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Thread: The Reality Trainer - PG-13

  1. #1
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    Default The Reality Trainer - PG-13

    I was gonna work on my humour fic but decided to revamp another personal favourite insted. Logic? Tis indeedy.

    I really hate these fluffy little worlds where everything is perfect. Sure Team Rocket blows the odd thing up but you can wander into people's houses and they'll greet you with a smile rather than calling the cops on your sorry ***. It isn't real, just a childish little fantasy to make all the bad things go away.

    That line of thought brought this into existance a few years back now. A reality to the fantasy, an extreme one mind but for any sense of normal there would always be one who overstepped the mark and ran clear of it for their own reasons. More fun to write about those.


    Only the prologue is from Diablo's point of view and I recall the Master's name came out pretty soon though right now his name and the addition that Diablo barely knows about are unmentioned. Ya know just to be irritating.

    Anywho enjoy while I smash some plot into my humour fic.

    ---

    The Reality Trainer
    Introductions
    (Also known as a Prologue)



    The word trainer...

    If I may, what does it make you think of?

    A shoe perhaps?

    Maybe something to do with a great battle and in turn, victory?

    How about someone who owns Pokemon?

    For me, it means nothing of the sort; a trainer equals Master. There are no two ways about it.


    The Master is not of the fluffy world full of fools. He is not created upon the prayers to the pink and cuddly divine saviours that keep all the bad things away with a flick of a wand, those protectors against the darkness from corrupting thy soul.

    He is the other half of this disposable joy, the flip of a coin. The… yang, the dark, the evil or however you choose to sanction such a concept. Either way, there is no kids show surrounding my life in disguise, the thought is silly enough.

    The Master even stretched as far as to name me a Diablo as though I was some demonic force. I had to take it without question of course, lest I wish for a fist to my ribs or a kick to my ailing skull if those narrowed eyes caught the even the very thought. This would be if he were in a good mood.


    Believers of a world with no ills, the perfect life, the very façade of perfection, I implore you, turn your tails and back away and come no closer nor read further. You will find nothing of yours here, my life never contained it and nor shall it ever. Such a thing as safety or a land of promise is not for me or any other whom is under the Master’s enslavement. Freedom is dead. Leave, while you still have that option.



    I lay here quietly, not daring to speak up lest he hears a sound but then, even he cannot stop my thoughts completely, which is why I am able to voice these words in another manner. Idly dreaming with my front paws stretched in front supporting my muzzle and my ears flattened so close they become one with my pelt. The silence in here is eerie just as much as the absence of light in here, the stone’s chill does help numb your senses a little but it cannot change how unnatural this all feels.


    Still, I am Diablo. My birth name is nothing, something for only my heart to hear now. However, once I was once part of a great pack, the strongest of the Mightyena in the region and our pride shone in the howls we gave to mark our presence amongst the trees.

    But now is very different. I lay here alone, broken, without unity or single mind to aid my plight. There is only the Master’s superiority and our deemed pathetic existence that we must beg to be kept at his command, grovel on paw or wing for scraps like dogs.


    No pun or insult to my relatives intended.


    My fellows in the constricting rooms around me would be Drakcree, Yami, Helle, Hades and the now recently deceased, Pluto.

    You see we are all in isolated rooms side by side. Each one is so small we can barely move, without light and only substance when the Master decides we can have any. The stone feels like the harshest of winter but without the softness or the paw steps.

    Drakcree is the youngest of us, a obsidian sky Dragon with a furious jasper tang to his tail flame. His hide is riddled with punishing scars more severe than the rest of us but his innocent, kinder nature never seems to disappear whenever I see him. Perhaps he’s optimistic that one day we may escape or the very dream keeps his head high.

    I do pity the poor child.


    Yami, well what is there to say aside from the fact she is the oldest and by far the most deranged? Umbreon have been known for strange rituals under the full moons; it is said that gives them powers they should not be able to access, particularly in the older ones.

    She gives the impression that her twisted little mind loves this life the way she acts so strangely to the rest of us. She seems to know everything and yet nothing at all.


    Helle, I do not know whatever possessed the Master to call her that but who are we to question? She is a cast off, a mix of Rapidash and a feral Houndoom meshed in black fur and cerulean flames showing the worst traits of both in her centaurian form.

    She is generally the rattiest of us here and has a tendency to stamp and snap at any given opportunity abusing her ability of human speech. She is perfectly loyal to the Master so she of all of us gets more privileges than we dare fathom and loves driving that message home. Her privileges are numerous but even she must stay down here if unwanted.


    Now Hades… dear Hades whom would just happen to be down right terrified of the twisted little female Yami and the way she advances on him on a complete spur of the moment. I doubt he would ever freely admit she does though as he is naturally very quiet and naturally avoids any contact. He is an Absol of light grey colouring presumably the appeal to the Master, a little bit different as well as a rarity.

    I am aware of a rumour that he is used him as a con to rip people off for oncoming disasters but I have no proof of that. If it keeps meat in our bellies, whatever goes I guess.


    Finally there is… or was Pluto. When alive, he was a Grumpig but now he is little more than devoured meat with a few mere pearls to the desperate, uncaring market traders on the outskirts of town. The Master had become increasingly angry at his weakness lately, how many times the wretched animal failed orders and stood as an embarrassment to the Master’s name.

    He was slaughtered only hours ago; the psychic connection that told words to at least Hades, Drackree and myself suddenly becoming severed told us all. Chainsaw I believe.

    Mostly used to scare, to help carve meat but now to shred a skull so the pearls could be harvested from the corpse and twirled in a bloodied hand with sickening beauty. Onyx and raw scarlet always did make such a fine luxury in combination.


    I fear for whoever is next enslaved. How will they handle our existence? Beatings are common, so is starvation for long periods and battles where we win and live or lose to be put to death at our Master’s hand. The isolation is the worst if you are a pack animal such as I however, that severed connection to leave only one mind.

    Only you,

    With nothing but darkness as your friend,

    And silence to tend your wounds.



    My ear suddenly flicks forward to a scuffle and the sound of keys entering the lock of my door. I lift my head and watch patiently as my gate is drawn open providing just a silhouette of my Master against the light outside.

    ‘Get up,’ he growls eyeing me with slight suspicion. I obey without pause and rise onto my stiffened legs, my gaze averted by a dipped head to show my submission to his whim.

    ‘Come, Diablo, you and your litter mates are going to help me find the meat’s replacement’ his voice commands with nary a flinch of tone. I nod in reply with my tail hung low as I trot quietly up to him looking only ever at his shoes.

    In turn, I follow as he leaves my door but within a second’s breath I am ensnared by my other home, an Ultra ball. For a moment I see a red haze surrounding before nothing as vision fades. The technology forcing an allowed sleep until my master requires my services once more.
    Last edited by Zephyr Flare; 16th May 2008 at 11:25 PM.
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    Ohnoez Sandra. You better watch out for that Cannon Nazi!

    Anyways I love the prologue now as I did before, I just hope you continue writing this :<

    And Collector.

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    Ah, now this was a good read. XD Guess all the less than stellar fics I've been reading made me forget the good writers and fics around here. XD

    The idea itself for this is my favorite part. It's somewhat like dog fighting, only with more-sentient creatures, which makes for some very interesting reading. Really brings to light the dark side of Pokemon Training (well...in this guys case anyway). Everything was very nice, flowed wonderfully. I've got to admit, the Pokemon personalities were very interesting. How some had gone crazy, how one still had hope and how one had been slaughtered.

    He was slaughtered only hours ago; the psychic connection that told words to at least Hades, Drackree and myself suddenly becoming severed told us all. Chainsaw I believe.

    Mostly used to scare, to help carve meat but now to shred a skull so the pearls could be harvested from the corpse and twirled in a bloodied hand with sickening beauty. Onyx and raw scarlet always did make such a fine luxury in combination.
    Really excellent description here. The imagery was creepy, and yet fit in perfectly.

    I really hope you continue this, because it was very good. It also could work as a One-Shot, now that I think about it...but I'd rather it not be. If you have things like this just laying around on your hard dive...get them out, dust them off and give them to us. XD I insist.

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    Yami isn't crazy... well she is a twisted little Umbreon, but crazy? Hmmm This is of course Diablo's personal feelings on everybody and he didn't happen to mention another Pokemon simply as he's not aware of her. Who could she be I wonder?

    And if anybody is wondering, the Zard is NOT his starter, he was his, at the time of writing, most recent catch mostly cus of his colouring. I'll leave it up for debate whom really is.


    I have all sorts of crap lying around. I updated one yesterday which'll be posted soon and currently tidying up chapter 1 of this. More bound to come at some point. Thanks for posting too!

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    Thar we go, all tidied, updated and, well, done. His name still isn't mentioned, oh the drama of it all.

    Leave to guess what he actually got, that and why the hell he brought the Umbreon given he specifically said she wasn't for tracking Certainly a couple of hints but hey I'm saying nada!

    Anywho enjoy the first proper chapter.

    The Reality Trainer
    Chapter 1 - Hearts of Fire


    Only the soft echo of taunt footsteps upon the steps may be heard as the Master walks back up to where light is actually allowed. The fabled upstairs where freedom to pass and tread is only allowed for his distinguished silence, bar the creak of the door opening before it is kicked back again with an idle foot of course.

    Obvious yet secluded, blatant yet stealth all wrapped up into just a simple innocent seeming door off the main room. It looks no different from the others and completely hiding the possibility of what is downstairs, as if his insistence that nobody is allowed through it wasn’t enough to anybody who visits on those rare occasions.

