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Thread: Project Valentine (Multishippings, G-PG13)

  1. #101
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    ^_^ Yelling people are often hilarious. Those last three chapters could be read as a trilogy, actually. Albeit a very strange trilogy.

    *

    AccordShipping // Tonio & Alice // G

    "I thought I'd find you hiding out up here."

    Startled, he nearly dropped his notes as he half swiveled around; only his hand's reflexive snatching saved them from blowing away into the pond below. "Wha—" he began, before the figure stepped a little further into the light of the festive lantern. "Oh," he said, raising a hand to his chest, "h-hi Alice. I didn't hear you come up."

    "Sorry," she said, blushing a little. "But why not come back over there and celebrate? Valentine's Day only comes once a year. The Festival is so romantic!"

    "I know," he agreed, glancing to the side, "but Baron Alberto's hosting it again, and I don't want a repeat of the incident from last year."

    "True." She seated herself beside him on the dock, dainty feet dangling above the faint ripples on the pond's surface. An excited shriek punctuated the meaningless noise of the festivities behind them. "But you don't need to be alone, you know."

    "I do know." He pulled her close with his free hand, softly pressing his lips against her hair.

    She smiled, fingers tracing the unfamiliar symbols on the topmost of his notes. "Found something else your grandfather discovered?" she asked, in a voice of soft curiosity.

    He nodded, managing to shift through his papers singlehandedly. "It's a transcription of some ancient message. I'm not sure where the original text was from, but it might still be relevant one way or another. Something about the gods of Fate and Fortune." He let out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. "I haven't really managed to completely translate it yet."

    She was silent for a moment, watching a pair of Luvdisc skim effortlessly across the surface. "Do you think … do you think I might need to play Oracion?" she asked. She shivered a little, remembering the last time the soothing song had needed to be played.

    "You might," he told her seriously. His expression was quickly lifted by a smile as he continued, "But I don't know if Alamos Town would be attacked again or not. It seemed to be rather lucky that Dialga and Palkia dropped by the one place that could calm them, actually. Perhaps there might be some Fortune-Fate Tower around here we haven't seen?"

    "Perhaps." She breathed deeply, drinking in the cool winter air. "If it happens, I hope it's not soon."

    "So do I." He squeezed her softly in a gentle hug. "But let's not think about that right now."

    She nodded, embracing him in return, and together they stared up silently at an empty sky streaked with fireworks shaped like stars.

    *

    Coming up next: PenguinShipping.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

    Latest PV pair: Shedinja/Sylveon - What if the MST3K guys did Roshomon? I think it would go a little something like this.

  2. #102
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    Awww! That was so cute! I loved it! Sooo adorable, how they sat and watched the stars. A change of pace after all the humorous ones.
    http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/...pynegaiday.png" width="468" height="100">

    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  3. #103
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    Thanks! Yeah, I thought that since Tonio/Alice is one of Pokemon's few canon couples, they might as well get a bit of actual romance since nobody ever writes for them.

    *

    PenguinShipping // Kenny & Dawn // G

    The television screen flashed bright blue again as the small penguin it displayed unleashed a barrage of water towards his spindly-looking opponent. Looking unimpressed, the blond Kirlia lifted and twirled in the air a few times, a white-blue glow surrounding her body just before the waves drew too close. There was a flare of light, and the water bounced backwards towards its Piplup creator, whose eyes went wide as his own Whirlpool sucked him in, spinning him around several times before dropping him to the floor.

    "And that's time!" the announcer exclaimed, as the camera panned out to show the scoreboard. "It has certainly been a close call," she lied, "but the winner is Lilygrove's own Kaleri and her Kirlia!"

    Sprawled out on the couch, Kenny shook his head as he watched the runner-up, a very familiar bluenette, run to her fallen Piplup at the edge of the camera's view. He still wondered why she had held out on him before, refusing to separate from those other friends of hers for his sake, only to turn around a couple of weeks later and part from them anyway. And going off to Hoenn of all places! Did she really find him that annoying, that's she'd go to the other side of the continent to get away from him?

    He wanted to be mad at her for that. But seeing her on TV, with a faint glint of a tear catching the bright Contest lights, he couldn't bring himself to muster up any indignation.

    In fact, he had a sudden urge to reach into the television hug her.

    With a soft sigh, he reached for the remote and switched the TV off. He reminded himself to stop beating himself up about letting her go so easily. He reminded himself to concentrate on working on his Appeal strategy, or he would lose even more badly than he had in his last two Contests. He reminded himself that it was two o'clock and he needed to get something from the Pokemon Center's vending machine before all the newbie trainers would start storming in trying to get poor Nurse Joy to heal their Bidoofs' and Kricketots' barely visible scratches.

    He still wished he could go back and fix whatever had gone wrong to start with.

    There was a soft popping noise behind him, accompanied by a faint flash of green light. He turned his head lazily to glance over his shoulder, then comically fell off the couch in surprise at the sight of none other than Celebi floating behind him, wings beating quietly.

    "What is … what is this?" he babbled, trying to figure out what the heck was going on. "I don't even …"

    The green imp fluttered over, seized him by the head, and locked its softly glowing eyes onto his. Still too confused to do anything, he simply looked back as his vision began to be filled with oddly colored light, soon drowning out his view completely as he began to feel strangely numb ...

    He stumbled. "Wait, why am I standing again?" he blurted, somehow managing to say all that before falling flat on his face half a second later.

    "Huh. I didn't think he'd take losing the Appeal round that hard."

    Tilting his head up, he blinked in surprise upon realizing that the people staring up at him were quite familiar … and so did the building they stood in, for that matter …

    He glanced down. Why was he wearing his Contest costume—?

    "Oh," he realized, facepalming. "Celebi. I went back in time, except not really. Of course." Was this the Sinnoh Grand Festival? Man, he remembered how crushing that day was …

    "What are you talking about?"

    Kenny froze for a few seconds before slowly lifting his gaze again. Standing above him, looking down in confusion, was Dawn, looking beautiful as usual in her Contest dress. Her head was tilted a little to the side, her hands placed on her hips, her hair very slightly disheveled from the stress of her Appeal.

    "I think I really like you," he revealed, just before his brain caught up with his mouth and he slapped a hand over it.

    "… Kenny," Dawn said, looking as if he were delusional, "I'm really sorry you were eliminated so early, but I don't think I have time to pity you right now. I need to make sure I don't drop out either; I've got to help my Pokemon practice and everything. I might see you sometime though."

    He had just enough time to register that her expression suggested otherwise before his vision was once again obscured by light.

    "Wha—!" he exclaimed inelegantly, before it faded to reveal another new scene before him.

    "—didn't even know you were at the Jubilife Contest. How come we didn't see you then?"

    Kenny blinked. He was sitting cross-legged with Dawn and those friends of hers she'd chosen over him. What time was this one?

    "Jubilife …" he echoed, rubbing his chin. "Contest at … oh yeah, I remember that! I couldn't even win then, could I? Zoey beat me with that cat of hers. I don't think she's ever actually lost, now that I … wait, is my voice higher than before? How long ago is this, anyway?"

    The others gave him a collective disturbed look. "… What are you talking about?" the squinty-eyed one asked finally.

    He shrugged. "I have no clue. But Dawn—"

    "Can't you just decide whether to call me Dawn or Dee-Dee already?" the girl interrupted, looking a little cross. "It's like every time you switch, it reminds me more of the whole thing."

    "Oh yeah!" Kenny exclaimed. "This is the time you introduced me to Brock and Ash! You'd think I would've remembered this better, since you made up that excuse about them to get away from me, but I guess I was just thinking more about you than them. I don't dwell on the past that much."

    "…"

    "Wait, I don't think I told you my name yet!" Ash exclaimed stupidly, looking highly disturbed.

    "… Kenny, what is up with you?" Dawn asked, edging away a little.

    "I already said I didn't know, I'm sorry, I was just getting carried away and I—"

    "I need to find somewhere to practice for the Contest," she interrupted, getting to her feet. "Somewhere quiet. Guys, follow me."

    Kenny didn't even try to point out the fact that there'd be only one less person in that scenario. Instead he watched with more than a little dismay as her friends followed her example, giving him highly confused looks as they did so. "Well, that went well," he remarked, looking over at Prinplup; the penguin was also raising an eyebrow at him.

    Then Prinplup vanished from his sight as it was swallowed in light.

    "I guess I should be getting used to this," he remarked dryly once it had faded, leaving him somewhere new again.

