Bulbagarden Forums - Stories http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/ Write a story to catch Pokemon. A Grader will then decide if it catches or not. en Thu, 23 May 2013 05:09:56 GMT vBulletin 60 http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/images/styles/Millenium/misc/rss.png Bulbagarden Forums - Stories http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/ The Early Bird Gets the Bagworm (Regrade needed) http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/early-bird-gets-bagworm-regrade-needed-151207/ Tue, 21 May 2013 23:20:19 GMT


For lack of a better word, Dark Cave had been horrendous.

Axion, Scizor, and Magnezone lay among the scattered grass at the eastern exit of the underground void, drying off and enjoying the sunlight the warm afternoon sun was providing. Despite their preparations, the trio had underestimated the pitfalls and challenges they had been presented with. As seemed to be a new habit for him, Axion had lost his backpack. Only a grueling climb down a narrow crevasse had ensured that some small portion of the packed supplies had survived the journey. Mainly, the majority of food was gone. The blue rounded blobs Axion had caught a glimpse of had seen to that during his descent. However, there was no point in turning back now; he doubted they would even be able to retrace their steps. Thus, the party had obviously opted to continue on.

After another few moments of resting, Axion sat up to view their surroundings. Behind him lay the gaping maw of the cave entrance, still a haunting memory long after the nightmare had passed on. In the opposite direction, two paths lay before him. The southern route, accentuated by nothing more than some small scattered rock outcroppings, was a relatively flat path that would eventually lead to New Bark Town. Apparently, they had accidentally exited the cave in the wrong location; Axion had not expected such a level area. However, the path leading northeast was exactly as expected: A moderate uphill slope, with trees and grass unevenly spaced which would eventually lead to Blackthorn City at its peak.That was Axion’s planned destination, where the Dragon’s Den lay. He hoped that himself and his companions might be allowed to view the dragon master’s training, and learn useful strategies in the process. However, He had to get there.
Finally standing, Axion attempted to shake the last of the water off his pale skin and long, thin hair.Dry as possible for the moment , he looked over at his two Pokemon. Scizor, recently evolved from his greener form, had increased in height, now easily able to look down at his shorter trainer. Getting up from its previously prone position, Scizor stretched and returned his trainer’s gaze. “See-zor!” he yelled confidently , which Axion took to mean that his primary partner was ready to continue on their journey. Magnezone lazily rotated itself in the air, floating about as if by magic. With a few turns of the magnets on its side, it reoriented itself in the general direction of the other two and gave off a few minor sparks, seemingly of the same opinion as Scizor. Axion then gave acknowledgment to the pair of them. “Alright then, onward to Blackthorn City.” The trio began moving along the sloping path at a respectable pace, determined to reach their destination.

As the sun began to cloak itself behind the rocky hills surrounding them, Axion and his partners found a reasonably level patch of land to set up camp for the evening. The single nearby tree waved with the wind, as if the vibrant green deciduous was alive and attempting to shake itself free of the confining ground. The tent and small camp stove were assembled in quick succession, thereby allowing Axion a small amount of time to focus on each of his pokemon while dinner was cooking. He enjoyed this part of the day, it was far more relaxing than the constant drudgery of walking. He decided to start with Magnezone this evening. The newest member of the team, Magnezone was a very calm and quiet Pokemon. Axion checked that Magnezone’s three magnets were freely moving and devoid of loose magnetic particles or debris left by uncaring travelers, then spent a few moments with a brush, cleaning the dirt and dust from the robotic life form’s ovoid body. Freshly polished, Magnezone happily bobbed beside the fire. Next, Axion took a cleaning cloth to Scizor’s iron-like shell, removing the accumulated grime in the red pokemon’s crevices. Scizor was forced to kneel down at one point, its greater height now causing the cleaning process to be a challenge. The moment he finished, the evening's soup was rapidly bubbling, ready to be consumed. A warm bowl for Axion, some pokemon food pellets for Scizor, and a battery for Magnezone made for a pleasant dinner as the three ate in mutual silence.

When Axion broke camp the next morning, the cool morning air sent a shiver down his spine. The higher altitude meant that the weather was cooler than he had grown up in, close to the shore. His body was nearly devoid of fat, and he easily felt the minuscule damp breeze penetrating his sweater and draining his heat. Scizor and Magnezone were safely tucked away in their poke balls, oblivious to the chilly weather outside. Axion began trekking up the path in silent contemplation, and wondered why the area had been so quiet last night. Not a single pokemon had been seen by any of the three, or none that had caused enough attention to be concerned or even aware of. His thin fingers fished the pokedex from his pants pocket, allowing Axion to scan the data on Route 45. His gray eyes, always scanning for every bit of useful data, recorded a fair variety of pokemon that should have saturated the area. However, not a single Teddiursa had run by, chased by their larger bear-like parents; Diminutive elephantine roly-poly Phanpys were nowhere to be seen. It had been absolutely vacant, and such oddities were unnerving to Axion. He palmed one of his poke balls, exclaiming “Scizor, lets go!” The coruscating energy rapidly solidified into that of his clawed mantis pokemon. Without a further word they continued on, Axion slightly comforted by a familiar presence.

Axion and Scizor eventually began to see an increase in the density of trees trees on the slope. They varied in height, from saplings no taller than Axion's knee to some which could match a house in elevation. The two welcomed the change of scenery. Axion hoped that the increased coverage would stop the relentless sun from burning him to a crisp like yesterday. The red patches on his neck and arms gave evidence of yesterdays battle. Without provocation, an explosion ripped through the area to the left of the main road. Before either of them knew, the partners were rapidly proceeding in the exact same direction as the initial detonation. They instantly left the path without noticing, pushing through the underbrush unhindered and undeterred. Axion’s fingers became scratched from forcing the innumerable branches away. Finally, the site of the explosion appeared before them: Below an enormous tree lay a singular gray Pineco. The small crater around it smelled freshly made by the burning, and the pokemon itself appeared as if coated in dust, and having recently fainted. Pulling out his pokedex, Axion scanned the sentient pine cone. He perused the details, discovering their tendency to explode when dropped on the ground or attacked. “But why are they just randomly dropping now?” he uttered as he looked around, his body tense.

As he pondered the situation, he heard a large noise from behind him, traveling rapidly towards his exact position. “Scizor, prep for attack!” With superhuman speed, the bug pokemon placed itself between Axion and the unknown threat. Prepared for a vicious X-Scissor, the steel-type watched intently as a male human emerged from the underbrush. “Wait!” the rotund being yelled, “I’m not a pokemon!” Out of breath and leaning over, the large hiker looked like he hadn't put forth so much effort in a long time. “I heard the explosion, and thought someone might be in trouble. Are you two okay?” He looked pointedly at Axion and Scizor.

“Both of us are unharmed, but before you arrived I was trying to figure out why this Pineco appear to be spontaneously dropping and exploding.”

Finally catching his breath, the man propped himself upright. “So that is what was causing the explosion. I was just taking a nap over there when I was quite rudely awakened.” By Axion’s estimation, the mountain tourist likely did quite a fair amount of napping, as evidenced by the shape of the man. Continuing on, he stated “I’m Michael by the way.” He raised a thick, dirty hand toward Axion.

Axion shook the offered hand, Michael’s hand almost enveloping his in its size. “I’m Axion, and this is obviously Scizor. We were heading towards Blackthorn City when we heard it.” He spared a momentary look at the poor pokemon, small bits of bark remaining stuck to its worm-like form despite the explosion. “I would assume you have been around this mountain longer than we have, do you know anything about this?”

Michael shook his head. “Only rumors, and not very good ones at that. I might have heard a similar sound yesterday, but around here sounds are so deceiving. They bounce around the rocks and get distorted.” The man’s gravelly bass voice contrasted with Axion’s modulated alto.

Before the two could continue the conversation, a shadow fell over the ground and quickly flew into the enormous tree beside them. As they looked toward it, a large glint of silver flew out of the tree. “A Skarmory! ” Axion exclaimed, looking closer. A shape looking conspicuously like a Pineco was in its claws, valiantly struggling to escape. Trying to grab for Magnezone’s poke ball, the Skarmory veered West, quickly flying out of range. “Damn, too slow,” he muttered.

Michael walked up closer to the tree, rubbing his hands through the thick, bushy beard that dominated his entire face. After a moment of observation he looked up into its hidden branches. “Its no wonder Skarmory are attacking this tree, look up there.” Axion gazed in the direction of the hiker's outstretched finger, attempting to pierce the dark recesses, and was surprised to see a large number of Pineco hiding among the dense branches & sharp pine needles. He nodded in understanding. “The Skarmory must be trying to feed on these Pineco, but it occasionally drops one and they explode in shock. We must have rescued this one purely by being here. I feel sorry for them.” Pulling a revive crystal out of his pack, he walked over to the grounded Pineco, very carefully inching his way the last few feet. His voice was kept very calm and comforting as he attempted to touch the pine cone-enveloped pokemon. “I'm here to help you, don't be afraid.” Eventually he got close enough to touch the revive against the Pineco’s protective outer shell of bark. Instantly the yellow octahedron glowed brightly, then dissolved into Pineco as the bark-covered worm pokemon regained its energy. Taking a moment to realize it had been revived, it managed to balance itself on the lowest tip of protective shell. “Feeling better?” he asked as the smallish Pineco looked inquisitively at the soft featured being that had suddenly come to its aid. Peering then at the fuzzy human snorlax and Scizor close by, the pokemon cautiously rolled back towards the tree its companions inhabited. A thread, shot from the pokemon’s almost hidden mouth, allowed it to re-ascend and attach itself to the hiding place among the tree boughs.

Axion, now dusting off his knees, looked toward Michael. “If you’re willing to help, I'm think it would be good to try and scare off that Skarmory. The poor Pineco here won’t last much longer against it, I’m not a personal fan of pokemon like Skarmory preying on the defenseless. So I would appreciate any help you and your pokemon might be able to provide. And it never hurts to have a travelling companion, even if just for a short period of time.”

Michael gave a toothy smile, his beard’s contortions giving all the answer Axion really needed. “Seems like something worth doing, and worth doing well. I’m in with you for the long haul, however long it takes to scare off that crazy avian menace.” With that, the hiker struck a pose, looking ready to take on the world. With brown eyes sparkling in the sun, he tread forward confidently “ Onward, to the West! Let us take out the dark demon of the sky, and save bug-types everywhere!” With a small chuckle, Axion shook his head. Patting Scizor on the back momentarily, he looked in the direction Skarmory had last flown. Both of them were merely assuming Skarmory lived in that direction. However, neither of them had any better leads to go on, so it was at least a start for their quest. “ Onward to the West it is,” Axion replied.

-----


Skarmory returned to its nest, quite pleased at its latest acquisition. The bug had finally stopped its endless attempts to escape, which was fine for the steel-coated bird. Pushing through the thick rose bushes that blanketed the door to its home, it found itself in a small, dry cave; the brambles doubled both as a protective screen from the elements, and as a defensive barrier against opponents. The outer floor of the flier’s domicile was littered with bones and tree bark, remains of what had once been a large number of previous meals. The Pineco, which Skarmory now set down in the middle of the floor, had few options left to it at this point. It summoned up the last vestiges of energy that remained within itself. A blue glow surrounded it, as the power flowing into one point of its body instantly released in a single brilliant explosion.

When the dust and powdered debris finally settled to the freshly cracked floor of the cavern, the Skarmory looked at its now-fainted meal. Pineco had blasted the majority of its protective bark away, with the last few splinters making Skarmory’s dinner looking more like a cylindrical porcupine than the insect it was. The bird pokemon, its silvery razor sharp wings now coated in a heavy layer of dust, cautiously looked over its prey before picking off a few of the more dangerous looking wood fragments with its long thin beak. Its freshly unconscious dinner now laying open before it, Skarmory began replenishing the energy it would need for another bout with the resistant bark-covered bagworms.

-----


Axion rolled himself over the last of the waist-high ridges, pausing a moment to catch his breath. His legs burned from the exertions required to climb virtual mountains. It had taken three hours to traverse this ridge-covered area, but now Michael and Axion had a great view of the surrounding country. Below, the trees and rocky valleys spread in narrow paths, enclosed by the high mountain range. They almost appeared to be the veins of the earth, all life flowing through these channels among the protective shell of mountainous skin. It truly gave Axion a realistic perspective of how insignificant one person could be in the grand scheme of things. But in contrast, how one singular event,something as simple as a spark would destroy everything in no time at all. Michael, now appearing beside Axion, rolled his bulk onto the ground, heaved and swallowed some large breaths before speaking. “It looks like the rest of the area is fairly level, with only an occasional mountain peak rising up. If Skarmory roosts somewhere around here, we should be able to find it, or see it the second it leaves its nest.”

Axion nodded, and pointed towards the ominous black clouds gathering in the East. “The sooner we find it the better. I’d rather not be on top of this ridge when that storm gets here.” Almost on cue, distant lightning sparked from the black curtain crawling ever slowly in their direction. He quickly looked towards one of the distant peaks, before pulling out the pokedex for more information on their elusive prey. The mechanical feminine voice instantly came back with detailed information. “Skarmory, the Armor Bird Pokémon. Skarmory's body is covered with a steel-like armor, and can fly at speeds of over 100 mph. Because Skarmory nests in briers and is constantly scratched by thorns, its wings become razor sharp. It slashes foes with its wings that possess sword-like cutting edges.” As the entry was finishing, Axion was already pulling Scizor and Magnezone out from their poke ball confinement. “Okay, we are looking for bramble bushes" he said. " The larger the better, our target Skarmory will likely be there. So if you find it, make sure to send up a signal, or return here as quickly as possible.” In unison, the pair disappeared down two game trails, rapidly fading into the distance. Michael was doing the same with his pokemon, the entirety of the Geodude evolutionary line. Geodude floated there, listening intently, while Graveler’s four arms twitched with anticipation. Golem stood by, looking quite indifferent, yet nodding at his trainer’s orders, nearly identical to the ones Axion had given his pokemon. “We need to find it fast. Climb up some of the smaller peaks, see if you cannot get a better view. Scizor and Magnezone already have the lower areas covered, so take advantage of your climbing prowess. Go!” The pokemon rolled, ran, and floated off towards different peaks nearby. Michael then turned to Axion. “I figure we’ll stay here, get a better vantage point in case we see it first." Axion merely nodded before finding a comfy location in which to observe the awe-inspiring view that was spread before him. Michael, not finding a nearby rock large enough to accommodate his bulky frame, grabbed a log felled by some camper long ago. His muscles bulged beneath flannel clothing as the log finally came to rest in a more convenient position. Axion was surprised at the strength, given the previous lack of fitness.

After the first hour had snaked its way into nothingness, Axion was starting to become concerned. Nobody had come back yet, and neither Michael nor himself had managed to locate any brambles within visible range. The storm was also getting closer, a literal metaphor for danger on the horizon. Just as Axion had begun pacing impatiently, his short legs having finally stopped hurting, Magnezone appeared over a rise, magnets spinning excitedly. Axion rushed to him. "Were you able to find Skarmory's nest Magnezone?" The robotic pokemon eagerly nodded an affirmative while Michael joined them. "Alright then, lets send out a signal to recall everyone else." As he finished the sentence, Magnezone began generating electricity by rotating its magnets in sync. Lightning immediately split a spot not three feet from the assembled trio, bringing the smell of ozone and heat. Axion and Michael had both jumped due to the proximity of the bolt. Minutes later, all the pokemon had returned; Scizor glided up on a convenient air current, and the rock types rolled in from their respective search areas. Axion and Michael both recalled their pokemon, save Magnezone, then Axion ordered the magnet to "take us where you found the nest."

-----


Looking up, Axion shielded his light eyes from the sun and gave Skarmory credit on the ideal roosting location. The mountain's vertical rock face stood directly in front of them, an impenetrable wall. Thirty feet up, a small ledge jutted out, overgrown with massive rose bushes. If one looked close enough, scratches could be seen along the very edge, as if a pokemon often gripped the rock precipice before launching itself in flight. In addition, certain flower-covered vines were organized to create the smallest of openings for entry and egress. If they had not specifically sought such details out, it could have easily been overlooked as one of natures random oddities; here it made the nest blatantly obvious.

Him and his travelling companion studied the situation in silence for a minute or two. Finally, Michael offered up his thoughts in a near whisper. "What if we just used magnitude, creating a rock slide and collapsing the cave entrance? It could potentially prevent that pesky pigeon from plucking further Pineco from the pines." The hiker seemed awfully pleased of his alliterated plan, smiling with coffee-stained teeth exposed as he finished his sentence.

Axion offered a strong negative facial reaction in response, his thin pursed lips cracking from the dry air. "Closing off the entrance right now would be akin to murder; as much as I don't like Skarmory feeding off defenseless Pineco, I prefer that to outright killing it. I was trying to come with something a tad more elegant. Maybe scaring it away would be enough."

Michael's smile had disappeared. Apparently, the full ramifications of his plan had not fully materialized until now. "I see what you mean. But how do we scare something like that away? I have not seen too many predators around here lately that would be considered a major threat to a Skarmory."

"If either of us had something a bit larger, it would be easy" Axion noted. "However, we don't necessarily need to own a predator if we can make one..."

After much foraging and digging around in their backpacks, the two had somehow managed to gather enough supplies for completion of Axion’s crazy plan. Before them stood a terrible, yet vaguely Ursaring-shaped pokemon. "Sci!” Scizor mewled uncomfortably beneath the rope and sticks. “I know its not exactly mobile or plush Scizor, but its just for a few minutes” Axion told him. He looked at the makeshift bear pokemon and stifled the laugh at their Frankenstein creation. For the final touch, he put his pokedex into Scizor’s one claw. “Once you are up there, just squeeze. The pokedex should play a fierce Ursaring roar. If that doesn't scare Skarmory off the mountain, we will be forced back to square one.” As Axion stepped back, Golem stepped forward towards Scizor. Michael was standing next to him. “ Alright Golem, lets get this show on the road. Aim right for the cave entrance, get Scizor as close as possible. He doesn't seem to have much mobility in that.” As if in response to Michael’s comment, Scizor gave about two inches of shuffling, proving the point valid. The living boulder cautiously picked up the nervous Scizurang and carefully took aim. In a flash, the massive arms launched the false predator towards the hidden nest. For a moment, the entire living contraption seemed doomed to failure, the launch making the entire charade shake violently around its living center. Awkwardly landing among the roses, Scizor regained its balance and found solid ground to stand on. Initiating the plan, Scizor carefully squeezed his claw, activating the pokedex’s Ursaring recording. A vicious roar echoed through the valley, and more importantly into the cavern.

-----


Skarmory was napping, full and content after its recent Pineco feast. The cave was spotlessly clean again, its lone inhabitant having been forced to carefully push all the remains back to the front of the cavern after its meal’s extremely rude explosion earlier. It had taken a fair amount of time polishing its pristine steel feathers, feeling a great sense of pride once they were reflecting the small cave it called home. Nestled within the small bed it had made from brambles and rose petals, it was having dreams of its next great hunt. As it swooped in for the final grab, its razor sharp wings prepped for the strike, a rather loud roar reverberated through the cavern and ripped Skarmory from the climax of its wonderful dream. It took a moment to fully awaken before Skarmory understood what the sound was, and its mind instantly switched into attack mode. Needle talons extended, wings spread, and teeth gnashed. It was ready to defend its home to the death. The silhouette of an Ursaring shone through the bushes, creating a fearsome picture for most. For Skarmory, its comfortable nest was all it currently cared about. The metallic avian’s beak glowed a bright white, and Skarmory charged directly forwards, towards its foe and a potential death in defense of its home.

-----


As Scizor was thrown towards the small ledge, Axion alternated his attention between the ongoing events above and the weather slowly creeping up behind them. His ponytail was being blown about by the increasing winds,the rest of his hair in check only due to his hat, and the air was becoming more moist, bringing with it the smell of potential rain. At least the cool air felt good against his sun damaged skin. Before he had time to return his attention to the pokedex’s imitation roar, he saw Scizor’s disguise literally disintegrate around the bug pokemon; less than seconds later, the pokemon was uncontrollably falling to the earth below. Skarmory had not even shown itself, and already their plan had failed. Axion rushed to the now grounded pokemon, hastily pulling aside the fragmented remains of their Ursaring costume and freeing Scizor for a more thorough examination. Nothing appeared overly damaged, however the central torso area had been hit fairly hard by what Axion assumed was a drill peck from Skarmory. He pulled out a super potion and sprayed it on the wound, Scizor’s face curled into one of stinging pain as he did. “You’ll be fine buddy, you tried your hardest.” Pulling something from behind his back, the light from Scizor’s poke ball recalled it to a secure safe location, and removed it from further harm.

Axion sighed, twirling his ponytail as he did in times of stress. Leaning over, he picked up what used to be his pokedex from where Scizor’s claw had been moments before. The pieces that were still intact hung together by only a single blue wire. Obviously, the sudden attack had made Scizor flinch, and thus shattered the hardy information device. Much of the plastic housing had been cracked off, and circuits were bent or missing, likely thrown in the airborne moments of the fall. He would have to travel to New Bark town in the near future and get a replacement from Professor Elm. But for the moment, he would have to do without. He pocketed the computer’s remains, then looked towards the burly hiker nearby. “So that idea didn't quite go as planned, and we are one pokemon short. Did you have any other ideas?”

Appearing as if in deep thought, Michael's head surveyed the area. As he focused on a nearby tree, Axion looked in the same direction. The tree’s bark, after a moment or two, took on a strange shape in Axion’s vision, slowly clarifying itself. Axion rubbed his chin as the idea finally took shape, feeling a beard beginning to come in. His hygiene habits while traveling sometimes left much to be desired. He began laughing at himself for not seeing the ingenuity of the idea sooner. Michael, appearing confused now, inquired “What's all the laughing for?”

“Oh nothing,: Axion replied. “its just that, if we can’t scare it out, we just lure it out with its favorite meal. Or at least, something resembling its favorite meal. Just follow me, and you’ll see in a few minutes.” Without further explanation, he began pulling pieces of bark from the tree’s hardy trunk. The longer fingernails he had grown during the trip helped to peel away the thin strips. Still not understanding what was going on, his partner began replicating the actions. After a knee high pile had developed between the two Axion and Michael ceased their collecting, the hiker scratching his short black hair with a perplexed look all the while. Axion began sorting the bark bits, explaining as he did so. “We couldn't scare the Skarmory off, and now we know that it is too strong for us to succeed in that department. But if we can lure it out of its protective cave, maybe then you can collapse the cave itself while I distract it and keep it out of your way.” The now sorted piles sat in front of Axion, both looking like terribly made decorative Christmas trees. Two pieces of salvaged rope were threaded through holes punched in the bark scraps. When the project was complete, both Axion and Michael held up Pineco lookalikes. At close inspection the forgery was obvious, but Axion’s intention was to lure, not completely fool the bird. The two makeshift Pineco were hung in the nearby pine tree, and Axion hid behind it. He palmed Magnezone’s poke ball, readying for the attack. Michael, with Golem quietly next to him, lay against the cliff face below Skarmory’s cave. With a nod to the two hiding underneath, Axion gave a faint imitation “Pineco,” hoping that it would carry to the cave as the light began dimming, and the wind increased slightly in intensity through the area.