    The last one who tried to sneak down there, curiosity was his swear by, landed a broken arm for his trouble. No means no, even for friends.


    His greeting is little more than a bowed head before he eyes the creature beside him.

    ‘I’d rather be doing work or, heck, even hunting right now than this. You better hope you have damn good idea of where to look, Helle. That thing tasted no better than it acted all cuddled up in his little corner…’ he mutters almost causally despite his more angered expression.

    ‘I can ensure unquestionably, Master, that I know where is a strong possibility of something more useful to suit your needs. I am ready to leave as soon as you are,’ she answers quietly while avoiding eye contact.

    There’s a momentary growled sound before it dissipates as fast as it started as he stalks over to the hybrid in a swift movement more akin to something far more wild. With an almost coy tilt of his head, he lifts her face to meet his stern eyes with the most tender of care and a wry smile.

    ‘You better hope that it’s more than just a strong possibility. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you as well would we?’ He answers with almost a bittersweet tone before moving away almost hiding the darker tone to his smile.

    All the while he seemingly misses the slight shudder from Helle as he starts to head off into one of the other rooms acting complete disinterest of anything that just happened.


    His head turns a slight to look at her from the corner of his eye pondering specifically about her words and reaction in honest curiosity, judging and weighing in turn. Then, with a twisted step lavished grace even for somebody well built as he, the Master slips inside to gather a few pieces needed before the “hunt” begins.

    For Helle’s sake, it better provide better than an annoying diversion.


    ---


    It’s actually a few hours after that they leave given a few calls ended up being needed prior. With little more than a small bag in his possession, the centaurian is ordered to go forth with a firm word from her passenger. Her body is forced to lean far more under the known pressure of what will happen if she slows, that and if she wishes to please him, the bones must not buckle and just last till he says otherwise.

    Keep on the right side; be allowed to have compliment or even, just a touch.

    Still, every body can only stand so much at full pelt even before stretching far into the hours mark before laboured breathing becomes a damn sight harder to disguise There is a dull flicker of amber as he opens his eyes again, having a far more leisurely glance round before raising his hand to stop.

    There’s quite a skid the second she spots it, trying to slow her now far more exaggerated movements to a complete halt without toppling over from the sudden shift certainly becomes an interesting task. With a slight frown, the colours return to their more usual tawny keeping their stern edge as he waits impatiently to avoid getting clouted on dismount.

    Muttering something clearly not of an English tongue, he slides off her back landing fairly easy on his feet and glares at his charge with distain for taking so damn long. Helle completely misses it as she pulls herself finally into a complete halt looking exceptionally nervy remaining a little tense in one leg and ready to spring. The aura caused by his annoyance didn’t quite miss even if his glare was.


    Crossing his arms with a distained mutter narrowing his eyes a degree more, he turns his head just a slight to eye her more carefully.

    ‘All I’m picking up is time wasting right now and little else. Is your assurance still here or did it run off with your sense?’ he queries softly, fingers raised slightly on one hand already showing how the fiasco was grating on his nerves pretty badly.

    He does not like to wait, not for anybody much less for excuses.

    Sensing his growing aggravation, she quickly dips her body into submissive poise trying hard to keep those slight trembles from view.

    ‘I can ensure, Master, there is the one I mentioned here. They are known to travel around this location often… and will be here somewhere amongst these trees though I lack the ability to track as well as say yourself in these matters to narrow the search,’ she answers, a little nervously and not daring to lift her head.
    ‘Better be. Least you can admit something else you’re not much use for given how arrogant you were,’ he answers in reply before closing his eyes for a moments thought.

    Though she looks surprised, she doesn’t dare comment.


    ‘Just Diablo and Yami will help look. Two good trackers with her as well as you looking I’m sure something may come up if you’re right. She’s going with you mind, I don’t want that limp to get worse.’

    Helle’s expression strikes undignified and furious before it quickly subsides for reluctant acceptance to his decision if still seething. Daring not to utter a word, she can’t help but question silently, why send that pitiful old one with her and not allow her to go with the Master? Surely she had earned the right!

    He turns away before releasing the afore mentioned pair, staring carefully at the Umbreon a moment, quirking an eyebrow a slight before a slight snicker to the innocent looking eyes below him.

    ‘Would you be so kind to help her up, Helle? You are admittedly a little tall for shorter legs lacking your kinda spring in her age,’ he asks with a gesture of his hand, wondering if possibly she would take the bait or even just make another fouled expression.

    ‘Very well, if that is what you wish,’ she replies with a dip of her head before walking up to the Umbreon with a clatter and scowl across her face. She glares at the seemingly expressionless Pokemon whose ears merely wave a slight as she waits with the utmost patience.

    Carefully, she is scooped up, extra care to ensure no legs are caught in an almost loving gesture before being placed on the grumbling mare’s back and completely oblivious to the smirk completely out of view.

    ‘Good enough. Right, come on Diablo with both of us tracking there’s a better chance of finding something this way. We’ll leave the ladies to themselves so enjoy the air while you can,’ the Master says simply, with a simple gesture before swiftly breaking into a run leaving the slightly emaciated canine little more choice than to chase after.


    Watching her Master depart with harsh eyes, Helle turns to the waiting Umbreon, raising a hand to strike her now she was certain it would not be seen.

    Oh, but if he was to find that I struck her out of turn… he knows well I do not like her and should nothing be found plus this, it would only put him in a far fouler mood.

    The centaur blinks stupidly. Had she just thought of that? Looking a little confused she glances to Yami who has done little more than tilt her head with the look of wonder to why she stands there still.

    Frowning slightly and with a snort she starts to move trying to ignore the faint grip on her back from the old one muttering a quiet word of hatred at her rider whom does little more than to widen that grin and every tooth it possess in the grandest of smirks.

    ---

    He cannot help but laugh at what he’s just been informed despite the contrasting mutter of, ‘stupid, she falls for it every time.’ He glances back to Diablo, who appears to simply ignore it all beyond a slight prick of ear focusing more on keeping his stride. Shaking his head slightly, the taller turns back to where they head now, listening well for any potential, any unusual scent that may lead to a new charge just as the Mightyena behind him does.

    The way the man runs is almost in kin with the companion however strange that may sound, their gait and speed acting unusually similar, how alert their whole body’s strike to any whom they may pass as they both continue to listen intently. The difference being of course aside from species is, as little one seems to passive, reluctant and submissive at the same time, the other looks as though his eyes are boarding closer towards an amber grave.


    Within about half an hour his expression shifts to a slight frown before he quickly glances to Diablo who himself has flattened his ears tight and lifted his head a little higher. Unusually he’s taking a much more edgy stance from his more neutral awareness.

    ‘So it’s not just me,’ he mumbles quietly waving a hand to his partner to slow as he swiftly does himself.

    The scent both caught is thick with a toxic stench, lingering death in the form of burning of the recent dry spell. Of course this is a false incineration from a drunken idiot rather than self-harm or an element, no big surprise here.

    His eyes widen just a tad, the colour of the fire secretly growing in his orbs as he moves his head slightly trying to roughly judge where if only or that faint scrap of own curiosity.

    ‘Yeah she’s right amazingly. There’s definitely something in there,’ he says quietly to himself flatly ignoring Diablo who eyes him with a simple head tilt before their eyes meet and his head cowers away.

    ‘Fire is a little easier on you than I am while I’m like this, where exactly is it?’

    The Mightyena looks positively confused for a moment, what with him being asked by the Master for help and all. Still, with a frown he lifts his head up high, coughing a little at the foul smell before a sense of life finally drifts towards him. After a moment his eyes flare and he looks to his awaiting, dipping his head slightly with a growl.

    Quirking his eyebrow slightly moving some of his dark hair from his eyes, the man himself dips his head slightly before glancing ahead.

    ‘All right Diablo, you lead the way and I’ll ensure you get extra on my next kill for this.’

    The canine’s burgundy brightens instantly before he storms away in the thicket of growing greys with his master swiftly coming up close behind sharing rapid deafness in the roar of enclosing destruction. He’s determined to earn such a hefty reward even if that means overriding his need to flee from the danger.


    The temperature quickly develops into insane territory as the fire creeps slowly onwards with the slink of feline, lashing out with a thick swipes of super-natural claws causing it’s own girth to grow and absorb more trees into it’s wake.

    As the fifth grown tail reaches out for the taller branches, the stench of something being burnt alive filters into the now stagnant air ever pushing the pair back ripping oxygen from their lungs despite their single desire to track down whatever they have picked up.

    Using a single arm to cover his face spluttering a little, he tries just to see past the bright colours that he is vainly hoping to just to see that little easier, but with the embers lashing out at his face and flesh it is a struggle. It’s then that something unknown seems to draw his attention, a weird tug at the back of his mind from where a venom laced hiss echoes with a vague direction of where to head before silence.


    Diablo didn’t take long to fall behind, fighting instinct so badly wanting to be considered not as deserter but something worthy, but with nary a stride more, he is suddenly and completely unable to stop himself letting out a forlorn howl which instantly gets his Master’s attention.

    As the final notes end, a bright gold of feathered wings bursts from within the fire-beast’s ribs before dissipating completely for an effect quite like a kick out the door. It’s followed by an explosive “slam” sound from a small sealed explosion causing a silver burnt corpse to be thrown out to land at the man’s feet.

