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A wild nidorino appears? Pokéball, go!

Very_Tired_Person

Self-proclaimed sleepyhead
Location
inside a giant coffee mug
Pronouns
he/his
The verdant leaves of the mysterious forest covered the ground below, dotted with hunks of moss and brittle sticks and stones, rustled a manner not unlike the spasmic shaking of a man having a seizure, a glorious rustling formed perhaps by the movement of the various particles that comprised the very air surrounding it, or maybe by the minute movements of the various limbs of a pocket monster hiding from our brave hero. Truly, the various weather phenomena that could have caused this event could surely not have resulted in such consistent shaking of floral matter, and it thus must, in fact, be, a pocket monster of great self-concealing ability, attempting to camouflage itself with the materials of the glorious forest in a masterful, yet utterly meaningless, attempt at deception. Perhaps realising the futility of its attempts to hide from our brave, incredible hero, the creature leaped with grace through the air, revealing its bizarre and awe-inspiring form to the child, herself a pocket monster trainer of truly the very highest of orders, before it. Such majestic magenta skin mottled with soft-edged triangular shapes dyed a royal purple, bursting out of the main body in intimidating spires that reached for the heavens that could never truly be touched by mortals, in bewildering ears of equally bewildering shape, dyed internally in the most beautiful shade of darkened aquamarine, in midget limbs that struck the ground in a mighty thump as the peculiar creature at last landed on the earth once more.

But alas, our brave hero, that young child who had successfully leveraged her incredibly intuition and great self-concealment-noticing capabilities, was also a master of the subtle art of responding to treacherous threats such as the one glaringly pointed towards her incredible form, and had immediately began the process of releasing her own most trusted pocket monster, already holding the miraculous device that would bring said most trusted pocket monster forth in a brilliant display of technological advancement and lots and lots of dazzling shiny light navy lights and sparkles and glitter. The capsule, the machine that embodied this age of technological advances, glistening in the forest-mottled light of the daytime solar spheroid of plasma, shone with the ever-brilliant hues of resplendent crimson and pure snow, divided by the abyssal darkness of a pure, pitch-black onyx line looping around the spherical object, with a smaller loop of spotless ivory shade, like a belt buckle, surrounding an equally dark, small jet black sphere, a small button, designed for the purpose of allowing for maximum convenience and ease of use, the function of which was to activate the primary function of the capture- and release mechanisms of the red and white capsule, was held in the right hand of the young trainer, the peerless hero of our grand and glorious epic, our wonderful story, reflecting the light of the ever-present sun, and casting a round shadow into the ground beneath it.

The spheroid, not to be confused with the other spheroid that the planet itself was orbiting around, which was mentioned earlier in this beautiful, incredibly, awesome, resplendent story, was summarily ejected from the launch-capable limb of our hero through a method somewhat reminiscent of the launching of a baseball in a game of the same name as the ball that was just previously mentioned, flew through the air with perhaps even more grace than the mysterious creature that had appeared from the suspiciously consistently rustling floral matter, came to a sudden, though not at all unexpected and completely predicted by our hero, halt, before opening in a dazzling display of beautiful glistening light navy light, showering the forest around it in a lightshow of truly epic proportions, releasing the pocket monster stored within during the mesmerising display. The creature that manifested itself on the lush, mossy and grassy battlefield was a strange amalgamation of various features, a most regal deep purple shade enshrouding it in a natural camouflage that would allow it to seamlessly blend into the shadows themselves, its spherical body being connected to five limbs, two of them its arms and two of them its legs, with the last being reserved to its notably short tail, and a tuft of what might very well have seemed like hair for the unaware was visible between its two seemingly ear-like appendages. The bizarre anomalous entity’s most defining characteristic, however, must have been its face, twisted in a perpetual mischievous grin, incapable of being completely closed regardless of the creature’s wishes, and its vibrant carmine shaded eyes, like bent half-moons gazing towards the first beast in a manner that could not be called friendly in any sense of the word, regardless of what side the theoretical spectator that would be describing the emotions behind said eyes was taking.

