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The Beta House: Redux

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Crystal Hikara

Your Local Art Nab
Story title: Blazing Trail
Fandom: Pokemon
Plot summary: Breaking the chains that bind down himself may mean Yainei has to break something else in return.
Genre: Tradegy
Rating: PG-13
Mentor needed: Comprehensive, though someone speciallizing in tragedy would be awesome.
Prior writing experience: Uh...good question. 7 years seriously writing stories, I guess...?
Preferred mentor: n/a (Act, if he's up for it, I guess?)
Writing sample:
Memories flooded back dangerously for the majestic fire type sitting on the peak of his new home. The slings and arrows of his own child and wife he had to leave behind so long ago clouded his vision. He’d never touch his love or his baby girl, his cherished life he helped create, again. The way she smiled was the sun’s rays bursting through a particularly violent storm, encompassing all with her warmth and love. But, soon the clouds swallowed up the sun with death. He had done his duty, and now had to live with his sacrifice that he and his two other comrades made so long ago in the mine. He shook his head, as though to deprive himself of the depressing thoughts. This was no time for being sorry on himself. There were visitors; he had to at least greet them, and see if there wasn’t anything he could do for them.

The girl’s figure inched ever so nearer, and perhaps seeing through the volcanic fog and making out his image, she quickened her pace. His ears finally heard her voice, riddled with coughs and labored breathing. Swiftly, and feeling quite concerned as a past father, he fully rose to his feet. The wind caused by the heat clashing with cooler air down the mountain combed through his fur, over his back particularly. The fur on his back, protected by jagged plates that symbolized the mountainside he slept upon, was pure white like the smoke caused by water meeting a fire. Even moreso did she press on, staggering more and more. Her breathing problems became heavier a burden on her. The Meowth mewed and yowled in discontent of her pushing herself so heavily, but now instead of trying to comfort the cat, she ignored him and pushed on with her tired steps.

Finally, she was before him. Somberly he gazed down upon her, locking eyes. Her gentle yet determined orbs of a brilliant gold within a shell of emerald seemed endlessly relieved at the sight of Yainei. Bags underneath the lively eyes spoke of sickness, and her eyelids threatened to slam shut at any moment. Her pale lips curled up into a pure, unbelievably pleasant smile, despite the pain she seemed to be in. She choked on the oxygen-deprived air, but still held her grin, before she spoke so quietly.

“Entei…I’ve finally…got…to meet you…”

(I am going to be editing the first part of the story, but I do want help/advice with tradegy, given it's all gunna come crashing down in the last part. >3)

Also, lolwhut Enigmatic Star is still up there? Can you remove that ancientness that's been dead for over a year now? X3
 
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Lucario7777777

A Jesus Freak
Mentorees:

Story title:Lucario and Lickilicky's Adventure-Blue Version
Fandom:pokemon and various other fandoms combined
Plot summary:Lucario and Lickilicky go on an adventure, meet some people, go around to different planets.
Genre:Adventure? [sorry, I don't really know the genres that well]
Rating:G?[i don't know the ratings that well]
Mentor needed:comprehensive mentor
Prior writing experience:I don't know what to put here
 

IJuggler

how much words
I'd like to apply to be a Mentoree.

Story title: Steel
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon
Plot summary: Jon is beginning his adventure with little more than a Croagunk and a Pokedex to his name.
Genre: Adventure/Journey
Rating: PG-15
Mentor needed: Comprehensive
Prior writing experience: Minimal
Preferred mentor (optional): None.
Writing sample (optional, but expected):The prologue for Steel.

The golden yellow walls of the President’s room in the Silph Co. building reeked of an expensive owner. The president, however, took no notice of them at the moment. There was someone running up the stairs leading to his office (and quite loudly, at that), and he finished up signing the paper he was currently reading before putting his hands together and waiting for the person to reach his door.

There was a loud knocking, before the president allowed the man entrance.

The scientist who opened the door looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else. “Sir, I think we’ve found something you’ll want to know about right away.”

The president of Silph Co. frowned. “What is it?” He leaned forward in his chair to better hear the out-of-breath man.

The scientist gulped deeply, and started his explanation. “Sir, do you remember the material we found and used to make Poke Balls?”

He nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, go on.”

The man was nervous; he was fidgeting with the paper he had ran up with. “We figure that there is only enough of it left to make a few thousand more Poke Balls, before the whole deposit is used.” He looked at his feet, fearing his boss’s anger.

The president of Silph Co., however, had gone sheet-white. His eyes flickered back and forth, before they stared sharply at the scientist. “I understand. You are dismissed.”

The worker, after placing the paper lightly on the president’s desk, left as politely and quickly as he could. He would not be drawing straws with the rest of them the next time there was bad news.

The president shakily held the paper, and read the news that would surely crush him.

After he finished, he put the paper off to the side and pulled out a new piece of paper. It wasn’t just enough that his family had died in a tragedy just weeks ago; but now his business was also failing him.

Writing the note had calmed him, however. After leaving the note on his desk, he slowly walked out of his building, oblivious workers greeting him politely as he got off the elevator. He walked home in the bright sun, and leisurely pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket.

