Embracing the Maelstrom.

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    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    Default Embracing the Maelstrom. (Rated R for violence and language.)

    Hello everyone, I have posted this fanfic up before, but since it is currently not viewable, I shall post it again much to the delight or horror of the masses. :) This is a fanfic me and a close friend are working on, and please pardon any real grammical or spelling errors. They shall be amended in time. For a quick refrence, I have compiled the 'Horosha' chapters, and my friend wrote the 'Kixque' chapters. Here we go...

    ~*{Horosha}*~

    Chapter I: Enter the Fray

    “Attention all personnel on deck, and engine rooms II thru IV. We are approaching Slateport city in 55 minutes. Our ship will be docking in Pier VI, and a clean sweep of all areas will be required. Admiral Ducof will be inspecting this brig with his crew, to ensure there are no mishaps. Captains quarters reporting out,” my ears picked up the booming speaker placed towards the main hatch. Nobody has noticed my arrival here on the S.S. Genyosha, and I pray it shall remain that way.

    I am nothing more than a misguided stowaway denied entry back home. I snuck aboard this vessel, hiding inside some decaying apples for I lacked the funds to pay for a ticket aboard. My body has the scent of granny smiths, but it is a price to pay rather than being flogged by sailors on swing shift. So far fate has been relieving its merciless mantle upon my shoulders, but I predict it will smother me once more in moment’s time.

    “Most likely a group of three sailors will inspect this area in five minutes. I must seclude myself in another crate,” I thought, as I pressed my body against the steel meshed floor. Crawling like a road kill gecko, my chalky white premiere ball clanked against the flooring. Inside it harbored Itabo, my plump, yet bourgeois Nincada. I received him as a birthday present from my friend Kenshiro, but alas he has left this mortal coil two years ago. Still, I shall raise my partner to the extent of my abilities. To make Kenshiro’s departure not in vain.

    “Tis both our sorrows mired with blood,” and wedging between a satin cloth crate, and a wall on the rear right side my upper torso poked out like a tortoise head. “ Itabo, I can feel your heart beating in anticipation, but we must veil ourselves from restless eyes,” so I pulled down an oily tarp, and covered it on my body like a tamale. Rudiment camouflage, but my options are rather limited now. Lying still, my lungs inflated in sync with the waves caressing the hull. My body was like a rod, without any unnecessary movement or irritation. From the corner of my left aqua colored eye, a brief spark from a lantern flashed in the darkness. A stout man walked through a door towards the left rear end. The roar of engines, and lyrics from the gears boomed from the room. Quickly slamming the brass door, the sailor walked briefly with his eyes darting around restlessly. Then, in a hustle he returned to the engine room. Darkness returned once more.

    “So far, this exodus to Hoenn has been a nerve-racking experience m’dear. Yet, the climatic orgasm of suspense is too intoxificating to forgo. But I just hope that the hype about the jobs, and opportunities to make a career in pokemon battling are a reality. We’ve risked too much in entering by illegal means to be turned back to a country that no longer wants us,” I thought. After a minute of silence, no other sailors entered to perform their ‘sweep’, so I pulled my frail body out of the space, and placed my withered hand on Itabo’s ball. My pulse united with his for a brief second, but the feeling was a mutual sign of bonding between man and beast.

    “Spring forth from thy shelter,” I whispered as I tossed the premiere ball lightly on the mesh. A small clink echoed, and a flash of brilliant bright light flashed the darkness. I saw four humanoid figures six meters ahead, but neither did they or I paid heed to each other.

    “Szee,” Itabo wheezed, as he nestled his brittle textured skin against my own thinning flesh. I could feel his plump abdomen, and his head rested on my stomach like a child seeking comfort from the mother. The Nincada faintly scratched my knees with his conch shell fore claws, a sign that either meant he was seeking nourishment, or affection.

    “I lack any foodstuffs to fill either of our stomachs, but it is only a brief matter of time, before we can plunder at least a scant morsel to prolong our hunger pains.” Ironically, both of our bowels gurgled in sync. For a time span of four minutes we both sat still, with Itabo curled up on my lap like a puppy, rubbings its hind legs together, playing a grim serenade of the soul. Both our souls were at peace, savoring these priceless moments.

    “Szeeick!” sidestepping to the left rapidly, Itabo flicked his plump fore legs. His claws connected with the flesh of another man. It was a boy, for he yelped with a pre-puberty voice. My hands were restless in pulling out my switchblade, but I resisted the urge, for the reason the youth intruded our space had yet to be determined.

    “Ow! Hey man call it off, please!” the boy pleaded. I clicked my tongue, and Itabo canceled his attack, and resumed position on my lap. “I’m so sorry for startling ya. My name is Charlie, and yours?”

    “I’ve forsaken my birth title. No mother would dare label a son whom sent damnation to many.”

    “Sheesh…morbid fellow aren’t ya? Well, if you want to join up with the rest of my friends, we are just over yonder,” Charlie waved to the left, “Them guys by the way, they are like yourself, since they got no home or family too,” the youth sprinted back to the group.

    “Interesting lad…I used to be like him, full of spunk and a undying love for life,” I whispered, “Itabo, shall we accompany them?”

    “Iiib!”

    Returning Itabo back into his ball, I crept alongside the crates, and goods that were displaced on the floor. There was a tiny lantern in the middle of the circle of men. Charlie stood up, and beckoned us over. While approaching, the boggling words used by the ragged men filled my ears, for no tongue or creed could decipher the meaning behind such muddled vocals.