    "W-what?"

    He blinked. Dawn stood in front of him, looking more distraught than he could remember off the top of his head. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

    He glanced around at the Contest Hall trappings around them, feeling a slight chill as he recognized the interior design. Solaceon. Second lost Appeal in a row … "Oh gosh, Dawn," he blurted, realizing what she probably thought he meant. "I didn't mean it, not like that. You will win the next Appeal, believe me. It's just bad luck—"

    "It's not bad luck!" she whimpered shrilly, wringing her hands. "It's lack of talent! What kind of real Coordinator loses two Appeals in a row?" She squeezed her eyes shut, and a pair of teardrops trickled down her cheeks. "I'm not cut out for this, Kenny. I'm probably going home in a couple days or so. I'll tell your mom and dad hi when I get back to Twinleaf." She forced a smile onto her face, a smile that looked dreadfully fake. "I'll probably see you sometime down the road, huh?"

    And she turned slightly, preparing to walk away.

    Without thinking, he took her by the shoulders to face her again, ignoring her startled gasp. "No, Dawn," he told her a bit forcefully. "You're not going back home. You're not going to tell my mom and dad hi. You are going to keep entering Contests, because dang it, Dawn, you can do this. Losing Appeals is not the end of the world, I know that."

    She frowned slightly, which made the blotchiness on her face more vivid somehow. "You never lost a Contest."

    "Yes I did, a while ago," he replied, since that was true in a way. "It was devastating. And I didn't get over it for a long time … that came back to bite me in the rear, in ways I'm not going to explain right now. Don't make that mistake, Dawn. Don't go on about what's already happened when you should be looking forward. You're far, far better than you think you are."

    She stared at him for a while. He stared back, expecting the light to come back again and take him away …

    But Dawn threw her arms around him, catching him in a surprise hug. "Thanks, Kenny," she whispered. "I really needed to hear that."

    She was hugging him. She was hugging him. Celebi had better not transport him to another time again.

    Smiling, he returned her hug, daring to pull her close to his chest. "You're welcome," he replied after a few seconds had ticked by and ever increased the chance that he would remain in this time.

    He would make things better between them. She deserved better than the annoying kid he used to be. And he would make sure she got it.

    Thanks, Celebi, he thought, and could have sworn he sensed a faint mental echo of a giggle in reply.

    *

    Coming up next: ChosenShipping.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

    Latest PV pair: Shedinja/Sylveon - What if the MST3K guys did Roshomon? I think it would go a little something like this.

  4. #104
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    Ha! I read it before you even sent out the PM. I am good! Oh, um, yeah, on with the story!! I liked this one. I must admit, I did not think of Celebi popping up. I thought that Dawn would make an unexpected appearance or something like that. Very good.
    http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/...pynegaiday.png" width="468" height="100">

    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  5. #105
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    ^^; Yeah, I did consider that avenue at first. But then I realized that all shipping relies on coincidental appearances, so I figured that I might as make mine as ridiculous and over-the-top as possible. Hence the Celebi.

    Hey guys this one has gore in it, consider yourselves warned 'kay?

    *

    ChosenShipping // Silver & Blue // PG-13

    He dreams the nightmare of his childhood all over again.

    He is two, roused from his sleep by the sound of scuttling claws and wet, raspy breathing. He knows distantly that this is not the distilled truth stored in memory; but this knowledge is in the furthest corner of his mind, banished with conscious thought. Here, everything is twisted and warped into monstrous caricatures of being.

    Something pierces through his little arm, drawing blood that oozes black in the darkness. His mouth opens, forming the beginning of a wail; but something is shoved against his face, smothering the sound that could have saved him from a cold and lonely hell. Something fills his nose with a sweet stench, like rotting flowers, and it tickles his throat, fogs his mind …

    He is somewhere strange, filled with ice and stone and blackness. No familiarity – even the air is wrong here. Tears sting his eyes. He wants to go home …

    Something springs out of the darkness. He watches in terror as it looms over him, an enormous face as white and cold and deathly as the moon. It isn't really a face, though, unless it's been sliced from the head of a dead man, eye sockets sculpted out bloodlessly. But he doesn't care what it is, not really, not when it's filling his vision with its icy, leering, toothless grin.

    He tries to move, to crawl backwards from the thing, but his limbs refuse to move, as if the shadows themselves are pinning them down and why is that thing turning around and why is it bothering him so much and I just wanna go home, I want Mommy, Daddy, please let me go home …

    The backwards mask floats towards him, unhurriedly, leisurely, as if fully aware that there is nowhere he can run to, no way he can run there, no one to help him, because they are alone, he and that deathly mask that comes closer, ever closer, as slowly as its gradual shrinking in size … but it's not really shrinking, it's changing, still a mask but the extra mass has to go somewhere.

    Somewhere in the form of swiftly growing, pointed, jagged fangs lining the side facing him.

    When he realizes this, he has just enough time to scream.

    Then the mask pins itself to his face and the teeth bite into his cheeks and eyes and nose and skull and he screeches and screeches and screeches because there's no other way to describe the sound coming from his throat as the blood trickles down and MAKE IT STOP

    He is surrounded, watched over by others in shadowy cloaks. His eyes water and throb from the pain – how do they still work, stabbed as they are? – but he can tell they wear similar masks to his. They dissolve into swirling, foggy shadow, then reappear, floating like ghosts of the damned, and dissolving again as they circle around him, silent as the grave.

    He tries to bury his face in his hands, but the mask unleashes a fresh wave of pain at the touch. So he simply crouches there, whimpering like a frightened animal, and everything is so dark—

    Something touches his shoulder. He wheels around, sending droplets of blood flying, to see yet another masked figure. But this one doesn't tower over him and make him feel as if he could be swallowed up in her shadow. No, this one is smaller, more fragile-looking, and less dead than the others.

    He stares up into her mask, wondering at it. Something twinkles in its eyeholes, reminding him of the smile Mommy used to give him when she tucked him in at night. Shivering, he lets himself be pulled into her arms, mostly shielded from the sight of the dead faces circling them.

    Time stretches on, and he wonders if he can ever escape this hell, and see something besides the black and the white and the red that still drips from his mutilated face. He can't remember Mommy's or Daddy's faces anymore, as if they've been hidden in the same shadow that hides him from them. He wonders if they miss him, if they'll love him in spite of the mask that hurts him so much. It doesn't seem to matter much now though. That was a long time ago.

    He wonders if his companion wants to leave as much as he does. He hasn't pulled from her embrace even once, and he can feel her shifting slightly, constantly, tensing every now and then, as if searching for something, searching, searching … He wants to help, whatever she's doing, but he can't bring himself to stare right at the evil around him, knowing that he will only see himself reflected back at him.

    A pause. His companion seizes his arm, half dragging him, he sees the horror of the circle, the narrow break between its dancers, fog like night surrounding him and then fading, fading behind, and he squeezes his eyes shut in the sudden light because it is so painfully beautiful.

    And everything … is now … light …

    There is a sickening slurping sound and a sharp intake of breath; he turns around, first noticing the mask in her hand – covered in a fresh coat of blood. He cringes, suddenly fearing what might happen if he rips his own mask off, even as its fangs still bite into his face.

    Then he sees her face.

    For it's really obvious now that his companion's a girl, with long hair wafting about in a nonexistent breeze, and smiling eyes gazing back at him from a face covered in only the faintest of scars, though her face is slick with blood. He stares back, suddenly struck by how long it's been since he's seen a face, a real human face that's alive. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

    She reaches out with bloody hands and, before he can react, pulls the mask from his face.

    He gasps sharply, because it's shocking how little it really hurts.

    She smiles, tossing the masks away carelessly, and places a hand on his wet face. Only then does he realize that he's crying, his tears flowing down his cheeks and past her fingers.

    When she hugs him, he holds her tight, promising himself he's never, ever going to let her go, even as everything blossoms into light and peace and warmth.

    And when dreams fade into reality and he awakes to find himself on the couch again, her head is still resting on his shoulder, and he shifts ever so slightly to put his lips against her hair.

    *

    Coming up next: QuestShipping.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

    Latest PV pair: Shedinja/Sylveon - What if the MST3K guys did Roshomon? I think it would go a little something like this.

