1108: The Great Rift – Author’s Note and Chapter OnePosted: July 16, 2015
Hello ladies and gentlemen.
You know what, I’m not even going to talk about FaCe ThE StRaNgE right now. Seriously, if I have to deal with any more of that homophobic bullshit, I’m going to strangle someone. I don’t even care that Dallas Philpott isn’t being serious, that kinda shit just pisses me off.
So fuck it, I’m turning to something else. Now, let’s see what—
*comes across a profile*
Well, this is gonna be interesting. I wonder, though… he mostly goes on about personal information about himself. It looks like he’s interested in film, and—
For starters I guess you could call me an avid film and cinema enthusiast, or just a media nerd! My history with film is a rather long one (most of my life), and I absolutely love the visual arts along with everything related.
I have always looked at the art of film from a more philosophical and pure emotional standpoint in terms of how a story is told on screen; it is simply a moving picture after all.
That is why I particularly admire the works of my favorite filmmaker Terrence Malick.
Terrence Malick? Huh, that’s actually a very interesting person to take inspiration from. That… Hm…
So he’s got one story, right? Huh, I wonder what the first chapter contains…
*squints, reads the rest of the chapter*
Oh my God, it’s a chapter-length author’s note!
Well, this isn’t a good sign. Seriously, think of the last time we had a fic with a chapter-length author’s note that actually was good. You can count them on nothing, right? ‘Cause none of them were!
And you know, patrons, it’s actually funny. See, here’s the best part: this author kept changing up this author’s note.
For those of you not aware, I tend to have my riffs written up way in advance of when they actually get posted. So actually, I saw two rewrites of this particular author’s note since I first discovered the fic. I first wrote this installment of the riff back in March (and actually did it before I got to Chapter 4 of FaCe ThE StRaNgE, believe it or not), so that should give you just the right idea of what it all does. It also plays into another issue that I have with this fic, but I’ll get to that at the end of the author’s note.
So yeah, he obsessively edited this full-chapter author’s note. So is it any surprise that it’s wound up here just judging from the fact that our dear author didn’t think to obsessively edit the actual story?
Either way, you’re seeing a version of this author’s note that was present during the period before March 19th. So it doesn’t match up with what you might see on the doc there.
Well, let’s get this over with.
Hey all, LimeyK here and this is my first fanfiction ever.
Oh, trust me, honey, it shows. The fact that you think a chapter-length A/N is anything even approaching a good idea proves that.
What better day to “premiere” this than on the last day of February, am I right?
To “premiere” it? Dude, unless you read this stuff out loud at an open mic for poetry or something, you don’t generally “premiere” a piece of writing. “Premiere” implies that there’s an exposition of stuff.
I know, I know, semantics. But really, you’re not giving me good vibes so far.
Aaand I’m sure none of you laughed at that, let alone spare a giggle except my awkward self. Yes, my attempts at humor usually are this dull.
Wait, that was supposed to be funny?
Well, at least the author acknowledges that there wasn’t any comedy to be found there. I’ll take that any day.
Anyways, this prelude contains important information in regards to reading the following story so (for those who haven’t yet started) it is well worth your time to READ THIS FIRST!
Important information, huh?
All right, LimeyK, I’ll keep that in mind.
Just to also clear this seemingly usual procedure, I DO NOT own Super Smash Brothers, Nintendo, their characters, or any other official game references I might use.
I DO on the other hand own the story, plot, and the OCs.
Ah, and there’s the disclaimer. I wonder what—
Why are there scene breaks in an author’s note!? I… WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE SCENE BREAKS IN AN AUTHOR’S NOTE!?!?
*headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*
Okay, I’m quickly losing hope for this author. This is seriously… WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD PUT A SCENE BREAK IN A GODDAMN AUTHOR’S NOTE!?!?
This is… I can’t even!
Well, let’s keep going. I guess we can only see how far downhill this goes.
So what we have here is a slightly… okay, quite modified version of the Super Smash Bros. story that my younger brother and I originally came up with (get this) over six years ago for Brawl in late 2008/early 2009.
Since then the whole prospect has laid dormant, but now the new Super Smash Bros. for Wii U/3DS (I’ll just call it Smash 4 U) has recently been released, so that ostensibly made my interests with this story fully re-ignited, and more.
That “ostensibly” made your interests re-ignited? Uh, honey, do you even know the definition of “ostensibly”? Here, let me pull it up for you:
apparently or purportedly, but perhaps not actually.
You’re writing this story down. It didn’t “ostensibly” re-ignite your interests with this story, it actually re-ignited your interests.
Jesus Christ, the story hasn’t even started yet and already he’s trying too hard to look smart. This is not good, guys.
Anyway, we get another scene break, and then we just continue on.
Allow me to take a few minutes and start off by saying I am a long time huge Nintendo and Smash Bros. fan.
I consider myself competent at the games in terms of my own skill, as I’ve played each of them over the years since I was quite young.
Okay… Apparently, your skill at video games is completely relevant to why you decided to write a fanfiction, even though we’ll never be seeing your skill at video games, nor does it actually count towards anything.