-----


Skarmory’s rest was again broken, but this time it was different. The rude awakening of before was replaced with something far more faint, almost a whisper from outside. Its miniscule ears strained to fully hear, and it strode closer to the entrance, receiving a far better dose of sound. From the more convenient vantage point, Skarmory heard something quite pleasing, and the noise was akin to “Pineco.” Pinpointing the voice’s direction, Skarmory carefully leaped through the protective vines, aiming itself for a quick snack after lunch. Swooping down, its clear approach to the target was interrupted by the sound of falling rocks, which came from behind. In mid flight, Skarmory changed its angle of attack to instead shoot straight up, rotating in a spiral until it had a clear view of the disturbance. High above the ground, it hovered and helplessly watched as rocks fell from the high peak, trampling the rose bushes that acted as its front door, and the larger boulders tore the small ledge clean from the cliff face. All hopes of a quiet comfy meal had quickly vanished; the happy pleasure turned to seething rage at the destruction of its home. Eyes glowed from yellow to red as the emotions churned inside, becoming visible as Skarmory’s small spiky teeth emerged from its beak.

-----


Axion saw the rustle in the bushes, and waited in anticipation of Skarmory launching straight for the fake pokemon and his position. His expectations were rewarded when the armored bird did exactly as the plan had required. Watching it intently dive toward his position, Axion switched his attention as Golem immediately began pounding its stony hands into the mountainside. As if perfectly timed, the boulders fell upon the area, completely destroying the Skarmory’s nest beyond a doubt. Skarmory changed its flight path to watch, and Axion threw Magnezones poke ball, yelling “Magnezone’ lets go! Send a thundershock towards Skarmory!” The coalescing energy reconstituted the magnet pokemon directly below Skarmory, once completed its body quickly released an electrical bolt, aimed towards the offending avian. A steep dive timed perfectly allowed Skarmory to dodge, as well as offer its own counter: a devastating air slash, which made a direct hit on Magnezone. Both trainer and pokemon were forced back as the wave of air pushed against them with tremendous power.

Before either could fully recover, Skarmory was on top of Magnezone, offering a full-force fury attack to take advantage of the momentary distraction. Its sharp beak created multiple dents in the magnet pokemon’s armor. “Magnezone, use spark to get it off you!” The ball of energy quickly appeared, and Skarmory retreated, creating a difficult moving target that easily dodged the wayward spark attack. In retaliation, a piercing screech echoed along the ridge, Skarmory’s metal sound deafening all assembled. The sound slowly died off, but a peal of lightning and thunder lit up the now fully darkened sky around Skarmory, causing Axion’s already deaf ears to merely reverberate silently. Skarmory, now outmatched purely by the weather, dove down the cliff. Axion and Michael were close behind, almost rolling down the hill in their pursuit of shelter or Skarmory, whichever conveniently came first.

As Axion saw Skarmory come to a halt above them, he noticed where they had arrived. The gigantic conifer stood before them, the home of Skarmory’s favorite immobile prey. The storm was now creating deafening wind, spraying small dust and debris not anchored to the ground in the faces of the two humans. Fighting the miniature stings, Axion turned towards Skarmory and ordered Magnezone “Lock-On, followed by Zap cannon! Don’t let it get away this time!” Magnezone’s body rotated in miniature increments, its 3 eyes triangulating the flying pokemon. When it came to bear, a great outburst of solid electricity bolted at Skarmory. Despite the bird’s valiant attempts to avoid the onslaught of energy, the full force of the connecting blow sent it farther up into the air. Finally out of energy, Magnezone ended the attack. It was floating far closer to the ground than before. Skarmory had somehow managed to stay aloft, though the pain on its face was enough to give Axion confidence.

The rain chose this moment to begin its travel down to the earth, the already violent wind now becoming a torrential outburst of water, almost a curtain that limited vision to a matter of feet. Axion lost sight of Michael, but had other matters to worry about. Skarmory was visible only when lightning struck the mountainside, the flashes illuminating all but the black outline that was their razor-like flying opponent. In the downpour, Axion was unable to see even his Magnezone, only six feet away. Trying to yell out an attack to it in his cracking voice, a concussion wave blew him under the tree, and Magnezone was thrown beside him, knocked out. In horror, Axion realized what Skarmory had done. In its quest for what he could only assume had become open and total revenge on its enemies, Skarmory had plucked a Pineco from the tree and dropped it, creating an impromptu bomb. And from the looks of things, it had been super effective on poor Magnezone. Loudly swearing despite the storm drowning out his words, Axion recalled Magnezone to its poke ball.

With a worried look on his face, Axion palmed Scizor’s poke ball. Despite his inhibitions about doing this, he hoped his best friend would understand the necessity of such actions. Pressing the activation button on the ball, he called out Scizor. “Magnezone couldn’t quite finish him off, its up to you now!” He was virtually forcing his head against the insect, aquiline nose distorting in its proximity to the red shell, in an attempt to get enough sound across to Scizor. A muffled noise and a nod allowed him some sense of accomplishment for that minor feat. “Use iron defense then, and watch out for falling Pineco!” With mild bewilderment at that statement, Scizor raised his defenses, then confidently strode out from beneath the protective canopy of the tree. Its armored carapace was already slick from the rain, and shone spectacularly when the lightning appeared. Axion had given the pokemon free reign this time; none of his attacks would have been heard among the cacophony of raging water and wind surrounding them anyway. He saw Scizor begin one his more complex moves. Two pairs of twin insect wings sprouted from its back, and Scizor began beating them violently. The pokemon’s clawed feet attempted to find solid purchase on the muddy ground as its body was buffeted by wind coming from all directions. The wings slowly picked up speed, battling the elements every step of the way. As the oscillations ramped up to their peak, Skarmory appeared like a deadly phantom directly above. Scizor released the localized wind storm at that instant, the deadly blades of air blasting the winged sentient weapon out of its dive and forcing a retreat. However, the crosswinds in the air had apparently weakened the power, meaning Skarmory had taken little damage, and was still able to fly and fight.

This time, Scizor readied something else. Its head darted around, watching for its opponent to come near. However, Scizor failed to notice the low flying shadow coming from behind it. In a flash, needle-sharp claws honed to perfection gripped the pokemon’s shoulders, and Scizor was instantly lifted into the air. Its concentration and thus attack wasted, Scizor desperately swung at Skarmory, attempting nothing more than to get free of the avian’s vice-like grip. One lucky attack hit the left leg, and Skarmory recoiled it in surprise and pain, as a red pincer rapidly came up to grasp the remaining near-black leg. Scizor began swinging itself about while gripping the single leg left available to it, arbitrarily shifting its weight about in an attempt to ground the flier. Instead, Skarmory was allowed a prime shot at Scizor. It radically changed its flight path, silver and red wings yawing, and Scizor found itself approaching a tree trunk far too rapidly to adequately react. The top of the coniferous pine connected with an imperceptible thunk, and Scizor fell to the ground, the final blow only softened due to the smaller impacts from the tree’s branches.

The bug pokemon stumbled as it regained its footing, slipping on the moist ground and tired from its injuries. Bravely, it stood tall and proud midst the torrential downpour beating upon it, defying the winds buffeting in every direction, and ignoring the almost constant peal of deafening thunder and lightning around it. “Scizor Scizor!” he repeatedly screamed at the storm and Skarmory, as if to declare that it would not give up despite the odds.

Axion watched in awe at Scizor’s defiance. He was proud of his pokemon, and wished he could be of more help. However, the metallic bug pokemon could gain no assistance from its master currently. Its attention was focused purely on the angry Skarmory circling it. As Scizor prepared another move, the wind changed direction, giving Skarmory the edge it wanted. The tailwind empowered sped Skarmory through the pouring rain, an arrow aimed with Scizor as the bulls-eye. Scizor leaped aside at the last second, narrowly avoiding the inevitable knockout the move would have caused. Skarmory gave a piercing screech, and returned to its former altitude. Scizor picked itself out of the mud, the slime coating the right half of its crimson carapace. Before it could collect itself for an attack, Skarmory was upon him, Slashing away with knife sharp claws in an attempt to down Scizor for good. Scizor battled brilliantly, countering with slashes of its own from its pincers.

The fighters broke apart and stood staring at each other, sizing the opponent up for the killing blow. Both predators seemed equally dangerous. Scizor’s claws gleamed, ready to crush Skarmory, while its wings were out, prepared to slice Scizor to ribbons. Skarmory attacked low as Scizor aimed high. While the claw went wide, the wings hit solidly on a leg, and Scizor fell on its back in pain from the cuts Skarmory’s razor wings had left.Skarmory regally stood tall despite the howling wind and looked down at the defeated pokemon. The rain, wind and lightning painting a picture of doom as Scizor looked helplessly at its opponent. For an instant everything stopped, the universe freezing in that eternal moment; then time returned, and Skarmory’s Night slash brought darkness to both what little light shone through the dense rain clouds and Scizor’s chances of winning. Axion felt pain as he watched through the liquid curtain falling from the sky as Scizor’s eyes closed, Skarmory’s blow having knocked it out and thus ending the battle. Axion quickly recalled Scizor, unintentionally revealing his position to the enraged Skarmory.

Skarmory then turned its head in the direction of its last known enemy, Axion. The bird’s clawed feet dug deep trenches in the soaked mud as it took large confident strides purposefully towards the pale trainer. Its red eyes had anger, hatred, and other violent emotions mirrored in them, glowing brightly with the power of its fury. No compassion for the human existed in the rage shown on its face, beak in what could only amount to a bird’s hateful snarl. It finally appeared under the pine tree, shaking itself free of the water droplets splayed across its body. Axion’s back was to the tree, and Skarmory appeared content to have him trapped there. It made no aggressive action at first, merely stared into the eyes of the last nest destroyer. As suddenly as it had stood there, it now began to aim pecks at Axion. the first few missed, getting ever closer. Axion found it hard to dodge, his drenched clothes a hindrance weighing him down despite his reflexes. The wet hair in his face also made sight difficult. Skarmory was teasing him, playing a game before the death blow could be struck. As the final, powerful peck launched towards his face, Axion closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

When the attack never came, Axion stared in awe in front of him. He was quite surprised to find a Pineco in front of him, using protect. The pine cone pokemon looked as though it had recently lost much of its grayish-blue bark covering, not having ample time to repair itself before the storm. Axion realized that this was the same Pineco he had saved earlier, it seemed to now be repaying the favor. As Skarmory angrily slashed and bit at the barrier, Pineco gave Axion a small nod as it released. Pineco’s rage had transferred from trainer to pokemon as a devastating air slash from the crimson wings now blasted Pineco against Axion. The shattered bark remnants still desperately sticking to the pokemon's skin poked multiple tiny holes in his jacket, but it was of little concern to him currently. While appearing severely damaged again, the Pineco gave a small shake before placing itself back in front of the weakened trainer, and began glowing. Its injured body launched at Skarmory as it offered payback, a full strength attack directly at the offending bird. As its legs struggled in the mud, it stumbled backward from the unexpected onslaught, and Axion did the only thing he could think of. He pulled the first ball his fingers found from his backpack, throwing it with violent force at Skarmory. The fast ball snapped against the hollow reflective armored feathers, and Skarmory was sucked into the small sphere. The ball jumbled along the muddy ground, the pokemon making a valiant attempt to release itself. Finally, the violent shaking motions stopped, and Axion sat dumbstruck as he realized that he had apparently captured a powerful pokemon.

-----


Eventually the rain died down, and Axion saw a small tent in the distance. Michael was emerging from it, shaking off the last remnants of water, boots and hat removed to now be hung in a tree to dry. the mountainous slopes had undergone a drastic mutation, the rain washing out shallow rivers as it slowly meandered to the bottom. Axion had not moved since his capture, the ball sitting where it had landed, caked with mud and nearly imperceptible. Finally getting up and stretching, he walked over and picked it up, wiping away the majority of the grime before attaching it to his belt. Michael walked over, saying nothing about the poke ball. “Has Skarmory been dealt with, then?”

Axion shook his head in an affirmative, dried mud on his face cracking and falling off from the soft cheeks. “It won't be bothering these Pineco anymore.” Turning away for a moment, he knelt down next to the worm pokemon that had saved his life. “I cannot thank you enough for what you did Pineco, so is there anything I can do for you to return the favor?” Without warning, Pineco jumped against Axion, falling comfortably into its arms. The weight of Pineco surprised Axion. “I think he likes you Axion” Michael suggested. “Maybe he wants to go with you.”

“Would you like that Pineco? Travel around with me, see the world, and become friends?” The pokemon eagerly hopped up and down, its leftover bark wiggling strangely. Before something sudden and explosive happened, Axion put the Pineco down and grabbed another poke ball. “poke ball, go!” The Pineco leaped into the path of the green and yellow nest ball, and the energy sucked it into itself. ]]> Stories Axion http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/early-bird-gets-bagworm-regrade-needed-151207/ <![CDATA[Crucible [WaR]]]> http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/crucible-%5Bwar%5D-151175/ Tue, 21 May 2013 07:20:28 GMT Write-a-Roll Requirements

Genre: Other
Time Period/Setting: Crossover
Characters: Pokémon and Humans - Together but Separate

[A/N: To fulfill these requirements, I formatted the story as journal entries or field notes (which would fall under the "Other" genre, I hope xD ) based on the crossover that I used. This crossover was Pokémon and The Left Hand of Darkness, an excellent book by Ursula K. Le Guin that, unfortunately, falls very squarely into the "Sci-Fi" genre. Hopefully, the genre that I used to write the story overcomes the innate genre of the world that I used. In terms of the third requirement...well, I'll let you read the story and find out for yourself. ;) Also, if you've never read The Left Hand of Darkness, don't worry - I covered all of the basic things you need to know about the universe in the story itself. The only thing you might be missing is the Gethenian Calendar, and I couldn't find a good source for it online. Basically, all you need to know is that each entry starts with the date and then the month being listed, and Getheny is the first day of any given month. You should be able to figure it out from there, blah blah blah, long Author's Note is long. LET'S MOVE ON!]

Pokémon: Aggron (Demanding)
Characters: 88,209
Caution: Here, there be Eskimos mature sexual themes concerning human-like extraterrestrials and a few instances of language. I wish I was making that up. xD READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Crucible

A Bulbagarden Forums URPG Story for the Write-a-Roll Competition, by Neighborhood-Guest

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ANSIBLE QUANTUM COMMUNICATION KEYBOARDS, INT-SOL-CO.
FUNCTION: MESSAGE PLAYBACK
TITLE: “Field Notes on the Biology of Drumner and Dremegole over a Three-Month Study”
TYPIST: “Bjorn Tseveidehaan, Envoy”
LOCATION: STAR 69UKLG, ORBITAL 4; “Gethen, coll. Winter”
PURPOSE: “Report of discovery of species elsewhere present in the Ekumen Galactic System on Gethen; Study of habitat, growth, and processes for comparison to other organisms in the System”

>> BEGIN PLAYBACK

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Getheny Tuwa.

On Winter, cold is a constant. When I first arrived on this planet with the other Envoys, I supposed that statement went without saying, but only through direct involvement in the lives of the people here have I learned how true it is.

The Gethenians have dealt with the cold forever, and their activities, their movements…everything that they do, that they are, is suppressed (or perhaps embraced?) by the cold. It halts their sense of curiosity and exploration, their knack for invention, and perhaps most importantly, their scientific progress, which has been the uniting factor for all of the planetary nations of the Ekumen Galactic System since we began discovering other inhabited worlds. We came to this planet hoping to extend the hand of interstellar communication to them, and yet, they have only just begun to very anxiously return the hand. They have spent thousands of years of inhabitance creating myths and fiefdoms and blindly following them without question, or producing laws of commerce and economy and lining their pockets with the pillars of materialism, rather than attempting to understand the world around them.

Back on Terra, in the northern latitudes where I was born, the cold was also a constant; however, we were quick to ask why it was, and we learned the reason through scientific explanations. The Gethenians do not ask why, and they suffer for it.

But I suppose I speak bitterly of them, and I don’t mean to; before the curiosity of the Ekumen led us to seek each other out throughout our galaxy, we were as traditional as the Gethenians. And besides, we have planted the seed of our Renaissance at their feet now, and they are learning to cultivate it alongside us. The original Envoy, Genly Ai, said that they were quick to learn, and he was not wrong.

In the five years that we have been on this planet, we have established a settlement in the northern regions, close to the Gobrin Icecaps, where work is dedicated to the study of the topography, geography, and biology of Winter. Of course, that is but one of many victories, but I am a biologist by trade, so the social sciences and the Yomesh religious system that we have studied in the southern regions of Karhide and Orgoreyn, while important, are none of my concern. I leave that to the expert Envoys that practice in those cultural centers, and continue with my own work here.

I have seen a glimmer of the possibility of the Gethenian work ethic first-hand here at the Gobrin base, with the volunteers that have come to the base from both of the southern regions to aid us in our work. From what I’m told by Lang Heo Hew, the Envoy psychologist assigned to us, this is a rare occurrence, as the two nations have never gotten along due to cultural boundaries and disputes, but their differences don’t seem to show in the face of the scientific common ground. In any case, without their expertise, we would never have been able to prepare for the excursion that we are setting out on later today.

You see, we have spread out across the northern regions in an attempt to find evidence of life that is similar to life in other parts of the Ekumen since the base was established nearly three years ago. We have found very little thus far in terms of similarity; most of the animals that we have found are completely indigenous to Winter, and while that is a discovery worthy of notation, there are so few evolutionary branches due to the encroaching conditions of the planet that there is very little variation among the species that we have found. Thus far, only ten distinct species have been noted and studied in rather exhaustive detail, and we have little confidence in finding much else.

Our progress has been constantly halted by the sheer extent to which the Gobrin overtakes the landscape of this region of Winter. As our topographer Tulier has noted to us from the pictures he has taken from our craft in orbit, there isn’t a particular line of latitude or longitude upon which the Ice stops unless one ventures a couple hundred miles south of our base. However, in what little we have chipped away from it, we have found preserved samples of carbon-based life from an age long ago, possibly before the beginning of the Ice Age that this planet is currently gripped by. When compared with samples from Terra and several other planets of the Ekumen, we have found exact DNA matches in nearly every experiment. Such an exact level of similarity cannot be a coincidence.

The Gethenians that I have worked with have come up with a couple of theories as to why these species (now extinct on this planet) have so magically appeared for us inside the icecaps. For one, it could be that these are the remnants of the planet from before the Ice Age, as I’ve said. But we have also found samples of species that are particularly resistant or comfortable in even the coldest of conditions. These samples were taken from close to the surface of the Gobrin, suggesting the possibility that the species may not actually be extinct, or only recently so. Could there be small groups of these Pokémon still living in habitable pockets of the icecaps? We found only one way to test this theory: to go up there ourselves and find out.

Now, Genly Ai ventured across the Gobrin with one of the Gethenians at one point in his seven-year test cycle before we were called to the planet, though it wasn’t by choice. From what we understand, he was detained at a concentration camp by the upper-level bureaucrats of Orgoreyn during his time with them. The plotting bastards are all but gone now in that region, driven out by the bourgeois workers that they tried so hard to anaesthetize, but it doesn’t change the fact that Genly had to escape across the Ice with his Gethenian friend to find safety in Karhide. They traveled six hundred miles together, on foot, across the Ice, to avoid the patrols that Orgoreyn had sniffing up and down the roads looking for them and other escaped prisoners. After all, these camps were not known to the public, and they didn’t want anyone ruining their standing with the people by calling them out for using them. He managed to make it back to Karhide in the end, though the Gethenian sacrificed himself in the last throes of their journey to ensure his safety.

Despite the tragedy of Genly’s situation, we can learn two important things from his exploits. For one, we now know a likely location for living groups of these uncovered species: the Drumner and Dremegole volcanoes. While they are dormant and capped off by solid sheets of ice and snow, it is likely that there is still activity within the deepest reaches of the mountain, if they share any similarity to volcanoes on Terra. This means that, at some point under the surface, the ice melts into water and is distributed among the rocks inside the basin, which are rich in minerals needed to form the complex carbon chains of multicellular life. For another, we now know that travel onto and across the Gobrin by foot would be impossible, given that the trip has only a slim chance for success when one is carrying the bare minimum needed to sustain him or herself, as Genly did. Add to it the equipment that we would need to haul onto the Ice to perform experiments on any evidence of life we find at Drumner and Dremegole, and we could never hope to overcome the ratio of people we would need to take with us and the rations to keep them alive. We would likely die out there on the Ice, as Genly almost did, or be forced to turn back after an insufficient amount of time studying the landscape.

So we knew the destination of our study almost immediately, but the second question still remained: how would we get there? The traditional method of travel along the roads south of us was via the Gethenian plow; it is a powerful machine quite similar to a bulldozer back on Terra. It is slow-moving, topping out at only about twenty-five miles per hour in the best of conditions, but its treads ensure that the machine stays upright and stable throughout its trip, even on the instability of the Gobrin’s lower-altitude ice sheets. Even this machine, though, is limited in its mobility in the coldest regions of Winter. It is steam-powered, and liquid water is scarce here; additionally, due to the very nature of the Ice and its lack of uniform spreading, straight and even pathways are difficult to find, meaning that our maneuverability will be hindered throughout the journey.

As I have said before, though, the Gethenians have a knack for invention. The Ice could be melted and used as a constant fuel source if we had a means of breaking it down quickly and collecting it. In doing so, we could also bore through large sections of the Ice that would otherwise be inaccessible to us, or would take a long time to travel around, to refuel and establish a travel route. It was thus that they set out to integrate their superior heating technology (also steam-powered) into the plow-heads that were fitted onto the front of the machines that we had on the base. After much work, they succeeded in their efforts; we tested the machines directly on the might of the Ice just to the north of our base and plowed a slope clear from the plateau to allow us to get up on the surface without traveling many unnecessary miles to the lowest borders of the region and slowly climbing up. These heater-plows (as they’ve dubbed them) would smash into the ice wall and flash-melt them on the spot, sucking up the water left behind directly into the steam engines and replenishing themselves. It is a brilliant invention, and I think that it will become quite important for the advancement of both science and technology as the Gethenians become more accustomed to them.

