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View Full Version : Across the Final Tide [One-Shot] [PG]



Zibdas
27th January 2012, 1:57 AM
The captain of the S.S. Libra smiled vigorously. After being shipnapped by a flying shadowy demon, the Libra had finally made it out to sea. On a glorious day like this, it was no wonder why the entire crew was feeling great, let alone even the passengers.

The luxurious cruise line carried on from Lilycove, which slowly disappeared beyond the horizon. It was quite the amazing day. High levels of sunshine, optimal winds, a bright and cheery atmosphere, nothing could be better.

Disrupting his chain of merriment, the large iron door clammed open as the Head Engineer, Job Anderson burst in, panting from having to run all the way here through many a staircase.

“What do you want, Anderson?” he inquired, furrowing his brow. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of knocking, either?”

Shaking his head, he replied after a few moments. “No sir. The ship is releasing dangerous amounts of methane. Not to mention the high quantities of litter, waste, and oil we’re throwing away into the se-“ he was interrupted as his captain turned towards him and held up a single finger.

Now that the captain removed his eyes from the endless blue sea, he now faced his engineer, clad in only darkened overalls, blemished with various spots of oil and debris, and an oversized hat that covered most of Anderson’s head. Very large, darkened goggles shielded his eyes from view, and two gloves prevented his hands from dirtying. It was the standard engineer uniform in the service; if given the choice, many of them would much rather go around in the nude.

“I will have none of that today, Anderson. It’s the finest of the fine to be sailing, and I will NOT tolerate any sort of disturbances worrying our guests.

“Yes, sir. Bu-“

“No, Anderson. Go back to the engine room, and keep maintenance. That is your duty; we most certainly do not pay you to be a hippy. Which isn’t to say you can’t be one; just do it somewhere private on your own time. Preferably a dark corner or something to that effect.”

“I see. But this is ur-“

“No.”

“But I-“

“Go down to that engine room, Anderson,” said the captain, barely whispering. “Or I will I have to do it myself?”

Anderson gulped. “No, sir. Right away, sir,”

“Excellent,” said the captain, once more turning to face the ocean, flowing white coat behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cursing under his breath, Anderson weaved through the many passengers until he reached the engine room. Upon opening the door, the familiar volume of cranking gears and winding pistons greeted his ears. Shutting the door behind him, he stepped in.

“Ho, Engie,” called out one of the several men examining the machine consuming much of the space of the room.

“Ho, Tom. How’s the break from alcohol coming along?” Tom merely hoisted a small bottled and hiccupped guiltily in reply. Smiling and shaking his head fondly, he returned his attention to the metal monstrosity in the center of the room. Several large pistons churned unusually loud.

As if to respond to the unasked question, Tom turned to Anderson. “It’s been pouring out too much…. how’d the chat with the Captain go, eh, Engie?” In reply, he merely shook his head.

Their upsetting conversation was interrupted by a dull thud resounding off the ship’s hull, followed by mass hysteria and screaming.

“What was that….?!” demanded Anderson, before running out into the corridor. Once inside the hall, their passage was impeded by a long, beige coloured tube of some foreign material that apparently burst through one wall and continued into the next.

One of his coworkers dared to poke it. His mistake. The pipe writhed around, and, apparently grasping and crushing the life out of him, retreated into the wall once more, exposing the gap it left in the ship’s hull. A large burst of water exploded in and quickly filled the small passageway.

“I do believe that wasn’t a pipe…” Anderson said as he watched, wide eyed, as the incoming tsunami quickly began to flood the hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The captain stared in horror as the enormous blue dome breached the water, capped with a large red jewel on either side. As it slowly rose up, it exposed an infinitive dark area, protruded only by two shining eyes and a long, hooked beak. Unrealistically fast, mountainous beige tentacles erupted from the sea, quickly stabbing the ship. Every few seconds the ship would lurch forward, or backward, or up in the air, all based on the massive Tentacruel’s whim.

The ship now rapidly sinking, felt a twinge of regret as he noticed several dark splotches of liquid coating much of the Tentacruel. He looked around solemnly, the ship already doomed, the lifeboats all destroyed. Anerson ran up to him.

“Sir, I-“ he was once more cut off by his captain’s hand.

“No need. If you make it out of this, don’t tell anyone.”

“Not even your child, or even De-“

“Don’t say it,” he warned, choking back tears. “One of these days, you’ll find my boy. Tell him, I… I loved him. More than he’ll know apparently.”

“Sir, he’s not even born yet.”

“I don’t care. You are still to follow my instructions. And this, this is my last.”

“How shall I find him, sir?”

“Look for the boy who calls himself Ash. He should be a fine battler.

“Yes, sir.”

After a long pause of watching the Tentacruel’s cataclysmic destruction, he finally broke the silence. “Anderson.”

“Yes?”

“Goodbye.”


Well, this was fun. I'm not one for how the ending was written, but I couldn't do much more. My first one-shot, comments and criticism would be wonderful.