Ever since my brother and I came up with this story, it’s always clung to my mind for some reason, so perhaps that’s why I feel so compelled to finally try and share it with others.
This is not necessarily strictly from the Super Smash Bros. universe, but rather a story set against the backdrop of the entire collection of Nintendo worlds or our own “universe” that my brother and I imagined when we were at least six years younger, respectively.
A Nintendo “universe”? Hm… Well, on the one hand, I suppose that would solve a question of how you would do a Smash Bros. fanfic. But at the same time, the well-known Nintendo properties are so diverse… how would that really impact the universes?
Eh, I’m sure it’s not that important.
We then get another line break, and we move on:
The story category however is still Super Smash Bros. because of the characters and the initial plot concept.
The actual story itself is only loosely based on the Subspace Emissary after all, so when all is said and done, it is really not even close.
I’m gonna take note of that, actually. The last time someone said something was “loosely based” on another fic, we got From another world, and that was about as loosely based on Parallel Realities as The Hunger Games movies are on their book counterpats. So I’m sorry if it really is very loosely based, but I’m not taking any chances here.
The only sort of similarities lay in this first act as you’ll find out, because after that is when things will get significantly different.
I really hope you guys will find it enjoyable though, because the true manner of which I envision this is indeed quite grand in its scope.
The true manner you envision it?
Oh dear… Please don’t tell me we’ve got one of these types over here.
This is a visually demanding story for the imagination mostly exhibited through my style of writing, since I do try to keep exposition to a minimum.
Visually demanding story? Dude, you’re dealing with the written word here! How the fuck is a story supposed to be “visually demanding”?
I promise a moment’s patience in thinking will be well worth it from truly getting absorbed into the story and its detail.
Um… is this guy starting to sound like a Maxie-boy expy to anyone else, or is that just me?
As if all in an individual shot for shot format, character’s (both who are mentioned and not, but still present in the scene) facial expressions and complex inner thoughts must always be considered for the true emotional impact to be sufficiently addressed.
The entire “look” and “feel” of the story are very ethereal and philosophically subjective in the sense of perception on a character’s personal nature.
In other more simple words, it’s all about the cinematic atmosphere surrounding their emotions and the subsequent mood created from a slower read.
Holy shit. I didn’t think… Wow.
I mean, Jesus Christ. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to out-Maxie-boy goddamn Maxie-boy, but LimeyK has found a way. I mean, Jesus Christ, look at this! Have you ever heard anyone spell out something so basic about narrative as if he were trying to spell it out as a bit of mystical narrative!? This is seriously like what you get if Maxie-boy had a love child with friggin’ Captain Africa or Lord Asmodeus or one of those people!
I mean, seriously, “facial expressions and complex inner thoughts must always be considered”? Well no goddamn shit, LimeyK: knowing how a character feels at one point about certain things is kind of a big fucking deal. You don’t have to spell it out for us in those terms, ‘cause most good authors already have the presence of mind to do that without actually, you know, telling their readers they’re doing that. And why the hell would the “look” and “feel” of the story be very ethereal for a goddamn Super Smash Brothers fanfic? Are you writing a magic realism story? Are you writing Finnegan’s Wake again?
And it doesn’t even make all that much sense, anyway! What the hell do you mean, “cinematic atmosphere”? What the hell do you mean “shot for shot format”?
Are you saying you’re trying to think of this as a film?
That is why I really wish I could make this as a film, an animated flash series, or something visually of that sort because many times I don’t think my writing does the vision proper justice.
I guess it only makes sense though because my brother and I in fact did initially discuss this all as a film, and not a “papered” story.
Right, so our author is thinking of this as a film. Then honey, just make a film!
Seriously, you are aware of the fact that a “papered” story is very different from a filmed story, right? And… wait, he’s going on about how it’s all ethereal and philosophical it all is.
Yup, this is that kind of author.
You know, patrons, we often tell people that thinking of fanfiction as if it were a visual medium is usually a terrible, terrible idea. We haven’t even left the initial author’s note, and here we have an author that I now have full confidence will prove to be an example of why you don’t think in those terms.
And actually, since he mentioned Terrence Malick as an example of a filmmaker he looked up to, he gave me the perfect example to discuss why that is. And honestly, I think I can qualify without going into the body of the fic why that is since LimeyK has gone through the trouble of highlighting his philosophy on storytelling right off the bat! So that makes this really easy.
Because honestly? Yeah. This guy really is thinking about storytelling in the same way that Terrence Malick thinks about filmmaking.
Now, let’s talk about why, shall we?
Okay, so Terrence Malick, for those of you who don’t know, is a filmmaker. He also got a degree in philosophy from Harvard, way back before a philosophy degree was the thing you did if you were like Captain Africa and were just a pretentious douche who thought he knew everything. He actually would’ve gotten a doctorate from Oxford in that study if not for a disagreement with his tutor.
So instead, he went into filmmaking; his big break was in 1973 with Badlands with Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek. Reportedly, it managed to overshadow goddamn Martin Scorsese at that year’s New York Film Festival. Since then, across his nearly forty-year career, he actually hasn’t produced a whole lot of movies (there was a twenty-year gap between Days of Heaven and The Thin Red Line where he didn’t do anything), though lately he’s sort of had this creative outpouring. Among other awards, he’s won the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Festival for The Tree of Life.
