Prologue: Closet Space
Prologue: Closet Space
“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” - Andre Gide
KNOCK.
I blinked, removing my headphones and glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen.
It was 1:30 A.M.
I sighed to myself and hung my cans on my computer screen while I wondered who would possibly be knocking that late at night.
I suppose it isn't that bad, I contemplated to myself, considering the wall of code hanging brazenly on my screen like the insurmountable walls of Troy. Ever since I had gotten home from work... hell, ever since I had gone into work the morning prior, the finicky thing, like it's allegorical reference, had refused to budge or even give the slightest hint of agreeing to do what I was attempting to program into it. Pushing my chair away from my computer desk, and stretching out my stiff joints, I ruminated about how this isn't the first time I've brought my work home with me, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Considering all the things that have happened since, the dramatic irony of that last thought are NOT lost upon me.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
KNOCK!
I paused with my hand on the doorknob of my bedroom/workden door. I slowly quirked my head, raising a perplexed eyebrow. You see, I live alone in a modest two bedroom, three bath, split-entry ranch style house in a nice, quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Rockville, Maryland. It's honestly way too large for me, and as a result, most of the other rooms are barely furnished; and I am not in the habit of throwing, as one might say, 'wild parties'. You, certainly, are now wondering why I brought any of that up.
The reason would be to impress upon you the rational as to why it is so abnormal for somebody to be knocking upon; rather than my front door, like any sensible person...
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
… my closet door.
Which was behind me.
Completely across the room from the bedroom door.
In which I had already established that I’d been in for hours, uninterrupted.
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!
Hokay then. It was indeed my closet door.
Scratching my cheek, with no small amount of trepidation, I approached my unassuming closet door. Inside I know that it's a walk-in closet, with a sloped ceiling, since it faces the front of the house, and it contains normal closet things. You know... shirts, a suit or two, a small bookcase, and several boxes that hadn't been unpacked since I moved in from my apartment about four years ago. Never did get to it. Regardless, knowing that the sloped wall is the roof on the reverse side, I briefly entertained the idea that perhaps some squirrels or even a raccoon had managed to find a way inside through some sort of structural damage. That would mean that the knocking wasn't anything other than a startled animal trying to get out of a dark, enclosed space.
Yes, that's logical enough, I told myself and pressed my ear to the door.
Nothing.
No random scrabbling of a feral animal.
No creepy heavy breathing of some sort of trespassing reprobate intending to violence all over me either.
Just... silence. Which, if I can be candidly honest, was much, MUCH more terrifying.
I backed away from the door, screwing my eyes closed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. I shook my head rapidly, as if trying to dispel cobwebs from my brain. I didn't feel fatigued and I felt my forehead, noted that I wasn't feverish either... but auditory hallucinations just don't appear from out of noKNOCK!
Letting loose a manly shri... sque... scre...
Okay fine, I shrieked like a little girl, voice cracking and all, happy now?
Anyway, with a shriek, I lept back from the door as if it had exploded, my pulse pounding in my ears as my heart tried it's damnedest to crawl up my throat and beat me soundly across the face. My eyes flew frantically around the room, looking for something to defend myself with. They settled upon my .38's case, and I was halfway through ripping it open before a calmer, more rational part of my brain (where it was hiding while I was panicking, I'll never figure out) suggested that blasting away with a revolver in an enclosed space after opening a door would most likely result in nothing more than property damage in addition to death.
Part of that thought caused my brain to grind to a screeching halt.
After opening a door.
Opening a door.
I took a steadying breath as the guncase rattled in my hands. Then another. Followed by a third for good measure. Because I realized at that point it's already a foregone conclusion. Despite how terrified I was at that precise moment, there was a part of me that had already damned me for everything that was to happen henceforth.
My curiosity.
With a nervous audible gulp, I toss the case onto my bed, and instead grab my bamboo shinai that was leaning against my dresser and approached the door again. With a few more calming breaths, during which the door, thankfully, decided to remain silent, I placed my hand upon the doorknob. Finally, screwing up the last of my courage, helped along by my burning curiosity, I raised my sword above my head, and yanked open the closet door.
This was not my closet.
I slowly lowered my weapon and blinked stupidly, my brain trying to process the non-interior interior of my closet.
The first thing my mind latched onto was that it was dark. As in absolutely dark, and I didn't mean because the light was off. I meant the light was conspicuously absent, along with my clothes, curios, walls, floor, and basic spacial dimensions that would normally occupy my closet. Dark as in an abyssal void, where even the photons (oh those crazy particle/wave packets of energy) that comprised the light from my bedroom lamp would travel on their merry way until they got to the doorjamb, promptly stop, say 'Eeeee'nope,' and go on a sabbatical to... wherever it is elemental particles go when they encounter a breakdown in spacial physics. Dark, as one would say, with a capital D.
With me so far?
Good.
Because it got worse.
The second thing I noticed was that, in spite of being a space that took both classical and modern physics and beat them soundly with non-compliance, it was occupied. The occupant in question was comprised solely of two faintly shimmering jade orbs marked by slit pupils set in a ill-defined form. Now I say 'ill-defined' not because it was hard to see. Quite the opposite, for despite there being a total absence of light within the space it filled right in front of my door, despite it's body being the exact same shade of oblivion as the surrounding non-existent space, and despite it somehow having an outline that was darker than absolute black, I could see it perfectly fine. No the part that really got my goat was that, in the face of all the impossibility that I couldn't even begin to comprehend sitting in front of me, it had the implicit gall to have an amorphous shifting form. It was like if you could somehow shine a flashlight on a lit candle, and see the shadow of the flame writhe and undulate on the wall.
A flat, flickering, 2D shadow (that still somehow managed to suggest it had depth) with glowing green eyes, cast against a backdrop of nihility.
I'm sorry, what was that?
That's impossible, and you want compensation for the aneurysm I just caused?
WELCOME TO MY WORLD!