Now, the only concerns for our journey are collapses from the ice-walls and the deep trenches that dot the landscape of the Gobrin. The Gethenians on the base are incredibly capable behind the wheel of a plow, so a collapse is not likely so long as we are all of sound judgment, and we have Tulier’s maps available to us to accurately map out the locations of the trenches along the way. We have plotted a route over the past few days, and, if all goes according to plan, we should reach Drumner and Dremegole in three weeks’ time. We have enough supplies for Lang, myself, and four of the Gethenians working here on the base to be sustained for five months, and we shall travel on three heater-plows in single-file from here all the way to the base of the mountains before setting up camp. Lang and I will travel in separate heater-plows in the copilot seats, with Gethero and Maxa, two of the three volunteers from Orgoreyn that we’re taking along, doing the driving. The third heater-plow will have Ensus, our third volunteer from Orgoreyn, riding with Nirm, one of the few Karhide volunteers on the base.

We begin our journey in a few hours, in the hopes that travel will be easier in the spring and summer seasons thanks to slightly warmer temperatures. I am feeling optimistic about our chances, but also retaining skepticism of the possibility of full-fledged groups of Pokémon living out in the middle of the worst conditions this planet has to offer. I shall type again once we have reached our destination.

---

Streth Osme.

We have arrived. Drumner stands, imposing to the point of intimidation, about three miles northeast of our camp. The journey took us one month and five days, as we were forced to travel for shorter distances at the end of Tuwa due to the lunar cycle adversely affecting the weather.

We have set up our tents in such a way that our heater-plows block most of the chilling winds that sweep across the Ice and up the mountainside. The tents that the Gethenians have brought with them are incredibly durable and resistant to the elements, but our bodies, even in all of this thermal clothing, are not, so we need to keep ourselves protected from frostbite when we aren’t sheltered inside. We have a large, collective tent set up closest to the mountains, and all of our equipment is unpacked and ready for us inside. It is from this tent that we will conduct the vast majority of our experiments on the samples that we collect, with any others occurring while we’re out doing fieldwork on the slopes and possibly in the caverns of the volcanoes. Three smaller tents are set up closest to the heater-plows, each housing two of the six individuals in our group. The four Gethenians have two tents to themselves, and Lang and I will sleep in the third.

Now that we have everything set up, it’s only a matter of setting out for the mountains and seeing what we can find. Tulier sent us several photographs just before we left the Gobrin base that show the zoomed-in details of the mountainsides, and possible locations of openings in the cliffs for us to look around in. We will begin exploring our immediate area tomorrow before moving towards these locations in the coming days.

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Harhahad Osme.

Three days since my last typing. We found virtually no evidence of any life or activity in the immediate area of our camp, so we moved to the base of Drumner and have been looking around there for the past couple of days. It is a rather strange feeling, being on those slopes; after so many days of seeing nothing but endless ice and snow, it is nice to sink my feet into solid ground again. The pebbles and mud offer much better traction; we can take our snowshoes off for the first time since we set out. As dull and brown as the landscape is, I’m inclined to believe that it boosts the group’s morale.

We were thinking that we would need to pack our climbing equipment for the trip tomorrow, since we didn’t find any signs of activity for most of the past two days. However, just before we were ready to head back to base camp today, Nirm spotted small indents in the clay just below the cliff face. Thinking them to be tracks, we followed them across the slopes and found a small alcove about a quarter mile from where we started. Inside was an opening into the mountains, about six feet tall and four feet across. We would easily be able to fit into this opening, but we were ill-equipped in terms of lighting. We got only a few steps into the cave before the darkness and the sounds of the mountain moving beneath us forced us to turn back. We marked our return route and the location of the tracks on our maps once we returned to base camp.

These are good signs; not only have we found a decently-sized opening to explore, we have also confirmed, due to the mountain’s movement within the cave, that there is still some amount of volcanic activity below the surface. I am hopeful that our fortune will continue to improve, because if it does, we will be sure to make a remarkable discovery soon enough.

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Tormenbod Osme.

A vicious blizzard left us snowed in and unable to return to the cave opening for three days. It is odd to think of the season as being summer up here on the Ice, considering the weather; however, I suppose the conditions in the extreme northern regions of Terra are similar, if a little warmer and less windy.

We returned to the alcove today to further explore the inner workings of Drumner. As we moved about the tunnel, we found very few branching paths, all dead-ends that extended only a short distance off the main thoroughfare. We didn’t want to begin digging unless we absolutely had to, and the main portion of the cave wasn’t fully explored yet. We also had to be careful of time; if we got off on a tangential project trying to uncover the cave system for too long, we would be hiking back in the darkness, complete with howling winds and temperatures lower than anything observed on Terra. We could try opening up one of these passages another day if we had time.

Unfortunately, after only a couple more hours of following the main path and collecting small samples along the way, we found ourselves at something of a dead end. The cave ahead of us had collapsed; a solid wall of assorted rocks and clay impeded us from going any further. We searched the area for any sign of an opening, and found one: it was barely a foot in diameter, but far more uniform than any of the paths we had seen today. I could only partially shine my flashlight through the hole as I peered inside, observing the walls. A thin veil of dust coated the floor, and I noticed that the rocks lining the passage, whether they were large or small, were all cut away in chunks, as if something had taken a bite out of them. The passage continued for probably ten more feet before opening into what I figured would be the rest of the cave system, but instead, my light met with a dull silver material at the end of the passage. I could have mistaken it for clay, but it was different; it had a sort of sheen in the presence of light, which made me think it was more like iron. I was about to call this cave a bust when the iron shifted and moved. It changed from the dull silver color to a metallic black right before my eyes until finally, without warning, a pair of piercing sky-blue objects, glowing warmly with my light source, stared back at me.

I jumped and backpedaled with my hands at the sight of them, alerting my fellow explorers; however, when Ensus looked into the passage with his own light source just after, he saw nothing, not even the dull silver glow. We returned to base camp, disappointed that the alcove couldn’t be explored further without digging into the walls, and packed our climbing gear for tomorrow’s outing.

The Gethenians are calling it an illusion, a hallucination set on by cabin fever from the three days spent huddling together inside our tents. But I know what I saw. Those were eyes. Something was staring back at me from behind that cave-in.

---

Odyrny Osme.

Our return to base camp today after an eleven-day excursion up on the cliffs was both triumphant and disheartening: we had made it back alive despite being snowed inside of one of the three caves we explored up there for five straight days and having to dig our way through it to see the light of day again, but none of the three caves had any signs of activity in them. The only clue that we had was the sulfuric smell that we had caught wind of while spelunking deep in the second cave system. It is likely that this cave led very deep into the mountain, into the volcanic basin where the dormant magma lay. However, we couldn’t venture that far into the mountain if we wanted to because we were met with another cave-in a little further on after we first noticed the smell. The rock and clay samples we harvested would have to suffice for now.

We climbed down the cliffs yesterday and set up a temporary camp early, at the base of the mountains. A heavy snow was rolling in again, and we didn’t want to risk losing our bearings out on the Ice, even for the three miles that we would have to walk. We woke this morning, dug our way out of our partially-buried tents, and were prepared to set off when Maxa called us over to a patch of snow just south of our camp. He pointed out small, fresh indents in the packed powder, identical to the ones we had found in the clay earlier in the month, and they were directed further south, in the direction of our base camp. We followed them there, both excited at the possibility of finding some other form of life out here on the Ice and anxious that it may have found our base camp and done something horribly primal to our equipment.

Gethero has told me previously that he has excellent vision. It came as no surprise, then, that he was the first of the group to spot the creature as we approached base camp; it had its back to us, and was facing our heater-plows. The closer we got to it, the surer I became of what I was looking at. We could make out the unmarred, dusty plated iron armor on its back, its gray-black lower body, shimmering with melted snow, the perfectly circular pores that dotted its armor, and its stubby legs that barely poked up out of the packed powder beneath it. It must have heard us approaching, because it turned towards us just as we passed our largest tent. It had the same sky-blue eyes that I had seen inside the opening days ago, and stared at us inquisitively while back-stepping into a more defensive stance. It was as if it knew that we had caught it invading our territory, even though we staked no claim to this area aside from the necessities for scientific study.

In spite of how absolutely certain I was that I wasn’t hallucinating, I scanned each of my team members’ faces as we stopped in front of the Iron Armor Pokémon. They were as awestruck as I was. It was an Aron. A real, live Aron, all the way up here on the Gobrin Icecaps!

Our sense of awe changed to anger, though, when we turned our attention to the heater-plow behind it and realized just why it was here in the first place. It had chewed its way through several of the gears holding up the treads; they folded in on themselves as they no longer had the resistance needed to wrap tautly around the machine’s lower workings. Our eyes then turned back on the Aron sternly, and it stared back at us with guilt in its gaze.

The Gethenians were understandably upset by this turn of events, but were unsure how to proceed. After all, this was their first encounter with this sort of creature, and it was taking place in one of the most unexpected places on their planet. They turned to Lang and I like lost children, hoping to find out how we could deal with this intruder. I sighed deeply; I didn’t want to hurt the creature, nor did any of us, and we didn’t really have the materials to do so anyway, so there was only one option I could see. We would have to appease it and hope that it would leave quietly.

We all went inside of the large tent and procured some of the repair materials we brought with us, just in case we needed them for the heater-plows. Assorted gears and screws were all thrown hastily into a small bag. I made sure before showing these to the Aron that we had only given it a small portion of what we had, and that we had more than enough leftover items to repair the plow’s treads. It was a risk, but the plows ran so smoothly on our way up here that I doubted we would need to use any more of these materials. While Lang and the Gethenians pulled the bag out of the tent, I squared myself up between the Aron and the heater-plows and gave it a hard, firm look. I shook my head, hoping that it would understand that these machines were off-limits, and then pointed to the bag of gears. Interested, the Aron walked over to the bag to inspect it; as it did so, I followed behind, and stomped my foot in the snow next to it to get its attention. When it looked up to me, I pointed back at Drumner and motioned my head towards it. From what I could see in its eyes, it understood me, and it began ingesting the metal objects in the bag.

Sure enough, by the time night rolled around and we were all settling into the warm comfort of our tents, the Aron had finished its meal, and walked out of the camp, heading back towards Drumner. It looked back at us as it got to the edge of the camp, and I met its eyes for a few seconds. Then it turned and continued on its journey back to its home.

Lang told me afterwards that there was a certain level of respect in its eyes when it looked back at us. Though I’m not attuned to the emotions of Pokémon the same way that she is, I felt that she was right. But I’m still not sure what it means.

---

Opposthe Osme.

I am inclined to believe that even small victories have a lasting effect on the morale of my crew.

Today, they were more joyous and excited to be up here on the Ice than when we first set out. I have several reasons to believe this. For one, we had collected an abundance of samples from the caves that we explored to sift through for at least the next week, which didn’t require good conditions outside to process. For another, we were blessed with the fortune to actually see one of the creatures that lives in this area, completely alive and functioning, with our own eyes. And while we didn’t collect any samples directly from the Aron, we learned exactly what type of DNA to look for in our samples, since we were all certain of that species living on Drumner now.

Of course, these are the reasons a biologist would give for boosted morale, and as such, I admit to a certain level of egocentrism in listing them. If you were to ask one of the Gethenian members of my crew what was boosting their morale, they would place something else, something much more animalistic, at the top of the list.

You see, during our eleven-day trip inside the caves at the top of the cliffs, we passed through Onnetherhad, the eighteenth day of the Gethenian month, and the typical starting point for the cycle of kemmer. Now, kemmer is an interesting facet of the Gethenian personality because it begets such a strong desire for sexual interaction that the whole of one’s being becomes engrossed in pursuing it. We saw no such outbursts from the Gethenians while we were up on the mountainside, probably because we were all closely huddled together in a single tent every single night, and the intimacy that is often required for them to establish their sex drives was completely alienated by the presence of non-Gethenian observers. I don’t know about you, but I would have to agree that I wouldn’t want a strange third party observing me when I’m making intense love to the partner of my choice.

I use the word “intense” there, but I feel that it may be an understatement, given what the process of kemmer does to a Gethenian. To speak frankly, it changes them, utterly and completely, until the drives go away. The amazing thing about Winter’s inhabitants is that they are neither man nor woman when outside of kemmer; they are completely androgynous, all wearing the same chiseled, stone-like expressions on their thin bluish faces, and showing no signs of secondary sex characteristics on their lanky bodies. This androgyny is present for the first seventeen days of their month, before the pituitary glands begin to secrete sex hormones on Onnetherhad. The individual then enters secher, the first phase of kemmer, in which they very actively seek out partners but remain undifferentiated until they find one. If they don’t find consent for their impulses, they will not move into the later phases of the cycle, but if they do, they will enter the second phase, thoharmen. In this stage, the partners establish both intimacy and sexual tendencies; by perfectly calculated chance, one of the partners becomes biologically male (complete with enlargement of the testicular regions of the body and testosterone influx in the glands), and the other becomes biologically female (complete with engorgement of the breasts and spreading of the pelvic girdle). This process is rapid, usually occurring within one day of the phase beginning, and the individuals then enter the culminating phase of the cycle, thokemmer, where all of the sexual activity occurs, almost continuously.*

Lang and I have found that all four of our Gethenian friends have initiated this process amongst one another tonight; surely they are trying to make up for lost time, as they only have tonight and tomorrow to finish the cycle. We both feel bad for them; the rapidness of their entrance into the cycle means that they likely suppressed their sexual urges while we were still up on the cliffs. This would explain why they ate so little on those days and spoke to no one, because they were exerting all of their energy just to keep themselves under control. The Gethenians call this mediation of mental and physical energies dothe, a condition similar to an adrenaline surge in humans, but lasting for much longer. The process must have been taxing for them, because they moved in and out of dothe for approximately a week, and when four Gethenians are trying to suppress those emotions while in very close proximity to one another, the feelings must be unbearable. I hope to apologize to all of them for failing to recognize how dire their situation would be in the late throes of the month.

But now that we have returned to the safety, isolation, and relative privacy of our base camp, all bets are off; I doubt that we will see any sign of them for at least a day and a half, when we pass into a new month and their period of kemmer comes to a close. Once that happens, we will focus our efforts on repairing the broken heater-plow and unpacking all of the information stored in the molecules of the rocks and clay we collected in the caves.

Lang is resting her head on my shoulder, snoring softly. She was watching me type this report while we huddled close together next to the space heater at the center of our tent. Outside, the wind is howling with the force of a gale; our tents are protected from the damage that it could do thanks to the heater-plows. Honestly, I’m glad the wind is so strong tonight, because it means that the Gethenians can get the privacy and intimacy that they so rightfully deserve.

Even out in these terrible conditions, in the middle of half a planet full of glaciers, moments like this one make me glad we took this trip.

*All information given on the subject of kemmer is directly from my memory of the field notes of Investigator Oppong, the precursor to the Envoys, when he conducted his studies of the indigenous populations here a few hundred years ago. For the full reference material, please see “Envoy Reference TLHD”, Chapter 7, starting on page 95.

---

Eps Ockre.

Four days since my last message. Tomorrow, we will be two crewmembers shorter, due to forces beyond our control.

To be clear, I don’t claim clairvoyance on the matter; it is simply biology running its course. One thing that I forgot to mention about kemmer in my last writing is that, should conception occur, the female-oriented partner will remain potent for the entirety of both the conception and gestation period, in order to meet the needs of the fertilized zygote that will grow into a Gethenian child. The male-oriented partner returns to latency and androgyny, but is considered to have “sired” the child due to social norms. Therefore, depending on chance, a single Gethenian could be mother to several children and father to several more.

In humans, this process of conceiving a child is very anonymous for the first few weeks; there are both symptoms and tests for pregnancy, but none of them are one-hundred percent accurate, at least to my knowledge. In the one-hundred thirty-two years I have been away from Terra, a new means of testing that guarantees an accurate result may have been created. Regardless, the inhabitants of Winter see nothing of this anonymity; if the process of kemmer has occurred and the individual slips even one day into the next month while still prominently displaying the secondary sex characteristics of a female, they have conceived, and should prepare as such. This was the case for Gethero, whom Lang has been monitoring for the past couple of days to keep stress levels at a minimum. After all, when carrying what will eventually grow into a child around inside of you, one does not necessarily want to find oneself in unfavorable conditions, such as the ones we find ourselves in now, on top of the Ice.

Thankfully, we have repaired the heater-plow in our three days of downtime since we found out that Gethero had conceived. Maxa, Gethero’s kemmer partner for this cycle, has agreed to take both of them home to the Gobrin research base, where they can be transported back to Orgoreyn, a much more stable environment for their child’s birth and gestation. They will take the newly-repaired plow, their share of the rations and repair equipment, and the news of our recent success with them when they go tomorrow.

That will leave myself, Lang, Ensus, and Nirm to sift through all of the information contained within the samples that we collected in the caves over the course of Osme. It will take a little while longer for us to get through all of it, surely, but it isn’t an issue. There are only a couple more possible locations for cave openings on the rocky portions of Drumner; others could be located in the icy upper levels of the mountainside, but those would require several days of climbing to get to, and that is time that we don’t have. They can be investigated by those who come after us, whether I do so during a follow-up visit or the Gethenians take the matters of science into their own hands in my absence.

We have made plans to set off for these two openings in the morning, after seeing Gethero and Maxa off. I wish them the best of luck, and thank them for their service and cooperation with our efforts.

---

Berny Ockre.

Four days on Drumner, almost two of those days snowed inside our tents up on the cliffs. The cave openings turned out to be busts, as well – one of them was a very large sinkhole that was tightly sealed with what appeared to be years of snow accumulation, and the other was an outpost of sorts – a rock jutting awkwardly off of the cliff-face that acted as a roof for us when the blizzards rolled in at the end of the second day. We made it back here to base camp just a few hours ago, feeling like we had lost a lot of time and ground.

I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. We have gathered plenty of samples from the other caves, and have seen physical proof that Aron live in the vicinity. We will begin processing everything that we have tomorrow; I expect to be finished with it in a week or so. Then we can begin planning how we’re going to tackle Dremegole for the final leg of our investigation.

---

Onnetherhad Ockre.

We have made several breakthroughs over the past eleven days on the nature of Drumner and its cave systems. As expected, there is more to this mountain than what first appears to be true. In the barren wasteland of the Ice, we may have found a nesting site for a sizeable population of Pokémon.

Our first objective was investigating the structure of the caves themselves. We have found that they may, in fact, be artificially formed, at least partially, by the residents of this mountain. To be more specific, we took trace samples of the walls of all of the caves we explored and found an exact replica of DNA in every single sample. The gene combinations that we found are consistent with those of a single Aggron, the final stage in the Aron evolutionary line; this matches up with our findings on other planets of the Ekumen, where an Aggron will claim an entire mountain to itself. From what we can infer, these tunnels were carved throughout the mountain by the Aggron that claimed Drumner as a means of safer passage for its subjects, such as the Aron that we have interacted with on two separate occasions now. According to our records, it is unlikely for male Aggron to allow others of its kind on the mountain that it claims, even those within its own species; therefore, we are making the assumption, for now, that the one claiming responsibility over this mountain is female.

I wondered how this assumption would affect Ensus and Nirm, given the biology of their kind and how fundamentally different it is than their own; surprisingly, they are fascinated by the utter dichotomy of the species, which stands in complete contrast to what they know. Back home in Karhide and Orgoreyn, they say, individuals that are always male or female are considered perverse, and are outcast from society to be nothing greater than prostitutes. But here is a group of animals that survives entirely without their system centralized on androgyny, and it does so in worse conditions than anything seen south of the Gobrin borders. I would have thought that this change in perspective would be most difficult for Nirm because he was raised on the values of kings and indentured servitude in Karhide, but it does not seem this way. He has spoken to me a few times already, as we were going through the samples, about how incredible it must be for Aron’s evolutionary line to thrive in conditions that are cause for exile in his country. I would simply laugh, and tell him that science and biology are not limited by these boundaries, which seems to fuel his intrigue even more.

In fact, it was he who made the first observation of the strangest concept we have come across about the caves from what we have found so far: there is a startling scarcity of Aron DNA located in the dust, rock, and clay samples that we have available. Only one of the openings that we explored, the one that we smelled the sulfur fumes in, has enough of a population trace to be considered “inhabited”. And yet, we have seen an Aron venture out of the mountains and even onto the Ice with our own eyes. It’s possible that this behavior is not common, but if that is the case, then where have all of the rest of the Aron gone?

The conclusion that we have come to is that the population lies deep within the mountain, closer to the volcanic shelf, where the mineral content of the rocks is most concentrated. We have come to this conclusion for two reasons. First and foremost, Aron’s physical growth has been directly linked to its mineral intake in multiple studies and scenarios; the more minerals it ingests, and the higher the quality of those minerals, the stronger it will become as it matures. Our second clue was the cave-ins that we were met with each time we advanced deep into the cave openings. If the Aggron that claimed this mountain does indeed oversee its subjects, it would want to ensure that invaders, however unlikely they are, would have a hard time getting into the hub areas that these subjects live in, to allow them to grow safely.

We then asked the question that is likely on your mind right now: where would intruders come from out in the middle of a giant glacier? Our next piece of evidence seemed to give us something of an idea about it. Before realizing the fact that the population of Aron is likely to inhabit the deepest reaches of Drumner, we would have thought that there would be a lot of footprints from this species in the dust samples we took from the floors of the caves. What we found instead were multiple gene combinations for Lairon, indicating a decent population of this stage, littering the floors of all of these caves. Now, Lairon is a lot pickier in terms of what it ingests than Aron is: Lairon are known to eat only rocks that are heavy in iron content, in order to build up its coat of armor. The cave-ins that impeded our progress had a distribution of rocks that contained no traces of iron in the samples that we took from them. Therefore, it is likely that these cave-ins act as much as barriers for us as they do for these Lairon that seem to be walking around in the outermost hallways of the volcano: they will not pass through them because the rocks that are blocking the passage can no longer be ingested in their stage of evolution. I’m sure it’s possible that the Lairon could simply try to smash through the barricades; we found some signs of blunt-force trauma in the faces of some of the caved-in rocks to support this concept, but none of the barriers were outright knocked down to our knowledge.

While we have made significant progress thanks to our samples and the diligence of my crew, there are still so many questions left unanswered. For one, how does this system account for evolutions? When the Aron finally grow enough to be capable of evolving, are they simply trapped inside the mountain, and seek out a different living place therein? Do they dig and eat their way out before evolving? Could their new living spot be located closer to the basin, where mineral water is likely to be abundant, to accommodate Lairon’s diet? And in the face of all of this information, where does Dremegole come in? Does it serve the same purpose as Drumner, just to a different colony of Pokémon?