And yes, I have in fact seen The Tree of Life. It’s actually a wonderful movie, and in my opinion it fully deserves that Palme d’Or. The problem is, however, that The Tree of Life is a great movie for all the reasons that LimeyK sounds pretentious as hell when trying to translate it to the written word.
See, the thing about The Tree of Life is that it’s got an extremely bare-bones plot, to the point that you could theoretically argue that it doesn’t really have a plot at all. And that’s actually part of the point: the film is a meditation on the meaning of life, and it meditates on it by going through the whole geological history of the earth for about half an hour, before it then concentrates most of the rest of its runtime on the childhood of a suburban boy in the 50’s. Oh, and occasionally it cuts to Sean Penn looking stressed and alone, since he’s the suburban boy all grown up. And really, there isn’t much plot to speak of: most of what you get there is impressions of moments. You see a boy’s impressions of an accident that is never fully explained, yet you don’t really need to have it explained to you to get the impression that it’s life-changing. You see a mother’s love. You see a harsh father.
And you know what else you see? A metric shit-ton of really, really weird visual metaphors.
Like this scene, for instance:
Which is a metaphor for pregnancy and childbirth.
Or this scene:
Which is supposed to symbolize heaven, or the ultimate reward for love. (I’ll admit that this scene actually confused the hell out of me on the initial viewing, but watching the scene again, it actually makes a lot more sense now that I remember the quote from Job that opens the movie.)
And then there is also a lot of characterization done throughout. Take this scene, for instance:
See, the point is, this isn’t a movie about plot. The Tree of Life doesn’t really have a plot, but the visual information is so dense and so carefully constructed that honestly, I would say it doesn’t need a plot. It’s about atmosphere: it sets up an atmosphere that allows for a philosophical experience. It also has rich characterization from everyone, and some of it is actually conveyed pretty visually. It’s atmospheric, it demands your attention, and if you think about the symbolism you’re rewarded with a rich tapestry to ponder on.
This is exactly the kind of thing LimeyK is talking about throughout that part of the author’s note. He actually gets Malick’s style. And honestly, there’s something to be said for the fact that there’s someone on the internet who is actually able to articulate what that style does so well, and that he likes it. So actually, we don’t have the faux intelligence of CaptainAfrica, nor do we have the spirit of someone who just flat-out doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about like Maxie-boy. No, we have someone who actually deeply understands the process of a filmmaker who most people say is one of the most obtuse filmmakers working today. So he’s actually intelligent.
Well, to a point, anyway. Because if he really thought about it, he’d realize that this hyper-imagistic approach just doesn’t translate to the written word. And the thing that makes him come off as so pretentious here is the fact that he implies that he can write a super-imagistic story the exact same way that Malick can shoot a film.
Sorry, LimeyK, but that’s not the case. See, you don’t seem to understand something very important about how image is perceived between the two media.
As most of us patrons understand, cinema is a language that relies on the image. You can get a lot of information from an image, especially if you lace together a tapestry of very specific images with specific associations in the mind. This is a fact that Malick exploits masterfully in his visual metaphors: he gives images with fairly specific associations that inform the context of the metaphor. There’s a reason that the boy swims out of an underwater door and then the camera cuts to movement towards the light you can see from under the water: it’s a way of saying he’s moving out towards something. Then, when we cut to Jessica Chastain in labor and see the baby a few seconds later, you realize “oh, that kid was getting born, and it’s about the experience of the baby being born more than it is about the mother”. Couple that with the fact that it’s the same actor swimming towards the light as it is the one that basically the entire rest of the film focuses on, and that completes the metaphor. There’s a degree of specificity you can get in film imagery, and Malick gets that about film.
But that kind of specificity of image is lost in the written word. See, since there is no visual image given, the reader has to provide their own image. That means the image is likely going to differ between people given that people will always bring their own history to an image conjured up in their mind. And it might not even be a macro thing: small details can change. Look at various book-to-screen adaptations if you want examples! Why do you think the Harry Potter movies always changed their clothing styles between the movies whenever a new director took over? Why do you think that Ralph Bakshi’s Sauron is so different visually from Peter Jackson’s take on the same character? Why do you think that the Dune miniseries that was produced by SyFy has a visual style that’s very different from the much more famous David Lynch movie—and indeed how both are different from Jodorowsky’s failed attempt to put it to film? It’s because film directors have to bring something of their own to bring the source to life. The written word can get at an image, but the specific image you get depends on the individual’s interpretation. What is a book-to-screen adaptation but an interpretation of the text: similarly, what is the image that comes to the reader’s mind but an interpretation of the information written down on the page?
Image is much more subjective in the written word than it is on celluloid. Sure, you can describe things all you want to get close to the image you want, but the specific details you picture will not always line up with what the reader imagines. You can never get specific with a written image the way you can with a film image.
