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Advanceshipping General Discussion

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DarkDreams

Whispers in the dark...
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No plot ideas though :(

You don't? Have one of mine!I have too much ideas anyway >3> I won't be able to finish all my fics by May at the rate i'm going.

How about a small fic on about how Ash feels about the roses Drew gives May? Or one about Max wanting a demonstration on kissing and he picks Ash and May?
 

Princess of Hoenn

blue skies and sunshine ♥
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Eh, who'm I kidding... I probably won't end up writing anything.

WHAT?! that's not the writing spirit! lol im teasing. if you won't write it then, i shall take the responsibility! *adopts commander pose* DD, im going to look over those ideas of yours. let me see if i can write something.......xD
 

DarkDreams

Whispers in the dark...
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WHAT?! that's not the writing spirit! lol im teasing. if you won't write it then, i shall take the responsibility! *adopts commander pose* DD, im going to look over those ideas of yours. let me see if i can write something.......xD

XD

"She always took those roses so willingly. I mean, sure, it's nice being friends with your rivals, i'm friends with Gary. I'm happy like that, but sometimes I wonder if they're being too friendly! Soon there won't be any competition between them. She won't try her best anymore. I don't want her hard work going into beating him go down the drain. And then there are those weird feelings, I felt them when Misty betrayed me and went with my rivals instead of cheering me on. Good friend she is. But Drew isn't my rival. But it feels like he is"

lawl. A quick little sample of what i'm deciding to write. Of course, Ash is ranting, so i'm Ash. Ash isn't known to use big words XD Writing about Ash ranting is fun :D

Now for Max...

...

I'll think of something later >>

What ideas of mine? :S I didn't come up with any!

My ideas lol
 

Princess of Hoenn

blue skies and sunshine ♥
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What ideas of mine? :S I didn't come up with any!

oh no, i meant DarkDreams's ideas ^^ your ideas will probably be much better than any one I think of *points to Final Challenge :]

hey DD, what if you did a collab with me? together, we can blow the advanceshippers away with our writing! xD
 

DarkDreams

Whispers in the dark...
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oh no, i meant DarkDreams's ideas ^^ your ideas will probably be much better than any one I think of *points to Final Challenge :]

hey DD, what if you did a collab with me? together, we can blow the advanceshippers away with our writing! xD

Oooh. Ok, i'm in :D
 

Princess of Hoenn

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Oooh. Ok, i'm in :D

YAY! *dances around singing: I'm doing a collab with DD!* xD

anyway, im actually doing a small fanart of May and Ash getting married. lol, all these cute fanarts of their wedding day makes me want to draw one now :]
 

DarkDreams

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YAY! *dances around singing: I'm doing a collab with DD!* xD

anyway, im actually doing a small fanart of May and Ash getting married. lol, all these cute fanarts of their wedding day makes me want to draw one now :]

I know it'll be awesome XD
 

#Daisuke#

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What do you guys think of a fic about May returning with the cast for a couple of days and brings Brianna along. Brianna observes Ash and May's behavior around each other and figures that they like eachother. So with the help of Dawn, she comes up with a plan to get the two together before they leave. Also, Brianna does this so she can be with Drew LOL

So yeah Advance and slight one-sided Admiration.
 

DarkDreams

Whispers in the dark...
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What do you guys think of a fic about May returning with the cast for a couple of days and brings Brianna along. Brianna observes Ash and May's behavior around each other and figures that they like eachother. So with the help of Dawn, she comes up with a plan to get the two together before they leave. Also, Brianna does this so she can be with Drew LOL

So yeah Advance and slight one-sided Admiration.

I had the same idea a few weeks ago :O :banana::spin::banana::spin:
 

Every Breaking Wave

Religion is a club
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Not AdvanceShipping, but a bit from an original fiction that I've been working on very slowly for a very long period of time (several years in fact). Tell me what you think, AShippers?