No time was wasted after the magical display had ended, however, for our peerless hero immediately began issuing an order to her most trusted partner pocket monster, using her limitless wisdom to quickly and efficiently decide the perfect attack for the situation, calling it out so that the strange shadowy creature she called a friend could perform it. A strange, shadowy mass began to manifest before the dark purple humanoid entity, building its form into a spherical blob of pitch black darkness, before it was swiftly flung directly towards the magenta beast, flying at it in a perfectly angled shot, leaving behind it a wispy trail of fading purple and black energy, which slowly dissipated into nothingness as the globe of misty darkness inched ever closer to the majestic creature before it. The majestic creature did its best to attempt to evade the attack that was being directed at it, but it was too late, for the pearl of darkness was already a hair’s breadth away, rapidly closing the distance between them and striking the beast in a direct hit, causing tremendous damage to its form, flinging it backwards in a wide arc and slamming it directly at a lush tree behind it, creating a loud banging sound not too different from the desperate knocking at the foot of a door performed by the hypothetical man suffering from a hypothetical seizure which was alluded to earlier in beginning of the story.

Now that the enemy pocket monster had been successfully weakened to a more manageable state, the trainer began to move her arm-limb to scavenge her object-storing contraption, also known as a backpack, for another spherical object of dual pigmentation, the vibrant scarlet shade of its upper half juxtaposed with the blinding snow-white of the bottom of the orb, discovering one at the very last moment, just as the creature before her began to shake off its disorientation. The object glid through the air, a soft whistling sound echoing behind it as it soared towards the wounded beast, landing upon its thorned forehead with a dull thump, opening its round, mechanical maw and began the process of sucking the target within it, turning it first into a malleable energy, then sealing it inside its hollow shell with a strangely nostalgic sound that would perhaps be referred to as reminiscent of fizzling electricity by someone who has never heard the sound of fizzling electricity.

The first shake! This is the moment when the possibility of a successful capture dawns on the trainer, the moment when preemptive disappointment begins to dwindle and is replaced by growing anticipation, the point where the vague hope of catching the target becomes something tangible, an actual possibility instead of a vague idea. The second shake! The anticipation begins to build, the thought that the capture might truly be successful begins to overshadow the dull sense of preemptive failure that most trainers are already prepared to face from the moment the ball is thrown, and hope begins to blossom within the trainer’s heart. The third shake! This is the point of no return, the event horizon, the all-or nothing, next will come either a victory or a devastating loss, with no spectrum between the two, the anticipation, the excitement, the it begins to overflow, the air is thick with tension, the single moment of silence feels like it might stretch for an eternity, it is but a fleeting moment, gone far too quickly but contemplated for what feels like hours on end!-



Beep! Beep Beep!

The alarm bell rang through the bedroom. It was seven in the morning, and sunlight was already peeking through the window shutters and past the green curtains.

This was the room of one April McFolley, who had already ran downstairs by now, and was currently in the process of devouring her breakfast in record time. There was no moments to be wasted. Today was a special day for her, after all.

It wasn’t every day that you began a pokémon journey.
 

Joshthewriter

Charizard Fan
Location
Toronto
Pronouns
He/him
Partners
  1. charizard
Oh my goodness. You were not kidding with the “very descriptive“ tags. That is honestly impressive. That prose is possibly some of the most purrrrrrple I’ve ever seen. I get that it’s intentional, but holy hell Is it ever a design choice lol.

I get the sense that this may be an April fools fic lol. Y’know, from the whole repeatedly referencing annold man having a seizure, and my personal favourite “the peerless hero of our grand and glorious epic, our wonderful story”

This is actually absurdly fun the more I read it. You’re having so much fun with hamming it up. I’m not even remotely this clever, I’d never be able to just go on and on like this. It’s definitely a skill to be able to go so completely overboard with it lol.

That was an absolutely impressive. The number of words you managed to cram into this, the number of times you described a thing 4 different ways. It’s all such fun to read through and figure out.

April McFolley, eh? I’m the fool for thinking it was a serious fic at first lol. All in all, a confusing, but ultimately satisfying read, once you figure out it’s all a huge joke in the end. Great work!
 

