to a galaxy of some sort, shining platinum-blonde but shaded a slight dark purple, with green orbs swirling in it that so resembled her strange, surreal eyes and mouth, the woman stood up to full height, caressing the large, dangling pendant between her breasts, which now had a strange design, two dots and a few stripes, glowing upon it.

    The Champion was no longer human, but something else entirely.

    ****

    R&R, please! Due to, shall we say, complications, updates will be... few and far inbetween at best.

    Oh, and The_Noob is my universal pen name for fanfiction writing.

    Table of Contents:

    Prolouge (above)
    Chapter I (Link)
    Last edited by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb; 29th October 2011 at 3:27 AM.

  2. #2
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    I never thought you could outdo yourself when it comes to Cynthia's pedophilia, but I believe you have.

    Welcome back.


    Follow Steven Stone on his journey from bored rich boy to hardened Champion! Click the link and let the adventure begin!

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    Quote Originally Posted by Lugion View Post
    I never thought you could outdo yourself when it comes to Cynthia's pedophilia, but I believe you have.
    How can't I outdo myself?

    Oh, and you know how she got posessed by Spiritomb? That's only a slight part of what's wrong with her.

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    I had a feeling that Cynthia was turning into Spiritomb. Nice to see you back, The_Noob!

    I wish I could write some subliminally disturbing stuff like you guys. Guess I'll have to try that out.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    I was never sure of what it takes to write creepy stuff like that, either.

    I guess I was born with a gift for writing weird stuff. Also, I should rephrase it slightly, that last part?

    People are thinking she was turned into Spiritomb, when really its presence inside Cynthia was becoming more obvious.

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    Also, that Pidgeot really hates Dawn, hmm. They all seem to be a bunch of prepubescent jerks, really.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    Default Chapter I

    This chapter took a pretty long time. Not as much older Cynthia as I'd like.

    But, it does clarify the end of the prolouge for anyone confused by it.

    Also, the asterisks scattered around were glitches caused by uploading from iPod Touch's Notepad app.

    Chapter I

    -------------------------------
    Over the Sevii Ocean. Late afternoon.*

    Pidgeot rushed across the sky as Dawn held onto its soft, tanned feathers, peering down at the crashing waves beneath. Today was not a good day for flying, as a harsh jet-stream gale would tell you.

    As they became more proficient at maneuvering a Pokémon across the sky, trainers who flew birdback or by dragon on a regular basis knew the air currents just as well as anything that could fly. The winds today, however, put rocks in Dawn's stomach.*

    "I need to help Cynthia..." The child murmured as Pidgeot angrily carked, having dodged a hapless Altaria with a cry that would translate to a cab driver in a crowded city street quickly getting out of his car and giving a reckless driver a middle finger and a "The **** were ya' doin'?" in his harsh Bronx accent.*

    Pidgeot could'nt have had it worse today. He wanted to buck the little kid off him and end it there so he could get a mate and act like a real Pidgeot for once. Thoughts like this were the effects of having been flying for 36 hours, and he had had to put up with Dawn's airsickness ruining his plumage, a bunch of retarded seabirds and ragweed, and the harsh gales that big Pokémon hiding behind a few clouds was....

    'Wait...'Pidgeot thought to himself, 'How did I just notice him? That big red-white-n'-blue galoot's been stalking me for this whole time an' been makin' my flight all shitty! I'mma give 'im a piece'a my...'

    Ironically, Pidgeot gave him a piece of his mind, for just as his last thoughts went through his head, so did the talons of a very large, very vicious red-white-and-blue bird-of-prey.

    Dawn, shellshocked and holding on for dear life, climbed onto the monster's back in a scrambling, death-defying motion (considering she performed the endeavor two miles above sea level), and clung on even harder for dear life than when birdbacking Pidgeot.

    For there was a chance she would share Pidgeot's fate, the girl thought to herself, or die a worse one.

    She was beginning to wonder whether she would be able to help her lover with whatever had happened to her.

    -------------------------------
    Bamboo Orchid Island. Earlier that day. Within Cynthia Shirona's mind.

    Cynthia began to think to herself. That was always how she started conversations with Spiritomb:

    'So, how are things today, my friends?' She queried within her mind.

    'GOOD.', a hundred or so assorted voices answered back, 'YOU HAVE DONE WELL, CHILD. BY DAY'S END, THE LITTLE GIRL AND BOY WILL BE OURS. WE CAN SPARE YOU FOR NOW. AS USUAL.' Spiritomb always loved toying with the woman, something Cynthia had gotten used to.

    'Ah, yes, my friends, that's good,' Cynthia replied, 'but, I need to draw the girl here so that you can...'

    'CONSUME HER.' Spiritomb screamed back, finishing the sentence. As this was said, a strong flash of light penetrated the darkness Cynthia always saw when talking to Spiritomb.

    -------------------------------

    Meanwhile, same place. Outside of Cynthia's mind.

    She woke up with a start, her eyes flitting around in a cold sweat. Cynthia had found that having Spiritomb manifest itself from within her for very long drained on her physically. Of course, this didn't mean she shouldn't wrench herself off Barry's body.

    She had never liked the 11-year-old, who rarely ever felt much when she touched his scrawny, jumpy body. And whatever mental problems he had made it hard to do anything with him. But, the fact he was a boy meant he was guillible, far more than Dawn, or any other female child, so she kept him.

    "Sweet dreams, Barry" She whispered bitterly into an irresponsive ear, patting the child's profusely sweating carcass, whose violently fast breathing would end as soon as his conscience was assimilated into Spiritomb. In her reign as Champion, Spiritomb had absorbed at least six people into it, three of which were young girls she lured to their demise.

    As the tall, gaunt woman callously stuffed Barry in his suitcase, after poking a hole or two, which his small, limp body easily allowed for, and slid the bag under the huge bed, Spiritomb probed the woman's thoughts once more.*

    Although Spiritomb was of many minds, it could never recollect as one, so memories were lost all the time. As such, the demons always had to rely on their host for linear thinking and recalling memories.

    Cynthia, though, had oddly choppy memories, so she was not reliable. Outside of Spiritomb's snaking in and out of her mind, Cynthia was dressing into her usual black morning gown, her stomach rumbling for whatever she felt like making for breakfast.

    'I have all the time in the world to..' Cynthia thought to herself, when she realized something clicked within her thoughts, so to say. She cringed in disgust.