    “Greeting, a tainted soul is amongst your ranks,” but the men were preoccupied in their palaver. Charlie prompted himself to my right side, and smacked my back. His rosy cheeks glistened due to the kerosene flames. My heart was filled with a sight for I envied him, in more ways than one.

    “Oh, the men here are from a place called Shastaha, but nobody knows how to translate their jargon. However, they followed me all the way from Olivine, claming that I am del Fa. I don’t know if that’s a good things or not, but since we’ve met, nobody has dared to harass me.”

    “Perhaps your some kind of cult based deity?”

    “I dunno, but the tall one with the Maltese cross like tattoos on his cheeks, he is some kind of a war vet since he has a crap load of scars across his body. Plus the others label him Ushe’ii, followed by a salute whenever he stops talking.”

    “So, why did you decide to board this vessel, if I may intrude upon personal matters?” my emotionless voice rang. Shuffling a little bit due to discomfort, Charlie placed his mouth against my ear, and slowly whispered.

    “I miss my mother,” he said, “She left me a year ago, because she couldn’t handle the perils of single parenthood. So I was placed in a foster home of some ad executive and his cosmopolitan wife, but it did not turn out any good for either of us.”
    “Yet, how did you hear about your mother’s possible location?”

    “I heard Danielle Barker, the local caretaker of the Olivine lighthouse mention that he saw her brag about a photo shoot in a town called Lavaridge with several lawyers whom helped her send me to foster care in the first place. So I found a global atlas at the library, and discovered that she went to Hoenn. The rest is self-explanatory.”

    Without warning, a brief flash of my birth mother’s pale, but lively face engulfed my eyes. I remember when I had an emotional crisis that followed up to my eventual exodus, but I can never forget how she treated this tender situation. Instead of just tossing out haphazard advice about striving for my goals, and make the most out of this mono stand of life. She simply embraced my body, and whispered.

    “View the world with closed eyes, and damn yourself for all time.”

    “Matilda,” I muttered under my breath.

    “Who’s she? Some girlfriend of yours?”

    “That name no longer has a foundation in this mono-stand existence, but all I can say is that she merely put things into perspective. Anyway, your mother, does she know you’re coming to seek her?”

    “She doesn’t, nor would she care. All she cares about is money, and filling up her portfolio, so she could be a model for some big shot company like Spearow jeans.”

    “I see,” but looking into his dusty eyes, I saw a reflection of myself dancing amongst the retinas. My childhood was rather carefree, but this boy clearly is hiding another piece of the puzzle. One that would simply ravish any last humanity he’s trying to keep cemented together. Much like myself, during the tumbleweed known as adolescence, trying to make sense of the world and the devious manners of my surrogate family.

    “Kemi’teha hiba hiba kl’ooon!” three of the men saluted marine style, and Ushe’ii bowed in reverence to the faithful squad. Both Charlie and me felt like laughing. The Shasta’s resembled sloshed MP’s since they swayed and tipped over like they finished off a tankard of ale in one gulp. I nearly forgot how it felt to be around a group of people, but the feeling was a refreshing mint in the dour diet of dismal in my soul. But, my paranoia enticed my nerves, for something was soon about to put a crash on this relatively peaceful ride. A loud blaring of elevator music erupted from the aging speakers; the admiral was on the air.

    “Good morning my comrades. It is 12:48 P.M. HST on March 6th, 2025. Today, once we land port on Pier VI in 15 minutes, the maintenance crew will be in charge with maintaining the valves on the plumbing pipes, and seals on sectors G, and X in the hull. Also all ideal sailors will be put to work on ‘sweeping’ the cargo hull and brig to ensure there are neither stowaways, nor illegal activity taking place that would otherwise hinder our productivity. This is admiral Ducof, reporting and out.”
    A loud thumping on the aluminum stairs to the second entrance on the right erupted. The Shasta’s quickly placed their faces on the floor, and started to crawl. Charlie pressed his head against my side, slightly sobbing and muttered a brief prayed to Jesus, as I stood vigilant anticipating the next movement. Then a group of two sailors armed with flashlights, and a grizzled mariner yielded a harpoon began to patrol the tightly packed containers, seeking out any unwanted personnel.

    “Aye sir Tak, I foun’ me a bag o’ hash poking out of a animal plushy co’tainer.” Jackson bellowed. Tak, the elderly mariner, kicked around a parcel sized box, exposing only women’s undergarments, and an edition of Poketeen.

    “Crap oi say’ culley. Dis a work o’ fanny flashers ‘n skags soiling de sea with landlubber trash!” he gored a box with the serrated tip of the harpoon, causing beach sand to pour out like a creek.

    “Boss, is de boss gonna’ get steamed off ‘cause the reckless behavior we be’ a causin?”

    “Shut ye trap Carl, dem prissy lubbers got insurance n’ greenbacks to burn, and besides, we can say de porters mangled up them boxes.”

