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Thread: The Mountain's Shepherd

  1. #1
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    Default The Mountain's Shepherd

    True to my word, I've decided to dive right into Serebii's forums to post a Pokemon fanfiction I'm in the process of writing. Hope it works.

    As my first attempt at a Pokemon fic, I think I'm doing pretty well... of course, knowing how I judge my own work, my view is probably overinflated. I'm young, sure, and blessed with some sort of "talent," but I'm a tad arrogant >.<

    But I digress. I plan to post the chapters I've written as I finish newer ones in a new post in this thread, as most people here do it- I think. Naturally, as readers, your job is to tell me how you liked it and whatnot, right? Hopefully, I can get a small following going here.

    Of course, if possible, editors are warmly welcomed here, as it'd be nice to have my chapters read over and given a review.

    PM LIST

    SolarPowerX
    Marauder21

    This fanfiction is currently rated PG-13 as many chapters contain violence/foul language. It's mild at most (except for battle scenes), but it's in there.

    Anyway, if you haven't been scared away by my excessive waffle, I present to you the first chapter of an epic tale:

    ***

    The frigid wind brought with it the undeniable feeling of disaster. It blew across the frost-covered plateau, lifting up powdery snow from pine trees in its guiding palm; each gliding flake sparkling in the sunlight. Though the scene was as divine as ever, I only sensed disaster; terrible, tragic disaster.

    My horn tingled slightly. Instinctively, I turned my head towards the source of the wind. My horn felt more pull than normal- as if the disaster was on a much larger scale this time. I was accustomed to powerful disasters, as my dangerous (but rewarding) occupation brought me in the line of fire more times than I cared to remember, but there seemed to be a certain urgency in the wind. The disaster must’ve been considerably larger… not that it mattered, knowing how capable I was at my duty.

    As I prepared to dash toward the scene, the wind changed direction, suddenly pushing me forward. I felt the gust run through my fur like the flow of blood through my body. With a great leap, I charged across the plateau, paying no heed to the steep drop. When I hit the slope at the base of the mesa, I picked up speed rapidly, kicking up snow behind me.

    I weaved effortlessly between trees and foliage that dotted the hill, my horn’s shivering increasing. Onward I charged, correctly predicting each turn and brush. The thrill of gracefully threading myself through the trees was something I always had enjoyed, the pulse of my horn a speedy tempo that gave me a rate at which to rhythmically rush through the pine needles. After a while, I burst into a clearing beyond the trees and abruptly halted to survey the area. My horn was still pulling me forward, but I spotted movement farther down.

    I squinted through the blinding noon sun. Yes, there definitely was something moving down below, though I couldn’t discern any features. A Pok&#233;mon, brown and white. It seemed to be looking for something- or someone.
    Suddenly, it perked its neck up towards me. It stared at me for a second, and I stared back. Suddenly, it came rushing towards me. I braced myself, ready to fight. However, as it approached me, I noticed it was no enemy- it was a Furret, a native of the mountain.

    It continued dashing, getting closer until it was nearly upon me. I realized what was about to happen, as I was very aware of the fact that Furrets did not always properly judge distance. I tensed up and guarded myself. It ran into me with a light thud, rebounding off me then flipping twice before falling to the snow.

    I stood there, unscathed. The creature wasn’t moving, but it was not injured. I had apparently knocked the wind out of it. However, I questioned it immediately. “Furret, tell me quickly: what is the disaster down below?”

    The creature shuddered, then slowly stood to face me, covered in snow. He spoke distraughtly, his voice squeaking. “Absol, you may already know, but something’s gone terribly wrong with the Machoke of the valley.” He paused, waiting for a response. I urged him on. “It’s… they’re acting really strange, and are setting fire to the trees in the area.”

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Is it some sort of mass awakening of ancient powers? No? Hmmm.” I began to pace warily, feeling the distracting pull of my horn all the while. “So, they’re using fire. How is it being used?” Questioning the Furret was proving useful.

    Furret shook his head, and then lay down in the snow. “I didn’t see much, but they were shooting flames from their mouth. It was really warm, too; it heated the entire area.”

    “How many of them were there?” I asked anxiously.

    He contemplated the query for a second. “Quite a few, I think. At least three, probably more.”

    “Well, do you have any idea WHY they’re doing all this?”

    “I’m not sure… a few Machoke had gone missing barely two days ago, and the ones down in the valley looked very much alike to the missing ones. I think humans have something to do with this.”

    I scowled violently at the notion. Human interference in my mountain was something I did not approve of. “Well, in that case, I’ll keep on the alert for humans.”

    Furret nodded, his tail moving from side to side. “You won’t be in danger, right?”

    “No, no, not at all, I should be able to handle it. Thank you for the concern, though.”

    He smiled calmly. “I know you can do it again, you always have. Make us proud.”

    I nodded. “Many thanks for the information, Furret. Stay safe.”
    Armed with this intriguing information, I headed off without another word, this time without the wind’s guidance. My horn was still tingling, acting as my only compass. It continued to lead me forward then helpfully directed me left as I came to a blocked stone passageway.

    I felt the increase in temperature before I saw the damage. The normally freezing mountain atmosphere was much warmer than I had expected, so much that no snow fell. Even worse was the field itself. A large circular clearing had been scorched free of snow and a few trees lingering around the edges. Black smoke arose from some of the scalded wood, and ashes still lingered in the air.

    I gasped as I saw the destruction. My mountain, being terrorized by some sort of corrupted Pok&#233;mon… As my eyes took in the scene, I noticed that the Machoke had fled, but they left a strong trail of disaster in their wake. Fury began to build in me, knowing that humans might be involved in this defilement of my land. I also considered the strangeness of how this was set up: why was a single patch of my land being upturned? What possible use could humans have for this? I decided not to worry about it, since I would likely be interrogating a few helpless Machoke within minutes.

    I stretched my legs to leave, ready to topple the rogues. However, before I let myself move, another thought crossed my mind.

    The freezing climate of northern Sinnoh meant that this small mountain was draped in thick snow year-round. Since my birth I had been continuously surrounded by white, never a break in the shower of flakes to see what the world beneath felt like.

    I had never touched earth in my entire life.

    My horn’s attraction to the disaster faded until I felt nothing unnatural. Now was my chance to experience the feeling of actual ground…

    I stepped onto the dirt. A feeling of excitement welled up in me, an emotion stronger than what I felt in combat. The clumps of earth clung to my toes, something that I was happy to experience for the first time. I ran my paw through the ground, lifting soil up gently. After a few times, though, my paws slowed to a stop. I sighed.

    As much as I wanted to relish the moment, my duty was more important. I knew that I may never touch earth again, but finding the rampaging Pok&#233;mon was a task I could not ignore. It was my duty, and though I despised the power my horn had over me, there was nothing I could do.

    I took off running, still enjoying the dirt clinging under my feet. I left the clearing, forging a path through the thick olive green underbrush with my horn, working my way around trees and dashing frantically whenever a break in the growth appeared. Soon, the familiar tingling began again. I let my horn lead the way.

    It didn’t take long to find the Pok&#233;mon. Through the pine needles, I saw that four well-built Machoke were held up by a brave group of three Sneasels and two Weaviles. The Machoke were clearly having a hard time keeping up with the opposing group’s speed, but could occasionally land solid blows on them. I approached stealthily, knowing that either side could take me as an enemy.

    The smallest Sneasel of the group noticed me, but I gave what I hoped was a reassuring glance. It seemed to be convinced, or was at least too busy with the Machoke to care. Hanging low and trying to disguise my black face within the snow, I crept up to the Machoke as it threw a harsh punch, knocking one of the Weaviles to the ground.
    Poised directly behind the Pok&#233;mon, I felt a sudden power flow to my horn, as if a greater being had taken control of my body and directed all my energy into it. Finally, the thrill of battle would return to my blood after a long absence, along with vengeance for my domain.

    I gave a mighty thrust into the Machoke’s back. I felt my horn pierce the traitorous Pok&#233;mon’s skin and dig into its spine. As I broke the surface, the Machoke roared shrilly and threw wild punches toward its side. I removed my horn to get a look at the wound. To my exhilaration, a crimson droplet fell from my horn to the snow and spread slowly in the white.

    As the first Machoke collapsed to the ground, the other three turned to me in fury. I charged towards the next, feeling the energy in my horn again, but it responded faster than I thought it would. I felt my front legs shriek in agony as I lost control and toppled to the ground. I lay there for a second, waiting for the pain to die away. It took me a second to realize I had been felled by a single attack- it definitely didn’t fly with me. Nothing felt broken, but my vision was red and I had trouble breathing. When I regained sight and balance, I noticed in dismay that the Sneasels had fled, and the Weavile was dragging his friend from the scene.

    I backed away slowly, putting distance between me and the foes. My eyes held firm on the closest Machoke.

    I contemplated the scene for a few moments. In addition to incredible strength and thick skin, the Pok&#233;mon were able to breathe fire, meaning that getting close to them would be a challenge. They seemed to be slow enough for me to evade should they attack, but I didn’t want to take any chances. A lower strike would be risky, even with my own considerable strength and speed. More or less, I was a master of aerial attacks; even the smallest of hops before an attack gave me greater mobility and momentum. I waited for the right moment, then leapt high above them.

    To my surprise, one of them fired a bright blast of crimson flame in my direction with adept aim. Unable to steer myself away, I was hit directly. I felt my body singe as the fire engulfed me. I screeched in agony and plummeted downward, hitting the ground with a soft plunk.

    My vision left, came back, and left again. I couldn’t keep track of the moments; I felt my mind shifting out of focus.
    The Machoke… natives of the mountain had betrayed me. My rage grew every second I lay there, supplemented by the struggle to stay awake. How I would have my revenge, if only I could…

    My entire body burned as if I had touched the sun. I tried to look around, but my head was dizzy from the shock; I could only give up and lie down, hoping that they wouldn’t continue attacking.

    Thankfully, they didn’t. I heard muffled footsteps trudging away from me. Then, right before I passed, I heard the gruff, hateful voice of a Machoke.

    “Leave the Absol. It’s going to die. Let it.”

    ***
    Last edited by ShiniyKecleon; 19th October 2009 at 12:03 AM. Reason: Well... mostly editng. It's Chapter 1.1, new and improved, funky fresh. Am I using a first person POV well yet?

  2. #2
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    I'm not too experienced in the art of reviewing, but here goes.

    Quote Originally Posted by ShiniyKecleon View Post
    True to my word, I've decided to dive right into Serebii's forums to post a Pokemon fanfiction I'm in the process of writing. Hope it works.

    As my first attempt at a Pokemon fic, I think I'm doing pretty well... of course, knowing how I judge my own work, my view is probably overinflated. I'm young, sure, and blessed with some sort of "talent," but I'm a tad arrogant >.<

    But I digress. I plan to post the chapters I've written as I finish newer ones in a new post in this thread, as most people here do it- I think. Naturally, as readers, your job is to tell me how you liked it and whatnot, right? Hopefully, I can get a small following going here.