    Now, Cynthia had never liked feeling emotions after Spiritomb had possessed her. 'Those were for the weak', she'd remind herself, 'it's why I'm better than the children I molest and kill.'

    'WE HEARD YOU.' Spiritomb stated from within her mind.

    'Not even safe in my thoughts, am I?' Cynthia mumbled to Spiritomb mentally, 'Not as long as you're leeching off my soul! Will you ever stop?'

    'NOT UNTIL YOUR SOUL IS AS BLACK AS MINE WAS WHEN I CREATED US.' The most dominant and ancient voice in Spiritomb said.

    'Yes, yes, and it nearly is. I'm quite proud of it actually.' Cynthia told the leader of the hive mind, 'But what are you pestering me about now?'

    'THE MEMORY THAT NEARLY MADE YOU CHOKE ON THIN AIR, CYNTHIA.' Spiritomb bellowed, and the woman replied, on cue, 'You mean, when I was really little and...'

    'and...'

    'WHAT?'

    'I can't trust you. You're going to kill me and absorb me, aren't you?'

    'NO. YOUR TRIBUTE WILL BE ENOUGH FOR NOW.'

    'Good.'

    'SO TELL ME.'

    Cynthia, in the physical world, slouched into a squat-sit pose against her dresser and prepared to have what little was left of her human emotions destroyed. It was Spiritomb's specialty.

    'When I was little, I...'

    -------------------------------
    Celestic Town, Sinnoh. May 13, 1979.*

    A hot sun shone over the usually foggy and frigid old town. Days like this were Gible's favorites.

    "Gurgle gurgle", the little, sharklike creature grumbled, staring nonchalantly at her friend as she slowly closed and reopened her jaws over her face.

    Gibles, especially Cynthia's, are stereotypically awkward, as attitude around humans go. They stare blankly, and open and close their mouthes slowly, often slowly walking towards food, only to slowly eat it. Some people find Gible to be more frightening than Garchomp, as the usually quiet and slow dragons can suddenly become intensely vicious and fast around other Pokemon, which worries those that find their Gible friends staring at them from across their room during the middle of the night.

    Cynthia, however, was not afraid of her Gible, and a warm little smile spread across her face as she opened large grey eyes to the inside of her pet's mouth. She giggled cutely and pulled the landshark off her face, whose pudgy, seagreen limbs and tail accented cyan stripes, a red underbelly, along with odd structures on either side of her head.

    Cynthia, still in her pajamas, patted the top of Gible's head.

    "So, Miss Gible," she said in a sort of way that was almost baby talk as she went to get a bag of feed from her kitchen, "How long were you watching over me last night?"

    Over the course of three minutes, Gible opened and closed her mouth twelve times. Cynthia had come to learn that this meant the amount of hours Gible had kept watch, and thus, the length of time she had been asleep. The landshark kept the same, unmoving and unblinking position throughout this process, arms slightly akimbo of its body, and eyes unwavering.

    "Are you hungry?" Cynthia asked, tossling her shoulder-length blond hair and putting on a pink T-shirt with a heart over her naked chest. At age nine, the little girl often slept topless, having no real breasts, so she had no need for a bra. A pair of blue jeans went on next, and she trekked over to a nearby kitchen downstairs to get Gible's food.

    When she entered the smallish room where huge racks and shelves kept titanic amounts of spice jars filled with strange ingredients, such as Vileplume's Powder (a powerful sedative, aphrodisiac, and laxative), pickled Sawsbuck penis (which has a strange ability to cause huge bursts of libido), and aged Oran berries in Psyduck blood (which has an all-encompassing taste) to name a few.

    Those, however, were the higher racks, about ten to fifteen feet (3 and 1/3 to 5 meters, for those using the metric system) up, and required her grandmother's ladder to reach. Due to the height of the shelves, a few of the antique spices could be three hundred years old, if not older. Of course, what Cynthia was looking for was much less bizzare, exotic, or rustic. She was looking for the lower east end of the kitchen, which had a cabinet full of more contemporary foods, such as candies and cereals, and a fridge full of meat, drink, and, on special occasions, ice cream, a favorite treat of Cynthia's.*

    The little girl got out Gible's plain, plastic food bowl and put it on the floor, getting out a bag of dragon Pokemon food and pouring some in. She had some trouble holding the heavy bag, but there was no spills. As usual, Gible came out of the room adjacent to the kitchen, and slowly plodded over to food.

    With Gible preoccupied with eating, Cynthia patted the creature's fin and ambled to a couch in the living room, feeling a little tired, as most people did in the morning. Subconciously, she turned on the house television, and suddenly became excited.

    Her mother was battling a challenger!*

    Ever since she had been born, Cynthia had known her estranged mother only in photographs and televised battles. She was the regional Champion of Sinnoh, and had defended her title for twenty-five years, specializing in the powerful ice Pokemon that the cold land harbored.

    From what she had seen of her mother was a tall, thin woman who wore a stately white fur coat, which easily contrasted her short jet-black hair, dark blue eyes, and blood-red lips, but blended in with her pale skin. She stood proudly with little pity in her eyes as she fought opponents of all kinds. It was awe-inspiring for a child her age.*

    All her life, the child had wanted to defeat her mother, and take her title, like any sensible Pokemon trainer who wants to conquer their home region's Elite Four.

    But, she was caught in the moment of watching her mother pull out a Pokeball, and begin what would likely be a momentous battle.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile. Lily-of-the-Valley Stadium.

    Sofi, the Champion of Sinnoh, rolled up the sleeves of her robe and stared at her opponent with a cold, vicious look.

    The challenger was the most powerful of the Elite Four, the journalistic steel Pokemon specialist, Snapper, whose nickname came from, obviously, his knack for snapping unwanted pictures of people.

    He dressed in a stately purple suit with a red frill between the collar, a black undershirt, and his favorite camera slung round his neck. His oversized, eager smile was framed by equally extravagant thick-lensed glasses, over-combed, greasy brown hair and a face too small for his expression.

    He held a Pokeball out, his expression slowly becoming more sly, and he yelled, in his obnoxious, heavily accented voice, "Alright, baby, let's see what you've got!"

    Sofi scowled in disgust, knowing why that insensitive sexist pig was battling her today. Snapper was always looking for a way to become Champion, whether it be through compromising photos of her emaciated, tattoo-covered body, attempting to beat her in combat (battles he constantly lost), or trying to get the Elite Four to believe she was going to cut their pay for battling trainers. Today's latest bit of childish conniving from the photographer fit into the second category of annoyances, thankfully.*

    "I think I'll start, love," he snickered snidely, quickly throwing *a Pokeball containing an exotic Unovic Pokemon of his, Ferrothorn.

