These are JX Valentine's nominations and comments for the 2015 awards. See all nominations here.
There's something slow and pensive about this fic, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. In The Yellow Sun, all you have is a bunch of kids on a New York subway contemplating their future. No action, no door into their inner minds, nothing like that. You're an observer for this fairly ordinary event, but the story captures that feeling of being an observer excellently. You feel like you're right there, sitting just a few seats down from these kids as you people watch, eavesdrop, whatever you'd like to call it. It is, when you get right down to it, a celebration of those quiet, everyday moments—the kind of thing that actually does capture the ordinary-is-extraordinary spirit of New York itself.
Ah, Bakura. Having left the fandom ages ago, I'd forgotten about how terrifying Bakura is, but this fic reminded me. He's the kind of character who seems gentle and friendly but just a little bit off, but then you're introduced to his murderous alter-ego. And similarly, you have that going on throughout this fic, with the well-meaning protagonist Megumi falling for it every step of the way. But what makes this fic interesting is that it uses Bakura's literally dual nature to create one of the creepiest scenes written this year. It's unsettling in a way because everything he does here is true to canon, but what he ends up doing and how Megumi reacts to it is, in short, a fantastic nightmare.
There is no part of this fic that isn't unique. I mean, who else but Cutlerine would think to do a fic that: 1) was a weird Western with steampunk elements, 2) featured everything from djinn to a deep and vaguely Native American race of Kadabra, 3) used a Zork-like format and the cleverness of its own readers to drive the story forward and give it layers of depth a non-interactive story doesn't have by definition, and 4) pulled all of this off? No one, period. A Leash of Foxes is a fanfic experience unlike anything else that's happened on this forum, and months later, no one else has tried to do what Foxes did.
Foxes' Orre is practically a character in itself, with its multiple cultures, its ancient mythology, and all of the complications of its politics. Sure, the majority of this Orre in action happened in content published in 2014, but even the 2015 content gives you a glimpse of this fantastical version of the bleak and desolate desert we all know and love.
The fic itself, from start to finish, embodies N and (technically Hilda but also technically nameless) his lover in a physical way. It's brief, but it's passionate. You can tell that their relationship isn't necessarily long-term, but there's fire in it, a kind of poetry sparks and ignites whenever one touches the other. All that matters for them is this moment, not their past or their future but instead whether or not they take pleasure in physical contact (which they do—they really do).
It's a romance that lasts a chapter, but it's a romance that literally sets the stage for the rest of the fic. It's a whirlwind, action-packed adventure with fantastic elements, starring a pirate and a sword-wielding library guide (which, to be fair, given that this is a Cutlerine fic, is the least unusual part about this) with tons of implied fireworks and heavy doses of banter on Siobhan's part. The pairing leaves a lot to the imagination, in other words, while still being human and funny enough to be compelling. And besides, who can say no to any relationship that starts with a sword battle and ends with babymaking in the stacks?
Although Hilbert isn't frequently around to interact with his mother, it's clear that the strongest element of this fic is still their relationship. Everything hinges on that mother-son bond, with Hilbert's mother waiting and worrying and doing everything she can to keep herself calm and reassure herself that her child will be back. That makes the ending all the more heartbreaking, as there's nothing that a good parent fears more than attending their child's funeral, and you feel that so much in the final paragraphs of this story.
Sometimes, the best way to portray a bond is briefly, with actions and little speaking, rather than lengthy declarations of dedication. In this case, what's remarkable about Caitlin and Meowstic is what the latter means to the former. With just one line of dialogue, Meowstic doesn't just calm Caitlin's frustration and rage; she also teaches her something important. It's clear that Meowstic is vital as a companion to Caitlin. She is her trainer's grounder, a mentor, and a companion beautifully in-tune with her emotions.
It's that last moment that gets you. Throughout this fic, you're forced to watch and wait right along with Hilbert's mom, and you hope right along with her that everything is going to be okay. But then you're treated to a full, relentless description of why he didn't, and you can't help but feel the same kind of pain Hilbert's mother endures.
Sometimes, a villain is not an antagonist. Sometimes, a villain is simply someone who goes above and beyond to do harm to the characters around them. Throughout The Master's Trick, we're treated to the conflict between May and the Trick Master. We see the latter build increasingly elaborate puzzles, partly in response to May's confidence and partly out of his own passion, but it's May's confidence that pushes him into the final scene, in which he takes a page out of Cyrus's book to build a new, almost Lovecraftian world. Sure, throughout the fic, we're encouraged to sympathize for the Trick Master, and indeed, the fic is a great character study of him. But on the other hand, what kind of person builds a portal to a world where he's a god and proceeds to ensnare the plucky young game protag forever? Let's face it: the Trick Master basically succeeded where quite a few anime villains have failed. And he's the one we're supposed to like.
