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Old April 9th, 2010 (4:06 AM). Edited April 9th, 2010 by Yusshin.
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Yusshin Yusshin is offline
♪ Yggdrasil ♪
Join Date: Jul 2009
Location: Quebec, Canada
Age: 23
Nature: Brave
Posts: 2,424

Category: Comprehensive; Language; Grammar; Proof-Reading
Genre: Original Trainer; Adventure; Fantasy
Preferred Method of Contact: VM
Examples of Writing: The examples I'm going to provide that are from when I was twelve are not proof-read and up-to-date, thus there may be some mistakes in grammar and spelling due to my inexperience at the time. My true skill should be based on my most recent fanfic, "The Thieves of Time", and not the older ones. The older ones are provided to show my writing style and my progress / improvement over the years.

Here's an example from a Legend of Zelda fanfic I wrote when I was eleven (approximately seven years ago; I abandoned it):

In a small tree house in the middle of a forest lived a boy named Link. Link was the New Forest Child in Kokiri Forest; an out-cast among practically all the other elves living in the Village. He often felt lonely and unwanted in the Forest but his friend, Saria, cheered him up whenever he felt like this and now, on a fine Spring day in the Kokiri Forest, he felt absolutely wonderful, even as he slept. But this feeling was suddenly destroyed as he began having confusing and horrifying nightmares, all about a girl, a woman and a dark man on horseback. Like now.

Link shifted around nervously as he slept, dreaming of being outside Kokiri Forest and next to a tall, white-marble wall surrounded by an eerie moat. He was armed with an unknown sword and a Kokiri Wooden Shield, he was still wearing the Kokiri Garments that were given to him by the Great Deku Tree. The green cloth was a little dirty in his dream, his hat was long and fell to his waist although slanted on his light blonde hair, and his blue eyes were flashing from left to right quickly, as if expecting something to happen. His green shirt was tucked into his green kilt roughly, not at all carefully, his dark, brown leather belt with it’s brass buckle hung loose from his waist, across his chest and connected to the front and back of his belt was a brown, leather sash. His worn, brown leather boots were covered in mud and dirt and his sheath, which he didn’t know where it came from either, was tied onto his belt, it’s gold leather stuck out like a sore thumb on his green and brown clothing. Floating around his head was a Fairy flashing blue, light sparkles fell from her body and disappeared into thin air.

Suddenly the drawbridge fell from the wall. Link watched curiously as a white mare wearing a dark blue saddle with the Royal Crest of Hyrule stitched into it raced towards him. He darted out of its way quickly, the horse’s silver hooves just missing his waist. He looked at the horse when he rose from the damp ground and astounded himself at the next sight.

On the horse was a girl, no older then himself, and a woman. The girl had her light blonde hair up in a white a light purple bandanna, her sky-blue eyes were mysterious pools of incredible depth. Her clothes amazed him as he noticed her long, white-silk gown that reached all the way to her ankles. She wore white, silk shoes on her feet but they were almost invisible under her dress as it flew behind her. Below her neck was a gold, elaborately designed necklace that was attached directly to the gown, a large ruby was in its center. The top of her gown was a light purple, short-sleeved shirt with white sleeves rimmed with light purple. Attached to the short-sleeved shirt was wrist-length, light blue sleeves that were puffy just below the short-sleeved shirt's sleeves. A gold belt surrounded her waist, a long, purple pentagon wrapped around the belt connected the pentagon that fell to nearly the end of her gown; it bore the Royal Crest of Hyrule as well. Her bandanna had a mysterious pin on it’s front: a golden, equilateral triangle that was split evenly into three. Link stared in wonder as she sped by, not noticing him at all.

The woman, however did notice him and he noticed how much mascara she had put on when she did. The woman had dark brown eyes and white hair, her face was grim as she looked back into the forward direction. Link shivered, remembering a little of how much mascara some of the Kokiri Children put on, but nothing could match the woman’s amount. She wore black, knee-high boots, neatly polished and practically new, dark purple shoulder pads, a white, short-sleeved shirt, a dark gray belt was around her waist, dark gray gloves covered her hands, dark purple pants and a dark gray neck-warmer around her pale neck.