    "GOWAAN." It bellowed loudly and shakily as it used the three spikeballs at the end of its tentacles to move across the floor of the white porcelain stadium. Its metallic grey body was covered in harsh spikes, with an almond-like shape to the core of its body, and similar structures existed on the ends of its limbs. It had large, emotionless yellow eyes, and flourescent green tentacles, which matched the color of a stripe at the middle of its core.

    As it slowly plunked along on three spikeballs, it began to exude dark purple mist, and was moving slower, as its eyes began to fill with vicious intent. "That's Curse, folks," Ferrothorn's trainer screamed loudly and smugly at the excited audience, much to Sofi's annoyance. "You see, as Ferrothorn starts moving slower, his attacks become increasingly more potent, and he can take far more hits, as if he wasn't good enough at that."

    Sofi decided to finish it very quickly, before Snapper got on her nerves, and so sent out her powerhouse, Frosslass, for whom the crowd went wild. Frosslass was infamous for taking out extremely formidable teams within seconds with her indomitably powerful Ice Beam and Shadow Ball, and the fact that she could make herself imossible to hit in whatever snowstorm the equally famous Abomasnow could conjure.

    Frosslass squealed hauntingly, and cheers buzzed from the crowd. As usual, Sofi scowled at the sheer desperation her people had to see her battle, it was as if they were simple and easily entertained as a retarded Bidoof.

    Frosslass decided to begin using one of her signature moves, Double Team, to taunt her sluggish enemy, quickly vanishing and reappearing. 'I should have sent out Abomasnow first. If that bastard gets a lucky shot with that disgusting creature of his, I'll lose everything. Everything.' Sofi thought to herself as hundreds watched with baited breath. The camera crew zoomed in patiently on the action, and Sofi, knowning how to work the crowd, used a hand gesture, a silent command that meant to charge up a Dark Pulse, a debilitating move that both wowed the crowd and rendered the opponent too terrified to fight.*

    Frosslass' eyes began glowing with black light and dark aura, which radiated throughout her body and exploded into a black cloud of hallucinogenic gas, propelled by aura power. The effect of the discharge came twofold: the psychotropic drugs would cause the victim to become terrified of whatever it sees, which is quite effective in a large stadium full of seething crowds, and the wave of power that propelled the gas would do decent damage to its target.

    Ferrothorn, however, had other ideas. It polarized its metal shell with an electromagnetic burst of energy, which sent the creature flying into the air, which enabled it to dodge the Dark Pulse, and thusly deliver a crushing blow to the head of the kimono-wearing ghost's head, and Sofi's most powerful fighter hit the floor, much to the Champion's terror, who watched on as the crowd cheered for the surprisingly powerful Ferrothorn.*

    An unseen announcer, loud and charismatic, boomed: "The Champion's invincible Frosslass is down! This could be the end of an era, folks! Sofi now has five Pokemon left to fight, and our challenger, Snapper of the Elite Four has six! Who will win?"

    The camera crew decided that this would be a good time to cut to commercials, to amp up the suspense of anyone watching their television.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Celestic Town.

    Gible stared at the television nonchalantly, not minding its owner's vicegrip on her as she watched the commercials in horror. Her mother's best battler had been knocked out. Never before in her nine years had she seen Frosslass take any more than a few hits.

    If her mother lost this battle against the arrogant challenger, she would be shattered. How could she not be the Champion?*

    In order to ease her worry, the little girl ran out to her grandmother's garden in the back of her house, going through a door left of the room she was in.

    "Grandma! Grandma! Come in! Come in!" Cynthia yelled.

    "What is it?!" Came her grandmother's yell. The woman, who was at least seventy, was tending her garden of tall Yache bushes, which could be harvested to make potent, albeit bitter, medicines, and the berries they made were valuable for resident dragon trainers who were often faced with fighting ice Pokemon users, or ice attacks in general. The old woman, however, usually smoked the leaves as an aphrodisiac.

    At this point during the late spring, the plants were probably almost ready for harvest, as a few test smokes told her. Cynthia ran to her grandmother as fast as her little feet could take her and grabbed the old woman's leg as soon as she reached her, which required a little running through a thicket of Yache bushes.*

    "Grandma! Grandma!" She yelled again.

    "I'm right next to you, Cynthie, darling! What's wrong?" The old woman asked kindly, her voice gingerly, rough hands patting the little girl's head comfortingly.

    "Mommy's losing," The little girl said quietly, "One of the Elite Four knocked out Frosslass."

    Her grandmother grunted uncaringly and went back to working. "It was about time she came home, for once," the old woman kneeled down, knowning her granddaughter was still very worried, and put on her most caring tone possible, "I'm sorry about that, I think I was too harsh there. It's not that I don't care for battles," for a few seconds she switched to a joking tone, "Actually, I never did!"

    With a quick laugh, she relieved the tension, and then went back to her speech, her voice a little more grave, "I just want to see my daughter home again. I haven't seen your mother for much, much longer than you've even been alive! And remember, I'm old, and..."*

    She breathed out a little, not sure how to assess the next part of her speech, "And if I die, your mother would'nt give a passing thought about sending you to an orphanage. You know what that is, right? *the child nodded, looking off sadly and frowning a little* It's where they send little girls and boys who don't have parents, or grandmas."*

    Knowing the child's pain, she adopted a sweeter tone, giving her a kiss on the forehead with wrinkled lips, "But I'm not gonna let that happen, kiddo. Even if she wins and keeps us away from her until we both die. Now, let's go watch that battle! After all, it's not like these crops need to be harvested right now!" She yelled the last sentence in a joking tone, getting a laugh out of the little girl and scaring away a trio of thirty-something hippies who were smoking Yache leaves in an out-the-way corner of the field.

    Gible was still sitting on the couch when Cynthia and her grandmother walked in, the little girl eagerly dragging her compliant grandmother by the hand, and sat down. The battle was still going.