Anyway, whilst I was standing there insensate, the... creature... drew back the raised appendage it was going to use to knock again with a rather cheerful 'ah'.
~I was beginning to think that you were not in this evening.~ echoed a rather polite voice from nowhere and everywhere.
“Uhhhh...” was my eloquent rejoinder.
The being hemmed into its limb before it set it back down on the ground(?), and some corner of my brain that hadn't been gobsmacked noted that there was a glowing white lemniscate symbol on the back of it's... paw(?).
~Yes. Yes, I believe you will do quite nicely indeed.~ the creature shrewdly narrowed its eyes and regarded me with a slight tilt to its head(?).
“Ahhh...”
The shadow organism blinked as my jaw continued to hang open, rendering any response I was making monosyllabic.
~Oh! Oh, my apologies, how dreadfully rude of me.~ it straightened somewhat, ~If I may, am I in the presence of one Mr. Jeremy Ni~*SLAM*
I stared at the closet door.
I stared at the closet doorknob gripped in my left hand.
I stared at the unused bamboo sword in my right.
I turned and stared at my bedroom at large.
I returned my attention to the closet door.
Brain? Status Report?
-Compiling Code-
...Compiling
…Compiling
...Compiling
...Compiling
*BZZZT*
-The Compiler has encountered a serious error in the runtime code-
(A)bort? (R)etry? (F)ail?
Thanks for nothing, Brain.
I wrenched the door open again.
Giant non-Euclidean space ripped directly from M.C. Escher's most minimalistic infinity wet dream?
Check.
Two-dimensional/three-dimensional shadow-creature blinking owlishly at me?
Check.
~Mr. Nim~*SLAM*
I turned and left the room with a veritable barrage of knocks following me into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door.
'How could I see it?' I pondered while I lit up a cancerstick, then strode out to the middle of the street.
'For that matter, how can it be both flat and have volume?'
I peered at my roof. Completely devoid of any signs of TARDIS like spacial quirks. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a normal roof, despite hearing the banging echoing out my open door as evidence to the contrary.
'Perhaps it's cel-shaded?'
I walked back inside and shut the door, momentarily forgetting my self-imposed rule of no smoking in the house.
What? It hurts resale value. Oh don't give me that look.
'Nah, that's just stupid.'
In my defense, I really don't have anything against cel-shaded games. I just hadn't worked on any before, and the idea of cel-shading in real life was simply preposterous.
I spent almost the entirety of the next half hour searching every room and square inch of my property for anything out of the ordinary, with the exception of the 800 pound gorilla in the room.
Well, if you want to get technical, the mathematically infinite hole of space-time in my closet.
Anyway, my net result was disappointment, a cubic ton of useless mental drivel, a nearly empty pack of American Spirits, and my house smelling like an ashtray. On the plus side, by this time my mind had also decided to run empty of denial, and was switching tanks back to confrontation.
Yay progress.
Reentering my room, I promptly marched back over to the banging door before my mind decided to shift gears into 'puss out'. The percussion by this time had gone from frantic to monotonous, my extra-dimensional house guest resigning himself to waiting. Why it didn't just open the door itself finally occurred to me, but shoving that aside for the moment, I politely rapped my knuckles against the wood to announce my return. With a deep calming sigh, and fixing a rather rictus smile on my lips, I once again opened the door and peered down at my guest.
~....~ for something lacking facial features, he gave me a most decidedly arch look.
“....,” my grin might have slipped a little.
~Are you quite finished Mr. Nimitz?~ he finally asked, narrowing one eye.
Oh hey there Denial! Where did you go, we missed you. You just stepped out for some popcorn? Well great! You're back just in time.
“I GAVE AT THE OFFICE!” I blurted out.
Wait, that's not right.
~What?~
“THESE ARE NOT THE DROIDS YOU ARE LOOKING FOR!”
Negative Ghostrider. The pattern is full.
~What?!~
“NO TICKET!” I screamed, my brain just tossing anything and everything to the head of the queue as it frantically tried to find my sanity in the face of non-reality.
~What!?!~
My mind just barely caught onto the fact that he had a British-esq accent, and with the firing of a million neurons snowballing into what would historically be recounted as the most random non-cliché greeting, I opened my mouth and delivered the coup de grâce.
“HELLO DAVID TENNANT!” I bellowed.
Game over, man! Game over! Humanities first contact with another sapient lifeform, and I choked. I choked worse than Bill Paxton.
My uninvited houseguest's eyes, by that time, had widened so far I was half afraid they were going to pop out of his head. He blinked rapidly, tilting his head one way, then the other, then his eyes vanished as he (I assumed) looked over his shoulder, as if he was expecting an answer for the awkwardness to present itself out of the æther. Finally the eyes whipped back around to regard me, one narrowed to a thin line.
~What is wrong with you?!~
Something about his question finally caused a crack in the dam of my mind.
“W-What is wrong with me?”
The eyes bobbed vertically in a terse affirmative.
“Whats wrong with ME?!”
~Did I stutte~ he began before I cut him off.
“What is wrong with YOU!” I yell, jabbing a finger at his face.
The cat-slit pupils comically crossed, trying to stare at the point of my finger, before returning to gaze at my furious face,~...Uhm.~
“First off, do you even realize what time it is?!”
~Well, I have a very limited window of~
“Secondly, why me? Couldn't you have gone and bothered the, oh I dunno, the goddamned president? I mean, why am I the candidate for first contact!?”
~The-the who? First con~
“And FINALLY, why, of all places, WHY are you trespassing in my CLOSET!?”
I huff and puff, trying to catch my breath after that outburst, as the shadow's eyes travel a circuit of the door's outline before meeting my gaze again.
~... I am in a closet?~
“YES!” I exploded.
The creature winced, ~I... I apologize. How incredibly rude of me. I can not manifest as the others do within your timeline, but at the very least I was trying to aim for your front door.~
I blinked at that, “Wait, the 'others'? What others? There are more of you here?”