    Whimpering a little with his tail hung low, Diablo pads up carefully as his Master scoops up the creature wincing at the still burning metal. With a quick exchange of glances, they both decide better than to remain and vacate. Their heads forced forward and ushered by the wind’s death throes accompanied by the nigh on constant cursing of hot amongst other less friendly words as the body is juggled into his more protected left hand.


    As the blaze begins to diminish at the drone of local fire engines emerging to quell it before the whole forest gets hit, a mark begins to appear, unnoticed on the unconscious one. Freshly etching around the right eye socket as though dipped in searing ink of a feather tip before turning dull once more.


    The mark is that of a rebirth, a second chance being placed into the hands of somebody who detests the things. Irony was having a field day.
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    Remember it's TomTom, not ScottScott.

    I couldn't resist at part of the last bit of chapter.

    It was a bit confusing and a bit skimpy in places but still good, though you had me thinking the fire was morphine into a persian, then ninetales, and finally thought when it explodes Oooh Ho Oh?

    <.< I still do not like Nebula.
    Last edited by Yami Ryu; 18th May 2008 at 11:09 PM.

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    I really liked the first chapter, but the second one I find so difficult to read because it was written in the present tense. Which generally, I feel unless you're role playing, you should never use.

    I'll give it a go another time.
    When a friend gets mortally wounded everything gets put into perspective. Its time to go find the cure: Lugia.
    Running Away From Dreams - A Fan fiction (complete)
    Jamie never wanted to be a trainer but Tom didn't like being dead. The adventures of Jamie and Deadman

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    Throw back to old description style but Ho-oH springing to mind was definately intentional... And he's not a soul sucking zombie bird and you know it.

    To TrueCharizard, the only difference between the Prologue you called a chapter and the real first chapter is the former is in first person while the latter is in third. They're both otherwise in present tense which is the trickier tense since most are lazy with it. That said doens't sound like you properly read either for such silly mistakes and no actual comment on the subject of the writing.

    Now maybe I'll get on with the humour, maybe.


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    Yeah...I just accidentally deleted my review, so...a condensed one?

    I really did like the chapter, actually. Your style was good, nice and vague and mysterious, you know? My only problem was it might have been just a little too vague. I felt like I was missing details, kind of one step behind while reading it. It's kind of hard to explain, I guess, but a little more solid description might be nice.

    The temperature quickly develops into insane territory as the fire creeps slowly onwards with the slink of feline, lashing out with a thick swipes of super-natural claws causing it’s own girth to grow and absorb more trees into it’s wake.

    As the fifth grown tail reaches out for the taller branches, the stench of something being burnt alive filters into the now stagnant air ever pushing the pair back ripping oxygen from their lungs despite their single desire to track down whatever they have picked up.

    Using a single arm to cover his face spluttering a little, he tries just to see past the bright colours that he is vainly hoping to just to see that little easier, but with the embers lashing out at his face and flesh it is a struggle. It’s then that something unknown seems to draw his attention, a weird tug at the back of his mind from where a venom laced hiss echoes with a vague direction of where to head before silence.
    This was really good. I too was wondering what it was as it was developing. Then...aha! Ho-Oh. Wonder how that will change everything?

    Sorry for the short, useless review, but I honestly don't have the heart to try and rewrite the whole thing again (and remember, hit copy and not paste. x_x). Anyway, good job. Next one should be interesting, I'm sure. *hits post quickly before review gets deleted again*

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    It's ironic, I was well known for OMG WE'RE DROWNING IN FREKAING DESCRIPTION. Some things I am delibrately dodging though (Notebly the whole eye colour thing...) but I'll see if I can bash it a bit more. Sure later a lot of things will be, oh THATS why cus if I said everything about him and others now it'd be boring.

    Ho-oH, hmmm, I'll only say it's a sun mark round the eye and it will be commented on at a later point just not for a couple of chapters. Just for wondering sake

    I've killed a lot of what I type too though usually cus the net died while typing. Gotta love the interwebz.


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    I slacked off again. Damnit!

    His name is finally revealed in this chapter whoooo don't have to be lazy with names now. Also has a new insert to fill a minor plothole which was bugging me also. Need to do a floor plan of his place one of these days, his apartment is basic but where this is set there's two floors just not er upwards.

    Also, the chapter titles are subtle hints at things or me poking fun. Morsai is one of my critters and before anybody asks, he is NOT one but it's mentioned for a reason. The italics... think Animorphs and you'll probably work out what they are.

    Looking forward to editting chapter 3 as he-who-shall-soon-be-named and his best friend are in it. How the hell they get on so well I don't know but it's funny watching them together. Whether he does blondes justice or not is another matter but thats for next chapter. Also no, our main man isn't blonde either he's got black hair :3

    There's some missing italics somewhere in this chapter I think, coulda sworn there was some more but can't find it to put the tag on. Pologies.

    ---

    The Reality Trainer
    Chapter 2 – Morsai’s Amber



    It’s been a few days since the exhausted pair stumbled back to the place they dub a home. Helle returned with her Umbreon passenger meanwhile far, far later, which hardly did anything to impress. Apparently she’d gotten “lost” while trying to dodge the fire brigade since of course authority and Pokemon are an extremely bad mix these days; still a poor excuse which he was extremely keen to emphasise at the time.

    Their Master had actually decided to take a little time off work in the meantime allowing for a tepid recovery and ponderings about his promise to Diablo who too was allowed to rest much to his great surprise. At present however, he’s decided to sit on the roof for a while, his legs over the edge as he checks the bandages upon the heavily burned and scarred creature on his lap.

    Any real concern is a bizarre sight for him to show as carefully a wing is eased out; his usual attitude is always to shun all those who share no common ties with his blood unless a damn good reason. Even the guard whose tail is idly being used as foot support shows surprise heavily in her eyes accompanied by the low rumble coming deep within her throat.

    Glancing up a moment, scarlet meets tawny, neither flinching away before his gaze turns back to what is on his lap.

    ‘It’s fine, you don’t need to worry.’

    With that she simply hisses softly in response but still watches with a careful eye all the while assuring that any sound of potential disturbance within her chosen perimeter is not perceived as a threat. For now little more than the odd Stantler seems to pass making an unusually tranquil afternoon.


    Helle was later excused an outing, disguised thinly as a I just want to get you out the house before you do something stupid like set the place on fire, on the one condition that the Umbreon was allowed to get a few herbs and berries he wanted in a, while you’re out there. The gesture wasn’t exactly appreciated on having the elderly tag along yet again but a glared snap told her exactly what any form of protest would get. So after her thirty seconds of “deadly” verbal combat and with no real choice, she left cursing profusely mostly directed at the bemused passenger.


    The hours drag at a crawled pace, seemingly endless in their drudgery beyond the odd pressured paw signalling a place suitable to stop every so often. It is almost as though Yami is deliberately forcing the centaur to go so slowly her hooves would nigh on trip or prompt a need to get to the ground every time a decent pace gets acquired.

    Not that you could tell when, once again, she is carefully placed on the ground with a small herb filled basket and allowed to stomp off where she will. The Umbreon’s face appears expressionless beyond the odd sniff of the air to check this is indeed the correct location. Needless to say there had been a few “accidental” stops, which caused endless rantings with a few scraps of colourful language that was skilfully pokerfaced on every occurrence.

    It is a couple of minutes before all this stop’s berries are placed back in the basket, something that looks oddly strawberry like and a few more resembling hawthorn berries with a distinctive mint tinge. The Umbreon sits beside her horde and looks upwards with a bit of a, well? expression upon her face.

    ‘Is it safe to presume you finally finished dragging your feet? Why he asked you instead of me I can’t understand,’ Helle queries with crossed arms and a glare on her face.

    A nod is her only response before a coughed sound in request to hurry up and pick her up again.

    ‘If you would just choke yourself to death you’d make my day over and over,’ she mutters lifting first her charge, then the basket in her free hand. ‘You’re so useless without help.’

    No answer as usual leaving just the cursing creature to do little more than head for home and hope for less mime like companions on future runs or at least, something she can take her fury out on without being snapped at given the Umbreon’s mysterious immunity.


    Helle appears extremely bored mixed with a distinct trace of tiredness in her movements as she finally gets home back in her sights. Her hooves reach the ground with a weary step soon accompanied by softly spoken curse as a halt is forced. She lifts her head reluctantly to gaze at the creature outright glaring at the far smaller hybrid.

    Immediately her body tenses, trying to ignore the snicker from upon her back as she dips her head a slight proving there is no espionage of sorts at work to the barely audible sound emanating above her. Secretly she curses the disturbing knack this particular beast had for popping out of nowhere despite her grand size.

    It is greeted by a snort before a moment’s silence as the creature seems to think, only then finally making to move away and allow Helle to pass albeit eyeing her rather carefully in the process.

    To say the centaur looks relieved would be an understatement given the beads of sweat clutching to her fur for dear life, her rider stipulated in a smirk prior to the now lessening fear. As Helle begins to walk again, she admits only to herself that though she does indeed fear the Master but his more personal guard? That sheer presence of the serpentine monstrosity could strike fear into even the blindly courageous even without her stern gaze. That is of course ignoring the possibility of deciding to hell with it and either devouring the trespasser or using them for sport.


    Satan, that’s the name beast whose colour resembles stormy skies as they brew, extinguishing all light colour, a name well chosen to given her insatiable appetite for destruction that does more than justice to her species temperament. The Gyarados guard will always be there ensuring that nobody who is not allowed can get anywhere near the innards of their territory or be ready as a faster ride into town should it be required.