The Minotaur’s ears flared at the sound of a cracking twig, though he made no other movement. Most would have assumed that it was the heat of the small fire he faced as it vaporized some small pocket of sap, but his keen hearing was able to detect that the cause was one of human carelessness, not of nature. He continued to gaze at the flames, making no indication that he had heard the noise. If it was an enemy – of which he had many – attempting to dispatch him he would rather that they not realize he had detected their presence. Though his hearing was keen his eyesight was poor, even in the brilliance of daytime, and to jerk his head upright would be to signal his own doom. For his own preservation, taught through the decades of solitude in the wild, he would make no move until he could be sure of the others position, and of their identity.

The grass rustled before him and a small figure, less than half his height, stood in front of him at the opposite end of the fire. She crouched down and reached out her arms, enjoying a brief moment of warmth before gazing up at him curiously. At this close distance even the Minotaur could recognize her; Erica, one of the newest recruits under General Mink and, so he had heard, a turned agent of the demon Koronfor.

He inclined his head a few inches so that he might see her more clearly. Her gaze was sharp and unflinching as they examined each other’s eyes; hers a brilliant shade of green that seemed to reflect the red glow of the fire, his own a murky fathomless black that absorbed the light. Despite her past the Minotaur sensed that here, in this moment at least, she posed no threat to him, and so he returned his glance to the fire with a grunt. She did not look away from him however and, after several moments of silence, he looked back at her exasperatedly.

“Why do you sit here by yourself?” Erica asked, forestalling his question. The Minotaur was so taken aback by the randomness of her query that the only reply he could formulate was a hesitant “what?”

“The others, the rest of the camp; they’ve set up over there on the forest edge,” Erica, said, indicating their direction with a sweep of her arm. The Minotaur’s gaze followed her, and even his weak eyes could make out the glimmering bonfire in the distance. “Why are you so far away from them? Aren’t you part of them?”

“I am Minotaur; they are human,” he grunted by way of response, looking away from the camp and back at his own meager fire.

“So?” Erica prompted, and he could not formulate an answer. “You’re still on their side, aren’t you? Wouldn’t it be safer for you to be nearer to them?” The Minotaur laughed, a guttural low that rang across the field.

“Safe?” he repeated. “Safe would be far from here; safe would be away from humans. They see me, they want to kill me. To them I am worse than Koronfor. To them, I am danger. Any nearer to the camp and I would die during the night.”

“Why?” Erica asked, and again his words failed him. She waited as he gazed blankly at the flames, and he soon realized that she would not be dissuaded from an answer.

“Show me arm,” he said at last and, though she looked surprised at the request, she got to her feet, pushed back her sleeve, and held her arm across the flames. The Minotaur studied her pale flesh curiously, eyeing the dark mark which still stood out on her skin. It was slowly fading as a result of the injection, but it would take several more days before it vanished completely; and even then she would bare a scar in its shape for the rest of her life. “You feel safe with them?” he grunted, looking away in indication that she could sit back down.

“I do,” she answered without hesitation as she slowly lowered herself back to the grass; “I have to.” The Minotaur laughed shortly.

“You are safe only because of the company you keep,” he said. “You are protected by Mink and Orion; the others, they do not trust you. They share the feelings of Ricardo and would rather slit your throat than share their shelter and food. We are both outcasts among your race; only you do not realize it.”

“Why do they hate you?” Erica asked quietly, and he paused a moment to gather his thoughts.

“They have old tales about Minotaur,” he grunted. “Always are they bad; to them, Minotaur are death. They believe we revel in war; that we scour the land, looking for enemies to slay so that we may eat their flesh and rape their women. I do not know if this is true; no Minotaur roamed these lands for centuries before me, but the tales endured. To them I am a monster, half-human half-animal, a curse upon their lands. The last twenty years I have spent hiding from their advances, living in solitude the only place where they do not care to venture, the heights of the mountains.” He looked her in the eyes.