(As a side note, I'm well aware of the twist ending about DeLeo, but this doesn't come until the final chapter. For all intents and purposes otherwise, DeLeo is probably best classified as this until the very end, but if he technically doesn't count, feel free to move this to a more appropriate category.) In any case, one of my favorite types of villains is the one with an agenda. As in, these are the villains who don't realize they're villains at all, the kinds of self-righteous folks who aren't in it just to rule the world or destroy it and remake it in their image or for kicks and giggles. These are the ones who go after a less over-the-top goal and do so because they genuinely think what they're doing is morally right. DeLeo is one of these villains. If you ask him, he's a good guy. I mean, he founded the Hope Institute to help and everything, right? But on the other hand, the absolute horrors that ensue throughout this fic, horrors that involve turning the fic's resident cinnamon roll into an unstoppable murder machine (which is to say, horrors that involve the entire plot and everything in it), are entirely his fault. And he knows this, but it's totally, 100% okay because it was totes for a good cause. In short, DeLeo has issues, and not only does he have issues, but those issues kinda make him 1) hella complicated and 2) the heartbeat of this fic.
The six kings have only gotten more terrifying after the end of Shatterpoint's prequel, Requiem. I mean, we've already seen them taking over an already unstable antagonist's body, and we've already been treated to the superhuman feats they were capable of. What could they do now? Rally the legendaries to their side and level an entire region. Like, literally. Level an entire region. And oh yeah, they've also subjugated the rest of the world and fed dissenters to ravenous houndour on national TV. And yes, I'm well aware that that last one sounds a lot like jaywalking in comparison to their other highly calculated murder sprees. Point is, the six kings are terrifying. They were in Requiem, and they sure as eff are now.
Come on, boy, he reminded himself, just like you practised. You got yourself this far. <…H-hello?> he growled faintly while stepping forwards. Not much of a response, the Nidorina simply shifted her ears a couple of times, probably checking for the same sounds he was, and then simply leaned on the weird tree, her chest moving slightly with her breathing. The male was not to give up though, he was young and confident in his top-percentageness. <I'm Baluarkos and I'm very healthy!> he growled, louder this time. He moved in a couple of steps and presented his flank, turned around a couple of times to show he was (just a bit!) confident with his surroundings. <I beat that blue… wall… thing!>
When in doubt, announce to your crush that you're very healthy. This is a 100% guaranteed way to get your senpai to notice you. Extra points if you do so before and/or after slamming into a wall … thing. Yes.
“Hand in your homework,” the teacher announced. She involuntarily shuddered upon glimpsing Jason’s attempt.“What,” she said slowly, “is that?”“Bubbler made it!” He grinned at her and held out the splat of salt-smelling ink upon the unfortunate paper. The other children clutched their noses as Bubbler – the small Horsea Jason kept in the fishbowl on his desk – honked happily. “This… You were meant to make the art piece, not your Pokémon.”“We made it together,” Jason said firmly. “Alright,” she grumbled, defeated. Bubbler shot a playful spray of water at her, electing laughter from the class. She hated children.
Me too, teacher. Me too.On a serious note, bobandbill's drabbles in general do a wonderful job at capturing the humor, gravity, contemplation, or what-have-you of a scene in a short amount of words, but this is by far the best attempt to capture humor. It's ridiculous while still being real in a way. As in, absolutely, the kid had the horsea draw, and that's hilarious in itself, but so is the utter exasperation that this teacher is dripping with. You can feel how 100% done she is with this kid, and it's amazing.