The shadow's eyes shook horizontally, ~Oh, no. Not 'others' as in my species. I mean others as in the game's pa...trons...~ he trailed off as I raised an eyebrow, ~You have no idea as to what I am talking about, do you?~
I shook my head, the conversation conveniently distracting me from the thought that I had really lost my mind.
~I would have thought humans would be aware of this. I mean, hundreds of you have left to participate already. Does your governments not care?~
“Um. Sir?” I began as diplomatically as possible, “There are over 7 billion humans estimated worldwide. There are thousands of abductions in the United States alone yearly,” thinking to the lists of 'Have you seen me?' photos in the local post office, “and about as many claims that they were abducted by extraterrestrials. A fair percentage never get solved, so a few hundred people disappearing would be, well, par for the course I suppose.”
~You... you must be exaggerating.~ His eyes blinking rapidly.
I shook my head.
~I... Let me get this straight. Not only do you have no idea about the Game, but hundreds disappear daily,~ I nodded, ~to the extent that it is a common occurrence~ I nodded again, ~and nobody even cares?!~
I blinked at that, vaguely insulted, “Well of course people care. I'm certain their families miss them, or at the very least, annoyed because their tax-breaks vanish without any dependents,”I chuckle, trying to inject some levity with dark humor. It failed miserably since his eyes only widened in horror.
“A-anyway, yea, the government does care, I mean, kidnapping is illegal and everything, and nobody wants to pay a ransom. It would be nice if every case had a happy ending, but that's just how life is, you know?”
Apparently he didn't, as his eyes lowered to the floor, the pupils flickering back and forth as he digested what I told him.
~I knew the human world was... different... considering all the examples I had observed over the multiple timelines, but I never imagined it was so... depraved.~ an ethereal growl issued forth, his eyes narrowing to glare at the corner of the door, ~Thrice damn you to the scouring sands Discord. Only you would chose pieces sculpted from a world so indifferent.~
“Hey! We're not 'indifferent'. C'est la vie. Such is life. If we had a choice we obviously wo...” my eyes widened as my jaw dropped, “W-wait... did-did you just say... Discord?! As in, the draconequus, Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony Discord? That Discord!?”
In that tiny moment between him nodding and then focusing his attention on me again, I experienced a rush so intense that it eclipsed any feeling that preceded or followed since. He was talking about Discord. THE Discord. A character suffused with both wit and charisma, voiced by one of my favorite actors of all time, John de Lancie! Now, I can hear you saying, 'Wait, wait wait wait. You like My Little Pony, because of Discord's voice actor?' First off, that's because Discord is best pony (followed by Fluttershy). Second off, because fuck you.
In all seriousness though, I was a brony before Discord's appearance at the start of season two. I had actually gotten hooked by “Dragonshy” (Fluttershy was my best pony until Discord), after an offhand comment by one of my co-workers. After watching more episodes, and researching about it to find it was under the purview of animation big-listers like Lauren Faust, Amy Keating Rodgers, and Jayson Thiessen, whom had all contributed to entertaining shows that got me through my college days at M.I.T. (after Sci-Fi decided to drop their Saturday anime in the late nineties), it was a done deal. Seriously, if you haven't watched it before, I highly recommend it. It's a great show, with phenomenal depth to the characters, fantastic animation, gorgeous music (This Day Aria, 'nuff said), and simple 'feel-good' plots, that make it something I'm proud to watch with my niece and nephew in regards to whatever other crap is on nowadays without having to bring over my DVD's of Dexter's Laboratory or Kimba the White Lion.
But you must understand, when Discord showed up, it just exploded. We're talking about a team of videogame designers that had grown up on Star Trek: The Next Generation, Legend, and The Real Adventures of Johnny Quest. One of THE actors of science fiction voicing a character in a cartoon for little girls. Had we been able to get him to voice somebody in Skyrim, chances are the game would never have been finished, as we would be mobbing him every second of every day. John de Lancie just has that much power over us geeks. So yes, I do like Discord, and I'm proud to admit it.
It was around that point that I snapped back to reality, and realized that we had lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
“Umm, sorry. You were saying something about Discord?” I rubbed the back of my head embarrassed.
~No, I was not in actuality,~ he sighed, ~ but since he is the progenitor of the issue in question, I suppose he has everything to do with it. You see Mr. Nimitz, I have a proposition for y~*Priority One message from Starfleet coming in on a secure channel. Priority One message from Starfleet coming in on a secure channel. Priority One*
I glanced over at my cellphone, “Hold that thought,” I said and shut the door.
~W-WAIT! MR. NIMITZ! DO NOT SH~SLAM
Frantic pounding assaulted my door when I picked up my cell and answered.
“Yes, hello?”
'Jerry, you okay?'
“No, I'm...” I paused, thinking about how best to explain my predicament at the moment, and finally deciding to ignore it, “I'm fine. I'm all good, what's up Doug?”
My co-worker's voice was tinged with skepticism, 'Uhh, if you say so. I sent you a file with the updated engine commands. I was right, that Greg had forgotten to send them to you, but you never responded to the file transfer.'
A quick move of my mouse caused the computer screen to light back up, and finding an IM box blinking for my attention, I clicked the confirm button, “Yea, sorry bout that. I was distracted.”
I glanced at the clock. It flicked over to 2:01 A.M. “Thanks D. Listen, I gotta let you go now, but seriously, you saved my bacon.”
'No prob,' he laughed, 'Don't work too hard. I'll see you on Mon'*click*
Tossing my phone back onto my bed, I basically ran back to the closet door, only then noticing the absolute silence. Hopefully my guest wasn't too miffed.
“Sorry about that.” I said as I opened the door again, “One of my co-workers. You were say...ing?”