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
Okay, I hate to say it, but I totally didn't realize that this was an April Fools story until I was half way into it LOL. From the beginning I thought this was some sort of inflated exercise to perhaps work on descriptors but as I started getting into the way you were describing the Poke Ball I was like...wait a minute, it's April Fools day, there's no fucking way they're taking this THIS seriously, and I ended up being right LOL.

Honestly, this got a good laugh out of me. There is nothing I hate more than overly descriptive prose but somehow you managed to make it work in the context of this story because it was ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HYSTERICAL. Honestly, a fantastic work of April Fools prose, I am actually obsessed with how all of this ended up playing out. And the ending???? Honestly, a fantastic way to tie all of this together! At first I thought our MC, April McFolley (fantastic name choice by the way, happy April Fools you heathen) was simply playing the game or something but NOPE. Our gorl is on her way to live this on her own, and I am so goddamn excited for her!...I just hope this isn't how she internally narrates her everyday life because then I might have to kill her.

Good shit my dude, Happy April Fools!!
 

Venia Silente

For your ills, I prescribe a cat.
Location
At the 0-divisor point of the Riemann AU Earth
Pronouns
Él/Su
Partners
  1. nidorino
  2. blaziken
I wanted to review this for RB2022 because I love Nidorans (in case anyone couldn't tell) and also Gengar needs more exposure and whoooaaaaaaaa wow this is a lot of purple-prose.

The verdant leaves of the mysterious forest covered the ground below, dotted with hunks of moss and brittle sticks and stones, rustled a manner not unlike the spasmic shaking of a man having a seizure, a glorious rustling formed perhaps by the movement of the various particles that comprised the very air surrounding it, or maybe by the minute movements of the various limbs of a pocket monster hiding from our brave hero.
"The leaves rustled".

Assuredly, a beginning of solid quality and attributes that eschews not the gloating on the purpleness of its means, demonstrating abjectly how far can an author reach by exercising those means in the pursuit of writing purpleness as a goal. At a ratio of words-imbued-into-the-screen to semantical-tokens-spent-for-communication of 73:3 which mathematically simplifes to a factor of about 24× for this introductory segment, you might achieve with this section the feat of beating the written loquaciousness found in the premise sections of some articles featured in Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopædia that Anyone (who is signed in) Can Edit, even!

Such majestic magenta skin mottled with soft-edged triangular shapes dyed a royal purple, bursting out of the main body in intimidating spires that reached for the heavens that could never truly be touched by mortals, in bewildering ears of equally bewildering shape, dyed internally in the most beautiful shade of darkened aquamarine, in midget limbs that struck the ground in a mighty thump as the peculiar creature at last landed on the earth once more.
Featured here, the superlative majestic and exemplary description of a specimen of the second stage Nidoran species male hitherto forewritten.

Definitively spawns the signals of my approval, for which I would rank this piece a solid 10/10 and would issue words on the stance that I would readily, as a writer, take this piece as credited source or inspiration for other potential featurings of the Nidoran species males on my own end; for I am a writer who fancies and features the Nidoran species on my own works when I can find good excuse to, as well. It is to no lesser lasting impression to me, that given the context in which it is used even the expression "midget limbs" manages to sound regally awesome.

Certainly I found to my fancy how, intentional or not, you take advantage of the purple prose to point out elements of the design of the creature and relate them to wording and expressions that signify its relationship to the environment where it lives.

Example foremost which I've chosen to showcase, would be the description of the back spikes that try to reach for the heavens, given the -if you would pardon the abuse of idiomatic language for fun- back-built design criteria and lore elements for such a creature indicate the spikes evolved into its design, as per the Darwinian facet of the term, as a means to deter airborne predators.

our brave hero, that young child who had successfully leveraged her incredibly intuition and great self-concealment-noticing capabilities, was also a master of the subtle art of responding to treacherous threats such as the one glaringly pointed towards her incredible form, and had immediately began the process of releasing her own most trusted pocket monster,

Truly shows a world where offspring of human families, as early as the young age of ten, are cast out into the world of the wilderness already moderately capable in the skills necessary both to survive, and to thrive in it by exploiting the connection their society has built to these pocket monsters. For we are shown immediately how the offspring not only has the technological access and means to respond to this creature that has come confront her, but also has the mechanical training in facing such threats in the open, not backing out but by efficiently gauging the threat, choosing an appropriate response in terms of which member of her already captured pocket monsters to send, and executing the response swiftly.

