Magikchicken's Stories Hub
Hello all!

The following are links to all of the stories I've written as part of the URPG! I will be linking all future stories here, as well.

Story Chapters by Year of Original Posting:

Everything to Prove, Chapter 1 (Apr 19)
Everything to Prove, Chapter 2 (May 2)
Something to Prevent, Chapter 1 (May 9)
Nothing to Lose, Chapter 1 (May 28)
Something to Prevent, Chapter 2 (Jul 24)
Everything to Gain (Aug 31)
Something to Prevent, Chapter 3 (Nov 14)

Imagine This (Dec 10)

Imagine That (Feb 1)

Just Imagine, Chapter 1: Runner (Jul 31)

Marianne Jenny's Kitchen Nightmares (Jan 31)
Trial by Star-Fire, Chapter 1 (Jun 28)
Standing Stones (Dec 25)

Just Imagine, Chapter 2: Gangster (Mar 1)
Just Imagine, Chapter 3: Leader (Jun 1)
Just Imagine, Chapter 4: Avenger (Sep 1)

Just Imagine, Chapter 5: Darkness Rising (Jan 1)

Magikchicken's Stories Hub, home to the Imagine Series & more!

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Claiming Just Imagine chapter 2 for grading. Posting here per you request in the story.
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra
evanfardreamer Wrote:Claiming Just Imagine chapter 2 for grading. Posting here per you request in the story.

I did read chapter 1 before 2, so my feedback will be based on that premise.

The chapter 2 prologue is a nice sequel to the chapter 1 prologue, giving us a first-hand view of a backstory leading up to the story proper. It does show Borden’s growth from escaped slave to grunt, though I think part of the scene misses its mark. From the twist in part 1, we already know he’s accepted as a grunt; the only question is when, and so the threat of him being killed (from Dorian’s comment especially) isn’t an effective threat to him from the reader’s perspective. To maintain the tension in flashbacks, you can instead use consequences that the reader might not have seen – threats to his personal safety, violence and pain, loss of prized belongings, or things like that.

The scene also seemed a bit too complicated with the number of active characters. For the sake of readers starting here, I like that you started with quick descriptions of the people and their Pokemon. However it also means that there was description of 9 people and Pokemon in a few paragraphs. (Presenting Honedge as a sword rather than a Pokemon was a good way to keep the counts down.) For the scene of what to do about Borden, there are three sides – Borden himself, Boss wanting to keelhaul him or some other suitable punishment, and Garth as a foil trying to give another alternative. These are the only characters you really need in the prologue, or any opening scene like this. We’ll have plenty of time to meet Jess and Dorian later and see their practicality and bloodthirstiness respectively.

I do think your introduction of Garth worked very well in flashback form – you handled quite delicately why such a major player in the gang was all but missing from the first section, and kept it believable. It’s good to see someone with side ambition adding complexity to the situation, though he must be terribly disappointed to see how ineffective his mole has been. It’s also a little curious how someone with such prominence in the brutal gang would still have a nice streak to try and spare the kid’s life. He hasn’t been making a habit of it, so what about Borden made him stick out his neck? Which is a nice segue, into:

Borden – Gangster
With his emphasis of the prologue and the first viewpoint being his, Borden seems like he should be the primary protagonist this chapter. From the beginning he’s shown to be incompetent and ineffective; he accidentally makes it back into the base just in time for a major meeting of all the gang, which was emphasized just that morning. No reason is given for being preoccupied so the conclusion is that he’s simply an idiot who lucked out, which makes his treatment by the gang less unjust. (Not that it’s right, but that it’s understandable.) He’s also much more reactive in this section – as the weakest member of the gang, he’s bossed around by just about everyone.

For the reader to sympathize with a hero (even a hero on team bad guy) we need to see admirable qualities misdirected to bad ends. If he’s a softie with a big heart, this would lend well to taking care of prisoners; maybe he tries his hardest to make their prison more comfortable. If he’s a bit slow but full of determination (like Ash Ketchum), then showing him biffing a task, getting bawled out, and then concentrating on perfecting it lets us root for him.

Shifting focus a bit to the setting of these scenes – the Grayout’s parking garage. Some of this may come down to civil engineering in different places, but my experience with garages is that they spread wide before they rise tall. Having fifteen people (not counting scavengers) occupy several stories of one means there’s a lot of open room which doesn’t get mentioned. You can use that to play up the feeling of lost civilization too if you describe how a corner claimed by a gang member is in stark contrast to the bare concrete around it.