The mess in the president's kitchen would go unnoticed, until a day later when the local police found his brains splashed on the ceiling like paint.
 

Aura Master

Smell of Success
Story title: Trinity (not out yet)
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon
Plot summary: After a unplanned encounter, Jacob is sent out to Kanto from his home island of Kendar, to retrieve three orbs (the Trinity) from the Legendary Bird's homes. He has to bring the orbs back to Whirl Islands before the Shadowcasters, a small group of villians who specialize in Dark Magic (not organization), turn the Trinity on the world controlling the three legendary birds. Jacob has to complete tasks to retrieve the bring them back to safety before they fall in the wrong hands and hell breaks loose.
Genre: Adventure
Rating: Pg:13
Mentor needed: Comprehensive
Prior writing experience: Just a bunch of crap that wasn't very good writing.
Preferred mentor (optional): Doesn’t matter.
Writing sample (optional, but expected):

(A flashback in the second chapter I wrote):


A boy sat on a curb of the streets, alone by himself. No one else was there besides his mother, police and his father. His head hung on his hands, dark brown hair hanging over his eyes hiding them from the scene. He was clueless, very clueless. All he knew was his mother was crying over his father. He lay on the street and didn’t move. The boy didn’t know why he was like that. He had no clue why there were people in the streets, overlooking his dad. The boy’s mother only told him to sit here, and she ran off to his dad, with the police. Only thing else at the scene was his fathers Pokémon, Doomsday.

Doomsday was fairly larger than the boy. He was similar to a Houndour, yet he was larger and had two horns protruding of his head which curved behind him. From his dad’s telling, this was a Houndoom, which evolves from Houndour. Doomsday had always been loyal to the boy and his mother. But for reason, Doomsday couldn’t tell the police what happened to his dad. He thought Doomsday was quite evil, but “he wasn’t” he remembered his mother telling him. His mother told him that Doomsday had amnesia and couldn’t remember anything.

As if out of nowhere, men came into the scene with a long white stretcher. They had white coats that covered them from neck to toe. They huddled over the boy’s father, as his mother bawled on. The boy understood the situation more now that these men were here. They were apart of the hospital down the street. They took sick and injured people away and healed them.

The boy stood slowly, trying to get a better look at his dad who was now on a stretcher. Dropping his grip from his navy blue shirt, he walked over to the men walking off with his dad hoisted above their shoulders. As the men parted away, the boy had to begin running to keep up. He began panting as his lungs weren’t the strongest. He finally caught up, his mother noticed his chasing after his father. The boy tugged at the stretcher, the men looking down at him with bewildered looks. The boy climbed onto a newspaper dispenser and look at his father.

He lay there, not moving, blood over his face. His eyes were open but they didn’t blink nor move.

He was dead.
 

purple_drake

E/GL obsessed
Crystal Hikara: Hokay, 'Enigmatic Star' has been taken down and this one's been put up. Thanks for letting me know. ^^ If you'd like Act as your mentor especially, feel free to contact her yourself. Good luck!


Lucario7777777: Okay, added. 'Prior writing experience' is just asking how much experience you've got in writing--whether you've written much it the past. It helps the mentors get a feel for how how much you know about writing. ^^ Have fun writing.


IJuggler: Added, thanks. G'luck~


Aura Master: Done! Thanks~
 

Ism

Well-Known Member
Story title: To be decided

Fandom: Pokemon

Plot summary: Trainer Eric has a perfect winning streak until he loses the Global Pokemon Championships. Now, distressed and upset, he falls out of the battling world. Roped into the Contest biz, he finds out that it's not the frivolous beauty pageant he thought it was. He likes it, so he sticks around, but the competition is incredibly intense and there are a lot of dark things happening behind the performance stage.

Genre: General, I s'pose.

Rating: K+, probably

Mentor needed: Comprehensive!

Prior writing experience: A plentiful amount of high school essays and writin' for fun?

Preferred mentor: An...experienced one? It's all good.

Writing sample: If more is needed then I have more. =)

I'd like to say that all that happened was like a blur, that my silly memory just wasn't able to recount the incident. That, ‘I'm really sorry, guys, but I have no idea what you're talking about.’ I'd really like to say that others had felt the same way, and that what had happened was about as memorable as a Qwilfish in a Pokebee. ‘What are you talking about? You're imagining things. That never happened.’

But it did. And everyone, especially me, realized the horrible, ugly truth. That I had unforgivably mortified myself in front of thousands of people in front of me, and, thanks to that wonderful invention known as the television, millions more around the region. Maybe then I would have been able to show my face in the aftermath, and then maybe they could even forget. But then again, there was no shelter in my impossible thinking.

I was supposed to be a good trainer! For years I had built up and earned my reputation throughout the region for my spotless record. Trainer after trainer, leader after leader, I maintained an abnormally high (to say the least) win to lose ratio. And people noticed. Even if not everyone liked me, they respected me. I did my best to live up to my image and battle with the same respect and dignity. (Pft, dignity. It was blasphemous to even mention it and my name within the same sentence anymore.)