I stared at a beige carpeted floor, with a hanging rack of clothes less than three feet in front of me. With a surprising amount of dread, I reached in and tugged on the string for my closet light. The warm orange incandescence spilled across the compartment as I stuck my head in and peered to the right. There was my bookcase. There were my boxes. There was even a spider busily making a web in the top corner of the closet.
This was my closet.
I slowly withdrew my head, and shut the door again.
I pulled it open.
Still my closet.
I repeated this process a few more times, before I grunted and slammed it shut again with a certain finality. I glanced at my computer screen, with it's code, and the new file that promised my salvation from more wasted hours. I had lost all motivation to work. Feeling despondent, and somewhat cheated, I laid down on my bed, and stared at the ceiling. I don't remember how long I lay there, but eventually, sleep claimed me.
'Now Jeremy,' I can hear you saying, 'You said at the beginning that this would be the last time you brought your work home with you.'
Really. After all that, THAT'S the part you zero in on?
There's no pleasing you people, I swear.
Anyway, since it was Saturday then, I was technically telling the truth, since I didn't go into work. I mean, I did eventually, but that's besides the point, and we'll get to that.
Regardless, I woke up that day feeling refreshed, and raring to get back into the saddle with some troublesome code. Reminiscing about the events last night felt foolish in the light of day. I mean, seriously, who had ever heard of multidimensional creatures, talking about a cartoon character, appearing in someone's closet. That's just stupid, I had to have dreamed the whole thing up. Right?
I glanced at the closet door.
Right?
One housing inspection later, which could be summed up as him telling me that my closet was 'fine', and my wallet two-hundred and forty dollars lighter (seriously, for looking at a stupid closet?!), I got right back to work, feeling extremely ridiculous. The look on that inspector's face when I asked him if it was possible for a hole in physics to be in my closet had concluded it nicely in my mind. It was impossible, and I had hallucinated the whole damn thing. I repeated that thought over and over again, until it was firmly rooted in my head while I worked on the physics engine of the game.
The day passed in a great blur, and it wasn't until much later when I glanced at the clock at the corner of the screen that I thought about my closet again.
It was 1:29 A.M.
I thought to myself, how hilarious would it be if it started ag-
The clock flipped to 1:30.
KNOCK.
I blinked, and slowly turned with my elbow over the back of my chair to stare at the closet.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
I calmly saved my progress, popped my hot-swapped SATA harddrive from the jack, placed it in my briefcase, proceeded out the front door, locked it, and drove to the office.
For the next two months, this was my life.
The knocking on my door would start promptly at 1:30 in the morning, and I found out later, end exactly upon the stroke of 2 A.M. EST. In the beginning, I would leave my house, drive to the office, and become a veritable coding machine. To be frankly honest, some days I would sleep at work, not bothering to return home for days. I may in fact be indirectly responsible for Dawnguard being released earlier on the X-box. Sorry about that Sony faithful, my bad. Anywho, it got to the point that my boss, in no uncertain terms, told me to take a vacation, or get fired. It was then that I discovered that the interdimensional intrusions of my property weren’t constant. They in fact appeared to be dwindling, with the longest gap of activity being a week and a half(oh sweet blessed sleep, how I missed you).
This is not to say I was just working the entire time. Oh heavens no. I was also investigating my house, down to the brass tacks. I had inspectors, exorcists, scientists, and even paranormal investigators crawl over every square inch of my property(the closet in question thrice). The end result was that I apparently had the most normal house in all of Maryland, if not the planet. I think I was most insulted by the paranormal investigators who, while camped out during the week and half of no space-time hole in reality, not only forced me to sleep on my couch, but then had the audacity to claim that I was making things up. Even after I had shown them the results of the barrage of tests I had gone through myself, worried that one of my old injuries or some new malady had cropped up.
So to recap; normal house, I was fit as a fiddle (old injuries disregarded), and yet the knocking persisted.
I was forced to conclude that either I had a.) gone so far around the twist that I needed to get myself committed, or b.) I needed to man up, and see what my visitor wanted.
This brings us to today, where I decided to go with option B.
You see, I'm not normally a timid man. Past experiences had taught me all too well that more often than not, life was brutish, and easily quashed. One day, you were simply here, and the next was anyone's guess. But let's be honest here, an interdimensional void appearing in one's closet is as far out of one's comfort zone as somebody can possibly get.
However, as the days wore on, and I was faced with the fact that this simply wasn't going away, my apprehension slowly but surely morphed to mortification.
How would I feel, if while seeking help, I was rudely ignored. If instead of some creature from the beyond, I was a charity fundraiser, or a neighbor, or even some person who's car had broken down and simply needed to borrow a phone. Shouldn't I hear them out, even if I'm going to turn them down. Isn't that the humanly decent thing to do? The right thing to do?
'Son, this world is sorely lacking in decent people. It's sad, but it's true. But by Christ himself, you and I are Nimitz', and a Nimitz never leaves someone out to dry. I expect you to do better, you hear me?'
I chuckle as my dad's(God rest his soul) words echo through my head, standing before my closet door. I glance at my watch. It's 1:29 A.M.
“Fifty-six, Fifty-seven, Fifty-eight, Fifty-nine,” I count to myself, before I slowly open the door.
The void is back, and so is the creature, with his jade eyes and a raised appendage about to knock.
“Hello.” I say softly with a gentle nod.
He sets his limb down, and nods back, ~Mr. Nimitz. I am... glad to see you. And I am sorry.~
I blink, “What for? I should be the one apologizing.”
He shakes his head, ~Nay, I had not realized how... unusual my arrival was to humans. I was under the impression that such visitations were commonplace. Instead, while visiting the other candidates, I found out how mistaken I was.~
I give a crooked smile, “Oh? How did those go?”
The shadow snorts, ~Let us see. I had one woman talk my ears off for a straight half hour about how I was ruining her life and she demanded I pay for having her committed. Then there was the lawyer who insisted that I... how did he put it... 'Cease and desist impinging upon my boudoir, and have the common decency to leave the laws of physics unmolested or I will be forced to levy legal action against you Sir.' Then there was the last gentleman who simply asked me if I knew where all the rooms of his house kept on disappearing to.~
My guest grumbles to himself, ~I wasn't even aware that he originated from this timeline.~
I chuckle slightly, “So no luck, eh?”