    Out of her exact element she may be but that’s never stopped her hiding amongst the trees and being noticed first when her tail strikes or her gaping maw pouring into view. She’s had many years to practice along with abusing her immense size.


    The Master looks up a moment to see Helle approaching but his glance is to Yami specifically and to the basket being held by the centaur. Nodding his head to silent words, he gestures upwards.

    ‘Thanks for getting them, Yami, made things a lot easier. Knew you’d be able to find them.’

    The centaur scowls at being ignored before holding the basket up as high as she can using the wall to give her a bit more height on her back legs before it’s carefully taken with a foot. In turn it’s lifted to his hand’s reach in a very strange ladder like process.

    Growling softly before realising and ceasing the sound, he starts to route round in the basket specifically for a good de-burner as Helle heads off inside muttering under her breath. With a hm, he takes out a Rawst berry before smashing it’s contents with some care onto the most burnt looking areas then begins rubbing in the gooey cream liquid to help resituate the dulled silver. He’s very deliberate in the motion, holding the bird in his left hand trying to avoid any potential ear splitting squawks if it suddenly regains consciousness while his normal right hand becomes immeasurably sticky

    ‘Nebula,’ he quietly murmurs with eyes slightly narrowed as he carefully places part of his hand on it’s back. It’s so strange how sometimes words just seem to slither out your mouth before you can stop yourself speaking yet they seem so perfectly judged as though you really did think first, like an ideal name perhaps.

    ---

    Further hours stretch themselves into the time’s mechanism before anything note worthy happens, the Master having since departed from his guard’s gaze for somewhere much darker and musky than above ground with his new charge. A Skarmory, he was certain now even if it had clearly seen better days. Still, it seemed puzzling why he would feel steered to an almost literal corpse in the midst of a raging fire let alone a bird who hadn’t moved since the fiasco and just lay limp.


    That was until the slightest tremor began to once again dwell within the near hollow body, a wee sound that occurs in first deafeningly long, drawn thuds to start before becoming more rapid and stable. Its body still judders a little, chest moving in time to the beat.

    Tawny orbs eye the bird with predatory precision from the bed he’s sitting on ignoring the fact it’s pitch black in the room out of his laziness to hit the lights. He makes no attempt to move over to the now cleared chest of drawers, showing far more interest in simply watching the newly dubbed Nebula in how the twitches begin as he continues to watch with little more than a frown above his clasping hands.

    His eyes do not miss the first vague wing movement struggling for a grip in rusted movement, nor his hearing the feeble croak sound as its head is lifted. Unfortunately, acute hearing is wonderful until confronted with a high-pitched screech such as that which follows.

    The Master winces rather badly using an arm in automatic defence from the unexpected onslaught of noise, ruining his composure completely until it lessens enough allowing him in turn to outright glare at the hardly innocent in repayment.

    The Skarmory in question can hardly tell what it had done. It still struggles to balance with a pair of flailing wings lacking the usual metal flex, loud clicking emanates from its beak with shrieks of distain at its loss and reliving former pain.

    The final time it had opened its eyes was to a morn of nought special, later closed to a burning carcass before they simply melted out of the metal frame leaving nought more than obsidian nadir carved into its skull.


    And yet through the shadows of blindness springs a colour, pulsating like a heartbeat before shifting to another feeling, distraught and very confused. Surging after is the feeling of being frozen in ice and broiled alive at the same time yet nothing at all, just a muted colour dancing before him where he should not see that begins fading into perfect logic and awareness.

    Ultimately, the bird settles stilling its wings by its flanks with talons spread with muted strength to give balance as though the thrashing around like a creature possessed never happened. Clearly aware judging entirely on how those socket-less voids seem to stare towards the room’s only other inhabitant, judging in silence with far more simple thoughts.

    The Master snaps his fingers and instantly that’s direction is looked at before the Skar turns back towards him, clearly reacting to noise but very aware of presence without it.


    ‘You’re awake at last. Took your damn time even excluding the whole blaze thing… Clearly you have a will to live, an awareness despite from my point of view you can see nothing more than I should be able to in here and you look more dead than alive. Still, it’s admirable that you willingly stand,’ he comments gesturing loosely with a hand before continuing.
    ‘Do as I ask without question, exercise this gift you were granted or be sent back into where you should never have been brought from and you may see what this rebirth will give you,’ the man hisses in an almost soft comforting tone twisted deviously with the malice in his eyes.

    It would seem as though he’d quite happily send the bird back to a re-death, almost if not for the clear curiosity and amusement in his expression for such a strange challenge.

    A dipped head and partially spread wings accompanied by a slight click of beak is his simplistic response. Though not as clear-cut as perhaps a yes, it’s clear it heard and understood perfectly. With his grin, there is clearly a niggling sense of possibilities to him and that of pure gratitude from Nebula’s posture, a thank you indebted rather than a trace of fear most of his lot give.

    Either way, it seemed convincing enough.


    Moving off the bed, he holds out an arm closing his eyes, waiting patiently for the newest arrival to take wing and land with a careful manoeuvre such as preformed. There is no panic or any attempt to escape from its new owner and it seems miraculously unbothered by the limb in which it had landed.

    ‘I can’t afford you your own place right now as still needs renovating and I assume putting you straight into where there is blood playing paint everywhere would be little more than insult after being through a fire such as.... You’ll have to put up with Helle I’m afraid but feel free to torment her as much as you like, it’s nothing less than she has earned,’ he answers gesturing idly with his free hand barely glancing to the bird.

    Truly he’s unbothered what is done between any of those under his control, as long as it doesn’t affect his work or encourage rebellion it’s all free game. That said it’s not like all have quite the mind game facilities of a certain Umbreon does, which are by far the most amusing.

    With a simple beak click in response, the sole human of the residence begins to walk from his room, clearly feeling a little happier in himself that such a good find was made given the slightly twisted smirk. Something unusual yet it’s just brimming with potential, perfect for his needs.

    ---

    It only takes a few minutes to escape the hidden lair and upstairs where natural light is actually allowed to stretch. Short amount of time but enough for a rather disturbing air to start to pollute. His eyes again change for a flicker of a moment, showing traces of red before subsiding. Not a good sign but given an ominous snicker at the back of his mind it’s hardly surprising either that showed up again.

    Yet despite this, the Master seems completely oblivious to what was enjoying it’s self so much. Only indication of anything on his mind is a mildly happier look, which quells his usual irritated frown he usually wears.

    These more contented times nearly always involved a blade to a throat of the nearest idiot for a piece of simple thrill seeking, a truly dangerous smile that perhaps could only ever be witnessed upon a true death knight. Right now it’s not quite a look of planning but a future outcome being predicted to success and still something to worry about.


    Closing the door quietly with his free hand, he heads back into the main room completely ignoring Helle’s startled look as he saunters right past for the spare room. Her surprise at him coming up again so early starts to shift into irritation that the latest charge is allowed to even touch him without a hint of backlash not to mention the Skar even to her looked rather creepy.

    A scowl starts to develop with a look of mild fury, more notably in the way her hackles rise with the flames surrounding her body start to hit squall state by realisation or not. How DARE that thing be anywhere near him! It has absolutely no right to even be up here let alone with him! Her fists clench with clear tension rippling across her back as she glares at the blissful “enemy”.

    ‘It’s rude to stare and you know it.’

    Immediately she forces herself to calm to a more neutral state if unable to subdue the vehemence rippling inside with the same ease. Her disposition turns to a far more wary one given that was not a mere passing remark. The way he eyes her right now having stopped is more attached a beast like that of a wolf or another hunter; that subtle twist of expression before lunging for the final bite.

    ‘Apologies, Master, I was not expecting to see the new arrival soon nor here of all places,’ she replies quietly, moving into a stiffened servant like bow.

    In response he rolls his eyes with a slight disgusted look putting a hand on his hip as he eyes her more carefully.

    ‘If I didn’t do things a little different every now and then you’d become too attached and predictable. I expect while Nebula is here, for how ever many nights it may be, you do not even consider the little fireball act you just preformed. Understand?’

    ‘Of course. If I may inquire, outside a clearly successful capture did it all bode well? I realise you were stuck with the mutt instead of either of us after all so not the best company,’ she asks hopefully with a dipped head.

    His expression instantly changes from that of annoyance to one of utter antagonism with his teeth bared and blatantly looking sharper than they should.

    ‘That “mutt” happens to be more of use to me than you’ve ever been so don’t you dare speak ill of him again. If it weren’t for this Skarmory being so new, eyes or no, I would damn well gladly slit your throat with my wrist!’ he hisses angrily glaring right at her.

    Surprise is her first expression, wide eyed though cowering even more so in body falling into submission. This is something else new; he’d never once got at her for saying that before. What had the stupid creature done to suddenly curb the Master’s notice away from herself!? Infuriating.

    She knows if she was to speak out now, even if just a timid whimper he’d most likely got through with exactly what he just said. His bubbling fury was damn evident even after his swift leave for the spare and well away from her.

    Simply this isn’t to be her day.


    The door gains a brand new crack from the force of being slammed shut with the kick he gives it, his anger clearly evident if starting to ease. The rumble escaping from his throat goes completely ignored despite the distain for his own blood before finally he sighs, glancing to the questioning Skarmory whom miraculously had stayed perched if just moving a little to avoid being clouted.

