TEEN: - Complete spectra

[Ambyssin]

I saw the banner for this. And then I glimpsed the first line. Seems like this is a wild ride that I'd be in for, so of course I had to give it a look see.

red
Having driven through some rougher terrain in my life, this intro here felt some bits of familiarity. I could maybe make an argument that there's a bit too much exposition just starting out here. But, I thought there was enough variety to keep my interested. Like, it's clear that both animals and Pokémon seem to exist here (and that the Pokémon may, in general, not be native to this place at all). And that this is taking place in actual America, judging by the conversation. And Wren driving around "with the squad" to look at schools. I had a brief moment of that and I remember misery.

But then there's Dodger. I low-keyed squeed a bit. But, well, I'm extremely biased toward my favorite duo in all Pokémon. Yes, you are a good boy, and don't let Wren tell you otherwise!

At first I thought this was something military-esque. But, no, it looks like we're in some sort of UB invasion scenario, where Wren's and Mira's lives got turned completely upside down and now they're doing something very, very strange. That top banner leaves me to believe/predict that this has something to do with Lusamine going batshit crazy. Maybe this is an alternate timeline where she wasn't stopped and the UBs get to run wild? Sorry, just speculating wildly.

With all the exposition, I was a bit disappointed that the subject of mutations got brought up between Wren and Mira. If only because I think it could've made for some great shock factor to have someone stumble on a mutant at a later point. But, for all I know, that's not really planned. Besides, the meteor striking the car was a pretty good wham moment that (literally and figuratively) came out of nowhere and brought the snarky chatter to an end. One thing that threw me off was the sentence "Time speed up." I'm... not sure that's the right tense for what you're saying there.

It was when the Lycanroc appeared and Mira referred to it as Lugalgan that I think I finally got the point here that this wasn't just some sort of UB invasion. That, well, this is taking place in the real world. And a bunch of things Pokémon just kind of fell into the world's lap. Assuming I'm not guessing wrong, it's a pretty intriguing concept, I must say. And the duo's sheer terror at dealing with Lycanroc and its magical powers with nothing but good ol' firearms comes across strongly. Made all the worse of course by the sudden transition at the end, leaving the implication that, no, they did not make it out of this situation okay. That's a gut punch, for sure. In a good way.

orange
So, a timeskip. Revealing a surly, grizzled Wren, whose depiction I like so far b/c it takes the surlier parts of her personality from the conversation last chapter and cranks it up to eleven. It also seems that, despite her initial misgivings about Dodger, she made friends with him and got him to break the mask. There's also some interesting expansion on just how the humans tried to adapt to dealing with these things. I find the idea of their "training," equating to Pavlovian conditioning being both pretty funny and spot on. And trying it with Alolan Ninetales (or Vulpix? not really sure) only makes it more funny for me. Again, biased toward certain species. At the same time, the idea of upping Silvally's chimeraism by having versions that are spliced with animal DNA is... like, somehow really amazing and also really meta. As is the implication that they were basically just a mad-made attempt at recreating the mutagenic effects of whatever brought UBs around and seemed to start mutating animals into 'mons. And it makes me feel really bad for Silvally. It's okay Dodger. I love you all the same. ;~;

At the same time, we have a Gladion tease(?) and, if I'm reading Wren's lines right, the implication that, with the loss of Mira, she's come to view Dodger as the only company she seems to need. I... can't really tell whether to think of that as heartwarming, heartbreaking, or heart-wrenching. So I'm going to say D) all of the above and wait for you to mark it wrong on my exam.

The next part, with the introduction of the girl (Vi?) and her, uh, psychic feral? A Solosis, maybe? Or Cosmog/Comoem? Again, while I'm sure the vagueness is building up the suspense and is technically appropriate in the setting, I couldn't get any sort of proper visual from how vague the description was. Nitpick aside, this escort premise is certainly interesting. Exactly the type of thing Wren (and Dodger?) need to challenge their preconceived notions about all of this. While my memories of the movie are a bit iffy, the premise here makes me think of Logan. Y'know, that last wolverine movie. The fact that all Dodger seems able to do is attack with his talons really doesn't help in that regard, but I digress. I'm wondering if that was intentional, since I think I saw Faze mention Pacific Rim vibes with the first chapter.

In any case, this is definitely an interesting read so far. I imagine the group is in for some unwanted, unwelcome obstacles, and that's what some of these other colors will be about. Judging by the banner, it seems like Dodger may be taking center stage. And, I hate to do this to myself, but I'll have to save it for later. I'll just look forward to reading it! ^^

 

[kintsugi]

HEY. WE'RE BACK.

If you haven't been catching up with all the teases on the "what have you written today," I've actually given this fic a fair amount of focus over the past few weeks. Red/Orange/Yellow got some minor tweaks for continuity + to address a lot of the issues that got pointed out in review, and the back half of Green got almost completely redone based on reader feedback + to make everyone's characters there more understandable. Blue just needs some grammar edits, but it'll be coming out sometime this week -- I just wanted to respond to reviews + get the revised Green on people's radars in case the massive jump on continuity makes people confused <3

---

Post-awards review.

haha fun game which awards was it; the one that just ended or the one six months ago :'))))))

While I was able to settle into Turner’s persona quite easily Gladion’s just didn’t interest me as much; it felt like it was there for the sake of being there.

YUP! Looking back on the first draft of Green, I get that vibe too. I ended up rewriting almost all of it; hope it's more palatable.

Your handling of the setting and the world they live in is, again, great, though some more physical details wouldn’t hurt.

yessir

Similarly, the third chapter meant that we didn’t get to know Vi as well as we could have before she shows up in the fourth chapter. I still enjoyed the writing and the dialogue, but I didn’t feel as much for those characters, and the loss of those connections and little details dented the overall reading experience.

My only issue with him really was that the death of ‘Master’ and his life pre-meeting her is not explored that much.

These actually a bit more intentional -- I was trying to sketch out a relationship between two people without showing them in the same scene alone together. Wren/Violet, Wren/Mira, and Mira/Dodger only get exactly one scene where it's just that pair talking, alone, without anyone else around. I end up using the "let's draw these two off to a room together for no reason so they can pour out their hearts" as a crutch a lot, and I wanted to see if I could show people growing closer over time without that happening. I don't know if it worked lol.

And I thought it was a bit odd some of the words he knew, such as anti-septic, didn’t match his failure to understand a lot.

I was playing around a bit with the idea that he'd get very familiar with certain vocabulary given his science-experiment nature, but I didn't have enough space in Yellow to explore it, so it looked sloppy. I ended up cutting that bit out. Thanks!

Some more connections between chapters to further the plot and some more outside of Dodger in the third chapter would improve what is already a very well written and enjoyable story.

I tried to have at least one teaser for the next part/one nod to the previous part in each chapter -- in Red, Turner gets mentioned a lot and [SPOILERS]; in Orange, the ending to Red gets dropped, Dodger being Yellow gets mentioned, Gladion's wanted poster shows up, and spoilers for the new chapters; in Yellow, we see the ending to Red, the ending to Orange, and Gladion appearing again -- I know one of the issues here is simply that the chapters are published months apart and it's easy to miss things, but do you know what else I could do to tie things together better?

The overall effect is that the basics of the narrative end up being a lot more difficult to follow than they really need to be. I began to lose interest in Dodger and his memories because I got tired of reading code.

Coming back to Yellow, and a second reading reinforces my first review. I noticed that the narrative got better when you weren't so hung up on translating everything into poké-perspective. Certainly there's nothing wrong with the action, where the choppy narrative supports the sharp blurts of action - but the narrative got stodgy elsewhere, especially with the word-word-word thing you kept doing.

I attempted to iron out the most grievous ones here, especially the whole WORD-WORD-WORD-WORD stuff. Some of the other more awkward "let's mess with writing as an Alien" things I tried to clean up as well. Jury's out on helmet returning as a concept, but the real noun is something like "power-limiter", which feels even stupider than head-covering, heh.

Main complaint about the third act is that the shift of perspective from Violet to her - well, I think it's a Minior - was awkward. At first glance it reads like Wren thinks Violet is a pokémon, and that confusion breaks the flow ... not least because a human-shaped pokémon would be a pretty damn important plot point. That does need tidying up before anything else.

is clean! I hope! Also cleaned the typos you pointed out. thank you grammar senpai.

That didn't end up meaning what I suspect you wanted it to. If I'm right, you meant to essentially say that people aren't living long and they're tending to grow up faster. That doesn't invalidate the concept of age - nothing ever does, really. And in any case you kind of contradict it later on when Gladion laments having kids on staff.

Yeah, Gladion's arc in Green got very hairy the first time. I tried to get the kid thing to go full circle -- he find that, in this world, kids end up having to act a lot older than they are, but they're all still lost on the inside. Kind of a meta-viewing of how I saw him in Sun/Moon, I guess. Did a lot of editing based on your one comment here, though, so thank you for that!

So what do we take away from this? It's very much a review in two minds. If history has taught us anything, it's that I tend to criticise aspects of your stories that no-one else cares about.

ty iconoclast senpai

Sup, girl. First of all, congrats on the Best Story win! As usual, you totally deserve it. Keep writing forever, will you? I'm here for some award comments, though I don't have too much to add that I haven't said in previous reviews... Well, I'll try.

HEY LOOK IT ISN'T EVEN TAX SEASON??

I'm gonna start with the negative first. We're a little over halfway through the fic now (if the index is still correct, that is), and I think I can say with certainty now that my main complaint about {spectra} is that the balance between the plot and the characters feels a bit... off. There's an epic plot seemingly comprised of a bunch of intricacies that are vaguely mentioned throughout the fic, which is nice, but I keep getting the impression that you wanted/want to focus on characters more, because... nothing really happens, and the timeframe keeps switching around.

...the secret is that there really isn't an epic plot
The original concept of this was a bunch of scenes stitched together for seven characters who don't end up saving the world. Slice-of-apocalypse-life sort of thing. They have sad stories and vague dreams about making things get better, but, despite the fantastic nature of the backdrop, sometimes you get saddled with the fetchquest and crippling guilttrip instead of the wizard who saves the world.
...it's kind of experimental. I'm not sure if it works. I tried to go back and sew the backbone of a plot into the rewritten chapters (now the disjointed, vaguely-mentioned intricacies are more prominently highlighted as the reason that these guys kept meeting up by accident), which I hope brings a more complete feel to the fic?

You do, of course, still have a knack for making my heart sink with your beautiful prose, and I like how you've been using the real life setting inspiration to your advantage. I think, too, that your dialogue's improved a ton in this fic. Your characters say so much in such few words, and that's a hard feat to accomplish, I think. Each POV character sounds distinct and unique to the speaker as well, another hard feat to accomplish.

I've already commented on that chapter and it was extremely well written and heartwrenching, and my opinion on that still stands.

HI MOM I LEARNED FROM YOU

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hey just sticking this in somewhere up front; not to belittle the fact that people have been reviewing and helping me grow as an author for many many years at this point, but I was completely fucking blown away that you made this for me. I still listen to it sometimes haha.

A lot of the work is done by setting this in the “real world” and sticking with just enough apocalypse clichés that it’s pretty easy to fill in the blanks.

MY METHOD HAS BEEN DISCOVERED

Sure some events are skipped, but they aren’t really that important. Mira’s death itself is not important. Wren and Dodger’s reactions to her death are what’s important, and that’s shown in spades. We see enough to understand these characters, more than enough to feel for them, and plenty to understand the plot.

Ahhh! Thank you! This was the spin I was trying to go for, but it was a fine line between "here's only the important shit" vs "here's a bunch of disjoint ideas that don't relate at all!". It took many edits to get here. I'm glad you enjoyed the end product.

Suck it.

<3

But then there's Dodger. I low-keyed squeed a bit. But, well, I'm extremely biased toward my favorite duo in all Pokémon. Yes, you are a good boy, and don't let Wren tell you otherwise!

SILVALLY IS BEST BOYE

One thing that threw me off was the sentence "Time speed up." I'm... not sure that's the right tense for what you're saying there.

le typo is le dead. thank you!

At the same time, we have a Gladion tease(?) and, if I'm reading Wren's lines right, the implication that, with the loss of Mira, she's come to view Dodger as the only company she seems to need. I... can't really tell whether to think of that as heartwarming, heartbreaking, or heart-wrenching. So I'm going to say D) all of the above and wait for you to mark it wrong on my exam.

I can't say this enough -- I'm really glad that the characters feel human + their losses are heart-[touching] here -- integrating small details that you liked, like their squad roadtrips, is a thing I've struggled with for a while and I'm glad that you liked it.

Again, while I'm sure the vagueness is building up the suspense and is technically appropriate in the setting, I couldn't get any sort of proper visual from how vague the description was.

nah, from experience, I'm pretty shit at handling description well on the first pass. I've cleaned that section up a hair to make it less confusing.

Judging by the banner, it seems like Dodger may be taking center stage.

I hope I do not disappoint silvally senpai

 

[Ambyssin]

Alright, let's pick up where I left off.

yellow
This is interesting juxtaposition piece. Very experimental, it feels like. Which is totally fine. It seems like the brunt of this part (Dodger's "perpsective," if you would) is meant to convey more of an animalistic simplicity, replacing key details that would go unnoticed without higher-order thinking and boiling everything down mostly to primal instincts. Sound, sight, and touch seem to be the most abundantly used ones. Sound is also where there's the most disconnect, of course. I do have to confess that something felt a bit off about the parts from Dodger's memories. It feels as though you had written these parts in a first or second-person style, but then you constantly use "his" to refer to Dodger. And when you're combining that third-person label with things like "pack," "Master," "word," and other things that are clearly from Dodger's mind, I get a bit confused and duscked out of the story. Let me offer an example:

Pack outside is quiet tonight.

Pack is full of pups that attacked Master and dented head-covering and bit at his heels, in the junction between foot and leg where two fleshes meet.

If I just start reading this, with no context, it feels like it's supposed to be Dodger's perpsective. But, then I get to to "his heels," and it throws me off completely. This is what Dodger remembers, but it's also not because it's a narrator telling me it? I'm not sure if this had been written different, initially, and you changed the whole chapter in response to reviews? It feels like all the "his" designations should be something else. Either with "Dodger" (which could be taken as very caveman-like and maybe not a good thing), or first/second-person designations. I don't know if that makes sense, but I had to put it out there because it made a lot of the parts feel contradictory to me.

