I've been considering starting up a fanfic in which the gang (probably just a few years older than they are in the show) takes Archie back to the Big Water. That's it. That's all I've really thought out. But I do feel the potential is there. Setting this after the show allows the gang to deal with concepts like the increasing responsibilities of growing up, or in Archie's case, old age. It'd potentially give us the chance to revisit Chomper's family, Elsie, maybe even establish a conclusion to Red Claw's arc.

But honestly, I just figured it could explain what the heck an Archelon is doing several miles inland in a cave.

Just wondering: do you guys have enough free time to write new and new special prompts? You don't want to rest some time?

This is what I do in my free time, to be honest, though I admit I got a bit crunched for time the last few months  

I will be trying my hand at one of the prompts this month as well. As has been the case with most of us, finals were a total creativity suck, but I think I'm back on track. Rhombus's fic may have helped with that    

Anyway, congratulations Sovereign! I'd say more, but I'm at work. I'll try to be a little more involved this month.

6,793

Good [subjective time of day] everyone!

I'd like to announce on behalf of Rhombus and myself that we'll be extending the April prompt challenge to the end of May, the reason being that most of us are caught up in school or work this time of the year. Hopefully the extension will allow everyone who wishes to a chance to participate. If nothing else, it'll allow all of us to catch up on our reading.

I would also personally like to offer my apologies for not reading or writing as often as usual this month. With finals, it's been tough, and while I love to read, write, and participate on the forums, schoolwork comes first. Once May 8th has passed (my last final date), you can count on me being around more frequently. Until then, though, I need to crack down on my finals.

Anyway, thanks for listening, and I look forward to seeing both the entries we have, and the ones to come! As always, your participation is valued! Until next time,

-Fyn

Perspectives: Cera


“Come, Cera. Threehorns never play with Longnecks.”

Cera stood by her father’s enormous foot, unsure of what to do. When the great Threehorn arrived, she’d only thought he was joining in, the same way he did when she played within the confines of the herd, But this was different. He was glaring, snarling at the young Longneck who had surprised her, the one who had dared to laugh at her admitted embarrassment at the tail end of a squirting buzzer. In other words, it seemed “play” was the farthest thing from his mind. Was this strange creature an enemy of some kind? Cera was deeply confused. Behind the safety of her father’s foot, she stuck her tongue out at the Longneck, payback for his mocking laughter. As if to back her up, her father growled menacingly at him, forcing the Longneck back until he was well clear of her.

It was clear now to Cera where her father stood on the Longneck’s presence. He was something weaker, something to be intimidated. And even as her long-necked adversary’s mother approached, a towering creature that would probably have frightened her had she been alone, she decided to prove herself to him, to prove once again that she could be just as strong as her father.

“Threehorns never play with Longnecks!” she echoed, just before a familiar pressure clamped down on her tail, dragging her back and up into the air. She looked up just in time to see the mother Longneck and her own father meet each other’s eyes before giving one another a curt nod and parting ways.

She didn’t understand it. If her father didn’t want the Longneck around, but didn’t want her going anywhere near him, then what was she to do? She wasn’t about to let some stranger laugh at her and get away with it, and she doubted her father would have wanted that either. He’d always told her to stick up for herself, and this? This was hardly that. This was running away.

“Daddy, where are we going? Why’d you take me away from the Longneck?”

The larger Threehorn set his daughter down, and when she looked up at him, she saw disappointment in his eyes.

“You ran away from our lesson, Cera. I won’t have you hanging around with stuck-up, untrustworthy Longnecks while there are still things I have left to teach you. The Mysterious Beyond is not a forgiving place, and I-”

“But he laughed at me!” she protested, “and you just pulled me away!”

“Don’t interrupt me!” her father barked, and Cera settled down. She knew that voice, and it was a voice best obeyed. Disobedience could cost her a meal, or ground her to the herd for the next few days, both of which were less than appealing options.

“Cera, I don’t want you anywhere near that Longneck or his kind,” he continued, looking down the hill. At the bottom, the rest of his herd had gathered, some enjoying the afternoon light, others going about their business, eating whatever food they could find and drinking from the nearby stream.

“Why not? He wasn’t stuck-up or anything. I just didn’t want him to laugh at me, that’s all! I thought you wanted me to stick up for myself!”

