Post A Scene!

[AquaRegisteel]

[Mod note: thread is bumpable]

Well, I guess that this idea is a spring from my trickling mind.

The premise of this is somewhat simple. I aim to have this topic where writers can write up a scene they have in their head, and put it somewhere quickly.

As this has been advice to beat Writer's Block (writing up scenes), I think that this thread could be a wrecking ball in it's face, and could get many people out of it and back into writing.

Anyways, I'll begin, as I do have a large spot of Writer's Block right now:

Andrew stood motionless in front of the dull, dark tree. His friends had scootched off somewhere around the daylit school, as was customary for them. His long, luminating light red hair flew in the wind, his eyes wrought with a happy-go-lucky expression and his thick lips curled into a twisted smile. He was glancing down at his mirror, checking for any obvious "problems with his hair, preferring it to be perfection.

However, as he swivelled his head (and hair around), something rather odd popped it's head over him, and Andrew could see it in the reflection.
"What...is that?" He wondered, and whipped around, to see a robotic eye glancing down at him; a rather odd sight and a unusual sight in a tree of all places. "Holy sh-" He called, before the voice spoke. "Target acquired, locking attack mechanisms into sequence." It boomed as the eye disappeared into the bushes beneath the tree that was now peeling.

"Oh...OH...OH GOD...OH GOD..!" Stuttered Andrew as he realised exactly what was coming next, and screams were heard around the school as the tree peeled and shook violently, as Andrew stumbled a few meters backwards. The branches revealed a multitude of small guns and rifles, and the thicker branches turned into Gatling Guns. The main trunk now became a steel-hearted monster, as cold and as cruel as it looked. "WEAPONS READY, OPENING FIRE IN SIX, FIVE, FOUR..." It boomed, and he was pegging it past the building. "No, not inside, it'll blow it up!!" His friends yelled, and they were pegging it to the front of the school gates and out of there. "THREE, TWO, ONE, ZERO. OPEN FIRE!" It shouted in a metallic voice. Screeches erupted as bullets flew through the glass, blood spilled on the floors above. The group of friends had headed out of school, and were trying to run down to the Police Station nearby.

The red painted school could well be painted with blood, but out of nowhere a missile flew over their heads as it had passed through the school and hit a house, smashing it into flames. "OH MY!" Jenny screeched and sobbed immediately. A huge shock wave hit them as the explosion was obvious of that of the school. "How the-did it just explode!?" Josh called, and flames and smoke cascaded throughout the school that was once such the building. But Andrew fell to the pavement as his face scrunched up in agony, his vision fading into black...

Go! Beat it to the ground!

 

[ShadedSkies]

Normally I save these things for future chapters... But I've got a bucket full of them, so I guess I could sacrifice one if it gets the thread rolling.

Mewtwo is talking to an evil scientist,

"How dare you judge me!?" the scientist shouts and points his finger accusingly at Mewtwo, "You, who was born as a result of science! You, who would never let ethics halt your own experiments! You hate humanity, I hate Pokémon! We are so much alike, you and I!"

"No," Mewtwo responds with a sinister voice while using his psychic abilities to rip the scientist in half, "I have legs."

 

[katiekitten]

Figure this will work a little more interactively if I comment on the posts that precede mine. ;3

Aqua: I quite like the idea for the thread, primarily! On your scene - I must admit I love the word 'scootched', I personally love using more vernacular terms in my writing, particularly cute terms like this, especially when it corresponds with the personality of the character. It's a guilty pleasure of mine. :x I really liked your scene, though! The calm, gentle way you introduced it juxtaposed perfectly with the intense sudden violence that followed. I enjoyed it. x3 So sudden a development though, the boys didn't expect it at all, did they? Is this a scene from a 'fic of yours, or just an idea? :3

ShadedSkies: Short but sweet, seems very intriguing. Mewtwo's twisted humour at the end was delightful as well. :3

Was hoping writing this would spur me to complete the next chapter of Ember Days - but it seems I'm still more interested in skipping ahead xD At least I know where I want to go with it when I finally kick my behind back in gear? :3


He stalked her dreams.

She felt herself standing somewhere cold – outside, presumably, given the cool prickle of the grass beneath her feet - and when she opened her eyes she could see that hilltop again, the flames of the bonfires lapping at the edge of her sight, and the laboured breaths of the trapped growlithe hissing into the night. The rest of the world seemed muted, the brays and calls of the creatures around them merged into the faintest roar, their very forms melded into an unfocused blur. And her focus- it was always on him, the teal stag crouched low over Nathaniel as if he was merely securing his prey; proud, unmoving.

His gaze burned as it fixed her, the blood seeping from the corners of his eyes to wash over the whites and the irises, leaving only the pupil yawning into hers. She felt it flay through her as if she was laid out on a board, every ounce and inch of her out of display, completely at the mercy of the beast before her.

She wanted to run (but she couldn’t), she wanted to get as far away from those teeth and those eyes and the hate within them but there was the little boy, little Nathaniel, and no matter, no matter the cost-

He opened his mouth to speak, his voice rumbling through the air as she watched a thin tongue slicken thin teeth, sharpened canines glinting as the jaw flexed impossibly, slowly, around the human word.

“El-iz-a-beth.”

She felt herself shudder at the sound of her name from those inhuman lips, the hatred within it sending shivers down her spine.

It was not only from fear, however.

She remembered this later after she jolted awake, knuckles-white-grip latched to her comforter, pulse fluttering.

He was… beautiful.

 

[Kutie Pie]

@ ShadedSkies - That is flippin' awesome. It made me laugh.

Hmm, interesting. I suppose this can help, since I'm trying to get back into writing. I don't want to spoil anything, but I guess writing something from the middle of the story won't hurt...

Written to this music.

*~*~*

He just stood there at a distance, almost like he was waiting. He didn't know why exactly he remained frozen at the top of the hill, it was just that something caught his eye. It brought out a mixture of feelings in him just for laying his eyes on it.

She was alone in the middle of the field, knelt before what looked to be nothing in particular. Even at this height, Mewtwo couldn't tell what she was doing at the bottom of this one hill. They were nowhere near a place of any importance, and it didn't look like it was a grave. Something tugged at him inwardly to accompany her, though he hesitated.

That night a few days ago may have only made the rift between them worse, they hadn't talked to each other since. He shivered to reflect on it. He didn't regret it, though he wondered what he could have done better than what he did. Perhaps he had gone a little too far, but what if he had gone through with it in the end? Would she have rejected him more? What of the already-thin bond between them? What would become of it, of their future together?