    "This is it!" The same announcer who had declared the defeat of Sofi's Frosslass boomed charismatically, "The Champion's recovered greatly since that crushing blow to Frosslass! We haven't seen such innovation from her since her initiation into the League, back when General Hellfire was Champion! Arceus rest his soul, he was a great man. Well, nostalgia aside, it's been great so far! After Abomasnow activated a snowstorm, it was almost shredded to pieces by Fereothorn, who took out Frosslass without a single denting! Of course, that Ferro also took a beating. Once Weavile took it out, Bronzong gave it quite a fight, even if it eventually was worn out by Night Slash! Skarmory's Drill-Peck-Steel-Wing combo got the best of Weavile and Cryogonal, but an innovative blitzing of ice and ground attacks from Mamoswine took down Skarmory! After that, Probopass' Pain Splits and Stone Edges made quick work of him, thanks to Sofi's overly agressive strategies! Of course, Walrein got a lucky shot via Sheer Cold, as usual, and took out that Probopass without a sweat!"

    The whole time, a B-Roll showing major parts of the battle played, with some dramatic music overlaying, and then it switched to live footage.

    "But, now, we are at a standoff against Sofi's Walrein and Snapper's Magnezone! If Walrein goes down, Sofi's left with Abomasnow, and Snapper will lose this exciting, monumental battle once 'Zone goes down! Remember folks, as a standard inter-E4 battle, no medicines can be used on fighters."

    Cynthia was completely electrified, *watching the television as closely as possible without blocking her grandmother's view, so she laid belly-down on the floor. The older woman was amused by her granddaughter's excitement, which was extreme to the point that Cynthia barely noticed Gible sitting nonchalantly on her head. Of course, she still had a deep feeling in her gut that whatever happened next would be of great importance.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Lily-of-the-Valley Stadium.

    Sofi scowled angrily and stared down her opponent, who smiled smugly.

    "Your *** is mine," he stated snidely to his opponent, "But in a figurative sense. I don't like my fish freezerburnt. And you know what I mean." Promptly, a large running shoe was thrown at his head, coming from the eastern corner of the stadium.

    Its thrower, a druken, hairy man, got up from his seat and roared, with a heavy slur, "There are children here!"

    The large crowd began laughing quite loudly.

    Snapper quickly got angry, "YOU MESSED UP MY SUIT, YOU DAFT BLOODY ARSE!!"*

    Sofi, who remained unamused, took advantage of the situation, which had distracted even Magnezone.

    With a few hand gestures indicating that Walrein use the move Hail. Walrein began shooting mist and ice particles into the air, which formed clouds, and, within seconds, wind, thus creating a massive snowstorm, for Abomasnow's had died out after Mamoswine took a beating from Probopass. A protective glass shield quickly went up around Walrein and Magnezone, as so no one froze to death, suddenly isolating and intensifying the snowstorm Walrein belched out.

    Soon, the storm was harsh enough so that one could just barely see Magnezone and Walrein doing battle on their own accord. Currently they were tied, with Walrein deftly dodging Thunderbolts, and easily getting in damaging Frost Breath attacks, which involved breathing large clouds of icy wind from the user's mouth at high pressures, often in the victim's face, which the snowstorm made much, much worse. Magnezone's mighty Magnet Bombs, electromagnetically charged clusters of air, were much more effective when the spread out by harsh winds, as Walrein could get hit by a Magnet Bomb while avoiding a Thunderbolt.

    "That was cold of you, Sofi." Snapper yelled from across the stadium, and, while she couldn't see him, Sofi knew he was giggling at his own pun.

    "My pleasure." Came the Champion's cold, smooth voice, the first time she had spoken the whole battle. As soon as she spoke, Magnezone smashed against the glass at Snapper's side of the stadium, and the snowstorm subsided, revealing that Walrein had won the battle. The walrus bellowed loudly, and the protective glass was lowered.

    The Champion, once again victorious, retreated Walrein and gave Snapper an honorary handshake.

    "Good job, once again." He murmured, not out of supressed rage, but simple brevity.

    Both fighters walked away as if nothing happened.*

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Celestic Town.

    An announcer came on the television: "This has been a landmark in battling history! Never before has Sofi faced such heavy opposition! Perhaps the next challenger of the Pokemon Leauge here on Lily-of-the-Valley Island will best her in the ring of honor? We'll find out soon!"

    Cynthia was dancing in pure excitement, hugging Gible, who still had the same bored look on her face as before.

    Her grandmother smiled warmly, but then quickly grabbed her granddaughter's arm and hushed her.

    "Look," she said, pointing to the television.

    A clip of Sofi ascending to a podium bristling with microphones was shown:

    "The Champion will now be making a speech."

    "People of Sinnoh," she began, her voice sounding icy and emotionless as ever, "I would like to announce today that I will be going on hiatus for a year to train my Pokemon. This battle today has shown me that I am not yet as strong as I can possibly be, so I have decided that I must return home, and make myself that way. In my place, during my leave, will be Elite Four member Snapper. Furthermore, I will be unavaliable for public interview during my training, which will officially begin at five o'clock in the afternoon of this day. Goodbye."

    She silently stepped down from the podium, and dissapeared as Snapper, thoroughly surprised, as fogged up glasses would tell, walked up to the podium, unused to being the one in the limelight, as a journalist himself.

    Cynthia's grandmother was crying tears of joy at the realization her daughter had come back home, and the little girl was intensely overcome with joy at the idea of meeting her mother at last.

    -------------------------------
    July 13, 2011.

    Dawn was scared. Her ride had just died, her love was probably very hurt. She had never seen this part of Orchid Island before, and her head hurt. And her favorite boots were wet.

    Whatever had killed Pidgeot had dropped her onto some random beach. Her first instinct was to amble into the jungle and look for something to eat.

    In the dark jungle, finding anything seemed impossible, so Dawn just laid on her back in the little grove, and bawled her eyes out. She'd rather be in the Distortion World right now than walk through the jungle in wet boots.

    Her eyesight wasn't used to the dark, since she hadn't gone in any caves for a while, so she couldn't see a foot in front of her. She didn't know if she had even moved, or if she was just too lazy.

    She'd move in the morning. Once her boots dried.

    ****

    Thank you for reading!

    Some little author's notes:

    Snapper = Austin Powers.

    B-Roll is a broadcast term for silent footage of something. In news, a voice is usually taped over said footage.

    Also, the phrase 'all the time in the world' makes its debut in Chapter II.
    Last edited by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb; 29th October 2011 at 3:11 AM.

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    Haha, so you finally have a nondisturbing scene for once - at least in Cynthia's childhood.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    Don't worry, Zek, I've already thought up a way to make it as horrifying as possible. Remember that Sofi was described to be cold and antisocial.