    Of course, if possible, editors are warmly welcomed here, as most of these completed chapters have only been edited lightly by me, and only once- there's bound to be things I missed. For this chapter in particular, too, I'd like to work on the pacing, so if anyone has any suggestions to slow it down, please, please chip in. Also, any weird sentences, missuse of vocabulary, added description and the like can and should be fixed, so feel free to point them out.

    Right now, though, I have no idea how to work a lot of the features of this forum. I've seen a lot of people with seperate links in their first thread post to each individual chapter, like a table of contents. I'd like to do that, of course, but... er, how? Also, informing me of any other interesting buttons I can press for fanfic improvement/beautification would be nice. For this, a PM would be the best way to inform me. Thanks.

    With this being the "hub" of my fanfic, expect it to change regularly, with me adding chapter links and a PM list, assuming that people read this and are interested. And, I promise, I'll only post for new chapters or to make a point/counterpoint when someone gives a valid criticism.

    Anyway, if you haven't been scared away by my excessive waffle, I present to you the first chapter of an epic tale:

    ***

    The frigid wind brought with it the undeniable feeling of disaster. It blew across the frost-covered plateau, lifting up powdery snow from pine trees in its guiding palm; each gliding flake sparkling in the sunlight. Below, smaller hills covered with pure white dotted the base of the slope. Though the scene was as divine as ever, I only sensed peril.

    My horn tingled. Instinctively, I turned my head towards the source of the wind. My horn felt more pull than normal- as if the disaster was on a much larger scale this time. I was accustomed to powerful disasters, but there seemed to be a certain urgency in the wind.

    As I prepared to dash toward the scene, the wind changed direction, suddenly pushing me forward. I felt the gust run through my fur like the flow of blood through my body. With a great leap, I charged across the plateau, paying no heed to the steep drop. When I hit the slope at the base of the mesa, I picked up speed rapidly, kicking up snow behind me.

    As I weaved effortlessly between trees that dotted the hill, my horn’s shivering increased. The thick foliage wasn’t easy to maneuver through, but onward I charged, correctly predicting each turn and brush. After a while, I burst into a clearing beyond the trees and abruptly halted. My horn was still pulling me forward, but I spotted movement farther down.

    Try not to lead off your sentences and paragraphs in the same way - it gets monotonous. This seems to be the only instance you do it though, so its not too bad.

    I squinted through the blinding noon sun. Yes, there definitely was something moving down below, though I couldn’t discern any features. A Pokémon, brown and white. It seemed to be looking for something- or someone.

    Suddenly, it perked its neck up towards me. It stared at me for a second, then came rushing towards me. I braced myself, ready to fight. However, as it approached me, I noticed it was no enemy- it was a Furret, a native of the mountain. Like all Furrets, it had a sleek body striped brown and white from the torso down. Its body led into a tail as wide as itself, one that ended with a bristled patch of fur. Two brown ears protruded from the back of its cat-like head, alert and twitching.

    It continued dashing, getting closer until it was nearly upon me. I realized what was about to happen, and guarded myself. It ran into me with a light thud, rebounding off me then flipping twice before falling to the snow.

    I stood there, unscathed. The creature wasn’t moving, but it was not injured. I had apparently knocked the wind out of it. However, I questioned it immediately. “Furret, tell me quickly: what is the disaster down below?”

    The creature shuddered, then slowly stood to face me, covered in snow. He spoke distraughtly, his voice squeaking. “Absol, you may already know, but something’s gone terribly wrong with the Machoke of the valley." He paused, waiting for a response. I urged him on. "It's... they’re acting really strange, and are setting fire to the trees in the area.”

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Is it some sort of mass awakening of ancient powers? No? Hmmm.” I began to pace warily, feeling the distracting pull of my horn all the while. “So, they’re using fire. What kind and how?”

    Furret shook his head, and then lay down in the snow. “I didn’t see much, but they were shooting flames from their mouth. It was really warm, too; it heated the entire area.”

    “How many of them were there?” I asked anxiously.
    He contemplated the query for a second. “Quite a few, I think. At least three, probably more.”

    “Well, do you have any idea WHY they’re doing all this?”

    “I’m not sure… a few Machoke had gone missing barely two days ago, and the ones down in the valley looked very much alike to the missing ones. I think humans have something to do with this.”

    I scowled violently at the notion. “Well, in that case, I’ll keep on the alert for humans.”

    Furret nodded, his tail moving from side to side. “You won’t be in danger, right?”

    “No, no, not at all, I should be able to handle it. Thank you for the concern, though.”

    He smiled calmly. “I know you can do it again, you always have. Make us proud.”

    I nodded. “Many thanks for the information, Furret. Stay safe.”

    Armed with this intriguing information, I headed off without another word, this time without the wind’s guidance. My horn was still tingling, acting as my only compass. It continued to lead me forward then helpfully directed me left as I came to a blocked stone passageway.

    I felt the increase in temperature before I saw the damage. The normally freezing mountain atmosphere was much warmer than I had expected, so much that no snow fell. Even worse was the field itself. A large circular clearing had been scorched free Black smoke arose from some of the scalded wood, and ashes still lingered in the air.

    I gasped as I saw the destruction. As my eyes took in the scene, I noticed that the Machoke had fled, but they left a strong trail of disaster in their wake. Fury began to build in me, knowing that humans might be involved in this defilement of my land. However, another thought crossed my mind.

    This small mountain was draped in thick snow year-round. Since my birth I had been continuously showered by white.

    I had never touched earth in my entire life.

    My horn’s attraction to the disaster faded until I felt nothing unnatural. Now was my chance to experience the feeling of actual ground…

    I stepped onto dirt for the first time in my life. A feeling of excitement welled up in me, an emotion stronger than what I felt in combat. The clumps of earth clung to my toes, something that I was happy to experience for the first time. I ran my paw through the ground, lifting soil up gently. After a few times, though, my paws slowed to a stop. I sighed.

    I like this passage. It shows a playful and curious side to Absol which is rarely shown, considering that it is seen as majestic and all-knowing.

    As much as I wanted to relish the moment, my duty was more important. I knew that I may never touch earth again, but finding the rampaging Pokémon was a task I could not ignore. It was my duty.

    I took off running, still enjoying the dirt clinging under my feet. I left the clearing, forging a path through the thick olive green underbrush with my horn, working my way around trees and dashing frantically whenever a break in the growth appeared. Soon, the familiar tingling began again. I let my horn lead the way.

    It didn’t take long to find the Pokémon. Through the pine needles, I saw that four well-built Machoke were held up by a brave group of three Sneasels and two Weaviles. The Machoke were clearly having a hard time keeping up with the opposing group’s speed, but could occasionally land solid blows on them.
    I approached stealthily, knowing that either side could take me as an enemy.

    The smallest Sneasel of the group noticed me, but I gave what I hoped was a reassuring glance. It seemed to be convinced, or was at least too busy with the Machoke to care. Hanging low and trying to disguise my black face within the snow, I crept up to the Machoke as it threw a harsh punch, knocking one of the Weaviles to the ground.

    Poised directly behind the Pokémon, I felt a sudden power flow to my horn, as if a greater being had taken control of my body and directed all my energy into it. Like a fierce Arcanine in the midst of battle, I gave a mighty thrust into the Machoke’s back. I felt my horn pierce the Pokémon’s skin and dig into its spine. As I broke the surface, the Machoke roared shrilly and threw wild punches toward its side. I removed my horn to get a look at the wound. To my exhilaration, a crimson droplet fell from my horn to the snow and spread slowly in the white.

    As the first Machoke collapsed to the ground, the other three turned to me in fury. I charged towards the next, feeling the energy in my horn again, but it responded faster than I thought it would. I felt my front legs shriek in agony as I lost control and toppled to the ground. I lay there for a second, waiting for the pain to die away. Nothing felt broken, but my vision was red and I had trouble breathing. When I regained sight and balance, I noticed in dismay that the Sneasels had fled, and the Weavile was dragging his friend from the scene.

    I backed away slowly, putting distance between me and the foes. My eyes held firm on the closest Machoke.

    I contemplated the scene for a few moments. In addition to incredible strength and thick skin, the Pokémon were able to breathe fire, meaning that getting close to them would be a challenge. They seemed to be slow enough for me to evade should they attack, but I didn’t want to take any chances. A lower strike would be risky. Also, I was a master of aerial attacks; even the smallest of hops before an attack gave me greater mobility and momentum. I waited for the right moment, then leapt high above them.

    To my surprise, one of them fired a bright blast of crimson flame in my direction with adept aim. Unable to steer myself away, I was hit directly. I felt my body singe as the fire engulfed me. I screeched in agony and plummeted downward, hitting the ground with a soft plunk.
    My vision left, came back, and left again. I couldn’t keep track of the moments; I felt my mind shifting out of focus. My entire body burned as if I had touched the sun. I tried to look around, but my head was dizzy from the shock; I could only give up and lie down, hoping that they wouldn’t continue attacking.

    Thankfully, they didn’t. I heard muffled footsteps trudging away from me. Then, right before I passed, I heard the gruff, hateful voice of a Machoke.

    “Leave the Absol. It’s going to die. Let it.”

    Once again, you've shown a vulnerable side to Absol, a weaker side. Its good to see that Absol won't always be the one to win.

    ***
    That's really all that I have to say. The grammar is good, and you do a good job of exposing the thoughts running through Absol's head. The description is good too - I could perfectly picture what you are writing about.
    The Latest Capture


    28 / 20 / 26 / 30 / 30 / 31 Timid Southern Island Emerald Latios

    FC: 3309 2165 3231

  3. #3
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    I felt the gust run through my fur like the flow of blood through my body.
    Eh, not sure if I'm feeling this analogy as they're pretty different things with the exception of, well, they both flow. There's nothing necessarily wrong with it, but ... don't know. Just didn't sit with me.

    As I weaved effortlessly between trees that dotted the hill, my horn’s shivering increased. The thick foliage wasn’t easy to maneuver through, but onward I charged, correctly predicting each turn and brush.
    What one is it? Was it easy or hard?

    It stared at me for a second, then came rushing towards me. I braced myself, ready to fight. However, as it approached me, I noticed it was no enemy- it was a Furret, a native of the mountain. Like all Furrets, it had a sleek body striped brown and white from the torso down. Its body led into a tail as wide as itself, one that ended with a bristled patch of fur. Two brown ears protruded from the back of its cat-like head, alert and twitching.
    The tricky thing about first person is having your character explain when necessary, and if he had seen something as common as a furret, it wouldn't need to observe it, let alone detail it. It's not a bad description, but I found it rather awkward considering that you don't seem to have heavy dialogue paragraphs nor do you really stop narrative or action in order to describe something.

