, wait for it... HEART BREAKERS! [Episode 14 - Don't be so Cold Hearted]

[The Warden]

I used to always be so gungho about heroes really, but as I got older, and I guess a lot more bitter, I learned that really, villainy is more fun. A hero would rescue the blind man who just walked onto that busy intersection, whilst a villain would be making a bet on whether he got his ass ran down by that truck, or by that volvo.

 

Freedom is an important defining trait, and almost always the villain will have more of it. An example would be Komodo from Warriors of Virtue (see the Nostalgia Critic's review of the movie, it has some good Komodo moments). The guy acts like a complete nut the entire movie, but is actually competent in being a threat... whilst acting like a nut. He is free to do whatever he likes for the hell of it, and deep down, lots of people wish they had such freedom. The ability to act however you please with people looking at you like you're crazy, and you simply don't care. You have the power to crush them like ants. A hero can't think like that (unless they're the supremely morally ambiguous or anti-heroes).

[L0SS]

My favourite villains are the tragic ones, who try to do the right thing at get lost along the way. I think that's why I love Michael Corleone from The Godfather (see my sig/profile) so much; he was a man trying to do right by his family, who ended up becoming corrupt and blind in order to keep the people he cared about safe, or at least in an environment that he deemed safe for them. He only realised the error of his ways when it was too late. As someone stated, the idea that villains aren't perfect, and have flaws, appeals far more to human beings than the idea of perfection; simply because villains are a reflection of ourselves.

[The Warden]

Villains are a reflective lot aren't they? Though, I still follow the ideal that they are a reflection of our desires, like our desire to be bad, despite being a very moral person. But a factor that does aid their likability is that they are 3D people, usually anyways. Characters that are more fleshed out tend to be embraced more readily than Sues.

[L0SS]

That almost certainly plays into it. We all have a desire to break convention and do bad, in some form. It's nice that villains act as an outlet for that more predatory side in all of us. I think that idea of having no limits or boundaries is very appealing too, in a social environment like the kind we find ourselves in. I'm sure that says a lot about human nature.

[The Warden]

Eh, I just came to the basic conclusion that humans are inherently a bunch of bastards and called it a day.

[Jake the Sage]

I'm gonna have to paraphrase Dwayne McDuffe here, as I don't remember his entire speel about heroes/villains, but this is the gist that I can remember.

 

"Villains want to be the hero. They want the fame and glory that comes with being a hero, but it is their inherit flaws that bring about their downfall. The hero doesn't want to be a hero, make the choices that could save or kill other people, but does anyways. Villains are active, heroes are reactive."

 

And a hero can be interesting too, if you treat them well enough. You can't have an interesting hero if nothing bothers them, they never get bothered by what they've seen or had to go through. Again, paraphrasing McDuffe here, "The best way to torture your reader is to torture your hero." Push them to the absolute brink, make them think for a second that their hero will lose control, then show why he can't make that decision to cross the line.

 

I just want to see characters that can be related too, humanized, defeated, humiliated and somehow overcome the problems they face- or even fail to overcome it on their own. Realistic within the story they reside in.

[The Warden]

Well obviously. I'm just talking brass bones after all, since an especially skilled writer can weave an expansive tapestry in such a way that you feel conflicted on who you want to win in the end. The hero has done so much to get there, whilst the villain may have just been lots of fun. It's something that takes intricate amounts of work to realize and some people simply can't muster the effort. Also, an unknown troper said it best Jake:

 

"That's the problem with heroes, really. Their only purpose in life is to thwart others. They make no plans, develop no strategies. They react instead of act. Without villains, heroes would stagnate. Without heroes, villains would be running the world. Heroes have morals. Villains have work ethic."

[Serefin]

I think that, if you want a hero to be truly good and realistic, you should try to get to get them as reasonably close to being a villain in their story as they can. Make them have to decide who lives and who dies, and don't pull any "Third Option" bullshit. Make them beat their enemies to within an inch of death when they get pissed. And generally just blur the line between the heroes and the villains as reasonably as possible.

[The Warden]

Well, it took some doing, but I present to you all another special edition of, wait for it... HEART BREAKERS!
 
[spoiler=Episode 11: Dangerous 2x Heart Breaker Combo]
Hey everyone, Broke. N here for a review, finally. You guys have been working way too slow. Anyways, today I’m- Accompanied by everyone’s favourite co-star Muge. N! Yes, yes I am. Due to the unique nature of Creator and Sonic’s fic The Emerald Showdown, I felt I could use an extra pair of hands for this one. These hands may or may not be tied as we speak. Seriously, someone dial 911 I have no idea what he’ll do to me. *Sighs* Drama queen. Anyhow, today’s episode consists of two parts, the Heist and the Case. N here will be reviewing the happenings, while I’ll take a closer look at the investigation. So, if you are quite done upstaging me, let’s get to work. Me first, of course.

[spoiler=Episode 11 1/2: Showdown in the Emerald City]

Intro

Cute, but it feels more like an outro than an intro. Of course if the use of this song is any indication, I am perfectly aware of what this fic is ripping off’s source material is.

Night fell upon Yugo City only hours before; all was quiet even though the entirety of the city was usually busy. In a small store on the corner of the Organizational district and the Game district, was a lone jewelery store: "Dae's Diamonds". It had closed shop not to long ago, but...there was activity happening inside the store.

Inserts ahoy. Take hold of the wheel boy, these be dangerous waters yee be traversing.

"Is it even here, boys?" a young man, as he messed with a clam shell in his hand.

Clam shells? Is that what they’re calling them now?

"Its right here, boss!" said another voice, his face hidden beneath a hoodie. He held up a gem, a bright yellow emerald that appeared to almost gleam with a fiery shine.

Yellow emerald? That seems rather familiar. Hmm, nope, it ain’t coming to me. I wish I had SuperSonic thought patterns sometimes, though I find cracking my Knuckles helps me think. Granted, I soon think about how funny Pomeranian dog Tails are. They’re just to fluffy.

The young man smirked and took the emerald in his hand, before putting the clam shell back in the display case. "Well, well...a tiny shop like this had it all along. The Sun-Setting Emerald, a gem even more beautiful in person." he said, as he put it in a bag, before he and his accomplices headed out the back door of the shop. Awaiting them was an unmarked black van, with the back doors quickly opening up.

Aren’t sunsets usually orange, or in some cases red or pink? Yellow isn’t the sort of colour you’d normally see. But then maybe the person naming these things was colour blind.

In an unrelated topic, my unmarked van is named Spirited Away.

"Get us the hell out of here." the young man said in a demanding voice.

No response was overheard, as the driver just nodded and drove off from the jewelery store.

Later…

"And now class, if you will open your books to Page 45, you will see that the Moderation Police force was formed a year following Yugo City's founding. Before then, it was all done by what we called 'Duelists'." the female teacher said, as she tossed a piece of chalk in her hand, looking at the text book. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one hand go up, before breaking into a sigh. "AND NO Mr. Shard, it doesn't mean the Duelists from Yugioh." At that moment, Shard's hand slowly went down. "Continuing..."

Oh ho ho ho, how accurately charming.

However, after she said continuing, there was a faint snoring in the classroom. The teacher sighed once more, not even needing to look up from the book. She tossed the chalk once more, before she threw it straight at a boy with light brown hair, as it made contact on his head.

She tossed the chalk, then threw it? Did she run up, catch it, walk back and then throw it? Or did that just not need explaining?

"AH! W-W-WHAT?! I'm up, I'm up!!"

"Mr. Chao...if you would pay attention to your studies as you do your sleep, you might actually start passing your classes." the teacher said, now tossing another piece of chalk, before sending him a death glare.

Hmmm, slacker protagonist, sleeping through class. *Checks bingo card* That puts me so close. Now I just need secret alter-ego and wimpy sidekick to get a straight.

The young man sighed, before nodding at the teacher. "Y-Yes, Ms. Koko." Then his desk neighbour chimed in after, and he got a bit upset about this. "Oh yeah, and your failing grades aren't something...I mean honestly, your just staring at the teacher's boobs the entire time!"

Son, you used your instead of you’re, I don’t think you should be criticizing him for failing right now. But nice to see he’s forthcoming about talking about the teacher’s boobs, right in front of the teacher.

"Don't go dragging me into your fantasies now. You can check my test scores, I haven't made anything less than a 98 all semester. Besides, maybe if you actually did your homework, you'd actually be able to sleep around test times. You didn't forget about tomorrow did you?" The young man turned to gaze back out the window he was conveniently placed by and began to cloud gaze. I'm so bored...

Kiyomaru, is that you? Why are they calling you Chao? And where’s Gash?

The young man stopped short from what he was going to say, as he blanked out. There was a test tomorrow?! Why wasn't I told....oh...right...I was asleep... He let his head slam against the desk, as he let out a loud sigh.

I think I’m confused at who’s talking right now. Using young man as the description for two people isn’t really helpful for the reader. It's highly impractical to actually need to read the second part to understand the events occuring in the first half.

"Yeah you forgot. If you need me to, you can stop by later today for a cram session." He sighed to himself as he heard the facedesk behind him.

"Like I need your help! Sonic Chao doesn't need anyone's help except his own!" he said, slamming his hands on the desk, looking back up at the young man. However, this was met with a few snickers and laughs.

Yeah, I’m lost. Is Sonic the slacker, or is it the other guy? You aren’t doing a good job at identifying your characters.

"incoming another missile mister Sonic..." as he turned to watch the assault connect.
Sonic looked at the man with a questionable look, but then turned up at the wrong moment, seeing a piece of chalk directly hit his face, causing him to fall out of the chair. "OWWWWW!!!" he said quickly sitting up, only to see Ms. Koko with a very unhappy look on his face, but then again on days like this....when was she ever happy with this lot.