That wasn't the end of it, though. Despite my choice to not battle the Elite Four (for, uh, personal reasons), my record at the Battle Frontier was enough to cover up the fact that I skipped over the essential qualifications to even earn access into the trainer-restricted area in the first place. Surely, that was what gained me my notoriety, my acknowledgement, the appraisal and glorification that was only befitting for someone who had never lost a battle! Not to anyone, anywhere, at any time. I was proud of it, my Pokémon were especially proud of it, and so was all of Sinnoh, proud that they had bred the trainer only everyone could dream to be.
 

purple_drake

E/GL obsessed
Ism: Added~ Feel free to get in contact with a mentor if you need one ASAP, as the House tends to run a little slow.

Good luck. ^_^
 

Fire_Pokemon_Master_271

Not Giving a Crap
Applying as a Mentoree:

Story title: Silver: Second Best
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon
Plot summary: A fic that follows Silver's journey around the region of Johto
Genre: Adventure/Journey
Rating: PG-13 (mostly for mild swearing)
Mentor needed: Language and Fluency, or Comprehensive
Prior writing experience: School Writing Assignments and Freehand
Preferred mentor: None, but I'm open to suggestions
Writing sample: http://serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?t=426717
 
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Torkoal

What? Exactly
Story title: One Life to Live
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon, Anime universe
Plot summary: A journey fic following the adventures of three friends who get caught up in a conflict between numerous factions warring for control of the world. More complicated and deep than it sounds [I wrote a backstory document to help me plan out the plot]. Set 20 years after the Anime. Anime characters will be present, as well as some of their children.
Genre: Journey
Rating: PG-13
Mentor needed: Comprehensive
Prior writing experience: Extensive
Preferred mentor (optional): N/A
Writing sample (optional, but expected): Chapter 1
 

Unicorn

Neigh.
Story title: Mesprit's Tears

Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon

Plot summary: In a future part of the world of Pokemon, Team Rocket and Team Galactic have joined forces under the name of Galrock. They ultimately succeed in their endeavor for world domination. This story takes place many years later, where they maintain their control but are struggling in a war against a resistance group called the Red Army. The general public is deceived by the government into believing that Galrock are the "good guys." In Ectruteak city there lives a girl by the name of Rihana with her twin brother, Dari and her older brother Kylo. The three sibligns live with their grandfather. This fanfic tells the tale of their lives and how their eyes are opening to the deception by their governmental leaders, and they consider their futures in this world. When they find an escaped Growlithe and smuggle it into their basement, their adventures are only just beginning...

Genre: chaptered fic. Adventure I guess?

Rating: PG-13

Mentor needed: comprehensive

Prior writing experience: Mostly advanced placement English courses, but also free-writing on my own time.

Preferred mentor (optional): N/A

Writing sample (optional, but expected):

This the prologue for my story.

Deep within the region of Sinnoh, in a dimly lit cave within Mt. Coronet, a single teardrop falls and lands in a rippling puddle. It is the very embodiment of sorrow and loss, belonging to none other than the legendary Pokemon, Mesprit, who hovers in place, waiting...

"At last, I've found you!" a male voice breaks the sad silence. Mesprit remains suspended in space, making no acknowledgement and merely floating above a puddle of tears. A man dressed in a black suit steps into view, emerging from a nearby tunnel. A pack of similarly dressed goons stand just behind him.

"Are you going to run away again?" the man laughs, revealing hideously perfect white teeth. His eyes, the color of the ocean, bore into the sad Pokemon in front of him. Another teardrop drips from her face and falls. The sound of the liquid landing echoes through the cavern.

Laughing maniacally, the man tosses his head back and reaches into one of his coat pockets, producing a strange contraption that is shaped roughly like a boomerang. It springs into life at the touch of button, and leaps from his hand toward the Pokemon. In a split second, Mesprit becomes tangled in electrifying cords and collapses to the cavern floor, thrashing in a puddle of her own tears. A fatal cry goes out, filling the ears of the evil men and penetrating through to their very souls, making them shiver on the spot:

"You haven't won..."

The man freezes and stares at Mesprit, who has ceased all movement. "What!?" he shouts, sprinting over to where she is laying, but before he reaches her a flash of light illuminates the entire room, blinding everyone. The men all cry out in shock and cover their eyes.

"What's going on?!"

And the cave is dimly lit once more. Slowly, they lift their hands from their faces and stare blinking around at each other. The one man with the evil smile is standing over Mesprit's lifeless body, fuming.

"Well, we got her alright..." he says coldly, briefly touching her limp, delicate figure. His hands shake as he does so. In a fit of anger he screams and punches the cave wall, causing rocks and stalactites to fall all around them. The mission failed: Mesprit escaped once again. Breathing heavily, the man removed himself and retained a calm demeanor once more. He laughed, his voice quivering in his throat:

"Oh but how wrong you are, my dear. I'll find you, and your power shall be mine. As long as I have control of the other two, there is no way you can hide forever!"
 