He stares at me soulfully for a few moments, ~You, Mr. Nimitz are the only one that has opened the door more than once.~
I stare at him, hearing the edge of resignation coloring his words. I breath out a soft sigh.
“You said you had a proposition for me?”
~Indeed. You see, the Spirit of Chaos, Discord, has started a Game for his amusement. More often than not, humans just like you are asked if they would enjoy 'visiting Equestria' by either he, or another of the Patron Game Masters, where they are then ripped from this timeline, and deposited in the one in question, becoming the Pawns of his Game. As of the last count, several hundred humans had been removed from all over the continuum,~ he paused, tilting his head as if listening to something,~ and one... Cinder Quill? I hope I am pronouncing that correctly.~
I blink, and promptly shove the implication that Pokemon are real to another corner of my brain for the moment.
“How does this involve me, exactly?”
~Well, you see, I am The Watcher. My duties involve the observation and continued smooth operation of Time with all timeline continuities involved with the worlds containing the land you know as Equestria.~
“Wait. Continuities? Worlds? As in plural?”
~Quite. However, with the almost irresponsible ingress of humans to this one timeline in particular, it has become increasingly difficult for me to 'view' it clearly. If I cannot observe unobstructed, problems of a temporal nature could crop up, and this would lead to... 'complications.'~
“I'm guessing that complications are bad.”
He fixes me with a penetrating stare.
~Try 'apocalyptic'.~
I let that stew for a bit, before I gulp and nod for him to continue.
~This can easily be circumvented if I, ah, observed from a closer perspective. Unfortunately, with no idea just how long this Game of the Gods will last, my station impedes me from doing that for prolonged periods. However, a loophole exists. Should I submit my own Player to the game, I would be able to, in effect, use them as a focus. However, unlike the other Patrons, I would prefer to educate you on all the possible risks you would be exposing yourself to, and actually make it your informed choice. Should you decide against it, or at any time you wish to hear no more, you may leave, and I will never bother you again, Mr. Nimitz.~
I ponder that for a bit, before I finally nod, “Well, Mr. Watcher, at the very least, I believe I should hear you out.”
Despite being unable to see his face, I can almost feel the grateful smile beaming from it.
~Please. Step into my parlor.~
Returning the smile, I close my eyes, and I step across the threshold.
Author's Note: Thanks must be given to Retsamoreh and Proud Dust, who have uplifted this Prologue from mindless sludge to uninteresting drivel. (No, seriously, go enjoy their writing)
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891091 It is indeed. I find it funny that out of the five fics I'm working on, this one grabbed and demanded my attention the most to be submitted first.
Ah well, questions, comments, and critiques? Lemme have 'em, full blast people.
Edit: Oh, before I forget, I made a rather overt reference to another of my favorite fics. Kudos if you can guess which one it is.
I LOVE IT WOW!
Ah another one joins the game,
Jon: Welcome new target- I mean friend!
Gentlemen, let the games begin.
Wait, what kind of games? Chess, checkers, poker, what? I'm confuzzles.
This Isn't My House!
But okay, in all seriousness, I severely dislike most of the side-stories set to this particular multiverse, but that's because most of them are utter and complete crap. And when I said crap, I meant huge grammatical errors, plotholes, extremely predictable storylines, and in general just badly written, third-rate self-inserts. And while this story is another self-insert, it is thus far lacking all the other afore mentioned aspects of crappy fanfics, and it is enjoyable to read. Thus I have decided that this fanfic is indeed worthy not only of my thumbs, but also a Favorite, and my time. You may now proceed to kiss the soles of my hand made italian leather shoes to show your adoration and respect towards my great and powerful person.
Damn, I wish I had internet so I could put mine up... I guess I will continue read from my phone.
interesting, you have my attention,
During the First Encounter, I couldn't help but think at the Watcher, "...I think you broke his brain."
I find the idea of anyone having the audacity to even suggest trying to "levy legal action against" someone/something that has the power to convert a room with finite space into an area of infinite, inter-dimensional void/open up a portal to said infinite, inter-dimensional void in a doorway to be quite hilarious.
The Watcher's last words remind me of a certain saying involving a spider and a fly. I think that you can determine who is who.
I like this story so far, I think that it's really funny.
891897
Is it This isn't my House?
898773 You are correct good sir.
898470 As are you. Also, I wish it was a self-insert, because then I would be working at Bethesda Softworks XD. However, given your prior experiences with the AU at large, I am humbled you gave me a chance, and that you find it worth your time. I will indeed kiss the soles of your shoes, not only out of gratitude, but because Italian leather is delicious.
As for everyone else, thank you very much, I'm glad to have joined the game.
Um, ahem, hello. I'm Rets. If you're paying any attention, there should be a hilariously long post under what I'm writing right this very moment. If there isn't, either something has gone terribly wrong with fimfic or myself, or you're blind. If it's the latter, you have my sincere condolences.
So we go.
To introduce the concept of critique, I'm going to start with a nice little compliment before I start bludgeoning your story with my baseball bat. I could go on and on about how I really dislike the "Chess Game of the Gods" universe - because the concept is only okay and 90% of the stories related to it are garbage, but I'm not, so I'm just going to go out and say it. Your story is interesting, and it's okay. Now, it definitely has its problems, the same ones that a lot of the other stories seem to have ( beyond them not being very interesting and all ) and at times I wanted to quit reading, but overall, it's actually interesting. Instead of the usual "Some moron gets bippity boppity booped into Equestria to faff about and pretend they're important so the author can feel like his life is worth something..." ahem, erm, I digress. Instead of that, it feels a lot more like "Some moderately intelligent person gets bippity boppity booped into Equestria in order to control all of the faffing about that's been going on."