On the outside, the house was starting to show signs of decay. There were holes in the roof and walls, and the garden was withering. But inside, the damage was even worse than before. Something had started to eat away at the wood, exposing plaster behind the wallpaper and turning bookshelves into sagging, melted mounds. I saw to my sickening shock that the doorway had swollen to twice its former size, revealing a dark, hazy void beyond it. The rubble on the floor lay in streaks that radiated away from the blast point.I steeled myself and crossed over to the doorway.“Hello? Is anybody there?”My voice sailed off into silence.“Trick Master?”Nothing.I kept going, hearing the floorboards creak beneath my feet. The farther I went, the more they sagged under my weight, like a rubber diving board. I reach the point where the hallway should have ended, but instead of a room, what I saw was empty space. The Trick House simply ceased, and beyond it was a dark, boundless void, which was shrouded in purple clouds that swirled in slow loops. I covered my face and pressed on, till the edge of my foot dipped into empty air. I realized I had reached the end. I stood there for a moment, peering into the haze, not knowing what to do. Then, by some vague, final intuition, I gave a cry: “Trick Master is my life!”Suddenly, the clouds pulsed with lightning. Mist drifted from the nimbuses and coalesced into a large shape in front of me, which materialized moments later into an image of my friend. His colors had faded to gray and his eyes were glowing white. “YOU HAVE SURVIVED COUNTLESS TESTS AND TRIALS!” he boomed. “YOU HAVE SURPASSED THE GREATS AND CONQUERED THE LEGENDS! BUT I SEE YOUR MIND, CHALLENGER, AND THE TRUTH BEHIND THE FACE THAT CONCEALS IT.”Images flashed before my eyes, like the changing channels of a television. Small brown houses. The lab of a Pokémon Professor.“ALL THAT YOU HAVE DONE WAS BUT A GAME YOU PLAYED WHILE YOU SOUGHT YOUR DESTINY.” My gaze skimmed over a large city, where people and pokémon stood frozen on the streets.“EVERYWHERE YOU WENT YOU MADE BUT THE MARK OF A VISITOR. AS SUCH, YOUR VICTORIES WERE SHALLOW AND TEMPORARY.”I saw a collection of islands in the middle of a stormy sea. The sky was churning with clouds, and flashes of lightning illuminated the water. Rain began to fall. “NOW THE ENEMIES YOU BURIED BENEATH YOU ARE STIRRING FROM THEIR SLUMBER. THEY ARE MOVING THE EARTH ABOVE THEM. THEY ARE CRYING OUT FROM THE REALM OF THEIR IMPRISONMENT AND THEIR VOICES ARE CALLING YOUR NAME—”I saw the inside of a cave, with a tall domed ceiling and dozens of tiny rocks scattered about the floor. There was a lake of pure blue water up ahead. Light was shining from a skylight above it, illuminating an empty spot in front of the bank.“YOUR TASK IS TO REPEAT THE CHALLENGE YOU CONCLUDED. YOUR FACE WILL BE ONE AMONG THE MILLIONS YOU’VE FORGOTTEN. AND IN EVERY QUEST YOU ENCOUNTER, EVERY BATTLE THAT CONFRONTS YOU, THERE WILL BE ONE HAND THAT PULLS THE STRINGS — FOR I AM OMNIPRESENT. I AM THE MIND OF THIS REALM THAT DRIVES THE WORKINGS OF ITS SUBSTANCE. I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA, THE GUIDE AND THE FOE, THE BEGINNING AND END — I AM THE MASTER!”The scene ended, and the Trick Master’s apparition vanished as the snout of a huge green dragon broke through the smoke. Rayquaza opened its jaws and lunged forward to swallow me whole. I screamed and ran away as fast as I could, hearing the huge serpentine dragon thrash and rage as it chased me down. My hands fumbled in my backpack and locked on the ear of a PokéDoll, and when I reached the door, I turned and flung it as far as I could. The stuffed Clefairy sailed through the air and landed in the dragon’s gaping red throat. A second later, a cage of glittering teeth slammed over it, and Rayquaza pulled back into the darkness.As for me, I ran for my life.
When Hilbert came home, she cried.She cried when the police called her, telling her that they had found him in Geosenge with a broken Xtransciever. She waited in the Mistralton Airport for his flight, and when he arrived after twenty-four hours of waiting, she cried while giving him a welcome she had been bottling up for twenty-four months.She cried when Cheren hugged him tightly, fulfilling a promise he made twenty-one months ago. She cried when Bianca had released his Pokémon one by one, for he wasn't planning on going on any other journey soon. She cried when Serperior gave her a hug with his slippery body, and she tried her best to replicate the hugs his original trainer had given him.She cried when they took a walk to the Dreamyard, like what they used to do when he was still five years old. She cried when he watched him go through the piles of leaves in Route 1, just like what he did six autumns ago. She cried when she gave him a kiss at the end of the walk, something she hadn't given him in two years.And when everyone had left after his funeral ended, she cried some more.