There’s also a bit of a tour guide feel to the explanation he gives – if we aren’t going to spend any time on one of the floors, you can relegate it to background narration. I do like that you tried to break it up, and used it as a chance to explore what Borden thought about it, but the story bogs down a little and it’s not directly moving the plot along. I would recommend that the conversation be the main focus of that scene, and handwave the travel as he moves up the garage. Something like,

Quote:I followed Garth’s lead up the next few floors – one for storage, one for the scavengers, and the one with our getaway Jeep in case of emergencies.

There’s also some symbolism kicking around in how the floors are organized, though I’m not sure if it’s intended. Higher floors should be more secure and hold more valuable things to the gang, as they’re easier defended; however we have the actual gang members on the ground floor, the prisoners kept above them, the vehicles above those too, then the one with the rusting car hulks and Aggron’s bedroom, above that is the garage and goods storage, then the Boss’s lair, and finally the creepy empty floor.

If anything, I would suggest having the empty floor be below the throne room, to better unsettle the people going up to see the Boss. Storage fits below that, with several floors to successfully infiltrate before you can steal the gang’s precious supplies. The main gang area probably fits better on 3, for sleeping/ downtime, then prisoners on 2 and the garage/ guards on 1. That way the gang members are more important than the scavengers, who are still more critical to the gang than a few barely- or non-running cars.

You also have some description about where windows/ openings are boarded up versus barred, but also some about the garage being warmer and cozier than the cold outside. Even boarding it up, concrete is a fantastic heat sink – they would never be able to warm the place up, especially with the amount of open space that it’d have. It would probably also be pretty drafty, boarding some windows would cut the worst of the wind.

The bosses’ throne room/ council chambers are nicely set up; we see from the small tables and the nice rugs that she makes accounting both for business and pleasure in her lair. The welded throne of scraps is a beautiful symbol of wresting power from the ruins, and suits the character perfectly. You don’t specify what the fur coats were from, which I think could add another touch of it – looted or recently made?

The meeting that we’ve been led up to however is very short and anti-climactic. Boss drops a major revelation that the gang is going to war; after very little discussion, she up and leaves and everyone must follow. There’s two things here that make it feel like a let-down. On the one hand, the boss calling everyone into her chambers (and rearranging the furniture) to make a scheduled announcement just to drop it on them and go, seems like a lot of wasted time gathering for what could have been said in the common area. On the meta hand, it feels like the passages we’ve read were building up to a big, involved scene.

There’s a couple of things you can do, depending on what you want this scene to accomplish. One of them is to remove the morning’s announcement about a meeting that afternoon; especially if Garth wasn’t there for it, how would she know she needed to make such an announcement? This also cuts down on some of the ‘dumb Borden’ because he just wasn’t there when the announcement happened, perhaps out on patrol or scouting.

Another you can do is to turn it into a proper war council. Garth gives the news about the TA marching in, the gang does a bit of back and forth among the senior members, until finally the Boss declares they will absorb the other gangs and attack head-on.

One little blip here too –
Quote: "Numbers're better'n speed fer this." Then she turns and walks out, headed down the ramp to fourth floor.
There was no mention of her standing from her chair or moving about before this, and she went straight from sitting to leaving, which was a little jarring to read. It might be better to have her stand up during a discussion to further make a point, or begin walking around if she’s agitated the discussion is taking too long, before declaring an ultimatum.

Back to the story - then the meeting disperses, the gang gathers, and Borden runs down and up the garage ramps. Down is certainly easier than up, but walking up six flights of ramp twice in a short period should probably have winded him. Especially if he was trying to hurry to not disappoint Boss, maybe make mention of him catching his breath, or picking up a stitch in his side he has to try not to acknowledge so he can seem more tough.

The copter is a very neat contraption. Details of how it work might be a little overdone; acknowledging the rotors were scavenged from the airport, motors from electric vehicles, and all cobbled together to run off of Elekid is plenty. The more time you spend describing it, the more important that readers will assume it to become. Looking ahead, other than a very brief stint as a gunship it’s mostly for scouting and conveying people to the meeting point. It vanishes at the beginning of Boss meeting the Shakespeare queen though – does it get involved at all in the fight against the Smashers? Or does it return to base, since Lorraine doesn’t seem that effective a combatant on her own?