  6. #106
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    Hmm. Angsty much? That was really cool. And disturbing. But cool. I had a fun time imagining the masks. They were kinda creepy to imagine. There was a little romance in the end. It was kinda sweet, how she comforted him, lead him out of hell. This one was pretty good.
    http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/...pynegaiday.png" width="468" height="100">

    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  7. #107
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    Heh, thanks. I was taking a pretty big break from fluff there, and I've got to say it's one of my personal favorites (I like dark stuff, what can I say).

    ... As is this one. Is it weird that I want to see something like this happen in real life?

    *

    QuestShipping // Jimmy & Marina // G

    After a long period of consideration, one involving deep sighs, unseeing gazes across the room, and thoughtful, wistful glances at his wallet, Jimmy finally swallowed his pride, glanced furtively to his left and right to make sure nobody he knew was around, and quickly marched into the costume store.

    "Why, of course we have them!" the salesperson exclaimed, once the boy had made known his desire. "And with practically any design you can name, to boot. Been a bit overstocked since post-Halloween season, though who knows why. After all, we have the best in the city! Are you looking for a particular brand, or would you prefer a—"

    "I already sort of have something in mind, actually," he interrupted hastily.

    "And I'm positive we have it," the other remarked with one of those cheesy grins, leading him over to a section near the far wall.

    Soon he was exiting the store, a bag clutched protectively under his arm as he kept an eye out for people who might recognize him. He knew what that would lead to: stopping a while to chat, time ticking away for a few moments before his purchase was snatched and examined with a critical eye and incredulous eyebrow, leading to calling up everyone on the phone's contact list so they could join in with the mocking and teasing. Oho, you did this for her, didn't you Jimmy? You like her~!

    "Shut up!" he told his imagination, blushing slightly. A few random passersby stared at him, but he pretended they weren't there and continued on his way.

    After some time of marching down the sidewalk, he ducked into a nearby alleyway, quickly concealing himself behind a dumpster in order to change. A couple of minutes later, he straightened up, sticking his street clothes into a bag, eyes darting around from behind his mask as he searched for a – there! An old, rusting ladder dangling from the nearby building's balcony. He grinned, gripping it in his gloved hands as he prepared to climb it. Sure, it wouldn't actually bring him all the way up to the roof, but he could surely find a few windows nearby to bring him up the rest of the way. These big, clunky boots could probably easily balance on half-inch windowsills. And the fact that each window was probably at least ten feet above the one below it couldn't possibly be an issue.

    He considered the situation for a moment, stared up at the roof at least fifty feet above, and decided to use the elevator instead.

    Five minutes later, he was peering down at the ant-like people scurrying about on the street, vaguely wondering if anyone had noticed he'd slipped through an "Employees Only" door to get the rest of the way to this spot. The majority of his attention, though, was focused on his search.

    Marina had promised to meet him on this street, he remembered. She'd wanted to know what he had to show her. He'd said it was a surprise. She'd been skeptical, of course, but she was definitely going to be surprised. As was everyone else on the street.

    Was that – yes! There she was, far below him, moving along the thin sidewalk. Even from this height, her blue Pinsir-like hair was unmistakable. He smiled down at her, then concentrated on the building across the street. He could make the jump, he told himself confidently. As long as he believed in himself and thought of her eyes widening in admiration at the sight of him, he could do anything.

    The small part of him that was wiser than his ten years attempted to bring common sense into this. He quickly quieted it; there was no way he could turn back now.

    Crouching at the edge of the roof, he prepared himself for launch.

    *

    Marina, like everyone else within three blocks, stared.

    Some … thing had just flung itself off a building. Its superhero outfit had this garish red-and-gold color scheme that really stood out against the sky, although that was more poetic and less fitting than saying it made him look like he was on fire. But what she noticed first was that enormous cape, fluttering behind it like a huge banner. It had to be at least twenty feet long, she estimated, before shifting into fangirl mode and squealing like a little girl. Or littler girl, anyway.

    Eeeee, that cape was sooooooo gorgeous~!

    Unfortunately, the caped guy was clearly wasn't going to make the jump, because gravity has no taste in capes and pulls on everything equally. He was flailing around like he really was on fire, since he had to have figured out by now that things weren't going according to plan; apparently the two people directly below him had also noticed, since they were running as fast as their legs could possibly carry them.

    SMASH!

    Clearly, it didn't work.

    As everyone winced in sympathy, a pair of random policemen rushed towards the scene, just as surprised as the civilians. They quickly overcame that shock, though, as one whipped two pairs of handcuffs out while the other loudly declared that the two groaning flattened people were under arrest.

    The caped guy stared down at the victims beneath him, seeing something that apparently warranted a horrified, "TEAM ROCKET?"

    "You have the right—" the policeman went on, then paused as he stared in disbelief at the caped guy, who was darting away from the scene in terror and nearly tripping on his absurdly long cape.

    Marina loved that cape.

    *

    "I loved that cape," she told Jimmy later, stars in her eyes.

    "I have no idea what you're talking about," Jimmy remarked offhandedly, sipping at his soda. He pretended not to notice Typhlosion smirking at him.

    "Come on!" she laughed, pushing him playfully; he almost toppled off his stool. "You tell me to meet you somewhere, but you don't show up, but a guy dressed as a superhero with the best cape EVER is there? What are the odds, Jimmy? That was you. And I loved that cape."

    "Ha! Crazy girl," he laughed, though he pumped his fist as soon as Marina had become sufficiently distracted by the memory of that cape she loved oh so much.

    "Well, it was also very brave of you," she remarked, after having calmed down slightly. "Jumping off a building like that … and you had to have known those Rockets were there! After all, why else would you have done such a risky, life-threatening jump? The headlines are going on about it like crazy!"

    "'Why' indeed," he agreed, thinking about how terrified he'd been when he realized he wasn't nearly as good a jumper as his wild imagination had led him to believe.

    "Anyway," she went on, not seeming to notice his slight blush or Typhlosion's leer, "everyone's talking about how you took those Rockets down. Apparently you're going to destroy all of Team Rocket itself! The police are broadcasting it all over the place, and I heard from someone who said that somebody else said that there was a rumor that the leader of Team Rocket is going to make sure you get captured or something, but hey, you're the best new superhero around, you can take them!"

    Jimmy blinked. He realized that everything she was saying was completely, one hundred percent true. He'd inadvertently sent the mafia after himself.

    "Oh snap," he murmured.

    *

    Coming up next: CinderleafShipping.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

    Latest PV pair: Shedinja/Sylveon - What if the MST3K guys did Roshomon? I think it would go a little something like this.

  8. #108
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    I like your little tidbits and how you always find a way to surprise with originality and humour. Sometimes I wonder where you come up with such ideas. Gary’s two hands falling in love, Medieval time and iPhone, Follywood, Jackie Walker, Chaser Emok, King Piplup, Hera and the Dimensional Scream…

    Keep it up. I’m interested to see what’s going to come up next.

    About this little story… He’s really crazy, but in a nice way, disguising himself in order to surprise her. Didn’t see the Rockets coming up and… well… poor Jimmy, having all of Team Rocket after him now…

    Oh, and the cap was epic!


    ~Truthfully yours~

  9. #109
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    This was great! Poor, poor Jimmy, inadvertently become a target for a criminal organization! And all to impress Marina too. He must really like her.

    And I just thought of something. What are your favorite shippings?
    http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/...pynegaiday.png" width="468" height="100">

    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  10. #110
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    I was not expecting Jimmy to fall on Team Rocket.

    Also can you put me on the PM list?
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    Help my egg hatch and my Pokemon level.
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  11. #111
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    Yay lots of reviews :D Thank you so much you guys, ILU.

    To be honest, I have no idea how I come up with this stuff. It usually just happens. Though once in a while I see something in TV Tropes that catches my attention and I sneak that in.

    My favorite shippings ... that's a tricky question. There's just so many characters, and a lot of them have a really great dynamic with more than one other person. But I can say with absolute certainty that I support N/any Pokemon, Dia/Pearl/Platina, and Youngster Joey/Rattata. (It helps that mainstream pairings are pretty sickening.)

    And sure, you can be on the PM list. *adds*

    *

    CinderleafShipping // Turtwig & Cyndaquil // PG

    Chomp.

    Squeak.


    "Again."

    Chomp.

    Squeak.


    "Again."

    Chomp. Turtwig paused for the briefest of moments, backing away just a little to give herself room to flex her jaw. All that Biting was starting to make her mouth sore.

    Squeak. The wild fire mouse Pokemon flinched, even though the turtle's teeth had only grasped his long nose for a moment. Turtwig couldn't blame him.