Mewtwo suddenly stopped in place behind Mew. A small gasp escaped her as she swerved to look at him, her eyes widening when they locked gazes. His heart sunk; it was too soon.

She shivered, eyes dropping to the grass as her ears drooped. Without a word, she picked herself up and floated away. The clone took notice of the little tree sapling before turning to see her off.

He didn't have the heart, nor words to stop her, even when she glanced behind her shoulder at a distance.

 

[Phoopes]

@Aqua: There's something about this that I really enjoy. I can't quite put my finger on it, I just happen to like it.
@ShadedSkies: Bahahahaha! I'm always a huge fan of dark humor, and this was absolutely wonderful! I always imagined Mewtwo as the sort of Pokemon that would have a twisted sense of humor, and you encompassed that perfectly there.
@katiekitten: Ah, The Ember Days. It's good to hear that you're going to continue writing that. I always enjoy what you write, and that scene was especially good.
@Kutie Pie: Skipped over because I'm (still) not caught up on Forsaken yet. Though knowing you, whatever you wrote was bound to be good.

Anyway, the following scene is an excerpt from the one-shot I'm doing for the ongoing contest. I really need to finish this by the due date, but writer's block, hnnnngg. However, I think this is a pretty good part of the story that I've written so far, plus it doesn't really spoil the story too much. So here it is...

***

Mick sighed with disappointment, the sight almost sickening him. Dejected, he unhooked the ugly monstrosity at the end of his line. It was almost as if his fishing pole was a magnet for this fish Pokemon, and he was losing hope that he'd ever find his prize. Throwing the all too common sea creature back into the water had become a familiar habit for Mick, and the repetitiveness had put him in a trance-like state. To Mick, it seemed like the Pokemon was taunting him as it swam away, it's tail akin to a middle finger from one of his human brethren. As the sun sank low in the sky, Mick rebaited his line, and cast it out into the Hoenn sea yet again.

"I really do hate the sight of Feebas."

 

[katiekitten]

Kutiepie: Clannad <3! My friend won't stop going on about how good it is, but I will admit I agree with him. The scene was nice, even though I haven't read the rest of your 'fic.

Phoops! *snugs* Aww I quite liked your scene! Feebas ftw, his emotion came out quite nicely :3 I thought it was going to be a magikarp at first! It is good to see you around, I know I've pretty much disappeared for the past few months... again! xD How are your 'fics going?

The last of my posts for a while, I swear - I did end up beginning the next chapter of Ember Days, in the end, maybe this exercise was useful. x3 It has been almost eight months since the last update though... :x I never abandoned it completely, I've been writing bits and pieces for later chapters, keeping my interest up. Uni just eats my time... This probably won't make any sense out of the context of the chapter, to tell the truth, but it's a nice lil' examination of the character's emotions. :3



She'd even wondered about herself, as she'd paced through the dim-moonlight that lit the night away from the fires. If she was like them (those animalistic creatures with shrill human voices), then what was she?

The word 'monster' froze on her tongue only at the sight of Nathaniel's eyes glinting excitedly as he'd cast her a protective glance over his shoulder, the growlithe's enthusiasm still visibly high despite his exhaustion. Eyes filled with his anxiety, his hope, his will, replacing his lost energy to propel himself onwards for... her sake.

No. She would be herself, just like he was himself. She was herself, despite this all; this was all just a dream.

Nothing had changed.

 

[Knightfall]

I think this is exactly what I needed, because once I started writing the scene I couldn't stop until it was way longer than I intended it to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he struggled to stand amid the destruction, he looked out into the ruined chamber.
The great machine that once stood tall and proud was now replaced by a shinning white portal lined with blue fire that stretched from floor to ceiling.

From the dimensional tear the explosion created came forth creatures the likes of which he’d only seen in fairy tales: beasts that wielded fire, water, and electricity like it was the air they breathed, and dragons that flew and belched fire from their jaws.
As he stood mesmerized by the creatures that came forth from the portal, a orange dragon flew upwards to the window.

It eyed the destroyed computers and bloodied white lab coats of the scientists, and with out warning it let out a roar and a jet of fire shot forth from its mouth.
The scientist crouched behind a metal desk as the flames torched the other side; he felt the heat burn against his back through the metal.

When the dragon was finished with its display of power, the man summoned his courage and sprinted to the thick metal blast door which separated the observation deck from the rest of the facility.
he gripped the singed lever on the wall and wrenched it down, opening the blackened door with a screech.

The dragon let out another roar; it flapped its wings and flew through the shattered window at the man.
He dashed through the open door with adrenaline fueled speed. Once he was safely on the other side, he slammed the button on the wall, closing the door.
He smiled with satisfaction when he heard a sick “CRUNNNCH” from the other side of the sealed door.
But that brief feeling of triumph dissipated when he heard a muffled chorus of enraged, feral roars emanating from the chamber behind him.
My heart racing, he looked around the corridor. Then he saw it, painted on the wall in red letters above an equally red switch, the word “Security”.

The metal door behind him shuddered, another roar entered the air. The man didn’t wait any longer, he dashed down the hallway and grabbed the switch. Breathing hard, he pulled it down.

The bright ceiling lights suddenly flashed red, and the facility wide announcement system blared in alarm.
Within the span of a few seconds the sound many heavy-booted footsteps and automatic guns firing filled the research facility.

The man sighed in the brief moment of safety.
Violence was the only option he had to fix their collective mistake. He had to keep these creatures from escaping into the world above.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm honestly not sure what this is supposed to be, but I like it.
Maybe I'll write a short story for it or something after I finish the next chapter of my fanfic.

@AquaRegisteel Thank you for creating this thread, it's helped me a lot.

All of the other scenes were pretty good as well.

Knightfall signing off...;005;

 

[AquaRegisteel]

Thank you all for the great reception of this thread! It's honestly quite flattering!

Thank you katiekitten and phoopes as well. I just had the sudden urge of the idea (it isn't a story yet) after I saw a tree fenced off at my school.

I hope this helps people out of writer's block! Keep up the awesome scenes

 

[TylerPhoenix]

This is going to be a great help to me. Just to get myself started and share the beginning scene of my story.



My eyes flash open. Alert, I try and move, which triggers the next sense. Touch. The pain rips through my body, leaving me almost paralyzed. I can just about move my feet and hands, but what use is that? I'm lying on the floor. It's cold, damp, ...sticky? Where the hell I am, I don't know. I can't hear anyone, or anything. I need to move, sit up, even just move one of my hands. And it doesn't help that there is something weighing me down. A set of metal bars or something on my back, not heavy, just... stuck to the floor, I guess. I feel different too. My senses have improved, especially my sight, hearing and smell. Touch and taste may have changed too, but all I feel is the cold, damp, sticky as hell floor, and all I taste is a touch of blood, where i must have bitten the inside of my cheek or something.