Borden’s enthusiasm is a really nice touch here. For a kid with as rough a life as he’s had, being able to throw off the shackles of gravity must be incredibly liberating. Seeing his tormentors reduced to miniature, and to look down on them for a change shifts his entire demeanor, in addition to some of that juvenile innocence we see abused elsewhere. Having him start to bond with the matronly pilot lets the reader see what he’d look like in a little more normal domestic situation.

Interlude: Larissa
Now we have a fairly short scene of Larissa training. I think you struck the right level of action versus description in the fight; sometimes things bog down with having to keep track of every limb in the fight, but you showed us just enough to tell she’s a canny fighter but still overmatched. There was a little confusion at the beginning where she was skidding backwards, presumably from taking a solid blow. The hit isn’t actually described and the foe is simply stalking forwards, on its guard, so I’m not sure if she threw herself backwards to open up space, or if she was braced for a strike and not injured by it.

It’s a very creative use of a Substitute I must say – most of the time I see it depicted as a passive barrier, rather than an opponent or even a puppet controlled by the foe. It fits how this Spiritomb is depicted as well, acting by proxies and cats-paws to achieve its goals.

When you described the channeling of energy she did to strike the reformed Sub though, it came out a little unclear. It read a bit like she started shooting short jets of shadow fire from her fingertips, but it’s effects are described more like claws or even like the whole hand was sheathed in it.

This part of the scene was jarring though:
Quote: Then the confusion in Spiritomb's mind-presence changes to a sense of realization, followed by unmistakable amusement. ~Do you imagine that we desire you as a mate, in the way that the Borden boy does?~

"...The hell? No, god no!" I shout over my shoulder, struggling not to turn around and stomp back in there like a petulant child. Gritting my teeth and fully aware that the damn thing can hear me no matter where I talk from, I face forward and start to climb the stairs, telling Spiritomb firmly, "And for the record, you're way off base about Borden. That asshole turned me in, so if you think he's in... in some kind of twisted love with me... well, then you sure don't understand humans like you think you do."
If Spiritomb was the amalgam of human spirits, and their knowledge, confusion seems inappropriate. However, if it’s a more alien being, human emotions and sensitivities would certainly give it trouble – but then it almost seems playful as it taunts her a moment later. It’s a bit out of character for how the creature was portrayed earlier, and doesn’t recur at least in this chapter.

And now, back to Borden!
Now we’re seeing his situation start to heat up. The enemy they seek is finally spotted, and the Grayouts disperse in preparation for the battle they all expect. Their actions here say a little more about who they are, too – The bigwigs clump together on the biggest, meanest Pokemon around. Garth vanishes to do his own thing. Slowbro gets a ride, while Melianne settles for some company; and the less experienced trainers band together.

You’ve got some nice, concise description of the Pokemon here – just the right level of detail for how many of them are present, readers familiar with Pokemon in general will recognize them immediately and those not familiar, still have an idea of what they’re imagining. I’m glad that in your post-apoc future, Tesla is still remembered and respected – he’s a fantastic story that doesn’t get enough appreciation. You conveyed the volume of the craft and the weapon pretty well, but it seems loud enough it should have had some repercussions – perhaps Borden claps his hands over his ears in pain, or maybe after the coil shuts off, you can mention the ringing in his ears that seems to linger.

When we next look down, the battle is basically over. The response party is basically all dealt with offscreen, excepting Garth appearing from nowhere to save Marty from oblivion (pun intended). Given that Borden is a more distant observer, it works for you here as he’d be powerless to affect the battle below. You demonstrate this with his one chance to intervene, all he could do is tell Lorraine to use the light to signal Seth; but it’d be so cumbersome it couldn’t possibly work in time, and it’s headed off by Garth’s intervention anyways.

You spend a little time on the interaction with the group leader, and I’m not sure if it was word choice or my reading, but it took me a bit to realize it was discipline and not remote mind control causing the boy’s stilted actions.
Quote: With a start, the kid with the short haircut opens his eyes, and darts 'em around real quick, takin' stock o' what's goin' on. Then he focuses straight ahead, like a robot or somethin'.
"You wish for the Commander to turn herself in to you in exchange for us," the boy interprets, his voice not waverin' even the slightest.
"Commander Titania will not be parlaying with hostage-takers. She won't allow herself to be captured in exchange for mere soldiers," the boy responds, all business, not lookin' scared at all.
I think that even the most disciplined fourteen year old would still be a little apprehensive in a situation like this, surrounded by fearsome enemies – it might have been more impactful to have his actions happen despite some nervousness, shown in ways like taking a few moments before responding, deliberately avoiding eye contact, and saying as little as possible.

