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Wyrm
16th March 2012, 8:30 PM
NOTICE: PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING.

Hey, it's me again. If any of you plan on reviewing this, I need you to know something. In the past, I had been what I'd consider a mediocre writer. Due to this, I went on a writing hiatus for a while, trying to figure things out. After some consideration, I decided that what I should do is post this here one-shot that (again, to me) seems to resemble Zero to Hero, and have reviewers point out what's lacking. My goal is not to necessarily improve this specific work, but be a better writer in the future. So come all, and point out every good and bad of this one-shot. It can be anything from important to ridiculous, as long as it tells how I'm doing and what I can do to improve. Review with everything you've got and hold dear.

Other than that, I'll say that this also serves the purpose of introducing a certain character who'll probably partake in a huge story later on, as well as potentially having a whole fic dedicated to him. And with that...

I do not own Pokémon or anything of the like. However, I do own Dean and all the other characters in this story. No stealing.

RATED PG-13 FOR ATTEMPTED SUICIDE AND A BEHEADING.


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Fatefully Incorrect

I find myself at an impasse.

The rock I stand on is beckoning me to come down the booming waterfall onto the boulder below. It insists I should leave reality behind and come have a rendezvous with Death. Somewhere behind me are the authorities, two imprisoned Samurott, a beheaded judge, and a fearful village. I can’t go back without drowning in the shadow I cast. I believe in going down, where I belong. I’m scared of going forward, defying what I consider to be the meaning of life.

I, Dean the Dewott, am a wreck. I never started that way, and it’s ridiculous why I’m suddenly pondering the ending of it all. Allow me to recap.

When I first emerged from my tiny, turquoise egg, everything greeted me with open arms. I had almost been blinded by the golden sunlight that poured into our hut. Mother and Father were crying tears of joy when they first laid eyes upon me. The entire community came to see me, as if my coming into existence involved a ceremonial ritual. I just stared in wonder. Nobody had suspected anything. Even the coldest and craziest villagers were at least wearing neutral expressions.

Through trial and error, I slowly got along with others. No Oshawott was necessarily born for a party, but rather a trip to the library, so-to-speak. But when I finally saw just how much other kids shared the same philosophies as me (though dull), you can definitely say that I turned somewhat social. From there, I started to hang out with Pokémon of all ages, be it a child, adolescent, or adult. Everybody appealed to me. I listened to stories of epic proportions from the boastful flock of Swellow. I helped out in the local Kecleon shop. I learned to be an excellent swordsman from a deaf Gallade. I thought society was the best invention ever. Still, nobody suspected anything.

The more I was spoiled with happiness, the more there was at stake today.

By that time, I was your run-of-the-mill Dewott. Likewise, one of my buddies, Robert the Drifloon, had evolved into a Drifblim. Robert was always a big chatterbox and gossiper. The instant somebody said “I think,” he automatically announced what they thought to anybody and everybody he could. His mind became so focused on the subject that he inflated with excitement and thus became what he is today. That perk was to be the downfall of him someday.

The two of us were hanging out when he had dealt out his usual round of rumors. This time, it was that a twosome in the forest were arrested and taken to the local court to be granted a life sentence. They had lived the way of bandits and thieves in their earlier years, and went into hiding long before they finally were caught this morning. What’s more, they were among us all this time, acting like normal and lawful villagers.

For the first time in my life, my interest was piqued by what he said. I dared asked who they were. Robert wore a pleasant expression at first, but it slowly turned negative when he actually considered my question and made a connection. His purple body almost seemed to turn a lighter lavender color in shock. Already overcome with worry, I asked again. Robert babbled something about how he couldn’t say who they were bluntly without hurting me.

In the very back of my mind, my own connections were taking place. I could tell these weren’t any ordinary people he was talking about. I asked for small hints in fear of having a mental breakdown.

He said I knew them like the back of my hand.

I knew many people forwards and backwards at the time.

I was really close to them.

Perhaps some of my friends..?

They helped me if I needed them to, no matter what.

I haven’t known many people at all who did that. Maybe...

They were adults.

...

...

They were Mother and Father. I felt my heart slink down into the deepest recesses of my body, skipping several beats in the process. I forgot everything except what was related to them. That was impossible! As far as I was concerned (and I was wrong), criminals didn’t just randomly give up their careers to marry and have me. It had to have been a misunderstanding. Mother and Father were never bad to me, so how could they have been who the authorities said they were? Indeed, it was all a misunderstanding. I explained this to Robert.

He shook his body sadly.