His face… so, is the fact that Norman is a transvestite now forum renowned?

Gotta love chalk’s capacity as an artillery weapon. Wanna break down a door? Don’t use a sledgehammer, use chalk. Wanna bomb a building? Chalk. Wanna take down that plane currently five hundred feet off the ground? Chalk mofo. Yes, chalk, perhaps the most dangerous weapon to ever exist.

"Another outburst like that, Mr. Chao, and you'll be ending up in detention AGAIN." Ms. Koko said, as she grabbed yet another piece of chalk. To this, Sonic simply sat back in his chair, mumbling softly to himself.

So, making a loud declaration of not needing help and slamming a desk is almost detention worthy, but talking about hir fake boobs is perfectly fine? I would call BS, but given the source material…

Sonic clenched his fists at hearing the mocking that not only the sarcastic guy in front of him said, but the others as well. "Yeah, well you actually getting Yugo High a first place trophy in tennis would be a miracle too, Aito!!!" he said, as he watched the guy walk off.

Nice context. I almost wish I knew what Aito said so maybe I’d find what Sonic said to actually be legitimately amusing.

Damn uptight punk....what I wouldn't give to punch that smug smirk off his face. He left the classroom, shuffling his feet across the hallway floor. He arrived at his locker and slung his back and books right in, as he slammed it shut. Thinks he's better at everything else, a freakin' detective and tennis player. Who the hell even plays tennis? It sucks anyway... He mumbled, as he passed a few doors walking down the nearest hallway. Sonic walked out of the building and stared at the sky overhead, with a small sigh.

I just love that he completely glides over the fact that a high school student is an ace detective in favour of criticizing his tennis hobby. (This is of course known as Comically Missing the Point, done quite a bit, even from highly perceptive characters.)

SMACK!

Please tell me that that was the sound of someone slapping some sense into the writer.

Before Sonic knew it, he was hit upside the right side of his head with a tennis ball. It had enough momentum to cause the young man to fall on the ground, meaning the person who served definitely had a strong arm. "A-ALRIGHT!! Whose getting a Sonic B!tch-slap?!" he said, as he rubbed his cheek, trying to stand back up.

Who’s getting… a Sonic B***h-slap. Kid, please stop. You’re giving me too much too work with. I don’t want the rest of this review to be riddled with more gay jokes than a bad comedian in a gay bar.

"Wallace, I found your ball! It hit a moron," A couple of young men in sports uniforms gathered and rushed towards the injured fellow, "You shouldn't worry to much, he looks harmless."

Given the ballistic nature of chalk in this universe, I am surprised that ball didn’t take his head clean off.

Sonic grumbled as he rubbed his cheek, as he picked the tennis ball up with his free hand. "Take your damn ball..." he said, throwing the ball at the first young man, hitting his nose.

You seem very fond of using ‘young man’ as your go-to for descriptions. Why not, I dunno, spice things up a bit, such as, actually describing these characters.

"Ouch, that must have hurt, Jack never did have the best reflexes..."

Okay, who is Jack? For that matter, who the hell are the other majority of characters you are using but don’t seem to be identifying. Like Wallace, or Aito. The first step of liking characters is ACTUALLY KNOWING WHO THEY ARE.

Completely ignoring the statement by the second man, Sonic walked off the school grounds, in a hurrying fashion. He had no time for anyone at that school or their activities, especially today. Sonic kept walking until he hit the Organizational district, beginning to pass a few empty buildings. Ever since the Moderation Force came into play around this district, the buildings that called this district home got shut down without so much as a warning. Gang violence, Drugs, even Terrorist plots...they all went down in this district...

So, the Moderation Force shut down what I assume were completely legitimate businesses without warning, but they allow gang violence, drugs and terrorist plots to roam free. I think the Mod Squad needs to adjust their priorities a little. Or maybe they should just stop being a bunch of dumbasses.

Upon coming to the district's dead end, he turned to the left of him and walked down an alley. There he found a storm cellar's doors, locked shut. Pulling a set of keys out from his pocket, he unlocked the lock on the door, opening them up as he descended into the storm cellar. Down he walked, following the stairs that lead him towards a damp and dark hallway, lit by only flickering torches. Sonic kept walking, until he was faced with a door with faded writings and engravings on it. He put his hands on the door and pushed it open, as light filled the dark hallway, just for the moment. He walked into the light, smirking as the door shut behind him. What awaited for him was a well-furnished room, complete with cases upon cases of jewels and gems. There he saw two others that were sitting at a table, waiting for someone specific. "Sorry I'm late...is the boss here?" Sonic asked, sitting at the table, away from the other two.

Y’know maybe you should spend less time describing pointless actions and instead, use that time to flesh out your characters. Even if they don’t matter it IS nice to know who the hell is actually speaking.

"Unfortunately, not yet. The old geezer is always late, you should know this by now, Chao." the first young man sighed, as he kicked his feet up onto the table, leaning back in his chair.

The second young man chuckled a bit, smiling as he nodded. "Yes that is true. However, with the events of last night, he seemed to move pretty fast. Especially when he got his hand on that emerald."

There you go with the young man thing again. Why do you love young men so much? What is it about them that attracts you so?

"Emerald? Wait, he got some dumb emerald this time?" Sonic asked, raising and eyebrow...and his voice.

I’m in a secret location with a Nazi like police force around, clearly I should be raising my voice.

"You obviously haven't looked into the emerald's mythology." an older voice was heard, as an older man emerged from the shadows that befell the back of the room.

You don’t use a period in the speech if you are going to continue with so-and-so said.

Their heads turned as the saw the older man dressed in a black suit, with a white dress shirt underneath the black jacket, with a red bullet casing hanging from his neck. The group really couldn't tell who this old geezer was, on the fact that he always wore the Kamina shades on his face and the fedora upon his head, hiding a huge portion of his oak brown hair.

Okay, let me just sum up the picture in my mind first. Let’s see… hmmm… Yep, those shades just committed a crime against fashion.

He made his way toward the three, his hands behind his back, as his mouth curled up into a twisted grin. "The Sun-Setting Emerald, is just one out of exactly seven others. Each emerald is said to open vast possibilities to those who find them and each one more different than the one before."

Seven Emeralds? Oooh, this reference is on the tip of my very tongue. WAIT I GOT IT! Oh I’m so stupid heh heh. It’s a reference to the Seven Crystal Stars from Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door right?

Vast possibilities? A dumb emerald can really do something like that? That question rang in Sonic's head, as he crossed his arms, leaning back into his seat. "So, boss...what exactly are they supposed to do exactly?"

Shouldn’t he be asking why the Emerald ISN’T green? I did research it, and most emeralds aren’t flat out yellow.

The older man's twisted grin remained as he broke into a slight laugh. "My dear Sonic, that is something you will have to discover on your own. In the meantime, you do as I say. Are we clear?"

Yes, I will follow you blindly in your vaguely defined search for your seven whatchamacallits that you will no doubt stab us all in the back to obtain.

"Fine...I guess I'll play your game, Spectre Scourge...." Sonic mumbled, as his gaze trailed off from the older man, to the table itself. Jeezus this guy always gives me the creeps....

It’s times like this that you REALLY need to be at least in some ways genre savvy. Come on kid, you’ve probably played enough video games to know that following some dude around for Macguffins will not end well for the minions unless they do a direct face-heel turn. So you’d best put on your best pair of pumps, cause otherwise this will NOT end well for you. If you get caught, you could spend, ffrrI dunno, seven, maybe ten days in detention.

The old man, Spectre Scourge, simply nodded as he clasped his hands together, continuing to show off his twisted grin. "Very well. Our next target is the Storm-Front Emerald. And from what I can tell, it's going to be on display atop of the YCM Hotel, the top floor. This will be in three days, so I want you all to be prepared. Understood?"

I dunno where the hell Jake could’ve earned the funds to display that thing. No one at the Hotel even pays for their stay.

The three remained silent, until they all stood up at the same time, nodding in agreement. "Yes sir!"

I bet they practised that one… though, I wouldn’t mind having three completely subservient drones working for me.

The three days passed, and the small group met once more together, in the alley of the YCM Hotel. The top floor laid their prize: The Storm-Front Emerald. Getting into the Hotel was fairly easy however, dressed up in the uniforms of the servant who made their way from the kitchen, making their way up to the top floor for "Room Service".

Wow, that was the quickest time skip ever. There was literally no division between the parts. It’s almost as if the skip was completely half-assed.

And, no one at all noticed them stealing workers uniforms… wait, people ACTUALLY work there?

"A genius idea you had, Chao..." Spectre Scourge simply said, as they rode the elevator up to the top floor.

"Heh, thanks boss. Now if someone could only tell that crazy teacher, Ms. Koko I can think like that." Sonic chuckled in response.

So, the term ‘genius’ has now been lowered to ‘infiltrate a hotel dressed as bellboys’. Well, it is YCM City after all. And, did he just laugh in response to his own lame joke?

The elevator ride didn't take too long, as it stopped at its appointed floor: the 10th floor. There were a few guards, but nothing that wouldn't be dealt with. "Excuse me! May I have your attention gentlemen!" Spectre Scourge said, as he pushed his food cart towards them. "Care for some refreshments?"

I’m pree-eety sure it’s ‘couldn’t’, not ‘wouldn’t. Unless they had no intention of dealing with the guards.

And shouldn’t the guards be completely aware of who works in the Hotel. If you have a display wouldn’t the intelligent thing be to, I dunno, ensure you know precisely who each worker is to prevent this sort of easily predicted plan? Maybe some ID tags or cards? I mean I know it’s Jake and all, but seriously.

"Well, I am pretty hungry right now."

"No one told you to not eat while your were downstairs, Ethan. I mean, they were just serving seafood." the one guard said in response.

"I DON'T LIKE THAT CRAP!!"