“On behalf of the captain, I am relaying the order to abandon ship!” a woman close to my group shouted. Her uniform bore nearly as many stripes as the captain’s and I figured she had to be one of his higher-ranking officers. “The lifeboats are gone so the only way off is to jump overboard! If you have Pokémon large enough to ride that can either fly or swim, release them now! And even small water Pokémon should be able to assist both you and others while in the sea!”At these words, countless Pokémon trainers pulled out Pokéballs, and flashes of white light filled the air around the outermost edge of the deck. The crowd started to thin as the trainers with the flying-types didn’t hesitate to jump onto their rides’ backs and take off, flying in low circles around the ship. That just left the rest of us. Sure we were already soaked to the bone and being in the sea wasn’t gonna be much different, but the waters below us were only growing more violent by the minute. And I didn’t have any water Pokémon.Finally, a scattering of trainers throughout the crowd worked up the courage to climb up onto the railing and jump off. I heard a couple others gasp at first, but the effect was obvious—after the first few went ahead with it, everyone else was given the confidence to make the plunge as well. The group had to stagger the rounds of jumping so no one landed on each other, but it wasn’t long before it was my turn.I couldn’t hesitate. Taking too long would only hold up the rest of the evacuation. I grasped the edge of the railing and used my arms to swing the lower half of my body over. Then there was nothing left to do but close my eyes, grit my teeth, and push myself over the edge.Falling! Even after all that I still wasn’t ready for the falling. It was only a few seconds, but it seemed to drag on forever and what was hitting the water going to be like, was it going to—The sudden impact stopped all my thoughts cold, as every inch of exposed skin was tingling like fire from smacking against the water. I thrashed my arms instinctively, trying to get my bearings. I was still underwater—this wasn’t good, I had to surface! I opened my eyes and realized that the surface was right above me before paddling as hard as I could to reach it.My head burst out of the water and I immediately found myself gasping and sputtering for air. The water wasn’t freezing, but was still cold enough that the tingling in my limbs didn’t want to go away. I flailed about, trying to get my bearings and figure out what was going on with everyone else. I only vaguely noticed that my legs were no longer able to move—it was just my arms doing all the work now. Most of the passengers had grouped together around the trainers who had water Pokémon. From what I could tell, no more figures were making the plunge from the S.S. Anne’s upper deck, which had to mean that everyone who was able to had made it off by now. Now we just had to make it through the storm. But the rain kept pouring down in violent sheets and the rush of seawater refused to quit tossing us around. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep the salty water from finding its way into my mouth, and it was staring to seem like I was spending more time choking and spitting out water than making progress.A sudden flash of light not too far from me caught my attention. One of the last trainers to jump overboard had just released a massive blue serpent from its ball. The Gyarados let out a roar before leaning its head down, allowing her to climb aboard. Already many of the nearby passengers were following her lead and climbing up the serpent’s thick, armor-like scales.I wasn’t that far away. If I could just make it to her, I wouldn’t have to brave the storm by myself. I had to make it over there.Before I could do anything my head was forced under the surface and the air knocked out of my lungs. I blinked frantically in the darkness, still reeling from the shock and trying to figure out what had just happened. Which way was up? Why couldn’t I tell anymore?!I burst free of the water just in time to make me wish it hadn’t. An enormous wave had swept in out of nowhere, now looming over me. I stared blankly, feeling my limbs turn to ice and refuse to move. Even if I’d had time, I couldn’t react—what on earth was I supposed to do? There wasn’t any way to avoid something like that!A rush of water and the spray of salt and tumbling and disorientation and a burning pain now tearing its way through my lungs were the only things I knew. I couldn’t even tell how far under it had pushed me—direction wasn’t even a thing anymore. I’d been flipped and tossed and my entire body felt like a ragdoll now. Where was I? My surroundings were an endless expanse of water and darkness. Even if there was anything to see, my eyes burned too much from the salt.I suddenly remembered that my lungs were on fire—it was a weird contrast to how detached the rest of my body felt. My legs wouldn’t even move—it was almost like they weren’t even there. Were they there? I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see anything.Somewhere in the back of my head a voice screamed to get a grip but there wasn’t anything to get a grip on? Nothing was around me. Nothing except…A humongous dark mass swept under me. Everything was dark, but this thing was dark enough to stand out…how? It slowly turned in my direction, and I caught sight of a pair of glowing blue eyes before it turned and dove further below me.Wait…below me! It had to be below me, right? I had no idea if that made sense, but I knew that it was below me, I just knew. Without even thinking, my arms were pushing me in the opposite direction—upward.Finally I broke free! My face hit the air and it had never felt as amazing as right at that moment. It didn’t last long—I was immediately overwhelmed by a round of coughing and sputtered as my worn-out lungs tried to expel all of the saltwater I’d breathed in. Each breath sent another wave of fire running through my chest, but it wasn’t a pain I minded.And then I realized that it was too easy. I was just floating here breathing, and my head wasn’t being forced under the water every five seconds. The sheer relief of being on the surface had been so overwhelming that it took me several seconds for the full effect of my surroundings to sink in.It was gone. The waves, the wind, the rain…everything was gone. The cloud cover churned lazily above us, giving no indication of the raging storm that had just vanished. Calm skies and waters now made it easy to notice that the S.S. Anne was tilted backward at a harsh angle and beginning to slip down into the sea’s murky depths. I was very near to the Gyarados now, so my main priority became drifting vaguely in that direction using as little effort as possible. Six or seven passengers were crowded onto the front half of its body, but there was room for me to grab hold of one of the fins on its lower half. Just as my brain was trying to process if I should ask anyone what had happened, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned to the right and stared blankly at the sight, now even more confused. A squad of rescue boats was speeding toward us as though nothing had ever happened.