I'll admit, it actually took me a bit of time to realize that these parts were not about Dodger and Wren, but about Dodger and Mira. I needed to see mentions of the control mask to confirm that these memories were far enough in the past that Dodger was still bound, so to speak. Which is definitely heartbreaking since we already know what winds up happening to Mira. There's something so very dog about these bits. You have Mira taking him in and out of a kennel, doing makeshift vet work for him, and teaching him to play fetch. It's completely adorable and I love it and I don't know what that says about me as a person but I don't care. Which makes the next part all the more gut-wrenching, because as it turns out, Dodger's mask flies off in some combination of a fit of rage, and his love for Mira. Since, I guess the implication being left between the lines is that Mira would have wanted him to save Wren, so he goes to do that because he wants to make her happy even though she's now dead. Tragic, considering the masks are meant to come off because "hooray, friendship!" But then it's back to pure dog because Dodger just wants companionship and seems to get that Wren is hurting, so he refuses to leave her. I think it's incredibly sweet. Though I'm a bit confused as to why he can pick up so many things that Wren says when the past memories clearly show him to have a limited vocabulary.

I do like the ending though, with the transfer of "Master" from Mira to Wren and the snap back to the present to show that, yes, the two of them have grown close together.

Yes, Dodger. You are best boy! :3

green
ow. the edge. I'm sorry, I had to it, please don't kill me! ;~;

So, if I'm understanding this correctly, it turns out the mysterious feral I don't think I could identify is a minior? I kind of feel like an idiot, but that's what I get, I suppose. And, doubly-interesting appears to be the fact that this Gladion may just be your average human. He's still got quite a lot of anger to display, but he doesn't seem quite as over-the-top with it. It's a lot more like reading some kind of gang leader, which he is so I guess it all makes perfect sense, then. I also liked the extended sandygast/palossand metaphor thing that went on to describe what happened to everyone when Ultra Wormholes started popping up and dropping all this strange stuff.

Vi turns out to be quite surprising, though. It seems there's a lot more to her than meets the eye. See what I did there? Because her eyes betray her youthful appearance! I'll shut up now. She knows about the UB's and seems to have a pretty good indication of what's going to happen... (a few paragraphs later) Yup, called it. She's an aliiiiiiiiien! Or an actual pokémon trainer. Or she's from Ultra [insert whatever name suits your fancy here]. That said, there's still a lot of surprising revelations to this second half and they all just seem to come one right after the other that I hardly can think of much to say mechanistically. It's so surprising to see that Wren and Gladion (and Dodger, poor guy) actually have history. Incredibly ironic that Dodger was once Gladion's and got stolen from him, given the games. And even more interesting that apparently his family history is pretty similar. Though, I suppose the banner at the top of the story should've made that pretty dang clear. It looks like the key to solving this whole mystery will be Cosmog... somehow. And I look forward to seeing how that'll play out! ^^

 

[kintsugi]

review responses!

Spoiler

It feels as though you had written these parts in a first or second-person style, but then you constantly use "his" to refer to Dodger. And when you're combining that third-person label with things like "pack," "Master," "word," and other things that are clearly from Dodger's mind, I get a bit confused and duscked out of the story. If I just start reading this, with no context, it feels like it's supposed to be Dodger's perpsective. But, then I get to to "his heels," and it throws me off completely. This is what Dodger remembers, but it's also not because it's a narrator telling me it? I'm not sure if this had been written different, initially, and you changed the whole chapter in response to reviews? It feels like all the "his" designations should be something else. Either with "Dodger" (which could be taken as very caveman-like and maybe not a good thing), or first/second-person designations. I don't know if that makes sense, but I had to put it out there because it made a lot of the parts feel contradictory to me.

I was kind of aiming for that disassociation, actually, but I think I went too far. The gist was that Dodger learns his sense of self from Mira; she's the one who gives him a name/noun that is used to refer to him specifically. I think I went too deep into it, but even the order in which he picks up the words in that phrase is supposed to be important: first he's Dodger, then Dodger good, then good boy Dodger, then specifically "a" good boy Dodger, and the very last thing that he learns is that Dodger is. I wanted the style to feel more visceral and disassociated than the first few chapters, and I made the mistake of trying to juggle that + backstory + a character coming to grips with their own existence in a few thousand words -- tl;dr, that didn't end up working very well and I went back to streamline some of the parts that you mentioned in this review (and didn't respond until know 'cause I somehow thought I'd have this chapter done weeks ago).

I'll admit, it actually took me a bit of time to realize that these parts were not about Dodger and Wren, but about Dodger and Mira. I needed to see mentions of the control mask to confirm that these memories were far enough in the past that Dodger was still bound, so to speak. Which is definitely heartbreaking since we already know what winds up happening to Mira. There's something so very dog about these bits. You have Mira taking him in and out of a kennel, doing makeshift vet work for him, and teaching him to play fetch. It's completely adorable and I love it and I don't know what that says about me as a person but I don't care. Which makes the next part all the more gut-wrenching, because as it turns out, Dodger's mask flies off in some combination of a fit of rage, and his love for Mira. Since, I guess the implication being left between the lines is that Mira would have wanted him to save Wren, so he goes to do that because he wants to make her happy even though she's now dead. Tragic, considering the masks are meant to come off because "hooray, friendship!" But then it's back to pure dog because Dodger just wants companionship and seems to get that Wren is hurting, so he refuses to leave her. I think it's incredibly sweet.

kek

Though I'm a bit confused as to why he can pick up so many things that Wren says when the past memories clearly show him to have a limited vocabulary.

I tried to do a passage of time thing -- Red takes place about 15 years before the bulk of the story. In Yellow, the electric memory takes place at the same time as Red. The scenes before the electric memory take place in that nebulous time Wren remembers in Red -- the "forever ago" between squad roadtrips and the Walking Dead. Mira is Dodger's first human, and as such he learns a lot of his words/mannerisms/love of cheerios in that interim period; by the time he gets back to the present day a lot of time has passed.

ow. the edge. I'm sorry, I had to it, please don't kill me! ;~;

IT'S YA BOI EDGY GLADION

It looks like the key to solving this whole mystery will be Cosmog... somehow. And I look forward to seeing how that'll play out! ^^

I feel like I may be misleading you if you think that this is going to be solved...

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

Maia came from a different time, orbiting in the ozone layer with brighter days from before when they had to fight monsters. Years spent drifting in the jet stream, drawn to the tiny, microscopic anomalies that dotted the sky. Minior didn’t always get to choose which of the particles they consumed and added to their shells; particles shot through the air like iron fillings to a magnet. There were some that said minior were the gods’ mechanism for absorbing the despair that permeated the thick atmosphere of this world.

Maia didn’t believe in the gods. Up here, it was easy to see that there weren’t any. Maia found strange particles that floated in the atmosphere and ate them. In turn they found their core changing Color to match the empty skies above.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

Maia had watched minior fall to earthland before. There wasn’t much understanding it, and it always happened to quickly for words. One second, there was the thick, curled rock of a minior against the grassy backdrop of the earthlands below. The next second, they hurtled down, down, down, out of sight and to the beyond. Those who left never returned. There was no explanation. There never was.

Orbiting was a strange life. They were all orbiters on planets, walled off in their own little worlds, a single occupant in an asteroid field with gaps that spanned the entire world. As more of them fell earthward, the gaps became bigger and bigger. The conversations between stars became smaller and smaller. Maia knew they had six other siblings, and that of the seven pleiades that watched over the world in what would later be known as the invasion of the ultrabeasts, Maia was the last to go dim.

Maia orbited the entire world a dozen lifetimes over before they heard the call, and the call was like gravity, drawing them and their heavy shell earthbound, claiming them at last. It was a clump of desperation, twisted into a jagged spear and thrown skyward like a prayer, with no hope of return.

They were dwellers of the clouds and sky, strangers in a strange land so far above the place that everyone else called home. It was easy to watch the destruction wash over the earth without understanding the severity of it; to minior, who only saw in splotches of color, earthlander loss down there was just another blot on the page.

But the minior heard, and Maia responded the only way they knew how.

Shooting stars were made for wishes, after all.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

When Maia saw Her for the first and last time, She was a smudge of color in a sea of fire. Minior were supposed to see the world in oversaturation, hue over darkness, a fraction that they knew would never truly be undefined. But Maia was fascinated by Her, with her violent, turbulent eyes that would be at home in a minior’s core, a gaze that burned through her sweat and soot and blood.

Her eyes were purple, but it was plain enough that she was Red on the inside. Maia understood that simple fact: for your wish to be loud enough to reach up to the stratosphere, loud enough to call a shooting star, you had to mean it with all your heart and soul—your wish was the same Color as you were.

And in a lonely universe, everyone was always drawn to things that they couldn’t have on their own. The thing that fascinated a minior the most was a Color that they’d never find orbiting the stratosphere. There was Pink, and there was Orange, but there was a great big hole where true Red was supposed to be. That was their missing piece, and only the earthlanders truly understood it enough to make it their Color.

Maia saw Red for less than three minutes, the time it took her Color to bleed out into the sands below, not long enough for Her to choke out the entirety of her desperate wish that had caught Maia in the first place.

But three minutes was long enough for Maia to glimpse firsthand what it meant to love and lose from an earthlander’s perspective. There was no time to see more. Around them were strange beasts that seemed to come from nowhere, but Maia knew: if they were as strange and alien as they seemed, they could only come from above. Pokémon could fight, but not like this. There was a creature with the power to liquefy the earth with its punches; another that sucked inward with all the might of a black hole. There was no fighting this.

Most worrying of all was the damage that answering the call had done to their shell. They had smashed into the ground at full speed, drawn beyond reason to her Red. Maia was raw, soft Blue heart like an infant, beating and beating in the open. The beasts were too much. Earthlanders had love and hate; that much they could generate on the flat ground beneath them. But space above their earthland was infinite, and infinity was enough to magnify that love and hate and twist it into something alien and unique, something that was utterly unrecognizable when it came back down to earthland again. The unconditional answering of a wish in the guise of stardust; the manifestations of slaughter incarnate.

And there was the matter of the wish.

I wish there was a world safer than this one for her to…

Red might not have meant her wish literally. She might have been hoping for a metaphorical different world, a brighter future, a happier tomorrow without the shadow of the ultra beasts upon them. Surely she meant it as some strange human fantasy based on a premise as volatile as a supernova.

But minior do not have a concept of fantasy. They are earthlander hearts come to life, who see a world in saturate color swatches, who wear their shells on their sleeves, who are made of stardust and wishes. And so Maia found the daughter in the rubble, a tiny three year-old smudge of a child, spun her deep into their core, and answered the call the only way they knew how.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

It took them seven hundred and seventy-one years to find a world safer than the first earthland. Even for an immortal shooting star, seven hundred and seventy-one years was a very long time.

The girl spent that time clutched close to the minior core, bundled in stasis and blissfully unaware of the universe that peeled past her.

Maia spent that time pondering Red’s wish. Although centuries and space piled up between them and the ravaged planet the two of them had fled, the gulf in Maia’s understanding felt larger. Behind them was all they had ever known—their pleiadic siblings, the entirety of earthland, the remains of their shell. There were new rocks in space, different ones, and Maia gathered these instead. And while their shell was functionally the same, it was irreparably different. The fit was weird.

They drifted. It was a long way across a lonely universe.

The new earthland looked much like the first, splattered blue and green and white. There was a new ozone layer and new earthlanders with the same shades arranged in different patterns, but before Maia could think on them much longer, they heard the call again.

I wish things got back to normal, somehow.

It was there, and it was uttered, perhaps without the known gravity to it, but it was there. And so Maia fell to the new earthland with the weight of a year’s burdens on their shell, through the ozone layer and the rain and the metal between, drawn inexorably to the wish and her true Red.

The impact ripped their shell apart again.

They were in a gap in the trees, at the heart of a forest that bristled with teeth. The new Red died before Maia could reach Her, and the wild pokémon prevented them from getting any closer, but it didn’t matter: She was Red and her wish had been made. Maia knew no other course.

The girl came out of their core then, first shaky steps in a safer world taken outside of a flaming wreck of metal while the minior watched anxiously and the lycanroc hunted their prey.

Twelve years on earthland passed them by.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

Violet grew up jagged. Maia told her what they needed to know, what they had learned. Some lessons came out right; some didn’t. She learned about the names of the wild pokémon they encountered, how to roam across the wilderness.

But she didn’t learn the true lesson, the one thing that Maia wanted to pass on to her. She didn’t learn what it meant to befriend a falling star, because—

There were people who took them in, but they always managed to slip up somehow. The grizzled old man who had been careful, but not careful enough. The military compound that was okay sheltering a little girl and very not-okay with sheltering her pokémon alongside her. The family of three and their cat, who Violet had tried to warn them about, but they hadn’t listened until it ripped them apart with four-inch claws.

—because this earthland had different rules, different lessons. Maia couldn’t teach them all. By the time they met the woman and her beast killer, they had been passed around so many times that it was hard to keep track of who was what any more. Violet found this fact quite sad.

Maia found this fact beautiful. Minior loved meeting other people and leaving them. If an impact ever ripped them apart, it was terrifying and dizzying but it was also beautiful; their cores were revealed to the world but so too were their Colors.

But earthlanders were weird. There were so many of them and, unlike the minior, they didn’t live miles away from each other. They didn’t have to deal with a reality that kept them orbiting in different tiers of the stratosphere. Earthlanders here spent a lot of time together, and with that time they reached into one another’s cores and carved out little spots for themselves to nest in. Except when they left each other, the holes remained, and that made the earthlanders distressed. They covered the gaps in their cores as best as they could, hid the true Color beneath with curtains and bits of brick, because seeing the holes reminded the earthlanders of what they had lost, and being reminded hurt.

When the walls were back, the earthlanders would invite people in again, and in turn those newcomers would pretend not to see the lumpy bits of obvious, fresh construction, until the cycle repeated all over again, until the core was an unrecognizable chunk of wistfulness and hurt.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

The patchwork woman was the first human Maia saw who wore her shell on the outside. Her lumps and scars were chiseled into her stony face, and she’d taken those curtains and worn them like armor. She walked into the door with the air of someone following a call; Maia threw a chunk of rock at her on reflex, to wish her luck.

The patchwork woman hadn’t seen it like that, of course, because at her core she was still an earthlander.

“I don’t trust it, and I sure as hell don’t trust you,” she growled to Violet as they stormed down the rickety fire escape.

“Yeah, and I don’t give a shit,” Violet was snapping back, the words burning on her tongue as if she were a turtonator. She was an earthlander at heart, no matter how much Maia wanted to teach her otherwise. “You think I want to go on this stupid mission?”

“I mean, yes,” patchwork woman was growling, fumbling around in her pockets before pulling out a collection of green paper and passing it off to a man at a checkpoint. “That’s usually what it means when you book a merc to cart you halfway across the country on foot.”

“We don’t need you. We don’t need anyone.” Violet spluttered indignantly, looking over her shoulder—maybe for the orange one? But he’d already left too—“Maia and I are fine on our own. We’ll make it through somehow. We always do.”