    “Yah, ‘k boss. Jess makin sure ‘cause safety first my mama saiz,” and the sea bound brutes resumed smashing passengers valuables, just out of boredom of riding the waves of the sea for so long. The Shasta’s wiggled to Charlie, and covered his mouth as they pulled him down. He attempted to struggle to be by my side, but out of concern, they shoved him into a box with pillow down on top. I did not pay any heed, for I had to keep my guard up, in case the sailors came to my side. But a deep primal urge mingled with my tension and adrenaline, invoking a dark sensation to slay them all, or at least cripple one. My left hand furiously equipped my blade from my Tauros skin belt, as I heard the clunking of metal echo along with the rumbling of waves against the hull. Unleashing the faint mythril switchblade, my senses were keen as a tiger, ready to strike down some hapless creature without mercy. The beating of my heart matched the roaring of the hull, the smashing by crowbars, and the inner demons of homicide bellowing out commands.

    I submitted to those primal feelings, not out of concern of the stowaways, or the youth that resembled a long forgotten piece of me. But out of sheer boredom, riding the waves of the sea for so long. Embracing the darkness, I began my assault with Itabo’s soul in sync with my own.
    Last edited by SulcataIxlude; 8th March 2004 at 04:31 AM.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  2. #2
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 1: A New Sight in Rustboro


    I look down at my one and only pokéball. It is the dwelling of my one and only remaining friend, Casanova, a Meditite. Today felt different, and I don’t even know how to explain it. Today, everything just feels so different. Maybe, just maybe, I might be free from this ludicrous world. I reach down to tap the button on Casanova’s pokéball to let him free. I then begin to ask, but before I can ask my question, Casanova gently places his hand over my mouth and simply nods. I then continue watching him as he looks out of the window.

    I felt reassured by Casanova’s response; that was the friendliest response he has showed in a long time. I follow Casanova as he leaps onto my bed and meditate. I decided to look at what he was looking at through the window. There was the usually buildings, the pokécenter, and even the ocean. Maybe one day, just one day, I might be able to walk away from this as a trainer, and not a worthless nobody who is stuck waiting to die. Then, as if out of pure fantasy, there was something different in my view. To my surprise, I saw a movie van and some new faces moving in. Maybe this new group of people might be who gave me this new feeling.

    “Hey Casanova…” I began as I turned to see Casanova already on his feet. I walk down the stairs and head outside. As I left my home, I saw two Machamps carrying in the last of the boxes. I mutter out loud, “Man, they just move in faster and faster.” I walk over to the house and knock on the door.

    I waited for a while and then knocked again. I then heard something hit the door and then it opened. I stick out my hand and greet, “Hi, I’m Kixque.” I notice the guy who opened the door stuck out his hand as he shyly stated, “Uh, hello, I’m Radic.” I looked down and noticed that his hand was far off from mine, so I brought it to his hand and then shook hands.

    I begin, “So you just moved in here?” Radic nods his head. I continue, “Are you a Pokémon trainer too?” Radic presented a puzzled look and inquired, “You mean you don’t know me?” I looked closer but I did not see any recognition. Radic continued, “So ya didn’t see me in the big Pokémon League match against Red?” “You were in the Pokémon league? How cool! Too bad I haven’t heard about you. Hoenn is a completely different region. We never get to hear about the Pokémon League matches here,” I ramble. Radic lets out a sigh of relief. I continue, “Say, if you were that good of a trainer, could you teach me some tricks?” “Maybe later. I just moved in today, and am trying to get used to this place, and I doubt I can show you much anyways,” responded Radic. I eagerly suggest, “Say Radic, what if we go to the gym tomorrow and you show us how a true trainer is in the heat of battle.”

    Radic’s eyebrows raise a bit and he begins, “You have a gym in this town?” “Oh yeah. Our leader, Onyx, raises the strongest Pokémon I have seen. So many trainers have fallen in front of Onyx.” “Oh really?” begins Radic, “What type of Pokémon does Onyx use?” “He uses the strongest of the all. He uses the rock-type Pokémon,” I eagerly answer as I strike poses that Onyx has used. Radic sighs and begins, “So ya think he is tough, huh?” “Oh yeah. I don’t think he’s an easy leader to beat,” I respond.

    Radic asks, “Do you have any Pokémon of your own?” “Yeah, he’s right here,” I answer as I point to Casanova. Radic sorrowfully answers, “I’m sorry, but I am blind. I could not see ‘em.” “Whoa! You’re blind and you still got into the Pokémon League? You’ve got to be the coolest and greatest trainer there is!” I exclaim while I stare at him. Radic sighs and looks away. He begins, “No, I’m not. I’m nothing and that is about all I will end up being.” “Are you kidding me? If anyone is nothing, that would be me. The closest I have to a friend is Casanova, and he just sits by himself meditating most of the time,” I respond. Radic comments, “So you have a Meditite, right?” “Yeah, how did you know if you couldn’t even see him?” I answer in a puzzled manner.

    Radic answers, “Not all knowledge comes from your eyes. Besides, that is what a Meditite and Medicham do, meditate. You should know this stuff as a trainer, especially if it is your only Pokémon.” I stare at Radic in awe and feel the shame creeping up my back for not knowing. Radic continues, “Have you challenged Onyx yet?” “No way, I can’t do that. I don’t stand a chance against him. What makes you think I can stand up to someone like him?” I answer in a perplexed way. Radic finally cracks a smile and comments, “Come in, Kixque. There is a lot of stuff for you to learn. Maybe then you will realize how I am nothing.”