“I do, but… but this is different.”

“Why is it different? I was just trying to be like you!”

“I don’t want you to be like me, Cera. Not right now, anyway. Right now, I want you to listen so that one day you have the chance to grow up and be like me.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt him or anything,” she protested.

“I’m not worried about whether or not some Longneck child gets hurt. It’s you I’m looking out for.”

At this, Cera tilted her head in confusion. There was nothing remotely dangerous about the Longneck. It wasn’t as if he was a Sharptooth, and when they’d met, she hadn’t seen anything dangerous about him. Just a curious kid about her age with a goofy smile and an annoying laugh.

“I don’t need protection. There’s nothing dangerous about Leaf Eaters. It’s just Sharpteeth I should be scared of.”

Her father sighed, his shoulders sagging in the way they did when she wasn’t listening to him. He looked down the hill, past the stream, as if trying to find something. When his eyes locked onto it, he nodded.

“Come with me, Cera. There’s something I want to show you.”
…

Cera and her father walked down the hill, past the stream and a short distance away from the herd. The area he led her to wasn’t anything special; it looked like everywhere else nearby- dry with a few scattered bushes here and there for grazing. The whole place was a bit of a shallow canyon or depression, the sort of place water might have gathered in wetter times.

Her father led her on in silence to a dry riverbank where he stopped. Cera couldn’t see what was on the other side of him; he seemed to be deliberately blocking her line of sight with his body. But there was a strange smell in the air- a sort of musty, dead-leaf smell that caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She wasn’t sure what was in this place that was so important for her to see, but she suddenly felt uneasy. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything good.  

Her father seemed to hesitate for a moment, his head turning as he looked at something only he could see. Then, closing his eyes, he took a few steps back, revealing what his body had blocked from her sight. Cera had to hold back a scream. Bones, bleached white by the Bright Circle, littered the ground, making up an entire Threehorn skeleton lying on its side near the riverbed. She’d never seen a skeleton up close before, and the rush of sheer terror she felt almost sent her scrambling back to the herd for safety. But her father’s strong foot held firm behind her, keeping her from retreating.

“Look.”

Against every instinct urging her not to, Cera looked, staring into the hollow sockets where once eyes sat, eyeing the teeth curved in a perpetual, horrifying grin. She imagined the whole thing standing up, approaching her as she stood locked in place, its white teeth chattering as breeze twisted and wormed its way through hollow cheekbones and cavernous ribs. She fell onto her belly, trembling as she shut her eyes, covering them with her feet.

“Cera, open your eyes” her father said. He didn’t sound angry, but his tone carried a measure of force within it. “Be brave. Stand up and walk with me.”

Shivering, she slowly removed her front feet from her eyes, lifting herself onto wobbly, unsteady legs as she tried to avoid those terrible, empty sockets. Her father was already making his way over to the skeleton. He stood between herself and it, and that seemed to bring a small amount of comfort to her. Swallowing back her fears, she followed him. He stood by the carcass, examining the unfortunate Threehorn’s ribs, eyeing them carefully.

“What do you think did this?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the bones.

“Sh- Sharptooth,” she whispered, quaking as she gave him the only answer that seemed logical. Sharpteeth were killers, enemies of the herd and of all Leaf Eaters. But to her surprise, her father shook his head.

“No. Look closer at these bones. See how they’re cracked? And there are no tooth marks at all. This wasn’t done by a Sharptooth; it was done by another Leaf Eater. Probably a Threehorn.”

In that instant, Cera felt as if someone had struck her. She actually stumbled, losing her balance for a moment as she tried to comprehend her father’s words.

“But… but… Leaf Eaters aren’t supposed to kill each other. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it still happens. Sharpteeth aren’t the only threat we face. Sometimes the greatest dangers are the ones we don’t expect; the ones that hide behind a friendly face.” He nudged the skeleton to prove his point, and the rattle it produced made Cera shiver.

“That’s why I can’t let you play with the Longneck. He may be a Leaf Eater, he may even be just like you, but he is not harmless, and the rest of his kind is certainly not harmless. The truth is- It’s not just Longnecks, Cera. You can’t trust anyone. Not until you’ve earned their respect, at least. Not until you know you can trust them with your life. Forget that even once, and you could end up like this poor fellow here. The world we live in does not care about you. No one you meet has your best interests in mind. Live for yourself, and no one else. Forget the Longneck, and one day you’ll be glad you did.”