And thus we are presented with another of these pocket creatures. Described, too, to great effect to juxtapose the simplicity and familiarity of its more general form, almost humanoid, with the more eerie and extraneous singular aspects of its composition and otherworldliness, capped with the emphasis put on the design constraints of the smile adorning the pocket monster's face disjoint, much unlike in the case of a human being, from the willingness or eagerness of the creature to perform such facial expressions familiar to us.

No time was wasted after the magical display had ended, however, for our peerless hero immediately began issuing an order to her most trusted partner pocket monster, using her limitless wisdom to quickly and efficiently decide the perfect attack for the situation,

Swiftly has the response been, definitively, and in effect the encounter is closed quickly with but the opening of a potential first volley of attacks. Which while prompts me to lament the lack of more distinctive and definitive time for action spent on-screen by the Nidoran specimen, speaks of an opportunity not wasted and, ultimately, of an encounter well chosen, and of the quality characteristics of the human character involved.

The third shake! This is the point of no return, the event horizon, the all-or nothing,

Thus we reach the culmination of this encounter, where all the momentum has carried us to, in a glorious (and meaty) excursion of the English language and the semantic constructs it permits for.

This was the room of one April McFolley,

All in all, definitively an entertaining story in its own way, and it takes it time to digest! Kudos for choosening one of the best Pokémon ever to feature too. And certainly I feel like this was a time well spent in reading, as hopefully I feel it was for you in writing.

Cheers, and enjoy words!
 

K_S

Unrepentent Giovanni and Rocket fan
Lovely how we go "verdent mysterious forest" to spasing old guy likely a seizure. I sense mood whiplash about the corner...

I am having flash backs to the kingsom heart fic "those lacking spines" particularly the segments relating to prose and sues...

Yay we gotta poisen bunny(an old nic for nido ran femakes males ect).. Per coloring and the spines in more than one spot i am guessung... Nido rino?

And per the obsessive amount of glitter and shiny with the ball tech i really hope this kid is dreaming... That or she stole her moms buetification case and rolled her starters pokeball in it and this is what happened.

That took one hundred and fifty words to describe her pokeball... One hundred and fifty...

My head hurts and my san. and int.points are dying... via mass suicide.

Help.

Oh so she has a haunter... Or ghastly? Ghost soemthing? And we have now completed the shout out to the title... Yay.

Still the scuffle was interestining...cif overblown but expectng her mind to operate otherwise... Isnt wise

Oh thank goodness for alarm clocks. Its over, the agony is.. Well for me... for whatever region she's geting unleashed on, nope, thats just starting...

That poor region....

Those poor legends if shes a legit ash replacment for her world

The poor villian team! I feel for them the most getting foiled by... That...

And if the over the top prose werent enough the name caps off the genre... Welp happy pre april fools i guess?

Well that was an interesting if midly traumatizing read. Thanks for sharing and hope you liked my reaction.
 
Last edited:

Spiteful Murkrow

Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
Pronouns
He/Him/His
Partners
  1. nidoran-f
  2. druddigon
  3. swellow
  4. quilava-fobbie
  5. sneasel-kate
  6. heliolisk-fobbie
:sevidazed:


Okay, so admittedly, it took me a while to realize that this fic was written as an April Fool's Day joke and probably as a purple prose challenge, but good lord, that first paragraph, man.
:ScaredCabot:


That said, now that I get that this is a meta joke, I think that I can come back with a fresh mind, if probably not as critical as I'd normally be in a read.