I just stood there. Surely this had been a dream. However, I knew for a fact that I never lucid dreamed. This was really happening. I wasn’t going to accept this for the life of me, but I started rushing in the direction of the court anyways.

I had just arrived when the case had started. A handful of the spectators and jury casted confused glances at me. I rushed down the aisle and took a seat at the very front where lawyers normally were. This time around, however, none were present. A Bibarel a row behind mine gave me the evil eye and tried to shoo me away, but I refused to budge. I was their son, and I was going to be involved.

Judge Electibuzz began by stating how Mother and Father were accused of top-tiered burglary and association with a mafia of bandits. I then found myself bombarded by overwhelming evidence in the form of pictures taken at crime scenes, followed by the scanning of footprints to reveal that they did, in fact, take part in certain robberies.

It seemed like the case was already resolved years ago, and this was a battle the government has already won. Even then, I refused to take this lying down. With a shout, I objected. Everybody but the judge turned to me. He, on the other hand, was trying to ignore the fact that a kid would dare object in court, and attempted to keep on going. I kept on going myself.

I spoke of how well Mother and Father cared for me, how they were good people, how even if they were to have been criminals at some point they’ve changed their ways. I ranted how ridiculous the whole thing seemed, how there’s no point to punishment if the wrongdoers have repented and never took the path of crime again, how there should at the most be a lifetime tax instead of prison time. I almost got carried away, speaking the ethical truths of everything surrounding the case.

When I finished, I looked around cautiously. I was met by a storm of anger from every face except Mother and Father. As usual, it was just the mindless words of a child to them. The judge declared my parents guilty and commanded the two Magnemite in the room to throw me out. One shove from them pushed me back several feet. I was no match for their strength, considering that my mentor had only trained me in skill with swordplay, not making my attack power outstanding.

That didn’t mean my Razor Shell attack wasn’t dangerous in another way.

In blind fury, I hurled one of my shells directly at Judge Electabuzz’s head. It was intended to potentially fracture his skull, but I had forgotten to actually aim and it curved to his throat instead. It managed to sail clean through his weak area of skin, causing a dark red liquid to spray all over the place. His head, still wearing a panicky expression, fell off and tumbled down the aisle until it lay directly in front of me and the deputies. Several people stared, mouths agape. One of the deputies twitched his single eye. Father looked down in regret. Mother gritted her teeth. I held in the urge to vomit.

Oh god, it was over.

The Magnemite silently turned towards me, radiating a yellowish-white glow. I recognized the attack as a Dual Zap Cannon: a move used when the police intends to completely stun a victim for as long as twenty-four hours, sometimes temporarily stopping their heart. It was a method used to capture the most dangerous of criminals.

Ergo, I was now a fully-fledged killer labeled “the most dangerous of criminals.”

My parents were screaming for me to get out of there before being knocked out by a Vileplume’s Sleep Powder. Without thinking, I whirled around and shot out the door as fast as I could, with the deputies at my heels. I could hear their attack almost fully charged and emitting violent static. With a roar, the blast was upon me. In an attempt to minimize and maximize the inflicted damage and my chances of escape respectively, I threw myself to the ground. Something brushed against my back. The whole world around me became an electrical version of Hell, zapping me all over. My consciousness was beginning to fade rapidly, and I desperately held on. Every joint and muscle in my body became numb. The trees and grass around me became blurry. My brain channeled out profound thoughts. Tunnel vision was quickly overtaking my line of sight.

Just as my soul itself was about to seemingly melt away, the electricity started to die down. I instinctively crawled forward with what I had left. The distant sound of a river and the deputies gaining drove me on.

The ground sloped upward slightly, indicating I was close to the riverbank. The Magnemite were just crossing into the clearing. I dragged myself over the edge, the river now in sight. Judging from the sound, they were now about halfway across. Letting gravity do most of the work, my body rolled down the hill. They were now at the base of the hill. The sound of electricity was starting to fill my ears again. I pushed farther, mere centimeters from the current. Just one jump would do it. The deputies had arrived at the top, preparing to paralyze me for good.

Light started to erupt out of the corner of my eye. I stood for a split second before flinging myself into the river. I was immediately swept away at a blistering speed. By staying underwater, the Magnemite were unable to detect me. In spite of its electrical power, Dual Zap Cannon didn’t spread through water because of its jelly-like makeup that only electrifies living beings it touches, and therefore I no longer needed to worry about being struck.

Now lacking my previous emotion, I continued to speed down the river, approaching the falls. As the area below the flow started to widen, I took it as my cue to swim towards the shore. Once I hit the riverbank, something caught my eye. To my right, at the very edge of the cliff, was a smooth rock jutting out of the ground. I recognized it as Odyssey Rock.

