WARNING!
GM is prone to going for the throat. Poke at own risk. Continued poking or complaining in his presence may result in serious character injury or death. You have been warned.
You're right, no one would expect two bug types as a Christmas entry. I've gotta say, I did not think of Santa transforming into a Caterpie, or any Pokemon for that matter. It was very unique.
"To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown
Well there was supposed to be a guest entry this week. Anyhow, I'll have one of mine tomorrow. It's got two Pokemon from different generations who share the same typing. But for today...
In-game Characters
Bruno, Steven, Giovanni, Silver, Professor Elm (2), Brawly, Lt. Surge, Gary Oak/Red (2), Koga, Janine, Professor Rowan (2), Lucas (2), Aaron, Blue, Professor Oak, Warden Slowpoke, Sabrina, Erica, Misty, Daycare lady, Daycare man, Blaine, Bianca, Hilbert
Other Characters
Ashton (Star Ocean 2), Mindy (Animaniacs), Tom and Huck (M. Twain), Sinbad (Arabian Nights), Rosa (Little Red Riding Hood), Kirby
My Notes
Would like to make the percentages list look nicer. Anyhow...
Total percentage is 69% and most of the type numbers are around that figure. Nice. Ghost is closest to completion, Rock is furthest by percentage (Water by numbers). Other than that, I didn't have to move many types around. Fight got boosted up the list several places and Dragon dropped to last. I'm making good progress on the starters, but not so much on the fossils (it's okay though; there's so few fossils that a couple more will push it up near sixty percent).
Kanto, Johto, and Sinnoh are all about 20 Pokemon from being completed! Hoenn needs 27, though. And Unova... well that's only a year in, isn't it? It's over a quarter complete, though, which is good.
For next year, it looks like I might complete one of the older regions. Which one will it be, hmm? Any bets? (not that I have anything to pay off a bet with...). I will definitely cross 500 Pokemon and that will be amazing. I need to boost up the TVTropes page, though.
Not much longer of 2011 left. I hope 2012 is a great year for everyone!
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
Happy New Year! I just hope that this entry does not reflect on how 2012 will turn out. But I still like the story enough to share it with you guys.
Fanfic award nominations have gone up. I didn't say anything last year, but that led to problems. So, if you want to nominate any specific story in POS for an award, make sure it was posted in 2011! I didn't get around in time last year to take out an older entry and it annoyed me.
In process: Servine/Reshiram
On Deck: Deerling/Stoutland, Durant/Heatmor
Carracosta and Omastar
Out in the middle of the ocean, there was an island. It was all alone most of the time, far from any other scrap of land and inhabited only by a few Pokémon who earned trust with the island guardian. It had some coconut trees, some tall grasses, some orchids, some bushes, and a hoard of treasure hidden away in its central lagoon. Centuries ago, the treasure had been left there by an infamous pirate. The only clues on its whereabouts were within a journal that held mostly navigational notes and business transactions. It had gone without notice, leaving the island a tranquil place.
That was no longer the case.
Cannons thundered over the ocean waves. Pokémon capable of flying zipped through the air, attacking the enemies of their Trainers. Below, Pokémon capable of swimming battled it out with each other more fiercely than usual. Even the humans were fighting too, using their technology like cannons and guns to attack each other and the Pokémon. To the south of the island, there were many ships, all decked out in armor and weapons. There was blood in the water, and greed in the hearts.
Technically, there were two sides to this battle. The directions to this island had been found by one person, but that person had told others, who informed two different governments. The leaders of both countries wanted to lay claim to the vast treasure that was supposed to be on the island. Thus, they had both sent fleets to do so. The two fleets met and now they fought. Yet each person in the battle knew of the treasure, and they wanted it for themselves.
On one ship, the captain checked over the battle and noticed that his side seemed to be winning. His country had more ships still afloat than the other. “But I know the Admiral is going to try taking all the credit, when my men have sunk more ships than his,” he muttered to himself. So he took a Pokeball from his pocket and released his most valued Pokémon.
It was an ancient looking Pokémon, with a rough black shell and muscular blue fins. The race of Carracosta was indeed ancient, so much so that they could only be brought back with fossil DNA. But this individual, he was young for his kind, only a couple decades old. He was loyal to his Trainer, even enough to overcome the lure of treasure.
The captain was not so strong against temptation. He pointed out the Admiral’s ship. “Go and attack that one. Make sure it sinks. They are planning on betraying us.”
The Carracosta raised a fin, showing his acceptance of the mission. He then dove off the side of the ship and began swimming through the waters. On his way there, he passed by many aggressive Pokémon, battling each other and seeking out enemies. There were even bodies, of both human and Pokémon. But he ignored all that. He headed for the ship.
On the flagship, the Admiral was indeed giving orders to start turning on the other ships once the enemy ships had been wiped out. By his side, he had his favorite Pokémon with him, a pale blue creature with long tentacles and a large spiked shell. The Omastar was getting restless, shifting her shell about. She wanted to be out fighting too, but her loyalty to her Trainer kept her there until he gave her orders. After all, that was how it always was to be.
Finally, he did have some orders for her. “Go and patrol below the ship,” he said. “I don’t want any saboteurs and you’re the one I trust to do it.”
She cheerfully called out her acceptance of that, then headed off into the ocean. Although she didn’t want the ship to sink, she wanted someone to attack it. Then she could get in on the action.
The Carracosta arrived at the flagship. He knew his Trainer wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But, it was to help his Trainer that he would. He dashed for the ship’s hull, slamming into it with his left forefin. Although it was armored with metal, his actions punched a hole right into it, with cracks spread out from it. He then bit one loose edge and further opened the hole.