The patchwork woman pulled up short. For a moment, just one, Maia could see her core opening, almost enough to see the true Color beneath, and then it snapped back shut. “Listen, kid.”

“My name is Violet.” Her words, all four of them, were indignant enough to drip fury on every syllable.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Wren didn’t turn back. On her behalf, the silvally fixed them both with an alien, mismatched gaze, electrified like the center of a storm. “I don’t know who the fuck you are or what kind of shit you must be smoking. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. No one survives on their own out there. I don’t care what kind of mutant monster you’ve got in your driver’s seat. So you sit the fuck down, stay out of Dodger’s way, and let me do my job, and then no one gets hurt.”

There was a long pause.

“Understand?” Wren pressed.

“Loud and clear.”

“Say it.”

“I’ll do what you tell me to. Scout’s honor,” Violet said, raising her chin slightly.

Good enough. The patchwork woman looked over her shoulder. “Dodger, let’s go.”

As they took the first steps down a road whose length they hadn’t fully understood, Maia asked Violet if she’d ever seen her core to know what her true Color was.

Violet looked away. Maia knew what that meant.

Earthlanders told stories about the parts of themselves that they’d buried. They imagined grand adventures for them, somewhere out in the void where they got to be fearless and unbroken, but they were always too scared to actually fly into space and look to see what had happened to those craters. Not because they’d forgotten where to look—no, it was the exact opposite. They knew precisely where their cracked cores had gone. Locked away beneath brick walls, starved of light, those parts were so desiccated and unrecognizable that only the nostalgia was left to glue them together.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

Violet was whispering in her sleep again.

There were brief, brief moments where Maia recognized that they weren’t all children of this apocalypse; that Violet hadn’t grown up like the children on either earthland had. She still cried in her sleep and let her brain waste energy on nightmares; that was a luxury she’d been able to afford because Maia was able to keep the terrors away. Violet cried about the past. Earthlanders were supposed to hope and cry and dream for the future, right? That’s what dreams were for.

Maia circled the sleeping girl gently. Dreams were nothing to be afraid of, after all. Maia had always wondered if Violet dreamed of that other world, with that other Red who must’ve loved her so much. Did she remember? Did she ache the way Maia didn’t?

There was a sharp growl behind them, and Maia realized that they had strayed too deep into the territory of the silvally. Maia chirped out a rushed apology, and then—

The patchwork woman was whispering in her sleep, too.

And the silvally held watch, jagged Yellow of his crest barely moving with his breaths. He curled protectively around the patchwork woman’s fretful form, and his mismatched yellow eyes pierced Maia through. They spoke two languages from two worlds whose gap would never be bridged, and yet Maia understood the intent perfectly. It was like looking in a mirror.

Maia’s gaze turned to the patchwork woman, and the silvally’s turned to Violet, and in that instant, an understanding was reached: they weren’t all here for the same reasons, but they were all going down the same path.

Looking at the silvally and how he clutched his earthlander close, Maia wondered if perhaps they’d gone about thinking of earthlanders the wrong way. They didn’t just sew themselves up, stitch their wounds shut to keep others from infecting them until just the right moment. It had to be more than that; otherwise, they’d never last against the sea of nightmares that plagued them.

Maia warbled to the silvally: What does she dream about?

And the silvally growled back in words that the minior could not understand, but it didn’t stop Maia from guessing because—

the same thing yours does. The times before. The good times.

—because the earthlanders hid in patchwork houses made of the happiest moments of their lives, and the very knowledge that they’d never get those times back made them cry out in their dreams only for the monsters around them to hear.

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It wasn’t until Maia journeyed halfway across this earthland—the ground way, with the earthlander’s feet setting the pace—and watched Violet tell their impossible story to the patchwork woman and Green eyes that they truly understood.

When they were finished, Wren looked at them, hard. Her eyes had always been unreadable but this time they were made of flint.

“You landed on a truck.”

A pause.

“In a wolf-infested forest.”

Another pause.

“And the impact stranded the ones inside.”

Maia didn’t have words to explain the gravity of the call, and Violet didn’t have the memories to explain them. So instead they watched Wren turn robotically out of the doorframe she had cratered of her own volition and slowly go downstairs. The silvally followed.

Violet stole one last glance at Gladion, their ticket home who only took a currency none of them had, and then ran after her. “Why are you just running off like this?”

“You’re just a kid. You wouldn’t understand.”

“I just told you that my entire homeworld got wiped out by the monsters that are ruining yours.” Violet’s voice was as hard as stone. “Try me.”

Dodger yowled, harsh, he swiped at the girl. There wasn’t any of the ferocity in it, and his claws remained firmly sheathed, but even Violet understood the message sent.

As the two earthlanders stood, panting hard and glaring at each other, their stony shells knocking against each other like mismatched puzzles, Maia understood the last piece.

“I’ve lost people, Violet.”

Minior knocked into each other and flaked off parts of their shells and then rocketed away, never sure if they’d see each other again.

“I know.”

But after a long time of inviting other people in and seeing if their cracks matched anyone else’s, earthlanders finally realized that they didn’t, and they never would. But it wasn’t because they’d protected too little of themselves. It was because they’d shelled up too much, because there was no trace left of who they used to be.

“I loved her.”

The first time was always weird. Earthlanders reached down into the shattered detritus of their homeshells and found a twisted, broken fragment, put it approximately where they thought it was supposed to be. And it didn’t fit; it felt weird; it didn’t even look like how the old shell used to. But it felt right, somehow, as if they’d taken the first step toward being whole again.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a world of pain and suffering filled with monsters out there, and earthlanders refused to believe the easy solution of lying and flying high above it, in the stratosphere where troubles couldn’t reach. And minior couldn’t believe that either. Maia might’ve believed that in the past, that it was safer to hole up and wait until the world changed itself, until it screamed so loud that the stars above could hear it, but not anymore. They understood. Earthlander hearts were a mess of recollections and memories welded together into an impossible shape, a chimerical mess that no creature alive could ever understand, but the trick was when they reached down and willingly showed their Colors to the world. When they dared to wish again.

“I know.”

Earthlanders loved the world around them, even as it pushed them away, because it reminded them how to love themselves.

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prev || next​

 

[Ambyssin]

'Solving' was just my go-to word. Maybe I should've said, "the key to mucking everything up?"

Onto blue (favorite color, kinda biased) and the perspective shift is really hammered home here since we actually have the use of minior instead of some sort of made up variation. I also like the little quirks, such as the use of the vaguely alien-sounding "earthland," and the fact that minior can only see through colors. Would explain those freaky-deaky eyes of theirs that... don't really seem like actual eyes, to be honest. The whole thing is surreal and kind of trippy, especially since you're taking minior to its literal extreme as a shooting star to make it into a granter of wishes. But, that's really effective, because it didn't hit me that we were seeing a different world (a world with Pokémon, not the one the other parts have taken place in) until the word Pokémon was actually used. So, seeing that this is how Vi actually found her way into this world is really cool.

It also offers some nifty little insights, like how Maia views Wren ("patchwork woman" just made me bust a gut), or that she seems to be acting as a protector and a conscience of sorts toward Vi. Or that it would seem she and Dodger can't accurately communicate since they do actually come from different worlds. But that there's an element of nonverbal communication that she can get down pat. It's also another sweet Dodger moment, b/c Dodger is a good boy. Best boy. <3

“You landed on a truck.”

A pause.

“In a wolf-infested forest.”

Another pause.

“And the impact stranded the ones inside.”

WAIT. Is this saying what I think it's saying? Because, if so... I legitimately did not see that one coming. Aww man, poor Wren needs a hug. And it ends on a cool comparison to miniors, with their own cores and the steps taken to protect them. I really did like that sort of foundational use of minior's main gimmick being translated as a way they interpret the world around them. I'm sorry I don't have more to say about this overall. I apparently can't words properly. But it's all very interesting to see. ^^

 

[kintsugi]

responses!

Spoiler

'Solving' was just my go-to word. Maybe I should've said, "the key to mucking everything up?"

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup

The whole thing is surreal and kind of trippy, especially since you're taking minior to its literal extreme as a shooting star to make it into a granter of wishes. But, that's really effective, because it didn't hit me that we were seeing a different world (a world with Pokémon, not the one the other parts have taken place in) until the word Pokémon was actually used. So, seeing that this is how Vi actually found her way into this world is really cool.

!!! hurray! One of the real struggles I had between Yellow chapter to today is nailing down writing non-human/surreal narrators that can get that feel across while also still conveying information. Thank you for your advice with this stuff!

It also offers some nifty little insights, like how Maia views Wren ("patchwork woman" just made me bust a gut), or that she seems to be acting as a protector and a conscience of sorts toward Vi. Or that it would seem she and Dodger can't accurately communicate since they do actually come from different worlds. But that there's an element of nonverbal communication that she can get down pat.

[It's also another sweet Dodger moment, b/c Dodger is a good boy. Best boy. <3

ALL SILVALLY ARE BEST BOYES

WAIT. Is this saying what I think it's saying? Because, if so... I legitimately did not see that one coming.

HEH. (emphasis mine)

“I know it’s stupid, but I wish things got back to normal, somehow.”

“We'll make it through somehow. We always do,” Wren replied nonchalantly, her attention suddenly caught by a streak of blue above them. She sensed rather than heard the chimera’s warning growl—that much should’ve made her stop in her tracks.

And it ends on a cool comparison to miniors, with their own cores and the steps taken to protect them. I really did like that sort of foundational use of minior's main gimmick being translated as a way they interpret the world around them. I'm sorry I don't have more to say about this overall. I apparently can't words properly. But it's all very interesting to see. ^^

thank you thank you!

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“Turner didn’t respond to my messages for months, my scouts left and never returned, and just when I’ve given up all hope,” Watari said as he stood up from his desk, his fingertips quivering, “my little Wren comes back from the dead with the cargo in tow.”

His eyes were trained on the minior, and it was hard to disguise his hunger. He’d been waiting so long to see this specimen in the flesh. When he’d heard that, of all people, Gladion had managed to bridge the gap… well. Watari wasn’t renowned for his patience. That impulsiveness had caused a few incidents, but it always worked out for the best, hadn’t it?

Blue. Interesting color; that was out of the ordinary. A good sign. He’d take it. In some cultures it meant good luck.

Wren nodded her head in a stilted sort of bow. There were new scars around her eyes, ones that still made Watari cringe beneath the numbness. “Glad to be of service,” she said in a voice that was as serious as he remembered, but her lips quirked up into a smile. That usually meant she was happy, right?

“Normally, I’d ask for tales of your adventure, but we all know how the saying goes. It’s about the destination, not the journey, right?”

Wren was still glancing around the room, probably looking for hidden assassins beneath the wallpaper. Always a survivor, that one. “I don’t think that’s how it goes.”

He chuckled, striding toward them with his arms outstretched. “Polite as ever, Wren.”

“Watari, you haven’t aged a day,” Wren said, shoulders closed as she reached for his hand and shook it instead. Her laugh sounded harsh on her lips. Or did it? She turned back to the minior-holder. “Looks like this is your stop, kid.” The half-smile faded almost instantly when she saw the stricken expression on Violet’s face. “What’s wrong?”

Maia was chirping in frantic alarm, the rocky plates barely holding in the silvery light trailing behind her. Violet’s arm snaked out and clutched the meteorite close. “I don’t trust him,” she whispered, words that probably weren’t meant for him.

Watari blinked. Trust. What did that even mean in a time like this?

When he looked up again, there was a heated conversation going on between the two travelers. Wren was leaning forward slightly, her eyebrows creased to match her ropey scars. “Violet, I’m sorry we keep passing you off like this, but Watari’s good. Turner trusts him.”

“That doesn’t mean you trust him.”

The chimera was growling as well, but Wren hushed him with a flick of her wrist. Watari blinked; it was humbling to see such an imperial beast play puppy to such a human. Perhaps it had forgotten what it was meant to be: a sword against monsters. Or perhaps it had remembered the truth: that some monsters weren’t conquerable. “Look, kid. Watari’s an old friend. This place looks secure. You can finish Turner’s fetchquest and I can go on my way.”

“Where are you going?” Violet held minior close to her chest and tried to make her voice sound less reedy than it was.

“There’s nothing there for you.” Wren brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ears and glanced out Watari’s office window, where the soft breezes of the Bay beckoned. “You saw the same shit I did when we were coming through here. San Francisco’s overrun. I’m gonna go to Canada and kill as few things as possible to get there. And you and Watari are going to stay here and figure out how to save the world.”

“Come with us.”

The response was even more immediate than Watari had expected. “No. Last time I tried to do things for other people, I lost the only thing that I’d loved for myself.”

Violet’s words slipped out, like they’d been a flock of ribombee that she’d suddenly let go of all at once. Watari imagined catching each of them and pinning them to the wall, where he could study them properly. “Wren. Please. I want to stay with you.”

Inspiration struck. He suddenly knew how to break them apart. He needed the minior, and the girl needed the minior; that much was obvious by the way that she clutched it to her chest. So then he needed the girl. That much was clear. What was it Turner had said? “Young Violet, the world needs you here.”

“Stay with us,” Violet whispered pleadingly. She wasn’t even looking at Watari.

“I’m not going to be able to protect you from whatever’s after you, Vi.” Wren turned away and shoved her hands in her back pockets, letting her shoulders do the rest of the talking. “If even half the stories are true, you’ll be better off on your own. Maia’s got your back.”

“It’s not just about that.” Violet wilted. “I just thought…” She trailed off. “I thought we’d be able to travel together more. I thought we’d get to see so much more. I’m tired of getting passed around. Forget this all. I’ll go with you to Canada.”

“Watari will look after you, and you’ll be safer than you’d be with me, kid. You and Maia have the key to fixing things, and we’d be stupid to risk you.”

There was a long silence. Watrai watched with narrowed eyes as Violet picked over her words carefully, opened and closed her mouth, and then finally let them tumble out: “After you ran off in the Skull hideout, Gladion told me about Mira. You don’t have to—”

Wren went rigid. The chimera roared, an animalistic cacophony of five different species at once. Yellow crest glowed gold and hummed; the sizzling scent of a summer storm slipped into the room. The lights overhead sparked and flickered as the creature’s fur stood on end, bristling around talons sharp enough to cut air.

Watari took a step backward. Flinched away from the clear source of power in the center of the room, the static he could feel gathering in the air. Painted his smile away at the stricken look spread across Wren’s face. No, the silvally remembered, and he needed it as far away from this room as possible. Placidly, like he wasn’t twisting the knife deeper, he turned back to Wren. “Your ride is ready. Turner’s drivers don’t like to be kept waiting.” Pause. He waited for the girl to get it. She didn’t. Fine, the little voice in his head whispered, push more. “Thank you for bringing her safely to me. Your job here is done.”