    "Again." Paul's voice was brusque, as if he had been bored with this from the start and nothing would truly entertain him apart from the Cyndaquil bleeding to death.

    She didn't really want to. After all, she was starting to get tired, even though the other Pokemon wasn't putting up a fight. But she knew Paul wouldn't like that. He was the sort of person who took "survival of the fittest" to its most literal extreme, and damn anybody who couldn't pull through. To him, a fire Pokemon who wouldn't summon fire even to defend itself was as useless as a wheelchair-bound man in ice skates, and far less amusing. To him, it didn't matter if a Pokemon had its bones or mind or pride broken, so long as they were broken for him. To him, it was only strength that mattered, regardless of the fact that it was strength borrowed from Pokemon and returned with pain.

    As to why he kept these ideas, she suspected it had something to do with the odd flying pyramid thing they were chasing across this strange region. But that was neither here nor there.

    Jaw muscles trembling slightly, she opened her mouth and prepared to chomp down yet again; but she had barely stepped forward when the fire mouse finally toppled forward, his breathing coming out in ragged pants. She had won.

    "Pathetic," she heard Paul sneer, his sneakers rustling in the long grass as he turned to search for some new victim.

    The Cyndaquil whimpered. Feeling a pang of guilt, Turtwig nervously glanced over her shoulder at her trainer's stiff, slouched back, before scurrying over to her fallen opponent as quietly as she could. They had such strange eyes, she mused, gazing down at him as if he were a baby. You could never quite tell if Pokemon such as those were conscious or not. Considering the sound he had just made, though, she guessed that the former was true, in which case he had been very smart to avoid further conflict.

    "Don't take it to heart," she muttered, her eyes still darting off to the side. "I'm never sure whether he means you, or me."

    She nudged him with a stubby foreleg, then scampered back off before Paul could start wondering what was taking her so long to follow.

    *

    Group training sessions were never fun.

    Paul had never been to Unova, but Turtwig had heard of a species of Pokemon found almost exclusively in that region. Some lizard thing with baggy skin – Scrafty, was that what they called it? They supposedly lived in gangs, stalking Unovan streets in search of some unsuspecting passerby. Should the victim turn the wrong corner, the Scrafty were said to all converge on him at once, beating him to a bloody pulp and stealing what they could from him.

    Those Scrafty assaults were the first thing group training sessions brought to mind.

    Paul's latest catch was a Sneasel. It had been a confident enough Pokemon in its natural mountainous habitat, but now, in the midst of fields and forests and being attacked by five others at once, it was positively quivering.

    Pausing for breath, Turtwig watched as Nidorino stabbed the Sneasel with his horn, gashing its furry side. She still couldn't understand the point of this. What was Paul trying to prove with these pointless exercises? All it did was make the attackers feel smug and the victim feel resentful, bruises and blood aside.

    Sighing, she sent a small flurry of razor-sharp leaves at the weasel Pokemon. Why was the image of that Cyndaquil bothering her so much?

    "Ten-minute break," Paul announced abruptly, still standing stiffly as he overlooked the scene.

    As the Pokemon dispersed, panting and eager to find some food or water, Turtwig thought she heard a faint rustling noise. Turning, she noticed a shape crouching in the bushes, watching her. She had barely got a glimpse of it before it realized it had seen her and quickly scampered off, but she had already identified it.

    Cyndaquil. She frowned thoughtfully, toddling after him as it darted through long grass. Why had he been watching? She could hardly imagine that he wanted to be a member of Paul's team. If he was angry at her, well, she'd set him straight. She was usually angry with herself, too, after dealing out beatings like that.

    He didn't seem to be looking where he was going, for he soon crashed inelegantly into a tree, toppling onto his back and rubbing his long nose. Upon realizing that Turtwig was rapidly getting closer, though, he attempted to scuttle away, only to end up with his back against the tree, cornered and uncertain as to his next move.

    "Why were you watching us?" Turtwig asked, marching up to him.

    Cyndaquil quickly glanced to his left, then his right, then his left, then his right, and so on as his breathing began to take the form of rapid, short pants.

    "Why," she repeated, pushing her face against his, "were you watching us?"

    "Don't hurt me," he mumbled, pushing himself further against the trees. "Don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me don't hurt me—"

    She scoffed. "I'm not going to hurt you, Cyndaquil. I think I've done that enough."

    He stared at her warily, not saying anything.

    She sighed, backing up a little. "I'm sorry. I just don't … I don't get why you'd be so interested in our training. I mean, I would've thought you'd be scared of it enough to run the other way. So why would you be watching us instead? It's just, I don't know, a very odd thing for you to do."

    "Well, I … I …" Cyndaquil swallowed hard. "I guess it might have been because you said sorry, sort of."

    She frowned a little. "Did I?"

    "I don't know, but it felt like it." He shrugged, then glanced around nervously again. "I … I kind of wanted to ask a favor of you, if that's … if that's okay."

    "Well, that would probably depend on the favor, but I think I could manage whatever it is."

    "Okay, so the thing is, you … you beat me, and the trainer you were with was mean, and … and it's not, it's not something I really want to have anymore. Having a trainer, I mean, you know, it wouldn't be … wouldn't be right. So I think I'll be leaving this area, this area soon, because of everyone who comes from all around to train here, and I don't want to get captured, because then I'll, I'll have to deal with trainers like the one you were with. So … would you mind just meeting up with me in an hour or so? I have … I have a couple of things to, to put in order before I go, and I … I need to know where there's a nice secluded place I can live, where only a very few trainers would, would go to train in. You know?"

    She nodded. "I see. Sure, we've been to a few places not many people go. But …" She gave him a curious look. "But why would I need to meet up with you later? Surely you could remember the directions that long, right? Or would your things that need to be put in order take longer than a couple hours?"

    "Well, it's … it's …" He fidgeted a little, glancing to the side. "I think I would have wanted to see you one more time."

    "…"

    "Because you're pretty nice," he admitted. "Especially for someone following that trainer you're with."

    "… I see," she said again, not sure what to make of his statements. He thought she was nice? That was a new one. Granted, she knew she wasn't nearly as bloodthirsty as Paul's other Pokemon, but how on earth did that justify a description of "nice"? She fought when and how she was told, which, considering Paul, tended to be very often and rather brutally. Only the most abused and neglected and downtrodden of Pokemon would be so generous in calling her—

    Oh.

    She watched him stare innocently up at her, and before she knew what she was doing, her stubby forelegs had wrapped around his body in a tight hug.

    "Erk!" he grunted, trying to breathe.

    "I'm sorry," she told him, loosening her hold a little. "I didn't know you'd been through that."

    "It's fine," he assured her, tentatively returning her embrace. "It's … it's fine. Thanks for not hurting me as much as in our battle."

    "As long as I can help it, I won't hurt you again." She waited for a moment before pulling away, looking him in the eye. "Meet me in this spot when you're done with whatever you need to do, okay?"

    "Okay," he agreed, a small smile appearing beneath his long snout. He paused, as if considering whether to add something to that word, but then turned and scampered away.

    Smiling after him, Turtwig memorized the look of the tree he had stood against, then backtracked before Paul could start wondering what she was up to. It would be a good thing, she decided, to help a sweet, timid creature like Cyndaquil find a new direction to head off in, away from trainers.

    Paul turned as she approached him, holding out her Poke Ball and abruptly sucking her into nothingness before she could protest. Two days would pass before she would be released again.

    And it would take Cyndaquil four hours of waiting by the tree, followed by two hours of searching the area for her and one hour of being chased by a trainer in a cap, to realize that he was alone.

    *

    Paul entered the Lily of the Valley Conference again.

    He was beaten. Again.

    She ambled along a well-worn path to meet up with her trainer, who had donned a false face of sportsmanship and graceful loss until he had stepped out of his rival's sight. His rival … she sighed, still shaking her head. Was it really any surprise that the cruel, calculating Darwinist she had served for so long had been trounced by a naďve trainer believing in the power of friendship? It had happened before, many times. And it would happen again, she knew, no matter how many gym badges he earned or trainer's dreams he crushed.

    The sound of something scampering along gravel caught her ear. Feeling a faint twinge of curiosity, she laboriously turned her mountainous body a little, to see who else had chosen to come by this way.

    Why did that slender, mossy-green-and-yellow body seem familiar …?

    Then his red eyes met hers, and as he slowed to a stop, they both stared, and they knew.