    ‘She earned it for that remark no question but, I suppose it hardly said much for what I’m like did it? Ugh, there’s just some things I can’t stand and she is growing increasingly one of them,’ he mutters angrily before motioning with a hand round the room.
    ‘Here’s rarely used as it is so good enough. Stay in here for now and give yourself better chance for recovery to get used to what, being blind and formally being treated like a barbeque board. Feel free to do what the hell you will until I come back. For now I just want the world to **** off and die.’

    Dipping his head with a mortal touch, the newly named Nebula flares its wings before taking to the air allowing the now partially stiffened arm to drop in blatant silence. With this, the human decides to take his leave without bothering to look where the flier might land and again ignoring the shift starting to happen again, this time not to his will.

    ---

    How many hours now he spent secluded in the obscurity provided by his real choice of residence over the years? They must surely be dragging by their wrists to heels into thousands now; the seclusion was always a temptation to escape the world that even now is no more different than those younger years.

    His expression is a simple frown with his hands loosely clasped in full sight of his lowered head and narrowed eyes. Though looking a little bedraggled right now he knows not to even consider an attempt to sleep, not unless he wishes to awaken even worse than before with the ever stirring insomnia.


    In the pitch black silence he completely misses the sound of his door creaking open a slight, too engrossed in his thoughts possibly as work left him unable to be off-guard for even the slightest period causing a lingering habit rarely failing.

    Still awake I assume?

    Lifting his head, he eyes the speaker with a stern gaze before answering flatly.

    ‘Do I look asleep to you?’

    Granted, I wished to be sure given your circumstance, more so given your display upstairs.

    ‘You’re speaking normally which is almost disturbing in one sense, what pray tell is bothering you so much you’re actually caring?’

    Your eyes; you’re coming into another session once more. Hardly a wonder why your emotions are all over the place right now. Judging from the amount of amber present, I would say you have only a few more minutes before the worst of it kicks in for the next few days.

    His face shifts slightly in expression, taking on a momentary fearful look as he raises his left hand more into his eye line before narrowing the agreeably dissolving tawny orbs.

    ‘Guess whose gonna be out hunting tonight then.’

    Of course. I do hope you bode well this evening then, Hance.
    Ruler of the Fics.


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  12. #12
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    Weeeereeeeeeeeeewolf trainer.

    8D

    /useless post

  13. #13
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    At least I'm catching up?

    Anyway, nice chapter (I hate calling something as dark as this 'nice', though). The entire Skarmory deal was well done, but I wonder what it will think after a while with him (oh, and his he-who-must-not-be-named is now named, eh?)?

    With that she simply hisses softly in response but still watches with a careful eye all the while assuring that any sound of potential disturbance within her chosen perimeter is not perceived as a threat.
    This was a mouthful, here. Might want to throw a comma in here, or perhaps split it into another sentence.

    ‘You’re awake at last. Took your damn time even excluding the whole blaze thing… Clearly you have a will to live, an awareness despite from my point of view you can see nothing more than I should be able to in here and you look more dead than alive. Still, it’s admirable that you willingly stand,’ he comments gesturing loosely with a hand before continuing.
    ‘Do as I ask without question, exercise this gift you were granted or be sent back into where you should never have been brought from and you may see what this rebirth will give you,’ the man hisses in an almost soft comforting tone twisted deviously with the malice in his eyes.

    It would seem as though he’d quite happily send the bird back to a re-death, almost if not for the clear curiosity and amusement in his expression for such a strange challenge.

    A dipped head and partially spread wings accompanied by a slight click of beak is his simplistic response. Though not as clear-cut as perhaps a yes, it’s clear it heard and understood perfectly. With his grin, there is clearly a niggling sense of possibilities to him and that of pure gratitude from Nebula’s posture, a thank you indebted rather than a trace of fear most of his lot give.

    Either way, it seemed convincing enough.
    This was one of those moments that make me enjoy this fic so much. Unlike so many other fics that I consider good, your way with words always makes everything seem to have a deeper impact that might be the case otherwise.

    Truly he’s unbothered what is done between any of those under his control, as long as it doesn’t affect his work or encourage rebellion it’s all free game.
    I think a word is missing here.

    Anyway, nice job. One thing about me is that some fics I can tear apart and criticize every part of it (if I wanted to, that is). But other fics (and books) really makes the critic part of my mind shut off, letting me really enjoy the fic without running through it for errors and such in my mind. I'm glad to say this is one of those fics (which also probably explains why I'm not great with catching typos and such with this either. XD).

    I'll try to keep up with updates a bit better from now on as well. XD

  14. #14
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    Why oh why is Baron von Blubba music from Bubble Bobble in my head? I ask you.

    Personally I'll be glad when I can properly address Nebula as his gender rather than it all the time (Homg spoiler) but little loopholes like that irritate me so gonna have to wait annoyingly. He'll be out and about soon as he's got his balance back so we'll see then I guess

    Mr. Pokeball ate the , it's my excuse, despite being a completely different universe, and I'm sticking with it.

    Oh he'd act on it all right... Lets hope he never does as that Skar is awesome for freaking out a certain somebody. Wonder how you'd shoot a hollow bird anyway? Now thar's a mystrey.

    Good, things should settle again now so I can start editting my favourite chapter so far. Shenanigans!


    Sandra
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  15. #15
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    Did I ever mention I love this chapter?

    I really do.


    Anyway it's brillant to finally be able to say names now. Jason, in Hance's own words is a "Skirt chasing booze addict who loves girls almost as much and has an IOU the size of Satan, oh and he's an idiot". Yet they get on so well, funny world.

    I also included a dig at one of my most hated songs, I couldn't resist as it drove me insane.

    You might not understand some of the things they're talking about, Hance definately has a very distinct style of talking and often double means words by intention or not. Jason just is, Jason. They've known each other for a few years so as if they're gonna give a damn if nobody else understands

    Their ages have been hinted at in this chapter. I'll say little more than the drinking age here is 18 (Thus getting around Oh hai! My name is Spoon and I'm so and so years old!) and also hence pounds as I honestly find it eaiser to think and write using my home currency than dollars.


    Random Facts:

    Decided to put up some random little plot irrelevent facts every so often for the curious. Because I can.

    According to the Capture Data of Hance Vaithne, he caught his Pokemon in the following order, not including the gap between.

    Magikarp > Gyarados - Satan
    Absol - Hades
    Mightyena - Diablo
    Umbreon - Yami
    Charmeleon > Charizard - Drakcree
    Grumpig - Pluto (Data Error)
    Skarmory - Nebula (Techically he's not caught yet BUT HEY)

    Hybrid - Helle (Data Error)

    These however are info from the Pokeballs hence there are some data errors, and there is one other they won't show either

    ---

    The Reality Trainer
    Chapter 3 – The Reluctant Beast


    Why is it, that for all the miracles in the world that come to the dishonest beggar or a demanding whim, it chooses to completely desert in the face of futurised stupidity? A force of fate’s hand perhaps, to throw that element of uncertainty and grievance to keep those most aware at their best, if in constant irritance.

    Always the venom instead of an antidote; additional company instead of much wanted solitude. Sod’s Law.


    Standing outside the wooden cabin-alike is a rather agitated Hance glaring down a newcomer whom raises his voice almost as much as the Master’s temper which is now soaring within the mixed blood.

    ‘Look, I’m not interested right now all right? I wanted to go out for a while yes but by myself and less so to a freakin’ dodgy night club!’

    ‘You haven’t been out in ages! Sides, I’m bored like hell, been kicked out the house again and everybody is long outta town!’ The other, a blonde, waves his arms in gesture trying to convince his ever so slightly bemused friend.

    ‘Here, I even brought some extra for once so you don’t even need to pay this time!’ His expression stands as determined, over expressive and well, half drunk.

    A blink comes from the original, a serial look of surprise not really becoming of his nature.

    ‘Wait, you actually have cash not ripped of someone?’

    A grin is his first answer before a note is wafted right in front of his face for all to see.

    ‘A 50, to share as long as you take it off my tab.’

    With his own thoughts increasingly becoming so entwined with the foreign instinct crawling across his mind, Hance just couldn’t see a way to turn him down due to the unusual offer set before him. Of course, being the kinda guy he is, the idiot won’t notice his eyes until he’s barely standing for the drink. Always did take most things in his stride if he ever noticed them in the first place.

    But then what are friends for? Not got anything nice to say, threaten them with a loaded gun. It’s efficient enough.


    Eventually a walk away begins in muted silence at first, with just a touch on painful from the faint rumbling bound with the concern of the Gyarados echo as she watches the pair depart. The sound does not completely cease when he waves a hand as some meagre comfort, instead causes her to simply nod and return to her post and watch as the distance grows.

    ‘She’s as bad as Geni you know, just you’d get crushed even more than me if she acted lap cat.’

    ‘I never knew you cared.’

    ‘Ouch, mortally wounded, sir! Still gotta be worth an extra drink for that one I’m sure~’ the blonde replies with a slightly cheesy grin the complete opposite of Hance’s own frown. The intensity and savageness is lost on the genuine hopefulness of sneaking just another pint onto that ever-growing I.O.U.

    ‘Jason,’ Hance begins with a far calmer tone than that of whom he walks with.
    ‘Freebies of any kind won’t be coming your direction until you pay back every single pound you owe me. Doubt you want a personal meeting with my hand to your throat, do you? It is a tempting thought.’

    The dubbed Jason instantly stills and eyes the raven-haired one as Hance continues to walk as though nothing was said. Sighing a slight and waving a hand to calm himself he quickly falls back into step just so not to give anymore excuses for a threat. The whole fiasco has quickly been becoming a routine affair.