What we do know for sure is that Dremegole is a mere two-day drive away to the southeast. We must cross a narrow pass to reach our destination, an ice bridge that spans the length of the Great Gobrin Trench, in order to set up camp at its base. This will also put us in a comfortable position to return home when we’re finished there, as we may simply follow the trench southwest until we reach its edge, nearly three hundred miles from our projected base camp at Dremegole.

We shall wait out the end of this month here to accommodate Ensus and Nirm’s kemmer cycle. Once they are prepared, we will make the journey in our heater-plows to the final destination of this study. With any luck, we will find the answers that we are looking for.

---

Ottormenbod Ockre.

The end of the second month. I wasn’t expecting to be typing again for another couple of days, but we had a rather strange experience at the camp just a few moments ago.

Lang and I had just finished packing up the collective tent with all of our research materials and loading the contents onto our heater-plows for tomorrow’s journey to Dremegole. We were settling into our sleeping bags for the night, expecting to get an early start tomorrow, when we were jarred awake by a horribly loud sound outside our tents: a bellowing roar that pierced the sound of the gale-force winds of the Ice. Racked with fear, we four (including Ensus and Nirm, who I suspect were no longer interested in sex) peeked our heads outside of the tents to try to locate the source of the noise.

It was difficult to see with the darkness and blowing snow hindering our eyesight, but we could make out a shadowy figure approaching the camp. It was quadrupedal and quite heavy, by the sound of its footsteps. We could just barely make out the rough, armored exterior, like a prehistoric dinosaur walking around in an Ice Age. Despite the rugged appearance, its armor shimmered with the snowflakes, indicating a build of polished iron. And that’s when I saw the eyes. The same sky-blue eyes, again. Only this time, they were attached to something much more intimidating.

The Aron that had visited our camp in Osme had evolved into a Lairon, and it was heading straight for our tents.

We all stood up to meet it in spite of ourselves and our drowsiness from being abruptly jolted awake in the late hours of the night. We weren’t sure what it could want with us, but considering what we had to do to get rid of it last time, we didn’t know if it would leave us with anything to get home with this time. It approached us without intimidation; I met its eyes for a second, and it returned the glance unwavering. Lang noted that it seemed very serious about something, but she wasn’t sure what that was. Finally, it stopped just a few feet in front of us, and scanned our faces with the same piercing glare.

After a couple of tense moments, its gaze shifted somewhere else, behind us. We turned to see what it was looking at, and shielded our faces to protect us from the blowing snow. There, off in the distance, Dremegole stood, shadowy and distorted in the bowels of the storm. Lang stated that, perhaps, that mountain was its destination; it made that notion all the more clear with what it did next.

With an ease of effort that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time, Lairon walked over to one of our heater-plows. We suspected foul play again, and started running after it to try to stop it; not one of us was brave enough to entertain the thought that our plows were made of aluminum and stainless steel, rather than the iron that was an integral part of its diet. Sure enough, instead of attempting to ingest the metals in our machines, it simply lowered its head and pressed its armored forehead onto the plow. It gave a grunt of exertion, and began pushing the ten-ton machine towards Dremegole. The heater-plow slid so smoothly across the Ice and snow while Lairon pushed it that one might confuse its movements with that of a regular plow out on the open dirt roads of Karhide or Orgoreyn. Our tent, attached to the plow by cables to prevent any unnecessary damage and to keep us from blowing away, skidded along the ground after it. Lairon pushed the plow for around a minute before it slowed to a stop, returned to the second plow, and repeated the process. By the time it was finished, both of our tents were several hundred feet closer to Dremegole, and we were left, staring in disbelief, out in the cold.

Lairon shook its head and huffed out a deep breath as we approached, assuring us that it was finished with its work. Then, just as abruptly as it entered our camp, it walked next to the heater-plow anchoring Lang’s and my tent to the ground, shuffled its feet in the snow for a minute to dig it up, and then laid down. It was asleep before we could make any sense of the situation and return to our tents to try to get some sleep ourselves.

I can hear its low, deep breaths just outside as I sit here typing this message. I have questioned many facets of the nature of our worlds before, but I have always arrived at an explanation or theory that can adequately answer those questions. This scenario defies those answers. The only logical reason for Lairon’s behavior could be that it’s paying us back for the materials we fed it when it was an Aron; however, even that possibility is flawed, because we were appealing to its basic needs in order to get it to leave our camp. We feed you, and you leave us alone; if the cosmic scales of karma existed, one should think that we would be “even” at this point. Of course, that also assumes that Lairon even had a reason to do what it did, since I can’t see any intentions behind its actions. If its destination was indeed Dremegole, why would it want to drag us along with it? It couldn’t have possibly known that we were also planning to go there as well, because in all cases before this one, there has not been a confirmation of telepathy in this species of Pokémon, even back home on Terra, where telepathy is a common practice for both humans and those creatures attuned to the Psychic energies. I’m not ruling out the possibility that this could be one of the rarest finds in the recorded universe, but the fact that neither Lang nor I have heard anything of its mind when we are attuned to telepathy ourselves makes it extremely unlikely.

I shall continue to try to unravel this mystery in the coming days as I attempt to explain to Ensus and Nirm that Lairon is the same creature that was eating our heater-plow previously. I have not entirely convinced myself that this isn’t all just a bad dream, though, and that these words I am typing are imaginary and shall never be seen by anyone other than myself. I suppose I shall have my answer in the morning when we set out; for now, I will hold my tongue and try to go back to sleep.

---

Sordny Kus.

Two days have passed since the encounter with Lairon; we are in the third month of the study. For the past two months, when I have entered the tent to settle in for the night, I have been surrounded by a seemingly never-ending expanse of ice. Today, as I sat down to type this message, I am encased in it.

The windstorm that blew all around us that night continued throughout our voyage to Dremegole, and, I assume, continues still at this point. From where we are now, though, none of us can hear it howling anymore. We are all thankful for that.

While Tulier’s maps of the Gobrin have been an integral part of our success thus far, there is one aspect of the environment that even these high-quality photographs can’t show us: the climate and weather patterns of the area. I am led to believe now, by Lairon’s behavior in reaction to this storm, that it is a regular occurrence in the vicinity of Drumner and Dremegole; otherwise, how would it have known to find a place to hide out until the storm passes? The wind seemed to be blowing up the side of Drumner as usual when we set out, but it did so with such great intensity that we were worried if even our heater-plows could stand up to them. With that kind of a gale colliding with the ice and snow farther up the mountain, there’s no doubt in our minds that a massive blizzard would follow on the other side, in the valley between Drumner and Dremegole. This valley was our direct route between the mountains, as well, so we would have been driving in the thick of it as we were crossing to the final destination of this study. And given that the location of the ice bridge crossing the Great Gobrin Trench was directly in the path of this storm, we probably wouldn’t have survived the encounter, falling to our deaths in the endless void that exists in this crack in the glacier-top.

Of course, as we found out early this morning, the ice bridge doesn’t span two sides of the glacier over top of such a void; it would have just been a very long drop if we fell off. On the first day of travel, Lairon led us to a large incline that slopes down from the base of Drumner, about a half-mile from the cave system that we followed its tracks to so long ago. The incline is only barely visible on Tulier’s maps, and is only wide enough for us to move single-file through it with the plows. However, it is a low incline, allowing us to control our speed with a fair amount of precision, and it runs directly underneath the ice bridge after a few hours of traveling on it. I would have to estimate that it runs about five-hundred feet below the bridge itself, a height from which we would surely have been crushed by the weight of the plows should the unthinkable happen and the wind blow us to our dooms. After many more hours of travel, the incline became parallel with the direction of the Great Gobrin Trench, and snaked its way underneath Dremegole, into a collection of crystalline caves. We have set up our camp inside of one such cave, far enough away from the open air of the Trench that the wind is no longer ringing in our ears every step of the way.

One important note about the topography of this incline was that it wasn’t a smooth ride for the plows, which rules out the idea that it is naturally formed, due to the clean cleaving patterns of solid ice. Rather, I suspect that it was made artificially by the Pokémon in this area, stamped flat from many years of use moving into and out of the Dremegole subterranean cave system. We had planned on stopping at one point to try to take a sample of the incline for our DNA research, but that ended with the wind almost pulling the door to the passenger side of the plow that Nirm and I were traveling in off its hinges and away on the breeze, like a tornado carrying the doors to a barn. It was only thanks to an intervention by Lairon, who sensed the danger and jumped up to slam the door shut with his head, that we did not suffer any injuries in the incident.

Speaking of which, Lairon actually walked the whole way through the storm despite us asking it if it wanted to ride with our cargo in the back of the heater-plows out of courtesy before we set out. It is incredible how resilient his species is in the face of the elements of nature: the snow, ice, and wind roared outside, but he never broke his stride as he traveled ahead of our plows, guiding us to the incline and then through the valley that it passed across, and it is likely that, in his unevolved state, he lived in the presence of lava within a habitat of extreme heat and pressure. But it was more than just its natural resistance thanks to its typing and eating habits; throughout the entire trip, Lairon kept its gaze affixed on its destination, never once allowing any trauma, internal or external, to keep it from its goal. It is almost as if it has some sort of devotion to this mountain, but we are still unsure what resolution it is hoping to accomplish here. All we know is that it doesn’t seem to mean us harm, and that’s good enough for everyone but me.

I fear that even with the nature of the storm outside shown to us and Lairon’s purpose of guiding us resolved, none of the questions that I posed in the previous entry have been answered. Certainly it pushed the plows to give us an idea that it was going to have us follow it to this crystal cave, and if we didn’t do that, we probably would have died to the powerful storm outside, but why take us here at all? What purpose does it hope to serve us, or rather, what purpose does it hope we will serve to its cause? We are still unsure as to why it chose to travel to Dremegole, and while the passage of time will likely hold answers for us, we are completely in the dark about this situation we find ourselves in for now. I wouldn’t want to wish paranoia on any of my crewmembers, especially not out here in the middle of the frozen wasteland, and our current situation seems to only be aggravating its possibility.

But I suppose I worry too much. We have traveled for two days without rest in the heater-plows, and these thoughts are keeping me from getting the sleep I need to conduct our investigation of this ecosystem efficiently. Nirm has told me to count my blessings when I have them before, and I guess now is as good a time as any. It is a wonder I was able to recount this much, given how groggy I am currently feeling. I will type more on the nature of our current location and anything else that comes up in tomorrow’s log.

---

Eps Kus.

We are all rested and refreshed now from our nonstop journey to reach this subterranean level of Dremegole. Although the cave that we find ourselves in at the moment seems like a stable enough environment to set up camp in, we agreed to only unpack the research materials we would need as we went along, rather than pulling them all out only to have to pack them back up again when the storm finally died down outside and we headed for the more elevated levels of the mountain.

In the meantime, our immediate environment does show some promise as to the nature of the caves of this volcano and their possibility of harboring similar natives to the caves of Drumner. Despite our location inside of the glacier, it is definitely a cave, and a large one; the floors are rocky and little light is present from the outside world, save for what filters in from the narrow entrance passage that leads back out into the Great Gobrin Trench. Above our heads, stalactites reach down towards us, coated in a thin layer of ice that sometimes drips fresh water down to the ground. In the spots where this water drops, the floor has eroded and the water has pooled inside the space that is created. We took a drink from one such pool this morning, and while the contents were both numbingly cold and a little bit powdery, it is the first water source that we have come across on our expedition that we didn’t need to filter with our heaters in order to drink.

The basin may not be far away from our current location, either. In fact, at the farthest end of this cave is a small passageway that leads to a much larger pool of water, eroded and filled with countless years of droplets from above. This water room doesn’t seem to lead anywhere else, but it is warmer than the water in our base cave, indicating some amount of convection from the magma reserves deep underground. We will most likely be taking our water from this pool because it is the most convenient source available to us.

Lairon will be joining us in drinking from this large pool; it spent a large portion of the morning drinking from it without stopping. This is consistent with the behavior of Lairon on other planets of the Ekumen, who consume their iron-based needs primarily through osmosis in the bloodstream from their water source inside of volcanoes and the like. They will drink until they are bloated and then work off the excess fluids through physical activity for the remainder of the day. While we worked on our research, we checked in on Lairon periodically, and found that each time it was either bashing its head against the rocks of the cave or going back to the spring for another drink. As usual, it did these things with the same determined look that it had shown us since we met it.

It could be that Lairon expects some competition in the near future. We ventured out of the cave and into the Trench for just long enough to collect a sample of the icy ground out there. We wouldn’t have wanted to stay out there any longer regardless, due to how loudly and strongly the wind was blowing even that far below the eye of the storm. Sure enough, the results of our experiment with this sample suggest that the incline was artificially formed by a large group of Lairon pounding up and down it over many years. This strongly hints at the concept that Dremegole serves as a migratory destination for Lairon from Drumner once they evolve; they leave the cave system that they grew up in and head for a water source that is not protected by the cave-ins created by the Aggron holding domain over the mountain at the time. We are still unsure as to why they cannot simply find a way to coexist within the environment that they grew up, as it is likely that Drumner contains a similar basin to the one here on Dremegole from which they may drink to fulfill their basic needs. However, we may find an answer to this question if the expected competition arrives in the coming days.

I am intrigued by a conversation that Lang and Ensus were having towards the end of the day, when we were all beginning to unwind just before bed. Lang, of course, is fascinated by Lairon’s behavior, and is attempting to puzzle out possible reasons for its training here in the cave. I pointed out that the strength it could gain from this training would give it an advantage over other Lairon, who hadn’t yet made it to this location to train for themselves; Ensus offered his own take on the behavior, suggesting that Lairon’s regiment indicated signs of a strong leader. He explained that one who wishes to lead one’s people must set a good example for them by committing to their actions with absolution and not straying from them once they are carried out. While I feel that Ensus’ opinion is heavily influenced by the proletariat overthrow that recently occurred in Orgoreyn, I believe that his point may lead us somewhere. We still haven’t figured out the connection between Drumner and the Aggron that gets to rule over it. Has it been the same Aggron for many years now? Is the right directly linked to the strength of the candidates for the spot, and the one that comes out on top in a competition claims ownership of the mountain? We do not know the hypothesis to ask that would arrive at an outcome, and therefore, we cannot know the answer just yet, just like how we are still unsure what Lairon’s motives are for leading us here. Perhaps the answers to these questions are linked somehow? That is the feeling that I’m getting as I ponder this whole situation.

I can hear it breathing outside again. It seems to make an imperative out of sleeping near to Lang and my tent each night, as well as giving me a fierce look for a few moments just before it curls up to go to sleep. There is no question that this behavior is intentional, and Lang and I can feel a deep sense of respect and compassion emanating from Lairon when it does this, but why? What does it see in me that could be so important to it? Does it know the answers to the questions that I have, and is trying to give me some sort of signal?

There are too many questions, and I am but a single biologist. I shall wait out the month and see what unfolds; then my crew and I will form our conclusions based on the data that we collect. I shall write again when something new unfolds.

---

Orny Kus.

Just as we hypothesized, Lairon was expecting competition here in the caves of Dremegole. They arrived, one at a time, periodically over the past five days.

In total, there are about thirty Lairon sharing the cave with us now, but this pocket in the glacier is expansive enough, so we don’t really have to worry about not having enough room to function. The scene that played out when each one arrived was almost comical, as it went about almost the exact same way for each of the new visitors when they passed my crew and I. They would first walk over to our heater-plows and sniff at the machines, and then they would sniff each of us individually. When they couldn’t smell any iron on either the machines or our persons, save for the trace amounts that were present in the water we drank, they would give a low huffing sound, almost like a scoff, and lumber off down the passageway to gorge themselves at the large pool of water. It was a little off-putting at first, being rejected by the indigenous population, but at the very least, we aren’t expecting any stray attacks from any of them, because we haven’t been labeled as potential threats to their little competition.

It was difficult distinguishing all of the Lairon from one another at first, but we looked up a possible means by which to identify them when manual tagging is impossible, and arrived at a solution. Due to the newly-acquired competitive nature of this stage in the evolutionary line, battles between them are common, and wounds in their armor or thick skin heal very slowly. We began to note the various wounds that the Lairon displayed and identify them based on those features. Our Lairon only has a few marks on its forehead from moving the heater-plows and training in solitude before the rest of the competition arrived, so it is fairly easy to spot in a crowd.

Speaking of looking things up, we noticed as we were looking for possible distinguishing features for the group that Lairon, as a species, doesn’t have any gender differences. This is an important piece of information because it throws a new spin on this entire situation that we hadn’t thought of before. While the behavior patterns of female members of this evolutionary line don’t indicate as much competitive activity as that of the male members, there is nothing saying that several or all of the Lairon here aren’t female. We don’t really have any way of knowing; like the Gethenians, they are an androgynous species, at least in terms of body structure. From the sparring matches that we have witnessed so far (which seem to be practice for the real thing, as no major injuries have occurred yet), each Lairon has an equal chance for victory, indicating that both males and females of the group have an equal chance of becoming the owner of Drumner at the end of the competition, if it is directly linked to that position and if both genders are present, as we have theorized. Should this hold true, then we can conclude that the overseeing of offspring and lower stages of evolution is not something that is solely linked to the female side of this species, which disrupts years of research on the subject from other planets.

Is this phenomenon exclusive to Winter? We are unsure, but this finding is sure to cause renewed interest in this species throughout the Ekumen in order to further chronicle the various forms of life that call our Galactic System home.

---

Odgetheny Kus.

The competition between the Lairon has gotten fierce over the past six days. Visible wounds have been added to the ones on display previously, and there is a clear hierarchy being established amongst the group. When the Lairon butt heads with one another, as is their traditional means of showing their strength in battle, sparks from the impact fly outwards in all directions; the sheer power behind some of the blows that we’ve seen have illuminated the entire cave for a brief second after the impact due to the quantity of sparks being generated.

Amidst all of the battles, our Lairon has remained steadfast in its approach to the competition. It observes each match that occurs closely, with the same determination that we’ve come to expect from it by now. In this way, it thinks to a greater degree than we believe its brethren do; where they attempt to smash their way through the competition with brute force, our Lairon chooses its fights and uses what it has seen to conquer any challenger that stands in its way.

Our observations over the course of this month have given us a great deal of insight into the personality shift that appears to occur during the evolutionary process from Aron to Lairon. While we don’t really have field data to explain the behavior of the first stage of this evolutionary line, we have data explored by previous experiments and field studies to rely on as a mold for our hypotheses. These studies suggest that Aron is a relatively passive species by comparison to its later stages, as its primary concern in the day-to-day process isn’t ruling over a domain that it has claimed or enabling competition amongst its group to determine the alpha. Instead, Aron focuses most of its energy on consumption, and getting the food that it needs in order to both survive and grow in strength for the time when it evolves. In this way, the pre-evolutions of this species appear to have a great deal of foresight into the nature of their later stages, and they prepare themselves in order to be ready for these changes.

This passive nature in the basic form of this species is supported by a couple of our own observations in our study. For one, we were unable to find more than a single case of physical evidence that a population of Aron are living inside Drumner. In the case that we did find, the Pokémon seemed intimidated by our presence even though it was probably more threatening to us than we could ever hope to be to it. For another, we can infer that this population exists simply by looking at the sheer number of Lairon that have shown up to this cave that we are in to compete for dominance. This stage has made itself known because it has something to prove to whatever else calls this mountain home; the population of Aron, on the other hand, does not have anything to prove, even to each other, and so they remain hidden from observers unless those observers are able to venture into the deepest reaches of their habitat. Previous experiments on other planets have made an effort to venture into this habitat; in the future, we may follow in their footsteps, and bore our way through the barriers blocking us at Drumner in order to find more conclusive evidence of this behavior pattern.

When an Aron evolves into a Lairon, generally speaking, it appears to become almost obsessed with the spirit of competition. These new thought patterns govern virtually all of its actions after the evolution occurs, and because of the change, it is mostly unable to coexist peacefully with the other inhabitants of its former environment. It must therefore seek out a new place to live, where it can find the materials it needs to survive and also fulfill its need for competition. It is likely that this is the reason that we are observing a large group of Lairon exclusively in this cave, because this habitat meets both of those objectives, along with being a relatively safe and secure place that isn’t much affected by the harsh weather patterns of the Ice.

Speaking of which, the migratory route to get to this subterranean level appears to be a sort of test of willpower for the Lairon. The cold and wind tempers their bodies, and the sense of isolation that comes from traveling alone across the icy wastelands prepares them for their experience when they achieve their final evolution, where they will live in solitude for as long as they claim ownership over their domain. Indeed, the whole system that is in place here, even for being one of the harshest places on Winter, seems very well accustomed to the behavior patterns of this species. Of course, we aren’t expecting to find any casualties along the route as we travel back out onto the Ice, because if they were unprepared for the journey outside, the Aron would not have evolved in the first place.

In conclusion, the vast majority of our questions have been answered in terms of the ecosystem that this species lives in and how it interacts with its environment at this point. An Aron is born and grows in the depths of Drumner, where its needs for solid and concentrated minerals are met. Once it has ingested enough to prepare it for the migration, it evolves into a Lairon and leaves Drumner. We are unsure what exit route they use to get out of the mountain, given that every possible exit that we found was blocked off by cave-ins, but we are aware of the fact that this migration is not likely to occur without the proper weather conditions. The massive storm that we outran at the beginning of this month appears to signal the migration, as it is the most powerful storm that we have seen yet on the Ice, and surely serves as a worthy test for the Lairon wishing to make the migration to Dremegole. Once they are here, their needs are met through the mineral-infused water sources located in the subterranean levels of the volcano and the rest of the group that evolved and migrated here, which serves as their competition to measure up to. This competition appears to go on until an evolution occurs; we are unsure of what happens after the evolution, but we may find our answer in the coming days. We are also unsure if this entire process works in reverse, with Aron growing up deep inside Dremegole migrating to the water sources beneath Drumner for competition; this is a matter that will need to be tested by other field studies in the future.

That really leaves us with only a single odd variable out: our case study, our Lairon. As I have made evident from my previous entries into this log, it appears to think on a higher level than its brethren here in the cave; it evokes a personal devotion to the sense of competition that it learned when it evolved, and every action that it takes appears to be connected to that devotion. We are still unsure to what end this personality trait will serve it, but we have formed some theories to explain what we’ve seen.