A sentiment I can respect. Though, isn’t that a bit over-reactory for a guard? I mean, it’s not as if they were serving spam.

Spectre Scourge simply chuckled, at the two, watching the others simply walk towards him. "Now now, there is plenty for everyone." he said, as he removed the serving dish's top, unleashing a small smog of sleeping gas onto the group of guards. One by one, they all fell asleep, as the group removed their disguises, heading towards the display case.

Okay, how the HELL would you even pull that off, more to the point how did he pull that off with NONE of the other supposed workers even catching them setting it up?

Also, if they were wearing simple disguises, how did they not get affected by the gas? Did they have mini fans on their uniforms that blew it away? Did the dramatic reveal just send it in one direction? I simply cannot… you know what, I’m just going to call this plot point stupid and move on.

"That's the Storm-Front Emerald?" the first young man asked, as he grabbed a small glass cutting tool out from his bag. "A quite vibrant red..."

Storm-Front, and it’s… red. *Eye twitch* I am thoroughly convinced now that the guy who named these was either colour blind, or had no idea what those statements/colours meant/were.

Spectre Scourge simply nodded, as he held a porcelain clam in his hand, rubbing it a bit. "That it is. Now, quickly, before any of the guards come to."

He rubbed his clam? What, right in front of everybody?

The three boys nodded, as they began to help each other get the display case open with the glass cutter. Before too long, the object they sought was now in Sonic's hand: the Storm-Front Emerald. "H-Here you go boss!" he said, handing him the emerald.

I thought Sonic was a hedgehog, not a lapdog.

"No, you take it. I want you to hold on to it for me." Spectre Scourge said, walking past Sonic, putting the clam in the display case. Then he turned and whispered something to Sonic: Never give up...your resolve... He smiled simply as he passed Sonic, leaving him almost speechless, with almost a shocked look on his face.

I am being vaguely mysterious for no adequately explored reason. I am also having you hold onto the gem so if the cops bust us, it’s your ass going down.

"H-Hey, Chao! What did he say?" the first young man asked him.

He said that he wants to spend some alone time with you in the unmarked van.

Sonic shook his head a bit. "I-Its nothing...c'mon we gotta get the hell out of here..." he said, putting his hood over top of his head.

I would say something here, but honestly it would have most likely ended up as a LSP quote.

With that, the group turned to leave the 10th floor. The prize they sought was in Sonic's hands and their mission was complete. However, this night was far from over, as the elevator 'dinged' and the doors opened, revealing someone inside…

Guess who?

The elevator was occupied by none other than Aito himself, wearing his trademark leather jacket and carrying a notebook.

Oh no, it’s an unarmed 16 year old wearing a stupid jacket and brandishing a notebook. We are sooo f**ked.

"I seem to have cracked the case, and just before the getaway too," Aito closed the notebook and stepped out of the elevator and faced the group, "Now I'll be taking back both of the stolen jewels and you'll be heading downtown for questioning Mister Thief."

Okay, I would like to refer to my prior sarcastic remark here. This guy is in high school, and is trying to single-handedly arrest four dangerous and potentially armed criminals, whilst he in unarmed and is out of his depth. Enlighten me how this guy is considered a genius; even considering how the title is given pretty freely in this world.

Spectre Scourge looked at Aito, before his lips formed the twisted grin once more. "Ahh, I see you got my challenge. I applaud you, sir." he said, as he began to clap his hands. He stopped as he removed his fedora, as he put it to his chest, giving a slight gentlemanly bow. "Spectre Scourge, at your service. And your name, Tantei-san?"

What challenge? He just dropped a clam he rubbed his hands all over. Any idiot worth their salt would have had that thing DNA tested.

"Well, I assumed it was meant for someone aside from the inspector, so I accepted. I was bored after all. What I find interesting is how you managed to get these new guys to pull off something this big," Aito smirked back at the thief.

Oh for f**ks sake, stop thinking you’re so god damn smug. You’ve already made a completely dips**t move by taking on an experienced criminal by yourself, and not only that, it’s on the top floor. He just has to pick you up and hurl you through a window. You’d be a detective pancake before you could even write them the ticket for illegally parking their van.

"My name, Mister Thief? Detective Aito, well part-time anyway. Now Spectre Scourge, I'm going to guess that you have no intention of confessing?"

Confess what? There’s nothing to even confess. He’s right freaking there, with the gem in his minion’s grubby little hands. Remind me how you’re a genius. Actually, remind me WHY this guy is supposed to be likable and/or the hero?

"Confessing? I'm sorry, but you must have me confused with someone who is surrendering, Aito." Spectre Scourge chuckled slightly. He looked to his side, seeing that the group had already gotten to the elevator, passing Aito quickly.

Wow. *Claps three times* Not only is he a complete moron, but also suffers from a lack of peripheral vision. Is he seriously up his own ass so much that he didn’t even notice three people sneak past him?

"B-Boss! C'mon!" the one young man said, wanting him to hurry up. But instead of the old man heading to the elevator, he simply pulled out a gun and shot it. However, to everyone's surprise, a playing card came out: the Joker. It hit the down button on the side and the elevator began its descent.

*Is open mouthed and aghast* ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING?! You just went and upset a dramatic and tense moment by using a mother furking upbeat guitar solo based on Sonic the Hedgehog?! Not even Lemongrab could even begin to display my outrage. This is like having an epic battle between good and evil being done to the freaking Yellow Brick Road. I can’t believe you failed musical accompaniment not once, but twice.

"Now, we have no further interruptions, Mr. Detective." Spectre Scourge said, with his twisted grin.

"They won't get far. I've already called the Moderators, the games over. Why don't you explain why your going after these stones? I'm very curious, and I'm not afraid of playing cards either. I'm a fan of dice games myself." Aito remarked as he watched the others escape.

Kid, you’re an idiot, please shut up. Any savvy person, as you are supposed to be would know that impractical weapons in the hands of a deranged madman can and will be proven to be insanely effective and deadly.

Spectre Scourge placed his hands behind his back, as he turned around and chuckled softly. "Oh believe me, those three will be fine. There is always more than one escape plan..." he stopped as he turned to face Aito once more. "As for the stones, hehe, I myself have no ideas what they'll be used for. You see, I did not create this group to do my bidding, no...I created this little group to allow one to rise up and realize a dream for him to strive for. And these gems and their untold secrets will be the tools for him to do just that."

So, your entire grand plan was basically to put one of your disciples on a fetch quest. Epic destiny doode.

"You have a lot of faith in your henchmen for an arrogant mastermind," Aito sneered.
"You started a criminal group so someone could fulfill a dream? You sound like your trying to play Robin Hood, and even if that is the case, a crime is a crime. I'm sorry Spectre, but you’re coming with me."

Under what power, or for that matter, authority. You aren’t Naoto, she at least had a freaking gun. What do you have? A notebook. Are you going to paper cut him to death? Are you going to lightly fan him with your girly arms? I have no idea where your arrogance is stemming from, but it’s clearly not by being the dominate force in this confrontation.

Also, Robin Hood’s goal was to topple a monarchy and free the peasantry from constant taxes. RH was trying to adjust government, your analogy fails.

"Ahh, but Robin Hood did survive after his feats." Spectre Scourge said, turning away from Aito once more. "A slight factor I nor him share. But...how will you stop me? You see, with you now locking down the hotel because of the Moderation Force, no way in or out will start in 3...2...1..." As if right on cue, the sounds of sirens were heard outside. "Why should I come with you anyway? Perhaps it was in my own plans...that I would not leave this place." Spectre Scourge said.

I don’t quite understand what Spectre’s second statement is about. Unless you intended to say that is was a factor Spectre nor Aito shared, the statement has become very confused. Not that that’s the first time confusion has occurred in this work.

"So you predicted when the Moderation force would appear based on when I stepped into this little act of yours. Now you have no chance of escape, and your bluff has been called. What could you possibly accomplish now?" Aito put the notebook away and started moving towards the thief.

Okay, why? Why move towards him? Do you think he’ll just hold his arms out so you can cuff him? Do you think he’ll just go away quietly, despite saying he’s clearly not going to surrender? Kid, you are a f**king retard of the highest calibre.

Sceptre Scourge smirked and turned back towards Aito, now point the gun at him. "One last dance before this old heart is done! Perhaps a message to give to future deluded fools that follow in your footsteps!" he said, as he shot exactly six cards straight at the High School Detective.

Thank you Sceptre, at least someone in this situation is being intelligent, albeit preachy.

"So it's a simple suicide by cop huh? I was hoping for better old man!" Aito managed to get his notebook up to bat a few cards away and then dance around the last two as he rushed the hostile thief to incapacitate him.

Let’s play physics here, shall we? If the cards were fired at a velocity that allowed them to push a button like the elevators, then one would logically assume that said velocity would allow the cards to embed into weaker textures, such as 3 mm thick cardboard typically found backing a notebook. Aito, not only batted away four cards, but also managed to dodge the other ones despite the fact that the time between firings would be less than or a second each. If we take this logic into account, he should’ve been impaled by at least three of the cards and in no ways could humanly dodge cards fired at such speeds unless he moved as soon as they were fired. He didn’t move, he should’ve been shot.

Also, incapacitate how? He’s a tennis player, and a high schooler. His physique is that of female track runner, which aren’t exactly known for being particularly bulky.

The old man cackled and moved back, as he stood in front of a window. "A message...that tells everyone...that tonight, the greatest thief, Spectre Scourge will also return...but when he returns...the clam shall be descending upon Yugo." he said, with his twisted grin, as he pulled another porcelain clam out, but this time...it was engraved with some wording.

Again, why does he keep bringing his clam out in the open. Also, returns? I don’t seem to recall you making any reference to a prior Sceptre Scourge. So unless you mean Chao, we have another confused statement.