“I was not a monster,” he said quietly, “but they have turned me into one. Twenty years of being hunted and flushed to the least habitable part of Legislan have done that. Their mistrust and their fables have made me the animal they believe me to be. You are human, and so your death would be seen as murder. Mine would be seen as sport, and I would be no more missed than the Shanljo they grilled for dinner.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Erica said softly, and the Minotaur looked at her in surprise.

“It does,” he said with finality. “Fear leads to strange conceptions. I never sought to hurt any human; when I washed up upon these shores I was near-dead with exhaustion. Villagers found me and instead of treating my wounds they added to them with spears. All I needed to survive was a flowing stream and a field of grass; but that has been denied to me all these years. I am an eater of grass, not of flesh. But they forced me to a place where the only sustenance I had was the occasional carrion.” He looked at Erica, his eyes betraying none of the hurt and sadness he felt.

“They believe me to a monster, and so that is what I am to them,” he said. “They never gave me a chance to be anything else.”

--

It was nearing dawn when Erica slipped silently back into the camp; to her relief, Marc, Erich, and Nigel were still sleeping soundly, unaware of her absence. She stepped among them carefully and was about to slip underneath the rough woven mat which served as her blanket when a low, deep voice forced her to halt.

“So, did you enjoy your midnight stroll?” She turned with dread and saw Orion standing behind her, his arms folded as he leaned against a tree, his scarred face obscured by shadow.

“I was, uh, I was wondering what that lone fire was and so I went to see, and it was…” she trailed off as Orion raised his hand and stepped forward so that he stood next to her, gazing out over the plains.

“Yes, a sad story is his,” he sighed, and she was relieved to see that he did not look angry.

“Why do so many people hate him?” Erica asked. “He tried to explain it to me, but I just didn’t understand.”

“I believe the stories began in your world with the tale of Theseus,” Orion said. “Do you recall it?”

“The bare essentials of it,” she said. “Theseus went into the labyrinth to rescue a woman and had to fight a Minotaur, which he killed.”

“The bare essentials indeed,” Orion agreed. “I once knew Theseus; he was a brave man, and my friend. Unfortunately his story has been blown out of proportion these last millennia, and the embellishments have been costly to many.”

“What embellishments?” Erica asked curiously. Orion gazed down at her and sighed, shaking his head sadly.

“You would do well not to ask too many questions about the way this world works, Erica,” he said. “The people of the Rebel Few do not trust you, and if you are seen associating with others whom they mistrust and asking questions about their history, it could end badly for you.” Erica gazed into the distance, her expression hard.

“I don’t have a choice, Orion,” she said eventually, and he detected the slight tremor in her voice which spoke of unshed sadness. “Marc, Nigel, Erich… what they want is to defeat Koronfor so they can leave this place and return to Earth; so they can continue on with their lives, as if all of this never happened. But I don’t have that choice. I died on Earth, and so even if I wanted to, I couldn’t go back. Purevil is my home now, and if I want to survive here I need to know about the land, the people, and their history.” She looked at him, and shining through her eyes he could see a wild look of desperation.

“You have to help me Orion; none of the others will speak to me, so you’re the only one who can.” She paused, taking a deep breath before uttering a final word: “Please.” Orion looked back at her a moment and then slowly nodded his head in agreement with her request.

“The Minotaur of the legend was a brute, it is true,” he said, returning his gaze to the distant glimmer in the field. “Minos’ greed and my father’s vengeance led to Pasiphaë giving birth to a being that was half-bull and half-man. Minotaur existed as a separate race in that time, and though this particular specimen resembled them he was not of their blood.

“The superficial resemblance led to his name, but the comparison was unfair. For one, he was larger than was typical of the Minotaur race, and though some could reach great heights – much like our friend in the field – the Minotaur of Crete towered some five feet above even the tallest of the true Minotaur. Also, unlike them he was not herbivorous by nature, but carnivorous. Whether that is because of the way he was born or the way he was raised – for Minos, considering him a beast, fed him only raw meat – I do not and never shall know.