    I was also a bit conflicted with how you wrote, earlier, that the absol didn't need to have its guard up as it was a furret and it wasn't an enemy, then wrote it had its guard up to take a hit that hurt the furret more than the absol. I do get what you're saying, but they sound contradictory at first glance. Perhaps something you should fix?

    I began to pace warily, feeling the distracting pull of my horn all the while. “So, they’re using fire. What kind and how?
    ...? "What kind of fire?" I figure you mean how are they using fire, or something like that, but the question in its current states sounds odd. The "what kind" part anyway.

    A large circular clearing had been scorched free Black smoke arose from some of the scalded wood, and ashes still lingered in the air.
    You missed a period between "free" and "black."

    I had never touched earth in my entire life.

    My horn’s attraction to the disaster faded until I felt nothing unnatural. Now was my chance to experience the feeling of actual ground…

    I stepped onto dirt for the first time in my life.
    Oh, come now. Even if you live in a cold climate where its snowy nine months out of the twelve, I really doubt that someone had never stood on dirt before. It can't be snowing that heavily all the time; even Mt. Coronet doesn't have the weather in heavy patches of snow all the time (wild grass sprouting through the snow indicates that the snow isn't that deep, I figure).

    Like a fierce Arcanine in the midst of battle, I gave a mighty thrust into the Machoke’s back.
    Why are you using a pokemon analogy to compare to a pokemon attack? o_O Absol, dare I say, are ranked up there in terms of fierceness with arcanine, too. Opinion, though.

    I removed my horn to get a look at the wound. To my exhilaration, a crimson droplet fell from my horn to the snow and spread slowly in the white.
    So I'm confused on setting. You dedicate, like, three paragraphs to the wonderful world of dirt, but he's still fighting in snow? Was there just a random dirt patch your absol character got giddy about? I'm actually not sure why you focused on the "dirt" part either, not unless this plays an important part later.

    Well, hmm ... It's a good foundation, I'll give you that. However ...

    I always feel redundant with saying this when I review first person stories, but really - you're not taking advantage of the thought process that you can have with first person. If it weren't for all your "I did this" statements, then I can easily transcribe this into third person without transforming the sentences a lot. In fact, let's try that:

    My horn tingled. Instinctively, I turned my head towards the source of the wind. My horn felt more pull than normal- as if the disaster was on a much larger scale this time. I was accustomed to powerful disasters, but there seemed to be a certain urgency in the wind.
    Absol's horn tingled. Instinctively, he turned his head toward the source of the wind. There was more pull on his horn -- as if the disaster was on a much larger scale this time. He had become accustom to powerful disasters, but there seemed to be a certain urgency in the wind.

    Besides the random dirt giddiness, you really don't jump into your character's thought process, nor do you really write how he's interpreting these events. You write the actions, the descriptions, very objectively like you were still writing in third-person. So I do have to ask this: Why are you writing in first person? Honestly, your writing style seems more suited for third person and--if I replace all the "I's" with "Absol"--would easily be third person without much changing. This isn't a bad thing (I know it did come off as rude, but I'm not sure how else I can put it lol) as you have more freedom with description, but you need to think of a more creative way to input your character's thought.

    If you want to stick with first person, I suggest trying to put yourself in the mind frame of your character. Easier said than done, I know. Ignore that, actually, and I'll just give you a personal example.

    I'm looking around my room. Let's focus on my bed. It is small, and it has a gold/yellow comforter, wrinkled of course, and a leopard-print pillow. There's a box of cookies near my pillow. My cell phone, beeping, is also there along with the clothes I wore to school this afternoon. Let's call this the foundation. To apply it to a third person-narrative, I could do something like:

    Breezy's bed was small. Messy, to say the least, with clothes haphazardly thrown about it, and bunches of crumbs -- probably from the box of cookies she recently ate -- littered across the golden spread of her comforter. A dying cell phone beeped for attention (or perhaps she got a new text), but Breezy didn't care as she was busy typing up a review at 12:53 in the morning.

    See, very objective and to the point. Not much personality, but that is to be expected in third person narrative nor is it a bad thing.

    With first person, though, you can be a bit more creative with the interpretation of description. Let's take an uptight character:

    What a pig. Why the hell are there cookies on her bed? And for god's sake, couldn't she at least straighten out the comforter? I always told Breezy she had too many clothes; she can't even put them away in her closet and -- what the hell was that? Beeping? Her cell phone, the bane of my existence, the reason why she constantly ignored me when I tried to talk to her as she was -- crap, more flippin' beeping! It is 12:53 in the morning for crying out loud!

    Again, another first-person perspective, coming from my view:

    I like my bed. It's comforting to know that it, even with creaky springs and a mattress probably twice my age, was waiting for me when I come home, golden comforter bringing warmth to my tired eyes. Beds don't judge; I like that, too. I can eat on it and mess it up and it wouldn't complain -- well, not that beds can talk or anything. My cellphone took rest here, too, and within the comforts was slowly dying. Beeeeeep, it told me. I don't speak cellphone or anything, but I figure it wants me to plug it in and charge it. Well, it's going to have to wait; I have cookies to eat.

    So you have a good foundation (for third person) and you have a good handle on the basics, like description, grammar, etc. I would like to see more personal thought from your absol character should you choose to stick with first-person. The easiest way to do this is to pick a few key personality traits of your absol and then applying it to narrative.

    I'm also intrigued on how the absol sensed the event taking place considering I thought it was known more for predicting natural disaster rather than just "anything that could go wrong", especially since the circumstances (Machoke breathing fire) are quite unnatural. *shrug* But I've seen absol used in odder ways, and it seems plausible for your absol to sense destruction considering how the machoke had already scorched the earth.
    Last edited by Breezy; 7th October 2009 at 10:14 AM.

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    Oh, yay, a few reviews. I guess I'll take the time to respond to them:

    -First off, I'm glad starterlover noticed the way I started the two paragraphs the same; when I'm editing my work, I tend to work on a sentence-by-sentence basis. However, I personally don't see a MAJOR problem with it, for I tend to read my work just as I edit; how a paragraph starts is just how that sentence starts. Of course, I read in a weird way >.< I could probably change it with ease, and so I shall.

    -Otherwise, thanks for the constructive praise on your part

    Now onto Breezy's:

    Right off the bat, I'm going to jump to the bottom of your post to give a bit of clarification to Absol's role in the story, since it's very true that I took liberty in both how it acts and it's duty.

    I knew that I wanted Absol as one of the protagonists right when I decided to write a fanfic, but I wasn't sure it could be the perfect fit for the role I was looking for. I knew it tended to only appear and WARN people of disasters (natural or not), not directly fight for its territory. As the writer, I had to take a few steps and mold the Pokemon a bit for it to work as it does.

    Absol responds to any disaster/attack that takes place on the mountain which he guards. His duty, as hinted at in the title, is to be the guardian of his domain, keep peace one way or another. Whether it's an avalanche or Pokemon revolt, he's there to at least ensure no one is injured, etc etc.

    -For the analogy, I stuck that in there as a hint to how Absol thinks- comparing a simple rush of wind to blood flowing through you is a lot different than, say, "like synthetic medicene flowing through a plastic tube." Ignoring the fact that you won't feel a tube from inside your body most of the time, it's not something most Pokemon, or at least wild Pokemon, would know about. Maybe the execution is a bit clunky, or it seems tacked on- I get what you're saying, though.

    -Ah, there always seems to be one glaring contradiction in my writing, so I'm glad it happened in the first chapter. In my defense, though, it's not written as a combined idea of the act of running- it's sort of saying, "well, the trees are easy enough, large blockades I can easily see, but the underbrush takes a bit more coordination to see and avoid lest I tangle myself within a berry bush." The act is still effortless, "onward I charged, correctly predicting each turn and brush," but there's added complication in the form of brushes. Suppose I could reword it?

    -I'm not sure I need to change to guarding thing because Absol guarded seperately for two different things. When I read it, it sounded fine, though I knew what was going to happen before it actually did. Most readers won't, though, so I get what you're saying, but I don't see a good way to change it :L

    -I think, just for a second, I jumped into Pokemon videogame terminology when writing that; Fire Punch as opposed to Flamethrower as opposed to Will-o-Wisp. Good point, though, I'll definitely change it, as I like how the fragmented way of Absol talking refers to a sense of urgency and rushing.

    -Yeah, yeah, grammar mistake. Overtook the highlighting and eagerly pressed the backspace key without a second glance. T.T

    -There's a bit of opinion involved whenever you mention something along the lines of "oh, the setting shouldn't be like this," as what you think the climate is like and what I think the climate is like is a very different thing.

    First off, I'd imagine that the part of Sinnoh this story takes place in would be rather far north. I'm not sure of how the Pokeearth is SUPPOSED to look, but I'd imagine Sinnoh somewhere Northeast of Canada, someplace around Greenland. It's naturally cold up there, and it rarely stops snowing, as Greenland is covered year-round in an ice cap. You should also take into consideration that the Pokemon world, being as free of problems as it is, lacks global warming and other problems that heat *our* planet to higher average temperatures. The extra four or five degrees can really count when you're thinking about the climate of the Pokemon world.

    Also, as cold as Mt. Coronet is, I'd imagine that the northern reaches of Sinnoh are a bit colder.

    -Ok, so maybe taking a Pokemon and putting it next to another for the sake of simile is unneeded, but the idea of it caught me at first, and I never really changed it... I'll think about ways that can be improved.

    -The field of dirt Absol encountered was exactly what it sounds like- a field of dirt. Meaning that the mountain is still buried in snow, but there's this one designated area that has been charred and melted down to the soil.

    And before I get comments about "why was there a random dirt patch in the middle of a snow-covered mountain? Why weren't the Machoke clearing out a large area or something?", realize that the Machoke were simply commanded to target certain areas to free of snow for a purpose that shall be later revealed.

    -I can't really comment on how the perspective is being underutilized, mostly because you're right. I tend to write stories of any form in 3rd person because it's what I'm most comfortable with; I've only done a little 1st person in my time, and I've never done anything in a Pokemon story.

    In addition, this isn't the only story thread we're following; in fact, the second chapter introduces the other point of view, which is a third person plot from a human's standpoint.

    Why aren't I writing in third person with both, you ask? I simply felt that a more personal view in Absol's chapters would give insight to some of the underlying themes I'd like to bring out- after all, a sub-conflict of this story IS Absol's hatred towards humans and how being forced to come to terms with their existence affects him.

    Incidentally, though, the third chapter (when we switch back to Absol's view) includes a short monologue about Absol's feelings and how humans are cruel, rah rah rah. It seems to be a fine example of first person style in the way you suggested, so I'll try to build off of that as I edit the first chapter by snabbing a few personalities traits like you suggested and fitting them into the narrative. Of course, suggestions on how I can give first person more flair are always welcome since I'm rather unexperienced with it D:

    Anyway, I also have to thank you for giving a large enough review to chew on, and again thanks to starterlover for his/her addition help/constructive praise.