    Radic explained to me the basics of Pokémon training. He taught me about types, weaknesses, characteristics, and even of something much deeper, his past. He told me the tales of his rivalry with Red, about Violet, how he acquired his blindness, his popular loss to Red, and how he ended up coming to Hoenn. The thing I found the strangest was how he used completely different team just to make sure nobody would even recognize him. The more Radic described, the more depressed he became. I could see tears forming as he was about to continue. I interrupted, and commented, “ That’s enough. You should take a break.” Radic nods and comments, “You should probably head on home.” “How did you know the sun was going down, Radic?” I inquired as I look at the window. Radic simply comments, “You are too reliant upon your eyes.” “Alright. Can I at least watch your match against Onyx tomorrow?” “If it will make you happy,” replies Radic. I eagerly answer, “It would, since I would like to see the first time Onyx falls.” “And before you go,” adds Radic, “Could you do me one slight favor?” “What’s that?” I ask. Radic resumes, “Could you let Poe out of his Pokéball? It is the one next to the bookshelf.” I walk over and press the button and out pops a Noctowl. Poe then flies onto Radic shoulders.

    I grab Casanova’s hand and shout to Radic as I leave, “Goodnight Radic. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Radic nods as I leave the house. I turn down to Casanova and ask, “Did you hear what Radic said you are capable of?” Casanova nods his head as he flexes his muscles. I then get down on one knee and ask, “Do you think we can beat Onyx?”

    Casanova continues to stand in the same spot. I suggest, “Maybe you need some rest. Let’s go to bed and watch Radic’s match, ok?” Casanova walks home and I slowly follow, pondering if I can become as skilled as Radic is.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  3. #3
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{Horosha}*~

    Chapter II: Blood and Shadows

    My eyes adjusted with the shadows, but I did not use the ones planted upon my face. The inner essence of my soul, or ‘chi’ overwhelmed my mortal senses, and I could see thin strands of energy radiating off all living things, like a thin curl of smoke. Five yards away, I saw the chi of the approaching brute, a rather burley, yet hopeless man who’s aura had neither color or strength. I tip toed across an aisle of cargo, paying no heed to the ravaging of boxes by the brute’s ‘companions’. My nostrils picked up the scent of spoiled fruit, incense from the orient, and sweat from the sailor. He stumbled into a box of china, since a loud shatter came from within. But, he did not contemplate about the goods. Just like a bull in a china shop, but his charging was over.

    “Carl, o’hoy culley found a’thing yonder?” Tak’s aging vocals echoed in the freight, “Not a thing boss, jess heaps o’shit,” and Carl pivoted towards the left, my direction. Elongating my legs like some shorebird, I crept through the aisle, and turned to the right after covering a distance of about two yards. Carl made it towards my origin point, but did not notice my movements.

    “Good—this will be rather effortless. I must not dull my senses to the blind temptations of carnage, for even if my blows land successfully upon organ and marrow, any slip up of the stealthy strike, could retaliate amongst the sailors, and slay myself in one swipe each!” I muttered silently to reassure myself to keep calm, and diligent, “No more errors, not till my death anyway,” I felt with my hands a small opening beneath one of the platforms that lifted heaps of boxes in the air. I could feel Carl’s footsteps approaching a corner only about a yard away, so without a second thought, I plunged my body into the opening, and crawled through like a serpent. A hook caught a hold of my leather jackets fabrics, making it tear slightly. The sound mesmerized Carl’s gnarled ears. A beam of condensed light flashed from my rear, and its beams faintly reflected off my hobnail boots.

    “Avast, I gazed o’pon something towards me starboard side boss!” but this time Jackson responded, “Sort it ye self skag, for Tak no deals with assumptions of the faint tricks o’ de mind!” This news was not very comforting indeed. Thrusting my arms onto the other side’s opening, I pulled my body hastily, tearing off a chunk of my jacket in the process. Now, everyone acknowledged my presence. Carl wagged his flashlight in a frenzy to discover any trace of myself, but I was on the other side pressing my body tight against a barrier of boxes. The scatting of leather upon mesh came from not only behind me, but also from 20 yards to the northeast. Two more light beams shone in my areas, but they only luminated countless crates. I lied on the floor, with feelings of frustration battering my brain.

    “No! I must keep calm,” my body began to sweat furiously, “Rage is nothing more than a seclusion of rationality. Keep yourself calm like the cicadas in the fall awaiting their grand evolution. Keep your mind in focused away from the slaying, but the chinks in the target’s mentality and skills. For unraveling the actions set forth, than those of now will unveil the stand of fate, a chi than the common mug will never embrace. Stay still, labor thy breathing, and strike only with focus,” I placed the mythril switchblade onto my right, unstable arm, “Much like how the cicada, lays in harmony amongst the tiamats of nature, awaiting its grand evolution.” Carl’s heavy footsteps halted at the opening below the platform, and lit up the area, analyzing for any traces of myself. He muttered a barrage of sailor curses, but I strolled quickly across the right corner of the aisle with murder in my eyes. Without a second thought, my left hand reached into my silky chestnut hair, and unwound both of the friendship braids of my dual ponytails. Ritualistically, I am denouncing my oath of peace, for the straightforward actions of death. I stuffed the rainbow colored braids in my beast pocket, and my senses picked up the brute’s faint chi.

    “Patience, and the hunt shall end, but rashness releases the gun shots of havoc,” adrenaline flooded my muscles, lightening my tension. This sudden burst of savage energy made me smile like death himself. Oh, my rage was about to be exhaled in one breath all right, “Oy Tak nothing over here, only feces o’ rats and fleas,” that booming sentence would be his last.