I have stated Ensus’ side of the argument previously: he believes that our Lairon’s behavior indicates signs of a strong leader. Today, while we were discussing the matter, Nirm offered his own spin on the debate. The responsibility that it seems to have towards its own destiny, he explained, indicates a level of compassion for its trade that the others of its kind don’t seem to be able to comprehend. It embraces the spirit of competition that its evolution instilled within it, and therefore works to master its control over it by watching, learning, and applying. This goes along with Ensus’ opinion on the matter, because an organism that masters its environment and behaviors will become incredibly strong as a result, and will be very well accustomed to leading its underlings towards gaining the strength that it found over the course of its lifetime. Lang is in agreement with the fact that a combination of the two opinions seems to be the strongest theory that we have to explain our Lairon’s behavior, because there appears to be both biological and psychological reasons for its actions. In addition, she thinks that there is likely a social connection, and that link may explain why it took us along with it to Dremegole. Whereas the other Lairon were simply indifferent to our presence in the cave due to their individualistic competitive mindset, our Lairon seems to welcome us into the vignette of its life that we have been subject to. This supports Nirm’s theory about its compassionate mindset, because an organism with compassion, especially one that is a leader to others, displays neither fear nor aggression in the face of a potential competitor or unusual circumstances. Rather, it exhibits a certain sense of control, both over its own energies and in knowing what the circumstance in question (us, for example) is doing at all times, and correcting them assertively if they overstep their boundaries.

Personally, I don’t know what to think of this situation anymore. I had been assured when we set out on this journey, based on my own life experiences, that there was a purely biological explanation for every action that any organism in the universe takes, but now, I’m not so sure that biology can explain everything on its own. I am in agreement with the theories that have been presented by my crew to explain our case study, but I am skeptical of their application because the psychology that goes into their theories is not easily quantified in data without a large group of similar organisms. Here, we have only one case of this behavior to measure from, and it does not appear to be a good indicator of anything that the population is as a whole. What Lairon’s motives are, both with us and with its own kind, may never be numerically defined to us, and therefore, I am ill to accept such an explanation.

Or, at least, I should be ill to accept it; the biologist that I was when I was trained to be an Envoy years ago would tell me so. But our Lairon…it exhibits this energy and fervor in everything it does that isn’t typical of its species. Usually, this fervor is reserved for the competitive nature of humans, because it involves the subjectivity, the drive, which comes natural to our inquisitive species. I want to find an empirical answer for this problem, but at the same time, I want there to be more to this equation than just biology. We may have made a powerful new discovery into the subjective nature of Pokémon with our Lairon, and that knowledge would foster countless experiments across the light-years of planets within the Ekumen. This spread of knowledge and passion is central to our mission, and I wouldn’t want to hold it back by discounting it.

I am troubled by this matter, but I believe, in spite of my own desire, that there are more important things to worry about at this moment. I have observed our Lairon’s matches with the others as the competition has gotten fiercer. I think the other Lairon are very much aware of its cognitive advantage, because they appear to exhibit frustration with their losses. No matter how they throw themselves at our case study, it shakes them off without a second thought. There has been more than one point where a Lairon that just recently lost to ours pounded its head against the cave wall with such force that it caused a small tremor in the cave system. I am loathing thinking of what this frustration could mean if it was ever turned against us, because for all of their indifference towards us, we are simply collateral damage to them if the worst should happen.

I shall alert my crew of this matter tomorrow, not to put them on edge, but to make them aware that, at any given moment, we may need to escape from this place with all haste. I can only hope that we make it out without losing anyone.

---

Onnetherhad Kus.

The lunar cycle of Winter is an omnipresent force that governs not only climate changes throughout the planet, but also the sexual activation of the most human-like species that lives here, the Gethenians. And now, we may add a new candidate to the list that it oversees: the climax of the competitive nature of the Lairon living around the Great Gobrin Trench.

We awoke this morning to a circle of iron masses in the center of the cave. All of the Lairon had gathered together, crowding around a focal point amongst the rocks and pools of water. And there, in the center of the mass, was our Lairon, bent low to the ground and emitting a frustrated and painful growl as it shook violently. Indeed, “violent” is a keen way to describe the process, because even the ground around our Lairon rocked as the pain of the process was imparted to every fiber of its powerful frame. We could do nothing except for watch in awe and horror as its body contorted slightly, its unmarred armor giving way to the uncontrollable spasms and sending it reeling in agony. Despite everything that was happening, it never withdrew from the process; it stood its ground, not willing to even bend a knee to this test of strength. After all, it had accepted its fate long before anyone or anything else in the cave would.

And then, all at once, our Lairon blazed with a surging white light that enveloped its entire body; even the Lairon surrounding it, which had lacked in any reaction to the process thus far, had to squint their eyes as the ray filled the entire cave with light. Our eyes couldn’t escape the power of the light, either; we shielded our faces with our hands, and howled with a sensation of our own pain as the bright flash caused a few seconds of momentary blindness in each of us. When we finally blinked the spots from our eyes, we returned our gaze to the center of the group, and found a more fearsome creature standing where our Lairon had once been. It stood up on its two back legs, exhibiting the thick iron horns that had grown in on the top of its head and the sharp, toe-like claws that had developed on its forelegs. Its iron armor coating now mostly covered its spinal column, but its thick black skin seemed to have hardened in the shape of an armor piece itself, and was no doubt as strong as one. It opened its sky-blue eyes slowly, readjusting to the dim light of the cave, and then looked skyward, letting out a bellowing roar. We covered our ears this time, and the Lairon surrounding it flinched as the sound vibrated through the pores of their armor.

Our Lairon had achieved the final stage of its kind. It had evolved into an Aggron.

The environment stood still for a moment; Aggron appeared to be sizing up its competition to its newfound body and power, while my crew and the Lairon were coming to terms with the fact that the caves of Dremegole had chosen their champion, the individual among them that stood the greatest chance of conquering Drumner.

Then, everything moved. If there is a Hell in the Yomesh pantheon, it broke loose then and there, in that cave.

Whether it was frustration at their previous losses, disappointment at not being the one to evolve, or spite taken on due to their competitive nature, an emotional fervor overtook the crowd of Lairon, and they all jumped at Aggron simultaneously. Their attacks were aggressive, mindless, and desperate; they threw themselves at it in an act of sheer disparity, hoping to change the process, to usurp the power found within our case study for themselves. Aggron was able to fend them off fairly well, but despite its battling expertise and high-end cognition, it was still outnumbered twenty-nine to one. They clawed, bit, and slashed their way through its rock-solid defenses, and eventually, we lost sight of it amidst the flailing bodies of tempered iron.

My crew and I understood the brevity of the situation, and turned to make our escape in the heater-plows; however, it wasn’t long before we became the target of a part of the group. Their aggression seemed both limitless and without direction; in the despair of not being the alpha of the group, they lashed out at everything, not thinking about consequences, injuries, or what was a friend or foe. They allowed their basest, most primal instincts to take over, and they lunged at us with the intent of breaking us until we were nothing but dust in their wake. And we couldn’t outrun their quadrupedal figures, especially not on the ice-glossed ground of the cave. Three of them pushed ahead of the group, intent on spilling our blood first; we ran as fast as we could, but they grew closer and closer with each step.

And then Aggron rejoined the fight. It roared in frustration and defiance, sending iron bodies flying in all directions as it regained itself in the center of the cave. With a speed unlike anything we expected from a creature of its framework, it sped over to our aggressors and smashed them out of the air with a single, solid swing of its tail. The sickening crack of metal-on-metal contact resounded throughout the cave and probably reverberated up into the Trench as all three of the front-runners flew through the air, like flies swatted away by a human hand, and collided with the cave wall. They bounced off of it and collapsed in a heap on the floor, stunned momentarily but probably not out of the fight just yet. Aggron waded into the crowd and batted at the rest of the group with virtually every move in its arsenal: its claw swipes, tail swings, and head-butts scattered the group across the space of the cave in a matter of seconds.

We made it to the heater-plows without suffering any injuries, and cut the cables holding our tents to them. If we made it out of this, the plows would serve as a good enough resting place for us. We then piled into the massive machines, one Gethenian and one human each, and started the engines. The machines roared to life, and we directed them to the mouth of the cave as quickly as we possibly could. As we approached our salvation, we could feel vibrations bouncing off the machine from where the Lairon slammed into them, but shortly thereafter, we would hear the same Lairon be smashed back by Aggron’s attacks. It seemed like an eternity before we made it to the mouth of the cave and sped out into the open air of the bottom of the incline. I looked back at the mouth of the cave to see Aggron standing with its back to us, spreading its arms wide to prevent anything else from leaving. If the Lairon got too close, it would beat them back with another powerful wave of attacks.

I knew the brevity of the situation. I knew that, if Aggron was to hesitate for even a moment, it could lose its advantage, and we would be lost to a stampede of Lairon overtaking our plows. But I had to know the truth. I reached out to it in my mind, not thinking about the fact that I might not receive an answer back.

Why? I asked in thought-speak. Why save us from the storm, or from the Lairon? What purpose do we serve to you? There was a long pause. I hoped, beyond hope, that the void would be filled with a response, an explanation, anything. Then, in a voice that was undoubtedly male and completely foreign to me, I heard it answer.

Some things, you question. Other things, you simply do.

…

We have made it out of the Trench now, without resting for the past several hours, and are climbing the incline to get back to the top of the glacier. The winds of the storm have moved on and died down, and there is a light snow falling. I have no doubt that everyone is troubled by the developments earlier; indeed, both Ensus and Nirm are likely in dothe right now, to overcome their sexual drives and to keep themselves focused on driving the heater-plows.

I am too tired to think on this matter now. Once we are a safe distance away from the Trench and capable of resting, I will consider what Aggron said. For now, I am content in knowing what he did.

He saved our lives.

---

Obberny Kus.

We gave him a chance. We believed in him, in a circumstance where nobody else would. And he repaid us for it by considering us to be one of his own.

What Aggron did when he was in the basic form of his evolutionary stage goes totally against the expectations that we have of his species. It goes against the cycle that he was supposed to grow up learning. By digging his way out of the caves of Drumner, he sealed himself a cold fate on the Ice, where no food source exists to satiate him under normal circumstances. And yet, in this case, there was a food source, and he was caught taking advantage of it, but not punished for doing so.

I think that changed him. He started to question our act of compassion, though we didn’t know it was considered as such at the time. He wanted to understand it, and so grew strong on the minerals of Drumner’s volcanic basin in the hopes of meeting us again. When he evolved, he was subjected to the changes in his behavior based on the newly-instilled spirit of competition, but instead of using them purely to suit his individual needs, he incorporated it into his character, and it drove him to pursue his goals further. He linked compassion with mastery over one’s environment, and thus, set out to become the master of his own destiny. And that is why he evolved into an Aggron, and was chosen as a candidate for ruling over Drumner.

We instilled within him the spirit that he would need to become a strong leader, and he gave us answers to questions we didn’t even know we had, not just about his species, but about all Pokémon in the known universe. I will never know if he survived the fight with his competitors, but at the very least, I hope that these journal entries will serve to honor his memory, and the things he did for us.

I believe I owe my crew an apology. I respected Lang for her expertise previously, but I did not respect the field of her expertise. This journey has shown me that it has a significant deal of merit, and can stand alongside biological explanations to give a clearer picture of the exact explanation for a natural phenomenon. In addition, I feel as though I was seeing Ensus, Nirm, Gethero, and Maxa for what they are, rather than who they are, before we came up here on the Ice. There is so much more to them than just what their Gethenian biology allows them to be; in their own right, they are brilliant scientists, and they will be the pioneers that lead their kind to further their advancement of knowledge in all fields, including the sciences. To that end, the Envoys have succeeded in their mission on Winter.

We will be back at the Gobrin base in around a month’s time. At that point, all of the data we have collected will be amassed and deduced to form conclusions about the nature of life up here on the Ice. As it turns out, the Gobrin has quite a story to tell.

---

>> END PLAYBACK

---

Odorny Anner.

This is my first writing for this log in eight months, give or take a day. It will not be empirical, so feel free to discard it from the report if you find that it does not hold any scientific merit or pertinence.

We arrived home to the Gobrin base safely, and almost immediately, we were set to work helping the other scientists with the data sets that they would create for the report. They didn’t mind listening to us recount our tale up on the Ice, either.

There is still much work to do to make this information publicly available, but for now, we are resting on our laurels. Ensus, Nirm, Lang, and I have taken a vacation from the freezing temperatures of the base in the wintertime to visit Gethero and Maxa in Orgoreyn. They just recently gave birth to the child that they conceived when we were up on the Ice; they named him Amayule, a Terran name meaning “the end of winter”. It is both a fitting and beautiful name, and I wish them the best of luck with him.

I still think about our journey every now and then, even when I am not working with the data we gathered therein. I think about spelunking in the caves and carving an access route to Drumner and Dremegole across the Ice. I think about the people that I thought I knew when we first set out, but met truly for the first time through direct experience with them in our time together. And of course, I think about Aggron, and wonder if he ever became what he deserved to be to his species.

…

On Winter, cold is a constant, but so too is warmth, emanating from the various means by which we all survive in its harsh conditions. It shapes us and embraces us, molding us into the people we are now and will become in the future. I see that truth now, far clearer than ever before.

If there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I can’t wait to get back up onto the Icecaps again. It has become a part of me now, and I don’t think I shall ever let it go.

---
 ]]> Stories Neighborhood-Guest http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/crucible-%5Bwar%5D-151175/ <![CDATA[Negative Spirit [Write-a-Roll]]]> http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/negative-spirit-%5Bwrite-roll%5D-150835/ Tue, 14 May 2013 20:05:57 GMT Author's note: This is a very interesting set up for my story to be based off of. I like the Genre and the Setting. The Character caught me off guard but hey that's ok. That just makes it interesting. As a brand new writer. Hope I do well.

Genre: Mystery
Setting: Region: Hoenn
Character: ???
Pokemon Reward I'm after: Eevee
Secondary Optional Rewards I'm after: Fire, Water, or Thunder Stone

- - -

There were times where I thought I had experienced the worst day ever. Those times were unpleasant and I sobbed for hours to pass. I remember each time I stopped sobbing when those days came and left. Ya, I felt better like everyone does eventually. Honestly tho, it does not matter. The second you stop crying, you have some horrible event, jumping on your ass ready to make your life a living hell. At least, that is how I feel when it happens to me. I know now that those days where I thought I would be better dead, was no where near the experience I am feeling now.

You want to know why? You want to know why none of those days matter anymore? Well it's because I am dead. That's right. You thought I was making a joke when I said (I would rather be dead.) Well I was not making a joke. I am a fool for thinking that I would better off be dead. I am floating over my dead pokemon body right now. That's right, I am a ghost, a spirit, whatever you want to call it, I am no longer apart of the world of the living. The foolish young eevee that now lies their dead was once me you know. If you have not figured that out by now, now you know. There is no more comparing, no more guessing, no more possibles. I am dead, and nothing I think or do will change that. My worst day ever. You want to know what day that truly is? The day where I know I cannot experience any worst days? It is this day. The day I died.

I suppose sobbing over my death is not the best thing to do right now. I have better things to do. I need revenge. Why revenge you ask? Because my body told me so. My body is missing a huge chunk of my flesh and bones; out from the side of my stomach. I was murdered. There is no other possibly on what could have happen. The sad part is, I don't know what or who killing me. I was killed in my sleep. Who does such a horrible thing? Well that's what I want to find out. Who is my killer?

You can consider me a live broadcast, if you will. I am telling you what I see at this very moment. That's what live broadcasts are if you didn't know. As I was floating around, telling you my story so far, I believe I got the hang of this flying business. That's good because I have to move somehow if I am going to find who killed me. But where do I start? I don't know but I better think of something. Umm? I suppose I should look closer to my dead body. Ya, maybe if I look closer, I can figure out the size of this giant hole ripped out of me. It's very big I can tell you that. I can see possible bite marks but have no clue how to measure them. Wait a minute. There are bite marks, and their pretty big. There is no way a human could do this.

It must be a pokemon you killed me. But if that is true, then that pokemon could vary from a houndoom, all the way up to something like a Arcanine. There is no way to be certain. Wow wait, I just found something. Is... is that a foot print? There is no way that is a footprint. The surface of this mountain is just to hard to see any type of footprint. Even from a pokemon the size of a Snorlax, cannot penetrate such a hard surface. Then again what I see must be a footprint. There is no mistaking it. I can totally tell that I have seen this footprint before.

I just can't recall which pokemon has footprints like this. Could it be me? I mean, I am a spirit after all. Could I have some special ghostly powers that allows me to see the hidden? Never mind that, it's best to follow them.

I have been following these prints for hours now. Mt. Prye is defiantly a huge mountain, I am still going down it. In case your wondering, I went up Mt. Pyre the day before I died because I hear rumors that somewhere in the mountain, there are loads of stones. Not just any stones, but evolution stones. Ever since I was a baby eevee, I wished to evolve. I didn't care what I evolved into, as long as I evolved, I would show my parents, and they would see how much of a big girl I have become.

Sorry, I lost track of what I was doing. Now where was I? Hold it. What a stroke of luck. You won't believe what I just found. I just found a houndoom. Ooo ya, these are defiantly his tracks. That son of a bitch. If I could hold get my paws on you, I would rip you apa... Wait a minute. He looks sad. He is trying to talk to someone. Lets listen in.

"I was to late." The houndoom says this sobbing. "I can't believe they got to her before me. Poor eevee, I am so sorry. I am so sorry I could not reach you in time. What kinda friend I'm I? I should of warned her. How could I be so stupid? Telling her the rumors of those stones and forgetting to tell her of the dangers as well. I might as well be the murder. I lead my best friend to her death. I don't deserve to live."

(Back to the eevee)

Omg that's Rick. How did I not notice? I'm starting to cry if you guys don't know. If you could see me right now from the world of the dead, my face is soaked. I can't believe I thought my best friend killed me for a second. If he did not kill me, then who did? Rick is walking off. Rick wait! Please wait! What's the use? He can't hear me. Man what do I do now? I am out of options here.

(Near eevee, hiding behind a rock.)

"What are we waiting for? Let's kill him." A Rapidash said. "Sit down you fool, we can't let him see us or else he will run and warn the public sooner than expected. Let the fool walk his way to town. We will get him but not by a rush." A Dragonnite said. The Rapidash replies. "I hate waiting around. But find, we will do it your way."

(Back to the eevee)

What is that noise. There are two pokemon. A Rapidash and a Dragonnite. What! I can't believe what I just heard. They are plotting to kill Rick. Those monsters. They are the ones who killed me. I bet it was the dragonnite who bit into me. That bastard. I got to warn Rick.

I flew over to Rick and he can't here me. I keep on trying but nothing is working. Gone dammit Rick, Run! If you don't run now they will sneak on you and murder you. Please, hear me. if you can hear me, do this for me. Do this for your best friend. Ya ya, sorry about that. Rick just scared the hell out of me. He just took off so fast down the road. He must have heard me. I am going to follow him.

He is taking off on route 122. Man he is fast. How the hell did he even get to Mt. Pyre now that I am thinking of it. Mt. Pyre is locked, surrounded by water. A fire type pokemon like him should have never been able to swim over here like I did. There is just no way.

Forget it, Rick is very strong and smart. He can take care of himself. I should probably focus on my killers. I flew little bit away and found them. They look out of breath. Good, I hope they get a heart attack those monsters. There speaking again. Let me pitch in.

(Back to Rapidash and Dragonnite)

"What the hell happened? How did he see us, we were behind every rock and tree and we were at least a mile away? Plus, the wind was blowing our way. There is no way he can smell us either. Dragonnite how?" Rapidash complains. "Shut it you. I don't know how he knew but if he tells anyone that our master killed that poor girl, then we will be his next meal so I suggest you keep it cool, and hunt that bastard down. It's what you wanted anyways, to rush him. Well your chance to do so is now so go, I will try to keep up.

(Back to the eevee)

WHAT? They are not my killers. There master is. Well shit, who is their master? I thought I solved this mystery already.

"Not quiet girl but I can tell you where to go" A unknown voice speaks.

"What the, whoooo theee hellll areee you." Eevee asks.

"I am the one who brings the dead to where they belong, the Spirit World. However I cannot do so until my current victim is satisfied. For that to happen in your case is for you to find out who killed you I'm I correct? The mysterious one asks.

Eevee shakes and trembles by the sound of this person's voice. "That's incorrect. I don't want to just know my killer, I want him to die as well. He deserves it." Eevee says.

"I cannot control the will of death my child. I only show the dead the correct path to take and right now you are drifting away from that path. I suggest you get your pitiful revenge settled and then come back to me. I will be waiting on top of Mt. Pyre, where your killer awaits." The mysterious one says as he disappears.

"Whatever dude. I am going to make sure my killer dies before you take me to whatever god forsaken place you spoke of." Eevee shouts up at the sky.

Looks like I am heading up towards Mt. Pyre guys. Hopefully my journey as a ghost comes to a close soon.

I have reached the top and I see my killer. He is a Garchomp and boy does he look vicious. His mouth defiantly fits perfectly along by dead body's corpse. This small mystery has come to a close. Now all that is left is for him to die. How I do that has a ghost I have no clue.

"My child, forget about him. You cannot kill him. It is pointless. Let your anger go." The mysterious one says.

"You again. Look, I am not going anywhere until I see him dead. Eevee replies.

"Then you will be waiting for several years to come. By then you will be stuck as a ghost forever, roaming this earth wishing you could be apart of it again. Don't throw your life away. I can give you a new one. I can replace your life in a new body with no memory's. Start life over. You can't possibly turn that down can you?" The mysterious one says.

Eevee takes in his words as guild lines of a new life. His words were like magic. Erasing the pain and sorrow out of eevee's mind, purifying her.

"I feel nothing. I feel the pain washing away. What did you do to me?" Eevee asks.

"You don't feel nothing. You feel relived. Your personalty is dense and closed. Your very negative and don't like to show the happy times. You only look back at the worse time of your life.
Be free of it. Be free my child." The mysterious one says.

Eevee gives in to his words. He was right. She always looked at the negatives and never the good. She does not even realize that other pokemon love her and would still love her if they knew of her passing.

"Fine whatever. Take me to this other world you spoke of. Give me a new life. I am sick of living life this. Take me away." Eevee says giving in.

"You made the right choice my child. May you be at peace." The mysterious one says.

And that is how my little adventurer ends. With my mind drifting away, I begin a long sleep. Hoping to awake in a new body, ready to tackle the world with a positive attitude and bring happiness to those I met. May the harshness of the world one day begone, never to be seen again. ]]> Stories Eeveeforthebest http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/negative-spirit-%5Bwrite-roll%5D-150835/ A Magnetic Attraction http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/magnetic-attraction-150774/ Mon, 13 May 2013 06:59:47 GMT



The countryside flashed by as Axion attempted to relax in his seat within Goldenrod's magnet train. While it was designed to provide comfort during the ride, he was continually shifting in his seat. Grassy fields and the occasional tree were visible for an instant in the window before being replaced with a slightly different variation of the same theme. Shifting the ponytails of his long, light brown hair out of the way and placing his backpack on the floor, he attempted to lay down along the bench seat. His gray jacket bunched up beneath him, only furthering his discomfort. The other passengers paid him little notice, each attending to their own comfort. He pulled out his Pokegear, attempting to review the plan before the train arrived in Saffron City. On the screen, the image of Magnemite appeared, its magnets slowly rotating in the picture. This was his target, and soon his months of planning would come to fruition.