    Also, sorry for not posting this on ****Mon first, as promised.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    Don't worry, Zek, I've already thought up a way to make it as horrifying as possible. Remember that Sofi was described to be cold and antisocial.
    Not many people will know about Zekurom here.

    Also, sorry for not posting this on ****Mon first, as promised.
    Meh, it's fine. It would have been terribly egotistic of me to expect it to actually happen, even if you did promise it.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    Nah, I don't think it too egotistic of you. I promised it, anyways.

    Also, I've been thinking up some good ways for Frosslass to abuse Dark Pulse's psychotropic effects.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    Also, I've been thinking up some good ways for Frosslass to abuse Dark Pulse's psychotropic effects.
    Send somebody on a near death experience, perhaps.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    Quote Originally Posted by Dragonite Ernston View Post
    Send somebody on a near death experience, perhaps.
    One could also put them on such a bad trip that you could take advantage of the victim's deranged state to do whatever you want to them. You could make it seem like they had injured themselves in the gas-induced fear-frenzy, and whatever pain or sound they had felt was simply the hallucination.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    One could also put them on such a bad trip that you could take advantage of the victim's deranged state to do whatever you want to them. You could make it seem like they had injured themselves in the gas-induced fear-frenzy, and whatever pain or sound they had felt was simply the hallucination.
    That works too. 10char.
    I'm restarting Generation 2021 here!

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    Good story so far, though the herbs listed are.... interesting... an aphrodesiac, and libido enhancer...... lol, i wonder what grandma's doing


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    Quote Originally Posted by shadow_zoroark View Post
    Good story so far, though the herbs listed are.... interesting... an aphrodesiac, and libido enhancer...... lol, i wonder what grandma's doing
    XD I was'nt thinking about that when I wrote that part. They are centuries old, so perhaps they were just 'there'.

    Or, not. But, still, I forgot about the connotations of what I had written. Sometimes, the best criticisms are dissecting the little groups.

    Thank you for reading it!

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    XD I was'nt thinking about that when I wrote that part. They are centuries old, so perhaps they were just 'there'.

    Or, not. But, still, I forgot about the connotations of what I had written. Sometimes, the best criticisms are dissecting the little groups.

    Thank you for reading it!
    lol, well It's an extremely good fanfic, and i'm looking foreward to reading more


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    Well, as soon as I can get the next chapter finished.

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    I cant wait


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    “Well. I think you’d know. We live 20 feet away from each other anyways.” Dawn muttered, slightly annoyed. Ever since winning the title of Champion, she had lost all patience with Barry’s inability to pay attention for more than ten seconds, unless in the presence of a very attractive female; Dawn sadly being the only one who did not get this special treatment from him.
    "I need to help Cynthia..." The child murmured as Pidgeot angrily carked
    Capitalization isn’t necessary when the word after the quote (in this case, “the”) isn’t a proper noun. There’s a rule for this, but I’m not sure I can explain it properly. Basically, if the sentence after the quote is a separate thought, you would capitalize no matter what, but because “the child murmured” directly refers to the quote, it’s connected and therefore any word that wouldn’t be capitalized in the middle of a sentence would be capitalized right after quotations. You do this a couple more times as well.

    Pidgeot could'nt have had it worse today.
    They stare blankly, and open and close their mouthes slowly,
    "So, Miss Gible," she said in a sort of way that was almost baby talk as she went to get a bag of feed from her kitchen, "How long were you watching over me last night?"
    “How” should be lowercase since it’s technically part of the “So, Miss Gible” sentence.

    The first mistake was something you only did once, so I'm sure this was just a typo. Also, I think the semicolon should just be a comma since (and correct me if I'm wrong) "Dawn sadly... from him." isn't a complete sentence. Aaanyway...

    The prologue definitely got off to an interesting start. While I realize that one of the apparent hooks of this fic is the fact that you’re not afraid to delve into more risky, gross-out topics, I think you have to be careful that it doesn’t get too ridiculous, y’know? As it stands right now, your characters are pretty flat and the only emotions they’ve shown has just been in relation to their “special time” with each other (and yes, I realize this is just a prologue, but it never hurts to start that foundation early). Just a little focus on something other than pedophilia/violence/whatever could enhance the more shocking scenes (through contrast) and provide a balance for the readers (including me, honestly) who maybe aren’t as interested as reading something that surprises them in all the wrong ways as compared to reading a solid, well-thought-out fic with emotional depth that includes some disturbing (but realistic. This is important) pieces to keep readers interested.

    Not only that, but comparing the kids’ outside lives to the way they feel when they’re with Cynthia could really be effective in showing the audience the kind of relationship the three people have. Experimenting with Cynthia-Barry, Cynthia-Dawn, and Barry-Dawn could really flesh out all of the shades of each of the characters by showing them in different situations. Not to mention how each of them feels when they’re alone. There are so many emotions you could explore based on just the prologue alone, and I hope you get into them.

    Once again, though, I realize that this was just a quick beginning and all of this was written before I had even read Chapter 1, but that’s just my general thoughts of the story at this point.



    Your transitions from setting to setting are a little awkward and kind of pull you out of the story. Just a lack of the ------------- and using phrases to make it a more natural continuation (not like “Meanwhile, this place. 10:30 AM”) would help the story flow a little more smoothly.

    The scene with Cynthia speaking (or rather, thinking) to Spiritomb feels very bare. I mean, she’s communicating with the demon inside of her, one who, I assume, is trying to probe her darkest memories, and describing her body language throughout the conversation would make it feel less back-and-forth and more like a natural dialogue.

    The battle was good in the sense that it wasn’t just command-attack-retaliate-repeat. You used some of the attacks in fairly unique ways and as someone who normally isn’t the biggest fan of battle scenes, I have to say that you kept me pretty interested. However, the part where Cynthia was with her Grandma during the commercial break and then came back to find that like 80% of the battle had occurred during what seemed like no more than a minute-and-a-half conversation seemed a tad lazy. Not that every move in the battle needed to be described, but something more than just a recap might be nice, especially to include a few more instances of Sofi failing to meet her own expectations.

    Overall, aside from a few minor mistakes, you’ve got a solid vocabulary and style and it was in no way a difficult read technically. However, one thing that you absolutely must remember: shock value only works so often. Once the surprise is gone, the only thing readers will have to hold on to is the quality of your fic and as of right now, it’s a little jumpy and unfocused. I hope that you’ll continue to further explore the characters and not just their outrageous behavior, because there’s really only so many times you can up the level of craziness until it’s just not crazy anymore. I know that you pride yourself on writing these scenes, but when the amount of detail is nothing but an excuse to be “edgy” you have to ask yourself if it’s worth including at all.