Sorlin

Active Member
Story title: The Good Left Undone
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon
Plot summary: A young trainer is torn between his duty to his father and his desire to find his mother’s murderer.
Genre: Drama/Action
Rating: Teen so far
Mentor needed: Anyone who is available and who specializes with drama
Prior writing experience: Quite a while now.
Preferred mentor (optional): None
Writing sample (optional, but expected):

Sion sat on the chair, numb on the inside. Gone, his brain repeats the word over and over again. Some words when you repeat them, they lose their meaning. Not this one. Gone.

A well wisher, someone he barely even knew, stopped to give him her condolences. "I'm sorry about the loss of your mother," she said shakily before bursting into tears.

He stared at her; somewhere deep inside me he was angry. He was angry at this woman, who is standing in front of him bawling, as if it were her who lost her mother, her best friend in the world rather than him. He knew he was angry, but he couldn’t really feel it through the numbness.

The woman's husband lead her away, out into their car and they drove away, back to their happy little lives. His father made his way across the room.

"It's okay son," he says. "We'll get through this...somehow."

His mother's Eevee, Sammie, sat in his mother's favorite chair and whined pitifully. He crossed the room and scooped her into his arms. "Shh," he comforted her, rocking gently. "It's okay. Shh."

He’s glad his hands are hidden in his long hair, now no one can see how badly he was shaking. Gone, he heard the word in his mind again. Gone. he'll never see her again, she'll never hug him again, he'll never hear her whisper that she loved him or that she's proud of him.

He snuck off to his parent's room with Sammie and laid down on their bed. He buried his face in his mother's pillow, inhaling her already fading scent. Then the tears came, they burn his cheeks and fall onto the pillow. Sammie nuzzles his arm, trying to comfort him as he starts to sob.

"Mommy!" he cried.

Gone.

Email: sahariel.boothe994@gmail.com
AIM: SaigoKarasu
MSN: saigokarasu@aol.com
 

Baltoy

New Member
I've got a couple of questions regarding applications for mentorees:

- Is it worth including a provisional title if no title has been concretely decided upon?
3. Please post a sample when possible, even if it’s not a pokémon fic. An excerpt of the fic you want betaed would be ideal, but if not, a sample of your development would still be useful. I say this because in the old thread it was optional; I’m aware that some people might not have a sample at all, but I’d like for those who do to remember to post one.
- When no such sample is available (i.e. no part of the fic has been written) is it acceptable to type up an example of a passage which could theoretically be included in the fic, to give a feel for its style if nothing else? If not, what other options are there?

Thanks in advance.
 

NimhShambler

Fighting Type Prof.
(I don't mean to upset anyone, but I'm not going to type too much right now. The joints in my hands are killing me right now...I'm afraid I have arthritis in my hands now, too.)

Applying for a little help, as I am currently stuck:

TITLE:"Calcobrena 2" (for lack of a better Title. I suck at them)

FANDOM: Pokémon

GENRE: Horror/Suspence

RATING: R; Violence, blood, gore, death, swearing, suicide

MENTOR NEEDED: Horror, Grammar/Language (I tend to be a little fast paced, as I am terrified of my stories becoming boring and too long; Didn't Read....also, I have some trouble with dialogue. It just never feels natural to me.)

Plot Summary: It, pretty much, picks up right where "Calcobrena" leaves off. Kail is called in to the police station, he finds out Kim's body's been stolen. After that, we see the cultists raise Kim's body as a Flesh Golem. Gary Oak is the new Calcobrena, he butchers Tracey and dumps him out in the ranch. Gary flees. A new aide of Prof. Oak's finds Tracey being eaten by the pokes there. <writers block sets in> Gary finds out what happened to Kim, that he lost control of himself when he killed people, too. Gary gets a little information on the cult (I don't know how). Gary seeks out Kail. Gary kills himself to attone for the lives he's taken. (He kills MANY people. It's a bloodbath) Kail infiltrates the Cult's Headquarters/Compound. They find him, and set Golem-Kim on him. Kail destroys Golem-Kim. Kail destroys the cult. The End. Woo-hoo.

EXP: I've been writing since I was nine years. I started out on Yugioh stories, and went through a loooooong hiatus, then I wrote a Jane and the Dragon story, and I'm now writing pokémon stories. My favorite genre is horror, followed by tragedy and angst. I also like suspense.

Sample: (It's not great.)

Kail Bruce sits in a small room in the Celedon police department. It had only been a few hours since Kim had been gunned down. He drums his fingers on the shopworn wooden table, waiting for the coroner and a police man to enter the room. They had told him that they had something important to tell him--something regarding his late brother. After what felt like a life-time, two men enter the room. The first was Carl the coroner, a short, timid man in his late thirties, and the other was a tall middle aged man of muscular build. He had a shaved head and stern hazel eyes. The two of them sit across from him. Carl nervously mucks about with some papers on his desk.

"Um, Mr. Bruce, I don't know how to tell you this, but, um...eh, we've eh....we--"

"For God's sake, Carl! The boy doesn't have all day!" the officer says. He turns to Kail. "We can't find your brother's body."

"What the hell do you mean?" he asks.

"What I just said. We can't find him. He's gone." Kail narrows his eyes, of all the incompetence...