The girl’s eyes widened as she made the connection, and then her face went perfectly blank. “That’s what Turner promised you to make you take me here,” she said. “I thought you cared.”

Wren recoiled like she’d been slapped. “I did care.” Pause. “I mean, I do.” The silvally shifted its weight uneasily back and forth, perhaps sensing her distress. Its crest dimmed back to a dull yellow. “I got you this far.”

“You were using me as your ticket out.”

“And you were using Turner’s hopes of rebuilding humanity as your ride to a planet that you’ll never reach, kid.” Her eyes portended an impossible storm, the likes of which perplexed Watari almost more than the chimera’s did. “This is the kind of world where things don’t play out the way we wish they did. What, you wanted a badass montage of us going through the wilderness and fucking up ferals together? Tough. People are full of shit sometimes. You know that as well as I do. Make a wish on a shooting star and it kills you. Sometimes the only right thing to do is look out for yourself.”

“I was going to help you guys before I left! There’s a huge pokémon that lives inside of the wormhole; it can shred these fucks in a heartbeat if we can just find it. I didn’t mean—”

“Wren!” Watari called. Quickly. If they made up now, it’d only be that much harder for them to fight again. Better to split them before they had the chance. “It’s time to go.”

“Yeah,” Wren muttered darkly. Shouldering her pack, Wren turned away and clicked for the silvally, who hesitated only a moment longer before following after her. Neither the woman nor the beast-killer watched as the hardened girl cradling a fallen star began to cry.

Watari watched, and smiled.

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“The girl seems very attached to you,” Watari said conversationally as they walked past the pristine white halls of the laboratory, the soles of his loafers almost ghost-silent compared to the sharp clack of Wren’s steel-toed boots or the scraping of the silvally’s talons on the tile. Conversation was good. Watari was bad at it. Specimens hadn’t been good company. “Have you travelled together long?”

“No.”

“Understandable,” Watari said. “I’d offer you a tour, but it seems hardly appropriate. I imagine you just want to be on you way.”

“Thanks.”

Watari ran a quick mental calculation. They’d been walking for five minutes; it was going to be hard to time this right, but it was the best shot they had. “Tell me, what are your plans now?”

“Canada.”

Canada?

That was a new one. Watari rolled the word around. Canada. Canada. Wren seemed upset, though. Betrayed, by the girl’s parting jab? Angry at herself? Wary of him? Watari didn’t know. He wasn’t one for reading people very well. It didn’t matter. He’d gotten what he wanted. Watari waited a few moments more, and then prodded her a little. “You aren’t very talkative today.”

The fuck was a Canada?

Wren shrugged. “Talking was never really my strong suit. Now that this is done, Dodger and I just want to head out.”

That was a reasonable response to the situation. It didn’t mean anything peculiar. Right?

Right.

They took a left turn in the hallway.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that this is a major breakthrough for us. With the data from the girl and her pokémon, I dare say the tides will finally turn.” No need to say anything more elaborate than that. No need to tip his hand when they were this close; he just had to keep her interested.

“Ah.” Wren walked awkwardly alongside him for a few more paces, and then asked the question he’d been dreading. “How does your lab still function here? San Francisco was practically overrun. We barely made it out alive just trying to run through; even a colony this small would still attract enough ferals for it to be a threat.”

Hmmm. That was a question she probably didn’t want to hear the answer to, actually. Some truths tasted better when they were buried deep. “I do what I can,” Watari said.

“Vague as ever,” Wren muttered under her breath, raising her shoulders a little.

“You always knew I was.”

One of Wren’s hands snaked for her back pocket. “Watari, what are the encryption passwords you used to contact Turner?”

“RKS-772-198,” Watari rattled off.

“Watari, you really haven’t aged a day.”

Watari laughed mirthlessly. “It’s all internal, I assure you.”

“And there’s no one else here in your research lab,” Wren said.

“Oh, you know how grad students are.”

“Graduate programs stopped being a thing around a decade ago.” Another pause. Her arm was drifting slowly back up now. “And this place was pretty much an overrun block of ice after the kyukon incident.”

Watari frowned. “What do you mean? Kyukon?” The syllables didn’t fit well on his lips; the kuh-yuu sound rasped too long against the top of his mouth.

The hallways really did turn silent for a bit, and Watari bit his traitorous tongue. What had he called it? The secret password whose power wasn’t in the letters, but how you said them?

“I dunno, that was the name you chose for it.”

Shibboleth.

Watari rolled his eyes, a distinctly human gesture that was practically on reflex. “Oh, hell,” he let his lips mutter, and raised his hands in the air to make it look like he was surrendering. It didn’t matter. Wren had lost thirty-five seconds ago. “Where I come from, we call it ninetales.”

Wren tilted her head to the left, her other hand still frozen behind her back. She’d finally noticed what she should’ve: that neither of them could hear the sharp click of the silvally’s talons on the lab’s tiles. “Don’t move,” she was saying, her gun in Watari’s face immediately, but her left wrist was seized by something cold and damp, like living rope. The bullet that she fired went wild.

“This body remembered how smart you were, but he was hiding it. He almost managed to save you,” Watari’s mouth said, smiling. “That’s okay. It’s too late for all of you now.”

An unceasing stream of violent swears was slipping out of Wren’s mouth. Humans were always so talkative. The gun fell out of her spasming fingers and clattered to the floor. Eyes watering, she reached with her other hand for the knife on her belt, but another tendril wrapped around her arm and pulled it back. She sank down to her knees, only now noticing the silvally’s feeble struggles out of the corner of her eye. “Watari,” she rasped out, looking up at the expressionless face of a man she had once known. “How long have you been dead?”

His fingers stroked the edge of her face gently, curiously. Up close, beneath the nerve-endings of Watari’s fingertips, humans here felt so… soft. “Like you said, Watari hasn’t aged a day since you last saw him.” He stepped back, his features twisted into a satisfied smile, and the jellyfish-like shadow of a creature rose up behind him, pale as death with indigo streaks, starry shapes twinkling in its ectoplasm in hypnotic spirals. “The pain will pass, Wren. The venom will only paralyze you. Nihilego does not require you or the beast-killer as a host in order to finish Nihilego’s plans, and it seems that this body still bears you enough positive feelings that it will fight Nihilego should Nihilego try to inflict permanent damage. You will not suffer. You will be free to go once this body has ensured that the girl is compliant.”

Wren blinked against the black spots that were threatening to encroach upon her vision. “What… what do you want with her?”

“Her minior is the last one in this galaxy, the last remnant of Alola,” Watari’s mouth said, still smiling. “Our beacon. It and its brethren have led us on a magnificent dance across the galaxy, with the inhabited worlds between us for us to devour while it chases wishes. When one of their kind flies from us through deep space, it gathers enough cosmic energy on its flight that it can be used to rip open the last wormhole in Cosmog’s stead. This one was lost for so long, but Turner found it. Nihilego will devour it, a sacrificial offering on the altar of our gods. And with that, the final rift will open and the last of the Ultra Beasts will descend to lay waste upon the world at last. Celesteela will burn your seas, Kartana will shred your survivors, and Guzzlord will devour those who remain. It has all happened before, and it will soon happen again.”

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“I know it’s an Ultra Beast, but how the fuck are we supposed to fight it?” Violet was whispering in low, terse tones as she paced around Watari’s vacant office. “Maia, that man was a shell, and that thing is too strong for us.”

The minior warbled back.

“Nihilego,” she muttered under her breath like a curse. A thrill of pride surged through Watari’s body at the fear that its name instilled. No humans on this planet knew it, but to hear it uttered with the reverence it deserved felt so, so right. Watari stood frozen in place right next to the door of his office; she hadn’t seen them yet. “No wonder Gladion seemed confused when we mentioned the purple one. It should’ve been the first, but it was hiding. They let Buzzswole destroy things while they hid the puppetmaster somewhere else. They’re getting smarter all the time. What do we do?”

The minior trilled frantically, the cracks around her core practically shivering with life.

“I’m not doing that,” the girl said in a strangled whisper. “Maia, we can’t. I can’t.”

Nihilego’s tendrils were trailing down the walls from the ceiling, reaching out hungrily for their prey. The minior needed to be undamaged, but that was what the humans were for.

The minior trilled again. The girl looked at the minior despite herself, and the star began humming urgently, the song almost tripping over itself with frantic drive.

“I know! You’re right!” she burst out in frustration, her voice thick. “But I wish—”

One note, deeper than the rest, like the rumbling of stones before a storm.

My, my. They were certainly planning something. Time to act.

The doors flew open behind them, and Nihilego’s tendrils snaked along the floor, leaving translucent streaks of poison across the tile, wrapping around the girl’s ankles. The numbing effect of the poison would take place shortly. It was over. “Tell your minior to stand down,” Watari’s voice said, but Watari wasn’t in there anymore. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, little girl, or your friend will be dead before you can blink.”

The silence hung. None of them were looking at Watari. None of them cared about Nihilego.

The girl looked at the minior. “But are you sure?”

The comet bobbed up and down in short affirmation, and then crooned something gently.

“I know,” the girl murmured. “You too.” She sniffled and then straightened up, squaring her shoulders. Watari watched something in her eyes ripple, like the surface of water seconds before the breeze ripped it apart. “Shields Down.”

The minior whirred into action. The interlocking plates hummed to life, shifting location, freeing blinding blue light that washed out the stunned expression on the girl’s face. The heart of the star opened wide, and then whispered something very important.

“Violet—!” Wren choked out before the tendril around her neck squeezed tighter.

Violet clenched her fists by her sides. Her breath hitched as she chanced one last longing glance into the core, the light of a faraway galaxy filling her eyes. She shifted her gaze to stare defiantly at Watari, purple eyes not of this planet locking with the monster that had ruined them. The remaining, spinning fragments of the star’s shell solidified between the girl and the minior like an impenetrable wall.

In a broken, clear voice, she said, “Maia. Explosion.”

Blue light filled the room.

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prev || next​

 

[Beth Pavell]

Back for Blue:

That was their missing piece, and only the earthlanders truly understood it enough to make it their Color

Either that was a physics reference I don't understand (Entirely possible), or it was just a bit trite.

I suppose I might as well get the critical bit out of the way, though I haven't wanted to write it. Less is more, is the summary. There are a lot of observations on the human condition in there. I honestly didn't notice any obvious contradictions, but then I'd also have to spend some time ironing them all out ... once or twice can stick a knife in to see humans from the perspective of a kind alien. All the way through, and to me it read like hammering the point home.

The point here is that I don't think you needed it. You've always been better when you haven't tried to consistently break hearts all through a chapter. You've usually got a good ear for how to break hearts through banality. Maybe this chapter ended up overlong because the internal story wasn't big enough but the spectrum demanded a substantial Blue chapter.

The use of minor's internal narrative, complete with different metaphors for a creature that lives life in an entirely different way, was largely effective. I think you got carried away with some of the "wish upon a star" paragraphs. I can hardly make head nor tail of this one:

Most worrying of all was the damage that answering the call had done to their shell. They had smashed into the ground at full speed, drawn beyond reason to her Red. Maia was raw, soft Blue heart like an infant, beating and beating in the open. The beasts were too much. Earthlanders had love and hate; that much they could generate on the flat ground beneath them. But space above their earthland was infinite, and infinity was enough to magnify that love and hate and twist it into something alien and unique, something that was utterly unrecognizable when it came back down to earthland again. The unconditional answering of a wish in the guise of stardust; the manifestations of slaughter incarnate.

If history has taught us anything, it's that you'll find a way to polish this up after you've stepped back from it. I'm inclined to think if you had a regular beta reader this polishing would end up being done before publishing. Kind of why regular betas are a valuable find, these days

 

[Beth Pavell]

I think I finally figured out a couple of things about this story. The first is, like all your writing, it reminds me of watching a Christopher Nolan film. Even if there's aspects of it I don't like, at least I'm engaged, and the story assumes I'm intelligent enough to want to be engaged. That's kind of why I wasn't looking forward to my review of Blue, because it seems like I spent a lot of time complaining about the narrative that I don't think quite worked.

Trust. What did that even mean in a time like this?

Everything. When nature's the enemy, humans have to band together more tightly than ever. Your hunter-gatherer ancestors could have told you that, mate.

This is the second thing - spectra is kind of like the apocalypse story {some rise by sin} wasn't - the one where society ends up going all Mad Max, everyone's either hard-edged or amoral, and despite the putative efforts at retaining civilisation there's nothing good left in it any more. I think that's the reason I've been having trouble really settling into it. I suppose it bears repeating that in this sense I am once more the iconoclast.

Indigo makes the full swerve to cosmic horror, I think. Looks like my thoughts in Green were accurate then - that it was, essentially, foreshadowing. The change has been reasonably well-paced, I think, given that the story has been told essentially in vignettes. It reminds me a little of Made in Abyss, albeit in a much colder, more cynical way. It's reminiscent of Lovecraft insofar as the story follows events barely within human comprehension ... but the deliberate villainy of the Ultra Beasts is less Call of Cthulhu than something involving demons.

 

[kintsugi]

Back for Blue:
Either that was a physics reference I don't understand (Entirely possible), or it was just a bit trite.

Not quite physics, but more based on the fact that for whatever reason, Minior don't really have a true red form even though that's the first color of the rainbow:

pink vs red is a debate I'm willing to enter, but the phrasing there came because I liked the concept of minior having a bunch of colors at the cores except red, and basically all humans being red on the inside in a visceral sense... I'll clean this up.

I honestly didn't notice any obvious contradictions, but then I'd also have to spend some time ironing them all out ... once or twice can stick a knife in to see humans from the perspective of a kind alien. All the way through, and to me it read like hammering the point home. The point here is that I don't think you needed it. You've always been better when you haven't tried to consistently break hearts all through a chapter. You've usually got a good ear for how to break hearts through banality. Maybe this chapter ended up overlong because the internal story wasn't big enough but the spectrum demanded a substantial Blue chapter.

I actually wasn't intending to break hearts with this chapter, heh. This is supposed to be Maia nonchalantly describing their journey through a few hundred centuries while unintentionally letting some details slip that reveal how intertwined their story actually is to the main one.

The use of minor's internal narrative, complete with different metaphors for a creature that lives life in an entirely different way, was largely effective. I think you got carried away with some of the "wish upon a star" paragraphs. I can hardly make head nor tail of this one

This, in conjunction with the fact that you read this as a heartbreak chapter, leads me to conclude that I'll be taking Blue back into the shop to do some tinkering. Thanks for your honesty!

I think I finally figured out a couple of things about this story. The first is, like all your writing, it reminds me of watching a Christopher Nolan film. Even if there's aspects of it I don't like, at least I'm engaged, and the story assumes I'm intelligent enough to want to be engaged. That's kind of why I wasn't looking forward to my review of Blue, because it seems like I spent a lot of time complaining about the narrative that I don't think quite worked.

