The Imposter
13th January 2012, 11:37 PM
Well, it's been quite awhile since I last wrote a fanfic, so don't expect anything awesome yet. Currently PG (for mild violence and minor swears), but expect the rating to change as the story progresses.
leafstormfire
Chapter 1: The Trapinch Trap
Phil woke up falling.
He couldn’t precisely gauge how fast he was falling, but he knew he was falling. Anyone would, unless they were unconscious or in some other way incapable of sensing their surroundings. Phil was not one of these people, and he felt an unbearable sense of fear from it. That may be in part because he had absolutely no recollection of where he was or what happened last night, but he knew he was falling.
In fact, he had absolutely no recollection of anything up until now, except his name and his species. His name was Phil, as you may have guessed, and his species was a human. At least, he thought it was.
He positioned himself in such a way that he saw his arms and legs, and wondered why exactly they were blue of all colors. From his mouth down to his legs, there was a large red spot, and he had an absurdly large mouth. Let me get this straight. I have no memories, and I appear to be a Gible. Oh, and it seems I’m within one hundred feet of the ground. Oh joy, Phil thought.
‘The ground’ happened to be a beach, where a small Pokemon similar in appearance to a hoodlum with baggy skin around its legs roamed about. “Well, the view is as magnificent as ever. I’m glad I decided to walk here. Though, the Tra- oh my Arceus, why is there a Gible falling from the sky?!” the Scraggy said. He hastily softened up the sand where Phil would end up falling with a Sand-Attack, and Phil landed relatively unscathed.
“Ugh,” Phil grunted as he crawled out of the crater his fall created. “Where am I?”
“You must be new to here,” the Scraggy replied. “Most everyone who lives here knows that this beach is Trapinch Beach.”
“OF COURSE I’M NEW!” Phil screamed. “I’m a human in this mysterious Land of the Talking Scraggies!”
“Wait,” the Scraggy said, stopping Phil’s rant. “You said you were a. . . human?”
“Of course I am,” Phil replied, miraculously having calmed down that quickly. “Some higher power that either has a twisted sense of humor or a few too many shots decided to change my physical appearance into a Gible!”
“Somehow I don’t believe that Arceus got drunk and turned you into a Gible, but I bet it’s less strange then the truth,” the Shedding Pokemon said. “As for how you can understand me, all Pokemon can communicate easily with each other.”
“What is your name, exactly?” Phil asked. “Also, why is this called Trapinch Beach? I don’t see any Trapinch here.”
“My name’s Scrags. And you are?” Scrags asked.
“Phil,” Phil replied. “And you didn’t answer my second question.” As if on cue, roughly twenty Trapinch promptly jumped out of the sand, bit down on the limbs of Phil and Scrags, and began carrying them away to who knows where.
“Does that answer your question?” Scrags asked, flailing his arms in a futile attempt at escape.
“Yeah.” Phil performed something similar, as an idea began to formulate in his head. Testing it, he made a small plume of sand roughly ten feet away.
Alright, that proves I can use Sand-Attack, Phil thought. He grinned. “Scrags, I’ve got this. On three, use Sand-Attack to blast the Trapinch!”
“Okay, if you say so,” Scrags grumbled. The scowl turned into a smile as he too then understood the Land Shark Pokemon’s plan.
“One. . . two. . .” Phil counted.
“Three!” they shouted in unison, as their Sand-Attacks combined into a torrent of sand that caused the orange antlions to release their grip. Stunned with shock, the Trapinch were blatant targets for Phil and Scrags’ Tackle and Headbutt attacks, respectively.
“Smart,” Scrags replied, as he Headbutted one of the Trapinch into another, knocking both of them out. The Trapinch left standing, however, shook off the surprise and coordinated their strikes to corner the duo. They combined Sand-Attacks countless times to disperse the oncoming army, but the Trapinch were relentless, bearing down on Phil and Scrags like this had been rehearsed countless times.
Scrags groaned. “They just keep coming! How are we supposed to get out of this ali- what the hell?” Phil launched a crushing blast of mud into one of the Trapinch, knocking it out instantly. He then proceeded to Mud Shot another one, which met a similar fate. “Thank you, AIML,” Scrags mumbled.
The two fought like brothers, blasting their way through Trapinch after Trapinch. Any attempts at Biting were met by a mouthful of Mud Shot, while attempts to get in close were met by Tackles and Headbutts. Finally, the Trapinch were dispersed.
Phil panted. “Why did those Trapinch attack, anyway? We did nothing wrong, I thought.”
“We didn’t,” Scrags replied. “Their mistress, Flygon, pretty much hates any other Pokemon she sees, and the commands her armies of Trapinch to capture her enemies, A.K.A. everyone else. We were lucky to escape her wrath.”
“Doesn’t sound like a pleasant Pokemon,” Phil said. “Anyway, I heard you mutter something about AIML. What’s that?”
“AIML is an acronym for Adrenaline-Induced Move Learning, where in dire situations adrenaline speeds up the move learning, causing a new move to be learned. That was how you learned Mud Shot earlier.”
“Sounds like a real deus ex machina,” Phil commented.
“It is.” Scrags motioned to a path leading uphill that Phil hadn’t noticed before. “Come on, let’s head back to town.