"You fu*kin' lost him?!" Carl speaks up.

"We have reason to believe someone stole Kim Bruce's body--"

"Who the hell would steal my brother?" He's VERY aggrivated. Not only was his brother gone, he couldn't even bury Kim now.

"Sometimes necrophilliacs lift fresh bodies." The officer says, kurtly. Kail's face grows ill.

"You mean some sick son of a b*tch has my brother's body, doing God only know's what to him!?"

"The necrophilliac would likely sodomise your brother--" Carl kicks the officer under the table.

"Great Scott, Phillup, have some sensitivity. It's the boy's brother. He doesn't want to hear about some pervert raping his brother's corpse." Carl whispers. Kail stares downward at the table top, his face a pale shade of green.



Inside an ominous black room, Kim Bruce lies on a large, black altar. It had a red silk cloth with odd embroidery draped across it. The room itself seemed to be constructed of black stone, and red candles burned in their ebonized sconces. The sickly sweet scent of an alien incense fills the deep, forboding structure. Several figures in black robes and cloaks materialize from the immense shadows. Three step foward, to the altar, and begin to prepare Kim. They carefully strip Kim naked. One of them mutters something, an incantation, and gently runs his hands over Kim's clothesless body, stopping on each wound. The hand lingers on each .38 hole for only a moment, then is drawn away to reveal Kim's pale flesh, completely healed. They lift his body and set him, gingerly, into a large wash basin, where they wash the blood from him. They pat his skin dry and lay him back down on the altar. One of the cultists takes out a small black bag and begins his part of the preparation. With a needle and a long black thread, he sews Kim's mouth shut, and with much care and skilled hands, he removes the boy's eyelids, to make him ever watchfull. The third, a woman, fastens a heavy steel collar around Kim's neck, and then four bracers, one on each wrist and ankle. Finally, she wraps a black and red satin cloth around his waist and fastens it with a black leather belt and a chain. The first cuts Kim's chest open, removes his heart, and replaces it with an odd, faintly glowing red bauble. He mends the wound as he had done before, and begins to paint an odd symbol consisting of a triangle within a circle, in red, on Kim's chest. While the leader begins his incantation, the other two fasten chains to the collar and bracers, binding him to the altar. The symbol begins to glow, faintly at first, and as the cultist advances in his incantation, grows steadily brighter, until it illuminates the entire chamber. When the other cultists feel they can stand the blinding red light no longer, the first stops and steps back, motioning for his minons to follow suit. A moment later, muffled screams eminate from Kim. The screaming grows in it's intensity to the point where the two junior cultists fear that he will rip the stitches out of his mouth. He bucks wildly, tugging on the chains so loudly that the sound becomes almost deafening. The screams echo through the cave-like building, and the cultists fall to their knees, muttering.


----AND----------


Meanwhille in Pallet Town, Gary Oak works in his Grandfather's lab. Prof. Oak had left for the Johto, and he would be gone for an entire month. It was just Gary and Tracey Sketchit in there now. Tracey was outside, drawing some of the pokemon as Prof. Oak had asked him, and Gary was looking over some of his grandfather's notes. Out of nowhere, an intense amount of pressure fills his head. He raises to his feet, clutching his head and screaming. Tracey rushes in.