    I sprinted silently up to his back, with my left hand extended outwards; I caught onto Carl’s raggedy brown ponytail. The saw paper like touch disgusted my fingers, but that did not matter now. Instantly, I pulled him back, snapped both of his elbows at their connecting points at blinding speed, and jabbed his bladder. Carl wheezed, the wind was knocked out of him. My left hand clamped his sore laced lips shut, not another sound escaped from those lips. Twirling it like a windmill I lunged the switchblade into the cartilage of Carl’s larynx. The blade had no trouble ripping it up, and a thin creek of blood began to leak out. Carl’s eyes widened, but my blade simply popped them out like Vaseline balloons. A runny gooey paste secreted from them, mixing with blood making the face a ghastly mask.

    “Redrum,” I positioned my blade into the clavicle, nicking it, and ravishing layers of skin and muscle on my weapon’s downward trek. Countless vessels popped, and the cheap cotton fabric of his stripped shirt gave way to the pressure of the moving blade. Several ribs were cracked, and a lung simply popped, and finally ripping out the blade, I pummeled it into the stomach, releasing gastric acids that simply ate away the abdomen skin. Blood erupted from the Z-line wound, resulting in the shirt ripping in half as Carl’s body was torn from within soaking the mesh flooring, and crates in a explosion of guts and fluids. The remaining corpse banged against the floor, in uneven pieces. My body was soaked in the ruby juices, but that is what I wanted. I pulled out a quarter from my left jean pocket, and kneeled to the sailor’s mangled head. Opening his mouth, I place the coin underneath his tongue.

    “No soul deserves to wander amongst the fields of limbo in solitude,” and while getting up I licked my lips. The blood was sour, but it was merely a metaphor of living a life in such a hard world. Wiping my switchblade with a piece of silk, I placed it back in my left hobnail boot. A smile no devil could ever replicate luminated my face. Carnage is what I am reduced to, and blood is nothing more than a spoke in my fate. Surprisingly, none of the other sailors noticed. I turned off the dying flashlight. Catching any unwanted attention now would not be appreciated. I pressed my right hand against Itabo’s premiere ball.

    “Itabo, we are almost there, no more hiding once we embracing society. However, I must loose my tainted clothing. I don’t think humanity would take it kindly if a drifter strolled around like a butcher,” so I began to strip off the festering clothes, and as my jacket came off, I rebounded my hair with the multicolored braid. I won’t be killing for a while I recon.

    “Carl get yo’ arse here now! Haven’t heard a peep come from ye lips since we started,” Tak ordered, and a pair of footsteps started to make there way towards me. Clutching my clothes, I began to run down to the south of the cargo hull, but their lights were pointed in my area, and making a sweep. I saw a container of bed sheets to my southwest, so I quickly lobbed the top off, and plunged my body in. I did not bother to seal it up for it would leave me in a more vulnerable state, so I covered myself in linen, keeping all bodily sounds at a minimum. Just then the speakers roared.

    “Five minutes until docking. All personal finish up any necessary preparations for landing, and begin to escort all passengers to the deck. To the engine maintenance crew in the turbines, begin to reduce power, and activate the cooling jets. Last, but not least all cargo sweep personal must report to the deck, or engine rooms to assist. That is all, captain’s quarters reporting out,” Tak bellowed out, “Culleys, stop yo’ antics and accompany me to the brig. We’ve got other things ta follow besides the captain’s prissy antics!” in a hustle Jackson ran towards the nearby exit, with Tak stomping from behind.

    “The gods of dumb luck must favor me today,” but then Charlie came to mind and his entourage. A faint piece of my humanity prayed that he was safe.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  4. #4
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 2: No Sweat From A Rock


    I turn over to Casanova, whom is meditating on my bed, and inquire, “Do you think that Radic will actually be able to beat Onyx?” Casanova closes his eyes and remains silent. I roll my eyes and mumble, “Sometimes, I don’t even know why I bother.” I rub my hand across my face and suggest, “Let’s go see Radic and watch his match.” Casanova cracks his neck as he rolls his head and then hops off of the bed. As we go down the stairs, my brother mentions, “Kixque! There is some newcomer who says he will take down Onyx. He also says he’ll do it in just five minutes!”

    “Radic’s already gone to challenge him?” I thought. I grabbed Casanova’s hand and ran out the door and straight to the Rustboro Gym, not even noticing the huge crowd gathered outside of the stadium. As I force my way through the crowd and into the gym, Radic turns around. Radic shouts, “It took you long enough to wake up. I was about to start the match without you. Alright Onyx, it’s time for me to show you that you aren’t all that superior.” “You sound quite sure of yourself, but I guess I must show you the strength of Rock-typed Pokémon and why I am the gym leader of the largest city in Hoenn. Just to show you how great I am, I will even let you send out your Pokémon first,” boasts Onyx. Radic shrugs and comments, “That’s fine with me.”

    “Dipsy, time to show what ya got,” calls Radic as he releases Dipsy. “Quag,” comments Dipsy as he fixes his glasses. Onyx boasts a deep laugh and comments, “I didn’t know they made toys that small yet! This should be an easy match!” Dipsy shows a fierce grin and re-adjusts his glasses. Onyx laughs and releases his Pokémon as he comments, “Go Rhyhorn! Smash that puny toy into dust!” As Rhyhorn hits the ground, the entire stadium shakes. While Dipsy re-adjusts his glasses from the tremor, Radic gives off a long sigh. Onyx shouts, “Rhyhorn! Flatten it like a bug on the windshield with ‘Take Down’!” Radic effortlessly commands, “Dipsy, time to make a change to his world with ‘Earthquake’.”