Devastated, Cera fell back down, shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she covered her eyes again. Her father only grunted a response.

“So you see, now, that some things do scare me.”

Cera continued to weep quietly, shuddering as she lay on the ground. Had she seen her father at that moment, she might have noticed the pity in his eyes, a fleeting image that passed as quickly as it appeared.

“Get up,” he said.

Obediently, Cera did as she was told. She was a mess, the tears mingling with the buzzer juice on her face from earlier.

“Chin up, Cera. You’re stronger than this. I know this is hard, but you’re a Threehorn. The world expects you to push through this, and so do I.” He looked down at the bones again, this time bearing an angry scowl.

“Day is fading. We should go now. Go wash yourself in the stream before you return.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Cera sniffed, getting to her feet and plodding off toward the sound of the trickling stream.

“And Cera-”

She turned around, fixing him with her baleful, gleaming green eyes.

“Don’t go anywhere near the Longnecks.”

But those words weren’t necessary anymore. Right now, she had no intention of going anywhere near anything without three horns on its head. And even that was a stretch.  

…

For the first time that day, Cera was alone, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. She hated it. Every time she closed her eyes, listening to the soft trickle of the stream as it flowed uncaringly on, she saw the hollow, dark eye sockets, imagined the clacking teeth and that terrifying, frozen grin.
   
It’s not just Longnecks, Cera. You can’t trust anyone. Not until you’ve earned their respect, at least. Not you know you can trust them with your life. Forget that even once, and you could end up like this poor fellow here. The world we live in does not care about you. No one you meet has your best interests in mind. Live for yourself, and no one else. Forget the Longneck, and one day you’ll be glad you did.

She wished she could. Right now, she wished she had never met the Longneck in the first place. He’d seemed so friendly, so inquisitive (in a goofy sort of way), but how much of that could she believe anymore? What if he was just waiting for the chance to finish her off, just like the dead Threehorn? Cera shivered in spite of the warm afternoon air. These weren’t the sort of things one should think about before bedtime.

A leaf floated downstream, shriveled and dead just like most of the others, and she was reminded of why the grown-ups were making this migration in the first place. At the end of their trail lay the Great Valley. Up until today the prospect of a green paradise filled with all sorts of strange and wonderful dinosaurs had seemed too good to be true. Now it only filled her with dread. So many unfamiliar faces, just like the Longneck. Who could say which ones were sincere and which were not? She sighed, watching the leaf trail away until it disappeared, either beneath the surface of the water or behind some unseen bend. These were grown-up problems, not hers.

“It’s not fair!” she growled, kicking a pebble into the water. The projectile made an insignificant splash, creating barely a ripple before it, too, sunk out of sight. She turned away from the stream; even rock-kicking wasn’t enough to alleviate her fears.

And then she saw it- something unnatural, standing perfectly still among the gently blowing blades of tall grass. She didn’t know exactly what it was, but it definitely wasn’t something natural. Something glinted among the dull colors of the grass. Eyes? Someone was watching her; had to be. A chill ran down her spine, and she began to paw at the ground, snorting.

“Show yourself!” she called out, her gruff Threehorn voice unable to mask the wavering fear in her tone.
   
Cera recognized the Longneck as soon as he left his hiding place in the grass. She’d remember his pale, reddish-brown colors, his dark eyes, and that quirky smile anywhere. But where once she’d seen only a potential friend, or at least a friendly rival, now she felt doubt.  

He’s here to kill me.

The thought, a little, irrational nugget of “what if” was the first thing to cross her mind. She didn’t want to so much as consider it- after all, this Longneck wasn’t any older than she was- but after what her father had said, she wasn’t so sure she could dismiss the possibility. He was a potential threat now; everyone was.  

“You,” Cera whispered, grating her teeth together as she tensed, readying herself to fight or flee, “I thought I told you- Threehorns never play with Longnecks! Go back to your own kind before I… before I….” she sighed, pawing weakly at the ground. She wasn’t her father. Not yet, anyway, and the things he showed her had left her tired more than anything else. She didn’t have the strength to fight off the Longneck, so she tried one more time, muttering weakly, “just go away.”

