lilbluecorsola
~¤Sea Priestess¤~
- 140
- Posts
- 19
- Years
- ~Under the Sea~
- Seen Aug 16, 2016
I just wrote this right now because I felt like writing and I haven't been wanting to continue my One-Shot series for some time. I know it's bad, and I'd hoped it would be better, but meh.
____________________________________________
Tappity tap tap.
?
Tap tap tap.
?
Tap.
A pair of dark chocolate eyes paused and returned to the beginning of the first line, scanning the words intently in order to catch any mistakes her still unskilled fingers might have made. They too had halted their movement across the keyboard; eight fingertips delicately perched upon the home row, poised to resume flight should any corrections be necessary. That was what she checking for, for her first ever forum post must be perfect, she decided.
After some thought, the tiniest finger belonging to her right hand made a swift movement up and to the right slightly, applying some pressure to the large rectangular button it now hovered over. A few symbols on the luminous screen that stood opposite her half-lit face disappeared steadily from right to left, one after the other. Following that, the eight fingers elongated and bent themselves in rapid tempo and in the correct pattern to allow another set of symbols to take the vanished word?s place. It was a better one, she thought. Much better than the word she had just Deleted.
Pulling away slightly so as to examine the block of text she had typed up better, her eyes, shimmering in the half-light, performed one final check for any spelling errors they might spot. At last, assured that there were none, the girl gave a nod of approval. Satisfied with her work, she removed her right hand from the keyboard once again, and this time it moved quite a distance before coming to rest on a grey object nearby. It was situated upon a pitch black pad with some design underneath, and the thing itself sprouted a cord which attached itself somewhere in the back of a whirring piece of machinery that stood nearby. The object, called a ?Mouse?, bulged to allow for the curvature of her hand, so that her palm settled comfortably on top, and let her pointer and middle finger rest on the two buttons that sat side by side near the top of the Mouse.
The girl?s arm pushed forward, and the Mouse slid across the mat with ease. As she did so, a small white arrow on the screen moved simultaneously, and she positioned it so that it hovered above a pixelated button marked ?Post?.
Her rosy lips curled into a faint smile, and her pointer finger exerted a minor amount of strength in order to lower the left Mouse button, producing a satisfying clicking sound. At that same moment, the screen button gained a dashed border and appeared to imbed itself into the page. The screen flashed white for a second, and then the color soon returned. No longer was her message in a mere white box, it was on a colored background, and displayed for all to see.
The girl grinned in ecstasy, and, without bothering to wait and see the public?s reaction, began at once to type up another reply to post within her own thread. New ideas were bursting into her mind with each passing second, and she refused to allow a single one escape. In her excitement, she failed to notice a small clickable item in the corner labeled ?Edit?.
She breathed a sigh as her fingers performed the last necessary stroke. Not even proofreading this time, she went ahead and posted it, and waited with eager anticipation for the blank screen to clear. Her eyes lit up with joy upon seeing messages in between the first and her latest. Someone had replied!
With much enthusiasm, her eyes sped over the foreign lines, hungrily digesting every word. As she gradually began to fully comprehend their meaning though, her expression turned abruptly from delight to horror. Fearing there was some mistake, she scrolled upwards and read them once again, biting her lips in anxiety. The words were still the same, and their meaning was clear. Her thread was stupid. She was stupid, and nothing but.
Bewildered and distressed, the girl slumped back in her seat. Was it true? Did they really mean it? Was she nothing but a stupid little girl, as their words led her to believe?
Her eyes narrowed as the truth slowly dawned upon her. Yes, they had said that, but that didn?t mean it was true. She sat up straight and stiff with a rigid, determined expression set on her face. Furiously she attacked the keys on her keyboard. She?d show them who were stupid!
She laughed at them, shot back insults, ridiculed them. She was determined to make them realize that they were in the wrong. But the degrading responses just kept flooding in, and at last, she realized with a horrible wrenching sensation, that she was all alone.
At this point, the tears were coming to her eyes. With one last desperate attempt to redeem herself after all the trouble she?d caused, she appealed to the members amid sobs. She blamed her lack of knowledge on her ?newbie? status, and implored that they forgive her for her disgraceful actions. Some ignored her, others jeered at her, and most left in the end, feeling satisfied that they?d done a good job keeping their lovely Forum SPAM-free. One seemingly kindly soul remained and acquitted her, but it was of little use. Feeling ashamed and upset, she tore her tearing eyes away from the screen, and reached for the buttons that would shut down her computer. The screen went black, and she stood up and purposefully walked away. She never returned to that Forum again.
The next few days she spent in denial. She mentioned carelessly to her brother how she had enraged all the members of the first Forum she had been to, with her very first post, but made no comment other than that. And yet, the pain she had felt that night still stung for a long time to come, and those words she remembered echoed within her mind for many nights after that, as she lay in bed, trying desperately to fall asleep despite.