And that leads me to saying why it’s a bad idea to imagine a fanfic as if you were making a movie: you can’t convey information the same way across the two media. And all this stuff about the image? Honey, the specificity of image is only the tip of the iceberg! There’s the fact that films are experienced in real time while you can go and reread a paragraph in a book as many times as you want! There’s the fact that you can just have the written word tell us the wording of a character’s thoughts in a way you can’t in film! There’s the fact that film has all these storytelling devices you can’t use in written fiction! And there’s the fact that what would be considered “showing” in the written word can sometimes be “telling” on the screen, and vice versa.
But with you talking about writing a fanfic as if it were a visual medium, I’m going to bet you anything that you’re not even thinking about all the rest of that stuff. So we’ll just leave it at “you can’t convey visual information the same way”.
And that, LimeyK, is why your style is doomed to failure. You’re assuming a bunch of things about the written word, none of which are true. Because of this, you spelling out your whole philosophy on writing (as if any of us actually care about that sort of thing) not only makes you look pretentious, it frankly also makes you look like an idiot.
So put the DVD player away and read a book. Only then, are you allowed to write a written fanfic.
Wow. I never, ever thought I would get to discuss Terrence Malick’s use of the image in the Library. But holy ballsacks, it happened.
The things you do for a snarking, am I right?
Anyway, after that, we get a line break, and then we get this:
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, this is imagined with the Super Smash Bros. for Wii U portrayal of characters.
Not all smashers are included here though, and that’s just because I wanted to keep the scope and scale manageable for what the story required.
You know what? I feel like I should be taking down notes for this. Come to think of it, wasn’t there something at the tail end of that author’s note I should note?
I do try to keep exposition to a minimum.
*notes that as well*
The whole new and expanded plot, different characters as well as new characters, subplots, and much more substance into character motivations will be explored as I continue writing whenever I have sufficient time.
Well, hey, it’s whatever.
Once again, take care guys and please feel free to leave honest thoughts and comments!
I’m all ears and I’d love to hear what you think!
Yeah, funny story about that: it took a roundabout approach to stuff.
Because back in March, I saw him make edits to the author’s note here, and it got to the point where he apologized to readers (that he didn’t even have, by the way, considering that his story was probably the only story I’ve ever seen on fanfiction.net that never got any follows or favorites!) and said he was working on the next chapter. At that point, I gave him a very long review that told him “hey, your approach to prose is flawed, this is why it’s flawed, this is why your prose is bad, and you need to drop the philosophical pretension”. It actually went on for a while, and honestly I felt it was pretty constructive. It was certainly an honest thought, anyway, so he got exactly what he asked for.
LimeyK’s response was to delete the fic. But after that… I dunno, my feelings are a bit mixed, ’cause then he posted this to his profile:
In which he talked about my review being “helpful pointers”, and that he considers this version of The Great Rift to be something of an old shame. (And yes, I’m saying “my review”, because prior to The Great Rift being taken off the face of the internet I was the only one who reviewed.)
And to be honest… well, you do see a hell of a lot of improvement in his new fic. For one thing, it doesn’t actually hurt my eyes to read it (you’ll see what I mean further down), and it actually has flow. Unfortunately, on the flip side, his newer fiction really ramped it up on the pretension. But I’ll talk about that as we hit the end of this riff.
‘Cause for now, I have the rest of this fic saved elsewhere, and anyway this installment is all written up. So why waste a perfectly good opportunity to riff something, right?
Let’s move on to the actual story, now, shall we? I wonder what we’ll get with—
** ACT 01 – WHEN THE WORLDS COLLIDE **
CHAPTER 01 – BEFORE THE CELEBRATIONS
Okay, so we open with that. Right. The zero in front of the one is unnecessary, but hey, it’s whatever.
Now can we please get the actual—?
A distant drone of cheering rose over the sound of rushing wind as the thick clouds slowly dissipated to reveal a huge floating structure in the sky.
Magnificent columns of sun rays showered the surrounding walls of clouds as a flying transport bus flew into view.
“Welcome to Midair Stadium folks,” The bus’s flyer warmly announced back to the excited riders crowded on who were all gazing up at the towering silhouette.
AAAAAAGH, HOLY SHIT MY EYES!!!
*is blown across the room*
Jesus Christ with a side of ceviche, that prose! Oh my God, that prose!
That has to be some of the worst purple prose I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean, honestly? Yeah, this style isn’t visual at all. I mean, even for something where you want the image to be so specific, you’re not describing some things! What the hell is this “flying transport bus”? What does it look like? How is it staying in the air? Maybe instead of using your prose to describe the mood of the day, you should use it to describe the physical objects? You know, the only thing that matters?
And good God, man, commas! Do you not know how to use them?
And wait… Are all the descriptive bits literally sentenceographs?
“We will be arriving on the second level at docking bay two-a. Make sure you have your tickets at the ready, for they will be checked upon entering.”
The docking bays were flooded with similar buses unloading their streams of riders, all eager and crowding to get to the ticket check-in lines.
In one area, a large booth for making bets was surrounded by a sea of hands eagerly holding up money to place down.
“Step right up and place your bets here on who will win the first round today! Place your bets here!”