“Are you alright?” The Longneck stayed put, seemingly rooted in place. His question seemed genuine, and Cera gave him a genuine answer.

“No! And I won’t be alright until you’re long gone! My daddy warned me about you. I know what you are. I know what you can do.” She lowered her head, presenting her single horn to the Longneck in an aggressive display, her fire returning as she thought of the skeleton.

That won’t be me, she thought to herself.

 “But if you think you can hurt me, I’d like to see you try.”

The Longneck paused for a moment, and then did something Cera could never have expected.

He laughed.

Cera froze in place, unsure whether to attack or stay put. Maybe that was his plan. Just like before, when he met her challenge with nothing but that annoying smile, maybe he was only trying to confuse her.

To catch her off guard.

“I know what you’re doing!” she said, her voice shaking, “and it’s not working! I won’t fall for your tricks.”

 “How could I hurt you?” the Longneck replied, “you’re the one with a horn sticking out of your face. I just have this long neck.”

Apparently he found this funny, because he began to giggle softly. As he did so, he tilted his neck, craning it at an unusual angle that Cera would probably have found funny had the situation not been so tense. She tried moving her head to follow him, but it was impossible. When he tried sticking his tongue out, a clear attempt at returning her own rude gesture from earlier, she actually found she had to hold back a giggle. It was actually quite surprising to her. The Longneck had had plenty of opportunities to attack by now, and taken none of them. Her father had called Longnecks dangerous, hadn’t he? What was so dangerous about having a long neck? And he was right- out of the two of them, she was clearly the more dangerous one. At this, she stood a little taller, instinctively.  

“Well you’re right about that. I am the one with the horn. Maybe you should be scared of me,” she puffed, “my daddy told me my horn is the sharpest out of all the kids in my herd, you know.”

The Longneck smiled at this, and Cera tried giving him one in return. Unfortunately, she was only able to pull off what could best be described as a half-grimace. The Longneck didn’t draw any closer, but it felt to Cera as if tensions had fallen, if only a little. She did not, however, let that catch her off guard. Being comfortable right now was an easy way to get her in a bad situation.

“Now tell me why you’re following me,” she said, trying to turn the conversation back on course, “don’t make me show you just how sharp my horn is.”

The Longneck began to quiver, though he was clearly trying to hide it. Cera, on the other claw, breathed a little easier. Finally, a response she could understand. If he wasn’t fearless, then maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t to be feared, either.

“I-I was just watching.  My Grandpa said I should look at things before meeting them.”

“Watching me, huh?” she pressed him, pushing him on. She wanted to see his true side, to see that he too was capable of being afraid. “Yeah, right. My daddy said that I shouldn’t trust anyone. Not even a little Longneck like you.”

And then something dawned on her. How long had he been watching? Had he seen her crying? Seeing him shake, finally feeling like she was in the position of power, she realized that this was her biggest concern now, that this stranger had seen her show weakness. It was just like something her dad would say.

“And you shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that. It’s not nice.”

The Longneck was silent for a few moments. When he began to speak again he did so haltingly, carefully, as if every word was important. In a way, they were.

“Well… um…” he began, making his way cautiously over to the stream, “Well, I was just going to get a drink before I saw you along.”

He took a deep drink from the stream. Not entirely convinced, Cera kept her distance, but as he didn’t bring anything up about her crying earlier, she decided to let it go. .

“Fine. So get your drink and move along. We’re not supposed to be talking to each other, remember?”

And then what? she thought, do I just go back to sitting by myself at the waterside? She glanced over at the Longneck again, nervously, hoping he’d take the hint and just go. But he didn’t. Instead, he raised his tail in the air, as if to strike something.


Cera didn’t know what to expect, so she did the only thing that came to mind. She lowered herself, baring her horn just as her father did when threatened. But to her surprise, she wasn’t the target at all. Instead, he hit a small, smooth pebble which flew out over the stream, skipping on the way. She’d never seen anything like it before; she certainly had no clue how he’d done it. He turned to her, that same annoying grin from before on his face.  

Nothing at that point in time could have made Cera more infuriated.

“How did you do that?” she asked finally, struggling to keep her temper in check. .

The Longneck shrugged as his demeanor became more playful, “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk to one another, remember?”