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    Thank you, [I]:[C]!

    You don't know how much these reviews mean to me, even if I sometimes have to beg for them!

    Also, your criticism is quite dead-on, and I'm seriously taking your suggestions into consideration. I'm definitely not overloading on shock value, however.

    (also, I do realize the battle scene was rushed, but I didn't want to drag the chapter on and on showing every single part of it, so I bent logic towards the favor of character development)
    Last edited by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb; 24th June 2011 at 6:14 PM.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    Lime pedophilia
    Normally, this isn't my cuppa. There's a whole list of other questionable kinks on my list, but pedophilia?

    On the other hand…

    Demonic possession
    Violence
    SOUNDS GOOD TO ME! Let's do eet!

    A gentle sea breeze blew a giggling Hoppip across the tropical warm sea as they spied into the ocean, looking at titanic schools of Micrrow that swarmed the light turquoise depths of the sea.
    One of the things I've got to learn myself sometime but will mention anyway is that readers can pick up on repetition the author might not be fully aware of. For example, you've already described the sea as, well, a sea earlier in this sentence, so ending this thought with the same word gives it a sense of repetitiveness. It might actually work simply to say "the light turquoise depths," considering the reader already knows that this is taking place in the ocean. That way, you can avoid beating them over the head with that thought too.

    The creatures themselves were no more than a thirty-fourth-inch long, and looked like tiny fish with proboscis and teeny legs, and swarmed by the trillions before a couple of Wailords and their Wailmer children appeared from the depths, devouring them and making them scatter.
    Also, be wary of your sentence length. It's okay to end a sentence short, and sometimes, if you go on for a long while, the thought begins to feel like it's rambling. Take a look at how many times you use a comma and conjunction (and, specifically) here. The more you use it, the more complete thoughts you cram in before that period, so the sentence feels a little like it's forgetting what point it's trying to make.

    I'm also a little uncomfortable with the Micrrow because it took me a bit to realize they weren't canon Pokémon (like a mix of Japanese and English names – which sometimes happens if a gen is particularly new), so I'm keeping a sharp eye out on how they fit into the story. If they're just here to set the scene, that's probably gonna need a bigger rant.

    Hoppip lolled about in the air, fully entranced by the site of the scattering Micrrow shining beneath the waves, with the sun reflecting off their bodies, when a Wailord’s discharge of water shot high into the air and smacked the little flying ragweed into a rather rough thermal, which tossed its body about, smacking it into a pack of Altaria and Swablu who were posing as clouds to catch their prey.
    Yeah, this is the kind of thing I'm talking about, truth be told. You start off talking about the Hoppip lolling in the air and it gazing at the Micrrow. That's okay. Then, you talk about the sun reflecting on the Micrrow's bodies, which is also okay because that describes the peaceful sight Hoppip was checking out. But then you get onto the thought about Wailord blasting Hoppip into a thermal, and the sentence spirals from just talking about Hoppip looking at things to one about Hoppip sailing uncontrollably into a flock of Altaria and Swablu. It's a completely different thought at that point because it's no longer about Hoppip looking at something (or a description of what Hoppip sees) and suddenly about Hoppip sailing into something violent. You see what I mean?

    “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Hoppip screamed as it spun through the rough air, descending quickly to whatever it might hit.
    I'd suggest putting this in its own paragraph because technically, it's a line of dialogue.

    The half-dead Hoppip stared at Roserade, with a sleepy expression in its eyes. Roserade smiled pleasantly and sprinkled some sweet powder onto the Hoppip, who breathed it in soundly.

    Of course, then the little creature realized it couldn’t breathe out. Hoppip had been paralyzed. Now, the horrified little Pokemon could only watch in horror as the Roserade began dissecting its now useless body with her claws.

    After he was torn apart, Hoppip, who was now barely alive, was dragged inside the house by one of his entrails, which was bleeding green chlorophyll. The room was dark, for the windows had been covered by the shades, and an evil presence could be felt. Roserade picked up the nearly disemboweled ragweed, who now had nearly no skin on his body, and threw it into the air like a sling. From out of the darkness, Hoppip was snatched up in a pair of sharp-toothed jaws, killing it quickly before the beast swallowed it whole. With a roar, it shot a pillar of fire in the air, revealing its bipedal form and fin-like hands, dimly illuminated in orange light, standing out in the blackness.
    I do have to admit, I like the description of the violence here. It really sets up the kind of person Cynthia must be if her Pokémon work this efficiently and, uh, "support" each other by basically "putting other Pokémon out of their misery"… and then feed the results to each other. Not only that, but Roserade was particularly elegant here – smiling as she paralyzed Hoppip and continued to disembowel it. It's like the Pokémon themselves are sociopaths, creatures that not only live for killing but also think through each one, even the ones that just happen unexpectedly, calmly.

    Meanwhile, in a bedroom in same house.
    I do have to agree with [Imaginative], though. While I could swallow the other transitions (i.e., the bits where you told us where and when a scene was taking place), this one seems unnecessary, especially when the first real paragraph of this scene says pretty much the exact same thing anyway.

    She was standing on her knees,
    This would be called "kneeling."

    The woman didn’t change her expression or stance, but instead looked into the little boy’s eyes, her grim look freezing him into place, “I was just… watching you, Barry, my dearest. You look so precious when you sleep,” She said calmly, her voice smooth and cold, almost seeming to echo in the dark, empty room, “And you were such a good boy last night, so very cooperative.
    While [Imaginative] covered capitalization rules, allow me to run through punctuating dialogue.

    Basically, think of it like this: a line of dialogue normally has two different parts. The first part is the quote, which is the stuff you put in quotation marks. The second part is the dialogue tag, which is the part that describes who said the quote and how. (In other words, it's the he said/she said part.) Not everything is a dialogue tag. For example, everything in the above piece from "The woman" to "into place" is a complete sentence. Notice how there's nothing in it that indicates anyone is speaking? That means you need to separate it from the quote because it's not modifying it in any way. So, you should put a period there.

    Now, the part that is a dialogue tag is "She said calmly." Notice how it has said in that part? That means it's modifying (describing) the quote by showing the reader who said it and how. Now, looking at the end of the quote just before it, you'll notice that you put a comma after "sleep." That means that whatever comes after it is still technically part of the same sentence. Therefore, the dialogue tag that comes after it isn't its own, complete thought, so it should be treated as such. That means you shouldn't capitalize "she" because it's not a proper noun.