"Sorry, but the public won't get your precious message and you won't be returning." Aito said as he continued to move towards the criminal. Just before he made it within range he tripped and fell straight towards the thief.

The world’s greatest Gary Stu kid detective… tripped. I am, speechless. He’s a tennis player, known for agility. Tripped. He tripped. On nothing. Tripped. Tripped. Tripped. TRIPPED!

"Seems you were wrong...Tantei-san." Spectre Scourge smirked, as he gently slipped the clam into his jacket pocket. "And here we will be..." he began as the two went through the window, the police squadron below them. "This generation's Holmes and Moriarty...a fitting end." With this, Spectre Scourge simply gave one last twisted grin, as the two began to fall.

…

Spectre Scourge's lifeless old body lay beside Aito's, as the Moderation Force investigated who this thief was. To a shocking surprise, they found that it was the retired Moderation Force Chief: Jose Chao. With the autopsy report, they figured out why this happened to be the best thing for the old Chao. A strange cancer was spreading from his heart to his brain, and if it was to continue, he would've died slowly and painfully. The doctors were unsure if it was going to take a year or two years for the cancer to fully spread....it might've taken even longer.

Jose Chao. By taking an educated guess I would say that Jose was in fact supposed to be the one and only JoshIcy right?

Inspector Black, who happened to be under Jose's teachings, wanted to keep this private. He didn't want anyone who looked up to him, or even his only nephew to see him in a state like this. The decision was made, as they kept what happened with Jose's secret life in the dark, saying he died from his cancer.

Yep, definitely Icy. And Black as an inspector, how bout that. No wonder the police force is so ineffective.

However, when Sonic showed at his uncle's funeral, he was the last one left to leave. He placed his hand on the hedge-stone and sighed. "Uncle...I know you had a reason for doing this. But...I'm not sure what that is yet." he said, as he fought back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. "Just know one thing...I will get those other emeralds. And the birth of the clam...the Vongola...will be soon." Sonic turned as he popped the collar of his jacket, heading away from the grave site, heading towards the setting sun.

It’s kinda sad of course that his Macguffin quest is kinda borked since Spectre very kindly forgot to tell him where the Sun-Setting Emerald was. 10/10 quest design you crazy old bastard.

Outro

And for the third time you fail at musical accompaniment. An achievement only ever achieved by the tone deaf, or by people who have no idea how to accompany specific moments like drama or epic struggles.

[hr]

Analysis time. I would like to point out that only by replaying Rainbow Connection constantly was what stopped me going completely nuclear. I would’ve said ballistic, but I don’t quite feel it suited my feelings. Now, I possess an amount of respect for Creator, a hard thing to earn, but I digress. I am at this point in time convinced that this was Sonic’s part. I know for a fact that Creator would’ve been better than this, and it shows, big time.

One of the things that grated on me a bit were two bits of wording that appeared constantly throughout the entire part. Those of course being the term ‘young man’ used to describe any teenaged male under the freaking sun, and the ever constant mistake of using “your” instead of “you’re”. Context is always an integral part of writing, but what is also equally important is getting the right use of apostrophes. “You’re” is short for “you are”, whilst “your” means that whatever the subject matter is, it belongs to the person you are speaking to. It is important to know this fact, so as to not screw it up at every possible turn. As for the ‘young man’ stuff, as I said before, try describing these characters. It’s not precisely hard considering you made half assed descriptions quite a bit.

Aito, freaking Aito. This guy is the epitome of the Stu to very letter. He’s an arrogant egotistical little s**t stain who thinks he’s so god damn superior when he’s so insignificant, it hurts. He went alone to apprehend four criminals with clearly dangerous tools, since they took out all the guards with ridiculous (and improbable) ease. What made him even think he could do it? Just because he solved cases that he most likely had help with? His only inherent flaw was an ego that should’ve snapped his neck. Basically, you just made a character out of pre-2012 Striker. If you wanted us to like this character, you failed. If you wanted us to hate his guts so much that we cheered when he died; you succeeded too well. I shed a tear for Jose, because he at least had depths and flaws, something Aito never even understood.

I am going to warn you now as I have for others: Inserts are dangerous waters to travel. As I said before, if it works you’ve got a reader base for life. If it fails, you are going to get loaded down with incredible amounts of hate mail. It was charming how you perfectly characterized Black and Shard, but those were momentary victories at best. And Chao’s character? I could glue on any other anime protagonist’s head right over his and I’d get the same basic results. But, if that were the case, Goku might’ve been at least amusing for a few paragraphs.

In all, this was incredibly sub-par. The criminal troupe at least absorbed a bit of my interest, but the high school drama crap and the dipshit mistaken for a genius ruined it completely. You failed musical accompaniment three times in a row. You broke a tense moment by the second fail. (And yes, I am perfectly aware that Soundtrack Dissonance exists; but you haven't earned the right to use it.) And crippled a dramatic and somewhat downer if foreboding scene with something that didn’t need to be there. If anything, the third song might’ve fit where the second one was if there had been an epic fight scene. Instead, the protagonist tripped on nothing, and caused them to launch out of a window. If there is even an intelligent criminal, Yugo City is f**ked since its brightest mind literally went the way Dark Heart almost went. And when you die like a toddler, that is the only lasting memory of you.

I’m Broke. N, and someday, I will find my rainbow connection.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Episode 11 2/2: Young Man Aito, Clam Inspector]

Intro

Using intros works better when the song fits what’s about to go down. So are we going to see heated interrogation? Lots of red and yellow? 1NT3R3ST1NG.
 
"You know, I had other plans tonight Inspector."
 
"Sorry to call you out here, but we didn't really have the man power nearby."

Hmmm, whoever this is must have a very important something to be done, if it warrants an apology from an inspector.
 
The young man sighed as he stepped through the store, it was more or less a normal little store on the outskirts of the Organizational district. The owner had called not long after opening shop, a borderline manic tone in his voice.

Welp, the intro lied, there goes 41.3% of your readers. And is this an Alternate Universe I see? As long as it has a plot beyond a meeting at the News Hall. Eh Striker?
 
"So Inspector, you say only one object was taken?"
 
"Correct, the Sun-Setting Emerald. We have a photo of it here, but the reason I called you here was this," the Inspector handed over what looked like a clam, "It was set in the place the Emerald was supposed to be."

Yellow emerald? That seems rather familiar. Hmm, nope, it ain’t-

He already made this joke, didn’t he?
 
The young man took the clam and ran his fingers over it. Oh my, he’s got skills. He looked it over for a moment before turning to the Inspector, "Porcelain, this is a Porcelain clam. Judging by the quality of the store's other merchandise, this is not locally made. I believe that the culprit left it as a message to the police. It's common practice amongst criminals that think they can outsmart the system. I'd send it in for a DNA analysis."

Gee, I don’t think sending it to DNA analysis is of much use after you put your fingerprints all over it. You must be new at this, Ace Detective.
 
"Of course, not much else we can do. The store doesn't even have any security cameras to work with. Honestly, we will have to declare this case cold in no time, without the footage from any cameras."

Didn’t I just say- wait. So you’re not even going to search the place for any evidence either? You have no footage, so; perfect crime right then and there?
 
"Not so fast Inspector, the DNA analysis should help but look around. Close observation will show that this thief wasn't working alone. There are several alterations in the floor's carpeting, which according to the owner's habits, is vacuumed daily before closing."

Sure is a good thing this young man who we can still assume is a civilian knows more about crime scene investigations than the actual law enforcement… despite the clam fiasco. To think I even acknowledged his skill. Bah.
 
"Those were obviously caused by the investigators doing their job, now you can't really use that-"
 
That broken glass? That was me, I was lying on it, my mistake. The missing emerald? What missing emerald?

I think the idiot ball is gaining a bit too much momentum here, even by thriller novel standards.

The young man cut him off, "since when do Investigators wear sneakers and heavyset shoes? No, these were left by the culprits. Furthermore, I saw some minor skid marks in the back, meaning they escaped via a vehicle. I'd be willing to say it was a van or truck of some sort, capable of carrying several people."

I can also deduce by the colour of furniture that they were carrying one or two lavender scented plushies.
 
The young man took another glance over the crime scene, his eyes scanning and breaking down every object within the yellow tape. He eventually turned back to the inspector, "Inspector Black, there isn't enough evidence here for me to name any suspects, I can rule out an attempt at insurance fraud. If you uncover any more clues you know where to find me and how to contact me."

Dude, if he could uncover any clues they wouldn’t have called you. And why is Black, (uh, Modding I guess?) in the Organizations section? I’m a bit offended here.
 
The young man picked up his bag and slung it over one shoulder before heading down the street. I wonder what kind of organization can orchestrate such a clean robbery...and that clam, it's almost like a challenge rather than a tease.

It’s a clam kid; you’re WAY past the teasing by now. Not sure about challenging since your fingers were all over it the second you came… in, though.
 
"And now class, if you will open your books to Page 45, you will see that the Moderation Police force was formed a year following Yugo City's founding. Before then, it was all done by what we called 'Duelists'." the female teacher said, as she tossed a piece of chalk in her hand, looking at the text book. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one hand go up, before breaking into a sigh. "AND NO Mr. Shard, it doesn't mean the Duelists from Yugioh." At that moment, Shard's hand slowly went down. "Continuing..."

Hey, poor Shard. You know he still believes in Yugioh. You don’t see ME telling you YCMaker doesn’t exist.
 
However, after she said continuing, there was a faint snoring in the classroom. The teacher sighed once more, not even needing to look up from the book. She tossed the chalk once more, before she threw it straight at a boy with light brown hair, as it made contact on his head.
 
"AH! W-W-WHAT?! I'm up, I'm up!!"
 