End Chapter 1.
Expect Chapter 2 in a couple of days!
leafstormfire
Chapter 1: The Trapinch Trap
Phil woke up falling.
He couldn’t precisely gauge how fast he was falling, but he knew he was falling. Anyone would, unless they were unconscious or in some other way incapable of sensing their surroundings. Phil was not one of these people, and he felt an unbearable sense of fear from it. That may be in part because he had absolutely no recollection of where he was or what happened last night, but he knew he was falling.
In fact, he had absolutely no recollection of anything up until now, except his name and his species. His name was Phil, as you may have guessed, and his species was a human. At least, he thought it was.
He positioned himself in such a way that he saw his arms and legs, and wondered why exactly they were blue of all colors. From his mouth down to his legs, there was a large red spot, and he had an absurdly large mouth. Let me get this straight. I have no memories, and I appear to be a Gible. Oh, and it seems I’m within one hundred feet of the ground. Oh joy, Phil thought.
‘The ground’ happened to be a beach, where a small Pokemon similar in appearance to a hoodlum with baggy skin around its legs roamed about. “Well, the view is as magnificent as ever. I’m glad I decided to walk here. Though, the Tra- oh my Arceus, why is there a Gible falling from the sky?!” the Scraggy said. He hastily softened up the sand where Phil would end up falling with a Sand-Attack, and Phil landed relatively unscathed.
“Ugh,” Phil grunted as he crawled out of the crater his fall created. “Where am I?”
“You must be new to here,” the Scraggy replied. “Most everyone who lives here knows that this beach is Trapinch Beach.”
“OF COURSE I’M NEW!” Phil screamed. “I’m a human in this mysterious Land of the Talking Scraggies!”
“Wait,” the Scraggy said, stopping Phil’s rant. “You said you were a. . . human?”
“Of course I am,” Phil replied, miraculously having calmed down that quickly. “Some higher power that either has a twisted sense of humor or a few too many shots decided to change my physical appearance into a Gible!”
“Somehow I don’t believe that Arceus got drunk and turned you into a Gible, but I bet it’s less strange then the truth,” the Shedding Pokemon said. “As for how you can understand me, all Pokemon can communicate easily with each other.”
“What is your name, exactly?” Phil asked. “Also, why is this called Trapinch Beach? I don’t see any Trapinch here.”
“My name’s Scrags. And you are?” Scrags asked.
“Phil,” Phil replied. “And you didn’t answer my second question.” As if on cue, roughly twenty Trapinch promptly jumped out of the sand, bit down on the limbs of Phil and Scrags, and began carrying them away to who knows where.
“Does that answer your question?” Scrags asked, flailing his arms in a futile attempt at escape.
“Yeah.” Phil performed something similar, as an idea began to formulate in his head. Testing it, he made a small plume of sand roughly ten feet away.
Alright, that proves I can use Sand-Attack, Phil thought. He grinned. “Scrags, I’ve got this. On three, use Sand-Attack to blast the Trapinch!”
“Okay, if you say so,” Scrags grumbled. The scowl turned into a smile as he too then understood the Land Shark Pokemon’s plan.
“One. . . two. . .” Phil counted.
“Three!” they shouted in unison, as their Sand-Attacks combined into a torrent of sand that caused the orange antlions to release their grip. Stunned with shock, the Trapinch were blatant targets for Phil and Scrags’ Tackle and Headbutt attacks, respectively.
“Smart,” Scrags replied, as he Headbutted one of the Trapinch into another, knocking both of them out. The Trapinch left standing, however, shook off the surprise and coordinated their strikes to corner the duo. They combined Sand-Attacks countless times to disperse the oncoming army, but the Trapinch were relentless, bearing down on Phil and Scrags like this had been rehearsed countless times.
Scrags groaned. “They just keep coming! How are we supposed to get out of this ali- what the hell?” Phil launched a crushing blast of mud into one of the Trapinch, knocking it out instantly. He then proceeded to Mud Shot another one, which met a similar fate. “Thank you, AIML,” Scrags mumbled.
The two fought like brothers, blasting their way through Trapinch after Trapinch. Any attempts at Biting were met by a mouthful of Mud Shot, while attempts to get in close were met by Tackles and Headbutts. Finally, the Trapinch were dispersed.
Phil panted. “Why did those Trapinch attack, anyway? We did nothing wrong, I thought.”
“We didn’t,” Scrags replied. “Their mistress, Flygon, pretty much hates any other Pokemon she sees, and the commands her armies of Trapinch to capture her enemies, A.K.A. everyone else. We were lucky to escape her wrath.”
“Doesn’t sound like a pleasant Pokemon,” Phil said. “Anyway, I heard you mutter something about AIML. What’s that?”
“AIML is an acronym for Adrenaline-Induced Move Learning, where in dire situations adrenaline speeds up the move learning, causing a new move to be learned. That was how you learned Mud Shot earlier.”
“Sounds like a real deus ex machina,” Phil commented.
“It is.” Scrags motioned to a path leading uphill that Phil hadn’t noticed before. “Come on, let’s head back to town.
End Chapter 1.
Expect Chapter 2 in a couple of days!