I need to stand up, or sit up, but it's hard. After a struggle, forcing all of my energy into a tight push, my eyes closed and groaning from the struggle, I feel the sticky grip of the floor release me, and I'm flung into a sitting up position. Time to open my eyes, assess the damage. See what that sticky crap all over me is. Except I don't see myself at all. I see a white furry arm, with an armoured blue plate over my wrist. From underneath it, a white fur-covered hand, no, paw! I have claws and fur and a piece of armour on my hand. I think I could faint again. But I can't. All I do is scream. I scream to the heavens, and cry in rage and fear. I'm not a human. I'm a Pokemon/Human Hybrid. I'm a goddamn PokeMorph. But I don't remember anything about changing. In fact, all I remember is a glimpse of being dragged somewhere, and someone dragging me. in some kind of facility. I know is that I'm not in the facility, and I'm not being dragged.... Dragged. Where was I dragged to? Here? It could be, but I'm sure others would be here too, calling out in response to my scream. But there's nothing. Not one bloody thing. All I know is that my life has been flipped upside-down, dragged through a hedgerow, and changed. In fact, lose the 'change'. My life hasn't been changed, my life has been erased, and I'm now a Pokemorph. What could possibly make this day any frickin' worse?

 

[SilentMemento]

I have to say, this is a really good idea. Alright, I'll start off with a scene I've had in my mind for a very long time. It's the first time I've put this scene into writing, though, so I apologize if it sounds a bit odd:

-

Stoke finally saw what she was looking for: a well-hidden den underneath a tree. It was spacious, filled with light, and it contained an old nest made of grass. It would do nicely for the moment. All she needed was to stay out of sight. Her trainer couldn't spend much time searching for her; after all, the human had a deadline to meet.

The Growlithe snorted in derision. Her trainer and her Pokemon were complete idiots. The Pokemon on her team couldn't go one day without arguing with each other, and her trainer had an incredibly-short temper as well. Flower, the chosen leader of the team, was especially annoying; the Cacnea claimed to be the only one holding the team together, but she was way too self-absorbed to be a true leader. And she had the gall to claim that the fire-type was somehow worse than she was... Not that Stoke cared one bit about what Flower said about her; the gods could fill the whole sky with all the damns she didn't give about her so-called team.

Even the nickname that was given to her was stupid. Stoke...what kind of person uses a word like that? Nobody even knew what it meant, and yet the human thought that she was being so clever and original when she thought it up. What a fool...

As the Growlithe crawled into the den, she began to realize just how tired she really was. She walked over to the nest, lay down, and closed her eyes.

Maybe a bit of sleep might help...yeah, I'll just take a small rest and then I'll never have to deal with those morons again...

A small poke on the back of her scruff was the first thing that she felt. She quickly realized that she had fallen asleep without knowing it, and she felt a twinge of annoyance at the creature who disturbed her.

"Just go away," she whined, turning her head around. "I don't care who-"

The Growlithe stopped in the middle of her sentence when she saw the creature who disturbed her. Flower was standing right above her, and the grass-type had a frightening glare on her face.

Stoke let out a sigh and quietly muttered, "Son of me."

 

[Kutie Pie]

Phoopes: It takes place between chapters six and seven, so I don't think you had to have gone very far to read it. It's okayyyyy :3, I'm trying not to go over the current chapter. And that's a cute insert. It's funny, I searched for Feebas and caught a few myself on my brother's Pearl version (without permission fufufu).

katiekitten: Clannad FTW. Oooh, suspense...ish. I really need to read your story.

Knightfall: That was interesting. You should make a story around that.

Krazy95: Doesn't look like my cup of tea, but I think you got into it pretty quickly. Perhaps you could hold off on the identity reveal for a little bit longer in that chapter?

SilentMemento: I have no idea if that's from your current story or a new one, but I'm liking that Growlithe's character already.

Gonna post two scenes this time around. One from just now, and another from some time ago to a completely different story, that of the Higurashi fandom. (So I guess I'm cheating...) They're of pretty good length. I find it easier to write out a good-sized length before I get myself in a writing mood, though I've been getting interrupted a lot today, so I may end up writing out more scenes.

And I guess... spoilers this time.

Moar music inspiration (for first scene)

Second scene inspiration

*~*~*

Spoiler: extra scene

Mew felt it call again, but she remained at the window this time. She couldn't help staring at the dying fire, trying to wave off how distracting the tosses and twitches from some of the males were (Entei seemed to wiggle more in his sleep than awake). But she might as well watch them, anything to get her mind off the Tree and the inevitable battle that was to come. Though she convinced herself it was a way to memorize her friends without it becoming awkward; even then she wouldn't have minded it. The odds were very against them as the minutes ticked by. They were getting weaker and weaker even if they couldn't feel it.

But she knew. She understood the Tree better than anyone else. Their mortality wasn't helping in the least. She also wasn't very secure about their safety. Many of them were still recovering from injuries that would take longer than three days to heal--most were going to need months. Another factor was the immune system. They wouldn't know if it'll attack them or not until they get there, unless Legion altered it.

She didn't realize she was picking at her scabbed cheek until her hand was gently grasped and placed at her side. Her head dropped as she shivered, feeling her mate's figure behind her. "I'm scared," she murmured.

"I know, Myriam." Mewtwo placed his free hand on her shoulder, which brought a small sigh from her. "I am scared, too. We all are."

"...can you still feel it?" she hesitantly asked, wishing she could absorb the warmth from him.

"Yes. It is slightly more powerful than yesterday."

Mew took a shaky breath. "It's growing... we don't have time anymore."

"We still do."

She spun around with a leer only to soften up when meeting his concerned gaze. "No, we don't. It's do or die, Mewtwo, you know that."

He nodded slightly, maintaining eye contact. She waited for him to say another word before ducking her head and resting it on his sternum, just above the sling. His hand laid on her back, slowly petting. Mew closed her eyes. "What are you thinking of?"

"You tell me."

"No, you tell me. I'm not in the mood to read you right now."

"When are you ever in the mood?"

It was a teasing tone, but she found herself shuddering at a chill of longing. When she tilted her eyes up at him, she could see in his amethyst depths a familiar sight of desire. However, her heart knew none of them would go through with it even if it turned out to be their last night.

It was pointless to even dwell on it any further.

"Ah... it... doesn't matter..." Mew looked away, disappointment on her face. "Just not now. The world comes first." She fell away from him and turned for her side of the bed. "We should be sleeping. We'll have to plan some more tomorrow."