The verdant leaves of the mysterious forest covered the ground below, dotted with hunks of moss and brittle sticks and stones, rustled a manner not unlike the spasmic shaking of a man having a seizure, a glorious rustling formed perhaps by the movement of the various particles that comprised the very air surrounding it, or maybe by the minute movements of the various limbs of a pocket monster hiding from our brave hero. Truly, the various weather phenomena that could have caused this event could surely not have resulted in such consistent shaking of floral matter, and it thus must, in fact, be, a pocket monster of great self-concealing ability, attempting to camouflage itself with the materials of the glorious forest in a masterful, yet utterly meaningless, attempt at deception. Perhaps realising the futility of its attempts to hide from our brave, incredible hero, the creature leaped with grace through the air, revealing its bizarre and awe-inspiring form to the child, herself a pocket monster trainer of truly the very highest of orders, before it. Such majestic magenta skin mottled with soft-edged triangular shapes dyed a royal purple, bursting out of the main body in intimidating spires that reached for the heavens that could never truly be touched by mortals, in bewildering ears of equally bewildering shape, dyed internally in the most beautiful shade of darkened aquamarine, in midget limbs that struck the ground in a mighty thump as the peculiar creature at last landed on the earth once more.

Nidorino: "TL/DR, I'm awesome, and don't you forget it."

But alas, our brave hero, that young child who had successfully leveraged her incredibly intuition and great self-concealment-noticing capabilities, was also a master of the subtle art of responding to treacherous threats such as the one glaringly pointed towards her incredible form, and had immediately began the process of releasing her own most trusted pocket monster, already holding the miraculous device that would bring said most trusted pocket monster forth in a brilliant display of technological advancement and lots and lots of dazzling shiny light navy lights and sparkles and glitter. The capsule, the machine that embodied this age of technological advances, glistening in the forest-mottled light of the daytime solar spheroid of plasma, shone with the ever-brilliant hues of resplendent crimson and pure snow, divided by the abyssal darkness of a pure, pitch-black onyx line looping around the spherical object, with a smaller loop of spotless ivory shade, like a belt buckle, surrounding an equally dark, small jet black sphere, a small button, designed for the purpose of allowing for maximum convenience and ease of use, the function of which was to activate the primary function of the capture- and release mechanisms of the red and white capsule, was held in the right hand of the young trainer, the peerless hero of our grand and glorious epic, our wonderful story, reflecting the light of the ever-present sun, and casting a round shadow into the ground beneath it.

Or in layman's terms:

Trainer: "Gengar, go!"

The spheroid, not to be confused with the other spheroid that the planet itself was orbiting around, which was mentioned earlier in this beautiful, incredibly, awesome, resplendent story, was summarily ejected from the launch-capable limb of our hero through a method somewhat reminiscent of the launching of a baseball in a game of the same name as the ball that was just previously mentioned, flew through the air with perhaps even more grace than the mysterious creature that had appeared from the suspiciously consistently rustling floral matter, came to a sudden, though not at all unexpected and completely predicted by our hero, halt, before opening in a dazzling display of beautiful glistening light navy light, showering the forest around it in a lightshow of truly epic proportions, releasing the pocket monster stored within during the mesmerising display. The creature that manifested itself on the lush, mossy and grassy battlefield was a strange amalgamation of various features, a most regal deep purple shade enshrouding it in a natural camouflage that would allow it to seamlessly blend into the shadows themselves, its spherical body being connected to five limbs, two of them its arms and two of them its legs, with the last being reserved to its notably short tail, and a tuft of what might very well have seemed like hair for the unaware was visible between its two seemingly ear-like appendages. The bizarre anomalous entity’s most defining characteristic, however, must have been its face, twisted in a perpetual mischievous grin, incapable of being completely closed regardless of the creature’s wishes, and its vibrant carmine shaded eyes, like bent half-moons gazing towards the first beast in a manner that could not be called friendly in any sense of the word, regardless of what side the theoretical spectator that would be describing the emotions behind said eyes was taking.