"Mr. Chao...if you would pay attention to your studies as you do your sleep, you might actually start passing your classes." the teacher said, now tossing another piece of chalk, before sending him a death glare.
 
"Jeez Chao, keep snoozing like that and you'll be held back." The young man sitting next to the wind chided as the teacher lectured his next desk neighbor.
 
The young man sighed, before nodding at the teacher. "Y-Yes, Ms. Koko." Then his desk neighbor chimed in after, and he got a bit upset about this. "Oh yeah, and your failing grades aren't something...I mean honestly, your just staring at the teacher's boobs the entire time!"

So here’s where the two stories converge. Also I wouldn’t yell about tits around a teacher if I were you, er… young man?
 
"Don't go dragging me into your fantasies now. You can check my test scores, I haven't made anything less that a 98 all semester. Besides, maybe if you actually did your homework, you'd actually be able to sleep around test times. You didn't forget about tomorrow did you?" The young man turned to gaze back out the window he was conveniently placed by and began to cloud gaze. I'm so bored...
 
The young man stopped short from what he was going to say, as he blanked out.

"Yeah you forgot. If you need me to, you can stop by later today for a cram session." He sighed to himself as he heard the facedesk behind him.

You seem to have a rather heavy inclination for young men I see. I had no idea you swung that way.
 
"Like I need your help! Sonic Chao doesn't need anyone's help except his own!" he said, slamming his hands on the desk, looking back up at the young man. However, this was met with a few snickers and laughs.
 
"incoming another missile mister Sonic..." as he turned to watch the assault connect.
 
"OWWWWW!!!" he said quickly sitting up, only to see Ms. Koko with a very unhappy look on his face, but then again on days like this....when was she ever happy with this lot.

Did you just…? Wow, this is the most accurate grammar mistake I’ve seen in a while. Kudos.
 
"Again," Chao's friend butted in as M(r)s. Koko said the same word. Honestly now, how am I supposed to go over the case in my head with all these distractions...
 
As Ms. Koko was about to continue her lesson, the bell had rung for the class to end. I don’t quite think this is how the conditional works. She sighed as she closed the book. "Class is dismissed. Thanks to Mr. Chao's behavior and outbursts, you are to finish reading from Page 45 all the way to 59." she said, hearing multiple groans from the class. "If you don't want to have reading assignments like this each and every week, I would advise ALL of you to actually get your heads out of your rears and take this seriously."
 
"Chao taking anything seriously would be a miracle." The sarcastic individual said as he packed his books away and walked out the class. He headed towards the gymnasium for after school activities.
 
Later…
 
"Wallace, I found your ball! It hit a moron," A couple of young men in sports uniforms gathered and rushed towards the injured fellow, "You shouldn't worry to much, he looks harmless."

Right, nothing two worry about.
 
Sonic grumbled as he rubbed his cheek, as he picked the tennis ball up with his free hand. "Take your damn ball..." he said, throwing the ball at the first young man, hitting his nose.
 
"Ouch, that must have hurt, Jack never did have the best reflexes..."

Jack, jack… can’t quite say who this would be. I’ll just assume we’re talking about Spades Slick. In which case you’re just plain wrong about his reflexes.
 
That guy is such a deadbeat...he should've joined a real club instead of that annoying host group lead by Link...

Yeah bro, don’t get involved with these shady videogame characters. No vase is safe around that guy.
 
Aito helped Jack up and walked back to the courts to finish the afternoon practice off. A few hours later Aito was on his way home.
 
Those foot marks at the store mean that it's a bunch of newbies, which makes the finesse of the robbery peculiar. They shouldn't be able to pull something like that off, it just doesn't add up. More importantly, that porcelain clam. I'm sure that it was a challenge, but not for the police. Then there is the matter of the stolen jewel. I did some research on it during lunch, the Sun Setting Emerald. It's part of a set of seven stones that are rumored to have peculiar powers...
 
You can’t be… DRAGON BALLS?! Man, can’t believe Broke. N flew past THAT. So obvious. The signs are all there.

Aito sat down at his desk, having made his way to his room after grabbing a sandwich from the kitchen. He had only just booted up his computer when a loud knock came at the door.
 
"Ugh, what do you want Enzax? I told you not to bug me so soon after school."

WHOOO SELF INSERTS. Let’s hope you’re not a Stu.
 
"But brother, I was told to let you know that the Inspector from the Moderation Force called. He said that you wouldn't be able to contact him tonight. Can I please come in?"
 
So annoying...

These damn policemen and their annoying robbery investigations.
 
Aito got up and opened the door before beginning an online search on the missing gem. His search didn't turn up anything he didn't already know.
 
"What am I missing, a certain piece of the puzzle. One clue stands between me and this culprit, but what?"

The DNA test you screwed up, most likely.
 
"Hey Bro, I don't mean to butt into your work but, why not look to see if you can find another one of the Emeralds? Wouldn't it be easy to catch them if you find their next target?"
 
Aito grinned to himself, This is why I always talk to my little brother. Given effort, he could easily surpass me in skill. Especially with his knack for electronics.

Oh aren’t you the modest one.
 
A quick search reveals that there are two more Emeralds in the city, the Rain Calming Emerald and the Storm Front Emerald. The Storm Front Emerald was going to be on display at the YCM Hotel's top floor as part of a larger exhibit. Moderation Forces had been called in to provide additional security for the exhibit. The Rain Calming Emerald was at a local Museum as part of a traveling study on the evolution of jewelry.

Man, it couldn’t be any clearer that these are Dragon Balls. You should have made it a bit more subtle, come on.
 
This group has a flair for mouthing off, as evidenced with the clam. The mastermind also likes to demonstrate the fact that he can take amateurs and accomplish impressive heists. If I'm to follow this train of thought the only logical target is...

The nearest sex shop?
 
"They will most likely target the Storm Front Emerald." Enzax says aloud as Aito's mind comes to the same conclusion.

That works too I guess.
 
"I believe the same think, Little Brother. Try to contact Inspector Black, and inform him of the impending threat. I will head to the Hotel right away."

NO DON’T, LORA!JAKE LIVES THER- oh and you should revise your work for small typos like that.
 
A few hours later...
 
With that, the group turned to leave the 10th floor. The prize they sought was in Sonic's hands and their mission was complete. However, this night was far from over, as the elevator 'dinged' and the doors opened, revealing someone inside.

There’s something here I’d like to talk about later, during the final analysis.
 
The elevator was occupied by none other than Aito himself, wearing his trademark leather jacket and carrying a notebook.
 
"I seem to have cracked the case, and just before the getaway too," Aito closed the notebook and stepped out of the elevator and faced the group, "Now I'll be taking back both of the stolen jewels and you'll be heading downtown for questioning Mister Thief."
 
Nice pick for elevator music.

Spectre Scourge looked at Aito, before his lips formed the twisted grin once more. "Ahh, I see you got my challenge. I applaud you, sir." he said, as he began to clap his hands. He stopped as he removed his fedora, as he put it to his chest, giving a slight gentlemanly bow. "Spectre Scourge, at your service. And your name, Tantei-san?"

Is there a joke I’m missing with the weird honorifics?

Hm, the culprit is caught in the first chapter. CASE CLOSED GOOD NIGHT GUYS.
 
"Well, I assumed it was meant for someone aside from the inspector, so I accepted. I was bored after all. What I find interesting is how you managed to get these new guys to pull off something this big," Aito smirked back at the thief. Looks like he's on the older side, but still a master at his job.

I’m just that damn good, I solve billion dollar mystical jewelry robberies in my free time.
 
"My name, Mister Thief? Detective Aito, well part-time anyway. Now Spectre Scourge, I'm going to guess that you have no intention of confessing?"

See above.
 
"Confessing? I'm sorry, but you must have me confused with someone who is surrendering, Aito." Spectre Scourge chuckled slightly.
 
"B-Boss! C'mon!" one of the young men said. The old man simply pulled out a gun and shot it. However, to everyone's surprise, a playing card came out: the Joker. It hit the down button on the side and the elevator began its descent.

I think bullets would have been a better choice, or maybe chalk.
 
"Now, we have no further interruptions, Mr. Detective." Spectre Scourge said, with his twisted grin.
 
"They won't get far. I've already called the Moderators, the games over. Why don't you explain why you’re going after these stones? I'm very curious, and I'm not afraid of playing cards either. I'm a fan of dice games myself." Aito remarked as he watched the others escape.

I’m not supposed to tell you this, but there’s a pile of twenty five reports just sitting there. You might have to wait a bit.
 
Spectre Scourge placed his hands behind his back, as he turned around and chuckled softly. "Oh believe me, those three will be fine. There is always more than one escape plan..." he stopped as he turned to face Aito once more. "As for the stones, hehe, I myself have no ideas what they'll be used for. You see, I did not create this group to do my bidding, no...I created this little group to allow one to rise up and realize a dream for him to strive for. And these gems and their untold secrets will be the tools for him to do just that."

You see… our true aim is to revive our God… Krillin. Again. This time for sure!
 
"You have a lot of faith in your henchmen for an arrogant mastermind," Aito sneered until he heard that this man wasn't the one in charge. Wait, if he isn't in charge then...did the mastermind disguise himself as a henchman, or is he not even part of this?

You still haven’t figured it out, Ace Dick? Krillin.
 
"You started a criminal group so someone could fulfill a dream? You sound like your trying to play Robin Hood, and even if that is the case, a crime is a crime. I'm sorry Spectre, but you’re coming with me."

Pretty sure what Robin Hood stole wasn’t used for Necromancy or any such questionable majyyks.
 
"Ahh, but Robin Hood did survive after his feats." Spectre Scourge said, turning away from Aito once more. "A slight factor I nor him share. But...how will you stop me? You see, with you now locking down the hotel because of the Moderation Force, no way in or out will start in 3...2...1..." As if right on cue, the sounds of sirens were heard outside. "Why should I come with you anyway? Perhaps it was in my own plans...that I would not leave this place." Spectre Scourge said.