Mewtwo remained silent as he climbed in, shifting his weight to face her. She trembled when she slipped closer to his body, telling herself to change her thought-process and get over it. Inhaling deeply, she flipped herself around to face the wall, gradually relaxing at the feel of her back pressed to his torso. His good arm loosely slid under and around her, giving her a sense of security.

"Good night, Myriam," he breathed in her ear before craning his neck.

Mew's guilt got the best of her, though she vainly tried to hide it. "`Night..."

*~*~*

Spoiler: Gore warning

She couldn't stop running, doing so would result in her death. As much as her calves and lungs burned from being pushed to their limits, her survival instincts had the controls.

Rena stumbled past thick bushes and hanging branches the further she advanced into the forest. She would yank herself free every time her clothes were caught, the force ripping the fine fabrics apart. Some distance back, she had kicked off her heels, so her stockings were quickly wearing out. Her hair had previously been up, but was now unruly and fresh blood clumped it to her head and face. From behind, she was sure she could hear the hacking away of tree limbs, thus constantly reminding her her pursuer was armed. Every now and then, she'd scoop up rocks and chuck them behind her, not once hearing the sound of impact.

Her foot caught on a root, and she let out a yell tumbling down the hill. A precious second of sprinting now lost, she could only scurry backward and gasp at the figure emerging from over the mound. She vainly tried throwing rocks at the person once again, but as her fingers were trembling, her aim was off. “Go away!” she shrieked, eyes wide with fear. She found herself cornered against a tree trunk. “What do you want?!”

The shadowed figure stayed silent, and only continued to stride forward. The glint of moonlight off the blade of the cleaver—her cleaver—nearly blinded her. Curling up, she embraced for the end, hearing the footsteps come to a halt just in front of her. Whimpering, she slowly glanced up, hardly able to see the eyes that were hidden in shadow. Her heart thumped loudly against her ribcage, threatening to burst. Closer inspection showed there was something familiar about how they gazed upon her with malice, and yet...

Noticing the attacker hadn't once made a move for her, Rena dared to speak, despite her throat seizing up. “Why... wh-why are you doing this?” She shook her head and attempted to breathe again. “What have I done to you?”

There was a blink from the figure and the fist clenching the weapon tightened its hold to the point it started to shake. Then, like the hum of cicadas, the person calmly answered, “You did nothing. It was just meant to be.”

Without another word, the woman horrifically watched as the hand raised the cleaver and swung it down. The blade split apart her skull with a sickening crack and splatter of blood, sinking in deeply so it got stuck. There was a choked gurgle from Rena's throat interpreted as a scream, a twitch of the body as her eyeballs bulged from their sockets, and then she stiffened upon giving up the ghost. The person waited a minute longer for the light to fade from sight before slowly letting go of the handle. Blinking down at the drooling corpse slumped against the trunk, the violet oculars inspected the damage before averting their gaze, almost in disgust.

“It was always meant to be.”

 

[TylerPhoenix]

@Kutie Pie: The scenes you have shared are good. I especially like the bond between the Mew and Mewtwo. It's a nice piece of scene. If you get me. The second one, I'd change slightly. The detail is good, and gory, but I think there's something missing. I liked it, I just felt there could be something else, a little more impact perhaps?

Also, the scene I posted, I'm going to add a few comments in italic thoughts, and hold it off a little. It is hard to hold it off, due to the fact he sees himself as he sits up.

 

[Kutie Pie]

@Kutie Pie: The scenes you have shared are good. I especially like the bond between the Mew and Mewtwo. It's a nice piece of scene. If you get me. The second one, I'd change slightly. The detail is good, and gory, but I think there's something missing. I liked it, I just felt there could be something else, a little more impact perhaps?

Also, the scene I posted, I'm going to add a few comments in italic thoughts, and hold it off a little. It is hard to hold it off, due to the fact he sees himself as he sits up.

Thanks ^_^. The second scene is actually a prologue done like how the first season of Higurashi did it. I don't know if you've seen the anime, but at the start of a new arc, they'd show a scene that would happen sometime later (though one arc screwed with you for a bit since it didn't happen until later on in the season). When I do get to the story (and who knows when that will be), the impact should be there.

I see. Well, you can have it he doesn't notice what he's like when he firsts sits up. Perhaps you could have him struggle to his feet (unless he's on all fours, in which case he should struggle even more), and then he slowly notices changes on his body until he finds a reflecting surface. It'd help keep the reader intrigued and wonder what the heck happened to him.

 

[はるひ]

Here's something I had from the middle of a story:

The next evening, Cresselia was surprised when her servants told her that Giratina had come back, requesting to see her. She walked out of her room and into the living area, to see her one of her minions, Feebas, was handing the young girl a box of cookies and a glass of milk. She double-took at both Giratina and the blonde servant, and how she was dressed in spotty rags. She ought to make sure that she was dressed appropriately next time.

“Hey Giratina, do my servants scare you?” Cresselia asked.

“No way! They are all nice and gave me cookies,” the young girl replied with her mouth full.

“Okay. Anyway, I’m sorry that I don’t have anything else to offer but these cookies that Team Rocket has sold me not too long ago,” the goddess said as she sat down in her huge red chair. “I don’t really get many visitors.”

Normally, people don’t come to visit her, not even her own friends. In fact, the only one who even bothers to see her was her boyfriend but mostly during the night hours. To see this girl come back after being rude to her was very surprising to say the least. Cresselia then looked at her servants just hanging around and snaps her fingers twice. When they all turned to her, she waves her hand, as a signal to shoo them away. After they left, the girls proceeded to talk.

“So, what brings you back to my domain?” Cresselia asked.

“I wanted to see you and talk and be friends. I also wanted a tour of this place since there were some interesting statues outside. Oh and to have another battle,” the young girl said as she gave the goddess a cutesy smile.

Be friends?! the blonde thought. Cresselia and Giratina just met yesterday night, so how this girl thought that they could be friends was beyond the goddess’ thoughts. Also, Cresselia had a few friends at school, but all of them were weaker than her, more vulnerable. She would never make friends with someone who was a threat to her or to where she stood. Giratina was indeed a threat to Cresselia. She didn’t know what typing she was but she could only speculate that she was a dark-type and dark-types are her worst counters, right above what Cresselia calls their sister typing: the ghost-type. She hasn’t really trusted dark-types except for her boyfriend.

“What makes you think that we could be friends when we just met?” Cresselia asked as she raised her eyebrow.

“Well, you seem like you’re a nice person. I am very happy to have met you,” Giratina replied. “Will you please tell me who you are though since I technically won that battle?”