    As for updates, expect to see a rough draft of Chapter Two tommorow, and a revised Chapter One shortly after, or... well, when I get around to the editing.

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    Well, as promised, I'll go ahead and post Chapter Two.

    As always, this is in need of an edit, so I'd be super-grateful to anyone who can provide a solid review (Cough-Breezy-Cough)

    Anyway, I've reposted an edited Chapter One above.

    ***

    By eight thirty, almost every light in Snowpoint would be turned off. Houses would be dark, their inhabitants fast asleep. Most businesses in the city closed at either seven or eight, knowing that no one would brave the freezing streets to pay a visit past rush hour. On most nights, the city would be completely black until about nine, when the streetlights would automatically turn on. However, on this night, at eight forty, only a few lights were still shining like empty beacons throughout the city, one of them being the Snowpoint City police station.

    The front room of the brick building was almost completely still, from the brown metal folding chairs against the wall to the potted fan palm in the far corner to the slowly revolving ceiling fan. The station was constantly open, twenty-four hours a day, but very few people came after all the businesses closed. Tonight, though, there was one more visitor…

    The only sound in the room came from the nearly silent clicking from a keyboard. It echoed across the desk on which the keyboard sat, piercing the silence of the desolate room. The clicking of the keys was created by a hard-working secretary, busy at work on a memo for the boss. Her eyes darted across the screen, following each letter typed. Letters that brought her closer to the end of her shift…

    She typed the last letter especially hard. With a sigh, she leaned back in her office chair, the numbness flowing out of her fingers. She scanned it over quickly, checking for mistakes. To her relief, the page was flawless. Leaning forward, she thrust the mouse over the “send” button and proudly clicked.

    With her work for the day done, the secretary began to absentmindedly twiddle her dark brown hair. Looking up from her work computer, she gave a breath and bit her lip. She glanced at a small desk calendar strewn among countless ballpoint pens and broken rubber bands. Her hand instinctively moved to it, and shuffled to today’s page. A single note was scrawled across the bottom:

    “8:45, Jarrett Winston meeting w/ boss.”

    Her eyes widened. “That’s right. A meeting,” She thought aloud. She glanced at the analog clock hanging vacantly on the wall. 8:52. “Humph. He specifically told me that he wouldn’t be late.” She murmured, visibly irked.

    As if on cue, the door creaked open. In stepped a clean shaven, middle aged man. He wore a thick black coat and bowler hat, and a ruby red scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, all peppered lightly with snow. He gave a nod to the secretary as he removed his coat and hat, revealing a white lab coat and uncombed brown hair curling wildly in directions normal hair did not normally curl. He lightly shook the white from his attire and placed them gingerly on a nearby rack.

    “You know, I have to stay extra late when the last appointment doesn’t show up.”

    “I’m sorry, ma’am.” Jarrett rubbed the side of his face as he spoke. “Though, honestly, I have trouble seeing at night in this city. They really need to turn the street lights on earlier. I’m surprised that I was able to find this place; I felt like a Swablu without its mother.”

    The secretary rolled her eyes. “Oh, forget it, Jarrett, you’re only seven minutes behind. Richard’s down the hall, farthest room to the left. He should be waiting for you.”

    Jarrett turned to leave. “Thank you, ma’am.” He started to walk, but stopped; he needed to take a deep breath, a second to prepare himself.

    Down to the far end of the hall he trudge, fleetingly admiring the hanging art and table plants along the way. His mind buzzed with excitement as he straightened his collar.

    Faced with the door, Jarrett murmured a quick prayer before knocking roughly on the redwood.

    A calm, dignified voice answered. “The door’s open, Winston. Come on in.”

    With a sudden stroke of unease, Jarrett shakily turned the brass door knob and opened the door. Standing in the threshold, he took a look around the captain’s room for the second time in as many days.

    A few desks and tables were placed orderly along the windowless, cabin-esque walls of the room, adorned with many pictures of family and important papers. The walls were barren. The captain, Jarrett had been informed, was keeping the walls clear “just in case we win any awards.”

    At the just-as-cluttered center desk sat the captain himself, Richard Padgett. He was a Poliwrath of a man, stout, but (as he liked to call it) “thick-boned.” A disheveled mustache rested upon his face like a sleeping Burmy. He wore a navy blue hat with black lining that could only be described as a backwards police cap. His uniform was a simple dress shirt of matching color tucked into brown corduroy pants.

    Jarrett saluted the man swiftly, and sat down in the cheap wooden armchair opposite the captain. Now was the moment. If the captain was not impressed with his performance… no, he would be, absolutely no doubt. He’d done his job.

    Padgett raised his thick eyebrows. “Well, Dr. Winston. You’ve been given an extra day to gather information on this outbreak. Anything?”

    “Only a bit,” Jarrett stuttered out, stiffening his back. “I’ve received a bit of intelligence from police organizations regarding the ‘team’ behind this mess.”

    “Ah, yes. That reminds me.” The captain looked enlightened. He backed his chair and opened a drawer in his desk. After shuffling around for a moment, he produced a manila folder that seemed to be empty. However, when Padgett opened the folder, Jarrett was faced with a familiar image.

    “Dr., are you familiar with this uniform?”

    Jarrett rubbed his chin. “Yes, in fact, I do. This matches the description that the authorities gave me.” He pointed to the center of the page. “Even that symbol- ‘an ‘M’ appearing to be in the shape of mountains’- yes, this is the exact match.”

    “Well, that’s wonderful. We’re on the same page. Care to fill me in on the rest?”

    “The authorities gave me a bit of backstory to this group. Called ‘Team Magma,’ they caused significant chaos in the Hoenn region in 2003.” A moment of silence passed as Jarrett sorted his thoughts. “Their goal, as they advertised, was to increase the size of landmasses in order to create more habitats for Pok&#233;mon. The police informed me that they had even attempted to spread to Kanto and Johto, but kept their main operations in Hoenn because it had been rumored that an ancient Pok&#233;mon that created the land lived beneath that region.”

    Padgett nodded nonchalantly. “So, another group of psychos, eh? What else?”

    “The organization was shut down by a unified police force from major Hoenn cities a mere month after their operations took off. Since then, there have been no reports of any activities by that group…” Jarrett squeezed his eyes together. “But I’m certain they’ve reformed.”

    The captain stood up with effort and began to pace moderately while scratching his ear. “Did the group you contacted give any information about the Magma leader?”

    “Unfortunately, no, they simply said it was confidential.”

    “Well, that’s no good, then…” he started whispering to himself. “Still, it fits. Those recent thefts… it all fits…” He scrambled for a pen on his desk and began scribbling notes on a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper.

    Jarrett shifted in his seat. “There were thefts? What kind?”

    “Oh, none of your business, Winston.” He said, barely looking up from the page. “That’s ‘confidential.’”

    Jarrett sighed, and looked lazily at the digital clock hanging on the back wall. “You know, sir, it’s starting to get late. In this weather, I’m going to have trouble getting back to my vehicle…”

    “Well, if you must leave so quickly.” Padgett shot a quick smirk at Jarrett. “I’m impressed that you were able to gather this amount of information without any knowledge. How’d you even get a lead?”

    “Well, there are quite a few personal accounts from Sinnoh natives, too. Just today, I asked around a few towns, a lot of people had different views as to what happened concerning past and recent events. When I turned over my findings to the authorities, they said only the Magma theory would work.” Jarrett stood to stand. He held out his hand gingerly,

    Padgett shook with a crushing grip. “I’m glad I hired you, Jarrett. You’re a reliable man, albeit a bit procrastinating. I didn’t think hiring a man such as yourself would be a smart move- I don’t really know of any bioscientists who are also good investigators.”

    Jarrett gave a chuckle, and turned to leave. As he was on the threshold, Padgett suddenly spoke.

    “Winston… you came here armed, correct?”

    Jarrett swiveled in place. “With… a Pok&#233;mon, sir?”

    “Well of course a Pok&#233;mon, I certainly hope you wouldn’t be carrying a firearm around without a police badge.”

    “I always bring my partner, Slowking, wherever I go, sir.” Jarrett seemed to swell with pride as he said this. “Why, does Magma know about me?”

    Padgett shrugged. “They might, depending on how many people you’ve inquired. Assuming they’re in Sinnoh, they might know about your investigations…”

    “Don’t worry, sir, I’ve taken that into account. Slowking’s very powerful; he should be able to handle a few Magma grunts.”

    “Well, I trust judgments of a person’s own Pok&#233;mon, Winston…” the captain adjusted his cap. “And though I certainly hope you won’t have any troubles soon, be alert. Good luck, boy. You’re free to go.”

    Jarrett saluted to the captain. “Good night, sir.”

    “G’night…”

    As Jarrett walked calmly back down the hall, aware of the danger he was facing, he grasped the compact orb within his lab coat’s pocket. With a deep breath, he stepped nonchalantly into the front room, paying no heed to the secretary’s expressionless gaze. He pulled his coat and hat off the rack and quickly put them on while opening the door.

    “Have a nice night, ma’am.” He said, scarf muffling his words.

    Once outside, Jarrett took a deep breath. The streetlights were turned on, to his relief, and light snow had begun to fall, covering the streets of Snowpoint in a veneer of white. He paused for a second, adjusting himself to the light while trying to determine which direction he had parked his motorcycle in. With careful consideration, he turned right from the glow of the building behind him. Suddenly, he heard a snicker from behind him.

    “Where do you think you’re going, Doctor?”

    Jarrett turned one-hundred and eighty degrees and came face to face with a man dressed in the typical Magma uniform. He wore a maroon hooded jacket, cut off at the torso, a black symbol etched on it appearing as an M with three pointed mountaintops. His cuffs, matching in color with the jacket, were half hidden in the pockets of his baggy gray pants. He was leaning lazily against the brick wall, hands in his pockets. His hood was up, three sharp protrusions jutting from it like horns on a beast.

    Jarrett tensed up with apprehension. Though he knew he was prepared to handle even the highest of Magma admins, seeing one in person was more intimidating than he had previously imagined. He tried to keep his breaths small, disguising the fear in his gut with a staunch gaze.

    Eyes closed, the Magma continued. “Cadmus doesn’t like it when people try to foil our plans, Doctor Winston. He’d like our efforts to go without a hitch. People like you are a hindrance to what we do. But people don’t understand.” He stepped away from the wall, eyes looking past Jarrett, into space. “They don’t understand why we do what we do. If they would only listen to what we have to say instead of tagging us as psychos…” his face crinkled into a sneer. “You don’t understand us, do you?”

    Jarrett reached into his pocket and produced a Luxury Ball. The grunt took a single look and began to laugh darkly. Jarrett took a step forward, the small orb giving him a burst of confidence.