What better way to come back from a hiatus than to nearly kill your protagonist via ship sinking? One of the things that really intrigued me the most about this particular scene, though, is the fact that it made me realize something. All too often in Pokémon fics, when one thinks about action, they think about battles of one kind or another, but action could mean a whole lot of other things. It could refer simply to a scene where there's a high-energy struggle to survive, a fight between a character and nature wherein not a single attack is fired. And that's really what this scene is about. It's not a battle. Two characters aren't going at it with each other. It's just Jade and the desperate fight to survive the sinking of the S.S. Anne. Every second, from the moment the call to abandon ship is made (or, really, even from the moment the chapter starts) right up to the end of the scene, Jade is fighting, and you're on the edge of your seat, watching her claw her way through open water to that Gyarados.
And as the battle raged all around him, the startled pirates wondering whether or not they'd have been better off taking their chances with the barbaracle, my father ducked behind the issue desk to dodge a bullet and found himself face to sword with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.Since my mother did not immediately run him through, I can only imagine she felt something similar.My father leapt to his feet and aimed his sword at her breast. She parried with hers, and shot his hood off. He feinted to her left and struck the pistol from her hand with a well-aimed throw of a nearby date stamp.“You're very good,” my mother said, with a grin that made my father's blood roar in his veins louder than the ventilation.“I'm very angry,” my father replied, although he too was smiling now.He thrust and slashed and drove her out from behind the counter and into the Military History section; she collapsed a bookshelf and forced him down the aisle into the Biographies. He tripped her on a loose floor panel he knew of, and pushed her into Literary Fiction. She, regaining the advantage with a clever feint, sent him back through Biographies and into Handicrafts.“If you wanted to be shown around the library, you should have asked,” said my father, who was twenty-four and cocksure with love and suppressed energy. “I work here.”“Why would I do that?” asked my mother. “All the shelves are empty.”That reminded him of the banality of his daily existence, and my father renewed his offensive with such ferocity that my mother was driven into Philosophy.“Not bad,” she said, giving him that grin again. From there, the fight moved into Epic Verse, and then to Love Lyric; my mother raised an eyebrow, and asked if my father was trying to tell her something. In answer, he drove her towards Thrillers & Adventure, and she replied with a ringing blow of her sword that temporarily disarmed him and saw him dive headlong into Erotic Fiction for his weapon. She waited for him to get back to his feet, and once he had the two of them sword-fought their way into the Head Librarian's office, and locked the door.It was not what you might call a conventional courtship.
Otherwise known as "that one scene that made me nominate a one-off romance for Best Romantic Relationship." But more than that, this scene really encapsulates everything I love about Cutlerine's writing. You're not treated to the full details of what's going on. It's not this highly visual battle where you get to see literal sparks flying off these blades. What it IS is this fast-paced battle-and-banter, a well-choreographed piece with the right combination of wit and G-rated violence to give you a full idea of who these characters are, what they're about, and why it's hilarious that they're using the Head Librarian's office to make Avice, all in one go. Like a lot of Cutlerine's scenes, it's got this almost mythic aspect of it, where it's definitely a story told to you, but at the same time, there's just so much energy throughout this work that it's amazing.
It instructed the people to block off the final entrance. When they finished filling the tomb, it summoned up strength to seal it. Mere rocks would not be enough to conceal them.It wondered what had gone wrong. Why had it tried to make the winter everlasting? Why had it tried to take back the homes it built? Why had it turned against its friends, against its own creator?It slowly lumbered toward the mountains. For the good of its friends, it would retreat into a deep slumber. Hopefully it could dream of the happier times. They watched every step.
The words washed together. His cherished Rapidash heard how it was…cute… lovely… smart… adorable… irresistible… plus… amazing… (Don’t you think so? he thought.) Oh, so… wild… beautiful… kind… (I love you.) Warm and cuddly… spectacular…captivating…simply divine… I treasure you… (I’ll always treasure you.)The man smiled, patted the tombstone and ambled away.