That's good. A change from the norm is always good. Now enough with the compliments, I need to save a few to build up your confidence before I tear it back down again. Mu ha ha!
The first problems are within the first few inches of my screen as soon as I load the story.
"KNOCK"
no pls.
Ahem. Well, "bolded sounds" interrupting stuff like that are okay... sometimes, I guess. I use them, but only sparingly. Also I would recommend putting periods at the end of lone ones like this. Otherwise it makes me want to stab my eyes out. People are used to seeing periods, so use them.
"I blinked, removing my headphones as I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen."
This isn't necessarily bad.... Yeah, it is, actually. Something a lot of authors don't know when they're wondering why their style never improves is because they get in the habit of using "as" a lot. "As" is a bad word, and you shouldn't use it. Like, just don't. It's okay for some circumstances but constantly using it only ruins something good. Try rewording your sentence every time you use "as". It's a bad habit to keep.
"It's was 1:30... A.M."
Ellipses shouldn't be in narrative unless it's vital to the emotion of the story. Yes, this counts for 1st person views where the Point of View character is the "verbal" narrator - which, in this case, he isn't, but I'll get back to that later. In short, REALLY try to limit your ellipses to dialogue, and even then only use it if the character has a verbal habit of trailing off or pausing a lot - and even THEN, try to limit it. Ellipses are sort of a taboo in writing. Use them too much, and you're picked on by all the big kids. It's like picking your nose in public, when you use it in narrative.
"'Who would be knocking at this hour?' I sighed to myself, as I hung my cans on my computer screen."
Okay, there are two problems with this! Yup! And now that I look at it, three! The most minor one is just a spacing issue between the apostrophe and the "I" but otherwise there aren'- Oh, wait, no. There it is. Another "as", and you even used it incorrectly. 3: Poor you. Typically, you shouldn't use "as" anyways, but you definitely shouldn't be using them after commas. It's just poor writing right there. The second is the use of italicized and then half-quoted "thoughts".
Here's another quote from the "thoughts":
"I ruminated about how this isn't the first time I've brought my work home with me, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
Considering all the things that have happened since, the dramatic irony of that last thought are NOT lost upon me."
Right then. When it comes to thoughts and thinking, you have to be careful. Since this is a first person fic, I recommend you have him thinking through the NARRATIVE, since this is supposedly a RETELLING of things already passed. No silly quotes, no "was thinking about how tasty the carpet looked", and please oh please don't use italicized monologues. Ever.
They are bad.
Also, unless something reality-breaking, and I do mean reality-breaking, you shouldn't allcaps+bold anything in the narrative. Your narrative is where the logic goes, so keep it that way.
"You, certainly, are now wondering why the fuck I brought any of that up."
It's sort of a personal preference of mine when it comes to the rather... hilariously stupid world of fanfiction writers, but having your main character, who is supposed to be a rational and completely legitimate human behind, constantly swearing through the narrative is really, really, REALLY bloody annoying. Seriously. Stop it. That goes to all your other stupid authors that think you're being creative by having a character curse through the narrative. Keep it for the dialogue or for actually really important scenes. As a reader who actually likes to enjoy stories, if you're going to have cursing, don't pepper the dialogue with it, have your characters actually say it. You want to know why, beyond the apparent "moralfag" reason that gets tossed around? It's degrading on the mind, that's why. If a reader gets used to you cursing through the narrative, what's the point? I believe to have someone curse it to make a powerful statement, and it means nothing if they're constantly cursing. So keep your curses as a tool and don't abuse them. Especially words like "fuck" and "shitbitchcuntcock" - use them for actually important scenes. They're only useless if you use them in a manner that makes them useless.
*Deep breath.
With that over with.
"The reason would be to impress upon you the rational as to why it is so abnormal for somebody to be knocking upon; rather than my front door, like any sensible person...
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
… my closet door."
This is the proper way to use ellipses in a 1st person narrative format. Good job.
"..Hooooookay then. Closet door it is."
1. Your ellipses was incorrect. Bad doggie.
2. You stretched out a word in the narrative. BAD doggie.
3. What tense is this in again? BAD. DOG.
... sorry for calling you a dog, but the point needed to be made. You have a problem with ellipses and, as I'm about to address, a problem with tense shifts.
I'm not even going to bother with an example of the tense shift, but I-
"Perhaps I should eventually get on doing that. Regardless, knowing that the sloped wall is the roof on the reverse side, I briefly entertained the idea that perhaps some squirrels or even a raccoon had managed to find a way inside through some sort of structural damage."
Theeeeeeeere it is. Yes, I am breaking my own rules in the grammar and construction of this critique, but this is a comment, not a fic... even if that's debatable. I've written reviews longer than the stories, before, but all is fair in love and ponies.
Anyways. Tense shifts seem to be a major problem in this particular story for the moment, and I say "for the moment" because I have no idea what you're doing. It sort of feels like the narrator is building up to the ending of the story, switching to present tense as soon as it began, but it constantly shifts in the story and it keeps distracting me. Choose a sodding tense already. Is your narrator from the end of the story, or is he narrating it as it happens? WHO BLOODY KNOWS AT THIS POINT?
Personally, since it's supposed to be an oral telling of his experience, I would just stick with past tense and do your best to stick with it. Unless you're doing a Pratchett or Douglas style narrative, and you're not in this story, you don't get random tense shifts, okay?
"Opening a door.
...
I take a steadying"
NO ELLIPSES IN THE NARRATIVE PLEASE.
"This was not my closet...
… I slowly lowered my weapon as I blinked stupidly, my brain trying to process the non-interior interior of my closet."
STOP IT.
"'Yes, that's logical enough,' I thought to myself as I pressed my ear to the door.
…
….
…..
Nothing.
No random scrabbling of a feral animal."
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
*Ahem
Right then. You have a serious addiction to ellipses and you need to stop. You're not just picking your nose in public anymore, you're reaching into the noses of random passer-by.