Not long after she had started her patrol, the Omastar saw the Carracosta biting through the hull. Pleased and angered, she fired rocky spikes as she swam to encounter him. Carracosta paused in his attack on the ship to hurl a rock at her. He then threw another at the weakened part of the hull, making it more likely to sink the ship. Then he turned to face her.
She quickly dodged his next attack, then grabbed onto him with her tentacles and repeatedly bit him. He flailed in the water, trying to hit her, but often hitting himself as well. But this wasn’t a civilian’s battle. No, this was war, and they were expected to fight until their very last breath, if it came to that.
The Omastar died first, when her shell took on heavy cracks and a sharp edge of it pierced through her skull. But she had locked her tentacles tightly around the Carracosta, especially around his fins. Thinking she was still alive, he kept struggling to get free and attack her properly. He had hit himself too many times to notice that she wasn’t biting him anymore. It wasn’t long before he was dead too. Both sank to the ocean floor, along with the Admiral’s ship.
And the island guardian noticed when the two most loyal and probably most worthy beings on the battlefield died. Appalled at the fighting and betrayal, the guardian unleashed an attack on the whole battlefield. None of them would be allowed to come onto the island itself.
Thus the tranquil and normally lonely island became known as the Isle of Red Sand.
…
Omastar Fire Red entry: Its tentacles are highly developed as if they are hands and feet. As soon as it ensnares prey, it bites.
Carracosta Black entry: They can live both in the ocean and on land. A slap from one of them is enough to open a hole in the bottom of a tanker.
Spoiler:- Um...:
Anyone want to see a follow-up to this one with Deoxys?
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
Pretty good! The whole time I was wondering if the guardian would do anything. And he/she did. It's sad that both died for their trainers. If Carracosta's trainer hadn't been greedy, then everyone wouldn't have died. Greed, it's such an awful thing.
Oh, and I'd love to see a follow up with Deoxys. I'm guessing that's the guardian?
"To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown
I forgot to post this for a while, but here it is. Approved by Ysavvryl. As an added note, the Trapinch refer to Flygon with the title "Shaykh". This is a reference to the nomadic people of the Arabian peninsula before the advent of Islam (called the bedouin), who used a clan structure with leaders known as the Shaykh.
Trapinch, Flygon, and Ludicolo
A group of five Trapinch hobbled across the sizzling sands of the deserts, their heads hung low in defeat. They slowly approached the cave system where dozens of other Trapinch were crawling about in a bustling manner. The quintet continued forward and entered an opening in a sheer cliff face adorned with some carvings over the doorway. Upon walking in, they were met by the dimly glowing light of candles.
The stone hallway opened up to a room with equally desolate and cold stone walls. Coarse sand blanketed the floor. In the middle of the room, a tired old green creature sat on a stone protrusion from the sand and raised its head at the visitors. Two wizened eyes peered out from behind red tinted lenses.
“Shaykh Flygon,” addressed the Trapinch closest to the beast with a low bow of its head. Flygon motioned for him to rise. “I regret to inform you that our efforts to locate the nearest oasis were in vain.”
“Ever since the last oasis vanished, we haven’t been able to find any water,” added another Trapinch.
“And the colony cannot survive only on water which we harvest from hunting the local Cacnea,” chimed in another.
“We come to you for our next task. O wise one, where shall we find water in this blazing desert? We will take any assignment from you, Shaykh Flygon.”
Flygon did not stir. His eyes shifted around in their sockets, observing the loyal Trapinch. These unfortunate beings put so much trust in the wise Flygon, they would readily die in his name. He lowered his head at the group. What was he to do now? Despite his semblance of wisdom, he didn’t work well under pressure and it certainly didn’t help that Trapinch in the colony were on the verge of death due to the water shortage. Deep in pained thought, Flygon shifted his broad, green and red wings up and down slowly through the air. They created a whistling sound which formed a deep rumbling noise, uncharacteristic of the normally cheerful notes that Flygon made with his wings.
The Trapinch didn’t understand the gesture, however. They simply looked up at their leader, eyes full of hope. They couldn’t comprehend the sorrow in his eyes, his disappointment that he had let them down. Instead, they patiently awaited their next task.
Flygon perked up upon hearing an unfamiliar noise off in the distance. It was barely audible, but the Trapinch group listened attentively as well. A rhythmic beating sound reverberated throughout the chamber and was getting louder by the second. The five Trapinch promptly turned themselves around and walked toward the door, immediately forgetting the issue at hand. Curious, Flygon got up off his haunches and slowly sauntered out of his rocky abode.
Outside, all the Trapinch in the colony had apparently heard the commotion and were now flooding the area, turning it into a sea of orange. The beating sound grew dramatically louder out here. Flygon was easily able to extend his long neck over the crowd and observe what was going on. Three figures, almost humanoid in stature, were approaching over the horizon. Their arms seemed to move up and down repeatedly along with the beat which penetrated the boiling desert air.
After several tense moments, the three figures were very close. Each had a hairy yellow and brown striped body and a massive lily pad atop their head, much like a broad hat. The three of them were beating on drums made of wood and membranes stretched over the top, their green mitten-like hands moving up and down through the air hypnotically. Some time passed as these three continued beating on their drums, standing still in front of the crowd. Some Trapinch were moving their bodies or tapping their feet to the beat.
Finally, the visitors finished banging on their instruments in a dramatic finale and were met with the cheers of the Trapinch. Each of them smiled with their duck-like bills and waved out to the crowd. Once the crowd died down, one of the visitors spoke.
“ˇHola, ustedes! żCómo están?”
This greeting was met with murmurs of incomprehension. The visitors were confused at the lack of enthusiasm from the crowd.