Haha, very fair. Thanks for sticking with me anyway.

Everything. When nature's the enemy, humans have to band together more tightly than ever. Your hunter-gatherer ancestors could have told you that, mate.

This was actually intentional! I swear! The whole story here is about how humans are learning that the only real answer is sticking with each other through the worst. Turner genuinely regrets his actions in the past and keeps inviting Wren up to Seattle to stay with him, Gladion basically starts a giant orphanage of rebel children after his original plan to lone wolf things goes kaput, Violet keeps trying to find a forever home (with progressively worse luck, but she does keep trying). Even Wren couldn't bring herself to get rid of Dodger even though he was a) a huge reminder of the worst day of her life b) a big shiny neon sign that made her instantly recognizable when her job is to keep a low profile and c) a large blender that at the time was as trustworthy as the ninetales that wiped out her last gig. The loners get punished, and punished hard -- that's what happened to Watari, and that's the fate that probably would've come for Wren had things gone a little differently. Maia's conclusion on humanity eventually becomes basically everything you're saying here, I think? -- sometimes bad shit happens and rips you apart, and you want to shell off and do your Mad Max hard-edged shit. But you have to open up and trust again. You just do. That's how life goes.

I wanted people to stop at this line and be like "hmmm, this perspective feels different and wrong to everything presented so far", because, in hindsight, the perspective is different and wrong This isn't Watari speaking; it's Nihilego. Nihilego gets to sit and ponder what humans mean by trust like this, especially in a time like this, because Nihilego is 1) an alien entity that for the most part spends its existence destroying worlds and has no reason/need to trust anyone and 2) currently controlling the mind/body of a human meatsack and abusing the concept of human trust to the utmost to its own ends. I didn't want the control aspect to feel like it was coming out of left field, so I wanted to drop hints early -- this is the first one, but Nihilego (like Maia and Violet) also refers to Dodger as "silvally" instead of the common "silvady", which starts up a few paragraphs after this quote.

Does that context justify things more? I wanted this to be clear in hindsight once the chapter reveal was given, but I can turn up the obviousness if needed.

 

[Beth Pavell]

Thanks for your honesty!

Fair's fair, you're honest with me. Which reminds me, I do intend to post replies, but work's been tiring me out and I've had to prioritise mod stuff. Spoiler alert: I agree with most of it.

This isn't Watari speaking; it's Nihilego

In fairness, I mostly picked that line because it neatly moved the review into that area - it makes sense in the context of Nihilego.

If the intended message is that people need to stick together, I don't think it comes across strongly enough in spectra, at least not for me. I think ... at least at the moment ... that there are two reasons for this:

1. You don't really see any success of people working together. This might be because you've dropped the hammer so hard that you haven't left much space for that. We see Wren the most in this story, and she spends most of her time surviving as much because she's badass as because of Dodger.

2. I'm not sure about Dodger as evidence for this. Gaia succeeds as the warm heart of {some rise by sin}, so obviously it doesn't have to be a human to do the heavy lifting ... I can put it no plainer than I can't see much in this story that looks worth saving. The little acts of kindness or the attempts at normalcy among the rubble.

Perhaps Wren is part of the problem, not because she's a bad character, but because she's so hard-edged you wouldn't catch her singing a song just because it's beautiful and human. I don't have any clear answer. It's a difficult problem to solve

 

[Flaze]

Okay so, I was a dumbass and didn't realize that the first part of this review got erased while I was writing the other part (with quotes and everything) so...I'll just give a quick run down of Green while I'm at it.

Anyways, I felt really bad when I realized that I'd missed not just one but three chapters of this, so here I am.

Green

The only thing out of everything I said in the quotes I gathered is that DODGER IS A GOOD BOY, WREN, GIVE HIM A BREAK.

Anyways, I didn't expect to actually see Gladion here, especially an older, wiser Gladion at that. In a way I shouldn't be surprised since you have repurposed a lot of elements from the games, but it was still a nice touch to see how the edgelord has grown since his time as a...well, edgelord.

The chapter also dropped a lot of interesting hints in regards to Wren’s and Gladion’s past, though I’d actually like to know the full story behind their friendship and how Aether works in this world. The chapter in general is very tightly written and is able to give us enough information about what Vi is after as well as show us enough info on Gladion to be able to connect with him, but I kind of feel like it still leaves a few things up in the air that I don’t think will fully come up.

Description wise I really loved how you described Gladion’s back and forth with Vi and how he was sizing her up trying to figure out what she wanted and just who she was, plus even if he’s grown up you can still see that edgy, troubled kid in how he can be cold and dismissive but also very caring and understanding when he doesn’t feel threatened.

Other than that, Vi still seems like a mystery and while her conversations with Gladion and Wren are pretty fun, I feel like at this point (still haven’t read the future chapters) she still ends up coming off more as the rebellious teenager who secretly has the power to stop everything and who’ll most likely get Wren to soften up. Which is good enough by itself, don’t get me wrong, but I assume we’ll learn more from her in the three chapters that come up.

Blue

Maia had watched minior fall to earthland before.

Earthland is a pretty interesting way to refer to planet earth, but it makes sense, though it does make me wonder how Minior know what earth is to be able to give it a proper name.

Orbiting was a strange life. They were all orbiters on planets, walled off in their own little worlds, a single occupant in an asteroid field with gaps that spanned the entire world. As more of them fell earthward, the gaps became bigger and bigger. The conversations between stars became smaller and smaller. Maia knew they had six other siblings, and that of the seven pleiades that watched over the world in what would later be known as the invasion of the ultrabeasts, Maia was the last to go dim.

One of the things I really liked about this chapter is how tight the prose is and how you're able to convey so much in only a few lines. Here you get across that Maia was one among many Minior and that with time they ended up becoming the only one left and that way you're able to enhance her own loneliness that she still hadn't fully come to accept at the time.

And in a lonely universe, everyone was always drawn to things that they couldn’t have on their own. The thing that fascinated a minior the most was a Color that they’d never find orbiting the stratosphere. There was Pink, and there was Orange, but there was a great big hole where true Red was supposed to be. That was their missing piece, and only the earthlanders truly understood it enough to make it their Color.

I actually hadn't realized that the "Red" Minior is actually pink and I think tying red to humans is a very creative way of showing how they're different from Minior (and maybe Pokemon in general) red of course being tied to passion (amongst other less positive things) which is usually treated as a human trait.

Pokémon could fight, but not like this

When I read this the first time I was confused by the fact Maia referred to them as Pokemon, but after reading the rest I realized that this is a good way of hinting the not so distant twist to the reader.

It took them seven hundred and seventy-one years to find a world safer than the first earthland.

So...Violet is old is what I'm getting.

There were people who took them in, but they always managed to slip up somehow. The grizzled old man who had been careful, but not careful enough. The military compound that was okay sheltering a little girl and very not-okay with sheltering her pokémon alongside her. The family of three and their cat, who Violet had tried to warn them about, but they hadn’t listened until it ripped them apart with four-inch claws.

Violet's led a pretty tough life o.o the last part specifically was shocking a good jobd of highlighting what they've been through without having to go into too much detail.

Earthlanders here spent a lot of time together, and with that time they reached into one another’s cores and carved out little spots for themselves to nest in. Except when they left each other, the holes remained, and that made the earthlanders distressed. They covered the gaps in their cores as best as they could, hid the true Color beneath with curtains and bits of brick, because seeing the holes reminded the earthlanders of what they had lost, and being reminded hurt.

I actually have no way of commenting on this paragraph aside from the fact that it left me speechless. Though it is a little too direct towards the end.

Looking at the silvally and how he clutched his earthlander close, Maia wondered if perhaps they’d gone about thinking of earthlanders the wrong way. They didn’t just sew themselves up, stitch their wounds shut to keep others from infecting them until just the right moment. It had to be more than that; otherwise, they’d never last against the sea of nightmares that plagued them.

It's called scotch, Maia.

In general this chapter left me absolutely floored. In retrospect it acts as a good parallel with Dodger’s chapters, they’re both focused on the Pokemon in the story and they both explore what their respective human means to and how they’ve come to understand humans.

In fact, you kind of make this obvious by having Dodger and Maia actually interact, which I think wasn’t necessary, like I liked the subtle approach you were going for and I think leaving it at the two of them understanding one another through their gazes was enough without them having to speak since (unlike other fics *cough*) you actually haven’t shown your Pokemon speaking outside of their heads.

Aside from that, Blue gives us a very subtle but also very big explanation of what Violet is and where Maia comes from. I, again, shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that they’re from what we know as the Pokemon world after it was devoured by the Ultra Beasts, it’s fitting and makes sense both with what we know of the UBs in the lore and what we’ve seen so far. Plus, it’s another fun way of playing with our perception and expectations of things (and you really really like your big interdimensional concepts don’t you?). What I wasn’t too clear on is Violet’s age when she and Maia left. She acts like she misses her home and has a lot of memories from there but she was either taken as a baby or as a toddler. Of course, memories of her mom and what happened must’ve been ingrained in her head, especially since Maia hasn’t hidden the fact she’s from another world, but it would be nice to see her memories of her world addressed once her chapter rolls around.

Maia crashing into Wren’s and Mira’s truck and being essentially what caused Mira to die is…interesting. On the one hand it feels a little too convenient and kind of causes it all to feel like fate that Wren and Violet had to meet, on the other hand it’s a nice bit of foreshadowing that makes that moment a lot more interesting in retrospect and it helps add connection to Violet and Wren, something we haven’t gotten to see much since the story skips around, so I’ll forgive it.

Of course, all the plot and character revelations aren’t nothing compared to the big old wad of THEMES and FEELINGS engraved into the chapter. I didn’t expect the fifth chapter to be the one relating to how humans and Minior aren’t that different and that we like to hide ourselves in shells that we create so that others can’t see our true natures, only for that to push people away and cause friction, which is in turn awkward since everyone wants to be accepted even though we have a tendency to push each other away.

As stated in the quotes though, it can feel a little heavy handed at times and maybe you make it a little too obvious. Granted, it being the core theme and stuff you’d want the reader to realize it but you’ve left things up to readers to decipher before. I think you still handled it in a very mature way and well, it actually kind of moved me to tears if it’s worth anything so even with its flaws I am all for it.

Indigo

Watari blinked. Trust. What did that even mean in a time like this?

Guess Watari didn't get the memo on what the underlying theme of the fic was.

“Look, kid. Watari’s an old friend. This place looks secure. You can finish Turner’s fetchquest and I can go on my way.”

I wonder if Wren just associates things with game related terms because it allows her to detach her feelings from them.

“Where are you going?” Violet held minior close to her chest and tried to make her voice sound less reedy than it was.

“There’s nothing there for you.”

I actually love how Wren instantly knows that Violet is going to ask to go with her if she actually tells her where so she just chooses not to.

“It’s not just about that.” Violet wilted. “I just thought…” She trailed off. “I thought we’d be able to travel together more. I thought we’d get to see so much more. I’m tired of getting passed around. Forget this all. I’ll go with you to Canada.”

This...this one didn't actually hit me. If anything because we actually haven't seen Violet and Wren travel, we kind of skipped through most of it in Dodger's chapter so we haven't had much detail on how their relationship has evolved and why we have to feel bad that they're separated. I mean, I care on principle since I care about both of them and we can see where it's going, but I feel like there isn't enough there to make the connectoion weigh down on me.

“And you were using Turner’s hopes of rebuilding humanity as your ride to a planet that you’ll never reach, kid.” Her eyes portended an impossible storm, the likes of which perplexed Watari almost more than the chimera’s did. “This is the kind of world where things don’t play out the way we wish they did. What, you wanted a badass montage of us going through the wilderness and fucking up ferals together? Tough. People are full of shit sometimes. You know that as well as I do. Make a wish on a shooting star and it kills you. Sometimes the only right thing to do is look out for yourself.”

Well the badass montage would've helped a ton. Also pretty sick burn at the end there, Wren.


I think the most obvious thing about this chapter upon reading it is how different Watari’s POV is from the rest of the characters. Of course, your old banner and the chapter itself throw us hints on the twist, but I really liked how Watari’s more selfish and detached point of view acts as a contrast to everyone else, who’s been more focused on their problems and the things they’re trying to figure out about themselves.

This also makes Violet a lot different from the other chapters. Since Watari/Nihilego have a more external outlook this is really the first chapter that’s felt like it’s more focused on moving the plot along, whereas the others both moved the plot along but also explored the POV’s motivations, issues and beliefs. In a sense this causes the chapter to feel a bit flat and simple compared to the others but based on your response to Pavell’s review, that was your intention all along. Plus, pondering about love, grief and what it means to accept others is nice but you gotta get the story moving at some point.

Nihilego being the mastermind is this chapter’s homage to the game’s (it being the final boss and stuff) and it’s fitting considering that unlike it’s brethren it’s not big or particularly destructive. It fits with Nihilego’s Poison typing and its ability to control and take over other’s minds too. Though, this does cause it to come off a bit as a cliché villain but again, that doesn’t seem to be the focus here since it is just an alien that’s trying to devour another planet. Though revealing that it was actually due to Maia’s presence near earth that they attacked was a pretty nice twist.

Either way, the next chapter is the big finale and will also focus on the more intriguing (for me) character in the story. I can’t wait to see how (or if) Violet survives the big explosion of blue death and what we’ll learn from the journey.

 

[kintsugi]

responses!:

Spoiler

If the intended message is that people need to stick together, I don't think it comes across strongly enough in spectra, at least not for me. I think ... at least at the moment ... that there are two reasons for this:

These are fair. I think I was exaggerating when I said "sticking together is the entire point" or whatever (the more accurate message is pretty hamfisted in the final chapter + the blue chapter, I think), but I did intend to portray a more wholesome apocalypse than the one in SRBS. Your subpoints here are fair enough and I don't take this to be an ideal example of people being jolly old chums; I think the fairer point is that this is far more of a middle ground as far as edgy loner apocalypses go then what Watari/Nihilego's narration makes it out to be?

Okay so, I was a dumbass and didn't realize that the first part of this review got erased while I was writing the other part (with quotes and everything) so...I'll just give a quick run down of Green while I'm at it.

Anyways, I felt really bad when I realized that I'd missed not just one but three chapters of this, so here I am.

new phone who dis

The chapter also dropped a lot of interesting hints in regards to Wren’s and Gladion’s past, though I’d actually like to know the full story behind their friendship and how Aether works in this world. The chapter in general is very tightly written and is able to give us enough information about what Vi is after as well as show us enough info on Gladion to be able to connect with him, but I kind of feel like it still leaves a few things up in the air that I don’t think will fully come up.