Even a thing she had once loved no longer brought joy to her life. No, now that she had made a fool of herself because of it, she could no longer bear to even glimpse the Pok?mon television show. If she happened to switch to that particular channel while it was airing, she couldn?t even bring herself to remain there for one minute. She would immediately change to some other station, for just seeing the characters that she had incorporated in her foolish theory reminded her of the agony that it had earned her. This went on for days, weeks, and even months. And every night, the same contemptuous statements returned to haunt her mind, whilst she huddled miserably beneath her sheets, staring blankly up at the ceiling, and silently wishing death upon all those that had scorned her.
Though as they say, ?Time heals everything.?
Half a year had passed, and she barely remembered the hurtful events that had occurred not all too long ago. Indeed, she had even registered to another Forum, a different one this time. One by the name of ?Serebii.net?. And here she was again, merrily typing up her first thread for posting. Things were a little different this time, however. She?d spent nearly a month merely watching and observing the way the board and its members functioned, preparing herself and her work for the day when she too would join their fun. Now that day had come.
With nervous glances, her pair of deep chocolate eyes scanned the text once more. It seemed all right. Whether it really was or wasn?t, though, was up to her readers.
Shakily, her hand reached for the mouse, and moved her cursor so that it hovered over the button inscribed ?Submit New Thread?. There was a click, both buttons sank, and the screen turned blank. A moment later, the page returned as a thread viewable by all. This time, instead of pure text, some small, blocky images were scattered throughout, artwork she had created for the viewing pleasure of her audience. Supposedly she would received some nice compliments as well, but since the last time, she?d learned not to get her hopes too high up.
She backed up a few pages, and waited impatiently for what seemed a sufficient amount of time. Both with dread and eager anticipation, she hit the Refresh button, and waited?
There. Beside the thread entitled ?My First Sprites(Most of them anyway)?, there was a Post Count, and the number had upped from 0 to 1.
Almost disbelieving at first, she hastily returned to the page that showcased her art and scrolled down to the bottom of the page. Yes, it was there, plain as day. A reply! Carefully, cautiously, she scanned the lines posted in response to her own, and her lips cracked into a wide beam as she did so. They liked it! They really liked her sprites! The ones she?d worked on for a month!
Too overjoyed to react for a while, lilbluecorsola reclined in her chair and savored the words for another minute or so. So, this was what acceptance felt like.
It felt good.
At last, remembering that she should be polite and thank her critic, she moved her cursor over to the button marked ?Post Reply?, and, still smiling, began typing up a reply.
____________________________________________
Yes, this is a true story. Yes, I hope this will be able to open some eyes to what a N00b experiences, despite its horridness. Yes, I know I was much too sensitive for letting such paltry remarks get to me. No, I don't want to hear your views on whether it's right to flame N00bs. Got it? Good.
____________________________________________
Tappity tap tap.
?
Tap tap tap.
?
Tap.
A pair of dark chocolate eyes paused and returned to the beginning of the first line, scanning the words intently in order to catch any mistakes her still unskilled fingers might have made. They too had halted their movement across the keyboard; eight fingertips delicately perched upon the home row, poised to resume flight should any corrections be necessary. That was what she checking for, for her first ever forum post must be perfect, she decided.
After some thought, the tiniest finger belonging to her right hand made a swift movement up and to the right slightly, applying some pressure to the large rectangular button it now hovered over. A few symbols on the luminous screen that stood opposite her half-lit face disappeared steadily from right to left, one after the other. Following that, the eight fingers elongated and bent themselves in rapid tempo and in the correct pattern to allow another set of symbols to take the vanished word?s place. It was a better one, she thought. Much better than the word she had just Deleted.
Pulling away slightly so as to examine the block of text she had typed up better, her eyes, shimmering in the half-light, performed one final check for any spelling errors they might spot. At last, assured that there were none, the girl gave a nod of approval. Satisfied with her work, she removed her right hand from the keyboard once again, and this time it moved quite a distance before coming to rest on a grey object nearby. It was situated upon a pitch black pad with some design underneath, and the thing itself sprouted a cord which attached itself somewhere in the back of a whirring piece of machinery that stood nearby. The object, called a ?Mouse?, bulged to allow for the curvature of her hand, so that her palm settled comfortably on top, and let her pointer and middle finger rest on the two buttons that sat side by side near the top of the Mouse.
The girl?s arm pushed forward, and the Mouse slid across the mat with ease. As she did so, a small white arrow on the screen moved simultaneously, and she positioned it so that it hovered above a pixelated button marked ?Post?.
Her rosy lips curled into a faint smile, and her pointer finger exerted a minor amount of strength in order to lower the left Mouse button, producing a satisfying clicking sound. At that same moment, the screen button gained a dashed border and appeared to imbed itself into the page. The screen flashed white for a second, and then the color soon returned. No longer was her message in a mere white box, it was on a colored background, and displayed for all to see.
The girl grinned in ecstasy, and, without bothering to wait and see the public?s reaction, began at once to type up another reply to post within her own thread. New ideas were bursting into her mind with each passing second, and she refused to allow a single one escape. In her excitement, she failed to notice a small clickable item in the corner labeled ?Edit?.