Holy shitsnacks, dude.
After this, we get a line break, and—
Following the almost continuous flow of spectators through a labyrinth of hallways boasting gift shops, food stands, and other booths of all sorts, a final hallway was turned onto revealing an archway of bright light at the end.
Um… what was following the continuous flow of spectators? And what is all that in relation to?
The shape became larger as the numerous silhouettes of bobbing heads clamored excitedly.
The shape of what? What the hell shape are you talking about?
A swelling rise of ambient stadium music and audience fanfare enveloped one as the archway of light cleared to reveal a grand sight.
“Enveloped one”? So are we following the point of view of a mosquito? What the hell is going on in this prose? Who are we using as reference to describe this place?
We’re supposed to be imagining it like it’s a camera panning through all those locations, aren’t we?
Wow. I just… wow. You know you’ve failed at writing prose when you do something that not even goddamn Insane Doctor would do to confuse the written word with a movie. And with purple prose, too. That, my friend, is a goddamn accomplishment.
The audience stands were jam packed with all sorts of Nintendo creatures and beings from every one of the participating lands and worlds.
In the lower central section of the stadium was the boxed off royal balcony, where many of the royal families and high ranking officials came from around the known galaxy to be judges for the tournament.
Wait, so the royal families and whatever officials are judging the tournament? Well, I guess we all know why the whistle was actually blown on the NSA. Seriously, what reputable government agency would send high-ranking officials to judge goddamn fighting tournaments?
Despite several seats still empty, almost every one of them had arrived by now since being early was rather quintessential for those at their status.
First off, you accidentally a word there. Second, there were several seats that were still empty, yet they had all arrived? I’d be concerned about attendance by high paying patrons, guys. Seriously, the fact that some of them are skipping out of it doesn’t bode well for the futre of this tournament.
They too all conversed positively as they greeted each other in proper royal and upper-class fashion.
Royal and upper-class fashion? Isn’t that technically the same—
*hides under the desk*
Release Robespierre’s army!
[Scene Redacted for Extreme Violence]
Wow, Robespierre was a dick. Holy shit…
Uh, yeah, Shinobi-san, I need a clean-up on Aisle 3, please. There are severed heads everywhere.
In part of the front row sat Princess Peach, her steward Toadsworth, her tomboyish sister Daisy, Princess Zelda, and Birdo all clamoring with each other unanimously.
Wait, what!? What the hell is Birdo doing there?
I mean, I know Princess Daisy is… well. And I also know Zelda’s a princess. But Birdo? Part of royalty? What!?
So, I know this is some kind of hybrid universe you made, right? So hopefully there’ll be some explanation as to what the hell Birdo is doing here, right?
Well, I guess it’s par for course around these parts. Oh well…
While all this lively activity flourished on the outside, in the bowels of this giant arena was the extensive training room where all the smashers were gathering.
Okay, and what the hell was going on down there? Was it absolutely dead compared to the hustle and bustle of the above ground stuff? Was it even rowdier than what was going on? What is the contrast, LimeyK? What’s the contrast!?
Oh, right, the line break. That’s apparently what passes for contrast, now. And that means we cut to…
Mario set a towel gently around his neck and clenched the ends with his half-sweaty hands.
…half naked Mario.
*runs for the Brain Bleach Jacuzzi*
Aaaagh! The mental image! Agh! My eyes! They burn! They burn!
He stared with an eager sense of determination across the training room towards his bracket belligerent, Kirby, who seemed stress free and, if anything, happy-go-lucky.
The pink star warrior was innocently bouncing around the central mat, practicing some of his air kicks and spins while Mario watched on from his corner with interest.
So it starts off like Subspace Emissary… where the first match is Mario vs. Kirby. Okay. So apart from Birdo randomly being a royal now (seriously, what the hell is up with that?), nothing much has changed. So where are the—
Around the giant room there were numerous combatants present from at least all nations around the planet N85.
Ooooooh, everyone else is there, too. Okay, that actually is a pretty dramatic change from Subspace Emissary.
The hero of time Link himself was sitting alone in silence on a bench while checking his sword edges, as well as polishing his hylian shield for any etches.
Checking his sword edges? I mean, I know you gotta keep a sword sharp if you’re gonna use it in combat, but I’m pretty sure they don’t refer to it as “checking the sword edges”. And why would anyone draw an etching on his shield? It seems kind of counterproductive to produce art on a shield that’s already painted over, y’know? Not that polishing it would hide the etches anyway, but whatever.
Kanto’s famous Pokémon trainer Red was making sure his poke-balls were in order for the upcoming fights.
His Pokémon Pikachu sat attentively on his shoulder, watching the others with occasionally twitching ears.
Practicing in front of them were the others of Red’s selects: Jiggly Puff, Charizard, and Greninja.
The three Pokémon were taking turns maneuvering around one another in getting down proper moves as well as counter attacks.
“Greninja, why don’t you show Jiggly Puff some tips on dodging.” Red suggested to the water Pokémon, who nodded happily and proceeded to do just that with the balloon Pokémon.