Link decided that he would check out the town rumored to be inside the wall but a loud snort behind him made him stop. Hesitantly he turned around and stared into the fiery eyes of a black steed. On it was a shadow – the shadow – from all the rest of his nightmares. Link screamed as the man laughed evilly and conjured up a black and purple ball of Dark Magic to toss at Link to destroy him.

Then he woke up.

Another excerpt from a novel I was planning to write when I was twelve (abandoned):

“Are you sure there’s no wretched humans aloft?” The older man asked in a demanding tone of the driver.

“’Aye, not one be in sight. I can guarantee it.”

“Good. We don’t need anyone witnessing this, or else we’ll be in trouble and placed on posters.” The man glanced at the younger one, probably in his early twenties, and scowled. “Perry! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The young man, Perry, glanced over from where he was behind a bush. “Ah, just watering the trees, Sir!” He replied nervously, becoming hasty in his actions.

“Well, hurry up! The night waits for no man,” and then with a scornful, bitter intention, he added, “or amateur.”

“Shall I be on me ways?” The driver asked of the older man hopefully, becoming quite edgy due to his fear of the dark.

“No, you’ll stay put until I say move,” he spat crossly. “I’m not paying you for slacking off and scaring away the wolves! I’m paying you to attract the damn things! Now get the bait out and do your job!”

The driver was terrified and appalled of the man now, and jumped off his perch before rushing around into the coach. I watched him pull out the meaty corpse of a hare, some ground beef, a bit of pork and chicken drumsticks, before heading over and spreading it all over the area. Perry had returned by then, and the older man smacked him a good one up the side of his head.

“Damn it Perry! Get your tranquilizer out and hide behind that bush!”

“But Sir! I just wizzed in that bush!”

“I don’t give a damn! Just do what I ask and I won’t start aiming my gun at your head! Do you have that soldier?”

Perry saluted and cried, “Yes Sir! Ready for combat and armed like hell.”

Another from when I was twelve (abandoned):

Out in the land of Petragon was a mountain range overwhelmed in a forest so vast, it would seem only to be a hill of trees. Due to this unusual growth in the woodland in the area, the mountain range was therefore named ‘the Hills of Trees’, reflecting the surroundings entirely. The Hills of Trees were tall and young, jagged at the top and absorbing the sky in the distance. The woodland, seemingly growing over the mountains, consisted of fir, elm, spruce and oak trees, with a maple tree here or there. There were clearings, but they weren’t visible by air. They were hidden beneath the canopies of the trees. The sun still shone through somehow, though, and created a beautiful woodland floor of trilliums, grass, dandelions, poison ivy, poison oak, daffodils and tulips. Sometimes a geranium could be seen, but those were rare. A stream trickled through the middle of the woodland from down above the mountain range. The water was clear and bold, shining marvelously even at night as if by magic. Travelers called it the Fountain of Youth, but a dweller of the Hills of Trees knew differently.

Thomas Tam, also known as Tom, lived in a small cabin in the center of the woods, just next to the stream. He was only seventeen, but he was independent, strong and an infamous mage. He was a tall boy, easily 5’10”, with short blond hair and the most startling grey eyes anyone would’ve seen in their life. They were huge of depth, mesmerizing and flashy. One glance and you would have trouble looking away, especially if Tom placed a spell on his eyes. His clothes were like those that a regular mage would wear. He wore a long, black robe – black like the middle of a night but bright like the lightning – and a pair of black leather hunter’s gloves and chestnut-brown, leather sandals. In his hands he loved to grip firm a wooden staff nearly as tall as he was with strange markings in its sides. The markings, which looked like nothing to some inexperienced individual, was actual the language of the Ancient Tongue of Mythrador, the first kingdom before King Petragon dominated it near three hundred years earlier. Mythrador was home to the Night Elves, a race of Night Mages who caused pain to others and showed no sympathy. Tom gripped this staff with the black diamond at its top in honour. He was the last of the Night Elves – last of the race of Mythrador and the only person on Earth to comprehend and write the Ancient Tongue of Mythrador. His status as a Night Elf was not welcome anywhere in Petragon, and just for his race, he was hunted and shoved into isolation in the Hills of Trees.