I do love the Slowpoke insertion there at the very end – it’s not exactly comedic, but it breaks the tension in a way that emphasizes what came before it. You also have a little thing crop up in several places – the boss intimidating people into calling her ‘ma’am’. It seems small, but this repeated event gets her to have powerful people bow to a demand of hers. Everyone from the most disciplined enemy soldier, to the commander of a rival gang, accept her declaration and use the salutation of her choosing. Especially with the handful of names some characters have (which you do a great job of handling so they don’t become confusing), she is showing her authority is final and everyone respects that.

Back to Larissa’s scouting venture.
It’s cold. You emphasize it with things like silence and stillness – most things have fled the winter for more habitable climes. (Though side note, most birds in the latitude of Amarillo don’t migrate – but they likely would have found better pastures for another reason, such as a lack of food sources.) The scene is set nicely here, with overgrown topiaries and some wrecked cityscape. With no immediate threats, she’s free to do some introspection as she searches for her quarry.

What does Spiritomb want, after all? The reader hasn’t had any more clues than the character, so it’s good for us to have a chance to follow along as she tries to puzzle it out. I think it might be a smidge long here though, you probably don’t need to go into the multiple reasons behind one of several theories:
Quote: So, moving on to the second possibility I can think of, which is that Spiritomb actually does share my goal: it wants get rid of as many Trainers as possible. If so, there are a few reasons I can think of why that'd be the case. First of all, if I were a nefarious evil ghost that can see out of every shadow in the entire city, wouldn't I want every possible obstacle out of the way? If Spiritomb makes an ally who eliminates lots of Trainers and draws the attention of the survivors, that's less people who could stand in its way or threaten it. Then it's free to pursue whatever it likes, probably taking captives and tormenting them or some shit like that. Which would make me basically the lieutenant to the evil overlord. Or a decoy. Not a great role to have in a story, but this is no storybook.
Since the reasons are divergent enough, it may be better to touch on them in passing than to flesh them out. Something like:
Quote:The second thing I can think of, is that Spiritomb really does share my goal. Maybe it also wants to get rid of as many trainers as possible – does it see them as a threat to it? Am I then just a decoy it can use to remain hidden? Or does it have more than one agent? And what could those trainers do to Spiritomb that it’s afraid of?

While I like the callbacks to Larissa’s past experiences with the library, this is the only section of the chapter that they really come up; they mostly seem to be her dismissing comparisons between those stories and herself. Earlier in this chapter Spiritomb mentioned learning from a book about fighting, but beside that it doesn’t get a lot of play. If you want to make it a touchstone for the character – have her find the occasional book in poor condition, lying ruined in rubble, or even in moderate condition stashed in some out of the way spot. Maybe the clerk at that gas station had a copy of Huckleberry Finn tucked under the counter, or Larissa found a few good condition classics tucked away where she hid her hunting clothes.

In that same vein, a smidge down the scene:
Quote: begins to spin around like it's launching a discus (that's a disc of metal that's designed to take strength and technique to throw: I read about it in a book about an old-world sporting event called the Olympics.)
This doesn’t seem to fit the tone of the narration. Is she telling this to someone? Everything else we see her thinking, but this seems more explanatory. In this case, you can probably leave the line out and just assume the reader knows what a discus is – or if that much culture has been lost, you could leave the analogy out entirely and just describe him hurling the heavier Pokemon into the wall.

You’ve got some nice worldbuilding bits woven in here though – the gang colors on the trainers from the Smashers gang, along with how they got their name and what it’s doing to their turf. Even the bits about the Grayouts filching metal from the nearby gangs’ territory show the world has been thought through and it feels lived in. We don’t see much of the warrens in this chapter so I like that you added a refresher and wove it in with new info, so it has something for both new readers and followers alike.