“Hmph.” Cera turned her snout up at him. This Longneck was a good talker, and despite the obvious danger a word-twister like him presented, she was more annoyed than scared now. He’d backed her into a corner, and she needed a way out to avoid making a fool of herself.

Again, she thought, reminded of the incident with the squirting buzzer.  

“I’m not talking to you. I’m…” she paused, searching for the right word, the right phrase to counter the Longneck’s wit, “I’m talking beside you… to... the stream. You know. Just wondering aloud.”

The Longneck laughed at this, turning to the water as he did. To Cera’s utter bewilderment, he began to speak to his own reflection in the water’s surface. .

“What do you think, Reflection?  Should we tell her how we beat her at skipping the rock?”

Beat me?! Cera’s eye twitched. It was personal now. The Longneck had decided to make it a competition, and ignoring her to talk to his own reflection? That only added dirt to the wound. Her outburst was immediate, and came without a moment of thought beforehand.

“What kind of a dummy talks to his own reflection? Just tell me how you skipped the rock!”

And then she stopped, shutting her mouth immediately as she realized what she’d done.

She made eye contact with him. More importantly, she’d spoken to him. Just like her father had warned her not to.

Uh oh…

Apparently oblivious to Cera’s own internal struggles, the Longneck found another rock and raised his tail again. Despite every urge to tackle the smug Longneck and knock him senseless, Cera’s curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself transfixed as she watched and learned.

“You have to hit it with the tip,” he said, repeating his previous motion and sending the stone skipping across to the other end of the stream. As it sunk out of sight, he smiled at her again, but this time it was a friendly smile, perhaps even one of encouragement.

Just turn around and go back to the herd. He’s trying to trick you.

She wanted to listen to the voice, to the sane part of her telling her to listen to her father and just go home, but there was a smooth rock within reach. She regarded it longingly, then made up her mind. Cera raised her tail.

Daddy never has to know.

She kept her eyes on him the whole time as she set up for her strike, making sure he wasn’t using the opportunity to set up an attack. She could ignore her father’s advice, but it would be stupid to forget it altogether. She had to be ready to react in an instant if things went wrong. When her tail reached its highest point, she brought her eyes down to the rock for just a moment-

Don’t make me regret this.

Before striking it as hard as she could. Immediately she snapped her eyes back up to the Longneck. He hadn’t moved. In fact, he seemed to be watching something. Against her better judgement, Cera followed his gaze just in time to see her stone skip before plunging into the stream.

“Nice!” the Longneck said, gathering up another pebble. It actually sounded like genuine praise to Cera. Maybe there wasn’t anything sinister about him after all. She grinned back at the Longneck. Now it was a competition, and she lived for competition.

“Hey, that’s pretty neat! I bet that’s farther than anyone else has ever skipped a rock.” A little less wary of him now, she set about finding more rocks to fling, looking up just in time to see another stone go whizzing past her, traveling much farther than her own shot.

“Whatever,” Cera scoffed, “you’re just lucky.” She set up her first stone from the small pile she had gathered and smacked it. The rock wobbled before sinking, having not skipped even once. Cera frowned.

It seemed, however, that she was not the only one to be visited by the misfortune. While her stone had failed to skip, the Longneck misjudged his swing completely and landed squarely on his rump. .

Cera couldn’t help it. She laughed. When the Longneck began to laugh with her, she began to laugh even harder, losing her balance and falling over, laughing away all the fear and insecurity she’d felt earlier. Everything melted away in that wild moment of expression; it was almost as if she and the Longneck had never been separated in the first place, and at that point, her father’s words were barely more than an echo in her mind.

As her laughter began to die down, Cera returned to her pile, still determined to beat the Longneck at his own game. “You know, you’re not what my daddy said you’d be like,” she said, taking aim and letting another rock fly. She managed a single skip. It wasn’t quite as spectacular as her first hit, but it was a start

“What did your dad say I was like?” the Longneck asked, going back to his own pile.

Cera considered bringing up the dead threehorn and her father’s lesson about strangers, but thought better of it. Somehow it didn’t seem right; she didn’t want the Longneck to be as scared of her as she had been of him.

“He said Longnecks were stuck-up and untrustworthy. But you don’t seem like that. Not right now, anyway.”  