    ‘Yeah sorry, but you can’t blame me for trying can you?’

    ‘Given it’s you, it’s a damn miracle you stayed quiet so long.’

    ‘What can I say?’ Jason grins with a true self-promoting look once more and a mock bow to accompany whilst completing forgetting the threat.
    ‘I just am a walking miracle.’

    ---

    It has always felt strange to him, the divergence between the more rural adopted home of his and the urban chaos which hosts the only real way to get wasted as the clock strides on to midnight. T’is where duels with others are held after the cops have long gone home, where most try not to pass out after their fifth shot… Where any slip of the tongue could result in a mislaid blade and a random body part.

    Despite having been brought up in this sort of stint, twice, there would always be an underlying need to get away for somewhere quieter, better food and slightly less endless void dripping in a foul macabre stench. Unique bloodlines do have their downsides in a drug drink haven of the world, or at least one of the many this area alone chooses to offer a wanderer. But the boredom of that quiet will always be there to entice them back, if only for a lingering while to the country’s many little hellholes.


    So far the walking actually in town stands at little more than a good ten minutes, the evening buzz of traffic and the local girls making a pass for nearby drivers in hopes for a bit of loose change for their night out. Most of said ladies trying to mix classy and fashion statements with some serial eye killing clashes in their clothing, chatting and bickering amongst themselves as they queue to get into the higher prestige bars. It does leave the wonder of why half the clothes some of them are wearing do not simply fall off or burst open...

    There is a distinct chill beginning to rise however; seeking to spread and smoother, causing the occasional shiver from the short skirted in show of how far it reaches. But as the day initiates to dusk, the evening begins to don its most nova of worn gowns for the real festivities to commence in style when it too hits the streets, accompanied by a frostier date.


    ‘New one this time, not been open that long but it’s got every look going for it and I’m not just talking about all the ladies!’ Jason laughs already abandoning Hance for feebly attempting to fake walking casually up to the place, vaguely stifling a flat out run and very badly at that.

    His response is little more than an eye roll as he continues to walk himself at a far more sedate pace before calling after the increasingly sober one.

    ‘Better tell them to start running then!’

    ‘I heard that, you miserable *******!’

    There is a slight uneasy touch to his grin as he continues to walk alone with his arms crossed now accompanied seeing as he’s just been given perfect excuse. That of course being an opportunity… and the requirement for some blatant abuse of that little fact for kicks, the distinctive aura of why you don’t give excuses to people with sharp teeth all too evident.

    After all, it’s just a little fun and games between two greats in their art, until all the room’s furniture is “missing”, somebody needs a cast and there’s an angry owner demanding somebody foot the bill for the third time in a week.

    ---

    Busy, very loud, a mangle of darkness with strobe lights ripping apart sanctuaries for sensitive eyes and already a headache starting to migrate upwards with his pulse. Worst. Timing. Ever.

    Jason seems remarkably oblivious to it all, both prior and after he comes back with five pints horded in his arms accompanying the classic lottery expression of glee. Carefully as to not spill the precious, he pokes one of the chilled glasses towards his rather strained companion, completely ignoring the fact his head is on his hand and glaring from underneath his hair.

    ‘Couldn’t they have at least put some decent crap on instead of this ear bleeding trash?’ Hance mutters, barely moving other than to pull the drink closer as Jason sits opposite him already whoring all the other drinks to himself.

    ‘Just cos you have no taste in music doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same, sheesh. Sides it is still early and barely anybody here yet, THEN the fun’ll start. Hell could be a lot worse, they coulda be playing Leona Lewis again…’

    There is a slight tic from Hance as he lifts his head enough just to have some of the bitter taste, one way to check this isn’t just another nightmare stalking around his head. Alas, it still tasted as it always did and Jason already being on his second no doubt going for a new drinking record.


    Of course when even from your smallish table, if all you can see is the sardine movement of people getting just a little too “friendly” with one another, you have to wonder about the sanity of some people cramming themselves in a booze version of a cattle yard. Still, all the better for some random banter is it not as the night grows in age?

    ‘My bets on one more; if one doesn’t come over soon you’ll be on the floor hunting for peanuts in desperation.’

    ‘You suck, you can barely hold down one before you’re out of it anyway.’

    ‘News to me, sides not my fault somebody dragged me out feeling like this is it? Oh and there’s froth on your face. Goatees really don’t suit you.’

    ‘There is? **** hang on,’ the steadily increasing drunk answers looking rather embarrassed. Snatching up a napkin from who knows where, we don’t reeeeeally want to know, before wiping it off glancing back with the now sodden napkin still in his hand.

    ‘That got it?’

    ‘Yeah, shame it didn’t get rid of your face or something in the process,’ Hance replies with a grin much to the look of utter, well the blonde is so out of it that it doesn’t look utter anything to be honest leaning more for mock fury before grumpily downing another mouthful for his third pint.

    ---

    As the midnight genesis comes closer to descending upon the world, The Rohdan Clubette begins to mellow with more sedate music starting to enthral the crowds over the former upbeat pop. Already one girl fainted from the heat and possibly something else, it took a very firm grip with a glare to stop Jason running right over to her “rescue”.

    Just being here is much to his annoyance understandably but that quickly passes when another drink is waved and the simple fact for once his wallet isn’t the one being emptied.


    ‘You said you got thrown out, again, she have anything to do with it? C’mon lets hear the woe tales, I’m really that bored’ Hance asks suddenly, putting a claw tip on the edge his glass. He hasn’t drunk much, didn’t feel up to it really but this was one glass he didn’t want to see made extra clean with company present or worse, spiked with something stronger.

    ‘Just cos you’re jealous that I have a girlfriend and you don’t... Anyway, nah, it was the other ***** getting too hot around her new guy and didn’t need me hanging around and what with work being so quiet and all,’ he grumbles surprisingly coherently whilst looking a tad bored himself clutching his half empty glass.
    ‘Dad’s holed up somewhere and preaching how I should learn to save and **** so getting no cash outta him anymore. Big **** up if you ask me.’

    ‘And yet you had that 50. Anyway, thought she walked out again after Chris’ brother or something along those lines,’ amber asks with a slight quirk of eyebrow. Ah the latest saga, if he spent less time in the gutter head first then maybe he could actually have cash half the time but that’d take more than a miracle.

    ‘Oh wait, yeah she did. Guess I got used to her being round. Oh well, not that hard to bag a good one for the night, not with my charms~.’

    ‘Before or after they’re tagged?’

    ‘You insult me so ****ing low sometimes,’ Jason ends up muttering with his expression turning more sullen, leaning on one hand while stacking up the empty head ridden glasses not even bothering to look at Hance in the face.

    ‘Naturally, somebody has to wipe that smirk off your face. Sides, I’m not the one being self conscious about my hair colour again. You waste so damn much on dye.’

    A mild sigh is his reply at first, a deliberate miss at any eye contact as the blonde flicks his remaining drink.

    ‘Would you mind if I stayed over again? In a few days I mean. Can’t afford much else and what with everybody else out and stuff,’ he asks with the slight hint of sheepish, glancing up finally with his own hazel eyes.

    ‘As long as you stay out of downstairs it’s fine by me, and by that I mean you do NOT steal the gun this time just because it’s “lying around”.

    As if it were possible, Jason’s eyes simply light up there and then; the most relived looking face possible and a following of a ****ing awesome!


    With a roll of eye and a raised hand in a, alright I get it sense, a suitable reply is left pending when he frowns glancing from the dance floor to the bar counter. Some of the newcomers still able to stand remotely straight start to eye someone with hushed whispers and giggles behind the odd martini glass and hand.

    Choosing to poke Jason’s head to get his attention away from his remaining booze with an oi, he quickly motions to where all the commotion brews before he can even start insulting back.

    ‘Hello, ladies!’

    ‘Not them you idiot; the one they’re fussing over and for god’s sake stop looking at the skank’s skirt, ugh,’ Hance hisses distinctly agitated. Muttering a slight at the oooh and before he can take another breath, Jason shoots over to the crowds putting on his usual single guy act.

    ‘Poor them,’ Hance sighs quietly.


    His attention is swiftly lost, so many times had this who fiasco been seen that you could say he almost knew each step, every single little word as much as the blonde did. Drinking the last dregs of his drink before replacing his glass, he just happens to glance up and sees somebody obviously way too young to be in a place like this.

    The worst part of this being that Jason making a beeline right for her in his usual attitude. All smiles and nice one minute till he wants his half of the exchange…


    Truthfully, he wouldn’t normally care that much. Ordinarily, he would act as though nothing was happening and just wait to hear later of how good they were and how much money they were carrying regardless of wanting to or not. Yet, this was bothering him more than usual, a lot more, enough to begin causing the blazes of amber within his orbs to darken as they narrow. A growl already starting despite he would never normally let it slip.

    Carefully moving the glass aside as not to knock it over, he heads right on over to where Jason and the girl are and certainly cooking a storm on his way as he picks through the crowd. Clearly, his presence is being noticed, the way a few people jump back and shuffle away, the sudden silence to their misguided contempt, or heck they may be the unlucky that recognise him and know better of it are most telling.

    Her eyes look a of the more nervy disposition, a little shy while trying to edge from Jason’s corning and his sweet guy act and deliberately avoiding any eye contact with. Of course she couldn’t have seen Hance walking up nor letting his left hand drag across the bar length before eyeing Jason extremely carefully as he goes on mid talk.

    ‘Do her a favour and go sit back down.’