She breathed a sigh as her fingers performed the last necessary stroke. Not even proofreading this time, she went ahead and posted it, and waited with eager anticipation for the blank screen to clear. Her eyes lit up with joy upon seeing messages in between the first and her latest. Someone had replied!
With much enthusiasm, her eyes sped over the foreign lines, hungrily digesting every word. As she gradually began to fully comprehend their meaning though, her expression turned abruptly from delight to horror. Fearing there was some mistake, she scrolled upwards and read them once again, biting her lips in anxiety. The words were still the same, and their meaning was clear. Her thread was stupid. She was stupid, and nothing but.
Bewildered and distressed, the girl slumped back in her seat. Was it true? Did they really mean it? Was she nothing but a stupid little girl, as their words led her to believe?
Her eyes narrowed as the truth slowly dawned upon her. Yes, they had said that, but that didn?t mean it was true. She sat up straight and stiff with a rigid, determined expression set on her face. Furiously she attacked the keys on her keyboard. She?d show them who were stupid!
She laughed at them, shot back insults, ridiculed them. She was determined to make them realize that they were in the wrong. But the degrading responses just kept flooding in, and at last, she realized with a horrible wrenching sensation, that she was all alone.
At this point, the tears were coming to her eyes. With one last desperate attempt to redeem herself after all the trouble she?d caused, she appealed to the members amid sobs. She blamed her lack of knowledge on her ?newbie? status, and implored that they forgive her for her disgraceful actions. Some ignored her, others jeered at her, and most left in the end, feeling satisfied that they?d done a good job keeping their lovely Forum SPAM-free. One seemingly kindly soul remained and acquitted her, but it was of little use. Feeling ashamed and upset, she tore her tearing eyes away from the screen, and reached for the buttons that would shut down her computer. The screen went black, and she stood up and purposefully walked away. She never returned to that Forum again.
The next few days she spent in denial. She mentioned carelessly to her brother how she had enraged all the members of the first Forum she had been to, with her very first post, but made no comment other than that. And yet, the pain she had felt that night still stung for a long time to come, and those words she remembered echoed within her mind for many nights after that, as she lay in bed, trying desperately to fall asleep despite.
Even a thing she had once loved no longer brought joy to her life. No, now that she had made a fool of herself because of it, she could no longer bear to even glimpse the Pok?mon television show. If she happened to switch to that particular channel while it was airing, she couldn?t even bring herself to remain there for one minute. She would immediately change to some other station, for just seeing the characters that she had incorporated in her foolish theory reminded her of the agony that it had earned her. This went on for days, weeks, and even months. And every night, the same contemptuous statements returned to haunt her mind, whilst she huddled miserably beneath her sheets, staring blankly up at the ceiling, and silently wishing death upon all those that had scorned her.
Though as they say, ?Time heals everything.?
Half a year had passed, and she barely remembered the hurtful events that had occurred not all too long ago. Indeed, she had even registered to another Forum, a different one this time. One by the name of ?Serebii.net?. And here she was again, merrily typing up her first thread for posting. Things were a little different this time, however. She?d spent nearly a month merely watching and observing the way the board and its members functioned, preparing herself and her work for the day when she too would join their fun. Now that day had come.
With nervous glances, her pair of deep chocolate eyes scanned the text once more. It seemed all right. Whether it really was or wasn?t, though, was up to her readers.
Shakily, her hand reached for the mouse, and moved her cursor so that it hovered over the button inscribed ?Submit New Thread?. There was a click, both buttons sank, and the screen turned blank. A moment later, the page returned as a thread viewable by all. This time, instead of pure text, some small, blocky images were scattered throughout, artwork she had created for the viewing pleasure of her audience. Supposedly she would received some nice compliments as well, but since the last time, she?d learned not to get her hopes too high up.
She backed up a few pages, and waited impatiently for what seemed a sufficient amount of time. Both with dread and eager anticipation, she hit the Refresh button, and waited?
There. Beside the thread entitled ?My First Sprites(Most of them anyway)?, there was a Post Count, and the number had upped from 0 to 1.
Almost disbelieving at first, she hastily returned to the page that showcased her art and scrolled down to the bottom of the page. Yes, it was there, plain as day. A reply! Carefully, cautiously, she scanned the lines posted in response to her own, and her lips cracked into a wide beam as she did so. They liked it! They really liked her sprites! The ones she?d worked on for a month!
Too overjoyed to react for a while, lilbluecorsola reclined in her chair and savored the words for another minute or so. So, this was what acceptance felt like.
It felt good.
At last, remembering that she should be polite and thank her critic, she moved her cursor over to the button marked ?Post Reply?, and, still smiling, began typing up a reply.
____________________________________________
Yes, this is a true story. Yes, I hope this will be able to open some eyes to what a N00b experiences, despite its horridness. Yes, I know I was much too sensitive for letting such paltry remarks get to me. No, I don't want to hear your views on whether it's right to flame N00bs. Got it? Good.