“What did he say?” whispered a Trapinch near Flygon. The leader took it upon himself to push his way through the crowd until he was standing before these three pokémon.
“Greetings,” said Flygon. “I am Shaykh Flygon, and this is my colony. We welcome you with open arms.”
“Gracias,” responded the pokémon. “A ustedes son muy simpáticos.”
Flygon frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your language.”
“I do,” called out a Trapinch from the crowd. Everyone looked over as it made its way through to the front. “I can help translate if you want.”
“That would be excellent,” agreed Flygon with a warm smile. He looked back at the visitors. “So, what are your names?”
“Nos llaman Ludicolo.”
“He said, ‘we are called Ludicolo,’” the Trapinch translated.
“Hace mucho calor aquí, no?”
“’It’s really hot here, isn’t it?’”
“Podemos hacer llueve, si no les gusta el calor.”
“’We can make it rain if you don’t like the heat.’”
“Wait, what?” interrupted Flygon in surprise. “You can make it rain?”
“ˇSí!” replied one of the Ludicolo. “Es muy fácil.”
“’Yes. It’s really easy,’” said the translator.
“Well, we would really appreciate that,” said Flygon. “We would be eternally grateful if you could bring water to our land.”
Without a response, the three Ludicolo looked at each other and nodded in unison. They immediately formed themselves into a line and took on focused expressions. The air grew incredibly tense as Flygon and all the Trapinch looked on in eager anticipation.
“Hyaaaaaaaaa!”
The Ludicolo in the middle let out a long, resounding cry. When it was done, it started beating fiercely on its drum with a complex rhythm. Soon, the two Ludicolo on its side began banging on their own drums in sync with the one in the middle. At times, all three of them would let out a cry to go along with the music. Once again, many of the Trapinch began to dance.
Soon enough, once the song was in full swing, the three Ludicolo did a synchronized dance, hopping around on the dirt mirthfully, facilely shifting their weight to each foot again and again.
Once the dance started, the sky began to darken. The Trapinch colony looked straight up to see that the clear blue atmosphere was quickly being replaced by dark gray clouds which swooped in and blocked out the blazing sun. Before they knew it, drops of water were falling down, darkening the sand and splattering on the shells of ecstatic Trapinch. Everybody in the audience was now jumping with the beat of the music.
The beating of the drums continued and the Ludicolo continued to dance to the beat. Finally, the song ended with a thrilling finale and it was raining buckets on the parched landscape. Everybody, even Flygon, cheered at the accomplishment of the Ludicolo. They beamed at the attention and gave low bows to the wild audience.
“Thank you, o kind visitors,” thanked Flygon with an uncontrollable smile. “How can we ever repay you?”
“No tienes que pagarnos,” said a Ludicolo. “Nos disfruta hacer felices a los demás.”
“’You don’t have to pay us. We enjoy making others happy,’” said the translator.
“Well, thank you very much,” continued Flygon, “and I hope to see you again someday.”
“De nada!” replied a Ludicolo with a wave. The trio turned around and headed off into the dunes of the desert. Flygon, greatly relieved, turned around and headed for his room. As he did so, he gently beat his wings up and down, creating a few cheerful notes which reverberated throughout the landscape.
…
Trapinch Fire Red/Leaf Green entry: It lives in arid deserts. It makes a sloping pit trap in sand where it patiently awaits prey.
Flygon Sapphire entry: Flygon whips up a sandstorm by flapping its wings. The wings create a series of notes that sound like singing. Because the "singing" is the only thing that can be heard in a sandstorm, this Pokémon is said to be the desert spirit.
Ludicolo Heart Gold/Soul Silver entry: If it hears festive music, it begins moving in rhythm in order to amplify its power.
Last edited by Gelatino95; 10th January 2012 at 8:01 PM.
I like that guest entry; it's unexpected and the Spanish bits make it fun.
This pair was unexpectedly tough, but probably because I made it that way. The 'dex entries give an obvious scenario and I tried to avoid that. Didn't manage it entirely, but this works nicely.
In process: Deerling/Stoutland
On Deck: Durant/Heatmor, Zorua, Deoxys
Reshiram and Servine
There was a certain level of power which, if one crossed over it, things became terribly unfair. For instance, Reshiram could tell any lie, which inconveniently tended to get people to hate him even though he was simply doing what came naturally. Also, he could torch a hundred acres of forest in minutes with just a single flare from his tail. He often spent energy intentionally weakening his power, because otherwise he’d have the whole land turned to ash before long. And that wasn’t fair to the mortal Pokémon.
He also spent a lot of time keeping away from most others. That was pretty fair; others could still seek him out and if they did, they probably knew what they were coming up against. Probably. There were some idiots on occasion that challenged him to battle. When that happened, he generally made sure that they could walk away from the battle alive. Or that they could be carried away alive, if they were stubborn enough. But those who really wanted his help knew where to find him.
Yet, being in self-imposed exile was tough on the spirit. He got lonely from time to time, even though his sister dropped in fairly often. And the mortal Pokémon who visited tended to be overly rash or overly deferential. Then there was the matter of always being on the same mountain, day after day, month after month, year after year. That got to one after a while. Reshiram knew that for truth and did his best not to do something foolish. But sometimes, one just had to get away from getting away from the world. To keep from going crazy, of course.
That’s how he came to be here, at a lake in a forest far from his mountain retreat. There was a festival going on in a town not too far from here, so many of the local Pokémon had gone to town for the day. While he did consider checking out the festival only from a discreet distance, Reshiram was more interested in the lake right now. It looked to be fairly nice; a bit dark, rather deep, but that was lakes for you. Seeing that things seemed okay, Reshiram dropped into the water to get himself a bath.