That day was a cold one, but Tom liked the cold. He gripped his staff firm as he left his house and stepped into the damp mist. The ground was soggy beneath his feet as he approached the Fountain of Youth known to people but unseen to anyone without a touch of Elf blood in them. Fools, Tom thought stubbornly, staring at the water sharply. This is no Fountain of Youth. This is something much more.

Tom watched the water for a moment before moving upstream. He wasn’t expecting anyone to come along. No, not at all, for this woodland was dangerous, for it was home to wolves, bears and large rodents. Tom needn’t worry though – his magic could ensure his safety if he used it appropriately, and if any Dark Creatures came along, he could easily destroy or befriend them. Yet, as he walked along the stream, unaware of the world through his closed eyes and guided steps, he felt the presence of something eerie. When he opened his eyes, his gaze caught that of a pair of travelers, one male and one female, examining the water.

A more recent one, here's an excerpt from my Pokemon fanfiction "The Thieves of Time"; I'm a bit rusty, but I've improved since the LoZ fanfic (you can find the topic itself here):

As we approached, the form of a small rowboat became more and more recognizable. I looked at Rinslet with a startled expression before saying:

“Where did you get this?”

“A while ago, I found it drifting at sea,” she explained excitedly. “There was no one in it; I just assumed that it got detached from the mainland harbour and floated over here.” She was grinning like a child who had just received an unexpected gift from someone.

“That seems highly unlikely.”

“Who cares? We have it, don't we?”

I frowned. Technically she was right, but I still wasn't too convinced on the matter.

Rinslet, however, was more than reassured. She was confident. Before I could object, she had already climbed into the boat and was seated in it with skitty. Skitty began to meow in fear; the girl quickly silenced it, though, with pets that stroked from her nose to her back.

“See? It's stable, too. I'm sure you can use it, Shin.”

I frowned before reluctantly placing Khail into the boat. It sat up on one of the benches and stared into the water. It then whimpered, as if its own reflection had frightened it, and began to cower beneath the bench. I hoisted myself up, drenched from waist down, into the boat and sat on the bench opposite Rinslet, almost capsizing the boat in the process. As I looked around and tested the boat's buoyancy, Rinslet addressed me.

“Well?” was the impatient word that followed.

“It seems stable,” I admitted, fiddling with one of the paddles, “but I don't know. I'd love to be able to row to shore and escape this heathen place, but the onshore surveillance is hefty during this time. If we ever were to have any chance whatsoever of escaping successfully, we would have to...” I paused and shook my head, my black hair glistening from the collection of moisture due to fog. “We'd have to depart at night, and that's too dangerous. I wouldn't make it to shore.”

“I have faith in you, Shin.”

“Sometimes faith isn't enough.”

Examples of Reviews/Beta-Reports:

Silawen's "Caught in the Moment"

Nick815's "Shadows of Johto"


darkpokeball's "The Return"


Background: I'm a perfectionist; I wrote two complete novels before the age of thirteen, one which spanned 150 pages (normal margins; Times New Romans; Font Size 12). I won the Royal Canadian Legion English Proficiency Award of 2006 when I graduated from elementary school; I also won the Oustanding Achievement in English Excellence Award. As for grades, I'm a gifted student in languages who acts like a sponge with literature information. My marks in every subject, other than mathematics and physical education, average 80-95% without studying. Languages and writing is my passion, and I plan to make a career out of it.

Strengths&Weaknesses (Optional): Grammar, spelling, and context are big things for me. I can spot fragments and the misuse of a semi-colon instantly. I'm also a walking dictionary so generally, the misuse or the uncommon use of a word will be caught immediately, as in the example of "appreciate" in Silawen's fanfic. I'm a pretty rounded individual; when it comes to literature, I have reached a level where faults are rare and are committed 99% of the time by inattention. As well, I understand the concept of personal style in writing and I try not to impede on another's creativity.


Polaret | Fourette | Ecuret | Axew | Zorua | Nanette [Shiny]
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