The Longneck nodded skipping another pebble.  “And you don’t seem like the belly slider in my Grandpa’s story.”

“Belly slider?” Cera seemed almost insulted. What sort of idiot would compare a Threehorn to a belly slider? They weren’t similar at all! “Of course I’m not like a belly slider. What a dumb thing to say.”

The Longneck didn’t seem to mind the insult, however. “Well… his friends tried to play with it and… um… he got eaten.”

“Oh,” Cera said simply. She’d heard of Belly Sliders and their poisonous bites before. While she’d never heard of one eating a dinosaur before, that wasn’t entirely out of the question, either. In any case, it was a chilling prospect, one eerily familiar. She was beginning to see his point, and the realization came as a surprise to her. Had he been given the same talk as her after their first meeting today?  

“So you thought… you thought I was someone that looked nice, but wasn’t nice inside,” she began to work through her thoughts aloud. “I think I get it. My daddy-” she stopped herself, not wanting to return that dry riverbed where the bones of the dead Threehorn sat, turning slowly to dust.

“My daddy actually said something like that to me, too.”

The Longneck moved closer as if to comfort her, but Cera bristled as he did. He was friendly, but that didn’t mean she could trust him. After all, that dead Threehorn might well have trusted his killer before he died. Thankfully, the Longneck seemed to sense her discomfort, and backed up, maintaining their respectful distance, and Cera relaxed again.

“Cera? Cera! It’s time to come back.”

Cera looked away from the Longneck and up to the sky. The Bright Circle was descending below the horizon, tinting everything above it with an orange-pink hue. She hadn’t meant to look afraid when the Longneck came closer; it was a sign of weakness, and she genuinely believed he meant her no harm. Yet her father’s words cast a shadow of doubt over her. There was always a chance. .

“I should go,” she said quietly, “that’s my daddy calling.”

Smiling, Littlefoot nodded at her, and for a moment Cera remembered the respectful nod her father and the Longneck’s mother had shared before splitting them up.

“So the name’s Cera?”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Littlefoot,” he answered. His eyes never left her own. It was a symbol of trust, and to Cera, it was a moment of realization. He was not weak. Few could hold eye contact; it was a respectable trait.

“Littlefoot…” her voice trailed off as she nodded. “That’s a nice name. I-”

“Cera!”

She looked toward the sound of her father’s voice. That voice brought everything she’d learned today back at once, a swirling mess of fear, insecurity, and awareness that, despite the steps she’d taken to build up a friendship with the Longneck, brought everything grinding to a halt. She couldn’t continue with this; if she did, then her father would have taught her nothing. Bearing this in mind, she made her choice in that moment.  

“It was nice to meet you, Littlefoot, and I hope you and your herd finds what they’re looking for,” she paused for a moment, “but I think we should stay with our own kind. It’s what our parents would want,” she added, trying to sound helpful.

Littlefoot frowned at this but nodded anyway. "I hope that you find what you are looking for too.  Goodbye, Cera.”

And then Cera turned away from him and started off in the direction of her father’s voice. She didn’t look back, even as the Longneck’s footsteps finally faded away. Doing so, she reasoned, would only complicate things further.

“Good riddance,” she muttered under her breath. The words had little meaning behind them, but they helped- if only a little- to remind her of her place. The Longneck was not her friend. If anything, he was someone to be respected as an equal now, but not trusted. She looked back in his direction. To her relief, he was long gone.

“Threehorns never play with Longnecks,” she said, echoing her father’s words from before.

“Cera, it’s time to come home for dinner!”

She could see some of the other Threehorns up ahead. Her father was somewhere among them, waiting for her to arrive. They would go looking for food as a family tonight, Threehorns in the company of Threehorns, as it should be. She started forward eagerly, but stopped when something caught her eye.

A rock. Flat, circular, just within reach of her tail. She looked to the herd, then back to the rock, and without a moment’s thought, she lifted her tail and brought it back down, striking the rock and sending it spinning out over the water.

One skip, two skips, three skips. She grinned.

“Cera?”

“I’m coming, Daddy!” she answered him, watching as the ripples marking her achievement faded. Three skips. The Longneck had only managed two.

Let’s see you beat that.

Cera headed home.

Ooooh boy. I did not know this was a thing, but now that I've found it, here we go!