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


Axion stepped into the harsh sunlight of Saffron City, standing still while his eyes adjusted. It was not small by any means, but Saffron seemed smaller, quieter than the city he had left hours ago. People on leisurely walks, kids quietly playing in the yards, the flowers just starting to bloom in the mild April weather. If it had been near the seaside, it might have made him feel at home, resembling Olivine City in its laid back demeanor.

The Pokemon Center was his first stop. As always, Nurse Joy stood by the front counter, with her eternal smile shining bright. “Welcome to the Pokemon center,” she beamed. “How can I assist you today?”
Axion gave her a slight smile. “I'm actually wondering if there are any buses to Cerulean City, or the Power Plant if that is an option.”
She thought for a moment, then sighed. “I'm so sorry, the last one left an hour ago. We wont have any more for another three days. But you are welcome to wait here if you want.”
Shaking his head, Axion replied “No, I'll just head there on foot. My thanks though.” Without further discussion, Axion departed from the center, the doors silently sliding open for his exit.

After asking a nearby couple for directions to the Poke Mart, Axion made the short trip to the small, blue-roofed structure. The clerk, black hair somewhat unkempt from sitting at the counter all day, momentarily peered at him through thick black glasses before returning to his crossword. Silently, Axion selected a few great balls, food, and some paralysis and health potions as a precaution. The clerk lazily looked over the stock before uttering only a “$5,600 please.” Axion silently complied, handing over the requested amount, then loading his already overstuffed pack with the additional supplies.

Route 5 lay ahead, the long yet noticeable incline appearing to be an overly large annoyance to Axion. Feeling somewhat lonely, he removed the lone pokeball from his belt, and threw it, yelling “Scyther, lets go!” As the ball opened, the red light and energy slowly coalesced into a mantis-like being, with a vaguely reptilian head. “Scyther” it said as Axion's companion finally shook himself and spread his wings and reveled in his freedom. “Sorry bud. Didn't want to bring you out on the train, you would have been overly bored and cramped.” The enormous bug failed to give any vocal reply, but a swift nod provided acceptance of Axion's reasoning. The two set off walking up the slope towards Cerulean City, the vaguest of bumps in the distance.

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


Axion sat in the mess hall of the Cerulean City Pokemon Center. It was almost entirely empty, only two other scattered trainers seated with their Pokemon, all eating in relative silence. The male trainer seated closest to the food was gorging himself, making a mess of his jacket and hands. His Snorlax and Gulpin were eating in a similar fashion, the two bulbous pokemon devouring their bowls almost as fast as their master. The girl was much more refined, her Squirtle picking and choosing the best morsels from its plate. She appeared quite young, likely having just started her journey from one of the surrounding cities. Axion merely finished his rice, and made sure Scyther was adequately fed with the available pokemon food. The pair quietly gathered their possessions from the sparsely furnished shared sleeping quarters before heading into the empty lobby, and then exiting into the morning sunrise. It was still early, the sunlight closer to red than the later white-yellow. The pair had arrived in Cerulean City rather late, and Axion had little desire to camp out when a perfectly good Pokemon Center was nearby. Setting out early was his preferred strategy, he had a pokemon to find.

The river following Route 10 offered up a pleasant sound to Axion as he traversed the road toward the power plant. A few trainer had attempted to battle him, but he had politely refused, despite their demands to the contrary. A few Rattata and Venonat frolicked in the surrounding grass, however Axion ignored them. As a shadow passed over the path in front of him, he looked up; a Fearow was slowly circling the area. As he returned his view to the road ahead, a shriek startled him. From his side, a Venomoth flew into him, the Fearow's dive in an identical path. As Venomoth's momentum carried him into the river, he quickly grabbed for Scyther's pokeball. His backpack had fallen off, and was now floating downstream. “No!” he yelled in vain. Quickly returning to shore, the poke ball in his hand flew forth, and Scyther appeared. Slightly confused at why Axion was wet, Scyther gave him a quick “Scy-” before Axion cut him off. “My backpack's floating downstream. See if you can catch it!” Immediately, the bug took to the air, using its far superior speed to outpace Axion. Running, he watched as both his equipment and only pokemon traveling rapidly downstream.

When Axion finally caught up to his companion, the large green insect was not alone. A Squirtle was seated next to him, its brown shell and leathery blue skin wet as if from a recent swim. Axion's pack, apparently still intact and sealed, sat next to the smaller of the pair. As he got closer, he could vaguely hear the two conversing, but could only guess at the actual topic. From the path behind him, he heard a feminine voice. “Squirtle, there you are!” As he turned around, Axion recognized the girl from the Pokemon Center. “And I see you've made a friend.” The girl was smiling, her hands wiping away the slightest of tears. She was cute, the blond hair framing a young yet eager face. Very common for a trainer, she had on close-fitting pants and a shirt, covered with a light jacket. “So whats your name” she asked inquisitively.
“I am Axion, a trainer from Olivine City. And you are?”
She gave another smile. “I'm Tiffany from Viridian City. I was on my way to Lavender town, but my little Squirtle here wanted to take a swim. He ended up a little farther downstream than expected. I almost thought he'd gotten swept away. “
“Apparently his misadventure was quite helpful in the end, as your Squirtle managed to procure my missing backpack for me. I am quite thankful for this, as it contains some rather unique components, and I would be hard pressed to replace them. So for this, it seems I am in your Squirtle's debt.”
A peal of laughter like tinkling bells echoed across the valley. “I doubt Squirtle will ever cash in on that, but I'm sure Squirtle was just happy to help. Isn't that right, Squirt?”
“Squirtle squirtle!” came the enthusiastic reply.
“See? Everything worked out here. Anyway, why are you all the way out here? This area doesn't really have anything notable, does it?”
Axion nodded. “For most people, this is just an out of the way route. But I'm going after a specific pokemon. From my research, the power plant at the end of this route keeps a steady supply of them around.”
Tiffany's face gave a quizzical look. “What pokemon is that?”
With a smile on his face, Axion looked towards his eventual destination. “Magnemite.”

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


The power plant was a large mechanical monster, built almost directly into the rock wall beside it. From where Axion and Scyther stood, the tall stacks of the facility blew very faint smoke, and heat waves radiated from above the rooftop. The sound of machinery whirring and buzzing drafted across the grassy field. However, Axion was quite content to be reasonably far away. Sitting down in a relatively clear area, he pulled out a small sandwich he had packed, and drug out a small can of pokemon food for Scyther. The pair ate greedily, savoring the small morsels as the sun sat overhead. After both had satisfied their hunger, Axion set to work on assembling the small electromagnetic field generator that had been carefully stored in his backpack. After checking twice to make sure that the device had been correctly assembled, he sat down for a moment. The device in front of him was about 2 feet tall, and was shaped in the approximate silhouette of a mushroom. Around the outer circumference of what would be considered the cap, 4 small antennas were arrayed equally. A cable at the base of the stack connected to a miniature electric crank generator. “Ready bud?” Axion asked Scyther, who was distractedly looking off into the distance at the mountains. A confirming “Scyther” was all he needed to hear. With a muted whirr sound, the hand crank began turning, and Axion could hear the very faint crackles emanating from the static rods. Now came the wait.

Five minutes passed, then ten. Axion took a short break to take a drink of water as well as rest his slowly tiring arm muscles. Scyther walked around, restless and somewhat affected by the small electromagnetic field he was generating. As the sun started to drop, Axion resumed powering the small generator, hoping for the best. As the sun's edge nicked the mountain's crest, Axion's face contorted into something resembling disappointment, almost sadness. His arm, now almost hanging limply from the day's hard exertions, wobbled about as he stood up. Motioning to his pokemon, the two worked on setting up his tent before it became too dark to operate. A small camp stove, once removed from the backpack, provided warm soup for both Axion and Scyther, the beverage both refreshing and relaxing them. The pair then laid down, and stared at the stars that slowly came out, obscured by the rare straggling cloud. After an indeterminate time, Scyther returned to his poke ball for a nap, and Axion climbed into his small yet cozy tent. The sleeping bag wrapped around him like a warm cocoon as he slowly drifted to sleep.

As Axion slowly woke from his slumber, he heard something like the faintest of hums surrounding his tent. Creeping almost in-perceptively, he grabbed a flashlight and poked his head out from the tent in order to see the disturbance. The setting half-moon cast a dim light across most of the valley, reflecting off the metal spheres floating through the small campsite. He silently reached for Scyther's poke ball. As he launched from his hidden position, he rapidly called out “Scyther, lets go! Double team now, coral them in!” As Scyther materialized, multiple copies of itself quickly surrounded the amassed Magnemite. The Magnemite, momentarily confused, flew around in circles and attempted to break free. “Now Scyther, X-Scissor on one of them!” As the copies all raised their now-glowing front claws, the numerous Magnemites began to rapidly spin their protruding magnets. Small jolts appeared from the poles, and the duplicates rapidly decreased in number. As what Axion assumed to be the real Scyther struck a Magnemite, a jolt hit him. Instantly the rest of the Magnemite took the opportunity to flee, one fell to the ground momentarily, taken aback by Scyther's direct hit.

Scyther, on the other hand was currently showing extreme pain as he tried to move. The small floating robot, having recovered from the hit, began rapidly spinning, apparently charging power. “Scyther, try and use quick attack to get behind the generator!” Despite Scyther's obvious paralysis, the insect very rapidly managed to move itself behind the small electrical device before collapsing. The instant he ended his travel, Magnemite released a powerful thunderbolt. But instead of hitting Scyther, the electricity was redirected and absorbed by the four conducting rods. Magnemite continued its discharge in an attempt to reach his opponent, however the machine effectively continued to act as a ground and melting all the while. . The discharge finally ended, and the device had been reduced to molten fused slag, but Scyther was more or less no worse for wear. Magnemite seemed to be floating lower to the ground now. Shifting position, a piercing wave of sound arced toward Scyther. “Use razor wind to counter sonic boom!” Axion yelled, barely audible over the now almost solid wave of sound energy. Scyther's wings began to buzz, resembling the sound of a motor, and the rapidly condensed air impacted with a roar as the sound wave dissolved into relative silence.

Scyther's paralysis decided to kick in at this moment, and its entire body locked up, forcing him to fall to the ground. Noticing this, Magnemite began to hover forward. As the opponent began the trek towards him, Scyther slowly stood up, a permanent grimace on his face accentuated by ticks of pure torture. A glow appeared in front of the one-eyed pokemon, a yellow ball that became larger as Magnemite pulled its last reserves of energy for a final strike. As the ball reached its apex, a massive vortex of electrical energy, Axion looked directly at Scyther. “Vacuum wave, I believe in you!” With obvious pain, Scyther's eyes blazed with confidence. His claws moved rapidly in circles, creating a space free of air. The offensive moved launched as Magnemite's electro ball shot towards its intended target. As the attacks met, the swirling mass of electricity flared, and continued on as vacuum wave struck its target. Magnemite, having almost no energy, was struck by the full impact, falling to the ground. Axion watched in horror as electro ball enveloped Scyther. For a moment, there was only the light and radiant energy releasing in coruscating waves over Scyther. As it finally subsided, Axion looked in awe as Scyther somehow remained conscious. “We did it Scyther!” He ran over to his friend, giving him a health potion and parlyz heal to ensure his wounds. As Axion turned around, he saw the wobble in the grass of the Magnemite. Determined, he chose a great ball, and tossed it towards the small sphere. Both Axion and Scyther watched as the ball wobbled once, twice. Click. ]]> Stories Axion http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/magnetic-attraction-150774/ <![CDATA[Biography of Allen Kristoffson [WaR]]]> http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/biography-allen-kristoffson-%5Bwar%5D-150679/ Fri, 10 May 2013 11:26:34 GMT *Story Statistics:* Target Pokemon: Frillish (Hard) Target Length: 20k - 30k Actual Length: About 33.5k *WaR Rolls:* Genre: Other Time Period / Setting: Alternate Universe Characters: Human Main Story Statistics:
Target Pokemon: Frillish (Hard)
Target Length: 20k - 30k
Actual Length: About 33.5k

WaR Rolls:
Genre: Other
Time Period / Setting: Alternate Universe
Characters: Human Main

There is a slight discussion about how my rolls pertain to my story below, in a spoiler. Oh, and probably an M rating on this I guess, semi-frequent coarse language.

Biography of Allen Kristoffson

We all know of Allen Kristoffson, the man who led the charge against the scourge of the world – the deadly supernatural Pokemon beasts. He is widely credited as one of the most important and well-known individuals to ever walk the Earth, often put on par with the like of Albert Einstein, Princess Diana and Jesus Christ. Unfortunately, there is little information on this most enigmatic of people. Due to the strife into which he was born, there was precious little communication between nations, and most of the paperwork of which the bureaucrats are so fond has been lost or destroyed. What follows is some of what I have managed to piece together from my travels around the globe, and hopefully enough of Kristoffson's tale is captured so that we might forever remember the man who put an end to the Pokemon hordes.

Birth Certificate, circa 1977, eastern Romania

One of the few pieces of official documentation regarding Allen Kristoffson that remains intact is his birth certificate. Allen Kristoffson was born Allen Antai Vladmir in the port town of Magadan, on the eastern fringe of what was the Soviet Union (Russia) on the seventh of October, 1977. His father was named Kristoff Suvkhun Vladmir and his mother was named Anna Vraikou Vladmir. His birth certificate claims that he was nine pounds and seven ounces at the time of delivery, as well as one foot and 9 inches in length. This would mean that he was slightly above the average size, although not enough to be of note.

It is interesting to note that Kristoff Vladmir listed his occupation on the birth certificate as a “scientist”. Kristoff did not let his occupation be widely known, for good reasons that we will explore shortly.

The birth certificate was kept in the Magadan General Hospital file room. It would be left untouched for years in a file cabinet. The filing room was one of the few that survived the initial Pokemon attack on Magadan. Years later, a group of scavengers would find the room and stumble upon the birth certificate. The year of this event is unknown, but it was late enough for Kristoffson to be world-famous, because the certificate was taken as a trophy and traded between scavenger groups for food and tools. Eventually the birth certificate was bought by a warlord in eastern Romania for the price of two ruby rings and it remains in his treasure room to this day.

Interview with Alexei Cvkrai, present day (translated from Russian), New Magadan.

Greetings, Mr Cvkrai.

Come in out of the cold now, young one. The village is quite safe, but let us not push our luck, yes? Especially in the dark.

[Cvkrai ushers me inside and we take a seat at his table. He lights a match and looks at me expectantly.]

You claim to have known Allen Kristoffson in his youth, correct?

Indeed! Many claim I am lying, but I assure you I am not. I was living three houses down from the Vladmirs when they brought young Allen home from the hospital. It had not been an easy birth. Indeed, the doctors had feared that Anna might lose her life giving birth to the child.

And yet she did not.

No, and everyone was happy to hear it. Anna Vladmir was a pillar of the community. She was always happy and smiling and willing to listen to anyone's grievances. Her blonde hair was always particularly beautiful, I thought...

[Cvkrai seems to stare off into space.]

What kind of child was Allen Kristoffson?

Much like any other child, I suppose. He cried a lot to begin with. If Anna hadn't been so beloved I imagine there would have been quite a few more complaints than there were. It only got worse for poor Anna from there – when young Allen learned to crawl and walk he never stayed still. He was always climbing the furniture or walking out onto the street!

Did you ever have any direct contact with Kristoffson?

The first time I met him was when he found his way into my front garden. It was snowing, I remember, and he was wrapped up in a thick jumper as well as a hat with a bauble on top. Allen was a cheeky one – he picked up handfuls of snow and threw them at my house, just to hear the sound they made. Each time I would hear a crash and then a piercing giggle. I watched him from the window for a time, and even from inside I could see the piercing blue colour of his eyes.

Did anything ever strike you as strange about him?

Not at all. He was very much the average child. No one along the street would have guessed what he would grow up to become.

What did you hear about the Vladmirs moving?

Precious little. I had been close to the Vladmirs – closer than most of the community – and so one day they came to my door. They told me that they were going away and would not be coming back. I asked them why, and none would say. Anna looked like she had been crying. Kristoff said that he would try to warn me if the United States ever planned to attack Magadan and then left without another word. The community decided that Kristoff had gotten tired of living in the snow, but I always thought that something more was at stake.

And you never heard from any of them again.

Indeed. I heard of Allen Kristoffson, like the whole world did, but it was not until I saw a photograph that I recognised this legendary figure as little Allen Vladmir, the boy who lived down the road.

Thank you for your time, Mr Cvkrai.

My pleasure. Do not tarry on your way home, young one – there are still some Pikachu in the area.

Interview with Ben Anthony, present day, Cadillac, Michigan.

[Anthony sees me approach from his front porch. He immediately grabs a shotgun off of his table.]

You aint one of them Pokemon-loving freaks, are ya?

No sir, I am not. I'm the researcher who spoke to you over the phone.

Ah, that's right. Wanting to learn all about that Kristoffson feller. Well, ye've come to the right place. I'm the guy who gave the go-ahead on Vladmir's defection.

Kristoff's father, right? What's the story behind that?

That ain't any of yer business, yung'un. All you need to know is that Kristoff Vladmir was high in the Soviet R&D department and he offered to switch sides in exchange for amnesty for him and his family. We brought him over on secret in a small boat, and the tech advancements he gave us kept the US ahead for the rest of the Cold War.

Did you ever have contact with Allen?

I was at the dock to greet the family when they arrived. He seemed like any other defectee child – tired, confused and scared. I put them in a taxi and that was the last I ever saw of them. I only handled defectee transport – when they stepped onto land they were someone else's problem. The next time I heard of Allen Vladmir he'd changed his name to Allen Kristoffson and was causin' all kinds of trouble for those fuckin' beasts.

Thank you for your time, sir.

Yer welcome. Now get going, I ain't got time to shoot the breeze with ya.

Year 7 report card, circa 1990, PHO Head Office, California

The year 7 report card given to Kristoffson's family was found in their house after the Pokemon Crisis. It survived being destroyed or looted because it had slipped behind a cabinet in the study room. It is slightly charred and ripped but has survived relatively intact. It can be found today at the head office of the Pokemon History Organisation. Below is a transcript of the report card.

English: B. For a second-language English speaker, Allen is first-rate. He can conjugate verbs and use punctuation correctly nine-tenths of the time. His accent can occasionally get in the way but he has made great progress.

Mathematics: A. Allen shows great proficiency in the field of mathematics. He has mastered the use of the quadratic formula and advanced algebra, way above the required standard. I am recommending him for the advanced class next year.

Science: A. I am pleased with Allen's quick understanding of the many different fields of science. He particularly enjoyed physics, although he did almost as well in biology and was very much above a pass-grade in chemistry. He has an analytical mind that allows him to observe and deduce much about his subjects of study.

Physical Education: B. Allen is in top physical shape and enjoys all kinds of sports, fueled by his competitive nature. His only flaw in this regard is that he will go against the orders of team captains if he doesn't agree with them. At this level, this is not a problem, but he will need to learn to respect authority in high school.

Art: C. Allen does what is required in this course but no more. His paintings are all very strange and they feature Russian writing prominently. For his final project he sculpted a large erect penis and refused to submit anything else.

History: B. Allen is knowledgeable on world history, especially modern European history. He was fascinated by the subject of World War II in particular.

Technology Systems: B. Despite some initial reluctance to use the woodworking facilities, Allen has developed into a capable young youth. He crafted an impressive looking wooden sword during the first term. In the second term, he quickly mastered the use of the school computer, although he says he prefers to work on paper.

Comments: Allen is a model student, marred only by occasional stubborn streaks. He appears to have no close friends, although he is quite well-liked by most of the children and is welcome in the schoolyard games that they play.

Interview with Ellen Cooper, present day.

Greeting, ma'am. I'm the one who spoke to you over the phone.

Oh that's right, the reporter working on the Allen Vladmir book. Come in, come in.

[She ushers me inside.]

Mrs. Cooper, you just called him by his birth name, Allen Vladmir. Is there a reason you don't refer to him as Allen Kristoffson?

Not really, I suppose. Whenever I think of the hero that saved us all, I don't think of a smart young man in a lab or a soldier fighting on a battlefield, I think of him in the way I first met him – a young teenager in a hospital waiting room. Scared and with red eyes, like he'd just finished crying. He and his father were waiting on the results of Anna's surgery. I was one of the attending nurses, and I was there when the surgeon told them that she didn't make it.

Why was Anna Vladmir having surgery?

According to Kristoff they had been having dinner when Anna suddenly collapsed. They rushed her to our hospital and we took her into the emergency surgery at once. We soon found out that a blood clot had moved up into her brain. Sadly, there was nothing we could do to save her, it's just one of those things. I'm not sure why a young woman like her had a blood clot – just bad luck, I guess.

What was Allen's reaction?

It was one I didn't see very often. Initially he refused to believe us, despite his father breaking down into racking sobs. He thought it was some kind of trick or that she was just faking. Allen refused to go anywhere until he saw his mother. He sat down cross-legged on the floor and did not budge. His father tried everything from bribing him with candy to yelling at him to forcibly pulling on his arm. In the end we escorted him into the surgery. His mother was covered by a white cloth that exposed nothing except her face. Kristoff started crying again but Allen did not. He walked over and touched her face gently, like a child would caress a puppy. Allen turned to us and apologised for the way he had acted and then walked calmly out of the room. We were considering sending for psychiatric help but Kristoff said that it wasn't necessary.

Did you ever see Allen again?

I didn't, no. We sent a therapist around to their house a week later. I talked with him afterwards and he said that Allen seemed within acceptable standard deviations. He did note that the young man seemed driven, focused on something although he could not find out what.

Some people claim that Allen was mentally ill, and that this was in fact the reason why he persevered despite long odds. Do you agree with this?

Not at all. It was a strange reaction but one that I understood. Allen was one of those people who need to see everything for themselves. They try to control what they can and don't worry about what they can't. Maybe that was what helped him become the man he was – his personality, I mean. He definitely wasn't sick in the head or anything.

Do you think this event helped Allen become who he did?

I don't know if I'd go that far. What he did required bravery and commitment, sure, but the death of a mother doesn't really inspire that. Maybe this was the first time he ever had to stomach something and keep on going, but if anyone who had to live through a parent's death gained the strength Allen had, we would have ended the Pokemon Crisis a lot sooner than we did.