"Gary, are you okay?" he asks. Gary had stopped screaming and stood there, silent as the grave and still as stone. "Gary, did you hear me? I heard you screaming all the way outside. Are you alright?" Gary doesn't respond. Instead, he shuffles over to a paper cutter his grandfather had kept in there. With his eyes dim, he tears the blade from the board and turns to Tracey. Tracey's eyes widen, and he turns to run. Gary slices his back. Not deep enough to sever Tracey's spine, but enough to send shockwaves of pain radiating through his body. Tracey cries out, and contenues to run, blood trailing behind him. He runs to a small, windowless bathroom and locks the door behind him. He looks up at the tiny room. "Great, Tracey. Of all the rooms in here, you had to go to the one with no damned windows...I'm trapped..." He pulls his shirt off and tears it into strips. He was making a bandage to stop his bleeding. He stands up and goes to Prof. Oak's medicine cabinet. Surely enough, there's a bottle of hydrogen peroxide in there. He reads the back. "Hmmmm....it says I'm not supposed to use this on a deep wound...but I need to steralize myself...don't want an infection." He goes over to the tiny shower in the cramped restroom and takes his shoes and socks off. He unbuttons and removes his shorts. Don't want to get hydrogen peroxide on them. He takes a deep breath. This is going to hurt, and what's more, Tracey had to keep quiet. He steps inside the shower, sits down, and pours the liquid on his back. The pain is so intense, that he wets himself. He bites his lip, and blood runs down his chin. The massive wound on his back foams and sizzles. He feels he will black out, but he doesn't. After a moment, he rinses the hydrogen peroxide off himself and binds his wound in some bandaging and cotton batting he found in the medicine cabinet. He wishes he would've taken the time to look around more before he destroyed his shirt. The room goes dark. Gary has cut the lights. "No...No no no no no no no no!" Tracey gets up and flips the lightswitch, hoping against hope that the lights will magically come back on. He thought he heard something. He shuts his eyes and tries to key in on the sound....footsteps. Heavy footsteps, like the kind he had heard in horror movies. They were slow, padding things. He felt panic take him over as he stood there in the void. He had begun panting, loudly, taking in great gulps of air. His heart was pounding, and he had broken into a sweat. Gary brings the blade down on the door, slicing a small hole into it. Tracey screams and runs back, as far as he can get, from that horrible opening. Gary hacks at it again, this time, breaking the door in half. He steps through the gaping hole like some sort of monster, illuminated from behind by the light in the hall. Tracey screams again, and tries to run past Gary. He grasps the watcher by the arm and brings the blade down on him, slicing his arm completely off. Blood spurts out in a glorious scarlet fountain, spraying not only the room, but Gary in the process. He tosses Tracey's dismembered arm to the floor and walks to him. Tracey had gone pale from blood loss, and had slipped to the floor. He looks up at his mentor's grandson. "Gary....please....don't do this...." he says, weakly. He couldn't run anymore. A knifelike grin coursed up Gary's face. He drops the paper cutter to the ground and withdraws a long kitchen knife. Gary sinks to his knees before the watcher and plunges the blade into his navel. Warm, red blood rolls down, pooling in his white cotton briefs. He grits his teeth as small whimpers escape him. Gary places his hand on Tracey's shoulder and jerks the blade upward, tearing through his periotenum and organs. A sick agony fills the watcher. Gary drags the blade ever upward, slowly, and painfully, slicing his pale flesh until finally stopping at his sternum. Gary turns the blade and after a few moments, tears it out. Tracey falls to his side, his life slowly fading. His internal organs spill out onto the powder blue linoleum floor which was now thuroughly drenched in Sketchit's blood. A blood-soaked Gary Oak regains conciousness only a moment later. He looks around the room, seeing the sanguine paint job splattered on the bathroom walls.

"Ye Gods, what happened in here?" He says. His eyes drift to the floor, and he sees Tracey lying dead. A sick feeling washes over the neophyte researcher, and he runs out of the room, vomiting.


=----------=
I know, it's awful. I'm sorry if I'm wasting anyone's time here, it's just this has been bugging me a while.


~Nemmeh ;107;
 

Sorlin

Active Member
Story title: The Good Left Undone
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon
Plot summary: A group of trainers chase down a madman bent on consuming the legendary beasts.
Genre: Drama
Rating: Mature
Mentor needed: Yes
Prior writing experience: Been writing since I was five.
Writing sample (optional, but expected):

Eira tightened her grip on the last match, staring down at its red tip. All around her on the cold ground lay the corpses of its fellows, twisted into useless black ash. She huddled in the snow shelter, her back against a hastily constructed wall, listening to the storm howl like a crazed Arctic beast. High morning cloud streaked the sky, a lofty white mirror of the tundra below. Tears streamed in her vision and she bended over the pile of dry grass tinder. If this last one failed, she would not survive another night on the freezing plain.

Contact me via PM or though MSN at saigokarasu@aol.com if you're interested in beta-ing my story.
 

Evil Quagsire

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiny
Story title: A Man and His Pig (the first part of a series)
Fandom: Pokemon
Plot summary: Well...huh. There's eight viewpoint characters, plus a number of others. It mostly takes place in Kanto, ten years after the events of Fire Red/Leaf Green. In short, the storylines.
-A young boy starts out on his trainer journey, and has ABYSMAL luck.
-An isolated man with a mysterious past goes on a mission after a group of thugs burn down his house and try to kill him.
-His best friend, a Grumpig, bears the burden of a horrible secret.
-A naive young girl discovers her past might be a lie, and journeys through the Sevii Islands to find her uncle.
-A world-weary, bitter woman manages the popular teen punk band Ember Oddish as they plan a tour across Kanto.
-A sleazy politician plots his way to power, while trying to backstab the wealthy businessman bankrolling his career.
-Sabrina, still the gym leader of Saffron, gets a premonition of an apocalyptic event, and starts making preparations.
-Lance, now employed as an international detective, investigates a series of strange Pokemon-related crimes that might just be related.

Genre: Journey/Mystery/Drama/Action/Adventure/Crime, lol
Rating: starts out pretty tame, but I expect it to get fairly mature. Not in terms of sexual content, but in terms of dark themes
Mentor needed: for dialogue, continuity, and writing effective mystery
Prior writing experience: many unposted beginnings of epic stories. I'm often bad with persistence.
Writing sample:
Kreeeeaw!

A tan blur swooped down from the tree, with a ferocious screech. She moved it for the kill, intending to make a meal of the small, violet-furred rat creature that had rudely broken its pleasant slumber. Closer, closer, closer it came, but when she was within a foot, the rat leapt up, and drove its massive front teeth into the Pidgey's soft underbelly. Both the Rattata and the Pidgey dropped to the ground, as the little bird passed out. Darnit, thought Joe, I was NOT expecting that.

"Is it safe now?"

The Rattata nodded.