Well you did let this kid touch your clam so it’s good you came… prepared, yes that’s what I meant.
 
"So you predicted when the Moderation force would appear based on when I stepped into this little act of yours. Now you have no chance of escape, and your bluff has been called. What could you possibly accomplish now?" Aito put the notebook away and started moving towards the thief.
 
Sceptre Scourge smirked and turned back towards Aito, now point the gun at him. "One last dance before this old heart is done! Perhaps a message to give to future deluded fools that follow in your footsteps!" he said, as he shot exactly six cards straight at the High School Detective.

What’s with you people not using bullets. You’re not even shooting Yugioh cards.
 
"So it's a simple suicide by cop huh? I was hoping for better old man!" Aito managed to get his notebook up to bat a few cards away and then dance around the last two as he rushed the hostile thief to incapacitate him.
 
The old man cackled and moved back, as he stood in front of a window. "A message...that tells everyone...that tonight, the greatest thief, Spectre Scourge will also return...but when he returns...the clam shall be descending upon Yugo." he said, with his twisted grin, as he pulled another porcelain clam out, but this time...it was engraved with some wording.
 
"Sorry, but the public won't get your precious message and you won't be returning." Aito said as he continued to move towards the criminal. Just before he made it within range he tripped and fell straight towards the thief.
 
Damn, to much momentum! We'll go through the window!

Don’t even BRING UP momentum. At this point the idiot ball has rolled down the hill and just smashed through a small town. You don’t charge a man in front of a window ConanSherlock.
 
"Seems you were wrong...Tantei-san." Spectre Scourge smirked, as he gently slipped the clam into his jacket pocket. "And here we will be..." he began as the two went through the window, the police squadron below them. "This generation's Holmes and Moriarty...a fitting end." With this, Spectre Scourge simply gave one last twisted grin, as the two began to fall.
 
Enzax...I'm sorry for leaving you like this...

That’s it? No sad flashback or life before his eyes or any last crucial Chekhov’s whatevers? Fine, die then! NEXT!
 
Fifteen minutes later Inspector Black arrived on the scene and confirmed Aito's identity. See? The system works! Only fifteen minutes after you called them, and died! Record time, you were worth that much kid. He also found the clam amongst the evidence, and deduced that the man with Aito was the one behind the heists. It didn't take long for the Moderators to close the case. Aito was given an officer's funeral in remembrance of the 53 cases he had helped to solve over the past 4 months. He left behind everything he owned to his little brother Enzax Aito.

I suppose he didn’t get paid for any of that. I mean, it’s not like he did a better job than any known police force on Earth all by himself. Sucks for you, author cameo.
 
At the funeral Black gave Enzax his brother's notebook, the one piece of evidence he had managed to sneak away from the scene prior to the arrival of the CSI team.
 
I know it’s personal belongings and whatnot, but what’s with the one inspector doing everything he’s not supposed to?

"So three others got away, according to my brother's notes. Very well, I'll catch them, and bring my brother's last case to a complete close.

*Thunderclap*
 
Outro

…Okay, I thought it would be about resolve, not the Titanic Credits.

[hr]

Alright, final analysis. Wait, how about I go find some review on Detective Conan instead. And scratch whatever this guy steals in the Manga with Dragon Balls. You really should try and make a balance out of what you draw from and what you blatantly mimic. And if you’re really going to try and set it up on YCM after all, do your homework a little more. It was bad enough when I had to read through YCMCity with Nex a few months back.

Speaking of homework, that first scene was terrible for the poor inspector. Not only was he pictured as a complete inutile, but the one thing he had done right your main character ruined while he showed off his own mad skillz. I know the idea with this kind of narration is that your main character basically outclasses any and all legit law enforcement but… 53 cases in 4 months? Math dictates he solved two cases a week. That’s one busy kid.

Now, I wanted to point out something about double narration. When you go ahead and tell a story from two distinct points of view, I think it’s best that you try to write it so that you do not have to have read the previous one to understand who the characters are. When your detective arrived at the Hotel for example, it went more or less like this:

“THEN SUDDENLY OH S*** SONIC IS THE THEIF”

And that’s not nice. Double Narration makes it so that you can either put in twice the effort and know the whole story, or pick half of it and deduce the rest. Especially given the genre of this work and all.

Well, since Snow Miser here says what the hell am I thinking saying I’m done, I should add some comment on the characters. Wait a second. We don’t know anything about them. The only ones which ARE elaborated on are either: dead, a self-insert Gary Stu, or your standard thriller useless cop. Whoo. *blows on a party noisemaker*

A few clichés, grammar mistakes here and there (snrk), and the whole ripping off deal wouldn’t place this high up in any place that was not YCM, where an insert makes everyone reach for their porcelain clams.

This was Muge.N, and that’s pronounced Moo-gen.[/spoiler][/spoiler]

[The Warden]

Well viewers, after obtaining a headset I found I can accrue decent readings of the fic. So, would you guys want audio readings of all the reviews, or just new ones?

[Tophat Tiger]

Finally, haven't seen this in a while: Fanfic Reviews. In my early days in Forums, this was one of the best ways for one to laugh out loud on a boring afternoon. The sarcasm, the witty remarks, all good stuff that I have felt missing for a while. I never read those of Crab Helmet, but I sure hope keeping up with these ones. Keep up the excellent work, Broken.

 

Oh, and answering your question, I believe you should do both an audio and writing reviews, at least on the case of the new ones. On the old ones, maybe do an audio review when you have the time and when you feel like it, but it is certainly a plus.

[The Warden]

[spoiler=Broke. N's musings]

Writing isn't easy, I for one know this as fact. But, aside from talent, the cornerstone to writing is Passion. You have to feel for what you're working; to feel that you can go on. But, one thing that troubles me deeply, is what happens when you've lost it. For a long time now I have felt many stories, many ideas pass through my head, but, I've just been incapable of putting them down to words. I look at the blank screen of my word processor, and wonder "Why bother? Nobody gives a crap really, and... that's who you write it for. You like the praise, but you also like to know people enjoy what you've given them. You had your time that one time, why bother drawing from the same pot?"

 

To this date now I'm pretty much known for cynically insulting people and just poking holes in everything. I do nothing but destroy with no intent to actually create anything of my own. I don't like to think I've given up, but, I simply don't have the power to keep going anymore. This old hummer has died and been left by the side of the road.

 

I'm not trying to make this Musing entirely about my own melancholy, I'm just using it to draw on ways to wonder why Passion can be destroyed so easily. It's why that, while I don't find Accel I/II all that good, I can be impressed by how it's still going. Keeping Passion alive for so long is a remarkable feat, and maybe my Passion is gone because I don't think I'm writing for anyone anymore. The CC section is dead on a whole, (which puts me out of work a bit,) and there is very little fertility in this dead land.

 

Maybe there are ways to reignite Passion for a short while, but, the one thing I still don't know is how to reignite it for good. To find a new reason to begin once again. Maybe for acclaim, maybe for the joy of knowing people enjoy what you are giving them. Or maybe another reason altogether. Joy is a very easy thing to forget; since it's easier to be sad than happy. It's easier to see the misery in the world than to ignore it. Even if your heart is in the right place, maybe it's just the wrong time.

 

Though, sometimes it makes me wish I had been artist over a writer. They're generally more appreciated.[/spoiler]

[The Warden]

DARKPLANT, you are a complete bastard. I wanted to review this fic first.
 
[spoiler=Episode 12: Count to 20 & DIE!]
Sometimes I almost feel as if you guys are afraid of me or something. I mean come on, over two months now and no new fics beyond a necrobump (or three). I am thoroughly disappoint you guys. But, seems as if courage has set in and some new meat has been put on my plate. Now, I’ll be honest, I love creepypastas. I love all things deliciously unnerving, like casually muttering something about hiding the body whilst you’re in an elevator full of people. Classic. In any case, I am going to take a nice little bite out of Lolithar’s Creepypasta Hide & Seek, but I must be sure to not fill up on bread.

“… 17… 18… 19…… 20! Ready or not, here I come!”

I usually count during sex as well. Though you think she would be ready after loudly counting to twenty.

Samantha’s expression was glowing. Her blushed, speckled cheeks were lifted by a spirited grin that could make a soldier submit in front of his drillmaster.

Umm, what?

Her eyes glistened in the moonlight as she started to find her friends, who were hiding throughout the house during her favorite game of all time: Hide and seek. She skipped down the finished oak flooring in her pink, fluffy socks, not making a sound or even a creek.

Well, I imagine little girls typically aren’t heavy enough to pave out small channels in dirt that allow water to travel through- oh, you meant creak, the noise made when wood bends. My mistake.

Her hands held themselves together against her back, restraining her arms from flailing around from her skipping.

It just isn’t skipping without flailing arms y’know? When one skips you must lift your arms, spirited and free. THAT is true skipping my friend.

It was midnight; much too late for a girl Samantha’s age.

Which is?

But tonight was an exception, for she was having a sleepover. This was Samantha’s mother’s only excuse to have her stay up this late, and Samantha couldn’t be happier with it.

Wait, having a slumber party is the only excuse for allowing a young child to be up late? I wish I knew that; I’d have had a lot more slumber parties.

She always hated going to sleep because she was always full of energy, primarily to play games and watch cartoons. There wasn’t a single light turned on in the house, which Samantha prefers in a game of hide and seek – the game isn’t much fun with the lights on, because in the dark, at least people can sneak around with less of a chance of being seen.

Except the rules of Hide & Seek clearly postulate that you must remain in your hiding spot. If you get to move then you’re playing Spotlight, not Hide & Seek.