    “Oh, you want a battle? What is it with people these days? Everyone is getting into the fad of battling Pok&#233;mon. Don’t they realize the pain they put these beautiful creatures through?” From his pockets, the man produced a Great Ball that was scratched along the top end.

    “Well, fine, if you want to subject your poor partner to a world of pain, then I’ll happily provide it.”
    Last edited by ShiniyKecleon; 11th October 2009 at 2:16 PM. Reason: Thought I'd add a few minor updates before moving onto Chapter Three.

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    Default Chapter Three

    Though I'm not a fan of double posting chapters, I guess this is a time where I'm forced to. Oh well.

    Anyway, I've now added a PM list for anyone who wants to subscribe to this thread, so just shout me or include it in your review if you wish to be PMed whenever I manage to finish a new chapter.

    ***

    The only thing I could feel was my horn’s tingling. Again and again, the restless pull of my horn- would it ever cease? The rest of my body lay in complete numbness. Slowly, as I began to recognize my senses, I felt intense pain flow through my limbs. I wretched for a minute until it dulled away. As my hearing came to, I heard high-pitched voices around me.

    “I’m just worried for him, that’s all. He seems to be losing his edge. I mean, there’s no way he would’ve fallen so easily in his younger days.”

    “A simple slip, that’s all. There hasn’t been a disaster in quite awhile. He’s still alive, anyway. Maybe this will get him back into his pace.”

    “But he’s not staying alert. He’s taking chances. I’m worried for our land, to tell the truth.”

    “Oh, quiet down, Sneasel, he’s waking up…”

    Hearing the foul speak directed at me, I felt a jolt to my system. I leapt to my feet, a dull ache still echoing in my body. As the blur in my vision dissipated, I began to adjust to the darkness, and carefully observed my surroundings.

    I had been moved to the edge of the scorched field, under the lacking shade of a few barren pine trees. Around me sat a Sneasel and Weavile, both sitting cross-legged. They were staring at me worriedly. I exhaled crossly, then noticed something next to me. I looked down only to see the Machoke I had felled earlier lying on his front, the deep gash sealed by hardened blood. He looked to be breathing, though it was hard to tell. I thought I had killed him…

    Still looking at the Machoke, I asked, “Why did you rescue him? He may very well be dead by now.”

    The Weavile answered first. “Well, he’s a native to this mountain, sir. Alive or dead, we needed to save him.”

    “A native.” My horn’s pull jumped, but I ignored it. “He has been captured and abused by humans, undoubtedly. Native or not, he is not a safe Pok&#233;mon.”

    “So, you think we should rid of him?” The Weavile inquired with a concerned voice.

    I hesitated, but stayed true on my ideals. “Yes. If he wakes up, he will likely revert to the command humans gave him. Once a Pok&#233;mon has been captured, it has no place in my domain.”

    The Sneasel stood up abruptly and snarled. “I can’t believe you, Absol. You’d deny a Pok&#233;mon to live in your land because of a human’s interference? Do you think he had any choice in his fate?”

    Choice? Machoke were stronger than most humans or their machines; I doubted one would get captured. I turned to chase down the disaster while speaking. “He’s about to wake up, why don’t you ask him yourself?” With that, I gave a great leap and took off running.

    I contemplated my words as I pursued the source of the catastrophe. There was a bizarre truth to them, but I had never wondered why I had formed this opinion. I always considered humans separate from us; them stealing our brethren and taming them was simply the result of human’s desire to drive forward. Though we were losing the war to inherit the land, I was not about to make matters worse by allowing corrupted Pok&#233;mon to roam my territory. Still, this case was different. The Pok&#233;mon in question had been born and raised on my mountain, and was most likely still in touch with his wild roots. Furret had said that he was likely captured barely two sunrises ago.

    All of this thinking was overridden by my horn’s attraction to the disaster. It led me far, to areas of the forest that bordered on the human city. Farther I went, through land that held no Pok&#233;mon. Suddenly, I burst out into the plains, the city in view. Still my horn led me farther… But I was reluctant. My horn was meant to sense disasters in my domain alone. Was the catastrophe truly great enough for my horn to feel it?

    The city lay across a large bay that had been dug long ago to accommodate human vessels. It was clear that this was the only safe entrance to human territory, since other entrances were probably closed up and guarded. Unfortunately, I was not a natural swimmer, but either way, I couldn’t ignore disaster.

    With a brave leap, I jumped into the frigid water. For a second, I sunk, but I managed to kick myself back up to the surface. My body ached and numbed in the chilling bay, but my horn’s pull drove me forward. The bay was large, but I knew this was the only path I could safely take. To the best of my ability, I swam.

    -------------------------------------------------

    “Slowking, come on out and prepare for a battle.”

    Jarrett held the Luxury Ball close to his chest, then lobbed the sphere up with great confidence. At the apex of its toss, the ball split open at the middle. A translucent red substance formed within the hollow ball and shot like lightning to the ground. As it hit the snow-laden path, the substance began to form the shape of a Pok&#233;mon. Seconds later, the cocoon of red exploded from the form, revealing a Slowking as the orb boomeranged back to Jarrett. The creature stood casually, staring intently at the opponent with hazel eyes.

    The grunt, standing a good ten feet from Jarrett, snorted mockingly, though he clearly recognized the power of the foe.

    “Your Pokemon looks rather dense. Shouldn’t be any trouble.” He gave a fragile glance to the sphere in his hand. “Houndoom, my partner, amaze them with your strength.” The Great Ball was thrown hard against the ground; it bounced one before emitting a blinding flash. When the light cleared, a fierce Houndoom stood where the orb had been.

    “So.” The grunt loosened his body, and began tapping his hands against his knees. “I suppose this is the part where we begin.” His face became a contorted snarl, filled with bloodlust. “ Houndoom, Crunch.”

    The wolf-like creature gave a shrill howl and charged towards Slowking, jars barred.

    “Slowking, get ready to use Ice Punch.” There was no need for Jarrett’s word, however; the Pok&#233;mon never failed to predict what his trainer would request. The Houndoom closed in, but Slowking had already prepared a counter. His pink fist glowed with a white light, mist forming around it, swirling around the epicenter of its source as it thickened. The foe closed in, maw inches from flesh. Slowking swung, but Houndoom ducked in time to let the attack fly inches overhead. He then proceeded to surge forward again, but Slowking took a step backwards, narrowly avoiding the fangs. This continued rhythmically for a short while, two partners locked in a furious dance of heated determination.

    Suddenly, the direction changed as Slowking began driving Houndoom backwards with repeated punches. Houndoom had almost stepped into the direct center of the field when the beast was suddenly struck across the cheek with a crushing blow. He skidded backwards, claws digging into the ground. A maroon bruise had been etched around his mouth from the impact. The Magma grunt hissed furiously. “Houndoom, Flamethrower! All your might, now!”

    The creature obeyed his master with surprising might; even Jarrett could feel the heat from the following attack. Scalding red flames bellowed from the creature’s mouth with a force that could char brick; they approached Slowking hastily and engulfed him before he could respond. Jarrett cringed when he lost sight of his partner within the inferno. For a second, it appeared as if Slowking wasn’t responding, but a hint of blue in his shape appeared within the flames. However, it quickly disappeared, enclosed by the fire.

    The grunt removed his hood slowly, revealing slicked back blond hair. “Are we finished yet? I believe your dear partner is barely holding on.” He gingerly summoned his Pok&#233;mon with a wave of his hand. “Houndoom, cease your blaze.” At once, the Pok&#233;mon’s mouth shut, and the fire diminished to smoke. Instinctively, all three beings focused on Slowking. Standing there lazily was a form of sparkling blue. I wavered back and forth a few times, then tilted its head. It stretched its arms out deliberately, as if pushing against unseen forces. Taking a step forward, it let out a chilling sound, its body pulsing.

    The air fizzled with energy. Both the Magma grunt and Houndoom took a step back in near unison. “What’s that creature doing? Don’t let it get out of control!”

    Jarrett couldn’t help but laugh at the notion. “My dear Slowking, out of control? He’s barely trying. Oh, this is only a hint of the power he can direct.”

    Both parties stood frozen, ignoring the chilling breeze that now picked up. All eyes were focused on Slowking, whose blue coating had evaporated, save for the eyes, which shone brighter than ever. “Go ahead, unleash your psychic powers.”

    Slowking raised his rubbery fist, softly chanting unrecognizable syllables. All the while, his eyes pierced the blue, staring unwaveringly at Houndoom, who was now coated in the same blue veneer.

    Suddenly, a violent, tormented howl came from the creature as he sank to the ground weakly, shivering harshly. The Magma grunt stood stiff, eyes showing terror, though it was obvious he knew that there was no way to safely intervene. Houndoom’s breathing slowed until there was barely a hint of movement in his body. “Please… don’t kill him.” He uttered desperately.

    When Slowking heard this, he reluctantly obliged; his eyes slowly faded to normal. Jarrett, too, seemed ready to end. Houndoom looked to have been knocked out. He lay on his side in a writhing position, unmoving. The grunt rushed to his partner. As he approached, he threw himself into a slide, knees separating the snow.

    “Don’t worry, he’s not dead.” Jarrett took a few steps forward, calling Slowking back into his Pok&#233; Ball. “I would never let Slowking go so far as to kill another. I keep his powers under control-“

    “Not dead? He isn’t breathing, you fool!” There were tears in the grunt’s eyes, frozen as they dropped from his cheek. His voice was trembling. “What the hell did he do? What did that Slowking do?”

    “He only drove Houndoom out of consciousness. He’ll wake up in a little while.”

    The grunt now had thick tears running loosely down his cheeks. Though there was an undeniable evil in the man, Jarrett could see loss in the opponent’s face. Truly, he was unsure if his partner really would come to. The loss slowly turned to malice and hatred, though, and Jarrett tensed with horror as he watched the Magma grunt pull a handgun from his pocket as he stood up.

    “I am not sorry for this at all. You’re a very respectable man, Dr. Winston. I respect your work; bioscientists are crucial to our studies. You’re a very powerful trainer. But you have gained too much ground against me and my organization already. I can’t leave without killing you.” He raised the gun shakily to Jarrett’s chest level, breathed deeply, and pulled the trigger.

    ***
    Last edited by ShiniyKecleon; 19th October 2009 at 2:06 AM.

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    I read all three chapters, and I can’t think of too much to say criticism-wise other than the comments below. Your grammar is very good overall and the description blends nicely with the action. You can add me to the PM list.

    Two little grammar issues I caught in chapter three:

    I thought had killed him…
    Missed an I between thought and had.

    “Go ahead, loose your psychic powers.”
    I don’t think loose is the right word here. Maybe release or unleash instead?

    It’s hard to say with the differences between Pokémon and humans, but hypothermia sets in a lot quicker in cold water. One of the first signs is shivering. As it progresses, confusion may set in and you lose strength and coordination in the extremities, which makes things even more difficult for Absol since you said they’re not great swimmers. In fact, the act of swimming itself increases heat loss.