Joe clumsily tried to climb down from the tree, but, well, that had always been the element of tree climbing he'd never mastered. He tumbled down, and slammed into the ground.

"Ratta?"

"uhhng...I'm okay."

The Rattata, small as it was, made a valiant, but ultimately futile effort to push the boy up. Finally he got up on his own.

"Uh, thanks, Cyril."

Cyril gestured towards the Pidgey, excitedly re-enacting the motion of throwing a Poke Ball. It's bad enough I'm stuck out here, but my Pokemon seems to know more about being a trainer than I do.

"Sorry, buddy, we don't have any."

This explanation did nothing to deter Cyril, who attempted to pantomime some kind of thing he wanted. This was, sufficed to say, unusual behavior for Rattatas, even trained ones. Pokepsychologists have derived what they claim is the central credo of all Rattata: Bite first, ask questions never. But to Joseph Brerich, Cyril might as well have been biting him, for all the sense it made. In the sixteen days since Joe had captured Cyril with his special birthday present Luxury Ball, they had come to trust each other, care for each other, and rely on each other.

Cyril was drawing something in the dirt, and if Joe had still been looking in his direction, he would have seen an impressively rendered drawing of the Viridian PokeMart. But something else had captured his attention.

"Taraaaaaa!"

"Cyril, look. Smoke...could be a campfire."

Cyril climbed onto Joe's shoulder, and looked where he was pointing. There, not more than a mile away in the lowlands, arose a column of smoke, with a slight orange gleam visible where the smoke met the tree line. Rattata jumped off his shoulder, ran to the bushes, and came back dragging a heavy backpack. Joe picked the pack up, and slung it over his shoulders. He hadn't eaten a decent meal in days. NEED FOOD NOW. NOW.

"Let's go see what's up."

Cyril furiously shook his little head, and gestured frantically.

"We won't get too close, I promise."

The little rat reluctantly relented, and clambered back up onto Joe's shoulder. Joe broke into a run, down the hill, through the deep evergreen forest. My luck's gotta turn around sometime. Joe had endured nothing but hardship since leaving his quaint home in Viridian to start a Pokemon journey. Somehow, he missed the path to Pallet Town, and ended up lost in the deep woods. At his moment of greatest despair, two weeks ago, that's when he met Cyril.

Joe had had enough. At a little clearing, Joe sat down on a douglar fir toppled by lightning, and weighed his options. Sure, sure, sure, he could simply press a button on his Special Platinum Deluxe Poketch, sending a distress signal, and wait to be picked up by helicopter.

But. But. BUT.

That would be the end. The end of his Pokemon journey, the end of his freedom, the end of any shot at becoming a Pokemon Master. He had sacrificed so much, too much to quit now. Harold and Cheryl Brerich, his parents, were overall nice, lenient, easygoing, but they believed in hard work, almost to the point that it was the family religion. For good reason, as Harold's blood, sweat, and tears led to the first Quality Mart grocery store, and later a whole franchise that would become the number one grocery chain in both Kanto and Johto. They were wealthy now, but they wanted their children to work so as to never become "upper-class twits" (as Joe's mother would always say). They would not tolerate failure.

Joe tried so hard to keep composure, but he couldn't stop himself, and soon he was bawling like an infant. I SUCK. I'LL NEVER BE A MASTER. I WAS DUMB TO THINK I COULD. As Joe sat on the log feeling sorry for himself, the grass rustled ominously. Joe started beating his head against the log, faintly hoping that would somehow help his brain think up a solution.
 

NimhShambler

Fighting Type Prof.
Applying to be a Mentoree


Title: Haven't got one yet, leaning towards "Neverlost" (after a song by The Smashing Pumpkins....I'm not so good a titles.)
Fandom: Pokemon
Plot Summary: It's pretty much the life of the Invincible Pokemon Brothers. In it:
-Their dad is murdered by Team Rocket in Viridian Forest, as is his Bulbasaur, Sprout. (Their father was a Pokemon Ranger in charge of defending Viridian Forest. The boys don't know that Team Rocket did it. They were told he died in a car accident.)
-Their mother dies of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Her Aron, Caulin, is sent back to Dewford.
-They are sent to live with their abusive, cruel, perpetually unemployed maternal uncle, Peter Van Horn.
-Peter nearly beats Kai (the fat one) to death. Peter's put in prison.
-They are sent to live with their grandparents, Ethel and Clarence Bruce, in Lavender Town. (Their grandmother is from the Sinnoh, HATES people from the Hoenn (The boys' mother was from the Hoenn), and trains grass types, whereas their grandfather is from the Kanto and trains Ghost types.)
-Their grandparents buy them their Tyrogues as part of their therapy.
-They come of age and move back to Viridian.
-Episode "Gotta Catch Ya Later!" and "Cerulean Blues" occurs, from their POV.
-They go to the Hoenn to retrieve their mother's Aron after their maternal grandfather dies, leaving it alone, with no one to take it. It has become a Lairon.
-They return home and find out the truth, somehow, (not quite noodled that one through, yet) about how their dad died.
(That's all I have, so far....don't know how to end it.)
Genre: Drama, I guess? P'raps adventure, too.
Mentor Needed: Drama. Haven't written Drama in ages. Also, I need pacing help, as my writings tend to run fast.
Prior:I've been writing quite a while now, but I usually get bored....plus, I'm a bit of a scaredy. (Afraid to post my stories)

Example:
None yet. Can't think of how to start it.