What few Pokémon were still in the lake quickly scattered, through underground water tunnels or out through the trees. They weren’t sure what was going on, but they figured it was better to avoid the large stranger that radiated power so strongly that his tail and wings glowed through many stages of red, like the northern lights. Reshiram was a little disappointed that none had tried talking to him, but that was a pretty normal reaction. Pushing it out of his mind, he tended to his grooming.
It was some time later when he heard the rustling of leaves, indicating that something was running towards him. Lifting his head from the water, he turned to shore and saw a reptilian Pokémon: bipedal, with thin short arms, some leaves on the tail, light green scales. There were several who could fit the description, but he soon pinned it as a Servine, a male. The green Pokémon rushed out across a large rock and leapt at him. “Begone, foul beast!”
Reshiram saw a flicker of green and leaned his head back, although not in time or far enough to avoid getting hit by the whip of a vine. It stung briefly, but he was certain it wouldn’t even leave a mark past an hour or so. Although he hadn’t expected to be attacked, he didn’t get angry. It was most likely some misunderstanding. That, and the Servine had crashed into the water, quickly flailing about as he did so. Reshiram watched as he hurried to swim out and climb onto the rock.
“Blast, where’s the bottom of this lake?” the Servine asked, irritated.
“Further down,” Reshiram said in a ‘I’m helping, but not really’ kind of voice. It was a pretty deep lake; he could submerge his wings fully. All in all, it had been rather relaxing here until the sudden attack.
“I can tell that,” he snapped, turning to face him. “Now, Mr. Wise Guy, I am here to bring you to justice!”
“Pardon?” Reshiram said, but by then, the Servine had zipped off into the undergrowth and virtually disappeared. Shrugging, he went back to his bath, deciding to rub his head and upper neck against the large shore rock. It wasn’t like the pumice he had back at his usual spot, but it was good enough.
A couple of minutes later, there was a shaking of leaves. He looked up in time to see the Servine back on the rock. “Hah!” he shouted, flicking small seeds at him. Leech Seeds; they would send many thin roots back to the Servine, allowing it to drain energy from him.
But it also had the effect of hindering movement a little for both sides. Reshiram thought of heat. In response, his inner flames appeared outside, torching the Leech Seeds into uselessness. If he really wanted a battle, he wouldn’t do that in order to be fair. The water around him bubbled a little as thin steam curled out.
“Hey, what was that for?” the Servine asked, half-shocked and half-angered.
“It was rude of you to interrupt my bath with a battle,” Reshiram said. “Why would you do so?”
Now he turned indignant. “Rude? You’ve been terrorizing the woods for months now, and we’re not going to stand for it any longer.”
Slightly puzzled, Reshiram said, “I believe you have the wrong Pokémon. I have only arrived here today.” Really, what was he being mistaken for?
“You lie! You try to be sneaky and sly, but I’ve been investigating you. You can’t hide any more!”
“I couldn’t lie if I tried,” he replied. And that was true. Untruths grated against his soul, like nails screeching across stone, or slow rain falling on a fire, or a rotten berry among ripe.
The Servine growled. “Stop being a coward and fight.” He attacked with his whip this time, helped in that Reshiram was closer to shore than before.
He remained calm, though. “If you wish.” He then snatched at the Servine, gently picking him up by the torso. Then he swung his head around, flinging him across the lake. Skipping once off the surface of the lake, the Servine cursed as he landed back in the water and had to swim out again.
Pity he hadn’t been the right shape to skip all the way across the lake, Reshiram thought. But once had been good. He waited for a bit, but when the Servine didn’t come back immediately, he went to finish off cleaning.
The Servine came back several minutes later, along with a few of his kin. “There he is, that’s the troublemaker,” he said. “You’d better watch out now, punk, cause we got you outnumbered!”
“He might be the one wrecking stuff,” another Servine said.
Reshiram sighed. It was worse than those rash ones that climbed his mountain; at least they had some kind of idea of who they were challenging. As he was done with the lake, he beat his wings and rose out of the water. It was a tough take-off, what with the water resistance and the extra weight in his soaked fur. But he had no intention of flying like that, just getting over to the large rock and landing there. He shook his body, spraying water droplets all around.
The Servines skipped back, trying not to get hit. “Or he might not be,” the one said.
“He is rather too big to go unnoticed,” a third said.
“And rather too bright.”
“But he threw me across the lake!”
“I told you that I was just here for a bath,” Reshiram said, settling down on the rock and increasing his heat output. It would help him dry off quicker.
“Sorry about him, great one,” one of the females said, bowing. “He gets ideas in his head and doesn’t think them through much.”
“I understand.”
And the Servine in question didn’t even flinch at the insult, looking more surprised. “Great one? Why’re you calling him great one?”
“You can’t tell?” she hissed at him. Then, speaking up again, she asked, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“I am Reshiram, Dragon of Yang, Herald of Truth.” He’d gotten more titles over the years, but those two described him well enough. “I’m out seeing the world.”
“Oh really?” the rash one asked. “If you’re a herald of truth, then can you tell us who’s been wrecking homes and crops all over the forest lately?”
He nodded. “I could. But I don’t think I will.”
“And why not?” he asked, although the others all hissed at him for being so argumentative
“You’ve been exceptionally rude to me today, so from my point of view, it’s not a vital thing to look in to.” He yawned, more to show his indifference than in being tired. “But if your peers would bring me a few apples, I might consider things differently. Not you, though.”
“We’d best leave him be at the moment,” one of the other males told the rash Servine. “Come on, let’s go.” They more or less dragged him off back into the woods; bit of argument and the crunch of footsteps floated through the trees.