    On a similar note, since it seems like you’re going for realism, be aware of where the major veins and arteries are likely to be on Pokémon that have them. I don’t know if the gash on the Machoke was deep enough to sever something like the aorta, but if it was, death can occur within minutes from the blood loss.

    Great job, keep it up. ^_^
    Coming soon to the fanfiction section:

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    *eyes fanfiction warily* Hmmm, it seems that I have in fact made a few mistakes. I can't argue with either on the grammatical side, though I will add that I could've sworn that "loose" was used as a verb SOMEWHERE in a book I read... long... ago. Ah, well, Spellchecker wins this round. I'll run an edit to fix that up.

    In terms of realism, I can definitely agree with you when it comes to both. On the hypothermia aspect, I would have to make Absol survive the bay swim for the story to progress, naturally, but there's quite a bit of shivering in the next few Absol-centered chapters, so I guess I stuck a bit of hypothermia in subconsciously. However (spoiler alert, kind of), since Absol's horn has the ability to absorb energy and heat (at least the way I portray Absol), his condition will be lessened, undoubtedly, as his horn will work extra hard to keep him alive.

    I'm sure that Absol wasn't able to cut deep into the heart of the Machoke, primarily because that would require him to cut through the spine- and even if he did, the spine would've softened the blow considerably. Machoke's aorta is fine.

    I've also added you to the PM list.

    (In case no one posts in the meantime, this space will be reserved for Chapter Four.)

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    Quote Originally Posted by ShiniyKecleon View Post


    struck across the check with a crushing blow.

    ***
    Good chapters, that's just a minor spelling error, I think you mean chest. It doesn't really matter

    Overall, I like this fic. I like how we see the story from both absol and Jarret's pont of view. Keep up the good work
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    This is great! I have a special talent, too. Though my skill is hard to use. Anyway, nice story! I hope Jarrett will be OK though.

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    Default Chapter Four

    Yay, posting time. A chance to test out this PM list, too. So... you know, comment, edit, subscribe, the usual jazz.

    ***

    I pushed myself harder than I ever had before. A little more, I encouraged myself. Just one more disaster to prevent before I swoon. I threw my paws forward, exposing my trembling body to frigid turbulence. My speed picked up with every passing second, though I could barely see through the thick snow. My horn quaking so violently I felt my mind going numb. Down the snowy paths I tore, all the while wondering if the disaster was too far away.

    My question was answered soon enough. I leaned around a bend only to come face to face with two humans surrounding a fainted Houndoom. The closest one to me was dressed in a strange dark red jacket, and was holding a gun at the other, dressed in a black coat and hat. My horn pulled me closer still. I tried to resist; I had always vowed to stay out of human affairs. But… if my horn had picked up this kind of disaster… something much more terrible would happen if I let this human die.

    Blindly I charged forward, ignoring the fact that I would reveal myself to humans. I leapt high over the armed man, and swirled around as he pulled the trigger. I heard the shot, but my head was already swiping at the approaching bullet.

    The feeling of hard metal shattering forcefully as my horn tore through it was an incredible adrenaline rush. As the bullet fragmented into innumerable shards, I shot a glance at the man holding the gun. There was a look of pure distress about his face; he was too stunned to even attack me. The man showing weakness was a further boost to my energy. I landed gracefully, front feet first, and turned to him. He took a few hasty steps back, grabbing a blue Poké Ball from his pockets. I cringed at the sight of it; but I was unaware if he intended to capture me or summon a captured Pokémon. I held my ground warily, only to see him call his Houndoom back. He then replaced the blue Poké Ball with a different, red one. Suddenly, I heard a human voice cry out from behind me.

    “Winston! What happened here?” I ignored the man; my priority was on the armed assailant.

    “I was ambushed by this Magma, Officer- you have the means to arrest him at once.” At once, I charged at the Magma, he lobbed his ball into the air and juked swiftly to my left. I landed, swiveled around, and watched the orb drop like a falling stone to the soft ground, where it opened up, red lightning spreading from it.

    “What? That’s- I’ve never seen that kind of Pokémon before.” The officer said, referring to me. Still, the red lightning spread upward, beginning to form the shape of a dragon-like Pokémon.

    “I’ve read a bit about it,” said Winston. “Its species is… Absol. Yes, that’s it.” Hearing my name was only a minor distraction; I felt my horn begin to tingle as the red form exploded to reveal a charcoal, draconic Pokémon. It let out a bellowing roar, alerting all to its presence.

    “Well, dear Dr. Winston, Officer Padgett,” the man seemed to show sudden confidence under the maroon wing of his Pokémon. “I hate to exit this encounter so epically, but I’m afraid it’s only in my character to flee with a special twist.” He gave a taunting wink and climbed onto the back of his Pokémon. Riding your Pokémon like a vehicle? I was aghast. My eyes met with the Pokémon; we exchanged hateful glances. My horn immediately read its essence- Charizard.

    With ample energy, the Charizard lifted itself into the air, wings creating a powerful gust in front of me. I shielded my face from the whipping blasts of air, trying futilely to conjure a powerful attack. The gusts slowly lessened, and I looked into the sky through the heavy snow. I had lost sight of them…

    The two humans suddenly appeared on either side of me. I instinctively tensed up in their presence.

    “I’ve read somewhere that Absol have the innate ability to sense disaster.”

    “Well, consider yourself blessed, Winston- I’d certainly feel lucky if someone came to save my life.”

    Winston bent down to look at me at eye level. Our eyes connected, and I sensed a powerful gratitude inside of him. For some reason, this made me swell with courage. Whenever my horn sensed disaster, I would always put myself in danger to save another Pokémon’s life, but saving a human’s life was something new to me. It was a strange feeling, undoubtedly, but was all the same comforting.

    The officer suddenly spoke. “Do you think we should chase after him?”

    “Unfortunately, Officer, I didn’t see which direction they flew off in; following them would be impossible.”

    As the last word slipped from his mouth, my horn jolted violently. I flung my head in the direction of the pull, fur bristling. The two took immediate notice to this.

    “He’s reacting to the danger!” Winston almost shouted.

    “A danger involving Magma? It’d better be… Winston, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to follow this creature; it may attempt to lead us into the wilderness and kill us.”

    Winston looked offended. “Don’t be paranoid, Officer Padgett. I’m sure Absol’s intentions are good.” He turned hopefully to me. “You’ll help us find Magma?”

    Of course I would, I thought; my horn was pulling me towards it- I had to respond to the call. He seemed to pick up on this from the look in my eye; he instantly brightened. “Perfect,” He said, “I’ve parked my motorcycle a couple of streets down- I think I’ll need it to keep up with you.” Though I was reluctant to expose myself to human vehicles- I had heard terrible stories about them- I couldn’t say anything to dissuade him as he turned and began to disappear into the blizzard.

    “Winston,” the officer called out after him, “I hope you have extra room for me; I’ll need to hitch a ride with you.” He chased off after Winston, leaving me alone.

    I stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. My horn was tingling, but there were humans- extra companions- I had to wait for. Adding to the stress was my current condition- after running long distances and traversing an entire bay, I was in no shape to exert myself even more.

    I looked around nearby for anywhere I could lay for a while. The falling snow was incredibly thick; I could barely see my own paws. There was a light pouring from a nearby building. I approached with caution, feeling each step sap a great effort of energy from me. Ultimately, I collapsed in the middle of the path. I was completely conscious, but I felt the need to rest for a while. Happily.

    ***

    So I rested. Minutes passed; my horn had stopped reacting and I enjoyed the energy that it absorbed from the atmosphere. Time crept along slowly with absolutely no events. Then, when I sensed an hour looming on the horizon, with my mind beginning to drift, my horn began to tingle. I shook myself back awake. I felt completely refreshed; my body was as healthy and alert as it possibly could be.

    There was yet another disaster my horn had picked up on- was it involving Magma? The humans still hadn’t returned. I was doubtful that the two had been kidnapped, as they seemed competent enough. But I was forced to answer the call of my horn anyway, and since they hadn’t returned, I decided reluctantly to go on without them.

    I was on my feet in an instant, and taking off at top speed. The snow had slowed during my rest, and I could see much more clearly now. Around corners I sped, weaving my way through the city.

    I leapt onto another street only to be surprised by a Pokémon standing barely ten feet from me. I dug my paws into the ground, driving up snow at a frantic pace. I halted to a stop in front of him, just within a distance to make out his features.

    He stood a head taller than me. I was impressed not only with his size, but with his features. His feathers shone a bright lime green even in the dark, three golden bands rounding his waist. His beak was perfectly curved, and two pristine red feathers blossomed from his round head. His smooth white wings were folded across his chest, with black and red tips meeting perfectly at the center.

    I stood my ground. Though our eyes had met and were locked on each other, I could not seem to read his aura clearly. A few long seconds passed, with neither of us attempting to communicate. Suddenly, I couldn’t take the silence. “Tell me, mysterious Pokémon. Who are you?”

    The Pokémon threw his wings out, revealing a surprising pattern of two red eyes on his chest, rounded by black bands that formed the shape of a head around the eyes. He spoke with a calm, wise voice, with something of a sad echo flowing in his words. “Ah, Absol, the Mountain’s Shepherd, I have been waiting for you. Gladly, as I foresaw, you have come. I am Xatu, partner to Jarrett Winston.”

    Winston… it was the human I had saved earlier.

    “I perceived your deeds from earlier, and I am in great debt to you for protecting my friend.”

    Humans, a Pokémon’s friend? The horrible revelations seemed to come one after another. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” I was in shock that such a wise Pokémon considered a human a friend, but my horn’s tingle brought to mind a more important matter. “Have the officer and Jarrett been captured?”

    “Mm, you are thinking bounds ahead of me, Absol. They were ambushed by a second wave of Magma soldiers and promptly assaulted. Both Slowking and I were released by Jarrett to escape, but only I was fast enough to outrun them.” Both pairs of eyes lowered their brow in sadness. “I had an image of you resting on the streets, and, not wanting to wake you prematurely, decided to wait for you here, knowing you would take this path when you finally woke.”

    “But how could you know such a thing beforehand?” I asked, skeptical.

    “I too have powers beyond humans’; my psychic powers allow me to see both the past and present!”

    “Well, that’s certainly useful.” I said caustically. He did not appear to have heard my comment, however; his eyes were looking intently at the sky. I did nothing for a few seconds. In an instant, he shot a halcyon glance at me. “It certainly is.”

    I had genuine concern for the humans, strangely. With a breath, I began to pace worriedly. “The humans were captured… do you know if the Magmas took them nearby?”

    “Very close to this city, at a station, or a headquarters. Within an hour’s travel, in fact. We can easily traverse the land together. Though, I sense reluctance in you, Absol. You are a loner; to come together with another Pokémon is something you are not used to. However, allow me to establish one point.”