    Finally, when you go into a new part of a quote (as in, if you're going to be continuing on what the character says after the dialogue tag), you've got two choices. The first is treating it like it's part of the same sentence as the piece before the dialogue tag. The other is assuming it's a completely different sentence. To make things clearer, this is what I mean:

    Same sentence reads like this:
    You look so precious when you sleep, and you were such a good boy last night, so very cooperative.

    Different sentences reads like this:
    You look so precious when you sleep. And you were such a good boy last night, so very cooperative.

    In other words, to figure out which method you want to choose, take out the dialogue tag and just look at what's being said. If you want it to be read as two separate sentences, then you'll need to treat them as such. If you want them as one sentence, treat them as one.

    What I'm getting at is the comma at the end of the dialogue tag. With it in place, you're signaling to the reader that this line (i.e., what comes before and after the quote) is supposed to be read as one full sentence, which means that "and" shouldn't be capitalized. However, you also capitalize the A in "and," but this signals to the reader that these are two separate sentences, meaning that you need a period instead of a comma. So, it becomes a little fuzzy.

    I'm not quite sure if I'm getting the point across as successfully as I'd like, but let's just say that not everything in a dialogue paragraph should be punctuated with commas. If it's still a little fuzzy, this article outlines the rules and offers clear examples that should help you straighten things out.

    Barry blushed, and looked away a little, he felt awkward whenever Cynthia brought up what she called ‘special time’, or ‘time together’.
    Commas. They're a *****.

    First of all, I want you to do me a favor and replace the first comma and the word "and" with a period. Then, I want you to read both separately, right up to the second comma. Notice how you don't get two separate sentences as a result? That indicates that you're not actually writing a compound sentence; rather, it's just a dependent clause that doesn't need a comma at all. Note that not all instances of a conjunction (and, but, or, for, nor, yet, so) require a comma before them.

    Second, replace the second comma with a period. Notice how you do get two separate sentences as a result? This indicates that you've created a comma splice, a type of run-on sentence where two independent thoughts are married improperly through a comma in much the same way as what would happen if you left two drunk college kids in a drive-in chapel in Las Vegas with a priest dressed as Elvis. It's not pretty. So, what you'll have to do is decide which way is best to treat this thought. You can use a semicolon or insert a conjunction if you want it to be a compound, or you can use a period if you just want to leave them as two separate thoughts. It's up to you, but either way, yes, punctuate.

    11-year-old girl,
    Whenever you have a number from zero to ninety-nine, you usually should spell them out instead of using numerals. There's exceptions (dates, times, addresses, ordinals), but most of the time, yes, spell them out.

    HELLO DAWN” came Cynthia’s voice, barely as calm as usual, but instead a whirl of many other voices echoing upon each other, with a much louder one sounding vaguely like the Champion’s.

    “Mi.. Miss Cynthia?” Dawn mumbled, a little afraid of what she heard, “What’s wrong?”

    NOTHING DEAREST” Came the voice of ‘Cynthia’, “I’M PERFECTLY FINE.”
    I do have to say, I like how you characterize Spiritomb here. The creepiness comes across pretty well thanks to the all-caps and bold abuse.

    That's one thing I have to say about your work, really. While the language needs a bit of a clean-up, the characterization and the description (if separated properly) are actually pretty good. It was really amusing to read about Dawn's thoughts about Barry and then see her get a little on the jealous side, and the entire scene with Barry transitioning from calm to "oh ****" during Cynthia's transformation was pulled off with the right kind of subtlety that made him seem very human. (As in, he didn't notice right away, and slowly but surely, he began to realize that something wasn't quite right. That kind of slow-paced realization seems very natural.)

    “Something’s wrong with Miss Cynthia,” Dawn said, worried a little, “I’m gonna go to her house and see what’s wrong.”
    I don't know. Because you used "wrong" once already, that second time seems a little repetitive. On the other hand, she's eleven, and it's dialogue. So, it could just be something she would do, especially if she's not really paying attention to what was coming out of her mouth.

    Her face fully turned into what looked like a swirling mass of hair, similar to a galaxy of some sort, shining platinum-blonde but shaded a slight dark purple, with green orbs swirling in it that so resembled her strange, surreal eyes and mouth, the woman stood up to full height, caressing the large, dangling pendant between her breasts, which now had a strange design, two dots and a few stripes, glowing upon it.
    This is one massive run-on sentence, which is why it was hard to grasp. As a result, the effect that you were probably trying to achieve (wowing us with how creepy and ethereal this transformation was) is slightly lost because it's difficult to pin-point what this sentence is actually trying to say. I would recommend separating all of these fragments into individual sentences.

    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    The child murmured as Pidgeot angrily carked, having dodged a hapless Altaria with a cry that would translate to a cab driver in a crowded city street quickly getting out of his car and giving a reckless driver a middle finger and a "The **** were ya' doin'?" in his harsh Bronx accent.
    The image is amusing, but same story here. It could be even more hilarious if it wasn't a run-on.

    could'nt
    With conjunctions, the main thing you'll want to remember is that the apostrophe takes the place of missing letters, not spaces. For example, "couldn't" is actually "could not"; the apostrophe takes the place of the missing O.

    Meanwhile, same place. Outside of Cynthia's mind.
    To put it extremely bluntly, it's a little awkward to have the narration tell us that the scene that's happening right now is at the exact same place and time as the one that happened just before it.

    his conscience was assimilated into Spiritomb.
    I'm curious here. Did you mean "consciousness," or did you actually mean the part of a person that helps them differentiate between right and wrong?

    after poking a hole or two, which his small, limp body easily allowed for,
    I feel like this could be in its own sentence, simply because it's actually rather confusing as to what's happening. Poking a hole or two? At first, I thought Cynthia decided to stab him for no apparent reason. Then, I started thinking she was actually playing with some of his orifices and maybe indulging in a little necrophilia. If it's the latter, it's hard to picture what she's actually doing because, for all we know, she could just be sticking her fingers in his mouth experimentally instead of actually messing with anything dirtier.