    ‘She’s lost you know, only trying to help,’ Jason answers before fully noticing his expression and even he looks a little unsettled before hiding it.

    ‘Sit.’ A far stronger tone commands, his teeth bared slightly almost purely out of it seeking more control without thinking but for good effect nevertheless.

    Eeping slightly, Jason looks back down to the brunette with the sincerest of smiles.

    ‘Fraid I’ve gotta go back before somebody tries to spike my drink, darlin’. Don’t worry, my good friend is here, he’ll set you straight in no time so don’t go worrying your pretty liddle head.’

    ‘You better get your *** back there before they just “happen” to find out you’re underage and have you barred for life, Jason.’ Hance answers with the same nonchalant tone. He is clearly not happy until he’s absolutely sure the blonde has quickly sulked back to the table, safely under the pretence of a far deadly threat that just bone cracks.

    Well for him anyway.


    Sighing a slight, he lets himself slump a bit against the bar side, ensuring to keep his left arm out the way as he glances over to the younger.

    ‘Sorry about that, he knows better but he’s just had one too many as usual. There a reason you came in here? Hardly a place for your age let alone this hour.’

    ‘I got a little lost and wasn’t sure where to go. The guy outside said to ask at the counter here for directions but then that other guy came up to me… andallthesepeoplestartedtalkingatme,’ she answers, a quiet and rather timid and trying so hard not to look at “big scary man”. She starts to fiddle with the bottom of her blouse as her voice gets faster in an excuse not to look with a faint blush on her face.


    Amazingly his eyes soften slightly, still keeping that harsh tang to them even as her words begin to fumble.

    ‘I’m guessing you were going to a friends’? He asks tilting his head a slight; curiosity can get the better of anybody really.

    ‘Yeah… She lives round here somewhere but Ikindaforgotthestreetname.’

    ‘And now?’

    ‘Um, round the corner, he said, I think,’ she replies quietly, still between fumbling her words and looking at her shoes missing his smile as he holds out a hand.

    ‘I’ve gotta keep an eye on him before he starts chatting up a bouncer or something stupid but I’ll help you get back outside and past this stingey lot, all right? Just remember to run there when out, don’t make yourself liable’ he answers softly contradicting, well, just about every part of him or what anybody is used to. The underlying need to protect had risen so little normally so why the hell now has it kicked in? Chivalry perhaps.

    But the unusual far outweighs the confusion as she takes his held out hand and allowed her to be guided towards the door leaving him growling softly bleached out by the ongoing racquet in the background. He really doesn’t mind at all despite that feeling at the back of his mind, clawing away, screeching of wrongdoing and now less so at the quiet remark he makes back.


    He glances to the doorman, dipping his head in an almost apologetic way as he ushers the girl outside and past all the waiters, glaring right at any stares sending eyes to look elsewhere in a snap. A natural art glaring, and when you have eyes more inclined for a wolven than human, all the better.

    ‘Just keep to the street light and you’ll be fine, most people’ll still be getting wasted at this time.’

    ‘Erm thank you, mister!’ Is his meek response as she lets go of his hand and still doesn’t look directly at his face before she quickly turns on the spot and bolts onto the pavement, fumbling excuse me’s as she passes the increasingly rarer night walker.

    He chooses not to frown for a change but to smile, a slight hmm as he watches as far as even his eyes will penetrate the nightfall. The feeling of having done something to even vaguely ease his conscious better than any psychiatrist ever could.


    Which would leave of course, what would become of Jason after this little incident? A clue perhaps to where that very unnerving grin begins to creep onto his face from.
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  16. #16
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    Makes me ponder; Rue and Chris alive atm?

    Anyways I spotted a typo- more like a bit of a scentence that could have been worded better, but I can't find it at the moment, skimmed over the chapter again and nope, still can't find it. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me, not sure. At anyrate I demand you get chapter four out soon and not let this die again.

    >.> or I'll let Grey at you.

  17. #17
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    Well hey. Very good chapter, nice job. I sure enjoyed it. A nice change of pace from the norm.

    But then what are friends for? Not got anything nice to say, threaten them with a loaded gun. It’s efficient enough.
    I live by that motto. XD

    Despite having been brought up in this sort of stint, twice, there would always be an underlying need to get away for somewhere quieter, better food and slightly less endless void dripping in a foul macabre stench.
    I think that's the odd sentence. Not 100% sure how to fix that one, but I'm sure you can.

    Most of said ladies trying to mix classy and fashion statements with some serial eye killing clashes in their clothing, chatting and bickering amongst themselves as they queue to get into the higher prestige bars. It does leave the wonder of why half the clothes some of them are wearing do not simply fall off or burst open...
    Easily my favorite quote of the chapter. Not sure which I liked more, the clothes or them trying to get into the 'higher prestige bars'. XD

    ‘Just cos you have no taste in music doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same, sheesh. Sides it is still early and barely anybody here yet, THEN the fun’ll start. Hell could be a lot worse, they coulda be playing Leona Lewis again…’
    Heh, I don't think it gets any worse than that.

    ‘There is? **** hang on,’ the steadily increasing drunk answers looking rather embarrassed. Snatching up a napkin from who knows where, we don’t reeeeeally want to know, before wiping it off glancing back with the now sodden napkin still in his hand.
    Love the narrator here. XD

    I quite liked this chapter. Quite a bit different from normal, and I sure got a better feel for Jason. The girl at the end is also interesting. I suppose there is more to him than he lets on.

    You know, reading through this gave me an idea. Given Jason's implied age and the way he is with Pokemon, could he be a trainer that went bad? Not sure, but it does fit.

    Anyway, I've got to say this was my favorite chapter yet, with the bits of humor and the very well-described bar. Not to mention the...I guess I can't really call it CD, but the insight into Jason and all. Nicely done.

  18. #18
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    La~

    Bit shorter, feels filler though it's not as it's a set up for a couple of things. So hard to have mini rants without plot revealing I swear. Still gives a tad more charra incite and I had a total freak out moment when I realised he was going out shirtless so had to fix that bit on continuity. It's ever so minor and I'd probably be the only one to notice but it annoyed me all right?

    I'll be so glad when I can stop calling Nebula it, he's a he damnit and I'll be glad when I can say it, it is hugely annoying.

    Something more interesting happens next I swear.


    Random Facts:

    Hance's birthday is November 28th while Jason's is Feburary 16th and as pointed out last chapter, this makes Hance 18 and Jason 17 at the precise moment and we're in the Jan/Feb time.

    Jason does have Pokemon though uses them in public much more rarely, Geni is a hybrid he owns who under any other circumstance should have been reported for termination, they won't do it however. Geni is also her nickname given Jason isn't very creative with his names...

    I also hope I never have to bring up Jason's on/off girlfriend she's a total ***** and would probably mean the fic requires decontamination ugh.

    [I also think I missed some italics somewhere, might not have but there's always one escapee]

    ---

    The Reality Trainer
    Chapter 4 – Preparations



    Grumbling a slight, Hance shifts into a more comfortable position from the slump on the bed. His head is still spinning a little from earlier more from the sound than that of an early striking hangover. Ignoring the glowering claustrophobia looming over him for a moment, he chooses instead to ponder as he puts a fingertip on one of the emerging bruises on his shoulder in a vague attempt to distract from the stench of alcohol still irritating his nose.

    ‘*******, lucky there’s nothing broke or I’d have hit him a lot harder.’

    Ah the whole justice returned thing… So forcefully had he stormed towards the drinker enthralled as he was when he had punched Jason in the face. All this of course for his little pick up stunt not that long prior naturally with a smirk as the ******* slumped right off his chair and sent a glass to the wind. Someone screamed, probably one of the girls who were just thinking of going up to the blonde before silenced at Hance’s glare.

    ‘What the hell was that for?!’ came a snapped rebuke as he rubbed his jaw whilst sitting the ground.

    ‘Stupidity.’

    ‘Oh you’re so on now!’


    A few hours have passed since that little spat of course, the bruises now rolling out lazily in patches across arms and scaled flesh even if far less than what the blonde is now sporting… still it was only a nightclub so nowhere important. You never know how breakable chairs are, heck even barstools you wouldn’t think till you try walloping somebody over the head with one while yelling some colourful articles of the English language.

    Turns out that even the metal legs snap if used with enough force. One of those fun facts you just have to save for telling the kids when they’re older.


    Hance hms, leaning his head back against the headboard and closing his eyes. This sorda thing happens a lot, true, but he still feels more ****** off than he usually would be before he’d start beating Jason round the head with the nearest movable object... Hell, on this occasion he really did want to break a limb or more if possible. A prowling desire to injure and cause someone to suffer as though he was working despite instead being a very good friend.

    Amber narrows a smidge when opened again, heck the feeling is still there; this lingering temptation hoping for a scrap more to tumble and play with. Shaking his head in dismissal he goes back to thinking if only to cause it to hush a little.


    Images vaguely stir accompanied with comic like sound effects as they flutter swiftly by in distraction, popping into existence for little more than a moment before disappearing back to oblivion.

    Breaking glass.

    Cursing. Lots of.

    Wood breaking.

    Yells, screams, louder and louder.

    The distinctive crunch as a bone crumples in a tightened grip.

    So many pointless words.

    An angry inhuman snarl.


    ‘Wonder if he’ll actually have somebody look at that this time,’ he whispers quietly to himself. Boredom is beginning to set over the thing already, standing as simply too easy for his standard and it’s been and done and no doubt another place they’re banned from.