Destroying crops, huh? Well from what he’d seen in flying in here, a request for a few apples shouldn’t be too difficult. But if they came back and honestly told him that there weren’t any to spare, he’d accept a spoken apology and use his power to find the truth.
Not knowing how long they’d take, Reshiram tucked his head under his left wing and rested there, surrounded in his own heat. He had left his mountain to keep himself from going crazy with solitude. But sometimes you came out and discovered that craziness was waiting for you anyhow.
…
Servine White entry: They avoid attacks by sinking into the shadows of thick foliage. They retaliate with masterful whipping techniques.
Reshiram Black entry: This Pokémon appears in legends. It sends flames into the air from its tail, burning up everything around it.
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
I loved that entry. Reshiram's character really dictated that he was above the petty troubles of the forest pokemon, though he wasn't necessarily supercilious about it, but rather indifferent. Maybe that mentality arose from being on top of the mountain in solitude for so many years?
Also, I appreciate how the pokemon here act realistic. The average Serebii writer would assume that fire-types like Reshiram would be naturally averse to entering bodies of water, but when you think about it, many fire-type pokemon are merely creatures with fiery powers. This is especially true of Reshiram, which doesn't have any visible flames on its body.
Good entries! I liked the guest entry, it was really fun! I loved the history reference with the Shaykh. Rather fitting, since they live in the desert.
The Reshiram and Servine one was good too. I loved the Servine's enthusiastic behavior. It was rather funny that he didn't know Reshiram, a legendary Pokemon. And rather stupid that he'd battle a fire Pokemon several times its height.
"To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown
It was rather funny that he didn't know Reshiram, a legendary Pokemon. And rather stupid that he'd battle a fire Pokemon several times its height.
In his defense, Reshiram had been secluded on a mountain for years and doesn't exactly look like a traditional fire-type. As for the height... I got nothing.
@Eeveeon8: Just check the first page index and see what's not in white!
I seem to have a thing for shipwrecks lately... it was in the backstory for a recent RP character too. I think I probably slipped up on Richard's accent, but all well.
In process: Durant/Heatmor
On Deck: Zorua, Deoxys
Deerling and Stoutland
It was a soft spot to be, if damp. She took a deep breath and smelled the salty water, the earthy fur, the woody herb… the last being herself as a summer Deerling, the fur belonging to the Stoutland she was riding, and the first being the ocean. Filling the air, there was the constant slow movement of the currents, along with the quicker yet still constant paddling of the dog’s legs. Heh, doggie paddle… it wasn’t very funny.
Dinah opened her eyes and looked at the back of her rescuer’s neck. Lifting her head up, she could finally see the shoreline. It was some relief, but not enough to cheer her. “How long have you been swimming, Richard?” she asked.
His ears lifted a little, but he kept looking straight ahead. “Dun worry none about that, lass. I’ve been pacing myself. We’ll get to shore in good time. I even know this place; wait a bit and we can be in a nice inn, all dry and safe.”
“That’s nice,” she said, although not spirited. She lay her head back down; her legs were feeling twitchy from lying down so long, but there wasn’t anywhere to get up and walk around. “I can’t believe it ended that way.”
“Who said anything about it ending? We’re alive, and you’ve still got that magic talismum thingamabob.”
That. Dinah looked down at it, a strange infinity symbol in gold, with a prismatic crystal in the center. When one looked through the spaces inside, one would see things in the near future, the possible results of doing things. it had seemed like the most amazing thing when she’d found out how to use it, but now it seemed like a curse, making her the focus of those with evil intentions. “But what about everyone else? They’re all gone.”
“Now we don’t know that,” he replied, still swimming along.
“But you saw how bad that wreck was!” People who were willing to destroy a boat with hundreds of Pokémon on it, just to get the talisman from her, that was what it had brought her. It had been bad enough when they wanted to just kill her, forcing her to hide in unfamiliar territory while they walked nearby, speaking of how they’d hide her body and what horrible things they’d do with it. “It was an inferno on the ocean, in a million pieces. We barely got away.”
“But we did get away,” Richard echoed. “Other’s might’ve done the same, and the ocean Pokémon are pretty good about rescuing land folk. But it’s big out here, and the sun rose not that long ago. I might’ve missed ‘em swimming out here too. And we ain’t the only ones who want to see a revolution. We can meet some new friends, find our old friends, and get back on track.”
“I’ll just end up causing grief again,” Dinah said. The shore still seemed a long way off. “I’m not strong enough to make use of the talisman. I should just give it to someone like you and go back to the mountains.” Back where she knew she was safe if she just hid in the grass.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Miss Dinah,” he said, swishing his tail and flicking water around. “I feel like the thing came to you for a reason. You have a way with people, getting them to do things they wouldn’t normally do. We’ve made a lot of progress now because of you.”
She gently bumped his neck with her head. “You’re too nice, Richard. I’m just not sure anymore. I thought I could be a hero by using the talisman to make things better. But I didn’t even see that attack coming, and I’m the weak one in battle. I try to make others happy, but is it really that much help?”
“Course it is,” he said. “Maybe you ain’t the greatest in battle, but not everyone can be. But you do give us hope that we can have a brighter future. And you make people feel good about what they’re doing, even if it is dangerous. Cheer up; no need to look sad.”
“You can’t even see me like this,” she replied.
He lifted his head some, then said, “True, but you know what I mean.”
Dinah sighed. This had all seemed like something wonderful when she’d first figured out how to use the pendant. With it, she could stop people from getting hurt, or know what to say to encourage them. But then there were people who wanted to abuse it, and there were attempts on her life… and now this tragedy, where she didn’t know if anyone had survived other than her and Richard.