    The ground begins shaking violently and Rhyhorn falls to a crashing halt. An announcer announces over the intercom, “Rhyhorn is unable to battle. Victory goes to the challenger, Radic.” Dipsy then wags his tail at Onyx and then sticks out his tongue. Onyx growls and mumbles, “That was a lucky hit. Rhyhorn, return to your Pokéball. Graveler, time to teach them a lesson.” Rhyhorn returns to its Pokéball as Graveler is released.

    Radic sighs and complains, “Come on, at least put up a fight. Dipsy, your turn is over. Chopan, why don’t you finish things quickly?” Dipsy returns to his Pokéball and Chopan is released. Chopan prances around happily. Onyx commands, “I will not allow myself to be beaten by a pony! Graveler, ‘roll out’ attack, now!” “Let’s be nice Chopan. Just use ‘Confusion’ on the Graveler,” replies Radic. Chopan continues to gallop around until it gets hit by the Graveler.

    In retaliation to the collision, Mozart, Chopan’s other head, growls and bite’s the back of Chopan’s neck. When Chopan finally feels the blood trickle from Mozart’s bite, Chopan slams Mozart into the ground. Onyx laughes and commands, “Continue the ‘Roll out’, Graveler.”

    Chopan continues to pound Mozart into the ground until the Graveler hits the Girafarig again. Radic hears the pain from the Graveler’s continued assault and shouts, “Chopan! Mozart! Stop it! Use your ‘Psychic’ attack now!” “No use kiddo. This round is mine!” beckons Onyx. Chopan and Mozart pull themselves to a standing position psychokinetically sends the charging Graveler across the stadium.” As Graveler lies on its back from the psychokinetic force, the announcer announces, “Graveler is unable to continue battling. Chopan wins the round.”

    “Enough is enough! It is time to show you my true abilities! Graveler, return to your Pokéball immediately. Lunatone, it is time to show this punk who he is dealing with!” shouts Onyx Graveler returns and Lunatone is released.

    I stand there amazed that Radic is playing this match nearly flawlessly. I don’t even understand how he can do this without even seeing what is happening. I turn to Casanova and inquire, “Do you think we can beat him? Radic seems to be doing this so easily right now.” Casanova places his hand on my heart and gives a gentle grip upon my shirt. I thought to myself that I would only find out when I finally challenge Onyx.

    Radic nods and calls back Chopan. Radic then comments, “So you are finally using something a little unique. Hey Kixque, what do you think of when you think of the moon, and don’t say cheese?” I think for a moment and look at the ceiling and begin to feel a yawn coming. I then reluctantly answer, “Sleep?” “Exactly! Rezna, go finish off the show.” Rezna, the Piloswine, lands on the ground with a deafening clash.

    Onyx shouts, “Lunatone, use your ‘Hypnosis’ now!” Lunatone obeys the command and sends a hypnotic beam at Rezna. Radic stays quiet for a moment and then commands, “Rezna, use your ‘Blizzard’ attack!” Everything remains motionless for a moment. A faint snore from Rezna is then heard. Onyx laughs and listens to his laugh echo through the stadium. Onyx then inquires, “What will you do now? Lunatone, use your ‘Rock Throw’ ability.” Lunatone lifts up the largest rock it can find. Radic shouts, “Sleep talk now!” Lunatone hurls rock at Rezna when a powerful blast of frigid air shoots from Rezna. Lunatone’s eyes widen as it helplessly watches the boulder soar right back at Lunatone. The announcer comments, “Lunatone is no longer able to battle. The winner of this match is the challenger, Radic.”

    Onyx demands, “No way! This just can’t be! How can someone defeat me so effortlessly?” “I should be asking how someone like you became a gym leader,” replies Radic as he calls back Rezna. Radic turns to the light behind me and comments, “I told you it wouldn’t be that hard.” I just stood there in shock as Radic so easily beat the unbeatable Onyx with so little effort and the inability to see. Radic then lets out Poe, and Poe flies onto Radic’s shoulders.

    Poe then helps Radic to find me. Radic places his hand on my shoulder and comment, “Now it is your turn. Don’t worry, it shouldn’t even be that hard.” Little does he know that I haven’t even ever battled before.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
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  5. #5
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{Horosha}*~

    Chapter III: A’hoy Pier VI

    A minute ran by with neither a sound from any living creature besides my own breath, and the rolling of the waves caressing the steel hull. Crates were leaning slowly with the movements of the boat, but being smashed against a wall by an astray crate was nothing compared to mutilation by fellow men. At least they’re gone, but this isn’t the time to chance it. Then gushy sounding footprints echoed in my ears. I pulled another layer of linen over my head, hoping that it wasn’t another seaman. A hand then was placed over my head, and as the linen went flying off, a white light was in front of me.