With your tongue.
" -Compiling Code-
...Compiling
…Compiling
...Compiling
...Compiling
*BZZZT*
-The Compiler has encountered a serious error in the runtime code-
(A)bort? (R)etry? (F)ail?"
I'm not sure if this was clever or outright stupid, but I'm inclined to vote the latter because I reread it several times in order to make sure I wasn't missing anything.
*Sigh.
Actually, when I look at all that I've written I'm wondering why I'm still here, actually bothering to critique your story instead of downvoting it and going on my merry way. Oh. Right. It's because it has an interesting idea behind it, despite the winged cat picture that makes me very very very very very wary about where you're taking this. It also has some very colorful and well-written descriptions like this:
" I suppose it isn't that bad, I contemplated to myself, considering the wall of code hanging brazenly on my screen like the insurmountable walls of Troy."
(This is also another example of your odd thought-process habits. Pick one, already!)
and
" Dark as in an abyssal void, where even the photons (oh those crazy particle/wave packets of energy) that comprised the light from my bedroom lamp would travel on their merry way until they got to the doorjamb, promptly stop, say 'Fuck THIS', and go on a sabbatical to... wherever it is elemental particles go when they encounter a breakdown in spacial fucking physics. Dark, as one would say, with a capital D."
(This is also an example of needless, ineffective cursing in the narrative.)
Those two are prime examples of the beginning of a natural ability to emulate Pratchett and Douglas, two of the greatest Fantasy and Science Fiction authors in history, respectively. I highly recommend you read the Discworld series and work to wind your narrative surrounding that, and I say Discworld because Discworld is fantasy and so is Equestria - and Equestria is pretty much like the Discworld, except with ponies. Other than that, your writing has a lot of promise and just needs a few stylistic nudges in the right direction. Pratchett has a really refreshing style and with the right tools, you can have your own following simply by people wanting something new and good. As a late note (me, currently being done with the review and looking over it for glaring errors) I also realized that the conversation with the Watcher was incredibly like Pratchett. Especially the lawyer part. That was hilarious.
Another thing is your characterization. First off, I'd like to say congratulations.
You have written the first Sane HiE. Ever. Well at least that I've seen.
He doesn't automatically go "weeee random adventure" - no, he logically slams the door of adventure, sits in his chair of a month, and when adventure keeps knocking he actually gets so annoyed at it that he goes and answered. Maybe it's just me comparing you to Pratchett and your character to Rincewind (a similar character from the Discworld series.) but I've always believed that the most entertaining characters are the protagonists that actually don't like being the protagonist. So getting an intelligent character who didn't rush into things instantly was pretty nice. Good job on that.
Also his freak out, screaming random references at the "first contact" moment was really well done, and I liked it. Bravo, I thought as I read it, I now officially like your character.
Let's hope that continues to be a thing.
And so we go back on the road of non-fic related things, where I'm going to skip the eloquent speech and get right to the dirty stuff.
Do you have an editor? Because this reeks of "I do not have an editor and am a new writer yaaay" and that isn't something you want to have. I highly recommend you find some sort of editor or even one or two prereaders. There are plenty of them floating around fimfic - even I'm one, and if you're that desperate I'll gladly offer my services simply because I want to see every stupid little author in the world blossom. I'm like Cheerilee. Except my cutie mark is smiling flowers that've been beaten with a baseball bat for two hours. But enough about me and my secret desire to edit for this story, there are plenty of better editors out there.
Also, on critique. Since you seem to be a new writer, you're going to need to be educated on this, because fimfic is a dangerous place for a new author. You want to know why? About 3% of the users actually give legitimate critique or even proper reviews. Maybe it's 5%, but it's definitely not above 10%, that's for sure. Overall, you are going to get a lot of "yay update" and "yay good chapter" stories, because fimfic's general populace is filled with shitheads. I'm a shithead, you're a shithead, and anyone sitting behind their computer screen chuckling to themselves and thinking "This is funny because everyone is a shithead but me" is doubly a shithead. With that out of the way, there is very few real opinions behind "goooood" and "baaaaaad" from the sheep on fimfic, and you need to prepare for that. By that, I mean don't let your ego inflate. Having a big ego spells your death on the internet, and that's the same for real life as well. Take it with a grain of salt when I say if you pay attention to the "yay" commenter, you have already lost. You can reply to them, sure, and you can laugh along with them, but don't take it to heart. Some comments might look like they're legitimate, but if they don't support factual evidence from the story, or if they outright ignore the flaws (and every story has flaws) then they're wrong.
Pay attention to them, but not too much attention. Otherwise you will feel really bad about yourself when some guy like me comes along and knocks you upside the head with a baseball bat.
I think there was something else I was planning to say, but it's 1:31AM and I've probably lost it in the hurricane that is my thoughts.
W/e.
In short, you've got a lot of flaws in this story, but the original idea and good characters are currently keeping me in, and you're showing the signs of a brilliant early writer. You just need a few nudges in the right direction, which can be commonly found with a good editor. So, capping it off at: 2,586 words,
the end
and in the spirit of fimfic, have a Twist.
I am obligated to track this now.
899149 I was wondering when I would see an actually effective critic on fimfic... and being the brony equivalent of Yahtzee is icing on the...cake.
899149 First off, Rets, let me say thank you. This critique is exactly the sort of response I was waiting for, and I'm honored you took the time to compose it. I also must disappoint you, because I'm not a new writer, I'm just a poor writer. The practical upshot however is that I'm already well aware of the over-inflated ego faux pas. I'm flattered with the Pratchett comparison (I have read several Discworld novels) though I must admit my inspiration was more along the lines of Piers Anthony. Though, considering how strange I found his later 'Incarnations of Immortality' and 'Xanth' novels, I'm not certain if that's a good thing.