    "Cyndaquil …?" she asked, not quite believing it. She understood he was a new species now, though it was still difficult for to think of him as anything but that timid, long-snouted mouse she had defeated and then befriended all those years ago.

    The smile died on his face. "You never came," he stated quietly, but with the accusatory force of an anguished scream.

    "Cyndaquil, I …"

    But he trotted past her, turning and scampering along the path to congratulate his triumphant trainer.

    And she was alone.

    *

    Coming up next: RubusShipping.
    Last edited by SugarPesticide; 12th October 2011 at 5:28 AM.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

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  12. #112
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    Awww. That was so sweet! And sad. I'm guessing that Cyndiquil was Ash's. I hate Paul. He's always been a stuck up arrogant little jerk. I. HATE. HIM!!!

    I feel so sorry for Turtwig. She wanted to see Cyndaquil but Paul sucked her up in her Pokeball.
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    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  13. #113
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    Poor Cyndaquil… It was good that he was caught by such a kind-hearted trainer. And the end was so sad! And to think it wasn’t her fault… I must agree that I hate Paul too. Oh, and how many years have passed since their last meeting?

    ~Truthfully yours~

  14. #114
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    Yep, the Cyndaquil is Ash's. And I don't really know how long it's been since their last meeting; the anime is pretty vague about how time passes. So I'll just say that it's been however long the gap was between Cyndaquil's capture and Paul's defeat at Ash's hands, and leave it at that.

    Incidentally, I also despise Paul. I'm not sure what his fans see in him :/ If there's one thing consistent in these one-shots, it's that he's the same insufferable jerkass that he is in canon.

    Also you guys I'm obliged to warn you that there is incest in this one. So if such things offend you, you might want to skip it.

    *

    RubusShipping // Azelf & Mesprit // PG-13

    "Azelf!" the ditzy pixie exclaimed abruptly. "I have amazing news! You and I are going to get naked!"

    Her brother, who had been gazing at himself in the sparkly mirror, gave her a brief distracted glare. "Mesprit," he stated absentmindedly, "we're Pokemon."

    She giggled, tossing her thick pink tresses out from beneath the pillow. "So?"

    "So not only is that a nonsensical idea, but it's a ridiculous one as well. And yes, I understand that they're synonyms, it's a useful rhetorical tool in emphasizing that idea's attribute." He raised an eyebrow at his reflection experimentally, leaning in to examine his ridiculously handsome face. "I suggest you abandon it as soon as possible."

    "But Aziiiiie, we could play games with costumes," she whined, teasing the covers of the enormous bed with her tiny fingers. "Like you could be the uber-Jedi person, and I could be that girl who has hair like Uxie's. Or maybe I could be that one person who kills vampires, and you could be a vampire, and we could fight for a reeeeeally long time until suddenly my character realizes I like you, and then you turn into a fairy and we fall in love and live happily ever after! And then we could get naked."

    He scoffed, tilting his pointed head to the left, then to the right, keeping an eye on how he appeared; it was important to look equally sexy from every angle. "No."

    "But it'd be—"

    "No."

    She flinched ever so slightly. Satisfied that the God Voice had ended that particular line of discussion, Azelf struck a pose, placing his hands on his tiny hips as he smirked at his reflection.

    Some people might have said that will was a stupid thing for a legendary to govern. What was the point, mortals often asked, if it wasn't going to be beautiful like Ho-oh's rainbows or terrifying like Darkrai's nightmares? Never mind that pretty colors in the sky affected nothing at all, or that several Pokemon had no need of sleep and couldn't be touched through such terror. It was like some kiddy TV show, really, thinking that massive explosions and colorful beams were the pinnacle of power. Stupid and juvenile, like Lugia's whole cupcake incident a while ago.

    But to control someone's will – the inner drive at their very core, as well as the more fleeting desires – to hold all of that in the palm of one's hand and shape it as one wanted … well, Azelf would take that over thunderstorms or volcanoes any day. After all, he could tell anyone to do anything, and it would be done. Speak in the God Voice, and listeners would obey.

    None of the other legendaries had yet admitted that he was the most powerful of them all. That was fine with him. He didn't want to be the one to deal with millions of mortals' prayers, or be woken up from his nice naps to avert natural disasters that should have driven people to evacuate instead of just stupidly hanging around and hoping they wouldn't have to drive a whole five miles to get away from the tsunami or whatever. No, he preferred more lucrative ventures. Particularly his hobby of screwing anyone and everyone he wished to screw, regardless of how they would have felt about it if he hadn't used the God Voice to "convince" them.

    And it was awesome.

    Satisfied that he looked as sexy as ever, Azelf psychically pulled his clipboard out of hammerspace and browsed through the many papers attached to it. His eyes skimmed the long list of species, searching for – there! Mesprit's name, right between Uxie and Dialga. He put a check mark next to her name, then flipped to the last page and put down another tally mark.

    And that made two hundred and ninety-eight, he thought proudly, sending the To-Screw list back into hammerspace. Almost three hundred. Sometimes it seemed incredible that he had already slept with so many species. But afterwards, of course, he would quickly remind himself that of course he had – nobody could resist the winning combination of his sexiness and his God Voice.

    "Well," he remarked after half an hour of gazing at his unbelievable handsomeness in the mirror, "you weren't that bad, Mesprit."

    She giggled that annoying giggle she was always giggling at everyone. "Thanks! Can we play with costumes now?"

    "Of course not," he scoffed, floating towards the bedroom door; to his annoyance, she was following just a few paces behind. "I have things to do today, after all. All over the world, actually. Plus the God Car needs some tuning up, and I have to be at the mechanic's at one this afternoon."

    Her eyes lit up. "The God Car?" she squealed, spinning around in a miniature pink and blue tornado. "I love the God Car!"

    "So do I," he agreed, "it's a pretty sexy ride."

    "I love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love—"

    "Stop gushing about the God Car!"

    "… But I really do," she whined, gazing up at him with enormous, soulful puppy dog eyes.

    "Everyone does," he said, rolling his eyes. "Now, I need to go. Thanks for the fun, sis."

    And he hurried out the door, down twelve glittery pink staircases, and out through the huge bejeweled doors of Mesprit's mansion before she could tag along behind him.

    The grounds around the mansion were pretty enough, with all the perfectly trimmed lawns, and colorful singing flowers in the gardens, and princesses holding hands and dancing around in a circle in their ridiculously elaborate and colorful dresses, and winged Rapidash with multicolored manes and tails galloping in herds along the rainbows stretching from here to the pretty pink mountains sparkling in the distance. It was all very well and good, if you could stomach it.

    But that all paled in comparison to the God Car, sitting coolly on the lawn just in front of the mansion.

    It was … just awesome. No words do justice to the God Car, which was so ridiculously cool that mortals would be compelled to tear their eyes out upon looking at it, for the sole reason that they knew they were extremely unworthy to look upon its awesomeness. By lucky coincidence, though, it was usually invisible to all mortals, which is fortunate since the author also happens to be mortal and needed a first-hand account from Azelf to hear about what the God Car looked like. It seems, however, that the God Car's awesomeness leaks out into even conversations about it, because about five words into Azelf's description struck such awe and wonder into the author that she nearly stabbed herself with her pen, because she just had to see the God Car for herself no matter what. She got better, but she was only lucky. There is little telling how many victims the God Car has claimed with its sheer awesomeness.

    So for all intents and purposes concerning the audience, it was invisible.

    Anyway, Azelf hopped into the indescribable God Car, leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes in satisfaction. It had already been a good day, he decided. Here he was, the most powerful being in the world, sitting in the most awesome car in the world, sitting on the immaculate lawn of the most ridiculously over-the-top mansion in the world, and he was one step closer to having slept with every last Pokemon species in the world. Life definitely couldn't get any better than this …

    He frowned.

    "What," he said flatly, not opening his eyes, "what do you think you're doing."

    "Coming with you, of course!" a voice chimed happily. "It'll be fun!"

    He shifted his head just enough to glare effectively at Mesprit, who had somehow gotten into the passenger seat without him initially realizing it. "No."

    "But we never do anything!" she whined, folding her arms.

    "… Because last night was completely uneventful," he retorted.

    "That didn't count! You're just doing your hobby thingy, it doesn't really mean anything and it was probably kinda forgettable for you anyway. But we never do anything as brother and sister!" She made an astonishingly guilt-inducing pouty face. Nobody could pout like Mesprit. "Can't we just hang out like we used to? That was so much fun, just driving around in the God Car and laughing at Lugia's cupcake thing and having fun!"