    “Yo, it’s me Charlie!” turning my head away from the flashlight, I saw nothing more than paranoia seeping through his pores. Charlie was shaking, but then again, this ride was nothing to consider another thought about, “I was worried about ya, since I heard a clump on the floor, a rather meaty one too, but I guess you made the sailor into ‘blood pudding’. Wow, its just all ketchup colored around here, but to be honest, I am worried that you’ll gut me up like him,” I simply sighed, “No youth should ever be slain, no matter the crime or charge against them,” but Charlie whispered, “Are you gonna get out of that box? We’ve got some minutes before we need to hide, and besides I dunno if we’ll get another minute together before lady luck decides to split us loose!”

    I felt very embarrassed, and slightly annoyed. Why would this boy, dare to ask me to reveal my tainted self draped in blood? Weird lad, but I did not want to raise a commotion, for time was of the essence, “Ok, but do not feel alarmed, for I am quite a mess,” pulling my body out of the crate, the fabric draped off my body like a scarf as my nude appearance darkened by blood emerged in front of Charlie. The white light crafted a crude silhouette of myself, but the boy just blinked in shock, and then frantically turned his head around, “Eww! You should have warned me before flashing that thing!”

    “Please keep your indulged fantasies to yourself. I can’t help it my body has matured at a faster rate than yours. You know, the cruelty of age,” but my sarcastic joke did nothing to the child. I felt embarrassed, but veiled it by my own frustration. Standing around nude was nothing pleasurable, but then I grabbed onto his wool sweater, and pulled him towards me, “Where are some clothes?”

    “I don’t know! Please, just hold your horses, and maybe one of these crates has at least a pair of levi’s,” but as both our eyes met in the dim light, I saw fear, a kind of fear that takes the form of bedazzlement. Charlie just gaped in silent as shivers manipulated his flesh. I envy him, for I no longer can be idle, or childish. That side of me died eons ago, “Fine then, lets check the one behind you,” so he tried to lift the top, but it was nailed tight. However when he flashed a light to its left side, there was a gaping hole. The elements must have done it, but Charlie just put his tiny hand inside, and yanked out a women’s ebony corset, “My mom used to run around in these all the time. Adults must have weird tastes in just about everything!”

    I pulled my bundle of clothes from the linen crate, and dropped them on the ground, but then after digging through the masses of panties, and stockings the boy found an outfit most suitable for my needs. It was a long red robe, which you wrap around your body in a matter like a Greek toga. The color would be most useful in hiding the stains of blood across my pale flesh, and it would be easy to wear. Charlie handed it to me like a bed sheet, but I just wrapped it around my body, and picking up a few bobby pins on the floor, I pinioned the cloth so that it would not slip off my skinny build. Once more the youth looked very shocked.

    “My god you look so weird!”

    “This cloth is similar to the one that Masaai warriors wear, but without the beads and elaborate decorations,” I was very pleased with it, so light and non restraining, and could be worn at numerous occasions. I could tell however, that my companion did not share my excitement.

    “What’s a Masaai?”

    “A group of nomadic people from Southern Kenya, and Tanzania. Or, you could say ‘tribal Africans’, but lacking the correct label of the people or any respect,” I bent over to pick up my clothes, “I still think you look like a funky monkey. I wonder why any women would wear that, especially at a birthday party?”

    “Thus the world moves on with many unexplained things under its treads,” Charlie walked up to me, and nudged my head down, “I want you to come with me,”

    “How come?”

    “Because, your rather goofy and a murderer, but I’d be a nice to be around a actual person, and not some alien tongued soldiers tagging around 24/7. Also, I have my reasons, but they aren’t important right now,” this intrigued me, “Oh come on, do explain your ‘reasons’,” but he just backed away. Perhaps he feels lonely inside, and craves the rush of bonding that the human spirit hungers for? I do feel lonely, but I cannot help it, for I have secluded only myself from the hearts of fellow men not out of paranoia or shyness, but out of--hatred. Just then a barrage of stomping honed in upon us.

    “Bravas Charlie! Kimba fuu neesha kun’dei!”

    “I don’t want to go yet! There is still about three minutes left,” but the tattooed Shasta would not listen. He lifted Charlie up, and slung him upon those massive shoulders like a bag of potatoes. Before the shadows claimed him, I saw his eyes, and they were running with tears. Not ones of sorrow, but of longing, for we both knew neither one of us wanted to depart from each other’s company just yet. The flashlight died, and before returning to the crate, I heard Charlie’s squeaky voice, “You’re going to Slateport right? Meet us at the Himeguma hotel down by Captain Stern’s—,“ a harsh silence devoured the last of his sentence. The speakers erupted for one last time.

    “Attention all personnel, one minute until docking. I repeat, one minute until docking. All crews resume your positions, and make sure all passengers are safe, and calm upon docking. Engine crew; reduce the turbines speed to around four knots upon landing. Sweep Crews R-5 thru R-8 begin to gather up all crates and deliver them to the side hatch upon docking. Thank you for serving the S.S. Genyosha, and we will return to Portland, Oregon in three days prior to today. This is the Captains quarters reporting, and out.”

    Without a second thought, I lunged back into the linen box, and wrapped layers around me. I remained still, and a multitude of thoughts flooded my memory banks. I wondered about Charlie briefly. Whatever is happening with him, I just hope he will at least make it out of this stage of life without embracing death. My attention then focused on the carcass of Carl, and the blood around my crate, and the area. Most likely those sailors will notice what happened, and might rip open this crate. Yet, I did not have enough time to find another suitable hiding spot, and cover my tracks, so I stood my ground, and remained in this spot. Sweat empted from my pores. This may be the moment of fate that will determine my life, either death by the hands of man now, or later on without warning. I wanted the latter.