And then there’s a screaming cliffhanger! Now, back to Borden.
You handle the drudgery of waiting here pretty well – you describe how everyone is acting listless, and it’s enough variety that the reader isn’t bored along with them. There’s enough stuff happening to give the right level of impatience – we too want to know what’s coming! When it happens, it sure doesn’t disappoint – a grand dirigible with honor guard, carrying the ruler of this land. Given the ornamentation that the Quickstep soldiers have, it would fit well to have the conveyance also be decked out militarily – you could describe things like camouflage netting, or weapons mounts, or even markings like you’d see on an air force jet.

The interaction between Titania and Boss shows us a lot – Titania is given to grand airs, and styles herself a fantastic warlord, whereas Boss doesn’t have the patience for such trappings. Refusing to address Merela by her assumed title, she automatically puts her on a subordinate level – especially when she again gets her to use ‘ma’am’ when talking to her. The booby-trapped assault vest also shows that Titania trusts her people with her life, and goes a long way to explaining that dedication that her soldiers have.

The force imbalance, too, makes things interesting. How many soldiers does the Quickstep gang actually have? Just here, we already have more than the Grayouts whole gang, and presumably she left some back at the homestead to defend it. So it’s even more impressive that Boss can through her weight around and make demands of the better trained and larger group.

One more oddity:
Quote: Foxtrot-Sierra indicates a zero-point-zero-five percent chance of Hartley's Trainers delaying them for more than three hours, over.
That’s incredibly specific divination. While they have military discipline, and military gear, they probably don’t have computers – so having things at that level of precision seems unlikely. Especially in post-apocalyptic fiction, the world has usually lost the need as well as the ability to be that precise. (Similarly you have things taking 90 minutes, or three quarters of an hour, but clocks/watches aren’t mentioned so the use of specific time seems odd). In this case, you can use something like, “Foxtrot Sierra shows it’s not likely Hartley’s trainers could delay them for more than a few hours, over.”

Now we have Larissa’s climax.
She finally gets the chance to dredge up some of those emotions she seems to usually dismiss. We watch her steeling herself for battle, and it’s very convincing; we can see the stifled rage, and it’s no surprise when her manifestation is stronger this time than in training. The fog of war here is really well done, too – the environs are as murky as her own feelings about what she’s doing, and the targets aren’t always what they first appear to be.

We also see her distracted from her quest in a believable way. Despite her insistence that she’s no hero, she saves a child in need and destroys two Pokemon in the process. She does pretty well justifying it to herself, which is one of humanity’s greatest strengths. I have to wonder though – is her hatred really at the trainers that have oppressed her? Or is it instead a hatred of the Pokemon themselves, the tools that enabled bullies and cowards alike to rule? She has a lament for the fallen after the fact, but it’s brief and doesn’t seem heartfelt. She’s then unable to complete her avowed vengeance to boot.

We again see some of those heroic characteristics when she saves the girls’ father from drowning in rubble. Before that though, we’re treated to a very powerful flashback – the trade-off to using her emotions to power her manifestations, is she gives all those emotions and memories some latitude. It’s a very short scene but it drives home all the things that Larissa has lost. It also shows us that when she has the chance to prevent those things from happening to other people, she hesitates and only does so grudgingly. Her scars are plain for us to see, but in the end she still makes the right choice.

Bordens on a Blimp
Nice description of the flight, as well as the whole gondola contraption. There’s the back and forth banter with Erin which probably divulges more than it should – especially with the Queen and the Captain right there in the basket, I’m surprised she’s allowed to divulge squadron makeup and code-names. It also isn’t clear just how full the basket is; they’re described as crammed together, but then after the first attack, Merela is described as running to the front with her loudspeaker. You do call it out as huge, so maybe give us a number of people for reference – even something like ‘three dozen crammed into the space for twenty people’ would make that easier to picture.

Paul – Oberon – and Xatu seem to have an uncanny bond, extending so far as he can rattle off the immediate future. This is a cool power, but shows up very suddenly – try having a bit more foreshadowing before displaying bigger talents like that. For instance, if Xatu had reacted before something happened back on the ground, or we see Paul using that telepathy in advance of this coming up.

When we see Smasher headquarters, we already knew from Larissa’s bit to expect a lot of rubble. Those expectations are met, when the only thing standing for blocks in all directions is their HQ building. With the activity on the ground being described, it might be worth throwing in other nods to their security – perhaps watchposts suddenly disgorging a few figures, running to alert the rest of the crew. The main hornets’ nest is definitely the HQ, but I’m not sure how far away from it they land.