    He opened his mouth, ready to give her a big, resounding no in reply …

    But he couldn't do it.

    Somehow, staring into her heavy-lidded puppy dog eyes, he couldn't bring himself to shut down her desire to have fun together. Guilt and sadness and longing suddenly flooded over him, and a lump automatically filled his throat. He tried to swallow it, but it simply wouldn't give.

    "S-stop doing that," he managed to choke out, eyes streaming.

    Mesprit blinked innocently. "Doing what?"

    "D-doing that weird … emotion b-bomb thing." He put a hand to this throat, demanded the lump to leave with a forceful thought, and gasped for air for a few moments. "I …" he wheezed, glaring at her sorrowfully. "I h-hate it! Why do you always toy with m-me like this?"

    "I only just started," she pouted. "And anyway, you did it first, telling me to love you with your God Voice, so it's only fair I get back somehow … not that I minded you did that in the first place," she admitted, giggling. "I just want to have fun, Azzie, is that so wrong?"

    "Okay!" he rasped, feeling his heart about to break. "Okay, p-please, s-stop, I'll take you for a drive! Let go …"

    She smiled at him, and suddenly everything was right again. Too right. He suppressed a shiver, knowing she was probably still playing with his emotions, albeit far less painfully than before. It was tolerable, though, and he spent only a moment getting a grip on himself before turning the key in the ignition.

    "That was kind of your fault, you know," she remarked, her eyes twinkling as she watched him pull the God Car forwards, hood angling towards the sky.

    "You just told me that." He shifted gears, allowing the God Car to float up more quickly.

    "Besides that," she amended. "You had feelings for me, Azzie, I just built on them. I can't whip up emotions from nowhere, can I?"

    "… That's irrelevant."

    "You like me," she teased, poking him in the side. "Azzie likes me, Azzie liiiiiiikes—"

    "Mesprit—!"

    This time, when he abruptly paused, it wasn't because of her and her emotion powers, which he now had to admit were pretty close to his own in potency. Not equal, of course. His were sexier. But hers … hers were subtler, less forceful. He wondered briefly whether she might have been manipulating him from the start, but he couldn't muster up the indignant paranoia to care.

    No, this time he paused because of that bump the God Car had passed over.

    "Azzie!" Mesprit exclaimed, pointing out the window at something behind the God Car. "Aren't you going to tell that Swanna you're sorry?"

    "Sorry I ran over your neck, Swanna."

    "Good. Time for fun times!" She laughed, slipping an arm over his shoulders. "I've missed being with you, Azzie."

    "I … guess I missed being with you too." The words were painful, but somehow a relief. He wasn't sure why.

    "And the God Car."

    "And the God Car," he repeated distractedly, as a small smile made its way onto his face.

    His eyes roamed the brilliant sky ahead of him, filled with puffy white clouds and rainbows. The most awesome being in the world, patting the head of the most annoying sister in the world as she snuggled up to him as close as the gearshift would allow, with the earth beneath seeming to shine in the sunlight …

    His earlier self stood corrected. Now life couldn't get any better than this.

    *

    Coming up next: LunarEclipseShipping.
    FF.Net profile | Blazing Frost | Project Valentine | River Styx | Hexachromalurgy | Fizzy Bubbles

    Latest PV pair: Shedinja/Sylveon - What if the MST3K guys did Roshomon? I think it would go a little something like this.

  15. #115
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    Oh my GOD!! I can't stop laughing!! I loved Azelf's perverted, sick little hobby and his playboyish attitude. And Mesprit was similar to cheerleader. That is to say, stupid, girlish, and annoying. I loved every bit of it!
    http://i1082.photobucket.com/albums/...pynegaiday.png" width="468" height="100">

    "To date, life has been a race between software companies making bigger and better idiot proof machines, and the Universe making bigger and better idiots. The Universe is winning." -Unknown

  16. #116
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    Wonderful one! It was a bit awkward that two siblings are having It, but the way you presented it, it was smoothed down actually.

    The God Voice was awesome, but even more awesome was (of course) the God Car. The Union of Unfortunate Writers sends their regards to the author, wish her a speedy recovery and inform her that they are now collecting money to buy her a non-stab-able pen, so to avoid any further accidents.

    I love how you always use the same pattern of repeating a single word or phrase (“don’t kill me, don’t kill me, don’t…”, “I love, love, love, love,…”)

    Seems Azelf has a nice hobby, or… maybe a sport? Imagine it would become as popular as catching all Pokémon for the Pokédex… But he won’t be able to screw all species… he can’t screw himself… I guess…

    Nice description of her place, by the way. But of course:

    But that all paled in comparison to the God Car, sitting coolly on the lawn just in front of the mansion.
    I loved Azelf’s arrogance and Mesprit controlling him. It was a nice twist in the end.

    Keep it up.

    ~Truthfully yours~

  17. #117
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    The author sends the Union of Unfortunate Writers her gratitude, although she has to wonder how exactly a pen would have to be shaped in order to frustrate the attempts of eye-stabbing. It is indeed a curious matter.

    I love Azelf a lot, really, since he's so full of himself. He's so obnoxious that it loops all the way back around to likability. And his goal isn't really that impossible; there's probably another Azelf floating around in the universe. Or maybe he could meet himself in another dimension.

    *

    LunarEclipseShipping // Darkrai & Cresselia // PG-13

    A dry chuckle snapped the silence in two. "Fancy encountering you in this place, dearest counterpart."

    She froze, still hovering over the sleeping one, concentration broken, power scattered. Unperturbed by this, the boy continued his unending slumber, as unmoving as stone; only the very faint rising and falling of his chest indicated there was still life in him.

    "Come, come now. Are you not going to tell me hello again? After all this time, too. Has it really been so long, I wonder … Do you suppose this is what mortals mean when it is said, 'we have been a lifetime apart?' Difficult as it is to understand such concepts … though I suppose this one would make the time shorter than most, in such a case."

    She sensed something shifting in the shadows, as if the unseen creature were nodding towards the unconscious boy. Trembling slightly, she closed her eyes, willing herself not to give into the temptation of looking around. "Leave this place."

    "Oh, but leave all the fun behind? That is a hard thing to ask of your dearest friend, is it not?"

    "At what point have I ever considered you to be my friend?" Silently casting her thoughts about, she cautiously probed at her nemesis's mind for any sign of weaknesses. Given the choice, she would prefer to flee, but it never hurt to claim an advantage should conflict be the only choice. "You have harassed me – harassed all who cross your path, in fact. I find no reason to treat you with any measure of respect, foul one."

    "Harsh words from a pretty throat," the other cooed mockingly. A brief pause, silent but for the boy's shallow breaths. Then, in a more businesslike tone: "I see. You do realize you cannot hope to defeat me, do you not? You are intelligent, fair counterpart, you understand your chances. I always triumph before the morning dawns."

    "I have the advantage," she stated sharply.

    "In what?" her foe snickered. "Certainly not sheer power. We are fueled by dreams, you and I, and you are too often shunned by the minds of mortals. Particularly with those visions—"

    "They need to see the truth!" Her voice escaped in a hiss, letting slip her growing anxiety. "They must know of the creatures in the parallel dimensions. It is an age of learning and reason, and they have already made many discoveries – it follows that they must discover them sooner or later. The visions will ease them into the knowledge more smoothly, that no mortal must be driven mad as a result. Not that you have ever cared for sanity …" She trailed off, shaking her head. "I have told you all of this before."

    "And yet it greatly amuses me every time you so vehemently repeat it."

    She resisted the urge to snarl. "Why are you here?"

    "I wanted to find you, and so I did." The voice in the shadows chuckled, an infuriating sound. "I understand what you are attempting here, dearest counterpart. This mortal is your would-be prophet, hm?" A faint rustling, as though the creature was pointlessly gesturing towards the comatose boy, completely unaware of the conversation above him. "Learning of those things … he shall wake up eventually, you know. Sooner or later, as you said. Do you plan to let him relate to his pitiful civilization the knowledge of those other worlds which grow sideways from our own? You will not succeed in this venture, I am sorry to say. An earlier, sweeter waking will cast your activity here to ruin."

    "This is none of your business."

    "This is my business, as you well know. For we are dark and light, and it would be a shame not to thwart one another at every opportunity. A pity you have always fled from me."