~Nem
 

Galaxy_Hunter

End of Line.
Hello, I'm applying to be a mentoree

Story title: TBD
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon, a modified version of the in-game universe to be precise
Plot summary: A quiet teenager (name forthcoming) has been raised by strangers his whole life, never knowing what became of his true parents who went missing many years ago. After team Rocket attempts to kidnap him, he flees across Kanto, staying on the move to avoid capture and steadily gaining strength. He is accompanied by an oblivious girl and a ragtag group of Pokemon. They are pursued by Team Rocket every step of the way and never know who to trust. Giovanni is hell-bent on getting back so that they can finally re-capture MewTwo and reign supreme.
Genre: Action/suspense/thriller (think of it as "The Bourne Identity" but with Pokemon_
Rating: On the fence, leaning towards "R" at the moment for violence and gore and likely pervasive language.
Mentor needed: Comprehensive
Prior writing experience: Did NaNoWriMo this year and made it, barely
Writing sample (optional, but expected):

Here goes, note all names are merely placeholders until I can think of something else...

Anthony walked hurriedly around the room, gathering up things and shoving them in his backpack. Tonight's the night He thought grimly. Ariana and Petrel are both out at some fancy function. When they get back I'll be long gone. He finished packing all of his personal belongings and ran down the hall to the main dining area. It was late, all of the servants were already asleep.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed all of the sealed food he could. Freeze-dried fruits, jerky, energy drink powder, power bars. He stuffed these in his pack and made for the front door. Just as he reached for it a thought occurred to him. Ariana and Petrel could have something in their room I could use He reasoned. and it's not as if I owe them a damned thing anyway. He went down the hall and up the spiral staircase to their room. He had never been there before and wasn't sure what to expect. The room was empty, and appeared to be completely ordinary. He went through the nightstand and the vanity table but came up with no valuables. He almost gave up and left when he noticed the closet door was ajar. He went inside. It was large, there were multiple shelves and racks holding assorted clothing. A large box sitting on the tallest shelf caught his eye, and he deftly ascended the shelves like a mankey, grabbing it and bringing it down for inspection. The box was heavy, and something inside rattled around when he moved it.

Excellent, maybe there's some money or Poke Balls in here. He thought, a faint smile stealing across his face. I could use the extra funds, and Poke Balls would be invaluable. He opened the box and his heart leaped into his throat and stopped beating simultaneously. Instead of money or Poke Balls two forty-two caliber pistols sat there, gleaming dully in the florescent light. Beneath them were two neatly-folded black uniforms, each with a large crimson "R" sewn into it. Team Rocket. Oh, no...
 

Trainer Robert

Well-Known Member
I'm a bit confuse a little about this lol. But I would like to apply to be a mentoree

Story title: The Kanto story: Robert arma's adventures
Fandom (preferably pokémon): Pokemon, My own twist and version of the game/manga verse
Plot summary: Young Robert arma, who lives in Kanto. Has set out on a journey, to prove to everyone that he is not hsi brother shadow. By competing in the Pokemon league. He sets out on his journey, with his childhood friend Yellow. While along the way, meets up with Shadow. As he discovers, there more to life. Then proven one self.
Genre: Adventure/Journey
Rating: G
Mentor needed: I'm not sure about this one, but I guess I go with Comprehension
Prior writing experience: I can't say, I've done anything big or with great writing. But wrote mostly alot of Megaman Battle network stories and other fics on Deviant art.
Preferred mentor (optional):
Writing sample (optional, but expected): I will give a example of Chapter 13.

It's been almost 5 days, after they left the Cerulean gym and Cerulean city. Traveling south for their next destination, which they were constantly stopping and going. On the account, Robert and Eevee were in good moods, and went for capturing any Pokemon they spotted.

Shadow and Yellow just sat back on a stone, as they were now resting from traveling. While Robert and Eevee went off to train and capture Pokemon's. Though they had to constantly hold themselfs back, from chasing after the two.

Yellow who was just, resting her back against the tree. Was silently watching the clouds go by. Remenicing her past battles of the gyms. Brock mostly gave her a hard time, since her Pokemon's were Elec, Normal, Bug and Poisen type. If it wasn't for Nidorina's double kick, she would have lost against him. But even then, the rock gym leader prove to be best in defense.

He honor her and the battle skill's she shown through their fights. Even though, she was lack lustering in the stragety area. Which he understands, that she must not be the battleing type. Then question her why she took him on.


I do hope, I'm not posting on something old >_<
 

bobandbill

Winning Smile
Staff member
Super Mod
Actually... this is old, sorry - there's been some plans to make a new Beta Thread. In fact I'll get onto that now. Sorry for the trouble and all. NOTE: I will put your fic in the list though for you at any rate, so don't worry about that.

I guess I'll close this for now then.
 
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