“As time progressed and word of his existence spread, it came to be that people believed all Minotaur to be like him. Those who had contact with the true Minotaur knew that was nonsense and attempted to put a halt to the rumours; but only the word of the Gods would appease them, and the Gods never spoke on the matter. The propaganda spread to the far edges of Greece, and the peaceful Minotaur were butchered one by one until the only one left alive was the monster in the Labyrinth.

“Of course, the Minotaur killed on Earth were revived here on Purevil, their lives begun anew. But somehow, in a manner that I cannot explain, the malicious tales about them were carried through as well, stored in the memories of the people as they were reborn. And so the stories endured, and the people began to hunt Minotaur again. For their own preservation the Minotaur left these lands and sailed far across the sea, and they were not seen again until twenty years ago when one, delirious and injured, washed up on the shores of Legislan.”

Orion lapsed into silence and, giving her a brief nod to indicate that he had finished with her questions for the night, picked his way through the camp to check on the guard posts, leaving Erica to contemplate what he had said. She crept at last under her mat, feeling oddly disquieted; now she understood the reason why the Minotaur was so loathed by the rest of her race, but there was something odd about what she had been told, something that, between the two stories she had heard, just didn’t make sense.

It was only as her eyes grew heavy with sleep that she realized what it was; if the Minotaur was so universally loathed and mistreated, why had he agreed to fight on their side?
 

DarkDreams

Whispers in the dark...
Joined
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Not AdvanceShipping, but a bit from an original fiction that I've been working on very slowly for a very long period of time (several years in fact). Tell me what you think, AShippers?

The Minotaur’s ears flared at the sound of a cracking twig, though he made no other movement. Most would have assumed that it was the heat of the small fire he faced as it vaporized some small pocket of sap, but his keen hearing was able to detect that the cause was one of human carelessness, not of nature. He continued to gaze at the flames, making no indication that he had heard the noise. If it was an enemy – of which he had many – attempting to dispatch him he would rather that they not realize he had detected their presence. Though his hearing was keen his eyesight was poor, even in the brilliance of daytime, and to jerk his head upright would be to signal his own doom. For his own preservation, taught through the decades of solitude in the wild, he would make no move until he could be sure of the others position, and of their identity.

The grass rustled before him and a small figure, less than half his height, stood in front of him at the opposite end of the fire. She crouched down and reached out her arms, enjoying a brief moment of warmth before gazing up at him curiously. At this close distance even the Minotaur could recognize her; Erica, one of the newest recruits under General Mink and, so he had heard, a turned agent of the demon Koronfor.

He inclined his head a few inches so that he might see her more clearly. Her gaze was sharp and unflinching as they examined each other’s eyes; hers a brilliant shade of green that seemed to reflect the red glow of the fire, his own a murky fathomless black that absorbed the light. Despite her past the Minotaur sensed that here, in this moment at least, she posed no threat to him, and so he returned his glance to the fire with a grunt. She did not look away from him however and, after several moments of silence, he looked back at her exasperatedly.

“Why do you sit here by yourself?” Erica asked, forestalling his question. The Minotaur was so taken aback by the randomness of her query that the only reply he could formulate was a hesitant “what?”

“The others, the rest of the camp; they’ve set up over there on the forest edge,” Erica, said, indicating their direction with a sweep of her arm. The Minotaur’s gaze followed her, and even his weak eyes could make out the glimmering bonfire in the distance. “Why are you so far away from them? Aren’t you part of them?”

“I am Minotaur; they are human,” he grunted by way of response, looking away from the camp and back at his own meager fire.

“So?” Erica prompted, and he could not formulate an answer. “You’re still on their side, aren’t you? Wouldn’t it be safer for you to be nearer to them?” The Minotaur laughed, a guttural low that rang across the field.