    Something softly touched the small of her back, surprisingly gentle for so foul a creature. She floated there, paralyzed by astonishment, as the creature lightly traced the curves of her bones, moving across her shoulders and up her neck in a tickling motion that drew an involuntary shudder from her. Right behind her, likely, floating eerily in the starlight filtering through the bedroom window …

    "A pity," the creature whispered, cool breath washing over half of her face, "I could never catch you …"

    She could feel her counterpart's body pressed close against her now, cool chest against a warm back, heavy head resting on a small shoulder. Something hot flared deep within her stomach, whispering at her to turn her head around and look to her side, even as her instincts screamed at her to flee, to escape from this monster and start anew her attempts at the enlightenment of mortals. This is wrong, she thought, though the notion was almost drowned out by the blood pounding in her head. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong ...

    "I have sent a Hero." The words seemed to dance in the humid air like silk, crawling down her spine like a feathery-legged insect. "Young and naďve, the sort I prefer. Pure-hearted, pure-minded – the perfect tool. He will thwart your plan for me, and through the power I send him I will watch your efforts become like dust. You simply cannot win against me, dearest counterpart.

    "For I … will … overpower you."

    There were a few moments of strange silence, before the creature withdrew from her with agonizing slowness, rustling softly, sliding away as if reluctantly. She shivered again, still feeling coolness in the places where her counterpart had touched her, now a less comfortable chill than when they had actually been in contact.

    "You may flee, if you choose." The voice brought a triumphant smirk to mind. "I have business here."

    She could no longer restrain herself; fear and perhaps a little shame overwhelmed her.

    She fled, twisting and melting into the shadows of the night.

    The last things to flash across her vision, before sliding into the safety of her darkness, were Cresselia's eyes boring intently, almost hungrily, into her own.

    *

        Spoiler:- In case you didn't get it:


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  18. #118
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    Not bad. I didn't get the fact that both were female until you said it. Lots of people tend to think of Darkrai as a boy.

    Pretty good I think. There was lots of romance at the end, although most of it was on Darkrai's doing.
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    Quite eerie. I like how you switched their roles: Darkrai trying to help people with visions rather than torment them with nightmares, Cresselia being a foul creature, trying to thwart Darkrai’s plan… Darkrai seems somehow weak and helpless…

    Keep it up.

    ~Truthfully yours~

  20. #120
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    Well I do have a weird habit of messing with stereotypes of fanon. Like how Darkrai could be a girl, of course, since to me it looks even more feminine than Reshiram. But that's tame compared to some other strange ideas of mine, like Mew being a little god of evil. Or Meloetta being a guy. Very weird, indeed, but it's still a fun thing to consider.

    *

    PangaeaShipping // Torterra & Snorlax // PG

    For several long seconds they could only stare. There couldn't have been a mountain anywhere near here, they knew, and it was such a large mountain that only a blind person or a complete idiot could have missed it. And they were fairly sure that they were neither blind nor idiots, though of course such things are usually matters of perspective.

    When Forrest finally spoke up, his tone was confused and slightly accusatory. "You did check the map, right?"

    "That I did." Just to be sure, Emily the Snorlax reached back with a stubby arm into the bag draped on her shoulder, pulling out an old bit of parchment. Because there's no such thing as a new bit of parchment, that's why. Even though that violates the laws of physics and common sense. "See, we turned left at that big statue of the Lucario, and then followed the river for a couple miles—"

    "How many miles exactly?" Forrest interrupted a little tersely.

    She shrugged, causing a minor tremor in the earth with her movement. "No idea. I fell asleep while we were walking, I wasn't really paying attention."

    "… You fell asleep while we were walking," the Torterra repeated flatly.

    "What else was I supposed to do?" she asked, causing him to facefault. Unfortunately, this produced an earthquake that dislodged several trees and caused several small cute Pokemon nearby to roll across the ground in a bouncy sort of way, squeaking in protest.

    Abruptly a booming voice blasted from the mountain. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY RESORT?"

    "Oh, great," Forrest moaned, rubbing his head with an enormous paw. "Now some giant thing even bigger than us is going to attack and … ugh …"

    Emily frowned thoughtfully. "Did it say resort?"

    "Who cares what it said? You got us into trouble, that's all that matters right now."

    "How did I get us into this mess? You could've thought to ask me for the map—"

    "Why would I do that when you were asleep?"

    "Well, it never stopped you before, did it?"

    "… What's that supposed to mean?"

    He just shook his head.

    "You know," Emily stated after a moment's thought, "maybe we should deal with that thing up there, whatever it is. It sounds like it'd be the boss of this area, so it'd probably have that mysterious item we came for in the first place. So I'm going to go and fight it for it."

    "You're crazy," Forrest stated bluntly, watching as she began to waddle forward at her usual slow pace. "You know that, right?"

    "Maybe. But this was all your idea in the first place, so what does that say about you?"

    "…" He stared at her back as she continued to move away, duty and common sense wrestling in his brain, before he decided that he might as well try and avoid the paperwork that would have come from her getting lost. Shaking his head, hardly believing he was actually doing this, he moved his enormous body to walk alongside hers.

    *

    After several long, tedious hours of walking, due to Emily being unbelievably slow even for a Snorlax, they reached the mountain, climbed up its rocky slope, and eventually made their way to its peak. Normally Forrest would have wondered why they hadn't encountered any wild Pokemon, but at this point he was too tired, annoyed, and nervous to care.

    "Hm," Emily mused, gazing down at the ground far below. "I wonder … If I jumped off the mountain right now, would I get smashed when I hit the ground, or would I bounce like a balloon? I guess it might depend on how high up we are, and the terminal velocity, but I still don't think it would hurt that much."

    "Balloons don't bounce," Forrest said irritably. "They explode. Now come on, I don't want to have to deal with whatever if you end up killing yourself."

    "TOO BAD," a voice stated behind them.

    Startled, they swiveled around – or rather, they would have swiveled around, were it not for their enormous bulk. As it was, they had to waddle as they shifted precariously at the edge of the mountaintop, turning slowly in a circle as they prepared to face whatever it was.

    "Oh," Bernie the Evil Dragonair blurted, quickly setting down the megaphone, suddenly fully aware that each of them had to be more than five times his size. "Crap. Um … leave, intruders! This is your last warning, or else I shall be forced to … um, to punish you. In a very nasty way. You wouldn't like me when I'm punishing you. But then again, nobody does …"

    But they weren't listening, as they were too busy staring over him at the tropical paradise behind him.

    "A waterfall?" Forrest asked incredulously, blinking at the sight of a cascade of water crashing into an otherwise serene blue pond. "Up here? It's freezing!"

    "Wow." Emily gazed at all the tropical plant life, swaying in a gentle breeze. "He wasn't kidding when he said this was a resort."

    "Um … yes," Bernie agreed cautiously. "I grew it myself."

    "All of it?"

    "All of it, yes."

    "Even the mountain?"

    "Emily, don't be ridiculous, you can't—"

    "Especially the mountain."

    "…"

    "What."

    "I know!" Bernie crowed, feeling his old sense of pride returning. "I have done something none other has done before in the history of all time: growing a mountain!"

    "How—?"

    "Very carefully, that's how. Now listen," the Evil Dragonair commanded, doing his best to look intimidating. "This is my resort, fools. And I'm not even planning on doing anything evil this week, so if you attack me you will be booed off the stage for your violence, or something, I dunno. So leave before I get really annoyed at you."

    "Well, we might," Emily told him. "We're looking for something, you see. We're on a trial mission right now, and we need to find the Sphere of Heart and bring it back to Team Conundrum before they'll let us join. It was supposed to be in this area, but then there was this mountain thing, so it might be up here, I think."

    Forrest rolled his eyes.

    "Oh, do-gooders," Bernie sighed, shaking his head in sadness at how prominent those heroes were becoming. "Hm. Sphere of Heart, would that be a silver globe or … yes? Yes, I have that. Don't have any use for it, so you can have it." He shot through the air towards the waterfall, plucked something from nearby it, and rushed back towards them, the Sphere of Heart clutched in his tail. "Just make sure you leave, okay?" he asked, tossing it towards Emily. "I was actually relaxing for the first time in my hilariously tragic life."

    Managing to catch it with her stubby paws, the Snorlax gazed at its smooth surface – and was astonished to see that both she and Forrest were glowing bright silver. "What the … what is this?" she asked, not sure whether she should be worried about this.