Continuing to swim, the Stoutland said, “You know, I’ve been around a while, seen a lot of things, and from it all I’ve learned many things. Like with a hero, I don’t think the hero is the one who battles the best, or is the strongest. Or even knows the most. A hero is the kind of person who does something to change things when no one else will even try. A hero is someone who does something good even if it’s tough, or who encourages people to realize that they can make things better if they stand up for what’s right. It ain’t easy, I know, and it’s tempting to give up with things are looking so dire. But if you stick with it to the end, then it’ll be worth all the trouble.”
“You think I can really change things?” She put her head down on his shoulder. “I haven’t been anyone special until the talisman showed up.”
“You already have been changing things, and I think you could even without that thing. It just helps. And I’ll be here to help you; I won’t let them hurt you.”
Maybe she wouldn’t be a hero without the talisman. But since she had it, maybe she could prove herself worthy. It would be nice to know if others had survived the attack to. “Thanks Richard. When we get to land, we can search for others.”
“That’s the way! We’ll get things set right.”
And so he kept swimming to shore. If he was willing to swim for most of the night to get her to safety, then surely she could brave the threats and bring the fellowship back together again.
…
Deerling Black entry: The color and scent of their fur changes to match the mountain grass. When they sense hostility, they hide in the grass.
Stoutland White entry: This extremely wise Pokémon excels at rescuing people stranded at sea or in the mountains.
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
Oooh! This is one of your best, I can tell! Do you think you could expand a little more on this, cause it sounds so exciting! An item that lets you see the future... a bit mystical isn't it? And it's not a crystal ball this time! I always imagined seeing the future takes skil, so I hate it in T.V when they make the fortune tellers do it so easily.
I loved Richard's hero speech. It's absolutely true, what he said, and inspiring. And Dinah was really fun character. I like her!
"To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown
Heh, I hadn't seen the LotR connection when I wrote it; I was struggling to come up with a group name that was kind of vague but still gave an idea of what it was, and ended up on fellowship.
Anyhow... okay, so this story is predator-prey themed, so that's the warning.
Now would be a good time to request.
In process: Zorua
On Deck: Deoxys
Heatmor and Durant
Once upon a time, there was a hungry Heatmor named Tom Reah. Much of the time, he lived off of small nuts, acorns, and non-Pokémon bugs. But these things weren’t filing, and to him, they were bland. What he would really like was a Durant. It took a little while to crack their shells, but they were so tasty, especially when quick roasted. However, some bad experiences had turned Tom off of Durant hunting for a while.
Until winter came. He had made a stash of nuts and acorns but even in the fall, he knew he couldn’t gather enough for the full winter. Tom had to keep his internal fires going so that he could stay warm in the cold. Even as he made the decision to try hibernating, he just got more restless and more hungry as the hours went by.
Finally, he couldn’t stand it any more. The acorns are tasteless after eating them for a full month! He kicked his box of them, making an unsettling rattle as there were so few of them. He thought he’d get into his box of nuts, as they at least were somewhat nice to eat after he’d toasted them a little bit. But when he checked in the cubby, the box was gone! Nothing but a dead leaf there now, which he wouldn’t try eating unless he was really desperate. Tom hunted frantically around his little home. Not under the shelf, nor under the table. It wasn’t under a rock, by his nest, in the woodbin, or in the TV cabinet. The box of nuts was completely gone, leaving him nothing but a small pile of acorns.
This was not good; he was going to starve. With no clue of where to find the nuts, and with all the little bugs gone, that left trying to catch a Durant. It would be hard, but he didn’t see any easier choice. So Tom left to find the Durant nest.
The Durants lived in the side of a nearby cliff, digging through the earth for the minerals they ate. Tom got there and found some cover in a bush. While leafless, there were enough branches to obscure him a little. Better than nothing. From there, he could see some Durants working, removing wastes from their tunnels, fetching branches, even a small group that seemed to be playing music. They were all in groups though, at least two together. That would make it harder on him, as if he caught one, the other would attack.
And then he spotted one Durant that was alone. He had come out of a hole with a walnut in his jaws. The Durant then proceeded to crack the nut open and eat it, apparently not bothering to work like the others. Around his neck (well, the connection between his head and abdomen), there was a checkered blue kerchief.
Ah, that was the ticket! A lone Durant, apparently lazy. Twitching his snout as he was pleased, Tom began sneaking around the bushes and snow piles to get closer to the Durant. If he moved quick enough, the others wouldn’t be able to interfere. And they were naturally slow.
The Durant finished the walnut, then started gathering up snow. Tom waited until he was certain that his prey was distracted… and then he jumped out and blasted the steel-armored ant with a stream of fire from his snout. It took quite a bit out of him, but it would be worth it.
Somehow, the Durant seemed unimpressed. He hurled half of his walnut shell at Tom, hitting his eye right on. Tom yelped at the pain and closed his eyes, patting the injured one with his paws. Was it bleeding? Then a snowball smacked him in the face. The Durant gave an irritating boastful laugh.
After wiping the snow from his face, Tom cautiously opened his eyes. He could still see, so he hadn’t been blinded by that shell. Off in the distance, he could see other Durants watching him cautiously, but not bothering to interfere. Where was that one with the blue kerchief, though? With the way he had laughed at him, Tom would be glad to eat that one.
He knew where the one Durant was when he stuffed the other half of walnut shell into the hole on the end of the Heatmor’s tail.
Not good, not good! He breathed through his tail! Gasping for breath, he twisted himself around that grabbed hold of his tail. The shell was in there good, enough to choke him. Tom managed to get a hold of it and yank it out, even though it scraped the sides and hurt. But once it was out, he could start breathing again. He heard that irritating laugh of the Durant.
