Slash Firestorm

On the evening of the twenty-seventh of June of the 2008th Year of Our Lord, the lands of the reviews page for Sinners looked as normal as any other day. Fans of questionable intelligence and taste frolicked and danced, watched by the setting sun's lone eye, as they sang their praises to Slash Firestorm for his talents, berated him to pen the next chapter of his epic tale, and pulled up their favorite passages of the Gardevoir/Slash erotic lovemaking to take a few furtive minutes with themselves. Slash Firestorm, lord of the land, busied himself by writing the next chapter of Sinners in his private study in the highest turret of his castle. He checked the land now and again to take note of his followers' desires, shortly before visiting his LiveJournal, Myspace, and Newgrounds profile to voice some more opinions that none but his most trusted (if absent) e-fiefs would take note of.

Yes, it was a normal day, like any other... before the dark cloud appeared, engulfing the last rays of the dying light. This obsidian nimbostratus, as massive as it was featureless, approached the Sinners land, and many of the fans paused their gay joy to glance up at the nearing fog, confused as to its meaning but inexplicably afraid. Slash glanced out of his window, and when he saw the hanging monster, he ceased his self-pleasure at the latest batch of adulation to regard it in more detail.

"This looks bad," the stocky man muttered to himself as he noticed there was no wind pushing the cloud along. "I wonder if-"

Slash was suddenly blown back by a foetid gust of wind from the ghastly nimbus, and while at first he didn't understand what was going on, he realized that the cloud was speaking to him.

"Slash Firestorm!" the onyx cloud roared as loud as a thousand lions, "I demand you to heed my warnings, and recognize the error of your ways!"

A dazed and confused Slash got up, but his answer was a mere "What?" spoken in a whisper. Down below in the review lands, dozens of fans and readers screamed and tried to flee the area, trampling each other underfoot as the strongest and fastest of the lot rushed into Slash's castle, pressing the guards aside as they sought cover from the next blast from the cloud.

"Do not pretend you cannot hear me!" the cloud boomed to the background of human screams, "Exit your tower and face me!"

Mustering his courage at this sudden threat thanks to adrenaline, Slash pulled up his pants, donned his armor and sword crafted from the finest dwarven steel and elven mythril, and marched down his tower's steps. He couldn't be entirely sure, but he felt an ominous presence that seemed to be watching him from the cloud, staring at him as he made his way down to the stables. He mounted his finest war horse and galloped alone out of his castle's grounds to the now-empty fields of his review lands.

"I am glad to see that you are brave enough to face one that does not bow in your presence, one that does not flinch when you speak to them, one that does not believe you are a master artist in literature," the cloud spoke again, this time softer. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

"Who are you, demon?" Slash shouted at the cloud, his courage beginning to ebb away. "Why have you come to my lands and called me outside of my home in challenge?"

"I am anonymous", the cloud answered cryptically, "but not in the way you expect me to be. I am but one man, much like yourself."

"If you are a man, why are you in a cloud?" the puzzled writer countered.

As if by response, the cloud seemed to decrease in size. But voicing an actual answer wasn't the cloud's intention. Before Slash could realize what was going on, the voice in the cloud began to voice a barrage of criticism that buffeted Slash and his horse, and this latter was so frightened that it threw its rider on the ground when it reared back. The criticism of the cloud was strong, but it didn't penetrate the armor that Slash wore.

"You are a flawed writer!" the cloud was saying. "Your story, the epic titled Sinners, is an abomination to Creation and all of Art! It is not so much its awful content as its execution! You have crucial writing techniques and ideals that you must work on if you wish to join the ranks of the illustrious artists in all of the lands!"

The voice went into further detail, and while Slash was taking it all attentively in horror, a seed of defiance and discontent was planted and began to rapidly bloom in his heart. It grew the longer the cloud talked, and he began to fear it less and less with every passing second as he remounted his horse. As the cloud's tirade drew to an end, a number of Slash's more loyal followers had approached him, armed for battle as he was. They still looked apprehensive, but their love for Slash's story and his modest talents had sparked their own bravery.