    "I don't know, but try to stop it if you can," Forrest grunted, scowling down at himself. "I look terrible in silver."

    "It won't stop," Bernie stated, a smirk playing at his mouth. "… You don't know about the magic of the Sphere? Really? It's said that when a person holds it, he – or she, I suppose – will glow, as will the person they care for most in the world." He was openly grinning now. "And the intensity of their mutual affection is reflected in that glow."

    "… What," Forrest repeated.

    "Yes, very weird, but very true."

    "But that doesn't make sense!" Emily protested, ignoring the nagging thought that had entered her mind. "We've only known each other for, what, a week or something."

    "Then it's even weirder." Bernie allowed himself a few moments more satisfaction of watching them squirm uncomfortably, before putting on a businesslike face again. "Now get out, both of you. This is my place, and in any case I don't want to be around when you start making out. Yuck."

    The two giant Pokemon turned around obediently, still feeling awkward. "He's lying," Forrest grunted, carefully setting a forepaw on the mountain's slope.

    "Well, of course he is," Emily agreed, as they began the long trek back down. "It came out of nowhere, and it doesn't even make any sense."

    The Torterra nodded. "Finally, something we agree on."

    "But we also agree that Team Conundrum is the best," the Snorlax countered, moving even slower than usual due to still grasping the Sphere of Heart.

    "… Well, yes, that's why we're joining them instead of those other people."

    "And that we make a good team."

    "Only because your Focus Punch is a—"

    "And we both like chocolate-covered Pecha—"

    "Stop blowing this out of proportion!" Forrest growled, nearly losing his footing as he looked over and glared at her indignantly. "You don't need to start getting ridiculous ideas just because some Evil Dragonair randomly told you that the magical artifact points out your one true love or whatever they're calling it these days."

    "But he did have a point, I think."

    He turned his head away, partially to look for his next foothold and partially to hide the growing color on his cheeks.

    She grinned mischievously at this, before turning her thoughts again toward what a freefall from this height would feel like.

    *

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  21. #121
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    Hilarious, totally hilarious. Giants + Evil Dragonair = So Much Fun. I liked this one so much. Hurrah for the unexpected return of the Evil Dragonair, and dilemmas about freefalls from mountains… Nice dialogues (as always) and the touch with their bulk causing them such movement problems… Also, a good combination of comical characters.

    Keep it up.

    ~Truthfully yours~

  22. #122
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    Hmm. Not too shabby! It didn't have alot of romance in it, but it was pretty funny! I liked how the "Evil Dragonair" was using a megaphone the whole time, and how she gave the stone away! Priceless.
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  23. #123
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    Thanks guys :D Yeah, Torterra and Snorlax aren't exactly romantic Pokemon, so that one wasn't easy to slip shipping into. Ah well. Bernie is a boss, though.

    But anyway. Yay for more obscure people from Ranger!

    *

    Who'sOnTopTonightShipping // Sven & Wendy // G

    Dust and bits of dead grass were swept away in the sudden rush of wind, cleaning the runway in a rather unorthodox way. Thus Keith, who had decided to stand right in the path of the approaching airplane for some reason, received a mouthful and eyeful of dust, and of course was forced to cough in disgust. Only when he had rubbed the stuff out of his eyes did he realize the fighter pilot was practically upon him; with a shocked yell he threw himself to the pavement, cringing as the plane's wheels sliced through the air where his head had been a second before.

    Various Rangers in the crowd nearby cringed at the near miss. Kellyn just rolled his eyes, though. Typical Keith: the guy was practically married to danger. And it wasn't a normal marriage, either, with the ones involved in it acting normal. It was more like danger was some crazy girl who clung to the idiot's shoulder, giggling and trying to jump on his back all the time.

    The guy standing next to him was looking super excited, fiddling with his cowboy hat and staring intently at the plane for some reason. Kellyn wasn't sure why; everyone knew that Keith had acted far stupider in the past, so today's near-death experience wasn't something to get excited over.

    On the runway, the fighter plane touched the pavement, wings bouncing slightly as it began to slow down. Several members of the crowd, growing more confident that its speed was no longer enough to kill a man, started to flock in the direction in which they assumed it would come to a stop.

    "Can you believe it?" Kate had somehow managed to reach his side without him noticing. He made a mental note to work on his peripheral vision, in case Keith tried to pull off the same thing. "Wendy's finally home! It's been way, way too long, hasn't it, Kellyn?"

    He watched in disinterest as the pilot pulled off her helmet and tucked it under her arm, shaking out her green hair as if it needed to breathe or something. "The one who helped us out that one time?" he asked, raising his voice a little to be heard over the hiss of the cockpit and the cheers of the crowd.

    "If you mean the Dialga incident, yes."

    "I didn't know she'd left," he remarked, causing her to facefault. "It's not like she ever did anything, so there's no way I would've remembered her."

    "Be nice, Kellyn," she scolded.

    Naturally he ignored her, instead keeping his eyes ahead on the scene before them, lazily moving from one person to the next as they all bunched around the plane. Keith was still sprawled on the pavement, rubbing his head as he stared at them in confusion. The idiot. Barlow and Crawford had come forward to help get her luggage out, as well they should. And there was that Isaac person, practically tripping over himself to get out of the way of … wait, what?

    "What's with that person over there?" Kellyn found himself asking, gesturing at the man with the cowboy hat. The guy was practically swimming through the Rangers, doing his best to reach the plane and almost accidentally knocking over everyone in his path.

    Kate gave him a look. "Don't tell me you've forgotten Sven's name, too."

    "If they don't do anything notable, I forget about them," he replied serenely. "But what's he doing?"

    At the plane, Sven finally arrived at the front of the crowd just as Wendy jumped out onto the pavement. Although they were a fair distance away from all the action, Kellyn and Kate could easily see the looks of pure joy on the adults' faces as they gazed at one another for a long moment, before rushing into each other's arms for a tight embrace.

    The Rangers cheered.

    Kellyn blinked.

    Kate couldn't help but shoot a grin at him. "Does that answer your question?"

    "Not really," he replied, resulting in another facefault from her.

    "Kellyn …" She sighed, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. "You're too silly. They've been going out for ages, but when Wendy first sailed off to Unova to look at those planes, a whole two months ago … well, I guess you could say Sven was pretty sad."

    He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the couple, which was now chattering excitedly to each other. "Well, now they can stop angsting about it," he stated.

    "Exactly!" Kate's eyes shone with gleeful excitement as the two turned back towards the plane, Sven helping her step back into the cockpit before climbing in himself. "I think the whole thing was worth it, though. For them, I mean."

    "Hm?"

    "You know how Wendy … well, of course you wouldn't know it, but Wendy loves flying. More than practically anything—"

    "Except Ace Cowboy over there, apparently."

    "—and it's even the reason why she has a flying-type for a partner. But yeah, she was always a bit sad leaving him on the ground, alone or whatever romantic people call it. Her old plane broke down, though, so she had to get a new one that's in good condition. I guess she kept Sven in mind while deciding on which one to get …"

    The Rangers had begun to scatter from the front of the plane, screaming and laughing as it swung sharply around, quickly beginning to pick up speed before taking off into the air once more. Keith, of course, had apparently seen it fit to stand up at the exact moment it was over him; one of the retracting wheels caught on his shirt, and he was soon lifted up as well, yelling something incoherently as he trailed beneath the ever-ascending plane.

    Kellyn was so busy staring at this display of sheer idiocy that he almost missed Kate's wistful words.

    "'Cause you know how Unovans make fighter planes, Kellyn? With two cockpit seats placed side by side, instead of just one."

    A smile twitched on his face, though she couldn't tell whether it was due to her information or to watching his rival deal with such a predicament. She sighed to herself and turned her gaze upwards as well, watching the fighter plane corkscrew through the air with a thoroughly panicky brunette in tow.

    *

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  24. #124
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    Sweet, light, nice. I liked it that you used other persons’ point of view instead of the shipping pair. Keith was awesome and I liked Kellyn’s personality. And the ending was wonderful.

    Keep it up.


    ~Truthfully yours~

  25. #125
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    Finally got around to reviewing. And I wished I'd read this sooner! It was really funny. I loved Keith's idiocy. I mean, standing out in the middle OC the run way? Good lord that was dangerous. And the end was hilarious as well! And Kellyn's inconsiderateness and inability to remember a NPC character's name, that was real funny as well! And it wasn't bad in the romance department either. I liked how Sven missed Wendy so much.
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