“Safe?” he repeated. “Safe would be far from here; safe would be away from humans. They see me, they want to kill me. To them I am worse than Koronfor. To them, I am danger. Any nearer to the camp and I would die during the night.”

“Why?” Erica asked, and again his words failed him. She waited as he gazed blankly at the flames, and he soon realized that she would not be dissuaded from an answer.

“Show me arm,” he said at last and, though she looked surprised at the request, she got to her feet, pushed back her sleeve, and held her arm across the flames. The Minotaur studied her pale flesh curiously, eyeing the dark mark which still stood out on her skin. It was slowly fading as a result of the injection, but it would take several more days before it vanished completely; and even then she would bare a scar in its shape for the rest of her life. “You feel safe with them?” he grunted, looking away in indication that she could sit back down.

“I do,” she answered without hesitation as she slowly lowered herself back to the grass; “I have to.” The Minotaur laughed shortly.

“You are safe only because of the company you keep,” he said. “You are protected by Mink and Orion; the others, they do not trust you. They share the feelings of Ricardo and would rather slit your throat than share their shelter and food. We are both outcasts among your race; only you do not realize it.”

“Why do they hate you?” Erica asked quietly, and he paused a moment to gather his thoughts.

“They have old tales about Minotaur,” he grunted. “Always are they bad; to them, Minotaur are death. They believe we revel in war; that we scour the land, looking for enemies to slay so that we may eat their flesh and rape their women. I do not know if this is true; no Minotaur roamed these lands for centuries before me, but the tales endured. To them I am a monster, half-human half-animal, a curse upon their lands. The last twenty years I have spent hiding from their advances, living in solitude the only place where they do not care to venture, the heights of the mountains.” He looked her in the eyes.

“I was not a monster,” he said quietly, “but they have turned me into one. Twenty years of being hunted and flushed to the least habitable part of Legislan have done that. Their mistrust and their fables have made me the animal they believe me to be. You are human, and so your death would be seen as murder. Mine would be seen as sport, and I would be no more missed than the Shanljo they grilled for dinner.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Erica said softly, and the Minotaur looked at her in surprise.

“It does,” he said with finality. “Fear leads to strange conceptions. I never sought to hurt any human; when I washed up upon these shores I was near-dead with exhaustion. Villagers found me and instead of treating my wounds they added to them with spears. All I needed to survive was a flowing stream and a field of grass; but that has been denied to me all these years. I am an eater of grass, not of flesh. But they forced me to a place where the only sustenance I had was the occasional carrion.” He looked at Erica, his eyes betraying none of the hurt and sadness he felt.

“They believe me to a monster, and so that is what I am to them,” he said. “They never gave me a chance to be anything else.”

--

It was nearing dawn when Erica slipped silently back into the camp; to her relief, Marc, Erich, and Nigel were still sleeping soundly, unaware of her absence. She stepped among them carefully and was about to slip underneath the rough woven mat which served as her blanket when a low, deep voice forced her to halt.

“So, did you enjoy your midnight stroll?” She turned with dread and saw Orion standing behind her, his arms folded as he leaned against a tree, his scarred face obscured by shadow.

“I was, uh, I was wondering what that lone fire was and so I went to see, and it was…” she trailed off as Orion raised his hand and stepped forward so that he stood next to her, gazing out over the plains.

“Yes, a sad story is his,” he sighed, and she was relieved to see that he did not look angry.

“Why do so many people hate him?” Erica asked. “He tried to explain it to me, but I just didn’t understand.”

“I believe the stories began in your world with the tale of Theseus,” Orion said. “Do you recall it?”

“The bare essentials of it,” she said. “Theseus went into the labyrinth to rescue a woman and had to fight a Minotaur, which he killed.”

“The bare essentials indeed,” Orion agreed. “I once knew Theseus; he was a brave man, and my friend. Unfortunately his story has been blown out of proportion these last millennia, and the embellishments have been costly to many.”