    “Which is? ...”

    The Pokémon slowly closed his eyes. “It would be impossible for a single Pokémon to overpower the amount of Magmas currently guarding the station. They are no doubt prepared for intruders- unfortunately, I sense that this building has been erected for quite a while. The question comes to this: Will you travel with me? Are we to combine our powers and overcome the obstacles the Magmas will undoubtedly throw at us?”

    I thought for a few seconds, though, at this point, the answer was absolutely clear. To take back my mountain… to overturn Magma…

    “Well, of course.”

    ***

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  12. #12
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    Here’s my next review, as promised. Another good chapter, there weren’t any major issues that stood out to me. I like stories that have a Pokémon’s POV in them, it’s interesting to see their way of thinking.

    One little typo:

    At once, I charged at the Magma, he lobbed his ball into the air and juked swiftly to my left
    Did you mean jerked?

    A few more details on the Charizard would have been nice. I know it was snowing heavily, but I believe its tail flame would have lit the scene around it.

    Then, when I sensed an hour looming on the horizon,
    “An hour looming on the horizon” doesn’t really make sense to me. Maybe “after x amount of time, my mind began drifting off….”

    He stood a head taller than me. I was impressed not only with his size, but with his features. His feathers shone a bright lime green even in the dark, three golden bands rounding his waist. His beak was perfectly curved, and two pristine red feathers blossomed from his round head. His smooth white wings were folded across his chest, with black and red tips meeting perfectly at the center.
    The last three sentences all start with his. Vary the sentence structure so it doesn’t sound quite so list-like when you’re describing things.

    Keep it up.
    Coming soon to the fanfiction section:

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    In response to Marauder's points:

    -Dictionary.com's definition of "juke" : to make a move intended to deceive (an opponent).

    While the context could be a bit shaky, I suppose it could work. I've heard juke used a lot in football where one player spins to the right or left to shake someone off their tail. The Magma isn't spinning, but he's making a decieving move to shake Absol off his tail.

    -Also, I will describe the Charizard, epsecially in regards to how it is SHIN-AY! I don't really know how many people picked up on it, actually,

    -"Hour looming on the horizon" is a sort of abstract way of saying it. I do realize it may not be everybody's cup of tea, though I'd like to collect a few more opinions to whether it fits in the story.

    -... Breezy, 2, Shiny, 0. Once again, describing a Pokemon has been my achille's heel in the most awkward way. I will go into editing to fix it since I'd like to keep it at the moment (putting readers into a sort of guessing game before Xatu reveals it's identity).

    Anyway, thanks for the review and such, expect an updated Chapter Four once I decide to get around to it =P

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    Default Chapter Five

    Hmmm... I originally wanted to post this when the banner I requested was finished- but wait, it HAS been finished, a three days early at that! A thousand hearty thank yous shall be bestowed upon Mrs. Lovett for volunteering to make this thing! So, to celebrate the posting of Chapter Five and all its foreshadow-rific-ness, I've added the banner to my signature as a link! I'm now one step closer to having this as an official fanfiction.

    However, there's more, since I have a story to tell, eh? Enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to review, or request to be on the PM list!

    ***

    Nestled in a scarcely populated region of the north, the hideout lay in a land dotted with the same scorched fields I had encountered barely a day ago. As Xatu and I weaved our way through the tightly packed trees, I took in the scenery around us.

    The earth here was far worse than the one I had seen. Each seemed larger than the one before, not to mention more devastated. In places, the rich earth had been upturned as if some rampaging beast had thrashed through the area, and the scalded trees had burnt down to their roots; the pungent smell of smoke was still lingering. The Magmas were clearly behind them all. I suspected the typical human ignorance, as humans’ destroying our land was nothing new. However, something about the man with the Charizard gave me an unnerving feeling about Magma. I knew it was vital to the survival of my mountain to stop them in their tracks.

    I was grateful that the Magmas didn’t bother to hide themselves. The two of us had no problem finding our way to Magma’s hideaway. Though I was exhausted by the time Xatu and I had found the base, I was ready for a quick fight as I pounced the hooded guard.

    The entrance to the cavern headquarters was carved out so that an overhang stretched back into a smaller passageway plated by dull gray metal and lit by electric lights that, as far as I could tell, dug far into the rock wall. While Xatu maneuvered the grunts’ torn body behind the tree using his psychic abilities, I collapsed under the overhang, nearly unconscious.

    Magma bases, built under the radar of the keenest beings for so long…

    I considered for a second what I was doing out here. I never left my mountain; I was its protector. I had been since I was born. In the short time that I knew them before they died, my parents had always bolstered my pride of the mountain and its divine landscape; its varied culture, its general peace. For a time, I considered it to be the incomparable home. I was glad to have inherited it. But… the world was beyond huge, and as I learned more about it through word of mouth, I learned to detest any soil, any stone that was not my domain. I found myself terrified at the idea of me relying on this land to provide temporary warmth. I wondered if any disasters in my homeland would even be picked up by my horn. Still, stopping Magma, or at least putting up a fight, was better than letting them restlessly assault my territory to the point of them finally taking it over.

    Xatu stepped back into my view; from the corner of my eye, I saw a worried look on his face. “Not such a good idea, Absol. A break will give us a rest from running, but while we sleep outside their base, they will come and kill us. Why don’t you lie down somewhere safer?”

    “Far too tired to move. I don’t suppose it’s in your power to heal me.” I murmured weakly.

    “Unfortunately, I do not. Such a gift was once blessed to me through unknown means, but I soon lost it with as little warning as I had gained it.

    Trying to stand, I gave a groan. “What a shame. I’m in great need of a bit of energy, but my horn isn’t responding to the atmosphere; it’s too worn out. Why did you let the power go?”

    “It was beyond my control. It is only natural that as we grow, our trainers make the choices of how capable we are, and what we can create with our innate aptitudes for the times when we battle. Such is the only repercussion of having a trainer.”

    A sudden feeling of hatred well up in me and gave me the energy to rise to my feet. “Only repercussion? Don’t you realize how ridiculous you sound? Is having a human control your powers and direct you to fight for him at your loss something that you should accept without question?”

    For a second, Xatu didn’t respond. His head was turned away.

    “There are some things I cannot answer, Absol. It is only natural that each Pok&#233;mon has different opinions about the world around them. I do not think it is right for trainers to capture Pok&#233;mon against their will, but such is the flow of life.”

    The rustling of the evergreens in the wind echoed Xatu’s words. Though I hated to leave it be and let him continue living under the spell of a human, the sound of his words told me that he would not be persuaded. Maybe after he saw what Magma really was, he may change his mind.

    My thoughts were distracted by the sound of frantic footsteps from inside the tunnel. Faint voices shouted violently at one another, and though I could not hear their words, I knew by their tone that they were headed for us.

    My mind raced as I heard their pounding approaching. I was too physically battered to try and fight more, especially armed humans; killing the entrance guard had taken the last of my energy. Xatu, however, seemed well.

    “Xatu, are you able to fight off these guards yourself?” I said as I collapsed once again to the ground.

    “I could try. I perceive many of them approaching, but I can at least fend them off for a little while.

    I felt the slightest pull from my horn. “Yes, that’ll do.”

    I turned over the face the attackers. Xatu did the same, positioning himself just inside the tunnel.

    They came in large groups. Six or seven at a time, they barreled down the hallway as they spotted us, commanders shouting frenzied orders to the lower ranked grunts. One by one, they drew their guns as they ran. All of them pointed their weapons at Xatu, who stood completely still, body tightened.

    I heard the shot before I saw it connect with him. The thundering sound of a shot bullet reverberated off the wall, causing my head to ring. As the bullet hit Xatu, a blinding flash emitted from him. I watched the bullet ricochet off of him like an acorn tossed against a tree. More Magmas fired at him, but each was brushed aside with no effort.

    “Can’t you just attack them?” I asked bluntly. There was no response; Xatu continued to deflect each bullet, focusing on some distant point. “Come on, attack! Before they aim for me!” I glanced at a guard who had heard my growling; his pistol was now drawn towards me. He seemed afraid to shoot me for some reason. His face showed signs of reluctance, as if I would be magically protected like the other Pok&#233;mon. I knew I wasn’t; there wasn’t any feeling of envelopment or sudden air of calm around me. I was in more of a precarious position than I truly cared to be; even my normal disaster preventing didn’t put me as dangerous a situation as having a human’s weapon pointed at you.

    “Xatu, attack!” I yelled for one final time. The troops had wasted most of their bullets on him, a few began to retreat. Still, the Pok&#233;mon did nothing. I looked back at the Magma aiming at me. I tried to muster the strength to leap up and attack, but my body was too exhausted to recover any strength…
    My eyes connected with the man once again. We held each other’s gaze, and suddenly, my horn let out a pulsing sensation. For a second, the feeling died away, but I willed it back, the aura from the Magma feeding my horn with his uneasy will to end my life.

    There was just enough energy in me for a single kill. I brought myself to my feet weakly, poised myself for a moment, eyeing my foe carefully. Lust turned over bitterly in my stomach. As soon as he prepared to pull the trigger, I surged forward.

    I unintentionally lunged at his knees. I had planned to ravage him farther up, around his torso, but I hadn’t the energy to leap into the air; a low attack would have to do. Either way, I caused quite a commotion among the Magmas as he recoiled back into other grunts holding their ground. He was able to outrun me, but as I landed, I felt the energy from the writhing mass of bodies engulf me. For a second, all was silent, but my horn took over. It absorbed the force from the air; the sudden spike of energy flowed through my body like a river of spirit.

    At once I charged bravely onto the heap of Magmas quicker than the ones standing could react. A few saw me, but most were either pinned under other bodies or stunned by the fall. Each one was killed with a brutal slice through the chest; the pile began to lessen like the softening snow of the Warm Season as limp bodies slipped from on top of one another, revealing the next victim in the helpless snare of foot soldiers. Even the slightest of gashes spilled maroon blood across their chests, staining their uniforms with a deeper red.

    Finally, the last of the toppled Magmas were dead. I watched as the standing few fled in horror, slower ones stumbling over one another as they desperately tried to escape from my rage.

    I wasn’t done with them.

    My paws splashed against the blood stained floor. They were not yet out of sight… it would be so easy to hunt the rest of them down.

    “Absol, stop.” pleaded Xatu. I ignored his word, bursting into a run. I wasn’t going to stop. Not this time. A few turned around, shooting at me as they ran, but their shots were shaky in their hysteria and the dim light of the metal tunnel; I didn’t even bother to dodge.

    The first one went down without a fight; I knocked him to the ground and drove my horn through his skull. The second aimed to shoot, but his hand was severed in a flash, followed quickly by a slice to the chest. A few more shots were fired, but they still missed. I leapt to the next, one ready to kill-

    A flash of green materialized in front of me. I collided with my partner in a flurry of blinding flashes, but nothing was about to distract me from my goal. Xatu was thrown to the side against the wall.