    I say no personally

    ‘And probably right, but don’t we know better not to bother me at 2am?’ A simple query as he shifts again, nothing that a certain telepath won’t be able to notice in such silence.

    Differences aside, nobody sleeps at this time, not while the night still just as fruitful

    ‘Nobody normal, at least.’

    I don’t believe this town knows the meaning of the word, even if not to your standard… It’s what makes it so fun

    Rolling his eyes at the comment, he seemingly starts to doze as his eyes closes his eyes once more, wondering if he would get lucky, just this once.


    ---


    Frustration emanates in his tone, furious as his fist strikes blindly at the wall.

    ‘The shadows are back, this night is lost!’


    ---


    With a final bow and a drawn out gesture dawn is finally allowed to emerge from their hallowed slumber into the dozing world. Only with the first arriving trickle will he finally bother to get up, insomnia for another day to accompany and no nightshift work due to his “holiday” at present... It all means that after three days even he is starting to look worn and about ready to drop if it wasn’t for pride refusing to give into the necessity.

    Perhaps slightly more normal for someone his age than he’d care to admit.

    Wincing slightly as he moves the bad shoulder into a stretch, he ignores the shirt lying on the bed edge instead making to get the hell out the room for some fresh air that the ground isn’t so gracious to part with.

    The silence is still thickened by the depth muffling even his footsteps to an extent till a sudden growl pierces through the shroud in a faded echo.

    ‘Don’t you start, I’m not in the mood this morning.’



    ‘Hell. No.’


    ---


    His stride is slow, exaggerated without seeming excessive, proof enough that the desire to rest that was biting at his heels is on little more dying whim for now. Nothing at all to stop him seizing one of the Pokemon from their cell and take the chosen topside, nor to head straight to the spare room with the same nuance in expression in the finally fading amber.

    Though he is careful to shut the door with a firm hand, he does nothing to act in silence for the sleeping Helle near the sofa. Hmming slightly with a vague nod to nothing in particular, he diverts towards her before crossing his arms and eyes the slumbering form carefully. Not towards her face mind or anything anymore physical than the way her flank rises and falls with each breath.


    Narrowing his eyes a smidge, his expression slips into a somewhat more dangerous masked style as his teeth slip partly into view.

    ‘No need to look like a corpse just yet, I’m sure you have some more life in you yet.’

    There is a faint mumble in response as she moves an arm to block the growing complement of the new morn. With another quiet word and minor yawn, she then attempts to roll her body enough to allow her to look at the speaker before instantly taking the lesser expression as soon as she realises what she had just done

    ‘Apologies, master, I did not realise,’ she whispers quietly ensuring her head is kept damn low.

    ‘Stupidly yes, you should know better than lying round on the floor unless you were planning to tempt me of course…’ Hance replies, twisting a hand a slight as he very vaguely looks towards her face assuming you can call it that.

    The centaurian blinks a moment before swiftly looking away looking a little red faced, completely misinterpreting what he meant needless to say.

    ‘Again I apologise, I will ensure I do not in future. May there be something that I can do for this to be overlooked a single time?’

    ‘Well I’m sure Satan could be helped, has a pang in her teeth from the last intruder but if you’re not interested in that I’m sure you can find something to feed her given you’re looking so rounded lately.’

    Needless to say the choice is obvious and she is gone like a shot and a clumsy clatter of limbs to a very amused watcher.


    Rolling his eyes as he grabs a shirt from the sofa he chooses to ignore the door slam as Helle dashes outside, a small hmm is all that’s heard as he starts towards where the Skarmory should still be. It will be at least two more days before anything is due to come up, cops are learning to stay away at last assisted by his guard and just about everybody is out of town thus a distraction is nice.

    In effect, this slightly morbid fascination with the bird is nothing more than a riddle of boredom and reluctance to do anything with blood boiling at the thought of stillness. Fun has been proving so short lived these days... Even reading is not presently having the same draw but then getting new material always was a big hassle.


    ‘May as well check him… her whatever before I go, seems fairly behaved for a corpse,’ he muses to himself as he pushes the door open completely unphased by the largely darkened room. Curtains shut of course since he has always been a tad lazy when it came to lights but night vision does that to you.

    The bird instantly locks onto the presence despite, lifting its eyeless head to peer at him from a chest of drawers on which it’s still perched accompanied by a gentle click.

    ‘So you’re still alive, surprising for something half melted. And somehow you noticed without me saying a word I do admit I’m impressed…’ Hance comments with a little genuine surprise in his random gesture before he starts to lean on the doorframe. Instinct was clearly dead on for this being interesting at least.

    Silence is his response with just the scarred creature ‘watching’ intently though for what reason is unclear.

    ‘Hmm, clearly unable to talk but perhaps I can teach you something if you can’t use tone. Obviously have some brain function still in there but I suppose it’s early days. You’re staying in here until I deem it fit to try you out little Nebula,’ he pauses a moment as he thinks before a bemused expression crawls into view.
    ‘Then can see what you can really do, and hopefully not play up to too many clich&#233;s of trying to eat brains or something stupid like that,’ Hance adds with a snicker.

    A soul eating bird WOULD be amusing granted but annoying oh and the whine, the endless whine. But then that’d be more for a little metal vacuum assuming it does have the ability.

    The Skarmory just clicks twice in response, no ability to show expression at what it was just informed or perhaps even the capability for humour but does appear to listen, always appreciated.

    ‘All right, nothing should come into this room except me, you have the right to defend it until I say otherwise… You’re officially a freak of nature so doubt rest will do you any harm. Maybe later have a proper look at you but for now, enjoy your free time,’ he muses aloud gesturing with a hand again in a slight exaggerated bow before going to shut the door.

    If anything could salvage anything from that bird that merely continued to stare in silence till banished from view, she would. In fact, the challenge would probably leave her thrilled at having meatier than harassment to do.


    ‘But for now… Got other enquires to deal with and see if that Rocket rumour is true. Be a good laugh if nothing else and Jason can’t assist and damn what a pity that is,’ he muses again with a snicker as he heads for outside into the light growing world thinking silently all the way with an almost gentle smile.

    Ironically it was Jason who brought this particular subject up between the drudgery of drinking the night before. When all the **** ups upon high had started the ball rolling, many of the former labs for kid starters were abandoned pretty fast for the workers own safety. Inciting rather irrational hatred of science does that…

    Coincidence calls for one to be nearby naturally, nobody travels anymore and be exceedingly stupid to try so there is potentially still something salvageable despite being burned out, what, last month was it? Didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, there’s always something missed that others much better can find.

    Of course it would be foolhardy to think others would not try, it always pays to have insurance and a surprise.


    ‘Come Hades, it’s time for you to stretch your legs and earn your keep once more’, Hance states firmly, awaiting the large greyish beast to emerge from the energy dispersing from the ball he holds tightly within his palm.

    For a moment, the Absol looks slightly bewildered from his release before instantly snapping to the attention of his master before him. With narrowed eyes a soft sol? emanates from his throat in query before awaiting further command.

    ‘No I’m afraid we have to run there; the exercise will do you good. Come, you’ve been left to rot long enough… just don’t lag behind I’m in no mood for the lazy or the idiotic this morning, Helle already put me off such,’ he answers before swiftly turning upon one foot and breaking into a run with the Pokemon swiftly sprinting behind him. This time, he wanted some real fun and the exercise will be a good start.


    And like hell anything was going to stand in his way of a cure for his boredom, not even a rather belated phone call trying desperately to get his attention and yet going flatly ignored all the while...
    Last edited by Zephyr Flare; 23rd May 2009 at 10:16 AM.
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  19. #19
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    bump

    WELL As I pointed out to you already there was some chop n break in the flow or some wrongly used words here and there, and even if it turned out like filler, it's still a good chapter, mostly as I was afraid you had dropped this.

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    You mentioned the typos, not the flow :c But wouldn't surprise me I'm outta practice from not writing in an age then suddenly feeling like it. Then I've not read much either sides from magazines/graphic novels so really need to grab some fiction which likely would kick most of it.

    And drop RT are you mad? I LIKE wreaking things.

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  21. #21

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    I've only read the first chapter so far but I love the gloomy atmosphere of the piece. I think you really portray the helplessness of the Pok&#233;mon. The master is shown effectively as an ominous presence in the background and I look forward to learning more about him.

    However I have noticed a few mistakes. You have written "I lay here" a few times when, in the present tense, it really should be "I lie here." It is a bit confusing but this website explains it very well:
    http://grammar.quickanddirtytips.com...ersus-lie.aspx

    Also, I don't know if it is just me being picky or whether you really should have a capital letter after "..."
    Perhaps it is all right for a stylistic thing.

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    Wouldn't surprise me thars a few tense slips though considering it's a lot lot betetr than it was. Ooiooh was there fail back them, I'll be sure to watch for that one.

    Yeah tbh When mid flow it is a bit of an odd one a it's more run on pause than complete stop. Nother thing I'm probably doing without realising or half doing. So least on a consistancy thing, bleh need to watch it.

    Thanks tho, always nice to have new readers for my rambles.

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    Wouldn't surprise me thars a few tense slips though considering it's a lot lot betetr than it was. Ooiooh was there fail back them, I'll be sure to watch for that one.

    Yeah tbh When mid flow it is a bit of an odd one a it's more run on pause than complete stop. Nother thing I'm probably doing without realising or half doing. So least on a consistancy thing, bleh need to watch it.

    Thanks tho, always nice to have new readers for my rambles.

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