She won that battle? That only made the goddess very angry as she sat up straight in her chair. Cresselia doesn’t want to admit that Giratina was right, and losing to a mere child would only ruin her reputation as the strongest legendary Pokemon. With that, she had to convince the young girl that she didn’t win.

“Excuse me, Giratina but you did not win that battle, I did. I just used my energy to heal you. You were very lucky,” Cresselia snapped.

 

[AquaRegisteel]

This is the idea that I was editing into my last post, but it was wasted as my 3DS refused to save an hour's worth of work. WARNING! Slight violent language up ahead, PG13 for this:

Nik felt betrayed. Sure, he liked her. Sure, everyone thought so. But, the violent hatred churned poison that flooded his demented mind, his heart bared the putrid immunity to her. " 'One day' she said. 'We'll be forever' she said." Nik thought. His looks disguised a lavishingly untamed beast, ready to be unleashed upon the inexplicable 'wh***'.

"Are you OK?" Came the voice. His mind churned with venom, and shook Nik's body.
He was angered in sudden, as the voice was from Elle, the girl. The girl that tortured his mind. He was in two minds as he glanced up at her blue eyes, as blue as the evening sky, and her skin as peachy as the fresh fruit itself. The first thing he could do was bottle the anger, and release it spectacularly later on. But, beofre hesitation gave him the second option, he performed it. "Are you-" Came the voice of Elle, but harshly came the interruption.

"NO! I AM NOT OK. I HAVEN'T BEEN FOR AGES. I have watched you rip me to shreds, and break every promise I made to you and vice versa...it shows how much of an absolute cheating, mindless ***** you are, and you certainly are! I do hope YOU die in agony, and I hope everyone cries over your death, because you couldn't keep everyone happy. GOOD ******* BYE!" He ended with a yell.

The rest simply laughed.

That, was based on two things;

a) My current situation.
b) A song, Your Betrayal by Bullet For My Valentine.

I hope you all don't mind my violent worded paragraph, and thanks for the praise of this thread!

 

[Sid87]

Aqua: There's a misplaced quotation mark around "problems" at the end of the first paragraph, and I had to read the scene twice because I was confused as to whether he was indoors or outfoors (he was looking in a mirror, so I figured he was indoors, but then there was a tree. You could have maybe the fact that the mirror was a portable compact mirror or something more pronounced), but it was interesting!

Shaded: Brief, and to the point. Nice vicious snark from Mewtwo.

Katie: The description at the beginning of the first full paragraph is beautiful; absolutely marvelous. And what a curious scene. The scary monster with blood in its eyes is lovely to her? What could that mean? It makes me want to read more!

Kutie: Your Mewtwo doesn't seem quite like Shaded's. Heh. But that's such an intimate portrayal of the misunderstood pokemon's internal thoughts that it's touching. I like, of course, the contrast of Mewtwo not seeing anything important, but Mew kneeling in appreciation of a small life Mewtwo'd never notice.

Phoopes: I thought it was going to be Magikarp! I liked the line about the fin being a figurative middle finger.

Katie (again!): The last sentence of the second paragraph confuses me a bit. I dunno if it's the combination of the half-dash and the ellipses later? But it was hard to figure out. I think I stumbled so hard over that, I couldn't get a full sense of what was going on. Good brief opening paragraph, though!

Knightfall: I have no idea what's going on with the formatting there (why some lines are not separated by double-space, but others are), but it's a really good scene regardless. I like the moment the pokemon(?) come through the portal, and the description of how they wield their powers (although one does not necessarily "wield" the air one breathes, it still works for me); it really carried the tension of the moment.

Krazy: I think you gave too much away with the "I'm a pokemon/human hybrid!" bit. I'd have left the narrator struggling with what's become of him (her?) for a while. That answer just seemed to readily available to the narrator. The last line gives the story a hint of future comedy aspects, though. Is that the case, or am I misreading it?

SilentMemento: The "son of me" line I kind of met with a "wahp wahp" kind of bad joke sound in my head. But I loved the scene up to that point. Growlithe's character was really well established in such a small amount of time, and it created conflicting feelings of feeling bad for her, but also wanting to tell her to grow up. Very well done.

Kutie (again!): I found what I think are some mistakes. One line reads "The immune system. They wouldn't know if it'll attack them..." or something like that. Contractions in narration (unless it is first person) aren't ideal, but that's also a tense change. I think it should be "...wouldn't know if it would attack...". Also, in the first paragraph, you say "the odds were very against them" which works (don't get me wrong!), but I would say "...very much against...". It just sounds a little better. I REALLY like the back-and-forth dialogue in the middle due to your lack of dialogue tags. It was easy to keep up with, and it flowed very well. And a Mew/Mewtwo sexytimes relationship? That seems like an original concept!

Gothitelle: I'm...not quite sure what's going on. Cresselia and Giratina are young girls eating cookies that Team Rocket sells? It's original, at least! And Cresselia sounds like a jerk. It's hard to imagine Giratina as a naive young girl wanting to make friends, so that's an intriguing direction to go.

Aqua (again!): The first paragraph has a lot of quotation marks and half-quotation marks. I was having a hard time keeping up with what was a quote and what was a quote of a quote. The "His mind churned with venom, and shook Nik's body". Did you miss a "he" after the "and"? Or did his mind shake her body (he could be telekinetic; I don't know yet)?



All in all, I really like this thread! There was a lot of enjoyable stuff up there to read, and I think I will jot down a scene or two to add to the mix later on! It will almost certainly not be pokemon-related, so I hope no one minds; I could use the assistance more on my original works than the fic I'm working on.

 

[Cutlerine]

An excuse to post random scenes? Oh, fantastic. I so rarely bother to write these down, and this is an excellent way to make me record them.

Also, my apologies for the length; I really don't do brevity, and this got slightly more involved during the process of moving it from mind to screen.

---

"Simon! Simon, over here!"

Elm turned, and the Sentret in his arms snuffled inquisitively; he saw who it was, and smiled for the first time that day.

"Alan," he said warmly. "I thought none of you were here yet!"

He didn't bother trying to fight through the crowded hotel lobby towards his friend; he knew well enough that Alan Birch was strong enough to push past a hundred scientists in the time it would take Elm to get past five. He was a big man, broad, square and oddly flat; he was also older than Elm, in his early forties. Like him, however, Birch was ill at ease in crowds. He spent most of his time outdoors, on his own, and wasn't used to large numbers of people.

"We aren't, Simon," Birch said, somewhat confusingly. "I mean, I am, but no one else is. Nathaniel and Aurea aren't here yet."

"Is..." Elm lowered his voice and looked around furtively. "Is he here yet?"