It was a rock that served as the gate between reality and eternal nothingness.

My body started acting on its own, forcing my legs to drag themselves in the direction of the Ultimate Destination. I didn’t resist, because I knew this was a course of action for the better.

And that’s how I got here.

There was a chance that I could still live happy, but now it’s all gone. After all, what would you do if your parents were gone, the police want your head, and everybody else you knew probably hated your guts? Everybody is different, I know, but most of you would surely think thoughts along the lines of mine.

I start to lean forward.

How can you live when there is no longer a point to it? Life often has hidden meanings, and it’s up to us to decode them and figure out who we are. I’ve accomplished that, and found out that I am nothing. Therefore, I shouldn’t take up space that I’m not using to its fullest. If anything, my sole purpose is to do everybody else a favor and eliminate myself from the big picture.

I lose balance and plummet.

It’s such a simple thing when you really think about it. And yet, why do I still have a nagging feeling? Do my instincts require that I live as a punching bag? Do I have to exist as a negative being rather than die and let things be neutral? Where is the regret in this suicide coming from? Am I supposed to live as an evil creature?

The rock below me is coming closer at a faster rate.

Maybe there’s something I can do. What, I don’t know. My life is ruined, and I can’t do anything about it. Is there anything else at all? Can I start over?

I have roughly a thousand feet to go.

No. I cannot try again with this guilt. I cannot love anybody in fear of something like that will happen again. I’ll get too attached, and will kill anybody that tries to cut us off. That’s not how I can allow myself to function anymore. Sympathy for others driven to suicide runs through me. Others...

Unless...

Less than five hundred feet now separate me and eternal sleep.

Some of us are merely deluding ourselves. Our emotions have wasted away, but not our bodies. We can join the army, for our deaths won’t matter to us. We can assist others who are blessed with an opportunity before that opportunity shatters like ours did. We can travel the world, helping anybody with anything big or small, making any kind of difference we can. Whatever it might be, I know I can’t allow myself to be afraid anymore. I refuse to rest in a swirling void for all of eternity like a coward and weakling. If my mind is gone, then let the slaving away begin.

The rock is almost here.

With the greatest roar I can muster, I fire a Water Gun at the rock, slowing my descent. Not much speed is lost, but I’m just able to hit the jutting boulder with non-fatal force. All the air is forced out of my body, and I’m forced to stay put for a minute. Recovery comes soon, and I’m able to stand once again.

As I cross the river, a new sensation wells up inside me. I no longer care about the past. My destiny is something that can only happen if I accept who I am now and not who I was then. Perhaps deities meant for this to happen in order to avoid a tenfold disaster in the future. Maybe this is merely the way of nature, and I was caught up in its path. In any case, a familiar quote comes to mind. I have no idea where I heard it before, or whom I learned it from. I might have never heard it at all until now, where somebody somewhere wants me to understand.

“I believe this is all happening for a reason.”

I begin my trek across the world starting from that very patch of grass, on a quest for wisdom, people in need, the stopping of disasters, and, no matter how impossible I told you it is: peace. I’ve joined the league of nomads in search of another purpose.

Sometimes suicide isn’t the answer.

Joining us might be the answer.

We can all only hope our goals aren’t less than abstract ideas.


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Again, review this with everything you've got, folks! My future career just might depend on you people's reviews. Tell me anything and everything you can.

Knightfall
18th March 2012, 4:15 AM
This is wonderfully written, to be truely honest.

So much going on in such a short space, but it was well layed out and I could really feel Dean's deliema.

You spent a little time on Dean's childhood and the village itself, you did a great job describing how his experiances shaped him into what he is today.

I'm just going to be flat out honest right here: I don't like Robert.
The guy decides to tell Dean-even though it was an accident- that both of is parents had been arrested and are about to be sentenced to life in a trial.
You just don't do that to people.

I wish you could have told more about his parents arrest, I mean, you said they've been living in the village undisturbed for years.
What happened so that they were suddenly arrested out of the blue?

That didn't really make much sense to me, but I'm sure there's a good reason for it.
Maybe someone who commited the crimes with them betrayed them to the authorities or something. Plot for a sequal, maybe?

Dean's almost suicide, I really like how made that event an awakening of sorts for him. How before he thought that his death would be " a course of action for the better."
And during his descent he realizes that he still can make a difference and help others. And I liked the moral at the end, I just like stories with a good moral.

This makes me want to know what is going to happen to Dean now that he has escaped the wrath of the villagers and has started his own quest.

Great job, Wyrm. Not much lacking here, not much at all.