When the voice ceased to speak and paused for a few seconds, evidently waiting for a reply, each of Slash's allies spoke in turn, trying to counter this unknown threat. They claimed that the cloud was merely an evil influence without anything of worth to say, and that it was only trying to sow discontent for its own nefarious use. Slash himself spoke last, but not only did he reply to the cloud, he took the moments after he spoke to reply to his own readers' earlier wishes. Perhaps it was to strengthen his own resolve.

The cloud hung silent as it appeared to mull over Slash's defiant response. He had fought back against each of the cloud's accusations, and lastly told it to "elope away", as if this last sarcastic edge would force the cloud back. Before he and his allies knew what was happening, the cloud grew once more, but from its depth came forth a figure cloaked, caped, and armored in darkness, riding down on a chariot pulled by two ghostly, skeletal horses. Yielding a long spear, the figure landed his dark chariot in front of the war party, regarding them coolly and with a hint of disgust.

"Perhaps it would help get my message across if you saw me in person," the foe stated. "I am Jack Nativity, a writer of a different sort, but unlike you, Firestorm, I am aware of standards that must be adhered to. Moreover, I know that what is required of an artist above all else is the ability to accept criticism."

This last statement was the most shocking of all to Slash. Criticism? The idea itself was ludicrous, if this Jack Nativity was to be believed. The only criticism Slash needed to get by was to be pointed towards any contradictions or plot holes in his masterful epic. What need did he require of being pointed out of his idea's executions? Wasn't it enough that he was expressing himself, and that his technique's improvement was not a priority?

Slash suddenly charged the dark figure in lieu of parlay, trying to catch the threat off-guard and prevent any of his followers from becoming lured by Nativity's words. As if expecting this, Nativity stabbed out with his spear, forcing Slash to abandon his rush. Taking a cue from their leader, the others also rushed forth, swinging their weapons wildly and screaming bloody murder. Nativity seemed to ignore their blows, however, whether by his armor stopping their blows cold, or their slashes swinging through the dark man's body as if they were attacking a phantom. Whoever this Jack Nativity was, he seemed to be focused on Slash Firestorm alone.

As the light-armored Firestorm and the dark-clad Nativity traded blows in a furious duel, the two traded further words as well. Nativity, obviously disgusted and even disappointed, listened as Slash called him a troll and told him he was not worth heeding in a short, exasperated reply. Furious at being dismissed so bluntly, Nativity lashed out with his spear in a sudden reversal, catching Slash right on the chest and throwing him clear off his horse and into the grassy knoll.

"I thought you had more self-respect as an artist to hear something that doesn't agree with you and challenge it with words rather than with a misapplied feeling of superiority," Nativity began curtly, drawing back his spear and glaring at his fallen foe. "I'll be quick: you are a self-insert. You must research accountancy and self-doubt, as it creates all art. I enjoyed your work because it was shockingly bad and it was fun to tear it apart, not because it was good like your followers here say it is. If you're dismissing my criticism just because I am not accepting of your world, you are no artist."

Our hero, puffed up and too proud at having been knocked off his steed, bravely challenged Nativity on the merits of what makes an artist and why the dark menace was no editor. "You are a troll! You are a stuck-up, snobby editor who cannot appreciate the world I created! A critic must ground himself in the work and like it before they can critique it!" Slash ranted, his face turning deeper shades of crimson as he continued his shouting. "You do not know how to read! You are simply here because my story contains Pokémon and humans having sex, despite my warnings! You cannot help me!"

As if to reply to his latest rant, Nativity simply whipped his chariot up into the sky. Thinking he had won, Slash got up and brushed himself off as his allies helped him, but before they saw what was happening, two more figures appeared in front of them, where Nativity once stood. One looked just like the dark man, but appeared shorter and yielded a sword and a shield. The other was a fully-robed man like an Oriental assassin, yielding two small daggers.

The new arrivals didn't give the heroes a time to think: the two were already attacking, and it was with difficulty that they could fight them back, even outnumbering them. All the while, the two began to voice their own concerns with the story, calling themselves Not Jack Nativity, Honest, and Alpha Xi. Slash managed to severely wound the dagger-yielder, Alpha Xi, as he finished his battle speech and killed the smaller Nativity look-a-like after this one angrily noted that if Slash truly was once a troll, he would not have picked a fight with them. Alpha Xi, evidently more willing to talk now that he was hurt and alone, stopped fighting. Confident they'd win if he tried anything, Slash and his party granted him the mercy to talk.