There is no more evidence of Allen's existence until after the beginning of the Pokemon crisis. Rather predictably, almost as soon as it began, communications went dead. The Internet was not widespread in the public sector and telephone connections were not nearly as robust as they should have been. People remained woefully ignorant as the Pokemon attacks spread across the entire world in a matter of days. Chronologically, the next sign we have of Allen's continued survival is a scribbled-in textbook.

Used copy of Fundamentals of Physics Extended, Seventh Edition (Halliday, Resnick, Walker) circa 1997, Pokemon Museum, Kentucky

The initial chapters of this textbook are quite normal, if slightly dog-eared. However, in the chapter on Thermodynamics, there are some scribbles in the margins. Initially, they are nothing more than vague shapes, but as the book progresses they resolve into very familiar shapes. Some feature squat quadrupeds with plants on their backs. Others were similar to birds but with long flowing tails. At the time, people would call them the drawings of a bored student, but now we recognise them as Ivysaur and Pidgeot and other Pokemon. It's not quite sure when exactly these drawings were done, but as the chapters progress into Electromagnetism and Optics the drawings become less than sketches and more like diagrams. A few of the sketches feature things like locations of innards, weak spots, and points of interest. At one point he notes that smashing a Staryu's gem blinds it. A couple of pages later he details how spraying a Magcargo with a hose will temporarily incapacitate it.

In the final chapter on Spatial Relativity, the sketches stop and Allen starts writing notes about something called “the K Project”. Unfortunately, the final pages have been ripped out, apparently in a hurry.

The textbook was apparently carried around with Allen almost wherever he went. It was found in a rucksack in a United States Air Force base, in the washroom. The backpack itself was charred but the contents were in fair condition. The textbook itself remains property of the United States Air Force, but it is on permanent loan to Pokemon History Organisation's main museum.

It is interesting to note that Allen's handwriting frequently slips into entirely capital letters, and he writes his capital Rs backwards.

Security camera footage from a food store in Anaheim, California

The following is a transcript of a video tape recorded by a security camera inside a 7/11. The camera was left running when Anaheim was evacuated and it captured the following scene towards the end of its recording session. The tape itself was automatically ejected into a safety bin, where it stayed for years until the original owner of the store returned. He quickly recognized Kristoffson (having met him a year previously) and auctioned off the tape to the highest bidder, which turned out to be the Pokemon History Organisation. The clipping of the tape showing Kristoffson can be reviewed at their main museum upon request to those aged fifteen years or older, due to its adult content.

00:00 - The store is in slight disrepair. A few items are strewn on the ground and one of the windows looking onto the street has been smashed. A half-consumed pastie lays on the microwave station, obviously discarded in haste. The camera is a still one, and apparently mounted over the cashier station. The tape is coloured but with no audio.

00:08 - Two people stumble in through the broken window. Both are men, although one is clearly older. The older male is wearing an old doctor's lab coat and carrying a pistol of some sort. The other is wearing a university jumper and jeans and carrying a fire axe. Both are wearing backpacks and seem very quiet. They quickly check the store over before moving to the refridgerators.

00:13 - The young man finds the half-eaten pastie and sniffs at it. He is promptly scolded by the older man.

01:58 - Both of the men have consumed a bottle of water and multiple packets of biscuits. They begin to stash more bottles and food packages into the bags along with bandages, batteries and matches.

02:17 - A small purple orb suddenly begins to grow in the centre of the store. It appears to have physical attributes as it knocks over shelves as it expands. The older man sees it first and gives a shout of alarm. Both men grab their bags and attempt to edge around the walls of the store, heading for the exit.

02:38 - The orb stops growing. Both men are about halfway to the exit.

02:43 - Three Pokemon emerge from the orb. Two are dog-sized bees and the other is a purple jellyfish that appears to be floating in mid-air. The older man immediately begins firing at the Pokemon, hitting one of the bees and causing it to explode into a purple mess. The younger man pushes a line of shelves over, causing a chain reaction and pinning the jellyfish temporarily.

02:55 - The younger man is attempting to ward off the bee by swinging his fire axe dangerously. The older man is firing shots at the jellyfish, which is squirming underneath the shelf and lashing out with its tendrils. The bullets appear to have minimal effect.

03:03 - The bee is knocked into a wall by a lucky hit from the axe. The jellyfish sprays a blast of water from its mouth towards the old man. He is knocked over and loses the grip on his gun.

03:06 - The bee is decapitated by the young man with his fire axe. Purple blood is now staining the edge of the axe blade.

03:08 - A huge wave of packets scatters throughout the store as the jellyfish finally throws the shelf off. It hovers into the air and grabs the older man with two of its tentacles. The younger man slashes at the tentacles, chopping them off. This causes the Pokemon to rear back in pain and drop the older man. He points towards the microwave station and they both make a run for it.

03:12 - Both of the men reach the microwave station. The old man starts fiddling with it and the younger man turns back to face the jellyfish. It looks angry now, and is approaching the pair threateningly.

03:31 - The young man is hacking at the jellyfish's tentacles, but it is moving too fast. Finally the jellyfish spits a stream of water, and it hits the axe, sending it flying away. The young man attempts to tackle the jellyfish, but strangely, he passes right through it and lands on the ground.

03:38 - The older man smashes the microwave's screen with a knife and points it at the jellyfish. He presses the ON button. This causes sparks to fly at the Pokemon, who shrieks and backs up towards the orb. It flails out with its tenacles and grabs the old man, dragging him close.

03:42 - Sparks continue to emit from the microwave, which remains in the old man's hands.The young man is stirring on the floor but appears unable to get up. The old man says something to him before stabbing the jellyfish tentacle with his knife. The jellyfish recoils back into the orb, taking the old man with it. Upon making contact with the orb, the microwave starts emitting triple the amount of sparks, which travel all over the orb. They appear to forcibly contract the orb, making it shrink.

03:56 - The sparks have shrunk the orb into the size of a marble. Over the next two seconds, the orb disappears entirely and the sparks fizzle out. The young man stares at the centre of the store and begins to cry.

05:40 - The young man gets up starts scrounging around on the floor. He picks up the bags and the gun and goes over to the microwave station. There is a scrap of paper that he picks up and reads before shoving it into his jacket pocket. He then leaves the store, his shoulders still shaking.

Interview with Cindy-lou Sharee, present day, New York City

Hey soldier, what can I interest ya in?

I'm not a client, ma'am. We talked over the phone, remember? I'm writing the book on Allen Kristoffson.

Oh, that's right. 'ang on, we'll go sit down. JAKE, I'M TAKIN' A BREAK!

[She leads us to an empty table.]

So, when did you meet Allen?

It seems like so long ago. I was in a supamahket, tryin' ta find some mornin'-after pills. I knocked some onta the ground and I immediately heard one of them red fire-breathers growl nearby. My first instinct was to freeze up but instead I dropped to the ground an' started crawlin' for the exit. Bad move, though – the beast was smart, it was waitin' at the exit. It's eyes were soul-less, what I imagined a murderer's looked like, except I guess that murderers are killin' their own kind. For all I know, these Pokemon look on us as vermin, just like we see them.

Anyway, there I was, lookin' straight at this killin' machine and it was lookin' at me. I could kinda see the fire in its eyes flare. It opened its mouth and I knew I was about ta die. I closed my eyes and heard a sound, and I thought it was all over. After a coupla seconds, though, I realised I didnae feel like fried chicken. When I opened my eyes I saw the Pokemon on the ground. Its head was completely gone, almost like it had been chopped right off. Red blood pooled out of its neck onto the ground. I gasped, looked up, and saw him there. 'E was dressed in Army fatigues and holding some sort of rifle. It didn't look like any of Daddy's hunting guns, there was some kind of bar on top of it, and a fancy-lookin' scope. 'E looked at me with these beautiful blue eyes and asked me if I was okay.

Did he introduce himself?

Of course 'e did. 'E said 'is name was Allen Kristoffson.

Not Allen Vladmir?

[She looks at me with a confused expression.]

No, Allen Kristoffson. Look, honey, I was ready to drop my skirt for this guy faster than a deer can shit 'imself. I'm pretty sure I can remember 'is name.

So what happened next?

Not what I expected. Once 'e saw I was unhurt 'e led me out of the town. We didn't see many more Pokemon, just a couple small viney things. 'E clued me in on 'ow to fight them on the way in a hushed whisper, things like shoot for the eyes, move slowly and only fight in the light. Pretty much the secon' we got to the forest 'e wished me luck and got ready to leave. Now, I didn' wannae let 'im leave - 'e was the first capable person I'd met since one of them electric zebras killed Daddy - so I invited 'im back to my farm with the same look that got me all of my boyfriends. You know, lowered face, heaving chest, big eyes, the whole deal. It didn' work on 'im, though - 'e just smiled sadly and said that 'e might look me up after 'is job was done. It kinda hurt to be turned down, so I demanded to know what was so important he couldn't waste a single night on some wild fuckin'. I didn' expect an answer, but 'e gave me one. 'E told me that 'e knew 'ow to close the holes that opened up inta whatever hellish place the Pokemon came from. That stunned me so much that when I realised I wasn't home and safe yet, 'e was gone. I called out 'is name but he didn't respond, so I just went home. Thankfully I had slipped the pills into my pocket, or else I wouldn' be workin' here today.

Did you ever see him again?

[She sighs.]

Nah, I never did. Of course, I heard about him later on, but I still think about what a pity it was that he never came back to visit me. He looked like a fantastic bang.

Interview with Andrew Scholl, present day, South Dakota

Did you ever meet Allen Kristoffson?

Oh no, I never had the privilege. Sometimes it kinda seems like half of the USA was saved by the guy and I'm the only one out. I know quite a few people who met him, if you're interested in talking to them. I don't know how much I can help you, sorry.

Actually, I'm hoping to talk with someone who knew about Kristoffson but never actually met him.

Then you're talking to the right man! I remember the first time I heard about Allen Kristoffson. Our town was very left-wing in that we didn't approve of firearms. Because of this, the Pokemon attacks hit us really hard. We called for help from the military, but so did every other town, and we were told that someone would call the mayor within the week to organise an evacuation. Two days later, a group of those flying scorpion things took out the phone lines in the area. We waited for two weeks but no one ever showed up - I figured that they tried ringing back but decided that we were probably dead when there was no tone.

Well, we weren't. We took shelter in the community centre and only went out for supplies when there were few Pokemon in the area. Slowly but surely the police ran out of ammunition and we were forced to defend ourselves with baseball bats and shields made from garbage bins. We were frequently attacked by both the flying scorpions and big grey rhinocerouses that fired huge rocks from their mouths. The town was just considering making a run for it when we got word from the next town over. Turns out that this guy called Allen Kristoffson had passed through and taught them some tricks when it came to fighting Pokemon. They told us that the rock-firing Pokemon were incredibly averse to water. The very next day we sent our best fighters to the fire station, where they found an intact fire truck. Within five hours all of the Pokemon had been driven from the down by pressured blasts from the truck's hoses. Even the huge bees and possessed eagles didn't like being sprayed. Once they were gone, we were able to repair the phone lines and spread the information.

Even though Kristoffson never visited our town, it's pretty safe to say that without him, we'd all be dead. Either from starvation or being crushed to death.

How quickly did the information spread?

I don't exactly know. Even though we could fight back now, every day was still a struggle. It wasn't until the warp holes began closing and the Pokemon attacks lessened that we had time for idle chatter again. However, once the phone lines started going back up all over the country, advice from and stories about Kristoffson were popping up all over the place. One group said he taught them to use fire against the plant-kind Pokemon. Another of the more common rumours was how he took down a whole flock of bird Pokemon with a standard police taser. The most unbelievable one was about how he took down a huge leafy dinosaur beast by luring it into a giant meat freezer and then locking it in.

What I can tell you is that the entire United States knew of him. They all told stories of how this one, brave man fought back against the menace that others could just barely resist. In some he appeared from darkness, wielding a large machine gun which which he gunned down hordes of Pokemon. In others, he used a single pistol, firing only into the beasts' weak spots. Some rare few even spoke of a fire axe that Kristoffson used as a last resort, covered in blood of all different colours.

Word of Kristoffson and his almost clinical knowledge of Pokemon and their weaknesses even spread overseas. Russia, Australia, England - lots of countries began waging war against the Pokemon using the very methods that Kristoffson taught us despite him never actually leaving the US.

So would you call him a folk hero?

He's more than that. Kristoffson is a hero of the entire world. No matter your religion, your ethnicity or your politicial beliefs, you can see Allen Kristoffson as a brave young man who refused to be cowed by the Pokemon Scourge.

Interview with Boush Kahnifer, present day, Texas

Greetings, Mr Kahnifer.

That's Sargeant Kahnifer, buddy. I'll have you know I was on the team that closed the Chicago Hole.

I know, sir. That's what I was hoping to talk to you about.

Oh right, you're that little reporter bitch. I'm being paid for this, right?

If by paid you mean I'm picking up the tab, then yes.

That'll do, princess.

[He finishes off his pint and orders another.]

I assume you want to hear about the assault. That's what everyone wants to hear about. Not how I saved an entire town single-handedly, or how I fought my way from Seattle to Chicago. But whatever, it was Kristoffson's finest moment, and I can't blame all you pacifist pukes for wanting to hear about your idol.

One day he rocks up at the military encampment just outside Chicago and demands to be let in. Of course, initially he was laughed at and told to get lost. We weren't supposed to let anyone in, because the civvies had a bad habit of trying to lift our fuel and ammunition reserves. However, he didn't let up, and once he started hollering about knowing how to close those fuckin' holes the brass let him in. No one had ever been able to close the Pokemon holes - whenever one opened, Pokemon periodically emerged from them and started fuckin' up whatever was nearby.

He went into the officers' hall and stayed there for a good four hours. I have no idea what went on in there, but when they were finally done yammering the General came out. He wasn't actually a General, but he was in charge, so that's what we called 'im.

He said to us, "We have a plan to close the huge portal in downtown Chicago. Most of you have probably heard of Allen Kristoffson. He'll be joining our assault, which will be tomorrow at 0700. Get a good sleep tonight, ladies, because tomorrow there'll be some serious fucking-up to do."

Of course, we were pleased to hear that, and there wasn't much sleeping that night. The next day, we were still quite rowdy, but of course that died down out in the field. Even on the outskirts of the city there were roaming Pokemon. Those little yellow electric fucks were always huge ass-pains to kill - they were fast and their shocks hurt like my crack-whore wife's alimony cheques. They were only the tip of the 'berg, though. We got into the city, still in formation, and the big bastards started comin' out. Those huge ones with flowers on their backs, and the rock-snakes, and huge moths that spat fire.

One thing I will say about Kristoffson is he knew how to fight. He was up in the front lines like me, wielding a big M400 tac rifle and spraying bullets at everything that moved. When he ran out of ammo, he jacked open a fire hydrant and sprayed the rock-snakes, which they didn't like because they fled in terror. He even pried apart a few bug bastards with his fire axe. The entire time he never flinched, even when he was being burnt or sliced at or even the time a big dinosaur thing tried to eat him. He simply jumped to the side and threw a grenade into the fucker's mouth.

When we finally reached the portal, there was a huge army of 'em waiting for us. The sky was almost blotted out with dragons and birds and huge insects. If we had air support, they wouldn't have been a problem, but none of our jets were operational, and helicopters were too slow. The tanks at the rear of the column opened fire, and explosions started flaring in the sky. Kristoffson roared, and all of us did too, and we ran straight towards the big glowing thing. Pretty idiotic move, huh?

[He stops to drink.]

How big was the portal?

This was one of the biggest ones, pretty sure. I can't remember exactly, but it was at least four stories tall, and lit up purple like a huge neon light. Thank God they weren't all that big.

Anyway, we slowly made our way towards the portal. The air fight was going pretty well - the Pokemon had a hard time getting near our tanks, thanks to the 50cal gunners - but we were getting savaged on the ground. Most of the beasts were too fast, or too dangerous. There were some that ran around under the concrete, shaking our footing. Others breathed poisonous gas clouds, obscuring our vision. And I will never forget the human-like ones with the red helmets and the blades on their wrists - they danced through entire squads like it was a fuckin' luau. Still, through sheer firepower, we made it within ten metres of the portal. Pokemon were continually pouring out now, and sooner or later the tide was going to turn. Kristoffson pulled this basketball-sized device out of his backpack, and ran towards the portal. He ducked under a scythe, dodged a stream of fire, and then disappeared inside.

Most of the army stopped. They couldn't believe what they had just saw. Almost immediately, though, the ground started rumbling. Electric sparks pooled out of the portal and started to force it shut. The Pokemon all panicked and started to run away, and we couldn't gun all of 'em down. We kept waiting for Kristoffson to emerge and lead us onto the next portal, but he never came out. The glow shrank and shrank until eventually it disappeared.

Did you ever learn how he did it?

Yeah, the brass told us a couple days later. It was something to do with an EMP effect, some kind of electrical surge that the Russians had been experimenting with during some Cold War "K Project" thing. Apparently what's been declassified is all on the Internet, go Wiki it or something.

Was that the end of Allen Kristoffson?

Dunno. I know for sure that he hasn't been seen since, but I hear tales every now and again that he was lookin' for something (or someone) on the Pokemon side. And if there's one fuckin' bastard who can survive the hell-hole those beasts spawn in, it's Allen Kristoffson.

]]> Stories ChainReaction01 http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/biography-allen-kristoffson-%5Bwar%5D-150679/ <![CDATA[Alternate [Write-A-Roll]]]> http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/alternate-%5Bwrite-roll%5D-150269/ Thu, 25 Apr 2013 07:38:11 GMT Author's note: I don't know about Thriller, so this story couldn't be much thrilling.

Genre: Thriller
Setting: Alternate Universe
Characters: Human main
Pokemon: Elgyem
Target: Medium, 10k-20k
CC: 11067 (IDK since last revision)

---

It was another day at the headquarters of Magneton Incorporated. It was a 30-storey building which contained offices, workplaces and the workers. The Magneton Incorporated produced items for every aspiring Trainer as an affiliate of Silph Co. because of the increasingly high numbers of new Trainers.

At the top-most floor, Vincent Magneton sat in front of his office table doing the whole stocks and numbers of the company. He was a man in his late twenties, a strikingly tall man with a young face and black hair that is cut cleanly. His body was well-built for someone who works almost non-stop while sitting and having the air-conditioner on normally cold temperatures. He was typing spreadsheets for his next shareholder's meeting, which would happen two days after.

BEEP. The sound from the beeper he pressed to call his secretary. Not a long moment later, his secretary arrived.

"Yes, Mr. Magneton?" his secretary asked. His secretary was Alicia Beheiyem, a strong-postured woman in her early twenties. Her red hair fell down smoothly at her shoulders. Her nicely-ironed uniformed were of a shade of blue. A yellow skirt hid her legs up to her knees. Black platform boots added more to her height.

"Make sure to notify the shareholders. Also, please check out the internet connection. It gets slower through the days," he said while tidying up his brown plaid polo shirt.

"Yes sir," she replied and she went outside.

Vincent went back to his work laptop. The laptop was a sleek gray model that was truly suited for professional office work. Beside it was his name bar indicating "Vincent F. Magneton, CEO" which was made of varnished oak wood. His black pen-holder stood near and held his black pen.

Suddenly, his laptop showed a notification of a private message. "Hmm, I do not expect a message," he wondered. It could be important, so he checked it out. After clicking on it, all of the lights in his office suddenly blinked on and off and his laptop showed a hypnotizing screen. Vincent had a headache from the dizzying motion of lights. He tried pressing the buzzer, but went out of consciousness before reaching it.

Vincent woke up, the previous headache banging in his head like a heavy mallet. Still, he managed to stood up, and saw what he was not expecting. He was in an open field full of green grass and the sky was on a tint of sunset orange. But there was a mysterious feeling on this place like something was different or off. He wanted to know these mysteries. Where is he? Who made him go here? He walked slowly to find civilization, the headache slowly fading away.

He found one, although he was feeling a strange presence. The houses were normal, with lawns, walls, and windows viable for a "normal" civilization. The place was silent, too silent to qualify for eerie. Cold wind was blowing, making Vincent sweat cold. He walked on, alert on any other creatures or any human. He was certain this is not the planet he was on previously before the incident.

Walking more, he saw a commotion. But what is more strange is that the commotion were of alien-like creatures. They were bluish-gray, they had large and oblong heads with two bent lines and a forked line in the middle of the other two lines. They had green eyes with a faint tinge of blue. They have hands with three finger-like digits of colors red, green and yellow. They also have short, stubby legs and a small tail. Vincent recognized them as Elgyem, the Cerebral Pokemon.

While looking inconspicuous, he looked to the commotion. What he saw was terribly inhumane. Two humans were battling. But not normal street fights. It was as if they were Pokemon. Their eyes were blank and denoted loss of sentience.

"Use Aura Sphere, you useless flesh!" the Elgyem shouted.

Without resistance, the human formed a blue ball of energy and shot it to the other enemy.

"Retaliate with Close Combat!" the other Elgyem commanded.

The same as the other human, the man zoomed closer to his enemy and started to beat him without concern to his defenses or his safety.

"What is this?" Vincent was terrified on this. He ran away while still keeping his inconspicuousness.

He hid in a dark alley, his breath resisting to be taken back. He cannot believe he was on this place. He was thinking to try finding a way to return to his place. He was definitely not safe to be here.

"I should get a safe place. But where?" he asked until he turned his head to the left. He saw an Elgyem and he presumed that the Cerebral Pokemon also saw him. He confirmed this when the Elgyem ran nearer to him with its stubby feet. "Run!" he screamed to himself and ran.

"Wait! I mean no harm," the Elgyem shouted as an effort to stop Vincent and used its psychic powers to levitate and to cover more speed than running.

Vincent should never stopped running. He raced through the many mazes of the alleys that is dark enough to see clearly. He jumped and sprinted to every obstacle and the clear paths of the roads. If he was caught, he was sure he would receive the fate of the previous humans he saw.

"I told you to stop, human!" the Elgyem decided to use its Psychic abilities to send Vincent over a headache.

"No, I won't!" Vincent dodged over the pink waves that almost hit him.

"Trust me, human," the Elgyem sent off a powerful Psychic to entangle him over.

Vincent's heart beat fast when the psychic energies entangled him until it came to a stop. He inhaled air and tried to relax. "What do you want?"

"As I said, I mean no harm. I have no interest on battling, so I decided to help you, Vincent."

"H-how did you know about my name?" Vincent was shocked at the Elgyem's offer.

"I can read minds. We're Psychic-types, remember?" Elgyem reacted somewhat sarcastically.

"Oh yeah, right. Where am I?" Vincent managed to say at his shock on the Elgyem's tone of voice.

"You're in a world where we Pokemon rule over humans. You are currently in the territory of Elgyems and we pretty much rule here," the Elgyem said in a matter-of-factly tone.