    Once again, he begged me to stop, out of breath from being thrashed. “You’re going… too far, Absol. Calm down… let them escape. Your personal motives… should not interfere…”

    As true as his words were, I couldn’t stop now, not after they knew about me. Not after they had attacked my domain.

    There wasn’t a man I would leave alive. I was going to take my mountain back, one underling at a time.

    ***
    Last edited by ShiniyKecleon; 30th October 2009 at 1:36 AM.

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    Well, I've managed to read through all the chapters you posted so far! I'll reply to them in one chunk of text.

    You have a pretty cool idea here - an Absol who is the 'ruler' of a mountain that is being taken over by Team Magma. Your chapter endings are especially good. You do a great job describing Absol's emotions and the whole situation. I really have no complaints on anything grammar-wise or anything. I don't think you need an overload of description here, it's fine the way it is. It helps add to the mood more


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    Default Chapter Six

    Hey, look, a new piece of fiction that isn't part of a One-Shot contest

    Sorry I haven't been active recently- for the people who've noticed me running around reviewing chapters of random things. I've been busy, but I'm back to help the occasional writer.

    Anyway, I've finally got around to posting this, and it's hopefully just as good as the previous work I've been churning out. As always, read, and *comment/review* so I can get some valuable feedback (yes, I know this thing is of average quality and already six chapters in, but some posts to show that there's life in this forum is appreciated :P ). It's even more important since very little actually happens in this chapter, so some ideas or suggestions for adding interesting stchuff would be appreciated.

    And, you know, stay in tune for Chapter Seven.

    There's a bit more language in this chapter. Well... only one new word to add to the pile, but it's there.

    ***

    They awoke to the shocking sound of slamming steel. The noise was followed by a series of smaller, more jagged clangs that sent screeching echoes up the stone walls. The final sound was much louder and staccato than the rest, and was accompanied by a quiet clinking of chains. The two figures hung limply by their hands from metal links that ran up to wall to thick iron hooks embedded in the rock. Jarrett awoke first, a low, creaking moan escaping from his mouth.

    “Slowking. Slowking…” He shook his mind into focus, only to find that his skull was pounding with a sharp sting. “Slowking!” He wrenched his neck in agony; and his eyes widened as they began to perceive their murky surroundings. The pain instantly died away. “What in the… Magma…”

    There was little Jarrett remembered from the previous hour, save for a sudden influx of Fearow-riding Magmas and a desperate release of his Pokémon. He and Officer Padgett had been surrounded and beaten mercilessly by the Fearows’ wings and beaks. His Pokémon were commanded to run, but he saw Slowking being overtaken by a pair of Fearow… and Xatu had paid no heed. He could only guess as to whether his Pokémon would survive as he fainted under the constant assault of the birds.

    He turned to Padgett, who was drooping heavily barely five feet to his left, strange hat nowhere in sight. “Sir, are you awake?” The only sign of life was a trembling lip. “Officer, wake up.” When there was no verbal response, Jarrett turned and tried to observe the chamber he now hung in. However, it was too dark to make out anything on the far wall. There were virtually no lights anywhere, and absolutely no visible cracks in the obsidian that let in any light, no matter how dim. At least I know what kind of door we have, Jarrett thought, recalling the slamming that had shaken him to. He sighed, immediately regretting saying it. Sarcasm at a time like this never helped his concentration; if he wanted out, he’d need to save the cheap jokes for later.

    He tested the hooks that held him aloft by pulling down with his arms; though he wasn’t the most able-bodied of men, he managed to lift himself a few inches. Damn, they’re too thick to be torn off. He kicked his feet against the wall, throwing himself forward, only to be jerked back be the short number of chains connecting him to the stone.

    Struggling to look up, he took a long observation of the hooks that held Officer Padgett. An iron block was stuck tight into the wall, a loop protruded from it that connected the rest of the links leading to the cuffs that held them. It appeared to be too strong to break with normal human hands.

    Suddenly, the officer let out a loud grunt that shocked Jarrett.

    “Winston… you’d better be around here somewhere…” He murmured languidly. His mouth sagged as he spoke, his now-disheveled moustache muffling his words. “You know where we are, Winston?”

    He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light, his face turning to Jarrett at a similar speed. His eyes had a sign of insanity in them, his jaw tightly clenched. The two stared at the other for a seemingly endless time, each observing the scratches, bruises, and torn clothing of the other.

    “Those Magma *******s.”

    “Agreed…”

    “They took us to their hideout?!”

    “Yes, yes, they’ve captured us… and I can’t imagine anyone saving us.”

    “Not even your precious Absol?”

    Jarrett was silent. While he would’ve trusted Absol to lead them to the base safely, he wondered if Absol would bother with rescuing them. They were very disloyal creatures, as he had once read, and since each was obliged to protect their domain, it was rare for an Absol to go out of their way to protect humans. In fact, he had heard that many Absols mutually hated humans. It was unlikely that this one was any different.

    “Just wait until I get my hands on them… all of Arceus’s rage couldn’t match my fury!” Padgett started pulling on his chains violently, shaking them back in forth in a flurry of rattling clinks. “Such a humiliation! The authorities will certainly have a fun time hearing this! *******S!”

    Jarrett suddenly turned nearly full-body to Padgett. “Quiet down! Are we going to sit here screaming for the next hour, or are we going to save our breath and devise some sort of escape plan?” he hissed.

    “I dunno about you,” Padgett’s voice was suddenly coarse and whispering. “But we’re not escaping anytime soon, why not cause a ruckus?” Instead of continuing his rant, though, the respected officer let out a sniffle. “It begs the question, though: what kind of leader would put prisoners in this kinda… medieval cell?”

    “No one said that the Magmas were exactly civilized.” Jarrett took a second to rest his head against his raised arm.

    “An organization as large as this one has to be civilized enough to control even their lowest grunts. Trust me, Winston; I’ve seen enough criminal organizations to know how they run.”

    “Well, maybe this is a form of torture, or it’s possible that this cell is reserved for people like us- traitors, conspirators.” He cringed at the words. He wasn’t a conspirator, Magma was. Why would such words spew so easily from his mouth?

    “More reasonable, but I don’t really think they do something as barbaric as-” he rattled his chain once more. “-this.”

    “I dunno…” Jarrett turned his head away, squinting off into the distance as if observing a far off object that didn’t exist.

    The two were silent for a while. Jarrett loosened his body and hung, mind half-asleep, mentally alone. Padgett incessantly shifted for the next half hour, trying hopelessly to unfasten or snap one of the links. He occasionally muttered under his breath, but usually resorted to copious panting as his method of communication. There was an air of unrest in the cell, but both refused to simply quiet down and accept their fate. Neither plotted revenge, however, and only the tiniest spark of hope still lingered in their eyes.
    Suddenly, Richard spoke, excitement welling up in his voice.

    “Winston… I think I feel something in my pockets.” He shuffled around a little, his tight corduroys straining to not rip. “Yes… definitely something.” He struggled to place his hands around his waist until he embarrassingly realized that his hands were still held upright. “I think Magma forgot to take my Pokémon.”

    The two exchanged hopeful, yet dubious glances. “Would Magma really neglect something that important?”

    “It’s not too rare to see ambushes where the assailants don’t bother to check their victims for items.” Richard mentioned. “It’s usually too much of a rush. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ones who hung us up here were simply too lazy to take our valuables.”

    Jarrett tried to feel around for anything in his own coat pockets. He gasped in shock when the lab coat showed no sign of a Poké Ball, but quickly remembered that he had released them earlier. It wouldn’t have mattered either way; neither of Jarrett’s most trusted partners had much physical strength at all. “Are you positive?”

    “Completely. I think I can work them out of my pocket…” He shuffled a little more, and finished with a sigh. “Nothing. Can you do anything?”

    Jarrett looked the officer up and down. “I could try to reach over with my feet and work the Poké Balls out of your pocket.” He stopped for a second to analyze the absurdity of the plan. “I don’t expect it to work-”
    “It doesn’t matter if it does,” Padgett interrupted. “Better to try.”

    Jarrett sighed. “Fine by me, but I’m not holding back if I kick you too hard.”
    “I’m a trained police officer, Winston- I can resist a lot more than a wimp kicking me in the seat of my pants.”

    Jarrett instinctively chuckled despite the situation. “Oh, you’re asking for it.” He taunted jokingly.

    And so, for the next few minutes, Jarrett swung himself towards Padgett and delivered an upward kick to his pockets. Slowly, the three orbs in Richard’s pocket worked upwards until their tops were visible through the opening of his brown pants.

    “It’s actually working.” Richard observed.

    “Surprisingly,” Jarrett kicked harder this time, trying to work the orbs past the tight seam of the pants. “But something had to, right?”

    “I just can’t believe that I didn’t feel this half an hour ago.” As he spoke this, the three shrunken orbs slid over the crease of the pocket and began to plummet to the ground. They expanded as they hit the stone floor in rapid succession and split open at the middle. A red flash briefly illuminated the cell, giving Jarrett a second to study his surroundings. Flat gray stone encircled them, not a single bump or crevasse disturbing the stillness of the room. Opposite to him was a small section of iron bars built into a rectangular section carved out of the hollow; a padlocked door was the only closed door in the way of freedom…

    “Zang…” a growl suddenly came from below Jarrett, startling him. He looked down to observe Richard’s Zangoose, Nidoking, and Luxray. The three were all heavily built; presumably from rigorous police training.

    “Zangoose, do us a favor and get us outta here.” At once, the ferret-like Pokémon gave a nimble leap, claws poised. He sliced though both men’s chains at once with minimal effort and landed exactly where he had been summoned. Jarrett and Richard fell to the floor; Richard, being heavier, touched solid ground first. The two let the ache in their feet die away, and gave each other a look of mischief.

    “You Pokémon are quite impressive, Officer.” Jarrett commended. “How long have you had them?”

    Richard crumpled his brow and thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve had my partner Zangoose since before I graduated from college; probably when I was still in high school. Nidoking and Luxray are Pokémon that were rescued from bandits and the like. They took to me very quickly, and I trained them under my wing. They’ve been my trusted pals on and off duty for years.” He gave Zangoose a friendly pat while letting Luxray lick his opposite hand. “But this is a story for another time. Are we gonna get outta here or not?”

    ***
    Last edited by ShiniyKecleon; 2nd November 2009 at 9:11 PM.

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  17. #17
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    This is a really good fan fic.
    70% of the Serebii population uses ultra powerful legendaries (also known as ubers)
    in their teams. If you are one of the 30% that thinks outside the box
    and doesn't use ubers, copy and paste this into your signature!
    99% of people think Staraptor is better than Pidgeot. If you think Pidgeot is better put this in your signature (Started by Bossk)

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