Wow. All that could’ve been one goddamn paragraph. It also could’ve been a lot more detailed. I mean, you’re not going to describe what kinds of proper moves and counter attacks the Pokémon were practicing? You’re not going to describe how they were maneuvering around each other? Nothing?
Really? Fucking really? How the fuck do you mess up Jigglypuff’s name like that? It’s one word! One!
Also trotting into the room was Yoshi with some others hailing from Dinosaur Land.
Wait, what? “Dinosaur Land”?
Wow, how do you mess up Yoshi’s location so badly? It’s “Yoshi’s Island”, dude! Yoshi’s Island! Shit, there is even a goddamn Super Mario game with that title!
Seriously, it says something when your naming of a location would be immediately undone with a quick playthrough of goddamn Mario Kart!
He briefly stopped and made sure his boots were laced tight before conducting a variety of training kicks and head-butts on an available sandbag.
And once again, our overly visual method of storytelling is doing absolutely nothing to be overly visual by way of not describing details.
I know it’s weird that I’m saying you can’t do it like a film and then criticizing it for not describing details, but come on. If his massive thesis statement is going to say he’s gonna do one thing and then he doesn’t even do it well, it’s kind of suspect. And also kind of a tell towards the fact that even he doesn’t seem to know what the hell he was saying in the author’s note.
Never mind, this may be a Maxie-boy case after all!
Enthusiastically pep-talking his one and only boxer was the former heavy weight champion Doc Louis and Little Mac at a hanging punching bag.
So wait, so how did they fit into the punching bag itself? I know Little Mac is a tiny dude, but how did Doc Louis fit there as well?
“There you go Mac, just like that! Now keep it goin’ son!”
The young boxer performed an impressive string of swift jabs and slugs onto the bag.
With a final strong upper cut, he sent the bag rocketing around in circles on its hanger.
Wiping his wet forehead, Little Mac was given a towel and congratulated by his friendly trainer.
And there’s another thing that could’ve been one paragraph, but wasn’t for some stupid reason. I guess paragraphs are that thing that other authors do, right?
“That was beautiful,” He took a bite of his chocolate bar. “Looks like you’re all set.”
The boxer nudged him gently on the belly and acknowledged, “All thanks to you, Doc.”
Gently nudging the trainer on the belly?
Dangit, Herr, get your mind out of the gutter!
In yet another corner of the large training mat were prince Marth, the mercenary Ike, Roy, Chrom, and Lucina all talking energetically while practicing some sword moves with each other.
Oh no. Oooooooh no.
The Fire Emblem crew have arrived. And if LimeyK treats Fire Emblem continuity the way other fans of Smash Brothers do?
Ah well, at least Roy’s back in the fold. That’ll make a bunch of fans happy. Especially since he’s never going to–
“See Roy, you go like this. Hya!” Lucina demonstrated an elegant yet powerful thrust move on a sandbag.
“Elegant”? I’m not sure “elegant” is in Lucina’s vocabulary, even!
Roy whimsically turned to Marth
“Whimsically”? So Roy turned to Marth while Mara Wilson poked her head out from the background and did her Matilda routine? Did he turn with a clarinet flourish while his eyes were shining?
and teased, “She’s pretty good at thrusting her sword, eh Marth?”
How is a possible double-entendre supposed to be whimsical?
The warrior princess screwed up her face and sarcastically laughed in response.
See? Even Lucina knows that’s bullshit! You go girl.
“They have a point you know,” Chrom rubbed the back of his neck and joked.
Wait, why was I drinking coffee, anyway? I hate that shit!
*tosses cup to the side*
And I know that Chrom is used in Robin’s final smash, but… you know… there’s the rather important thing about oh, the fact that, you know, technically, Chrom is the king of Ylisse. So, you know…
WHY THE FUCK ISN’T HE UPSTAIRS WITH PEACH AND ZELDA!?!?
Hello! LimeyK! He’s a king! Come on! Put him where he should be!
“Oh, you’d know a thing or two about thrusting, that I’m sure of.” Lucina shot a smug grin back to him.
Dude, EEEWWWWW!!!! LimeyK, what the fuck!? Lucina is his goddamn DAUGHTER, you sicko! What the fuck were you thinking!?!? I just…
*jumps into the Brain Bleach Jacuzzi*
Ike rested his great sword upon his shoulder and smiled, assuring her, “Don’t worry Lucina; they still have much to learn.”
They have much to learn? So they have much to learn about double-entendres, and not the lady who just lobbed one at her fucking FATHER?!
What the actual fuck am I reading!?
Chrom was meanwhile glancing up at the time on the wall and sighed, setting his hand on his sword hilt.
“Well my friends, I’m sorry but I have to get back up with Robin before my seat’s taken. That happened once before and I’m deadest on never repeating that experience.”
“Fair enough, we shan’t keep you waiting then!” Marth turned and patted his friend on the shoulder.
He thus began to take his leave before turning back one last time.
“Oh and hey, I wish all of you the best of luck. One time perhaps I’ll summon enough courage to try a smash tournament myself.”
Oh, okay, you are supposed to be up there. Good, just… please, please go up there before Lucina throws any more double-entendres at you. We don’t need any more of that, thank you very much.