Was there a challenge given out right before April Fool's Day for purple prosing stuff? Since my god that's a lot of words to say "the trainer sent out Gengar".
:grohno~1:


No time was wasted after the magical display had ended, however, for our peerless hero immediately began issuing an order to her most trusted partner pocket monster, using her limitless wisdom to quickly and efficiently decide the perfect attack for the situation, calling it out so that the strange shadowy creature she called a friend could perform it. A strange, shadowy mass began to manifest before the dark purple humanoid entity, building its form into a spherical blob of pitch black darkness, before it was swiftly flung directly towards the magenta beast, flying at it in a perfectly angled shot, leaving behind it a wispy trail of fading purple and black energy, which slowly dissipated into nothingness as the globe of misty darkness inched ever closer to the majestic creature before it. The majestic creature did its best to attempt to evade the attack that was being directed at it, but it was too late, for the pearl of darkness was already a hair’s breadth away, rapidly closing the distance between them and striking the beast in a direct hit, causing tremendous damage to its form, flinging it backwards in a wide arc and slamming it directly at a lush tree behind it, creating a loud banging sound not too different from the desperate knocking at the foot of a door performed by the hypothetical man suffering from a hypothetical seizure which was alluded to earlier in beginning of the story.

Nidorino: "So in other words, ow." @.@

Now that the enemy pocket monster had been successfully weakened to a more manageable state, the trainer began to move her arm-limb to scavenge her object-storing contraption, also known as a backpack, for another spherical object of dual pigmentation, the vibrant scarlet shade of its upper half juxtaposed with the blinding snow-white of the bottom of the orb, discovering one at the very last moment, just as the creature before her began to shake off its disorientation. The object glid through the air, a soft whistling sound echoing behind it as it soared towards the wounded beast, landing upon its thorned forehead with a dull thump, opening its round, mechanical maw and began the process of sucking the target within it, turning it first into a malleable energy, then sealing it inside its hollow shell with a strangely nostalgic sound that would perhaps be referred to as reminiscent of fizzling electricity by someone who has never heard the sound of fizzling electricity.

Nidorino: "Look, I'll go in the ball already! Just knock it off with the text walls!"
:CabotScared:


The first shake! This is the moment when the possibility of a successful capture dawns on the trainer, the moment when preemptive disappointment begins to dwindle and is replaced by growing anticipation, the point where the vague hope of catching the target becomes something tangible, an actual possibility instead of a vague idea. The second shake! The anticipation begins to build, the thought that the capture might truly be successful begins to overshadow the dull sense of preemptive failure that most trainers are already prepared to face from the moment the ball is thrown, and hope begins to blossom within the trainer’s heart. The third shake! This is the point of no return, the event horizon, the all-or nothing, next will come either a victory or a devastating loss, with no spectrum between the two, the anticipation, the excitement, the it begins to overflow, the air is thick with tension, the single moment of silence feels like it might stretch for an eternity, it is but a fleeting moment, gone far too quickly but contemplated for what feels like hours on end!-

:CabotDizzy:


If this was indeed written for a challenge. You did a very thorough job of meeting its requirements.

Beep! Beep Beep!

The alarm bell rang through the bedroom. It was seven in the morning, and sunlight was already peeking through the window shutters and past the green curtains.

This was the room of one April McFolley, who had already ran downstairs by now, and was currently in the process of devouring her breakfast in record time. There was no moments to be wasted. Today was a special day for her, after all.

It wasn’t every day that you began a pokémon journey.

I can't tell whether or not it was deliberate for April's dream sequence to be a purple prose nightmare and the rest defaults to a more normal presentation, but that's definitely one way to play up the difference between dreams and reality.

I admittedly am not sure how seriously I should be judging this story given that it's an April Fool's Day fic, but as a technical exercise to see how long you can stretch out the Gen 1 opening. Uh... bravo. I'm at once impressed and a little horrified. The one point of criticism I will level is that maybe it could be a bit easier to read in formatting, since while I get the meta point was to make an overly long joke, those paragraphs and some of those sentences in them are... something else, to say the least.

Thanks for being a good sport about the review, though if you have any more serious fare, I'd be interested in giving it a gander sometime, since you clearly have a grasp of how to write playing towards a challenge @Very_Tired_Person . ^^;
 
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