I hope that this gets more reviews, it deserves it.

You really should think about writing as a career, you would do very well in my opinion.

That's about all I can do with my limited reviewing abilities, hope it helps.

Knightfall signing off...;005;

Wyrm
18th March 2012, 4:28 PM
This is wonderfully written, to be truely honest.

Thanks! I'll admit: after getting the thing down and revised, I thought this was going to be an interesting crash course. That's what I get for always comparing myself to the best...


So much going on in such a short space, but it was well layed out and I could really feel Dean's deliema.

Whew. That's another thing I worry about sometimes. I'm glad I found the happy medium between cramming the events and completely throttling them.


You spent a little time on Dean's childhood and the village itself, you did a great job describing how his experiances shaped him into what he is today.

With my own experiences, I've now realized that backstory, though sometimes brief, is king. They've changed me, and can change the characters, it seems. I'll have to experience some more traumatizing/enlightening moments, then. :P


I'm just going to be flat out honest right here: I don't like Robert.
The guy decides to tell Dean-even though it was an accident- that both of is parents had been arrested and are about to be sentenced to life in a trial.
You just don't do that to people.

I'll be honest as well: neither do I.

When I had been going through the plot, I noted that Dean needed the news to get to him somehow. For whatever reason, I was feeling a little iffy about having him present right then and there. That scene wasn't quite what I was aiming for. (Which is a disguised way of saying I was actually being iffy about having more action than there is now, due to this being a deep story combined with still being a novice writer.)

Then Robert popped up in my head. He was the plot device I needed. And it made sense...sort of. First he was a chatterbox of a balloon. Then his head became so filled with gossip that he literally inflated with excitement to the size of a Drifblim.

In other words, while not many people would be so low as to say what he said, I tried to make it explicable with his physical change due to a psychological trait. Yeah...perhaps that wasn't quite right.

Note to self: do not have good and lawful characters do things that may hurt the protagonist unless it is truly important to them that they do so.


I wish you could have told more about his parents arrest, I mean, you said they've been living in the village undisturbed for years.
What happened so that they were suddenly arrested out of the blue?

I probably should've been more detailed about that.

Basically, the two were involved with a mafia of bandits in the past,and partook in several raids. So many, in fact, that it added up to a life sentence and being primary targets for the police. When his parents finally had time to acknowledge the fact that they loved each other, they quit crime, went into hiding, and erased what they thought were the only remains of their past. Enter their marriage and having of Dean. But one day, the authorities were in the area and identified them. In spite of the obvious, they didn't expect the authorities to still be on the lookout, and were arrested on the spot. Etcetera, etcetera.

Another note to self: unless it's meant to be a mystery, explain everything as thoroughly as possible. Without boring the audience to death.


That didn't really make much sense to me, but I'm sure there's a good reason for it.
Maybe someone who commited the crimes with them betrayed them to the authorities or something. Plot for a sequal, maybe?

I do have a sequel (thankfully chaptered) fic planned, but now you've made me think of making a prequel involving that. *rubs hands together evilly*

You must be one of the people from Inception, planting that thought in my head...


Dean's almost suicide, I really like how made that event an awakening of sorts for him. How before he thought that his death would be " a course of action for the better."
And during his descent he realizes that he still can make a difference and help others. And I liked the moral at the end, I just like stories with a good moral.

I'm glad my perception of the big picture fits evenly with what others think!

When I was thinking about writing the one-shot, I considered my strong point: visualizing a thought-provoking moral. After some pondering, I produced this. And it seems to work when employed correctly. Eureka.


This makes me want to know what is going to happen to Dean now that he has escaped the wrath of the villagers and has started his own quest.

As long as I don't lose sight of the future story, you can expect to see Dean again in a sequel. The only real obstacle is timing it in order for Dean's journey to intersect with a major story in the future and help another protagonist. With that, I'm sure things'll turn into one heck of an epic. But in the meantime, I have to practice...


Great job, Wyrm. Not much lacking here, not much at all.

I hope that this gets more reviews, it deserves it.

You really should think about writing as a career, you would do very well in my opinion.

That's about all I can do with my limited reviewing abilities, hope it helps.

Knightfall signing off...;005;

I give you my thanks a millionfold. It's been my dream to be a writer, and I'm glad somebody's taken their precious time to help me.

Knightfall
18th March 2012, 4:46 PM
You are quite welcome, I'm glad I could help.



You must be one of the people from Inception, planting that thought in my head...

I'm putting this in my sig.

And with that, I'll be looking forward to the sequel (and the prequel as well), just go ahead and put me on the PM list now.

Knightfall signing off...;005;