    Or she could be poking holes in the suitcase, which is what this is technically saying on a grammatical level. (As in, it's a misplaced modifier because it's actually associated with the first noun before it – i.e., "suitcase.")

    their mouthes slowly,
    While I understand you're limited to using an iTouch, you'll want to be careful about proofreading nonetheless in order to avoid awkward spelling errors. For example: mouths. (There's also a point later on in the chapter where you use "knowning" instead of "knowing," "unavaliable" instead of "unavailable," and "dissapeared" instead of "disappeared.")

    about ten to fifteen feet (3 and 1/3 to 5 meters, for those using the metric system)
    I feel like this is rather awkward and unnecessary – almost patronizing to a reader. If you must use a height system that's universal, opt for something that's universal. As in, rather than give us exact heights, why not say "far out of reach for the girl" or something to that effect? Giving us height specifics actually gives us only a vague idea of how tall this shelf is because even those of us familiar with one type of system might not be able to conjure up an exact mental image of how tall three meters actually is. Then, giving us heights in a completely different measurement system comes off as the narration telling half of us that we're too dense to figure out how many feet fifteen feet actually is in the first place. :| So, either way, the narration ends up being slightly condescending.

    As a fun side note, fun fact: the average height for a story in a house is roughly eight feet tall. Ten to twelve feet is actually considered exceptionally high and comes equipped naturally with heating and cooling issues. The taller your ceiling, the colder it gets in that room. That's because all of the hot air rises to the top, far away from anything in that room, and on top of that, houses that have tall ceilings are usually older, meaning the heating system isn't exactly state-of-the-art, either. Assuming that heating technology in the Pokémon world is the same as in the real world, a tall-ceilinged building in the 1970s = COLD. And as for a fifteen-foot-tall ceiling, whoever designed that kind of house would automatically be an *** hole.

    as a retarded Bidoof.
    Normally, I'm not the most PC person ever, but I feel like there's just a better descriptor than "retarded." Resorting to using that word makes your work feel a little on the unintentionally crude side, truth be told. As in, otherwise, it feels like your writing trying to give off an air of class and seriousness, but "retarded" is just a word a thirteen-year-old would use, not an experienced storyteller trying to put out a story with an air of class and seriousness.

    The woman, who was at least seventy, was tending her garden of tall Yache bushes, which could be harvested to make potent, albeit bitter, medicines, and the berries they made were valuable for resident dragon trainers who were often faced with fighting ice Pokemon users, or ice attacks in general.
    While this isn't the only time of the chapter where the narration seems to ramble off in different directions, this is one good example of what happens when it does. Right here, you go off on a tangent involving what can be done with Yache Berries (and not even what the woman does with them), but what matters more right now is that she's tending the garden and needs to come inside. It feels like this tidbit of information isn't necessary at all and detracts from the main point of the paragraph.

    *the child nodded, looking off sadly and frowning a little*
    I'm not sure if this is an issue produced by your iTouch or what, but this should have a capital letter and a period, given that it's a sentence. You're also missing a quotation mark at the beginning of the next quote.

    Also, because I'm intensely lazy, I thought the exact same thing as [Imaginative] when it came to the recapping of the battle. I mean, this is a champion-versus-Elite-Four battle, which means that it's very unlikely that they'd be able to take each other's Pokémon out in the space of a couple-minute conversation.

    Otherwise, the battle was pretty interesting, although thanks to the issues with run-ons, it felt like some of the descriptions were a bit unfocused. But you probably get the idea by now, and the short of it is that it's best to read over those paragraphs again and try to see where you can fit in several more periods.

    11:45 PM, SUIST (Seviian-Unovic Island Standard Time).
    All time zones are abbreviated with three letters, not five. For anything involving Standard Time, this would usually take the first letter of the full name. Example: Eastern Standard is EST. Pacific Standard is PST. Mountain Standard is MST. In this case, it's likely that the abbreviation would simply be SST.

    Alternatively, if you want to use time zone abbreviations that can be understood worldwide, a better system would be simply stating the time in UTC, a system that merely counts hours offset from Greenwich Mean Time. For example, a place in EST is the same as a place in UTC-05:00, meaning it's five hours behind a place in GMT. Japan, meanwhile, is UTC+09:00, meaning it's nine hours ahead of GMT. In short, if you said 11:45 UTC+9:00, this is generally understood that the time zone is nine hours ahead of GMT.

    Of course, not everyone can remember time zones exactly, so a better idea would be to leave off time zone figures altogether.



    Overall, it wasn't as bad as this review makes it seem. Like I said, your characterization feels natural, and your plot is actually pretty cool. It's also clear that you pay plenty of attention to detail, so it's fairly easy to get into your world. Meanwhile, your descriptions set the mood pretty well and make each action that the characters take pack quite a punch.

    The downside, however, is that a lot of the time, you let yourself ramble. Some of that artistic description can be even more compelling and vivid if it didn't feel like your sentences careened from one point to another without much of an aim from period to period. Remember that each sentence needs to set out to start a goal, and once that goal (that fact that it's trying to get across) is achieved, you need to put down a period and move on. A lot of the effect you were trying to achieve was lost due to this, so I'm afraid that your story won't be as shocking and riveting as it really can be.

    Also, no matter what medium you use, you'll want to be careful about proofreading. Definitely look into punctuating and capitalizing dialogue as well as how to use commas because those were your two major issues.

    Once you clear both hurdles, you should be left with a pretty interesting story. I can't quite say it's outright shocking (although it may just be me), but I definitely see something here that could be fun to read.

    Good luck!

    REBOOT: Chapter fifteen now available. | Original: Chapter thirty-one now available.

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  23. #23
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    Understood.

    Thank you for the notes on what I'm getting wrong!

    I'm going in and fixing everything that you and [I]:[C] pointed out. It's time to beat this *****, time to beat it up good.

  24. #24
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    Alright, time to fulfill my end of the review exchange program.

    Quote Originally Posted by Sgeckledorf Spoongeblorb View Post
    I have'nt read more than the first half of the first chapter, and just wanted a review via review exchange.

    As such, I give you every right to dish out your harshest, most thorough criticism, which I will gladly take like a skilled prostitute blocking out a painful butt****ing.
    To make things fair I only read the first half of the first chapter (meaning the prologue), and so far it's not your average run-of-the-mill fanfiction. That is good.

    The problem is that you've already dissected a cute little Pokemon, which is a poor start. You seem to be going for shock value, and you'd have to get pretty morbid to top that!

    Also, because of non-existent character development and lacking description, it actually had no shock value. Had as much emotional impact as smashing a bug. Make the reader love every part of that Hoppip, THEN tear 'em off!

  25. #25
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    Ah, I see.

    It seems I do have a very robotic way of describing violent things. I guess it's because they don't really shock me, but I assume others will be shocked.

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