...they won't come up, probably. Which parts do you want more on? I struggled with keeping the pacing tight here vs keeping adequate amounts of information in the story, but if there are gaps to be filled, I'd like to fill them.

Earthland is a pretty interesting way to refer to planet earth, but it makes sense, though it does make me wonder how Minior know what earth is to be able to give it a proper name.

It's not a proper name, haha. They're two words that mean "dirt".

I actually have no way of commenting on this paragraph aside from the fact that it left me speechless. Though it is a little too direct towards the end.

Yeaaaaah. When I get on my prose horse, I get on it hard.

What I wasn’t too clear on is Violet’s age when she and Maia left. She acts like she misses her home and has a lot of memories from there but she was either taken as a baby or as a toddler. Of course, memories of her mom and what happened must’ve been ingrained in her head, especially since Maia hasn’t hidden the fact she’s from another world, but it would be nice to see her memories of her world addressed once her chapter rolls around.

She's about three years old when she gets shipped off of Alola -- the events in Red take place twelve years in the past, and she's fifteen now. You start forming memories that you can keep around age three, and traumatic events like watching your home burn down and losing everything you love tend to be painted a bit more vividly, so I thought it would work.

Maia crashing into Wren’s and Mira’s truck and being essentially what caused Mira to die is…interesting. On the one hand it feels a little too convenient and kind of causes it all to feel like fate that Wren and Violet had to meet, on the other hand it’s a nice bit of foreshadowing that makes that moment a lot more interesting in retrospect and it helps add connection to Violet and Wren, something we haven’t gotten to see much since the story skips around, so I’ll forgive it.

Oops. I meant for it to be a lot less like fate -- sometimes random bullshit happens that's absolutely out of your control, like a star deciding to land on your girlfriend.

As stated in the quotes though, it can feel a little heavy handed at times and maybe you make it a little too obvious. Granted, it being the core theme and stuff you’d want the reader to realize it but you’ve left things up to readers to decipher before. I think you still handled it in a very mature way and well, it actually kind of moved me to tears if it’s worth anything so even with its flaws I am all for it.

Working on cleaning this up, and hoping that the reprise in Violet isn't too heavy-handed for ya either.

Guess Watari didn't get the memo on what the underlying theme of the fic was.

I mean he's a possessed sack of alien at this point, so.

I wonder if Wren just associates things with game related terms because it allows her to detach her feelings from them.

Heh. I actually wanted her to use it because it shows how much she still holds on to those lost things in the past, and also because "fetch" is a bit of a recurring theme in this, but I like your interpretation better.

I actually love how Wren instantly knows that Violet is going to ask to go with her if she actually tells her where so she just chooses not to.

Yay! I wanted to show that they've actually gotten to know each other really well by this point, even if I haven't shown them talking.

This...this one didn't actually hit me. If anything because we actually haven't seen Violet and Wren travel, we kind of skipped through most of it in Dodger's chapter so we haven't had much detail on how their relationship has evolved and why we have to feel bad that they're separated. I mean, I care on principle since I care about both of them and we can see where it's going, but I feel like there isn't enough there to make the connectoion weigh down on me.

Yeah. I figured I wouldn't have much emotional weight because, like above, haven't shown them talking -- the hope was that this would have enough weight to make sense in-character for two people who know each other well, but not tug at you/the reader's heartstrings because you don't know them at all.

Well the badass montage would've helped a ton. Also pretty sick burn at the end there, Wren.

lol rip

Either way, the next chapter is the big finale and will also focus on the more intriguing (for me) character in the story. I can’t wait to see how (or if) Violet survives the big explosion of blue death and what we’ll learn from the journey.

<3

and for my final april fool's prank, I shall finish a story.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -​

“I thought I’d find you here,” Wren said. Beside her, Dodger’s talons dug sharp gouges into the wooden planks of the wharf.

Violet ignored them and threw another rock into the bay.

So that was how it was going to go. Sighing, Wren stood next to the girl, staring at the rising and falling waves and trying to figure out what to say. She remembered staring off of San Francisco before. The pier was one of those places that looked like it was always changing, but it never really did. She put her hands in her pockets and looked out to the bay, feeling the breeze tickle her scalp.

The last frantic moments in the Aether labs were a blur. Paralyzed, she’d been far too slow to react in time, but Dodger had done it, somehow. He’d leapt toward her, eyes like two sharpened shards of silver, the glint of steel in his crest and the poison rolling off of his body in rivulets. That’s all she’d had time to see before he collapsed on top of her, but she’d heard the rest—the force of a star gone supernova.

When she’d managed to pull herself out of the ashes, there wasn’t much left of the lab but dust. Dodger had helped her look, and together they’d managed to find the pillar of stone that had once shelled off a girl, tracked the trail of broken rubble that led back down to the bay. Wren hadn’t been sure what she’d been expecting, but when she saw Violet there, alone, the mixture of relief and despair was almost as crushing as the rebar and concrete had been.

Wren shifted her weight uncomfortably. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off.”

The waves were capped with white foam as they threw themselves beneath the dock. This was the kind of salty sea breeze she’d been missing holed up in Sacramento, the feeling of the wind threading around her ears and making her feel like she was back in her twenties, trying to find a cheap beer and a good time.

“You would’ve liked the pier back then, I think. It had this big avenue of shops that sounds like that place you mentioned back on your world, and there was always something new. Vendors would come up in that square on the weekends, and there’d be a farmer’s market by the ferry port.” Mira would always drag her here, half-asleep, and they’d buy an open-faced tomato sandwich or some fresh ice cream or whatever else was available. These were the dreams that kept her in bed half the time.

Seeing it here, with lines of char from where the trees had sprouted legs and cleared paths through the road, great roots sinking into the ground and tearing up the trolley tracks, it was unrecognizable, which somehow made the whole affair less sad. Out of the corner of her eye was the bridge that used to span the bay, now diving headfirst into the ocean. The lines on it were too clean to be ripped apart from the ferals; even now, it was easy enough to see that it’d been severed out of desperation, the kind only humans truly knew. Wren had listened the news reports, back when the broadcast system was still standing. Palm trees breathing dragonfire, mutated sea-spiders four feet wide crawling out of the shores. An impossible choice that was ultimately not enough to stop the infestation from spreading. It wasn’t really worth pretending they’d ever stood a chance, honestly.

There was another plop as Violet dropped a rock into the ocean.

“You know,” Wren said instead, turning a pebble over in her fingertips. “You have to have a bit more of a flick in your wrist if you’re trying to skip them. You sort of wind back your arm like this, and then—”

The next rock that Violet threw skipped seven times before vanishing from sight.

“Oh, so you are good at this already.”

Wren had no idea what to say here. Mira had been the one who wanted kids; Wren had always just followed along. Dodger had been a joke, almost, like how couples were supposed to start with a dog, but none of that had worked out as planned. And now here they all were, in some way or another.

“I didn’t do any of that for you back there,” Violet said quietly, drawing one leg close to her chest and letting the other dangle so that her toes were just skimming the surface of the bay. “None of it. Do you hear me?”

“Thanks anyway,” Wren said. “And I do mean that. Mind if I sit?” No response. Wren sat, letting both of her legs dangle over the dock. “You two kicked ass back there. A lot more people would’ve died if it hadn’t been for you. They don’t realize it yet, and maybe they never will, but you and Maia saved a lot of people.”

“Fuck people.”

“I would’ve died.”

“Fuck you.”

Because that was the funny thing about grief, really. It ignored logic, brutally, and left you reaching after things that had long ago flown from your grasp. It would’ve been a lot easier to look out from the ruined wharf and see just that: ruins. But Wren couldn’t quite trick her mind into doing that. Even when the memories were so faded that they may as well have been made in watercolor, she can’t stop herself from filling in the pieces of the cratered road so that a younger Mira and a younger Wren could ride their rented bikes across it. A few blocks down, young Wren would take a turn a bit too sharp and bust her lip open on the curb, the first scar of many.

On that day, Mira was wearing a blue shirt with the logo for Death Cab for Cutie meandering across it in white ink. Her jeans were scuffed a little from when she’d tripped getting off the ferry, and she had the crumpled up receipt from the brunch place they’d visited that morning sticking out of her back pocket. She was laughing with the same ease she always was, even balanced precariously barreling down the bike lane, even frozen in a memory, head thrown back and hair lost as an offering to the wind.

Her face was a blur.

“So what are your plans now?” Wren tried instead. “I can take you wherever. I don’t think my job is actually done yet.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Can’t do that. I promised an old friend that I’d make sure you were safe.”

“You know, when you left me and Maia alone in the Aether lab, I wasn’t even surprised,” Violet said in a cold, distant voice. She squared her shoulders and leaned one hand forward on the dock, so that as much of her back was facing Wren as possible. “I watched you turn away, and the funniest thing was that it didn’t even hurt because I’d expected it. Everyone else in my life had already stopped loving me; why would I expect any different from a merc who takes whoever pays her most?”

Her words were like a slap in the face, hard enough to cut through the canvas that held the image of Mira on it. “I wouldn’t lump me in with them.” Wren said quietly. If she was the kind of person who forgot her shame easily, it’d be all too easy to bury the rage with which she’d almost burned the bridge to Violet. But Wren had never been that kind of person. “Hate me all you want, fine. I deserve that. But your mother loved you very much, Violet. Enough to carry you across the universe away to a completely different planet, enough to keep protecting you even there. Losing you probably broke her heart.”

“Yeah, and instead I get you,” Violet shot back darkly.

Dodger hissed, perhaps finally sensing the tension in the air. He had a nasty habit of knowing precisely when Wren was angry, and making sure that, no matter what mask she tried to wear, the world knew she was angry too. Wren opened her mouth to reply, but bit back the retort. She knew how it felt to love and to lose and lash out at people. And Dodger did too. It didn’t make Violet right, but it didn’t make Wren wrong, either. “Yeah, well. People are full of shit.”

“I actually liked you, though. I felt safe with you. Maia couldn’t explain to me why, but I actually felt safe being around you, but the whole time I couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen at the end of this.”

“People leave all the time, in ways we can’t control. It’s part of life.” Wren looked away, one hand reaching out to pet Dodger, his fur tangling up in her fingers in a familiar way.

“Points for not using the cliché phrasing, but fuck you. It’s not fair,” Violet muttered. The rock she threw skipped twice and then sank, the sound pounding against her ears even as the words beat against the shoreline of her lips. “Right? I get it. They’re gone. They loved me and they’re gone. Maia, my mom, everyone else.” Another rock went flying. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Crying won’t save them. Screaming won’t bring them back.” The next stone she didn’t even skip before sinking to the bottom of the bay. “It would be so much easier if I just let them launch off into the void and never thought about it again because that worked out so well for all of us the first time.”

“Maia wouldn’t want you to be upset about her. Maia loved you. And, uh, always…” Wren began, and then stopped, because they all felt so fake, the lies she’d told herself for years. She tried again. “Loving hurts. It means letting down your walls, and sometimes that leaves you vulnerable, but getting broken once doesn’t mean you should never let anyone in ever again.”

Violet glowered, turning for the first time to look Wren straight in the eye. The full force of fire and rage, all the pent up years of wishing for a place in a wide, lonely universe, hit like a tidal wave. “You’re one to talk. What happens next, Wren, when you finally get a moment to look at yourself? You push everyone away because you’ve let down your guard so many times that the scars are written all across your face.”

The words were out before Wren could remember how much saying them hurt. “You aren't looking at scars right if you think they're ugly.”

“I never took you to be a poet.”

“I wasn’t the one who said it,” Wren said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, obviously. You’re too much of a fuckwit to say anything that nice.”

Back when Mira had first said it, it hadn’t made sense. None of it. But now, feeling the ropey tissue beneath her fingertips, seeing the scars in others, stitching them up the long way, it was easier to understand. She’d loved, and she’d lived, and this was what she remembered it by. Somewhere, beneath the tufts of Dodger’s fur, was a line of messy skin lovingly stitched together by a girl dead and gone, and they’d carried her with them all the way here.

But warm adages and wistful memories didn’t let her forget about the real feelings, the times from before the open wounds regrew back into flesh.

“Fine,” Wren muttered darkly, looking at the girl and wondering if this was how all of it began, with a lonely soul feeling abandoned by the whole galaxy. “The worst realization is when you understand that this is a permanent problem. When you realize that you’ll wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and every day for the rest of your life. This problem will still be there and she won’t. You feel like shit now and everyone tells you that there’s a silver lining and that it’s inevitable, and you’ll spend days and weeks looking for it.”

“I know that!” Violet shouted. “I know that Maia loved me and that love is eternal and there’s a bullshit ghost of bullshittery that’ll be with me always, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt and that I don’t wish that I could just let that be my silver lining. You say Maia wouldn’t have wanted me to feel upset and all I can think is fuck that, I know Maia better than any of you and I know that if there was one wish in the world right now it’s that Maia wouldn’t have wanted to be dead.” She hefted a stone, this one larger than the last, and held it in her hand for a moment. “Maia would’ve wanted to live in this beautiful world you keep talking about where everyone else got a happier ending.”

“In a year you’ll be wondering if it’s still fair for you to miss her when it feels like no one else does,” Wren said, ignoring the burning at the edges of her vision with as much vigor as she ignored Violet. “And then more and more years pass and you realize you never answered that question. You can try self-medication and isolation and regret and none of it will help you face the simple reality that you can’t undo the past. Losing her is like standing in the middle of a summer storm and finding the rains rising up around you in a flood. You’re going to drown in grief. You can’t go on. You’ll never make it out; the road ahead has become an ocean and monsters block the path and there’s nothing left, least of all her. Just you and an impossible climb.”

Her fingers, tangled in the fur of Dodger’s neck beneath the yellow of his crest, clenched involuntarily, clutching to him like a lifeline. But the waves out here aren’t the same ones as the ones behind her; the seas ahead are wholly different and new.

“But you don’t drown. Because you’re dumb and masochistic to all hell and above all else, some stupid voice in the back of your mind reminds you she wouldn’t have wanted you to go like this, pulled down by the undertow of you loving her. And you don’t drown, not the first time the waves come or the second, or the third, even when they get further away and that only makes you more surprised when another riptide comes for you. The ocean expands and you realize that you aren’t the only one drowning.”

“You were always shit at metaphors.”

Wren looked out the ocean, whose waves had just begun to sparkle silver in the sunset, and then her eyes touched against Dodger’s electric gaze. Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. “It’s a habit I picked up from an old friend.”