The only light that Samantha relied on to see was the moonlight. This made things even more interesting for her to seek out her hiding friends. She imagined herself as a werewolf that, if she doesn’t find her friends soon, she will transform and doom us all. She giggled at the idea, prancing along blissfully and bubbly.

Why do I get the feeling that she is currently covered in blood after murdering her friends and family, and is currently suffering some unusual sick fantasy to alleviate the guilt and/or boredom.

Though you screwed up tenses a little, since there are two present tense words in a past tense narrative.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” she sang, looking around every corner she passed.

I would say something, but honestly, the wording speaks for itself. This girl is clearly a diseased little f**k.

The house was an exceptionally large manor laced with a labyrinth of long hallways that looked endless with the ends of them being shrouded in darkness. A typical guest would look down such a hallway and be driven mad by the sight of it stretching away and seemingly pulling you in, but Samantha looked at it as just another hallway to get from one part of the manor to another.

Well, one can’t exactly be pulled in by the gaping darkness of a long, moist, warm hallway when you’re already stuck in the labyrinth of your sick and twisted little mind.

Over the past few weeks, she’s gotten over her past fear of the dark simply by playing Hide and Seek with her friends every night. She enjoyed every day of it, and from what she understood, her friends did too.

Yes, her ‘friends’ Lady Potatosac & Lord Stoneface. They’re currently holidaying from their home in the land of Make-Believe.

After a few minutes of aimlessly looking, she began pulling curtains, lifting covers, and ducking under crawling spaces. She sighed, though she kept her bright composure and kept searching, “Come on, guys! Can you give me a hint?” Not a sound was heard except from the echo of her own voice.

Isn’t the point of Hide & Seek being the seeking. Being given a clue merely waters down the experience of seeking. And also because they’re probably scared s**tless at the knife clenched in your hand.

A few more minutes passed before she let out a slight grumble, beginning to take heavier, poutier steps, “I’m serious, guys, I can’t find you!” It was when she said this that she saw a shadow fling across the moonlit floor around a corner. Samantha gasped, smiling as she galloped over to where the shadow landed.

“Found you!”

Here’s Johnny!

She whipped around the corner to see her first find in the game. Her friend Stephanie, wearing a turquoise sleeping gown with daisy decorations, laid motionless on the floor by the wall, paralyzed and attempting to blend with the unlit hall.

Yep, she murdered them already. Also it’s lay there. I know it’s weird, but laid is used in the present tense and is a doing word. Confusing, yes. Also, how can a dead person attempt anything beyond being dead?

Stephanie giggled and tugged on her shoulders, “C’mon, Steph! I found you! We got to find the others!”

Stephanie giggled? The corpse? The corpse giggled? And Stephanie found Stephanie? Oh wait no, you just failed to notice you used the wrong name when you clearly did a re-reading of this eh?

Stephanie said nothing, still motionless. Samantha pouted her lips, “Aww, you don’t have to be so embarrassed! You hid very well! Now let’s find the others!”

If laying on the floor dead is hiding very well, then pretending to be a lamp must be the greatest piece of acting ever. I will certainly be recommending little Timmy for his role as the lamp during the next Emmies.

Stephanie still didn’t move. She wore a grave expression, as if depressed from being found at all if not the first to be found.

Well that’s what you get for being dead little Stephanie. Shame on you for being so indecent. I mean dying, how could you? Wow; this is so bad I can’t even be sarcastic about it.

“Okay, you can stay hidden. I’ll go find the others! I’ll see you back in the living room!” Samantha skipped away to continue her search. Stephanie still did not budge. Another shadow whipped across the floor, matching that of a leaf blowing across the window.

A leaf blew past the window. Marvellous. It’s performance must have been so gripping you must have just felt so compelled to share it with us.

The night creeped-

Crept

-along as the moonlight stretched further along the manor’s floors. Samantha’s expression itself could’ve lit the place up, but no such light could be shown in a game as exciting as this.

Her friends are lying on the floor. I dare say this is not so much fun as it is absurdly easy, which I suppose translates to fun for a small child.

She went down another hallway, cloaked in darkness as she snuck along the walls like a cat. She heard a whirring sound like that of a werewolf in need of Ricola. Samantha failed to keep back a burst of laughter from the simile by tightening her lips.

What is it with this little girl and werewolves? I’m pretty sure you need to be sexually active first before becoming a closet furry.

The noise led her to where she thought it was… in the study. This is where her father would go while he is at home and needs to get some work done. Samantha didn’t like it when he was busy at home.

It’s not as if he was providing for his family or anything. No, he just spent his time doing macaroni artworks.

Also, stop adding present tenses to a past tense story. Jake kept doing that and it’s still just as aggravating here.

She would rather have him play with her.

But of course she’s already ‘played’ with him, hasn’t she? Played with him, until Daddy broke. But even after Daddy broke she still played with him, for ever and ever and ever and ever.

Regardless, she snuck into the deserted room – normally she isn’t-

Wasn’t

-allowed in here, but her father was in his bedroom asleep, so she made this an exception. As the wind continued to blow outside, the door leading to the closet creaked open a hint, prompting Samantha to look into it. Her face brightened up again.

“Found you!”

Another friend of hers, Daniel, sat in shame, looking down at the ground before her, pouting. She didn’t say a word.

Daniel is a boy’s name innit? Or do you mean Danielle and just didn’t bother to differentiate?

Samantha frowned, “Why is everyone such a poor sport today? This is supposed to be fun!” Samantha lifted Daniel’s chin up, looking at her pale expression. Her eyes were closed. “Oh!” Samantha realized, “You’re aslee-!” she lowered her voice, “…you’re asleep. I’ll carry you back to the living room.” Samantha hoisted Daniel up by her armpits and dragged her out of the closet and through the study door, onto the carpet in front of the firepit and the leather sofa.

Clearly this isn’t fun Samantha. You’re boring your friends to sleep with what I assume can only be your seventh game of Hide & Seek this very evening. Ugh, I’ll just idle past this crap. Somehow I know I’ll just be repeating myself.

Samantha looked the other direction, “I guess Steph is asleep as well. I should bring her back here, too.” Samantha pranced again back to where Stephanie was lying face first into the hardwood floor, not even snoring, which she usually does, “My my, Steph, this isn’t you to be sleeping this deep…” Samantha snickered with a wide grin, dragging Stephanie over to where Daniel was lying.

“Now to find the last person!” she declared, again, catching herself yelling in hopes she didn’t wake the other two up. Making sure she didn’t, she bolted down the remaining hallway from the living room down toward where the kitchen was. The kitchen was her favorite place in the manor. This was where, at pretty much ANY time, she would walk into it and see her mother cooking something delicious. Samantha can still smell the soothing aroma of chicken noodle soup on days where she was sick, and she would feel better almost instantly afterwards.

Another shadow coming from the kitchen pretty much gave away her last target’s position. She snuck up on the doorway, careful not to spook her and make her run into the next room. She slowly peeked around the corner into the kitchen, finding Flora’s body trying to crawl into the cupboard where the kitchen sink was over, “Found you!” Again, Samantha’s friend was motionless in humiliation, not uttering a word. Samantha groaned in frustration, “Why is everyone being so grumpy!” Samantha stormed over to Flora and pulled her out, seeing she was also asleep. She sighed, “I guess they can’t stay up as late as me. Oh well, I think I should get to bed, too.” She hoisted Flora up like she did with Stephanie and Daniel, pausing as she just passed the kitchen doorway into the hallway. She looked down it and could see her parents’ bedroom door. She placed Flora down gently to glance into the room to see, of course, two lumps in the blankets that were her folks’ butts. As he moonlight revealed the silhouette of this image, she spotted a red stream along the side of the bed. It had a bit of a glare to it, but Samantha figured it out, “Oh, that must be dad’s new robe! He said he’d be getting a new one recently!”

Samantha went back to dragging Flora to the living room where everyone else was sleeping. With that, all four girls were in the same room, three of them asleep and one about to. Yawning and stretching, Samantha saw some red marks on the floor that, precariously, trailed to each of her friends’ sleeping bodies. She put her hands to her mouth, nearly squealing…

“Oh my gosh, you guys trailed flowers in your sleep! You all will be there at my wedding! I love you all! Thank you so much!”

Tears ran down her glowing face as she yawned once more and snuggled next to her pals, savoring the moment, “Let’s have sleepovers every night, okay?” she whispered as she closed her eyes to go to sleep, knowing that tomorrow night, she will still not know that her friends and her parents have been dead for weeks from the plague that hit her state. Embracing her long late friends, their dried-up bloody cheeks kissed hers, which were still blushed and speckled.

Oh wow, I’m pretty sure no one saw that coming. Ugh, well, at least it’s over. Gag me with a spoon already.

[hr]

Analysis time. Thar, I get what you were trying to do, but, the thing is, you failed to grasp the concept, ideal and spirit of what it means to make a Creepypasta. I easily predicted each and every plot point from the word go and the twist at the end was so blatant I’m surprised you didn’t have as the first line of the story: By the way, all her friends and parents were killed by the plague. But she doesn’t know that, so shoosh.

See, what it truly means to be creepy is that you have to pick up on what terrifies people. I have learned recently a good deal about creepiness, and I think I better understand what it means to be creepy. See, things can scare you, because they have a legitimate threat to them. Being attacked by a rabid animal, that’s scary because you know you’re under threat. But creepy; well, creepy is different. To be creepy means you must have an undefined nature, being either potentially threatening, or just simply unnatural. Your intended targets must not be able to understand if this thing poses a threat or not; leaving them in a limbo of being constantly tense. To be creepy means this thing might do something, or it could just be someone’s paranoia at work. (I’ll get into paranoia in a short moment.) What you failed to grasp here is that you went with a tired and sad little cliché any person and their dog could figure out. There was no great overarching mystery, there was no defined or undefined threat. It was just a little girl playing with dead bodies, and anyone can read that if they look hard enough at fanfiction.net.