"How did I get here?" Vincent asked, hoping for an answer.

"Every Elgyem here has their own human, except for me. If an Elgyem wanted to have their own human, they would tell the Superior Office and the office would teleport a random human to this world."

"Now that my mind has been cleared a bit, how could you help me?"

"First, we need a place somewhere safe," the Elgyem said and used its Psychic abilities to teleport them away...

---

Vincent woke up from an unannounced sleep. He was in the open fields again, with the night sky still bright enough to illuminate a short range of eyesight. He saw the Elgyem, preparing a strange altar of wooden built.

"What's that?" Vincent asked.

"The teleportation device I can use to return you to any place."

"When would it be ready?" Vincent asked again.

"There is yet another missing piece here. But there is a slight problem. I can only get from certain Elgyems as a prize. I do not have any humans, so would you say yes for this one?" the Elgyem explained as if he failed on rewording it.

"Wait over there. You want me to be your human just to get something for that randomity of yours?" Vincent was shocked on his situation.

"Well, yes. There is another way, but I don't want the Elgyem Police to catch us both. That is much worse than the first option, in my opinion."

"Hmm, I guess I will take the first one," Vincent sighed.

"Okay! Let me do the ritual of 'retrieving'. I shall do you a weaker version. I have control of you, but you still get sentience. I must tell you this: act like you're completely retrieved. If they noticed the weak chain I applied on you, they will try to retrieve you. That means you would lose your sentience until they wished to," the Elgyem warned Vincent.

"Sure, let's do this fast," Vincent agreed with nervousness in his voice.

After a few incantations of alien-like language, Vincent was ready to battle. "Let's do this," Vincent said.

They reached the city at around midnight even with the help of Elgyem's power. At the middle of the street, the Elgyem said with a voice amplified with its Psychic power. "I am looking for a special piece for something quite unimportant but needed. Anyone who has it, I challenge you!" the Elgyem announced.

The crowd fell silent until another Elgyem went in front and said, "I'll take you on! My special piece to you but your human for me."

"Deal," the Elgyem agreed upon while Vincent was getting nervous but he had to keep his unsentient look.

The battle had started. Vincent against a human with a fat built and large muscles. "Go use Mach Punch!" Vincent's Elgyem had said.

Without notice, Vincent suddenly moved fast and slammed his fist to the enemy. He was successful on his Mach Punch and was not at the slightest hurt. In fact, he felt he had nothing to worry or any responsibility to manage. He was like floating on something soft.

In retaliation, the opponent's Elgyem commanded, "Body Slam!"

Like the humans he saw earlier, Vincent was squashed by the fat man. Unlike how he felt light-headed when he sent his Mach Punch, he felt like he was sandwiched between two rocks. After a while, he escaped from the large mass of fat that stuck him to the ground.

"Use Stone Edge!" Vincent's Elgyem said to retaliate more.

He suddenly picked up rocks that were sharp enough and ran towards the fat human. Like the previous feeling, he felt the most enjoyable feeling he cannot compare much.

"Iron Defense!" the enemy's Elgyem shouted at the nick of time.

As Vincent slashed the fat mass with rocks, the human went into a steady state of hardness. The rocks were destroyed into pebbles.

"Do another Stone Edge!" Vincent's Elgyem said impatiently.

"Aerial Ace!" the enemy's Elgyem shouted back.

Vincent and the human zoomed into each other, slashing with rocks or claws they had. Vincent attacked the fat man with the rocks opening up wounds while his enemy was clawing him with his suddenly sharp claws. The two battlers landed on the battlefield with the sudden anticipating silence that made the spectating Elgyems shocked.

Vincent felt pain searing his skin, but he should not lose. For the first time in his life, pain has never been this long. His feet was close to falling over, but he tried to endure this. One, two, three, four, five seconds and still counting had passed but for Vincent, it was like an hour.

To everyone's delight, the fat man had fallen to the ground and fainted. Elgyem and Vincent shook in glee along with the other spectators. As dealt over a while ago, the other Elgyem gave the missing piece and walked out without sportsmanship.

---

"Now it's ready," Elgyem announced to Vincent who fell asleep on the green grass.

"Huh? Let's do it," Vincent yawned. It was the time of dawn, but the little nap helped him to stay awake.

"Just stand into the altar," the Elgyem said eagerly with no reason.

Vincent stepped into the altar, a wooden elevation with nothing to elaborate with. As he stood on the middle, the Elgyem said, "Now, close your eyes."

Vincent obeyed with no hesitation, he was excited to return to his original land. As seconds passed by, black tendrils of smoke wrapped Vincent into a trance.

"W-what are you doing?" Vincent managed to say while trying to get his consciousness on.

"Since you will be mine, I'll tell you the truth. I lied. As simple as that. I was the one who asked the Superior Office to get a human. The piece, along with the altar, was meant for the ritual of 'total reception'. I can see your resistance in your every step. That's why I had to use this method, so you can't do much resistance. I'm sorry, even though I'm not," the Elgyem said with an evil smirk.

"You cannot do this!" Vincent tried to resist, but the tendrils enveloped him more until he can't resist no more. He tried all his might, but to no avail. His brownish-black eyes turned pitch-black. All of his resisting muscles calmed down. He turned into a mindless being. A creature of no sentience for battling. A complicated form of nothing...

---

A week later, at Earth, news spread out about Vincent's sudden absence. Many people tried to speculate for answers. Some thought that he just had a secret vacation, while some suspected murder. But there are people who just can't be notified of the truth. ]]> Stories Voltaire Magnezone http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/alternate-%5Bwrite-roll%5D-150269/ Write-a-Roll Competition http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/write-roll-competition-150239/ Wed, 24 Apr 2013 04:40:04 GMT *_WRITE-A-ROLL COMPETITION _* Welcome, one and all, to URPG’s first ever Write-a-Roll Competition! This competition is designed to stretch your imagination to the limit, expand your ‘comfort zone’ within your writing, and develop your writing skills to levels unimaginable. This contest will...
WRITE-A-ROLL COMPETITION



Welcome, one and all, to URPG’s first ever Write-a-Roll Competition! This competition is designed to stretch your imagination to the limit, expand your ‘comfort zone’ within your writing, and develop your writing skills to levels unimaginable. This contest will be challenging for almost all that decide to participate, but the rewards are high. Along with honor, you can claim a Pokémon that will equal your writing effort. More is ahead, so be sure to put on your random pants and strap in for a crazy ride!


The Dealio


Essentially, this contest is a prompt-based competition. Upon entering the competition, you’ll be given a specific topic/plot you’ll have to write a story based around. After obtaining your prompt, the story is all yours – write whatever you want and post it before the deadline to participate. A grader will judge you on how closely you stuck to your prompt, and you shall be rewarded for your endeavors, assuming all goes as planned.

However, this isn’t quite over. Your prompt is entirely up to chance. A grader, official, or moderator follows a specific set of instructions to determine what the author’s prompt will be. You’ll either get an easy prompt or one of extreme difficulty (in which case I will laugh at your misfortune and proceed to mock you). These different variables, including genre, time period, and “characters,” will determine how an author receives their prompt.

After you receive your prompt, you’re set on the path to success! You may begin posting your stories as soon as you have it written, as long as it’s posted before the cut-off date (May 31st). You’ll be judged upon how closely you stuck to your prompt and your reward is dependent on this judgment, so don’t just slap the title of Write-a-Roll on anything! Put some time and effort into your story, and you’ll be glad you did.


The Rools


1. You must be a member of URPG to participate. If you have any interest in participating and you’re not a member of URPG, sign up.
2. Everyone is a winner. I repeat. Everyone is a winner. You win by participating, so there is no voting or nonsense like that. If you write a story and do it well, you’re the winner of this competition and you’ll be rewarded accordingly.

3. You may only have one prompt. Once that prompt is rolled for you, you can’t ask for another one. The point of this contest is to stretch your imagination, and you’re hardly doing that if you continuously ask for more rolls. We’re reasonable, but we want to see you work for this contest.

4. The prompt is for fun, and there is no required participation in the contest. If you roll and get something that you’ll unlikely be able to work with, you can just leave it as that. No money reduction, no awkward scenarios, nothing.

5. Only graders, officials, and moderators can roll prompts for authors. These people are allowed to participate, but must get another grader/official/moderator to roll the prompt for them.

6. The submission window is from the moment your prompt is rolled until the end of May 31st. Your story can be posted at any time during this period.

7. Follow all other URPG Story requirements.


The Prompt


Here is where the fun happens. There are three (3) total dice that are rolled to determine the prompt of your story. These dice are the genre of the story, the time period/setting in which the story must take place, and who will be telling/within the story. It’s a bit confusing, but I’ll go ahead and show how to operate the system.


Dice #1: The Genre (20 sided dice)

1. Action
This genre is all about the exciting and intense. Explosions, car chases, burning buildings, hand-to-hand combat, sword fights, and whatever else you can imagine. But before you go off and write all that insanity, take some time to consider why all of it is happening in the first place. And don’t settle for reason like, “cuz it rocks,” if you’re actually looking to get your story accepted, that is.

2. Adventure
This genre is about traveling to unusual places and doing unusual things. Oftentimes, it involves a quest of some sort, but not necessarily. The key concepts of this genre are ‘exploration’ and ‘discovery.’

3. Comedy
It can be hard to make people laugh, but that’s what this genre tries to do. If you wanna write for this genre, then you have to think about not just what is funny, but also, what makes a story funny. Take your time.

4. Crime
Mm, organized crime. This genre gives the reader a look into the souls of the unlawful, and what the reader sees is what makes or breaks these kinds of stories. Think about human nature, corruptibility, justice, things of that sort.

5. Cyberpunk
A trippy genre. Cyberpunk entails a generally futuristic, technologically-intensive world where things aren’t so ideal, hence the name (a marriage of “cybernetics” and “punk”). If you’re not too familiar with this genre, then some popular examples might be Blade Runner or The Matrix. Key concepts of this genre include ‘systems’ and ‘control,’ or lack there of.

6. Drama
The bread-’n-butter genre. This is such a broad genre that it’s hard to even pin it down with words, but essentially, drama is about some sort of character conflict; it could be a conflict between friends or family or even a conflict with oneself. “Good” drama not only capitalizes on the intensity of the conflict, but also makes the reader understand why that conflict has to happen.

7. Fantasy
Another very broad genre. A lot of folks consider fantasy to be about swords ‘n magic, but that’s not quite right. Fantasy almost always entails some kind of magic, even if it’s only in a minor way, but swords, not so much. Swords belong to several fantasy sub-genres, like ‘sword and sworcery’ or ‘medieval fantasy,’ but they are not necessary for all fantasy tales. When you write fantasy, the most important thing is to rely foremost on your imagination and dig in for the creativity. “Good” fantasy is certainly a matter of opinion, but try to remember that fantasy without a certain degree of reality is much more distant from the reader and, more often than not, very confusing.

8. Fairy Tale
Stories that belong to this genre can be a bit strange. Fairy tales invoke a certain sense of “whimsy,” more often than not, and they also tend to involve “nature” as a theme. If you want something even stranger than that, then you can look into urban fairy tales and get yourself lost in the crazy myths that people come up with about everyday things. In short, fairy tales are a little kookie, but maybe a little fun, too.

9. Freaking Epic
What the heck is this genre? Glad you asked, because this genre isn’t like the other genres. It’s special. This genre is all about being freaking awesome. It has lotsa awesome things with lotsa awesome characters in lotsa awesome places. And we should probably tell you, that no, we’re not going to try define what “epic” means; and also, this genre is held to even higher standards than the other genres, so if you’d like a real, freaking challenge, then go ahead, put this as your main genre and try to get it entered. We dare you. We freaking dare you.

10. Heroic
Any story about a hero or heroine will fall under this genre, which includes superheroes, if you like. However, that doesn’t just refer to some guy with a magic sword or some lady that can fly under her own power; a good story about heroism requires the author to really stop and consider what that word “heroism” truly means.

11. Horror
This genre is just flat out supposed to scare the bajeebus out of whoever reads it. Think of the gruesome and grotesque; think what it really means to be a “monster.” Gore is commonplace in the Horror genre, but not a necessity; you can scare the heck out of the reader without spilling a drop of blood. It’s all about getting under the reader’s skin and making them scared to read further, yet still compelled to, because maybe they’re hoping for a happy ending somehow or maybe they just enjoy the rush. The intent is to shock the reader, to catch the reader off guard, to provide single moments of surprise and, preferably, terror. So focus on how you tell the story, more than the story itself; though, don’t neglect the latter, either, because a ludicrous plot can ruin even a very well-told story.

12. Juvenile Fantasy
These are children’s stories, or at the very least, stories aimed at younger audiences. In all honesty, most of the stories in URPG fall under this category, so to narrow it down, we’ll have this genre concern only very young children. If you wanna write for this genre, then think about what tickles the young mind.

13. Mecha
Giant robots. That’s pretty much it. That’s all you need for your story to be a part of the Mecha genre. Particularly, the robots should walk on two legs and most likely be used as tools of warfare, though not necessarily. Most likely, readers will want to see your giant robots fighting it out, but don’t let that overwhelm you or your story; exercise your creativity here and try to think about what else you can provide besides a lot of action and violence.

14. Mystery
A curious genre, BAHAHA. Sorry. This genre is all about the plot twists, about keeping the reader guessing. A lot of times, mystery authors will try to trick the reader into thinking one thing is true so that they can reveal the opposite to be true, and thus, provide a "shocking twist." However, such tactics are not very admirable. Don’t try to string your reader along with endless misinformation; instead, keep the truth well-hidden and do your best to provide information that may seem like it supports one idea, even though it really supports another idea. It’s a subtle, but important difference, not to mention difficult. Mystery plots are extremely difficult to write well, but they’re essentially just puzzles. Make sure to nail down your plot in strong detail before writing very much text, and when you’re whittling away at the plot, it may help to work backwards, especially if you hit a wall.

15. Psychological
This genre is often a bit mind-bending; it’s meant to explore the human psyche, oftentimes the psyche of a specific sort of person, such as a masochist or serial killer or someone with a messianic complex. Typically, psychological stories will involve complex human emotions and thought processes, and these stories shouldn’t be afraid to delve into the uglier side of humanity. Be prepared to explore your own emotions as your write and try to really imagine yourself in very different contexts.

16. Romance
Self-explanatory. These stories revolve around the relationships of its main characters. The trick to writing an interesting Romance is to create unique elements and conflicts that your characters must undergo. Try not to let the traditional concept of "love" overwhelm the rest of the story. Everyone looks for originality in Romance, which is difficult, because the whole genre hinges on some rather unoriginal concepts. But at the very least, Romance needs to be believable. If the reader can’t accept your romance, then your story is pretty much toast. Not much to go on, but it’s important to keep in mind, nonetheless.

17. Sci-Fi
Essentially, science fiction tries to make the impossible plausible. Not possible, but rather just believable, by way of some highly scientific explanation that we are assured is quite sound and provable within the context of the story. From the author’s perspective, however, you should look to science as a means of inspiration, rather than just explanation, because there is a tremendous amount of freedom available to you. Creativity and believability are the key aspects of any sci-fi tale, and while that may not seem like much to go on, there’s not much more that can be said without placing severe limitations upon yourself.

18. Supernatural
This genre is often confused with Fantasy. The main difference between the two is that Supernatural pertains more to "otherworldly" subjects, things like spirits ‘n the like, while Fantasy tends to focus more on "magic." It’s a rather subtle difference, to be sure, and there is some overlap, but the two genres have the potential to tell very different stories. For inspiration in this genre, look to modern myths.

19. Thriller
No, these aren’t stories about MJ’s video. BUMMER. These stories keep you on the edge of your seat. Prepare yourself for several twist and turns, shocking surprises, and unsettling themes. This is a more story-driven and milder genre than that of Horror. An example might be a story that entails a complex conspiracy theory.

20. Other
This one is a catch-all, for anything that doesn’t quite fit into the other genres. If chosen, your goal is to make your story NOT one of the above genres.


Dice #2: The Time Period/Setting (10 sided dice)


1.Primitive: Think cavemen. Living in caves and scrounging for fire. Very wild and unstable/unpredictable. Right when humans are first starting to appear in history. Feel free to go wild with this one. Pun intended.

2.Dark Ages: Smack in the Medieval times. Knights of the Round Table, castles, wizards, you name it. This is back when illness was rampant, wealth distribution was massively unequal, and the entire world is shrouded. We don’t even know all the places you can go with this one.

3.Steampunk/Victorian Era: The world is changing fast. Industrializing at the speed of light, your goal is to capture this era of development in your story. Steampunk is a great idea of how this can be used effectively, but you’re free to do as you please. Know that the world is just now truly being discovered, and your story can explore any piece of this fascinating time in history.

4.Current Day: No matter the universe you’re in, no matter where you are, your story takes place now. Current information, current technology, everything. You’re only restricted by what we have now, but that’s hardly a restriction. Just make sure to stay true to the world around you while you’re writing about this.

5.Not-So-Distant Future: A futuristic utopia. Everything seems flawless in this newly developed world. Technology is advanced and green, and humans are reaching levels of intelligence higher than thought possible. Floating cities, hover cars, and more are all possibilities within this interesting time period. Feel free to expand!

6.Apocalypse Now: The world is ending. Pick your poison. Zombies? Sure. Alien Invasion? You got it. Nuclear Warfare instigated by Invading Zombie Aliens? Bring it on. Just know that society and possibly even the world itself is crumbling around you.

7.Space: We’re on a spaceship! You choose the circumstances, such as the reasons and the consequences, but remember that the gravity force isn’t like one would normally think. Again, where, why, and how is up to you, so get creative!

8.Within the Pokemon World (Regions): We give you the region and you pick from there. It can be a town/city within the region, an area mentioned in the anime, or even a completely new area. Stay true to the local culture and you’ll do fine – the rest is up to you! Rollers: if this is selected, roll an additional 10 sided dice to determine which region. The order goes: Kanto, Sevii Islands, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, Orre, Fiore, Almia, Oblivia. If you're unfamiliar with these regions, time to start with the research!

9. An Alternate Universe: We don’t know how different this universe is, nor if anyone is even picking up on this difference, but we know for a fact that something is… off. Don’t confuse this with crossover, as this still takes place within a single universe. There is a change and we have to be able to pick up on it, but you’re free to choose from there!

10. Crossover: Have another universe you’re obsessed with? Ready to mesh it up with Pokemon, even if it doesn’t quite deserve it?! Well, you’re in luck! This takes two or more different universes and merges them into one. It doesn’t matter which universe you’re combining, as long as Pokemon is one of them, so feel free to get those creative juices flowing!


Dice #3: The Characters (5 sided dice)

1. Pokemon Main. Human main character? Nu-uh, unless the rest of your prompt specifically calls for it (which is unlikely). Your Pokemon can be human-like, like Team Rocket’s Meowth or the characters of the PMD games, but they can only be Pokemon!

2. Human Main. Pokemon main character? I don’t think so, unless you’re specifically told to write this from the rest of your prompt (again, unlikely.) This isn’t saying you can’t encounter a Pokemon – you’ll have to if you want your story to be a success – your main character is just a person instead of a beast.

3.. Pokemon and Humans, Together but Separate. A perfect harmony! You’ve got free reign here, but the main characters have to be at least one Pokemon and one human. This requires multiple main characters to be completely effective.

4. Pokemon and Humans, Hybrid. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking but I still don’t care. You’re going to write about some hybrids. Your main character is a mix between Pokemon and human, and which characteristic is dominant doesn’t matter. They could have the werewolf complex or be completely satisfied in their bodies, but we want an amazing combination!

5. ??? You got this, whatever the heck you are. You can’t be any of the above character options, so let your brain run wild. Make sure it applies to the rest of your prompt though, as you can still be reduced if this changes the other, “heavier” parts of your prompt.


Graders/Officials/Moderators: Important Message. If a prompt is deemed physically impossible (unlikely, but we’ll include this just in case), a prompt can be rerolled. This can only happen if you think that a prompt can’t be completed, and you’ll have to get the clearance of another grader/official/moderator before rerolling. You two must both agree that the prompt is unachievable, and then you can post another roll.


The Prizes


What everybody is here for anyway… By participating in this competition, you’re entitled to whatever you write. If you wrote for a Staryu, you can claim that Staryu, assuming your story is successful in its capture attempt. In addition to the initial earnings of the story, you will be graded upon how closely you stuck to your prompt. If you stuck close to your prompt, you can earn a Pokemon up to the highest rank of what you had written. However, if you didn’t stick to your prompt at all, you’ll be unable to claim anything besides your story-obtained Pokemon. I’ll explain more:

Continuing with my example, let’s say that I wrote for my Staryu with a perfect ‘stick’ with the prompt. The grader says I did a wonderful job and says I can claim a Pokemon equal to Staryu’s story rank, which is Hard. This claim is entirely my decision, and I can claim this new Pokemon as soon as the submission window closes. However, let’s say that I didn’t stick too closely to the prompt and the grader gives me a subpar score, saying I can claim a Medium-ranked Pokemon. Like I would claim any other reward, I’ll wait until the end of the submission window and claim my medium Pokemon. Finally, if I wrote for both a Staryu and an Abra (or a Magikarp, for that matter), I can only claim one prize, even if I stuck closely to the prompt.

Let it be known that you can’t obtain a reward Pokemon higher ranked than the one you wrote for. Even if you stuck to the prompt flawlessly and only wrote for a Magikarp, you would only be able to claim another Pokemon from the same rank as a reward. You can, however, obtain a reward Pokemon lower ranked than the one you wrote for. If you stuck to the prompt but not at the expected level, you might obtain a reward a rank or two down from what your target was. This is because you’ll be rewarded upon effort, not just completion, so don’t just write a bunch of scrambled words in hopes of obtaining a Pokemon of whatever rank you went for.

Another important notice: graders should be less strict on lower ranked stories and stricter on stories for higher ranked Pokemon. If a person writes for a Magikarp but doesn’t stick to the prompt too closely, don’t lock them out of the reward. They tried, and it’s honestly quite difficult to fit a prompt into a story of such miniscule length. On the other hand, if an author is aiming for a Merciless Pokemon, they better stick pretty damn close to the prompt if they wish to acquire a prize of the same rank. It’s like grading as a whole – you’re going to go easier on the shorter stories simply because there isn’t as much expected, and this situation applies here as well.


The Leftovers


Not much else to say! I wish you good luck, and I hope that your imagination kicks into overdrive. Submissions can begin as soon as your prompt is rolled, so start writing as soon as possible. You have until May 31st to write and post your story, so make sure it’s the best that it can possibly be. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. If not, get rolling and writing!! ]]> Stories Princess Crow http://bmgf.bulbagarden.net/f396/write-roll-competition-150239/