“I know what you’re trying to say. I should just accept that and move on. Just throw them away and realize that some people don’t come back.” The stone rocketed away like a meteor, vanishing into the darkening night. “And that’s that. You know, on my world, silvally were the beast killers. They fight the ultra beasts and win. Is that what you want? We rally past the hurt and go straight into making sure that we stop it from hurting anyone else? Or, shit, I dunno, I could build a mech, Dodger could pilot it, we chase the ultra beasts into a back alley and beat the ever-loving shit out of them—”

There was a fierce gust of wind as Dodger blew past them, the feathered crest on his head glowing silver and then turning to sky blue.

“No, that’s not it at all,” Wren said, and then paused, looking up at the darkening sky. The stars were just beginning to come out again. “Life is full of shit. People are, too.” Her voice was thick as she watched the chimera racing on top of the waves, sending droplets of foam into harsh silhouette against the sunset. “Sometimes people leave and don’t come back. But we keep going. We don’t drown. Even through the worst of it when it looks like getting up is impossible.”

Dodger was cantering back towards them, mismatched eyes glowing blue with the memory of flight at the heart of a falling star. In the chimera’s mouth was the cracked stone Violet had tried to drown in the ocean.

“Sometimes people break. Sometimes people break you. But sometimes, just sometimes, they reach across that gap, through those walls, and come back for you.”

Violet smudged at her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. “You’re full of shit, Wren.”

The corner of Wren’s mouth twisted into a smile, and she absent-mindedly picked at the elbow of her jacket. “Tell me something new.”

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fin
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Spoiler

two years ago, I stopped caring what I wrote about and started writing what I cared about.

this is probably something a lot of you did a long time ago, but it was new to me. I'd touched on ideas and philosophies that I thought were interesting to the world, but after some shit went down in my real life that couldn't be ignored, that line between things that were important to me and things that I wrote about got dissolved pretty much entirely. you may have seen the results in a few of my one-shots, but this is the first longform fiction that saw the aftermath of that change, and I'm not sure how that played out as a reading experience. I hope it was enjoyable.

this is a story about a lot of things, and I welcome you to read it however you want. I believe in death of the author as much as the next person. please don't feel like you need to tread gently upon it because I've tossed in the author's note that this pertains to personal events; as Wren would put it, those scars healed a long time ago.

there's a quote that pisses me off a lot that says that life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, but about dancing in the rain. to me, it sends the wrong idea about what storms are for -- your job isn't to be destroyed by them, and their job isn't to destroy you, but sometimes, things happen. you can't ignore reality. when it rains, and you can tread water, it isn't about dancing. it's about making sure that no one else is drowning.

I realized at some point here that a lot of us write about things that matter to us. in many ways, writing was how I managed to tread water. I learned a lot of lessons writing this, and I hope that I was able to convey some of them to you, as well.

/cheesey fic ending OUT

 

[Ambyssin]

Okay time to play catch up... and not ketchup b/c that would make me sick. :V

indigo
And you sly, sly devil you. When things started I was paying more attention to the fact that Vi had such a newfound closeness for Wren and asking myself what had happened in the interim to make them actually seem close, since they'd been at each others throats through most of this. And I did think that Watari seemed rather... sleazy and not the type of guy I'd trust. But to actually realize it was a Nihilego hiding inside the whole time! Dang, you totally got me. Then again, I've never been a very hard person to trick, I suppose. That said, I like the way it's been built up. Things start out very subtle, like the "haven't aged a day," comment. Before it moves into more obvious red flags (his speech and his clear attempts to pry apart Wren and Vi) before it's incredibly evident with their conversation in the hall.

You play up Nihilego's parasitic tendencies really well here. Have it using Watari as a living puppet. Creepy stuff. Then when the act drops its poisonous tentacles spring to action to make things even more unsettling. I had a feeling as soon as Vi started talking to Maia that this was going to end with Maia blowing herself up. That's just the kind of thing that Miniors do, I suppose.

violet
Hmm. I'm not exactly sure I can properly put into words how this ending feels for me. There are a lot of what I'm going to call "inverse platitudes." As in, you take some of those motivational moments or inspirational quotes you hear in the media when someone needs to get pulled out of the metaphorical gutter and twist them around in such a way that they end up sounding rather dark and depressing initially. But the way they're actually laid out in the context of Vi's and Wren's conversation actually gave it, for me, more of an uplifting purpose. At the most superficial level there was something very, Gregory Houseish about the recurring "people are full of shit" tidbit. But as the conversation goes on and it becomes more and more apparent that this is some combination of reconciliations and Wren both accepting past events and letting go of them in some capacity, I think it works well as a piece showing coping with grief and loss. I get the feeling that, in her hurt state, Vi hasn't exactly teased out the allusions to Mira that Wren keeps making, but I think by the end of this part she's at least got some idea and that it looks like a new path will be forged forward.

I realize that none of that probably makes any sense and I am a crazy person who rambles, so maybe take that all with a grain of salt. Dunno. Point is, I think this whole piece worked out really well. I don't think you'd have been able to execute the twists and turns it took as well as you did if you hadn't taken multiple angles and perspectives on it. So, in that capacity, I think you were quite successful. I enjoyed it a lot. Thanks for sharing it. ^^

 

[AetherX]

Alright so I haven't reviewed since Green, but I'm doing this right after I read Violet so this will probably be more of an overall review.

I'm sure you've gathered from my own writing and various ramblings, but I'm a huge fan of "tight" storytelling. I love stories that can pack a ton of emotion and morals and character development in a relatively small space. This fic does a spectacular job of just that. It always ends up being kind of a ymmv thing, since it requires a willingness on the reader's behalf to get involved very quickly with characters that we just met and know very little about. You helped with that through use of specific, relatable details. The real world setting made it a bit easier, but I had no problem empathizing with these people even as we switched rapidly between viewpoints.

Pavell did a good job talking about how some of the themes were not made terribly clear, so I won't go in too much on that. I'm not sure I would have in the first place though, because I think part of the reason I like this fic so much is because the themes and emotions present in it clicked very neatly with me. It was clear to me from the second chapter that the story was going to be about relationships between people. The value of romance, family, friendship, even just acquaintances, through all the ups and downs of life. Every character in the story needed these relationships, whether they already had them, were actively searching them out, or were actively pushing them away. That struck a chord with me. Somehow the backdrop of an eldritch apocalypse doesn't distract from that, which I would say is indicative of clever and efficient use of a setting. I guess they kinda did save the world in the end, or what was left of it. But that wasn't the important part. The characters were what was important.

Some of the color symbolism was a little heavy-handed, but I've grown to be a fan of heavy-handed symbolism. Makes it so that the readers more reliably understand the point you're trying to make. It doesn't feel cheesy or forced, it feels tight and well constructed. Although I didn't catch the "Minior can't be red" thing until you pointed it out (although it did blow my mind when I realized that Mira made a wish too like three paragraphs before the chapter brought it up).

Death Cab for Cutiefly

Either this is a mind-blowing reveal that "the real world" actually had some kinds of Pokemon all along, or you just got carried away with Pokemon-izing pop culture references again (I'm still waiting to see if Green Lanturn is a fish-themed Green Hornet or a fish-themed Green Lantern).

Screaming won’t break them back.

*bring

Or, shit, I dunno, I could build a mech, Dodger could pilot it, we chase the ultra beasts into a back alley and beat the ever-loving shit out of them—

So this is an April Fools chapter.

The starts were just beginning to come out again.

*stars

Congrats on finishing a fic with more than one chapter! I've really really enjoyed reading this for the past year, and it's one of the rare fics that I can see myself coming back to in the future. Maybe when I do I'll give a more in depth review of the whole thing start to finish. Thanks you so much for writing, this is genuinely one of my favorite things I've read in a while <3

 

[Flaze]

Okay, it's actually taken me a few days to do the review because it was a bit hard to know what to say. Well, other than CONGRATS ON FINALLY FINISHING A FIC ON BULBA

But anyways, congratulations aside I think Violet acted as a good closing off point for Spectra, even if it felt a little...off somehow. It does a good job of summarising the themes that the story had been building towards throughout the other chapters, but much like in previous parts I think it was a little too direct in explaining it to us, but again it's better to overexplain than to run the risk of the reader missing the point and then chewing you out for it. The other issue is that I would've at least wanted to know a bit more about what the struggle against Nihilego meant for humanity as a whole, like will the UBs still come now? or was that stopped? I know that isn't the actual focus of the story but it's just something that was left in my mind.

Thematically-wise I really liked Violet's and Wren's back and forth and it felt like a genuine struggle between two people that are still trying to come to terms with their grief, Wren acting as an example of how hard it can be to overcome it and thus leaving it in the air whether Violet will be able to or not. That being said, I also appreciated the little hints of hope you dropped for the two, such as Violet being a surrogate daughter for Wren or the two still sticking together even though they don't always see eye to eye.

At the end of the day I'm a huge sucker for stories that explore the difficulties of grief and trauma and how people come together to try and help each other through it, it's one of those themes I like and want to get better at exploring myself.

As for your description...it was interesting. It mainly worked for Wren's and Violet's emotional turmoil and discussion and I liked how you tied the rock skipping to the current state of the conversation and how Violet would start skipping the stones less and less the more distraught she allowed herself to become. However, I do think it fell off during the end when Dodger starts transforming. I know that you probably wanted a climax that tied into Violet and Wren seeing eye to eye and have this big beautiful image of Dodger transforming right out of a Ghibli movie. However, the conclusion feels really off and the description for Dodger's transformation goes both pretty quickly and it's a bit to understand what's going on, so that's something I'd recommend working on in order to add weight to the conclusion.

Lastly I'd like to give some last words to send off Spectra. Again, this is the first complete story I've seen of you and I think it's very different but also similar to all your previous works. You played with a lot of different themes both existential and personal and I think the most amazing thing is how you were able to do it all in a tight manner where you could explore them and the characters while still making an interesting story. It's amazing and I think I'd like to reread it and analyze it myself because it does deserve it.

So I want to say good job and I hope to see what your other future story will offer and as per usual, well, I'm excited to see how you destroy me next time

 

[Beth Pavell]

So. I think there's a theme emerging with these reviews, that I'm never quite sure what to write, and this one's no different.

Violet reminds me a bit of the wizard's word - if you hadn't added that spoiler I would have been able to guess this comes from a personal place anyway. As much because we do the honest critique thing for one another's reviews as anything else, I don't want to pry into that. Literary considerations about death of the author aside, it's not appropriate. But it is a reminder that grief is a damn hard emotion to write if you have to guess.

About halfway through the chapter I started wondering what the story is really about, in a AnoHana kind of way. Is it a story about an apocalypse, or is it really a story about grief using an apocalypse to do the killing? I'm inclined to think the latter, which raises a few questions about the structure of the story. I suspect the spectrum motif is one you'd keep on the basis that this is a story written primarily for yourself. I have my doubts as to whether it really helps. I can't help but think I'd have liked to have Violet better established earlier. I'm debating on whether it helps for this bleak apocalypse to be the backdrop of the grief ... but this chapter does work and grief doesn't care about neat narratives. So perhaps it's appropriate.

Wren, at least, I can be firmer on, insofar as in the hands of a lesser author she'd end up being a fairly hollow badass. Violet at least pokes some holes in that and unromantically points out that the badass loner type only looks cool while the gunfire is flaring. Her dialogue is rather reminiscent of the blind leading the blind - as so often happens when damaged people try to support other damaged people (If I may be cryptic for a moment, I've seen that happen).

So in the end I don't really know how to be useful. Going back to the Nolan comparison, I'm reminded a little of walking out after seeing Dunkirk - not entirely sure I liked it, certain I didn't hate it, and thinking a lot about what I think

 

[diamondpearl876]

Sooo I remembered that the first couple times I reviewed, I was dead tired and basically in drunk mode. I re-read from the start, and lo and behold, a whole new reading experience full of clarity. Figured you deserved a less lame reader, lol, and it was as good a time as any with the fic being completed - which a huge congrats is in order for, by the way! <3 And Fic of the Month was much, much deserved.

This fic was a wild ride from start to finish. There's the massive apocalypse happening in the background, and it mostly stays in the background as far as plot and plot points go throughout the fic, but the specific details about locations and how this has happened before and about the actual apocalyptic attacks when they happened all serve to make it still have a prominent and relevant place at the forefront. Which is important because, even though it's a character-driven piece and you place an appropriate amount of focus on the characters as a result, this could've easily fallen flat if they were lamenting about a plot we had little to no information on. So kudos there.

On more specifics... I wasn't sold on Wren the first time around, but I was the second. She's a hardened lil shit in a world that needs a better balance of survival instincts and kindness if civilization ever hopes to rebuild itself + defeat the still looming threats, and it's understandable. It really is. But seeing her soften up very, very slowly up until the end of the fic where she tries straight up to comfort Vi instead of cursing her out was nice to see. The grief over losing Mira was nicely portrayed, too, and realistic. Pushing down memories, avoiding situations where she could lose someone again, learning that the risk can sometimes be worth it so it's better to try by the end... It hit pretty close to home for me, at any rate.

Vi was written a little too closely to Wren, I feel. A little more trusting, sure, but that's about as far as I could see to differentiate them (aside from her actually becoming more hardened by the end instead of the opposite, too, I suppose). The biggest difference wasn't personality or dialogue related at all, but plot related with the role of minior. Considering one of my main qualms with SRBS is the lack of balance between plot and characters, this is a huge step up, as I said earlier, with this being the main flaw that breaks the balance: Vi's character being shoved to the background in favor of minior's story.

As far Maia and the minior themselves, ugh. Perfect metaphor. Seriously. I'd argue that it was slightly too on the nose when it came time to explain the full story, but. Doesn't matter. By then, all the characters had had their time in the spotlight, we'd seen all their pain, and with Maia and the minior, that just exploded tenfold. Then Maia herself exploded to sacrifice Vi. It was... a little devastating to see Vi want to make connections with people she could trust, and with the one person she did, well, they had to go and sacrifice themself so Vi could live. Again, the loss factor was spot on - for Wren, seeing the aftermath, and for Vi, seeing what came before.

I couldn't get the best read on Turner, but something tells me that was probably the point. There were times I thought he was genuinely a caring person, other times not. I kinda settled on he'd take the dirty way out if it meant he got what he wanted, and especially if what he wanted amounted to helping the greater good in the end (in his mind, at least). Not sure if that's accurate, but his interactions with Wren were spot on to highlight the lack of apparent trust and closeness people would have in a dire situation like an apocalypse.

Also, at first glance, you might not think this is a Pokémon fic, I guess, but I rather like only the subtle hints of Pokémon in here. At most, I think you just name silvally and minior as species outright, and others, you resort to more scientific names and/or Japanese names (though I'm not entirely knowledgeable about that stuff, so those details like "25 foot dragon" really helped lmao). Can't say I'm familiar enough with California to give comments on the landscape details, either, but I appreciated the fic taking a unique turn and using real life settings. With an apocalypse on the rise here and seeing state/country names that, you know, exist close to where we live, that makes the world ending sound all the more awful in some twisted sort of way, I guess.