"You do not know writing," the assassin began. "You will always be a hack if you dismiss any review that does not begin with praise."

"I'm not writing for you," Slash replied coolly. "Likewise, I'm not going to allow your words to poison my lands in the form of a review if it's just to gather attention. Your first tirade, and the little Nativity clone's, have already been purged from the land, and it has been cleansed."

"Then continue your work if you wish," Alpha Xi spat bitterly, "but you still have not learned what the art of being a writer is, nor what makes good plot."

Incensed by this last comment, Slash replied: "I am quite happy with my writing style, and I know what criticism is supposed to be. You and Jack Nativity think that my writing needs to change because it's too 'EPIC', and that already discredits you. You did not get into the world I have made, which any critic has to do before they can be effective or legitimate. And your friend was right: I should not have replied to you at all."

With this last sentence complete, Slash raised his sword to behead his foe, but as it swung out, the sword was stopped dead by a spear's haft. Slash looked up and met Nativity's eyes beneath the latter's helmet. As the assassin mentioned some last words, he was warped away by magicks unknown, but no words were spoken otherwise.

"Since continuing to fight further will only hurt someone else, which was not my intention, I will take my leave," the steely voice of Nativity rang, cooler than ice. "I will part with a warning: you do not understand criticism or good writing, even after I tried to explain it to you. You do not understand the purpose of art and editorializing. I was here to help you, not hinder you, but you desired to face me as an enemy. Not a concerned harbinger of art, but an enemy. I will cause no further trouble to you or your flock: continue as you will. May you someday learn to write."

That said, Jack Nativity brought his ghostly chariot back into the cloud he rode on, and the nimbus began to roll away, giving way to a natural night. All of Slash's allies were silent, but as if bolstered by the dark warriors' exeunt, Slash Firestorm confidently shouted one last cry to the heavens.

"You could never help me, Nativity! Not with your ignorance of my story and willingness to immerse yourself in the Pokémon world I have modified and created with a part of me. My work was everyone's work: my fans helped me, my allies assisted me, and my closest friends aided me. You and your kind, the ignorant, the unable to read, the pitiful realists... You cannot help my story develop, or help me improve. That is because you could not understand, with all of your hate towards the story's erotic content, that a critic or editor must like the material before reviewing it. You would never know what I planned, because you don't know anything! I was not a self-insert! My plot was not predictable! My style is my own! May you someday learn to read!"

The battle, which had raged on for a number days and nights, had drawn to a close. The besieged fans within the castle had exited, and to celebrate the victory, a weary Slash called for a holiday for all. The horrors of the war were quickly forgotten by the tenth of August as the fans giddily compared the visions of one of the story's characters as being perfectly accompanied by Coldplay's latest hit, Viva la Vida, as a soundtrack.

Life had returned to normal for the land of reviews, but distant observers had gathered proof and memorials of the war that had raged and brought them to the occult and all-knowing range of Encyclopedia Dramatica, where the battle between lulz and fail was stored forever. Their reasoning was that someday Slash Firestorm would regret keeping memories of the war that would open old wounds and bring along new clouds of darkness to his peaceful land, and maintaining a record of the battle as e-history would be essential for veracity. Only time will tell what happens from here, when the information is compiled and presented...

TL;DR EPIC version: An anonymous reviewer posted in the reviews, saying Slash's writing ability sucked, and that the posting was done not because of the Poképorn, but rather because the EPIC was atrocious. Slash got butthurt and replied with anger. The anonymous reviewer, naming himself Jack Nativity, replied again, but Slash's second reply was dismissive and said the reviews were "TL;DR". Nativity replied one more time curtly and Slash got pissed, telling Jack that he was just a troll and had nothing of worth to say because he didn't immerse himself in the story. At this point, two more reviewers, Alpha Xi and Not Jack Nativity, Honest, popped up to give their own two cents. Their replies got promptly deleted, so Alpha Xi delivered a last parting shot or two and Slash replied to him, deleting the true final comment. Jack Nativity also gave one last post insulting Slash Firestorm, but gave Slash the last word and told him he'd not bother him anymore (in the review page). Slash replied to him and finished the matter, none the wiser nor a better writer.