*Sighes* Sometimes it really hurts to see my favoured genre get brutalized you know? What makes a good creepy story is that you need some undefined and unearthly being or object that your readers have no idea about and thus, don’t know what to think. You don’t know if this thing will harm you or not, and the thing in question will feed on your paranoia as you concern yourself with it. Paranoia is a powerful tool, because it means something is tapping into the fears of your reader. Paranoia causes people to turn imagination into reality. That doll with the really creepy and vacant expression that’s always sitting on the shelf overlooking your bed? It won’t do anything, but it’s the simple inability to 100% comprehend the object as inanimate that there will always be that little piece inside you that fears that doll beyond any sort of reasoning.

Another thing that makes creepypasta, is subtlety(; that, or a really creepy image). Your fic lacked it, so completely so. That’s how I easily predicted it. You should have continued with the fantasy of things. Like, her friends should have been alive in her mind, with only trace elements that they’re dead. Like, halfway through you change the colour of their clothes to red, or maybe have them spill apple juice on them that turns the outfits red. Then slowly you break away the fantasy to reveal a rotting and nearly destroyed mansion, home to a little girl who snuggles with dead bodies. Though in retrospect, THAT is also predictable. What can I say? Creepy little girls only translate well into film and games, since you can’t capture their unearthly nature in text. Well, you can, but it’s pretty damn difficult.

I won’t bother analysing your character, so, I’m just going to finish my piece here. Thar, if you truly intend to submit something to Creepypasta; then scrap this fic and maybe try again. This fic is just one big long cliché that has no place at the side of Jeff the Killer, Slenderman and Smile Dog. When you understand creepiness, or as some have put it, the ‘Uncanny Valley’; THAT is when you are allowed to write Creepypasta. Until then, maybe you should go and try to flesh out your older fic ideas.
P.S. Your writing was very pretty; if that being the only highlight (I guess).

I’m Broke. N, and… what’s that behind you?[/spoiler]

[Thar]

Well viewers, after obtaining a headset I found I can accrue decent readings of the fic. So, would you guys want audio readings of all the reviews, or just new ones?

 

You mean like this guy? Dude, that sounds like a good idea.

 

Sometimes I almost feel as if you guys are afraid of me or something. I mean come on, over two months now and no new fics beyond a necrobump (or three). I am thoroughly disappoint you guys. But, seems as if courage has set in and some new meat has been put on my plate.

 

Hardly new. It's got to be at least a month old. <.< >.>

 

But I think it's more just the one-off doers being either busy or mind-blocked from coming up with good stuff. Granted, you're reviews are pretty intimidating to open, especially when they (the writers of the reviewed fic) open it. I admit, my, wait for it... HEART skipped a beat when I saw this (even though I saw it coming when I submitted it.)

 

If I could lucidly write anytime I want instead of breaking a nerve just getting something on paper, I could possibly write something that is actually interesting, but I'm always stuck during the plotting phase, and improvising always comes out like that bread-vomit you mentioned at the beginning.

[Jake the Sage]

I actually think that it's because school/college is in that most of the writing has gone down a lot- like how role plays are starting to slow down. Also Broken, I'm trying my d*mned hardest to keep things written in the past tense, but any mistakes I'll gladly enjoy seeing/reading you freak out over them.

[The Warden]

I hardly freak out, I just get annoyed since they break the flow of things. You can hardly enjoy a game if every 5 minutes you're hit with a 3 minute cut scene.

 

Then if you can't think fast, why not slow? Most writers don't always have an idea; but when they do, they take the time to flesh it out. Unless that writer is Stephen King.

[Thar]

Then if you can't think fast, why not slow? Most writers don't always have an idea; but when they do, they take the time to flesh it out. Unless that writer is Stephen King.

 

Stephen King writes books like Lil' Wayne says "nigga." His league hardly even makes us hobbyist writers relevant.

 

Also, whether it's fast or slow, I WANT to write things out, like you said in your little "musing" thing, but I'm too aware of my writing being so cliche and stale that the slightest realization of it, I just close the Word document and forget it ever happened. Thinking slowly could bring some good stuff, but I'm not a patient person when it comes to that kind of persistence, and thinking fast gets an idea written out quickly, but there is hardly any thought put into the meaning and there are SO MANY MINOR ERRORS THAT I DON'T EVEN REALIZE, which going back to thinking slowly, the effort to make changes after I finally get it done, but then waste enough time doing so to give my self-opinion a second thought, and BAZAM! goes the story.

 

I want to write. I REALLY want to write. But I just can't get anything good out. Some people may like it for the concept, but that's pretty much it. To me there's a fine line between making something interesting and making something reasonable. Those two almost NEVER show simultaneously in my writing in the rare occasions that it comes out, and I always know that someone's out there to point out the obvious for which I didn't see because I was too focused on getting the damn thing on paper and submitting it before I scrapped the entire thing just from spite.

 

I am only motivated to write when I'm prompted to, and even then I can never zing it without either bullshitting it or missing the concept of the prompt completely.

[Not-so-Radiant Arin]

Huh. No wonder Creative Writing is a dead section.

[The Warden]

Did you ever read much from any of the other Creepypastas? Cause, if not, I'll understand then why you didn't understand what they stand for.

 

See, the thing about them is this: It's our world, our reality. The subjects of the creepypastas exist on earth and are always unnatural. Slenderman, he's on earth. Jeff the Killer? He's on earth. That Majora's Mask creepypasta cartridge? Earth.

 

These unnatural objects exist in and because of our reality, and that's what makes them chilling. The simple paranoia that you may come across them. A good example of this is the SCP Foundation. Pretty much the largest collection of Creepypasta to date, and a good way to learn about creepy or discerning objects.

 

 

Arin: Crab was just as cruel as me if not worse, and people still flourished. I doubt you can link me with CC decay when really, all of YCM is decaying.

[Mugendramon]

Huh. No wonder Creative Writing is a dead section.

 

Heheh. Thinking Broken has authority anywhere and/or that his opinion matters.

 

You see people don't feel oppressed by Broken doing this. People are simply lazy as shit and they don't write anything.

[Thar]

Did you ever read much from any of the other Creepypastas? Cause, if not, I'll understand then why you didn't understand what they stand for.

The only Creepypastas I've seen are Slenderman, Sonic.EXE, the Day Anime Disappeared, and the Hypno Song. Other than that, I haven't read much.

 

Don't get me wrong - I know what creepy is supposed to be, I just misjudged the approach. At first it sounded creepy that a little girl was playing Hide and Seek with her dead friends, but in the end it was just a twisted ending if anything. Nothing too creepy if not just a bit f*cked up. The other thing is that "creepy" is a HIGHLY subjective term. Everyone has their own way of describing creepy, and it's very hard to tell what makes people uneasy, especially in writing. Pictures are a LOT easier, because seeing something triggers fear faster than slowly making it out through a paragraph.

 

Lastly, I'm always VERY rusty. I always take so long to get to writing stuff that I don't have the consistency to actually exercise my writing ability.

[The Warden]

It might seem subjective, but the base definition for creepy is something with an undefined nature or one that conceals the true nature.

[Thar]

It might seem subjective, but the base definition for creepy is something with an undefined nature or one that conceals the true nature.

 

Still, the concept is to make someone feel uneasy. The general definition only sums up its intended nature, not the way the reader reacts to it.

[Not-so-Radiant Arin]

Arin: Crab was just as cruel as me if not worse, and people still flourished. I doubt you can link me with CC decay when really, all of YCM is decaying.

No, but blaming you sounds pretty good.

 

There are a few things why I'm particularly irritated with this: firstly is that you didn't even ask for permission to review. If I was in that position where someone put a review of my work up without asking me first, I'd be pretty pissed. Especially if it hasn't been given the chance to be proofread or analyzed to the point of perfection, which apparently can be equated to mediocrity, and also if it was mentioned in something that serves no purpose other than to degenerate and demoralize the writer's integrity by spouting utter nonsense that doesn't even help the writer get better.

 

[quote]Oh wow, I’m pretty sure no one saw that coming. Ugh, well, at least it’s over. Gag me with a spoon already.[/quote]

 

Even if you already knew what was going to happen, you should at least still be able to critique and give your own personal thoughts on the execution of the project. What's the point of reading/critiquing something if you already know what's going to happen?

 

The second thing is, like I said before, the amount of sarcasm doesn't balance out the need for the writer to get better. When I found an actual critique that wasn't riddled with sarcastic comments because apparently everyone in the galaxy must kowtow to your demands, it's riddled with comments that make NO FUCKING SENSE. Seriously, how is "I’m pretty sure you need to be sexually active first before becoming a closet furry" supposed to help anyone?

 

[quote]Until then, maybe you should go and try to flesh out your older fic ideas.[/quote]

 

This blatantly sounds to me that you just don't care if people get better at writing, just as long as it's still prime material for you to rip apart to make you feel better about yourself. But you also have to understand that people have different tolerance levels to bullshit; some people don't respond well to sarcasm and passive-aggressiveness, but other people can. Some people don't like it when people don't ask for permission to review their work.

 

Basically, all you're doing is just making this place your personal playground with bullets of sarcasm and things that don't generally help anyone. Seriously, what's so wrong about giving helpful, friendly advice to people, instead of attempting to turn them away from writing, like you're doing now?

[Mugendramon]

Seriously, how is "I’m pretty sure you need to be sexually active first before becoming a closet furry" supposed to help anyone?

 

I don't think you ignored me on purpose but.

 

Broken's not exactly doing this for the writer. He is, in a vague way... but this is almost like his own separate writing project. An attempt at humour if you will.

 

And that you simply don't find it funny is... well, why is it something worth complaining about?