“What embellishments?” Erica asked curiously. Orion gazed down at her and sighed, shaking his head sadly.

“You would do well not to ask too many questions about the way this world works, Erica,” he said. “The people of the Rebel Few do not trust you, and if you are seen associating with others whom they mistrust and asking questions about their history, it could end badly for you.” Erica gazed into the distance, her expression hard.

“I don’t have a choice, Orion,” she said eventually, and he detected the slight tremor in her voice which spoke of unshed sadness. “Marc, Nigel, Erich… what they want is to defeat Koronfor so they can leave this place and return to Earth; so they can continue on with their lives, as if all of this never happened. But I don’t have that choice. I died on Earth, and so even if I wanted to, I couldn’t go back. Purevil is my home now, and if I want to survive here I need to know about the land, the people, and their history.” She looked at him, and shining through her eyes he could see a wild look of desperation.

“You have to help me Orion; none of the others will speak to me, so you’re the only one who can.” She paused, taking a deep breath before uttering a final word: “Please.” Orion looked back at her a moment and then slowly nodded his head in agreement with her request.

“The Minotaur of the legend was a brute, it is true,” he said, returning his gaze to the distant glimmer in the field. “Minos’ greed and my father’s vengeance led to Pasiphaë giving birth to a being that was half-bull and half-man. Minotaur existed as a separate race in that time, and though this particular specimen resembled them he was not of their blood.

“The superficial resemblance led to his name, but the comparison was unfair. For one, he was larger than was typical of the Minotaur race, and though some could reach great heights – much like our friend in the field – the Minotaur of Crete towered some five feet above even the tallest of the true Minotaur. Also, unlike them he was not herbivorous by nature, but carnivorous. Whether that is because of the way he was born or the way he was raised – for Minos, considering him a beast, fed him only raw meat – I do not and never shall know.

“As time progressed and word of his existence spread, it came to be that people believed all Minotaur to be like him. Those who had contact with the true Minotaur knew that was nonsense and attempted to put a halt to the rumours; but only the word of the Gods would appease them, and the Gods never spoke on the matter. The propaganda spread to the far edges of Greece, and the peaceful Minotaur were butchered one by one until the only one left alive was the monster in the Labyrinth.

“Of course, the Minotaur killed on Earth were revived here on Purevil, their lives begun anew. But somehow, in a manner that I cannot explain, the malicious tales about them were carried through as well, stored in the memories of the people as they were reborn. And so the stories endured, and the people began to hunt Minotaur again. For their own preservation the Minotaur left these lands and sailed far across the sea, and they were not seen again until twenty years ago when one, delirious and injured, washed up on the shores of Legislan.”

Orion lapsed into silence and, giving her a brief nod to indicate that he had finished with her questions for the night, picked his way through the camp to check on the guard posts, leaving Erica to contemplate what he had said. She crept at last under her mat, feeling oddly disquieted; now she understood the reason why the Minotaur was so loathed by the rest of her race, but there was something odd about what she had been told, something that, between the two stories she had heard, just didn’t make sense.

It was only as her eyes grew heavy with sleep that she realized what it was; if the Minotaur was so universally loathed and mistreated, why had he agreed to fight on their side?

THAT GREEK LEGEND THINGO!!!

:thumbup::thumbup::thumbup::thumbup::thumbup:

5 thumbs out of 5. Love the question at the end, reminds me of a speech.... Though, would you be kind enough to tell me what kind of fiction this would be?
 

#Daisuke#

Pokemon & CoD Fan
Joined
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Messages
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I had the same idea a few weeks ago :O :banana::spin::banana::spin:

You had the same idea as in Brianna with a plan trying to get Ash and May together with Dawn's help and Brock being...well...Brock!?

Or as in you had the general idea of the story?


Anyway, matkin, it actually got pretty interesting but I didn't read the whole thing because its getting pretty late here and I'm getting kinda tired, sorry. Interesting though! ^ ^
 
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