Some other combatants present included fighter Koopas, Goombas, Shy Guys, Toads, Gorons, Waddle-dees, Waddle-doos, Fighter-dees, a number of weapon-wielding humanoid fighters both male and female, brawlers from various lands, and still a plethora of others.
And there were mook-type enemies around as well. So are they planning on recreating the Adventure Mode from Melee, or…?
That is, until the floor started shaking and in lumbered Donkey Kong with a carefree Diddy Kong skipping beside him.
And then they caused trouble, is that it?
All were welcome in the smash tournaments from anywhere around galaxy N.
Oh, right: apparently it was full of all those mooks and a plethora of other fighters, before DK and Diddy came in and roared to remind them all that they were mooks, and nothing more. Hence, they all fled the arena.
The other smashers reacted accordingly:
Anyway, we then get another line break, and we cut to:
Looks-a-like almost everyone’s here then. Mario thought to himself.
The same goddamn scene we were already in.
Do I even need to tell you what’s wrong with that set-up? Mario was looking over everyone, and cutting back to him required a scene transition back to him? That isn’t even good storytelling in film, never mind prose! What the hell!?
His attention began to wander until a familiar voice suddenly sounded to his left.
“Ciao bro, how’s it going?” Luigi patted Mario on the shoulder and sat down beside him.
Oh great. Mario and Luigi talk in this fic. Ain’t this just perfect?
From outside the entrance hall to the stadium the massive reverbed sounds of the crowd blasted in and shook the training room walls, bellowing with a monstrous roar.
Wait, so there was an entrance to the stadium, and the crowd’s roar was so loud that it shook the training room walls?
Taco, you handle this. I’m not touching this with a ten foot pole if I can help it.
Mario adjusted his cap as he replied, “Just-a-waiting for it to begin, as is everyone else.”
Luigi raised his eyebrow and thought for a moment.
“Look bro, you know this is-a-my first time smashing so I am-a-quite scared.” He shakily admitted.
“This is my first time smashing”… from a character who has been on the roster of every single installment of Super Smash Brothers since the original game on the N64.
Right, ‘cause that makes sense! Yeah, why go with the actual Smash Brothers franchise when you can just reference that one video the Game Grumps did with Markiplier and consider that canon over anything Nintendo ever did?
Mario simply smiled and put his arm around his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Well I hope-a-you know as well as I do that you fight-a-better when you are scared. Remember your little snags at-a-the mansion?”
The green shirted plumber somewhat lightened up upon thinking about these words from his older brother.
“You have-a-your moments Luigi,” Mario further assured him, “Don’t-a-worry bro, you’ll do just-a-fine. We’ll all be cheering you-a-the whole way, especially Daisy!”
Luigi felt a bit better and nodded, agreeing with both the inspiring words and himself.
So Luigi agreed with himself… despite the fact that Luigi’s self is directly contradicting Mario. ‘Cause that makes sense, right?
“Say, who are you up against anyway in the first-a-bracket?” Mario looked back over for Kirby, but he was not on the central training mat anymore.
“Link, oh boy.” Luigi answered with a hint of shakiness as Link meanwhile was watching the brothers.
*is jolted in place*
Sorry, that was the prose whiplash I just experienced reading this.
The hero of time cocked his head back in a friendly gesture and smiled, but Luigi jumped where he sat and instead turned away, scratching his neck nervously.
Luigi jumped and “instead” turned away… as opposed to running over and giving Link a hug? ‘Cause that would be pretty weird from Luigi…
Mario suddenly felt a light nudge on his leg and looked down to see the pink star warrior smiling, holding up his blobby arm.
“Blobby” arm? Since when was Kirby related to the Michelin tire man?
The red shirted plumber smiled and they shook hands.
“Poyo.” Kirby lightly commented while Mario gave a quick responsive wink.
“Let’s-a-go,” He confidently replied. “The opening ceremony will-a-start soon.”
Oh, good, maybe we can actually end this chapter right—
Luigi nodded before nervously fixing his attention to the door, damply groaning,
“Damply groaning”? How the hell do you make a wet groan? Is that even goddamn possible?
“Oh no… He’s-a-here too!”
The training room quieted down somewhat as a proud Captain Falcon strode in.
This bounty hunter held a formidable and rather smashing reputation in every sense of the word.
*looks back at the author’s note*
Minimal exposition, huh?
Our style with minimal exposition, ladies and gentlemen! One in which character qualities are only introduced by the author telling us information about him. You know. Exposition!
“Hey-ho Mario,” He called over, flicking his signature two finger forehead salute. “Wanna practice a bit while there’s still time?”
Hey-ho? Captain Falcon would seriously greet people with that?
Well, at least it’s not time-travelling Captain Falcon from the Deep South. That would just be stupid, right?
Mario tipped his cap in response. “Thanks-a-but no thanks Captain, I don’t-a-want to make anything sore right now.”
With an understanding chuckle, Captain Falcon walked into the center and began stretching, flexing his already visible muscular stature.
What? It’s Captain Falcon! Have you seen how tight that jumpsuit is? He’s goddamn walking mancandy!