Glad you enjoyed the main character's reaction, it had always bothered me that human characters would seem to universally 'go with the flow', rather than like any logical human being, question and act paranoid of anything and everything.
Also, I must apologize for the abuse of ellipses. They and I have long had an abusive sordid love affair, something I got into the bad habit of early on and never broke myself of. The 'as' part however, I hadn't even noticed until you pointed it out, and now I feel rather foolish after going through and almost expunging every example in its entirety. Honestly, thank you.
Tense shifts. Ah, my old nemesis. I know I'm especially weak on them, to the point that Cardslafter has abused me over the phone about them. Mostly about how it's completely unintentional. I can never really seem to get the hang of staying in one tense, but I will try to do better in the future. Thanks for calling attention to it, I had glossed right over it.
The ineffectual cursing was actually supposed to be intentional, on the assumption that within the current generations expletives have basically become adjectives in nature. People still emphasize them as if they are important, but in reality they have as much verbal impact as a ball of tissue paper. However, considering you referred to others cursing in the narrative like it was commonplace, it seems I have missed the point and blindly followed a trend. For the moment I'll let it stand as is though.
Edit: Nix that, I'm getting rid of it. You did make a very compelling argument.
That being said, I would like you to take what I write next very seriously.
You should stop reading this fic.
As you had already noted, this is a 'chess-verse' fic. It is therefore going to contain a majority of chess-verse tropes. The 'compiler' example is a running gag from the continuity. It will contain crossovers with characters from the other fics that you probably hate. It will follow the 'Human goes to equestria ---> Human gets new body ---> Human becomes plaything of the powers that be ---> Human experiences loss and angst ---> Human rises above his role in deific struggle' rail. It will fit so solidly into the median of Sturgeon's Law that pry-bars will be unable to extract it. Even with decent characterization, and an editor to straighten up the writing, I believe this will become something you will absolutely despise.
Of course, I could be absolutely wrong, and am being overly critical, but I would much prefer losing you now with a good, if flawed, impression and later have something with a more original premise worthy of your time, then to have you continue and become disenchanted. Anything less would be an insult of your intelligence.
In conclusion, I cannot put into writing eloquently enough how appreciative I am of the time and effort you took to critique my writing. Furthermore, I would like to thank you for the effort you put in as a critic for all of us writers. I feel good critics do not get the gratitude they richly deserve. I will take your recommendations to heart, and find myself an editor and some pre-readers immediately.
Also, thanks for the Twist.
Welcome aboard the Game, my friend, where lots of wacky adventures and bad shit go down. May this story reach the sky from how successful it is right now. To show my form of congratulations, I give you a fave, a like, and a FlutterYay.
Hundreds? Oh joyous. The Endgame is going to be insane.
899814 Why are people constantly comparing me to Yahtzee? I mean, just last week someone said I sort of almost felt like Yahtzee but fell short, and the week before that someone confused me with him. I didn't even know who he was until I started doing these. Oh well, from all of those videos he seems to be a pretty decent guy. We'd get along well, I think. ... Or terribly, now that I think harder. Oh well, thanks for "enjoying" the critique. Maybe I'll buy a mic and make youtube critiques in his style, instead of yammering on with walls of text. Actually, that's a good idea. I'll put that on my to-do list.
900029 A few things in response to your response to my comment:
A quick tip on ellipses, specifically the number of dots in them. When it comes down to it, the number of dots in an ellipses depends on if the thought is complete or not. Four dots for the "end" of a sentence, with the speaker trailing off, and three dots if it's an interrupt. Here's two examples.
"I like taters.... The weather sure is nice."
"I like... taters."
The four-dot rule is one that a lot of writers don't know, but it's an actual thing and needs to be spread about more.
Tense shifts can be really hard to work around when you're already in the habit of messing them up, but with enough effort and special attention to keeping it in one tense, it becomes like breathing.
Stopping the over-usage of "as" is also one of the hardest undertakings any "poor" writer can go through, and it DOES require a lot of attention and redoing, but in the end, same with the tense shifts, after enough work on it I'm sure it'll become second nature, and it'll improve your style on a whole.
As for the cursing, thanks for hearing me out on that. You are right when you say that modern society tends to use curse-words as regular adjectives, but the problem is actually making it seem like your character is doing that. Saying "fuck" and "assbitchcuntcock" only a few times, like in this story, just makes it regular ineffectual cursing that kind of makes me scratch my head. Having him say "fuck" every other paragraph might have the effect you want, but it'll also drive away readers who don't want that kind of thing. In the end, it's up to you - I just happened to be raised in an old-timey household where you got in trouble for saying "shut up".
And for the record, I am kind of in the in-between of "should I continue reading this or not?" because of those very reasons, but I don't normally stop reading stories once I've added them to my favorite list. There are a few, sure, and they were all HiE stories... and all Chess Game of the Gods stories... and all... uh. Hm. Right then, I'll just stop reading this, but I'm definitely going to zip back every once in a while to check up on you.
You'll never be safe.
And, lastly, good luck with finding an editor. I recommend getting as many as you can, because I can confirm that most likely one or two will end up dropping, be absolute crap, or be completely disagreeable people and eventually stack you in the back and steal your money. Beyond that, it's a good idea to have as many fresh eyes as possible to get as many varied opinions as possible. One person might like the wording of something like another won't, and such.
And I was mostly kidding about the backstabbing. Mostly.
- the end, pt 2
899738 yessssssss........
Holy Jesus this sounds amazing
Go on...
So Narnia does exist!!!!!
That is all...
-Jorofrarie
Oh Shit this one is well written.
Remy, you beautiful bastard, this is brilliant.
BTW, its DK
Were the hell is the next chapter
dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/sillyfilly_Fluttershy.png
Always five downvotes. Wonder who they are?
Welcome to my favorites section. What can I get for you?
Snacks? Drinks? Smokes? A like?
Would you look at that! A patron thats nice! thats rare
Pawn: WHY THE **** AM I A TROLL?