Now he recalled why exactly he had stopped hunting Durants. Feeling weak with hunger and dizzy from the choking, Tom sat down on the ground. Back in early summer, he had been hunting some Durants when one of them dropped a boulder on his head from the top of the cliff. Not a rock, a freaking boulder that had easily been bigger than he was. And then made him run across a bunch of sharp sticky thorns. And then tricked him into falling into a lake. That Durant had laughed in that same prideful manner. Was it the same one, or were all Durants like that? if they were, he had to wonder how his ancestors managed to survive by primarily hunting them.
He heard a clicking sound, so looked down as saw the Durant with the blue kerchief. Tom’s eyes went wide and he thought of running back to his home; he’d find a way to survive on bark if it meant not dealing with this Durant any more. However, the Durant offered him a bouquet of flowers, a bunch of white daisies nicely tied up with a red ribbon.
That was… weird. Tom picked up the bouquet. Was the Durant apologizing? Why? He flicked his tongue across the flowers and realized that they were fakes, made of plastic. Obviously; where would he get daisies with all this snow on the ground? But the bouquet was hissing oddly. Looking closer, there was a spark there for some reason, attached to some red cylinder. It seemed like something a human would make… no, wait, it couldn’t be…
BLAM!
It was a stick of dynamite, leaving Tom stunned and covered in black ashes. The Durant laughed in hysterics.
This was not right. Something stirred in Tom. Maybe it was a feeling of being dealt with unjustly, or maybe it was a cry from his ancestors not to take this from some lowly prey. Or maybe it was just a combination of being hungry and desperate and having just taken an exploding stick of dynamite to the face. That laugh was mocking him, mocking him! He got so angry that he kicked the Durant into the wall hard, then blasted him with the most powerful fire he could muster. It left his natural fire feeling spent; he couldn’t recall using a move like that at all before. After leaving a sizable scorched dent in the side of the cliff, the Durant clattered onto the ground, his kerchief all burnt up.
Was he dead?
Well that would finally get him a decent meal. Tom snatched up the Durant, then rushed back into the woods. He didn’t want the others mobbing him.
Despite that attempt to get away, he was still feeling weak and couldn’t run far. Even after he’d had a decent meal, he found he had to rest before he could get back to his home. That was how the other Durants caught up to him, eight of them in all. Strangely enough, two of them were packing along a distinctive box that was green and yellow in a jagged pattern. That was his box of nuts!
Tom was scared at first of the group of them; even if they were weak to fire, a group of them could overwhelm larger and tougher Pokémon than him. But as it turned out, the Durant with the blue kerchief had not been popular in their colony. In fact, he was a jerk who would do bad things to others and laugh at their misfortune. He had come back with the box of nuts just yesterday, showing it off to the others, teasing them with it, then not sharing a single nut. So they were glad he was gone, enough that they were going to give the box of nuts to Tom.
And if he would give them a little fire to help them keep their tunnels warm, and promise not to kill any of the rest, then they’d help him get more nuts to survive through winter. All things considered, it was a good deal. Tom agreed and settled himself for a nut-based diet.
At least for the winter. And there was always the possibility of finding another colony.
…
Heatmor Black entry: It breathes through a hole in its tail while it burns with an internal fire. Durant is its prey.
Durant Black entry: They attack in groups, covering themselves in steel armor to protect themselves from Heatmor.
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
Loved the Durant and Heatmor story. Got to agree that the ending was rather unexpected, but I love happy endings anyway.
And if you're taking requests, I absolutely must hear an Archeops story. Feel free to combine it with whatever else you wish; I just want to hear about Archeops.
Heatmor got blown up by a stick of dynamite...that was funny! A real classic, but I'm concerned on where that Durant got the dynamite.
All in all, this was a good one! I liked how they made a truce in the end. Good for Heatmor.
Oh, and can you do Latios, Kyogre, and Groudon? You don't necessarily have to put the all together in the same story, they can be in different ones with different Pokemon.
Last edited by floracat; 28th January 2012 at 3:52 PM.
"To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown
It was cartoon dynamite, which is perfectly capable of coming out of nowhere. Well that got my to-do list filled up. Kyogre/Groudon got boosted up to after Deoxys as it had another request over at FF.net. That makes four legendaries coming up!
So we go from a silly cartoony story to this...
In process: Deoxys
On Deck: Groudon/Kyogre, Oshawott/Yanmega, Sandshrew/Grimer, Archeops, Tynamo, Latios
Zorua
Babump babump babump… her heart seemed to be pounding rapidly in her throat. She set a paw down and stepped on a dry leaf, making it crinkle. Her nerves went all rigid as her black fur stood on end. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to whine and cry, but then she would be caught too. She pulled her paw back and crouched down under the bush.
Just beyond the cover, there was a human there with large heavy boots that kicked up dust every time he put his foot down. She could see those boots with those metal spikes and smell them with their mud and leather. He laughed, making her shudder. “Now that makes this trip more than worthwhile,” he said proudly. He set down a black and grey sphere in a shallow cup that was attached to another human device. That one made some noises, causing a light to appear near the sphere. Then the man walked off a few steps.
Babump babump.
Her jaws moved slightly, trying to cry out but not wanting to. She was going to be all alone now and she didn’t know everything she needed to to be on her own and there were some scary Pokémon around and scary humans and all alone! What was she supposed to do? The man was still there, but he wasn’t quite looking. Maybe if she took the Pokeball…
Babump, babump.
The other option was living all alone.
Terrified of that, she hurried out of the bush as quickly as she could; the rattling of the leaves caused her to move quicker as she got up on her hind paws and tried to get the Pokeball. But she simply couldn’t grip it like that, as it was too smooth and her trembling paws were too small. So she focused on her inner power and transformed into a small human. Her new form was like a girl she’d seen not too long ago, with a pretty light dress with ribbon bows and larger bows on cute shoes. But she wasn’t as skilled at making her transformed state have color, so the hair was dark gray while everything else was some form of gray. She could pick up the Pokeball easily as a human.