“Gotta make sure your muscles are all stretched out for the fight!” He proudly proclaimed.
“It could be the only difference between a KO for you and victory for them!”
As he rambled on about benefits of stretching, the bounty hunter’s boisterous announcements attracted him amused stares from around the room.
So his own announcements attracted himself? So what the hell is everyone staring at? ‘Cause if they’re staring at his taught buttocks, well, more power to them, but what prompted them to do that?
Good God, the mechanics of this prose!
Link glanced up and eyed him for several moments. He scoffed lightly, shaking his head and going back to testing the twang of his bow.
*flops on the couch*
Oh, thank God, finally! A paragraph with more than one sentence in it! So he does know what paragraphs are! Jeez, why doesn’t he just employ them more often?
Was he trying to show off to everyone else around?
Wha—well, don’t ask me! You’re the one who’s supposed to make that shit clear, narration!
Perhaps so, because he then swiftly leaped over to a free sandbag and began beating the living daylights out of it.
Um… who in their right mind would write their prose like that outside of a prose where you’re simulating how an interview works? Especially since, once again, it’s a form of telling us information about how to perceive an action instead of showing us.
You know. Exposition!
At another sandbag nearby, Donkey Kong did likewise, hurling his huge fists about and pelting the figure while some others looked on with a hint of fear.
You mean the ones that didn’t run out scared earlier that you never described running out because good prose that actually directs your mental image in the right direction is apparently that thing that other authors do.
While Doc Louis gave Little Mac a final pat on the shoulder before leaving, the young boxer went straight back to the bag and unleashed another storm of punches.
Okay, so Captain Falcon goes to punching bags, and then Donkey Kong and Little Mac follow suit. Um, didn’t the crowd roar in anticipation several paragraphs ago? When’re they going to start the opening ceremonies?
Luigi worriedly turned to his brother and asked, “Mario, are there normally this-a-many burly fighters…?”
*raises finger, than pauses*
Actually, to be fair, Little Mac is packed with a lot of muscle. So yeah, it’s not totally inaccurate…
Mario nodded. “Normally Wario, Bowser, Ganondorf, and-a-King Dedede are here too, but they haven’t arrived yet. You can-a-count on them coming though.”
Luigi could only swallow and wipe a drop of sweat forming on his nose.
There you go. See, that’s how you convey information without exposition. Now can you maybe do that?
Mario thought a moment before going on, “Speaking of which, where are Wario and-a-Waluigi?”
Luigi took off his cap and rubbed his head while replying, “They said they didn’t have-a-time for this one; probably too busy in the shop making-a-more micro-games or something for-a-money. You know how they are.”
His brother nodded agreeably.
Wow, Mario and Luigi are apparently expert back-talkers if Mario can make a gesture that indicates he’s glad for that shit! Passive aggressive much, Mario?
Kirby hopped up onto the bench next to them, seemingly interested in the conversation the brothers were having.
“Poyo?” He wondered.
Luigi took another look around the room and asked, “So… eh, who was arriving late again? I know not everyone is-a-here yet.”
Mario counted fingers as he listed, “Well, for one the burlies as you put them, Fox and-a-Falco, some brawlers from the Planet of Nations, and… hmm, one I’m-a-forgetting.”
Kirby tapped the red shirted plumber on the arm. “Poyo!”
Mario’s face brightened as he recalled the last late arriver, “Ah yes! Mama-mia, how could I-a-forget? Meta Knight of course.”
So it’s a style that doesn’t rely on exposition? Which is why, of course, we’re being told about who is going to show up late to this tournament.
You know. EXPO-FUCKING-SITION!
Clearly, someone doesn’t know what exposition means. And as such, it’s time to get a counter going!
*walks out, walks back in with the equipment*
Okay, so that was Captain Falcon’s cockiness, that thing with the question, and now this with who’s missing the tournament.
*hits buzzer three times*
“Minimal” Exposition Count: 3
Luigi thoughtfully nodded. “Heh, Fox and Falco? Both some fast and-a-burly smashers? They are all-a-very skilled, but it’s not… eh, too bad I suppose.”
Mario then leaned in close. “If anyone, I’m-a-worried about you if-a-we do get to face each other later on!”
His brother blushed slightly and stuttered, “But… I’m-a-not better than you Mario, you’ve been here-a-many times.”
Mario simply raised an eyebrow, nudging his shoulder. “How about-a-beginner’s luck?”
Pfft, beginner’s luck applying to Luigi? Girl, please, he was one of the original twelve, and was the one who could be counted on to be the unlockable character for most of the series!
Well, at the end of the day, I guess he wasn’t wrong: this prose is visually demanding to read. You know, in that reading it makes you want to tear your hair out from the sheer frustration of dealing with how shit the prose is. It’s badly formatted, it doesn’t actually seem interested in painting any real pictures, the mechanics are often wonky as hell, and the choice of words in some places is just weird.
Yep, this’ll do nicely as a break from Homophobe Land!
I’ll see you guys next time. And keep your eyes peeled, ‘cause I’ll bet you guys ten bucks it’s with more boring prose and shit.