"I hope not," replied Birch, shuddering. "Well, he might be, but I haven't seen him—"

"Then he isn't here," Elm said, relieved. "We'd know if he was."

"Right," agreed Birch. "Shall we find a corner? It's a bit squashed here."

It was, and so they removed themselves to an unoccupied corner to await the arrival of their comrades.

"I see your Sentret's doing well," Birch observed. "How're Emily and Adam?"

"Great. Adam wants to be a Pokémon researcher like his dad."

Birch laughed.

"I wish Sapphire wanted to follow me. Things are a lot harder without her help now."

"How old is she now?"

"Seventeen going on twenty-three," Birch sighed. "She's a Trainer now."

"Really?" Elm raised his eyebrows. "That's nice. At least it's Pokémon-related."

"Oh yes, I'm very proud of her." Birch beamed. "She saved the world last month."

"Really?" Elm would have raised his eyebrows further, but they were at their limits. "That, er, sounds... interesting."

"Apparently it was. She was travelling with this boy with a Rotom trapped in his head."

Elm shook his head and smiled.

"Trainers, eh?"

"I know," Birch agreed. "Always getting into— is that Aurea? Aurea! Over here!"

From the door, a pair of scintillating green eyes snapped towards them; their owner, a lithe young woman with brown hair and a Minccino on her shoulder, smiled the smile of the drowning man who is offered a rope, and hurried over to them.

"Is he—?" she began, but Birch was streets ahead of her.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Thank God."

"You can say that again," agreed Aurea Juniper, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "You know, I think the only reason he hasn't turned up in Unova yet is because of that Bisharp thing."

The Minccino on her shoulder leaned forwards and tapped Elm's Sentret experimentally; the latter Pokémon jumped, and a swift conversation of sniffs and squeaks passed between the two of them.

"I remember you telling me about that," Elm said, nodding. "To shreds, wasn't it?"

Juniper nodded regretfully.

"They never found enough of him to bury," she said. "But that's old news. How's Adam? I haven't seen him for – oh, it must be a year now, when you came to Nuvema on holiday."

"Yes," said Elm. "Well, he's fine. Growing up fast."

"You know what kids are like," added Birch cheerily; half a second later, his face froze and he swore. "Oh God, I am so sorry, Aurea—"

"It's fine, Alan," Juniper cut in, voice cold. "Just... leave it. Please."

"Yes. Sorry. My lips are sealed." Birch mimed the zipping up of his lips, and somehow managed to get the zipper tangled, despite the fact that it did not exist.

"So," Elm said, attempting to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Um, did you know that Birch's daughter's left home already? She's a Trainer now."

"Oh yes," Juniper said, snapping her fingers. At the sound, her Minccino looked up at her, waiting for instructions, but none were forthcoming and so it went back to conversing with Elm's Sentret. "I remember that. Didn't she help save the world or something?"

"Yes," answered Birch proudly. "Her mother and I are very proud."

"Oh yes, how is your wife, Alan? I heard she had a relapse?"

Birch nodded gravely.

"She met someone who shouldn't really have been able to exist," he said. "She started counting again after that. But she'll be home soon."

Elm sighed understandingly. He knew all about Birch's wife. She had a rather severe obsessive-compulsive disorder, and also – it was feared – mild schizophrenia.

"At least she's coming home," he said. "That'll be something."

"Yes," agreed Birch.

"And your wife, Simon?" asked Juniper. "How's Emily?"

"Oh, fine," Elm replied. "Very normal. Probably trying to get Adam to eat breakfast right now." He smiled awkwardly. "Sorry, we're not very interesting."

"No, that's good," Juniper replied. "Interesting families are hard work, you know. Have you ever tried stopping my dad from – is that him over there?" She glanced off into the crowd. "I'll be back in a minute. I need to say hello."

She slipped off, her Minccino rapidly squeaking out a final comment over her shoulder; Elm's Sentret replied with a tremendous sniff that almost caused it to inhale its owner's tie.
"Nathaniel!" cried Birch suddenly. "Nathaniel, over here!"

An old man who held himself very straight had appeared in the doorway; he carried a briefcase and a stout stick, and wore a suit of bright yellow and purple with a top hat. This, combined with the extraordinary projection of his moustache, beard and eyebrows, gave him the look of a moderately powerful wizard.

"It's been too long!" cried this apparition, sweeping over to them with an air of the carnival. "Ah, it has been far too long!"

"It's good to see you again, Professor," said Elm, shaking hands with him warmly. Old habits were hard to shake, and he had once known Nathaniel Hastings as a lecturer at university.

"And you, Simon, and you," replied Hastings, removing his top hat, checking the inside for traps and tucking it under his arm as he shook Birch's hand. "You too, Alan." He looked around. "Is Aurea here yet?"

"She is," confirmed Birch. "She's just gone to say hello to her dad."

"Ah, Cedric!" said Hastings, nodding, smiling and twirling his cane all at once. "Capital fellow. I remember him well." A thought seemed to strike him then, and he leaned closer in. "What about... well, what about him?"

"No," Elm replied swiftly. "Not here yet."

"Usually, I disapprove of tardiness," Hastings mused, "but in his case, I'm willing to make an exception. Ghastly chap. I recall when he turned up in Fiore. Terrible business."

"To shreds, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Hastings stared into space for a moment, and shook his head sadly. "The wife too, you know."

"To shreds?" queried Birch.

"Yes. Awful." Hastings shook himself from his reverie and smiled warmly. "But that's quite enough of that, my dear fellows. How are your families? Holding up well, I trust? Alan, is your daughter thinking of becoming a Ranger?"

"You won't get her that easily, Nathaniel," Birch replied, wagging a reproving finger. "No, she's already a Trainer. She saved the world."

"Is that so? Good grief, it seems that all the children I used to know are grown up and saving the world now. Hum. How time flies. Ah, Aurea!"

Greetings were once again exchanged, and the conversation was just about to get underway again when someone started shouting for silence.

"We're sorry, but our keynote speaker hasn't arrived yet and may not actually arrive this morning," they were saying. "We're going to have to put off the main speech until later. For now, we'll just have the second speech first, which will be in conference room B..."

"Who's speaking?" asked Birch. "Is this the one on Golurk construction?"

"No, it's Rowan on theories of evolution," answered Elm, looking at his list and sighing. His wife had given it to him after he lost the original. He was, he reflected, very good at losing things. If it had been an Olympic sport, he could have represented Johto and brought home gold every time.

"I wonder if he'll have changed the speech this year," sighed Juniper.

"If we're lucky, he might have a different slideshow," Elm said. "Come on, we should go. It's not like there's anything else to do."