“Hey!” the man shouted in a booming voice that sent shivers straight to her bones. “Put that back, kid!”
She gripped the ball in both hands and ran, her heart continuing to race. Hearing his heavy boots behind her, she hurried on blindly until she shot out of the forest and onto the hard road that the humans used. There was nothing to hide in now, as there were large fences along most of the road. What did she do now?
Before she could find a place to hide, she heard a roar to her left. It was one of those things that humans rode, with two large wheels, a bright light in front, and an awful stench belching out behind. And it was coming her way. With the man in heavy boots behind her, she bolted to the right, following the crooked path of the road until she came across a building.
There was so much light in there. There were lights out here in the road, but there were still shadows to hide in. In there, it was all light. And all enclosed, with the sky completely blocked off. Even worse, there were people inside.
“Give back that Pokeball, thief!” the boot man roared, still running after her.
At least those people weren’t mad at her. She ran into the building, rushing right by humans who were all twice as tall as her human form. Some of them cried out; one yelled at her for doing so. Thankfully, there was another wide door leading back outside, straight across from the one she had gone through. She kept running, hoping to find another forest.
And found a city beyond that. There were even more lights here, in all kinds of colors like blue, red, orange, and white. Some of the lights were even powerful enough to reach into the sky in fully visible beams. There were fences and buildings and poles and flags and so many human things that bewildered and terrified her. But there was also a lake, behind a fence, with some bushes alongside it.
She ran until she came to a shadowed spot, then went to the fence and squeezed herself through the bars. Then she crouched down by the bushes, which were formed so straight and regular that they almost didn’t seem real. From there, she watched as the boot man ran by, stopped, then chose the wrong direction to keep running and yelling.
She’d escaped him. Relieved, she clutched the Pokeball to her chest and stayed like that for a moment. Once her heart had calmed back down to normal, she examined the ball. How did she get it open? There was a line between the black and gray but when she put her fingernails to it, she couldn’t find a place to grip and pull it apart. She squeezed it and nothing happened. She turned it around and around, trying all the lines to find a place to pull it open. Nothing seemed to work.
Whining, she patted the Pokeball, wishing it would work. Then it slipped from her fingers, hitting the dirt. Her heart skipped a beat as she tried to grab it, but it had started rolling down the slope. And it went right into the lake.
She cried out and plunged in after it. The lake turned out not as deep as she thought it was, but she was still soaked when she pulled the wet and muddy ball out. And it nearly slipped out of her grasp again, so she clutched it in both hands tightly. What now? She was so close and yet still alone. Not wanting it to fall back into the water if she lost her grip, she went back through the fence and started to head back for her home forest.
“There you are!”
Oh no! Her heart started racing again as she realized the boot man was standing between her and the building that led back to the forest. She turned and ran quickly, in such a panic that she didn’t notice the other human until she ran right into her. Not only that, but the Pokeball slipped out of her grip once again. Not wanting to lose that, she scrambled onto her knees to get it back.
“Don’t let her get away again,” the boot man said.
“What’s going on here?” the woman asked. When she looked up at her, she noticed this human was tall and thin, wearing an odd hat with long dangly things coming off it. An Emolga glided around her, eventually coming to land nearby. He seemed to be with the woman in the dangly thing hat.
“That little punk stole the Pokémon I just caught,” he said, his face snarling.
Babump babump. She burst into tears, whining and keeping the Pokeball close. She could sense the power from the Emolga, so he would surely beat her if they tried ganging up on her. After all, she was only a few days old.
The boot man started walking towards her, but the woman stepped between them. “What exactly did you just catch?” she asked.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked. After a pause, he said, “A Zoroark. I know I’m not going to get lucky enough to get another one there any time soon.”
“You seem to have caught this young one’s parent,” she said. “This is a Zorua.”
“That’s…” the boot man looked at her, hesitating. “I caught it fairly.”
“You’d separate them? Even if you meant to catch her too, it seems you’ve already earned her distrust.”
The boot man clenched his fist; she whimpered.
The woman with the dangly thing hat went up to the boot man. “Here, I’ll cover the cost of the Pokeball…”
“That’s much less than what that Pokémon is worth,” he insisted.
“Just the Pokeball,” she said sharply. “As you failed to observe the situation long enough to know that the Zoroark was likely protecting a cub.”
“All right, but I’m still going to issue a complaint against the League.” The two humans did something, then the boot man left.
The woman then came over to her. “Don’t worry, little girl,” she said in a kind voice. “I’m not going to hurt you or catch you. If you give me that Pokeball, I’ll let your parent go.”
Uncertain, she whimpered and clutched the Pokeball defensively. But the woman was being nice and she’d gotten rid of the scary boot man. So she reluctantly passed the Pokeball over. The woman then brought her to a big building that was really bright inside, with many people inside. She stayed close as the woman went up to one of the human devices and set the Pokeball in there.
And seconds later, her mother appeared right there in front of her. The Zoroark growled, tense at the strange bright place. The Zorua cried out and ran to her, hugging her. This night had been terrible, but at least things were as they should be. With her mother there, she wouldn’t be alone.
…
Zorua White entry: To protect themselves from danger, they hide their true identities by transforming into people and Pokémon.
Pokedex OS- Still trying to capture every single Pokemon out there in words: 583/649
ClicheStorm 2: Mixing cliches is a dangerous pastime. Chapter 16: It could've ended up worse, like that one place.
My Bloody
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Originally Posted by floracat