I can forgive a lot when I'm reading fanfiction, but there is one cardinal sin that forces me to drop the hammer down: poorly-developed characters. Now granted, this applies to OCs more than anything else, since most of the characters from the shows are developed enough for writing purposes already, but I die a little inside when I see yet another cookiecutter OC. Yes, we get it. You want us to feel all the feels for your protagonist, but that's not going to happen I can't relate to the main character. Now I'm not saying all OCs should be average Joes, but when I'm supposed to be reading about some towering, silent, handsome, red and black colored hero capable of handling whatever is dealt his way as he struggles with his tragic backstory as he's wading through veritable pools of potential lovers at his feet (probably canon characters nonetheless), I simply can't get all that attached. And if I'm not attached, then I'm not invested in the character. A lot of us make these "Mary Sues" as they're called, when we begin to write, and there's nothing inherently wrong with that. I, myself, was guilty of it too. But if we want to become better, there's a point where we need to leave that stuff behind. Embrace flaws. Just adding a few things to your character that aren't wish fulfillment, or that you may not find "cool" can go a long way. A good protagonist should always be a very different individual by the end of the story, one that has grown in some way. Mary Sues do not grow, no matter how many life-threatening situations or deep tragedies you dump on them. They are, in a word, boring, and I don't see my opinion on that changing anytime soon.

I was going to leave it at that, but there is something else that irks me. Not quite as terribly as Mary Sues, perhaps, but certainly irksome all the same: unnecessary edge.

Yep, edge. It's a word that gets thrown around a lot on the internet, usually in a sarcastic fashion, but it's a very real thing in fanfiction. But to say I have a problem with edge in general would be a falsehood. Some of the darker, grittier aspects of life can absolutely benefit a story, depending on the sort of tone the author is going for. It's when these situations feel shoehorned in that I think they fall flat. For example, let's consider two hypothetical situations here, revolving around a young Charcharodontasaurus who makes her first kill.

-in situation 1, she attacks her prey with brutal efficiency. The author goes into great detail about the graphic nature of the attack, practically naming every organ as they're flung about like confetti at a clown convention (which is actually kind of a disturbing image. Dangit). After the attack, she eats her fill and moves on.

-in situation 2, the same thing happens. The attack occurs, the author goes into detail, but this time we get to see the effect this has on the Charch. Perhaps she is horrified once the deed is done, humbled by her own capacity for violence, and by the realization that this is who she is. Or maybe she takes a more neutral approach, accepting that this act is necessary, and marks her place in the circle of life. Taking another approach, maybe this is the start of a terrible descent, as she realizes that she enjoyed causing the suffering that she did.

Despite which route the story takes, this approach still utilized the over-the-top violence, but also made clear its reason for doing so. It had an effect on the character. I don't believe anything in a narrative should happen without a reason, even if that reason is a small one. Throwing in something controversial just because its controversial feels shallow, somewhat like creating an essay composed entirely of buzzwords. it doesn't just apply to violence, either. Tragic scenes, swearing, even moments of sheer awesome- I have no problems with any of these. When I have a problem with them is when they don't have any effect on the narrative.

Anywho, that's my rant. Hopefully it was at least semi-coherent as I am on the verge of finding a set of sticks to prop my eyelids open with. Time for sleep for me, I think.

P.S.

Slash really grinds my gears. Not because of the homosexual aspect of it, but because it's usually out of character and it makes no sense.

I agree with this one hundred percent. It's just straight wish fulfillment without any regard to canon. I have no problem with homosexuality. I have a HUGE problem when it is forced into a narrative where it makes no sense.

Okay, people. So adding in all the necessary bolding, italicizing and whatnot takes a really fuckin long time haha. So from this point forward, I'm just going to post the remaining chapters from a link on fanfiction.

Anyway, here's chapter 1 after the prologue Enjoy!
https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_prev...2863&chapter=2/

Let us know what you think! Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

I know the feeling, the struggle is real.  

Anyway, just letting you know that I'll be posting my reviews there as well. I know I owe you two now, so I'll try to combine them into one on your latest chapter. For now, though, I will definitely have to say that you have not lost my interest! Things have taken an interesting turn with this story, and I look forward to seeing where you two go with this.

I, too, would vote for Darkwolf's picture.

Wait, no! No, no, no, that was supposed to be a joke!