"Where's conference room B?" asked Hastings. "Nothing seems to be signposted here. I've a mind to complain."

"Let's just follow the others," Elm said, watching the rest of the lobby's occupants file out down a corridor that had previously gone unnoticed. "They seem to know where they're going."

The four Professors followed their colleagues along the corridor and into a large room where a stage and a large quantity of chairs had been set up. An old-fashioned slide projector was set up on a small table in the middle of the room, and an old man in a three-piece suit was fiddling with it and muttering to himself.

"Oh, hell," muttered Birch to Elm. "He's still using one of those?"

"You didn't seriously think he would have changed, did you?"

"I'm very probably older than him," Hastings said with dignity, "and I can beat my graduate students at Halo. No excuse not to keep up with the times!"

"Nathaniel," Juniper said, as the four of them found seats near the middle, "you learned how to program a 3D0 console just in case they succeeded. You don't keep up with the times, you slap them to the floor and kick them into submission."

At that moment, Professor Rowan took the stage and called for silence; unfortunately, the resultant hush coincided with Birch laughing uproariously at Juniper's comment, and drew about two hundred unwanted stares from the surrounding scientists.

"Sorry," the big man whispered, looking abashed and somewhat two-dimensional.

"If we're all done?" Rowan called, and Birch shut up like a beaten schoolboy. "Thank you."

He might have been old, but he carried himself rigidly, like an old soldier; even indoors, he didn't remove his trademark flowing trenchcoat. He looked like a 1940s noir detective had been thrown hard at a retired major, and the two had hit each other with enough force for them to fuse into a single person.

"Hello," Rowan said, clearing his throat. "It's so very nice to see you all." He paused. "We humans live alongside Pokémon as friends. At times we play together, and at other times we work together..."

---

 

[Mrs. Lovett]

Apart from Roots, I have two other story ideas that I'm itching to write, but for some reason I can't get the scenes out of my mind and into words. My mind's just so locked in my current fanfiction that it's hard to break away and write something else.

This particular idea is one I've been tossing around like crazy in my mind. One day I think it's good, and another day I think it's terrible. xP At any rate, here's one of the scenes that I consider 'good' in terms of meaning. But I'll let you be the judge...

Warning: Brief swearing.

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

In her family, Rena Bradford was often referred to as the Rusher, the girl who just couldn’t sit still. As a child, she would often switch without warning from one activity to another, running her parents in circles trying to keep up with her. She would bore quickly but tire slowly, throwing out old toys for new ones, then switching back only weeks later.

And childhood reputations have a way of sticking.

Rena was running across the sidewalk now, her limbs working tirelessly, her messenger bag bouncing against her thigh. The trees and houses slipped past her and she let them, for there was only one thing that mattered among them.

She turned into Sadie’s driveway, hopped up to the front door, and knocked.

It was not Sadie who opened the door this time, but her mother Katherine. Her hair was dull and flat, and she looked down at Rena with tired eyes. “Hello, Rena.”

“I’m here to see Sadie.” Rena began to step inside, expecting the door to widen as it had always done, but this time Katherine held it back.

“Sadie hasn’t been feeling well this week,” she said. “I don’t know if it would be a good idea for you to see her now.” Her nails tapped the doorframe nervously.

“What do you mean? She’ll want to see me.”

After a moment's consideration, Katherine moved aside, though Rena didn’t miss the reluctance in the gesture. She thought nothing of it for the time being, and made her way up the steps.

The door to Sadie’s room was closed, though light sifted from under her door. Rena pushed it open gently.

“Hey Sadie, can I—” Rena began, but her voice caught in her throat before she could finish. As she peered into the room, she was gripped by a sudden, unexplainable dizziness, which grew worse as she ventured inside, placing one foot after the other. Coming halfway to the bed, Rena felt herself swoon, and leaned against the wall for support.

Sadie didn’t notice. She was lying in bed, still in her nightgown, but she didn’t look sick in the slightest. Strands of black hair hung over her shoulders and the pillow, blocking one half of her face from view. Her skin had grown noticeably pale, and the sight of her somehow stirred an eerie, unfriendly air. The whole room gave off the feel of choking, which spurred a brief panic in Rena’s chest.

But what made her stare were the books. Sadie was completely swamped in them. They littered the room like sprinkles on a cake, pushing the usual decorations back into dusty corners. Some lay half-read in piles, squares of neatly-cut paper sticking out of the pages to mark an unfinished trail. They were in the drawers, on the shelves, and where there wasn’t any room, spilled right out onto the floor.

Rena looked around the cluttered room, her eyes like saucers. “What’s with all the books, Sadie? I knew you were a bookworm, but I never thought it was this bad!” She smiled at the joke, though deep down, she was also the tiniest bit nervous.

Something was different.

Sadie, meanwhile, had barely flinched. Her eyes were in a book, one of many, her fingers gripping the dusty cover. Her expression was detached, that of a seasoned reader, as if she had been staring at it for hours.

“Are you okay?” said Rena again. “You mom told me you were sick.”

Sadie lowered the book. Her head rose slowly, and Rena found herself thinking of rusty hinges. The voice that answered was quiet, distant. “I’m not sick.”

Rena found herself looking down, locating the chain around her friend’s neck. The gem had rotted away entirely, leaving just a few red flakes in a nest of corroding silver. It looked nothing like the beautiful jewel that had received such praise and protection over the years.

As she looked at it, her voice emerged in a faint whisper. “What happened?”

Sadie shook her head, though her eyes never seemed to leave the opposite wall. “I’m fine.” In that second, something returned to her face that hadn’t been there before. Faint dabs of pink appeared on her cheeks, and a smile cleared her deadpan stare. “Really, Rena. I am.” But the change was brief. When Sadie's gaze fell on the book again, her face reverted to its former state, and she turned a fragile page.

Rena took a breath, and it felt like she was struggling against invisible cords that were wrapped around her chest. She sat down on the bed, looking down at her knees.

“Well, anyways, I wanted to tell you something,” Rena began. Sadie didn’t respond, so she went on. “There’s this guy in town who sells jewelry. He’s an expert on gems and rocks, and he can tell you the value of pretty much anything just by holding it in his hand. So I showed him the rock we found the other day, and you know what he said? Guess.”

Sadie shifted, and the bed creaked. She read on.

“Come on, guess," Rena said.

Still, Sadie's eyes did not leave the book. Rena rose, her previous fear lost in a rush of anger, and snatched the book from Sadie’s hands. Sadie looked up in horror, as if Rena had pulled away her lifeline. Her eyes narrowed.

“Give it back.”