DODGER IS A GOOD BOY. Still probably my favorite chapter in the fic. D: And the recurring name joke with "wtf you named him Dodger?" was amusing. Dodger is indeed a good boy. And a good reminder that not everything meant to be awful is truly awful when you look past the surface. I'm glad most everyone was able to see him as the adorable lovable doggo that he is by the end. <3

Hope this general review is okay. xD I enjoyed the fic immensely, and my qualms with it are rather small and didn't do much to take away the overall impact of it. ily pls write and post moar again.

 

[AceTrainer14]

Spectra

Awards review time! (Reviewer’s note: I have largely copied my review from the judging unedited and separated into the various categories, so things are mostly unedited and may be repetitive.)

Being able to read a completed story on this site is such a rare thing. So few authors here seem to have the commitment or interest in finishing their work, even when the story is only a few chapters like this on. I was concerned that Spectra would suffer a common fate when it was not updated for a while. Thank goodness that it finally was.

Spectra is a magical, captivating story that never once lost my interest the whole time I was reading it. Structured basically as six connected one-shots, with a seventh conclusive chapter, the story examines what would happen if Pokémon and Ultra Beasts suddenly struck our world, and how one would survive in that world.

The plot, focused around bitter mercenary Wren as she is pulled out of a depressive retirement and asked to transport a mysterious girl across the country, is short but loaded with emotion and detail. The author wisely uses some of the perspective chapters to skip repetitive travelogue and generic battles and fighting to keep things focused on the characters and the important parts of the story. Despite being told by six different voices, we still get a nearly complete story that works cohesively without you feeling lost or uncertain of what is happening.

The strongest chapters are Yellow and Blue, entering the minds of two very different Pokémon and highlighting the author’s ability to write in entirely different tones and voices with utter ease. These two chapters, particularly Yellow, are joyous to read and highlight the magic and beauty the author is trying to convey.

The chapters told from one-off perspectives, such as Orange and Green, are weaker purely because they are more methodical and there to service the plot. Even in these instances, the characters are given depth and personality and are interesting to read – I particularly liked the brief take we got on Gladion, with more of his personality hinted at, suggesting a high level of planning and forethought from the author.

The last two chapters stumble slightly. The twist of Purple is interesting, one I didn’t see coming, and it makes for a nice change to the story’s formula, but the first interaction with ‘Watari’ doesn’t really hint at what is to come, before it becomes more obvious in the second section of the chapter that things are dodgy. The final chapter is beautifully written and shows some nice perspective and character interaction, but it does showcase the slight flaw of skipping over the bonding sequences that would have given those final scenes more weight.

Description is sparse, not as detailed as the author’s other work, but you still get a feel for this world and the settings from the few details given. It says a lot about a story when the characters fill the world more than descriptions and metaphors and physical details do. When descriptions do appear, they glow, changing the entire paragraph and drawing you even further into this terribly scarred world.

The story is not without its imperfections, as most stories are. The unique structure of the chapters is Spectra’s biggest strength and weakness, enhancing the story in many ways but harming it when it comes to the final scenes. Yet it remains a gorgeous, inventively told story about grief, loss, friendship, love, companionship, and humanity. Yellow I still think about almost a year after first reading it, and Blue has been dwelling on my mind a lot. It is rare for any book to do that, even rarer for fan fiction, but it is near impossible to find work of Spectra’s quality anywhere.

Wren

Depth
Wren is nothing but layered. From her tragic backstory to her temperament at the task at hand, to her interactions with Dodger and Vi and everyone they cross, there are untold parts of her story that are just waiting to be unpicked and explored further. She is multi-faceted, which at times makes her a bit contradictory, particularly near the end, but it is clear throughout the story that her past loss still weighs heavily on her and that it has shaped her view. Her rough exterior gives way to friendly blokeiness when needed, and there is a soft side to her and Violet’s relationship.

Development

Development is one of the key issues with Wren, and spectra in general. The nature of the story, which skips between perspectives and skips a great deal of time between two chapters, means that there is little room for personalities to flourish. Wren is consistent across the first five chapters, with hints of change coming in the fifth.

However, there is a slightly sudden change where she becomes attached to Violet in the final chapter. It works just enough by Wren’s logic and the logic of the story, and I can see what the author was getting at by having it like this; the twist of the sixth chapter changes things, and then the climax of that chapter finally sees her and Vi on the same page. However, there is some slight convenience in how quickly Wren connects with Vi. The plot demands it, and the location gives the author some leeway in allowing these realisations to come out, but some more hints earlier would have helped.

Originality
It is hard to call Wren a truly original character; she is a mercenary/gun for hire type that has gone into a depressive state following a loss. That’s been done time and time before. Some more time to dig into her life and world view could have drawn more originality out of her.

Entertainment Value
Wren is not what you would call ‘entertaining’. Of all the characters we got a glimpse of, her perspective chapters probably thrilled me the least. Dodger and Maia make you fall for them, ‘Watari’ unsettles you, and Turner and Gladion’s brief glimpses into their world offer you interesting layers to the story. Wren is not dull, but her gruffness and the way her chapters are told don’t make her the everyman type. She is kind of like a reverse-Luke Skywalker: the most interesting character in the story, but everyone else is still more fun and interesting to read.

Role
Wren does not set the plot of the story in motion. Really, everyone else is more key to the overall plot than she is; she is really the hired gun brought in to transport a package. Her role is that of bodyguard whilst providing some context and ground to the story in amongst the slightly mad world. She may not have much agency, but that does not detract from Wren as a character overall.


Wren is a fascinating character, with a complex personality shaped by a tragic backstory. You could read into her lack of entertainment and agency if you like, but her character is what we are here to talk about, and she has that in spades. The only thing that really lets her down is the slightly rushed conclusion to her story that feels a little too-Disney, but in the preceding chapters, she is complex, interesting, consistent, and intriguing. How much you enjoy her and her journey depends on how you read the end of it.

Wren and Violet

When they first meet, there is instant distrust. Neither wants to travel with the other, Wren perhaps more so given her complex past, the presence of Maia (Violet’s Minior) and the task at hand. That distrust remains for much of the story, or so we must assume. As the story skips chunks of time and jumps between perspectives, we only really see what we get and are left to assume that is a constant.

For the most part, their relationship seems antagonistic, the two forced to be together for the sakes of both their goals. We don’t see a lot of friendship between them. In the sixth chapter, the characters forced to split. Violet is shown to be upset by this, which at first is confusing, but it is clear that she is afraid of ‘Watari’ and is trying to warn Wren (and fails). That is acceptable.

What is more difficult is the final chapter. Here, Wren has changed tact, deciding to comfort Violet as a fellow lost/hurt soul after the conclusion of the sixth chapter. She tries to console Violet and change her perspective, and eventually gets through to her. It’s sweet and well written, on its own, but as part of a whole, the scene is a little jarring given how sudden the change is.

Perhaps Violet’s softer side has always been there. Perhaps Wren has always had a soft spot for Violet (it is possible and not entirely unbelievable, and I can see how it would work in the story). Alas, when much of their interaction – pretty much all of it – has been built on distrust and a dislike for the other, the ending is divisive and far from perfect.

Though we do see in Maia’s chapter that the two are basically kindred spirits, that still doesn’t change the lack of interaction. The nature of the story does not help that side of character development. If there was another chapter to tap into this, or some more examples of them on the road together, or more glimpses at them not entirely hating each other, the sweet ending would work better. But, judging what is there, there is a lot to be desired.

Overall:
I appreciate the poetry and the intention of the final chapter, and do not think that it alone dulls the rest of a well written, imaginative, thoughtful and moving story. I loved reading spectra more than any other story on this site – except maybe for valence – and (entirely personally) I am disappointed that this does not have a Best Story banner to its name. Slight issues asides, this is about 90% perfect and I look forward to seeing what your next poetic epic will be.

 

[Arkadelphiak]

come @ me kint jong un

spectra - 2018 Summer Awards

This is a tricky one for me to judge. It's a story of loss; you aren't here to regale your readers with srbs-esque drama/introspection or, really, anything like your previous works. It's a tragedy that unfolds in a surprisingly-convincing arena that mirrors our own world. It ends bluntly and offers no condolences to any of its characters-- nor the reader.

Upon reading the ending, I was torn in two directions. One: in disappointment at the semi-anti-climactic ending . . . it seemed like we didn't get enough action to justify the story's emotional weight. We spend all this time leading up to a conflict (i.e. the Nihilego, it seemed) and then it was over in a flash. Boom, Dodger is a good boy. Then we learn of a fight between Vi and Wren that doesn't seem to carry as much weight as, say, something from srbs (which is surprising, given the loving care that this story oozes). Two: knowing the complex circumstances that led to your story seemed to justify the abrupt ending. In a literary sense, does that context let me overlook the flaws? I'm not quite sure yet; life is not beautiful, nor idyllic, therefore, why should we expect our fiction to follow that mold? And here's a third direction, just to put things into a three-dimensional perspective: why should we care about Wren and Vi? We aren't given much time to get attached to them. Their abundant grittiness is almost too much at times. But is this a bad thing?

Characterization
Goooooood shite, man. It's typical kintsugi fare, bruh. The characters are raw and their interactions are fiery-- thus resulting in a searing effect on the writing (lmao meat puns). These characters mean business; they're the not soft and fluffy archetypes you see floating around most fan fiction. Wren is gritty, Vi is insolent. To me, they signify a chance in your writing style-- and for the better.

Setting
I think it works. There's far more nuance than "oh no, Pokemon are real, we're all gonna die." The apocalypse falls to the backdrop in favor of the emotional calamities, so I feel that it could be utilized further. The use of Japanese names adds a unique, Godzilla-esque horror to these creatures. I need to take a moment and gush on that: good worldbuilding, yo. You've built a very well-thought out background that only adds to the tension between the characters.

Style
I personally found the spectrum theme endearing. The story really didn't need to be stretched out any further than necessary (given its scope), so the strict format seemed to work in my eyes. The 'every human has a Color' motif came across as r-e-a-l cheesy, but I've always been sensitive to those sorts of things. It works in the scope of the story, but may make a few cynics cringe. Your mileage may vary.

Technical
No real technical errors, as far as I could tell. Good proofreading, bb.

Conclusion
Much like its emotional matters, this is a complicated story. It's hard (near-impossible, I say) to dismiss it and it's hard to describe it. This is a tragic work of art that will become more beloved in the coming years, I believe. 10/10 I knew kintsugi before she was cool.

Wren and Violet

Depth, Development, and Originality
It's important to note that this is not a friendship. Their relationship is bittersweet and hardly maternal (on Wren's side). There's really no other way for me to really describe it. That puts it on quite a different platform that the rest of this year's entries, as most deal with friendships. That makes for quite the original take on a relationship. But does that main difference automatically make it a contender? We'll see.

We start with annoyance and indifference: one of them is the angry cargo, one of them is the angry freighter. They don't like each other at all (and I don't blame Wren, who wants to lug a kid around in an apocalypse?). Maia provides a welcome reprieve of hope within the grimdarkness, along with the Goodest Boye, but end up being the stars (ayy lmao puns) of the show. I found the creative, lighthearted chapters a bit more entertaining.

But we have to make a lot of assumptions in this story, given the large time skips. We see the implied growth of their relationship and events that strain/grow it, but we don't get down to the nitty-gritty. We need that, in my opinion. The depth of the relationship suffers for the aesthetic, in the end. Whether this is a worthwhile trade is up to the reader.

Role and Entertainment Value
This relationship is the crux of spectra. Without it, we have no color-motif-driven story-- we'd only have a few colors without it! This is the driving force behind all the events that help Wren grow as a person and begin to shed the weight of her depressive funk. We need them to stick together and succeed. And with that, you find yourself rooting for these two underdogs.

Wren is comforting a child at the end of the story. That's the simplest way to describe its poignancy: she's teaching a little girl, battered and broken, about loss. About how life isn't fair. And that's damn entertaining, man!

Wren

Depth
Her depth is mainly due to her tragically-short romance and the ensuing depression that follows. She's a fully-abraded softie who's abraded her emotions to resist the world's suffering. Her characterization is elegantly done and compact enough that it doesn't trail off-- however, it is condensed enough (via abrupt chapter changes) that her development (and ensuing depth) suffers at the cost of maintaining the spectrum motif. This is somewhat non-negotiable, but I feel like it is sufficient to tell her side of the story. This isn't a conventional fic, after all.

Development
Her development is scattered in a non-linear fashion. Personally, I find that the dramatic cuts help the narrative (and the spectrum motif), but at the cost of hurting the character development. Wren's idiosyncrasies and suffering is consistent for over 50% of the story, then wavers when Vi comes along.

Originality
I'm a sucker for depressed characters, man. And Wren is done well, fully evoking the distorted emotions (or, lack thereof) of someone experiencing loss. Her place in the story as a mercenary is commonplace-- but then again, is it really fair to degrade this character over something so small?

Entertainment Value
I found her quite entertaining, in the sense that she and Dodger are bulldozing their way through hell, one chapter at a time. There's something viscerally appealing when it comes to reading about someone absolutely, competently wrecking obstacles in their way. Of course, nothing really stands in her way except an overhanging loss and her semi-inexplicable attachment/concern for Vi.

Role
Wren is our lens. Our very cynical, gruff lens, but alas, just the right perspective for this story. She's not a Nara, my dudes, she's like Nara's angry alter ego from a very different apocalypse. We're given the deliveryman's perspective, as opposed to the everyman's-- that's something you don't see every day!

Conclusion
An excellent, albeit flawed character. Could easily contend for Protagonist instead.

In conclusion, spectra is an anomaly in the Writer's Workshop. It's raw and gritty and offers no real solution in the face of suffering. Life is hard, and then you die. Who am I to critique it any further? You answered the plot and left us with a lot to think about. And, honestly, that's refreshing.

 

[Persephone]

We've talked about this a lot. Here are thoughts, more condensed like.

I really liked the first two chapters of this. I liked the Minior and Gladion chapters. Hell, taken alone I liked the last two. The problem is, the story isn't as strong as the sum of its parts.

I think the dodger chapter was a big part of that. It's somewhat needlessly obtuse (wait can I complain about that?) and covers the transition of two characters that hate each other into two characters that don't. I would've made it more clear, maybe punctuated it with two or three conversations to show decreasing hostilities. So that we don't just go from "they hate each other" to "Wren defends Violet" to "HOW COULD YOU ABANDON ME!!!"

But, um, that's like... the one thing holding it back. Otherwise I loved almost all the chapters, especially the first and the Minior chapter. Both would be very good one-shots on their own.