I do like the psychic theme, with the telepathic orders that can’t be intercepted, as well as the precision teleporting. Since the battle was mostly obscured from our viewpoint, it’s not jarring that it’s suddenly gone; instead it was a strategic move to draw the defenders out, and then place themselves inside the HQ (which they’ve apparently wargamed before). This shows a lot of very good strategy and tactical knowledge, showing that the Quicksteps are not only serious about their military theme – they’re pretty good at it, to boot.

And now we have El Jefe. My first readthrough it almost felt like a bad stereotype, but it felt a lot better the second time through. Especially to run a crew of tough bruisers, it makes sense that he’d grab onto the spirit of machismo and play up the image. He’s probably also not too worried about offending people – if he does, then he simply beats the tar out of them and sends them packing. His disdain isn’t bravado though – he seems perfectly capable of carrying out his threats, with or without Lucario, and not shy about doing it.

There’s a fair amount of threats and bluster, especially once the rest of his gang arrives – that he’s even willing to listen to the interlopers in front of his crew shows he takes the threat quite seriously, given the grave insult they’ve offered by their bold trespass. The standoff stops but doesn’t resolve here; there’s too much potential for tempers to flare and violence to happen in a blink, but it’s left at a nice smoulder. As Borden’s part closes, we’re left with a literal portent – Xatu giving him a wink. What does that mean? Is it related to his memory loss? Is Garth connected, can he actually vanish and teleport! I’ll have to find out next time.

Larissa’s Denouement
Here she has the chance to share her rationalized actions with the observing mentor. It’s acquiescence certainly seems odd here, which is recognized by our heroine. We see her climbing into the sunset after their meeting, but it doesn’t feel final. This would have been a great opportunity to show the reader – if not the protagonist – a bit more about what Spiritomb is plotting, or what its’ aims are, especially as the chapter wraps up. We should want to know what happens in the next installment; with Borden especially, it’s on a tension-filled edge, but Larissa feels a bit more like curiosity than eagerness.

Since we’re in the protagonist’s head, and we can’t just have Spiritomb’s grin widen as she leaves, perhaps this is a great place to drop a clue she doesn’t recognize the significance of. Maybe some castoff item she didn’t recall seeing before, or depending on the goal, something that’s woven between her story and Borden’s that didn’t seem like much when we saw it. You don’t have to go full cliffhanger, but you want to make the reader want to drop whatever their next plans are in favor of finding and devouring your next installment – which I’m actually going to do now, so don’t take that as too severe a criticism!

Anyways, to wrap this up, your target Pokemon.
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra
I'll also claim Just Imagine chapter 3 for grading.
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra
I finally made the time to re-read the story and am chugging away on your in-depth grade, I’m sorry for how long it has taken me to do so. This is the concise grade piece of it, look for the rest real soon.

The good:
Setting/Environment. This chapter continues your excellent worldbuilding, and each setting really shines in tone and with plenty of details that make it pop. The bustling camp especially comes alive.
Description in general. The Pokemon and characters are well displayed, without using too many words. You give key details to the reader, and let them fill in the rest on that framework.
Characterization. Your characters have depth and feel realistic, with nobody coming off as a caricature or flat stereotype. Their interactions feel genuine too, it’s clear you’ve really gotten to know who they are and how they tick.

Room for improvement:
Exposition. Several passages, Karen’s in particular seem more contrived to deliver lots of information to the reader. This background info is helpful to the story world, but the way it was presented in parts of this chapter impede the story’s flow.
Viewpoints. I think you crossed the threshold into too many with this chapter; you go from two in prior chapters to a different set of four here. More people means more to keep track of, and also that each viewpoint needs to do more to stay distinct and carry their weight. Some of these, such as Rin’s, might have done better as standalone stories rather than woven into the narrative here.
Semicolons. Although this one is more likely a symptom of clause organization, it’s most noticed by the number of them running through the pages. In your edit passes try and limit to one semicolon per paragraph, and instead break for new sentences or even new paragraphs.

The verdict:
Sorry again for the delay! I’ll work on getting the in-depth finished by the end of this month.
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra
In-depth grade: (Spoiler tag because it’s long and I don’t want to ruin your hub)
Staff, head grader, chief judge, ranger. My stats (always a work in progress!)
Park: Evan Morphic: Aaren Cassandra

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