“Not until you listen! I didn’t come over here so you could just sit there and pretend I’m talking to a wall!”

“I AM listening to you!” Sadie yanked back the book with surprising strength. “Me not having my eyes on you all the fucking time doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention! You want to barge in on me while I’m reading, you can learn talk to me while I’m reading. Or maybe, you can learn to not bother people, for once, and do something useful with yourself!” She pulled open the book, landing right to the page she had been reading before, and sank back into the pillow.

Normally, Rena would have verbally slapped someone unfortunate enough to sass her, but all she could do now was stare in shock. It wasn’t the tone or words that surprised her, but rather whose mouth had uttered them. Sadie’s face had changed again, going from kind and innocent, to the face of a girl who meant harm, who smiled at sorrow and laughed at pain.

For a second, Sadie’s eyes had gleamed as red as her ruby necklace.

The sensation of choking returned, and this time, it hit Rena with full force. A chill gripped her spine, making her stiffen, and Rena staggered back instinctively towards the door. Her voice was barely audible.

“... Fine.”

Standing in the middle of the doorway, Rena jammed her hands in her pockets and left the room.

When she got outside, she began to run.

 

[SerenadeSP]

I've had this idea for a MegaMan.EXE fic for a while, but lost motivation for it somewhere along the line. The story is meant to be a rehash of MegaMan Battle Network 4, which had decent gameplay, but the plot was atrocious. I planned on fixing that, without making it groanably predictable (or, at least, trying not to XD).

~~~~~​

Shadows cascaded over the ‘net, flowing over the platforms designed (and forgotten) by humans so long ago. A black-armored NetNavi trudged along his path in an apparently drunken state, unaware of his situation.

It had been three weeks since he began his quest into the darkness; a quest where he had abandoned his human Operator (what was his name?), and had savagely deleted several of his fellow NetNavis (they were too weak to live…), all because of the inner voice inside him that told him to do so.

He no longer relied on BattleChips like most other NetNavis did – he would call upon the voice inside him to give him weapons instead, and the voice would gleefully supply them. He would never speak to anyone else again; the voice inside told him he did not need others to survive, that he only needed power to survive.

And so, here he was. Three weeks later.

Alone.

His quest led him to deepest depths of the UnderNet, where the vilest of Navis would live, very rarely returning to the ‘SurfaceNet’, as the UnderNet Navis would call it. The voice inside told him to follow the trail of power he sensed nearby, and then everything he wanted would be his.

The Navi found himself at the bottom of a ramp, staring at it, waiting for permission to proceed.

Go, the voice told him, go and delete everything in sight!

The Navi smiled dizzily. He had been told this order before, but not in a long time. He asked the voice for a sword, and a glowing purple blade materialized, attaching itself to his right arm. He climbed up the ramp, readying his blade for battle; when he reached the top, he saw nothing except a grayed statue. He lowered the blade, yet he still remained cautious.

“Hmph. Another piece of scum.”

The Navi shook involuntarily, jerking his sword-equipped arm near his chest. He looked around belligerently, saw nothing again. It wasn’t the voice inside him speaking this time, yet it resonated throughout his soul. His senses tingled, forcing his eyes to fall upon the statue.

The statue’s eyes glimmered under its finned helmet.

“What does a weakling like you want?”

The Navi approached, keeping its sword close.

I seek the power held within the Murklands, the voice inside him said. It is rumored that you hold the Keys to the Black Earth.

“The Black Earth?” The statue’s voice echoed. It laughed, sending chills down the Navi’s spine. “I do hold the Keys. But do you hold the DarkSoul capable of defeating me?”

I am more than strong enough to defeat you! the voice yelled, scaring the Navi a bit. This vessel holds the strongest DarkSoul this side of Netopia!

“Netopia? …Please.”

Vessel! The Navi felt his arm rise by itself, holding it above the statue’s head. Destroy the statue and get the Keys! Then the power you seek is yours!

“Geheheh…”

Just as the Navi swung his sword to slay the statue, a ripping pain seared across his body, no, his soul. He fell to his knees; the sword attached vaporized into numbers, transforming it back into a clutched hand. He braced it against the ground. The pain pulled upward, yet gravity dragged him down.

“Your DarkSoul is pitiful. Be gone.”

The Navi flung his head to heavens, screaming as his body deteriorated from the inside out. He could feel something crawling throughout him, eating his core program like rapid insects. The voice inside screamed as well, but soon it gradually faded along with the rest of his soul, and then the body dropped to the ground.

The statue laughed, though no one could hear him besides those he had consumed.

Alone it would sit, with the body of the dead Navi in front of it, for all eternity. No one could ever revive him again – he was nothing more than an empty shell.

 

[SilentMemento]

Sid87 - Huh. That was intended to be the funny bit...oh well. It just tells me what I need to improve on, so thank you very much for your help. And yes, Stoke really needs to grow up.

Cutlerline - That was seriously awesome. Having all of the professors - and a few hundred nameless scientists - attending a seminar of Oak's (I'm assuming that Oak is the main speaker) is surprisingly realistic. I loved the interactions between the professors. I loved the reference to Halo. And the last two lines won me over completely.

Mrs. Lovett - That's actually a bit creepy. I can see a few demonic themes to it, to tell you the truth. It looks like a good bit to add to a story with slight horror themes. I particularly loved the attitude of Rena. She's a child who doesn't know any better, but it's obvious that she's very close to Sadie (who, by the way, scares me. A lot.)

Okay, I'm going to try another excerpt (this time, from a long one shot I'm working on...yeah, I have way too many things that I'm working on.):

-

The burning city of Rustboro had been stretched to the breaking point in the span of a single night. Firefighters were still trying to contain infernos created by a potent mixture of powerful fire-types and excessive quantities of gasoline. Panicked EMTs scrambled to bring the victims of the violence to nearby hospitals. Police in full riot control gear were desperately trying to arrest the many rioters and looters that had come out of the woodworks. The high-pitched whines of sirens and the harsh barks of gunfire echoed in the dark as a city that had been nothing short of idyllic a mere five hours earlier devolved into a horrifying nightmare.

Out of all of the chaos, a single man calmly strode down one of the few peaceful streets. He was clad in tan hiking boots and a black wetsuit that fit his tall, sinewy figure well. However, they weren’t the most striking part of his appearance. His head and neck were covered by an obsidian-colored military-grade gasmask that gave off an intimidating aura.

The man, knowing that the job he was ordered to do was almost over, allowed himself the luxury of a cruel smile. It was funny how eleven men could hold all of the power in one region. Now they were all dead, and nothing could be connected to him. The only thing left to do was make a phone call.