    Just then I heard a group of around 100 men march into the hull, and push around crates, some even used the steel appendages of cranes to transport the boxes. I kept still, and calm much like how Itabo is inside his pokeball. More men were coming down, and they were making their way closer to me, pushing, pulling, grunting, and cussing as the labor went on with machine like fluidly. Then I felt a quick jolt, the turbines were making their last boost, and then the freight went to a lurching halt. A banging of crates and groans of frustrated sailors echoed, and I felt a tad bit flustered by the stop. I then heart many footsteps from the upper levels. Tourists were beginning to leave. I smelt a scent of cheap bourbon and tobacco a yard away to the right. There was a sailor coming, and he was flashing a light.

    “My lawrd, men come here and catch sight o’dis carnage!”

    I flinched in horror. I’ve been noticed, and it wouldn’t be long until my presence would be notified. My mind was flooded with grim possibilities these men would do to myself, and the other stowaways once caught. Then the cargo platform opened up, and a bright light emerged in the room. The crashing of the sea, and cawing of Wingulls bellowed out to the men. I was too afraid contemplating my own demise.

    “What a bugger way to die, eh? Poor chap, but no pokemon would do such a thing,” a random sailor stated. The crates stopped moving, and more men came to the death site, “The wounds are too uneven, and brutal. A pokemon kills with precision and with clean, non-wasted blows,” two men looked around, and saw a good number of tarnished crates with splattered goods, “Whoever done it, must have been some sociopath, or so’thang like dat,” the sailors began to craft their own rumors about who could of done it, and around five of them marched to the shattered crates with crowbars and tools at hand, to disable the would be marauder. As they filtered through the tattered clothing, and juices of canned fruit with shards of glass in the jelly, a elderly voice of Tom spoke to the agrevated men.

    “Me mate Carl o’ the skully slice ye up like ham did he?”

    “How do ya know he’s Carl suhr?” a fellow sailor asked, “Look at ah his eyes wonch’ya? They be innocent looking without a hatred in de world. Only he’d be owner of them. I know from me own time with him,” the men looked very sincere, “Please, tell us more!”

    “Aye I’ll spin me a’yarn about him. Year back ‘ago my daughter Molly had thee tonsillitis n’ they swell like tan colored buoy’s and the misses n’ eye could do nothing to calm it down. So we took her to a doc n’ all he say was ‘surgery’, but we had not o’ dime to pay. So, I spoke my dilemma to Carl, but de lad gave me his holiday bonus to save her life from de cursed tonsils. Molly is livin’ an’ growing like a weed thanks to his kindness,” Tom preached.

    Another sailor began to speak, “Carl helped me learn to tie knots to keep the lifeboats from getting all loose,” more men yelled, “He listened to our problems without avail!” and I heard a novel’s worth of praises for the fallen sailor.

    The men sounded like they were sobbing for I heard a multitude of sniffles and sobs. I too felt the tangs of guilt prick against my skin, and wanted to sob for I was responsible for the slaying of such a gentle soul. Yet, fate brings us to one another for grim purposes no soothsayer could ever foretell, “If I find de man, I’ll gut ‘im like a whale, and his arse be fed to the Sharpedo’s!”

    “Yeah, we’ll get that bloak for sure!” the mob mentality grew only larger as roars from the sailor intensified as they began o frantically scan the area. The group of five reported they found no trace of the murderer, but the men kept searching for any clues. A young man caught sight of my crate. I knew since I felt his depressed eyes press against my soul, an eerie feeling none of the less.

    “Guys I found a suspicious crate with lots of blood all over, and a popped top!”

    I felt like they lynched me at that moment in time. For a crowd of enraged men began to touch, and inspect my hiding place. I could feel the pressure of rage waiting to be unloaded upon my body, but I did not budge. As I felt the linen being tossed off and the gibberish of cheering from the sailors, there was a large explosion followed by M-16 gunfire.

    “Attention all personnel! Team Aqua is attacking the pier, and is attempting to storm the ship. Man your ground, and prepare any necessary equipment to drive then away. The police will be here in a half hour due to team Magma problems, but we must not let them acquire our ship. Use any means at all costs to protect the passengers, and cargo. Any man caught trying to escape due to this massive turn of events will be shot on sight! This is admiral Ducof reporting and out,” boomed the speakers.

    The sailors began to scream, and run towards the cargo platform. A dozen ran to the engine room to pick up some rifles, and other ran out with crowbars, and welding torches in hand. Yet I wondered if these Team Aqua guys are my saviors, or only adding kerosene to the bonfires of life? I poked my head out to see the sailors running around frantically. More gunshots went off, and there were blood-curdling screams. I climbed out of the crate slowly, and ducked behind a cargo platform loaded with boxes. With Itabo’s premiere ball in hand, I closed my eyes, undid the braids in my hair, and slowly entered the fray.
    Last edited by SulcataIxlude; 8th March 2004 at 04:30 AM.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
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  6. #6
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 3: Mine Under Matter


    I look at Radic with a puzzled expression. Radic remains motionless and then remembered he is blind. I warily dare to utter, “You…you think I can do it?” “Why not? This leader is barely even a push over. Onyx is relying too much on the natural characteristics of his Pokémon and he has too strong of a reliance on his Pokémon against normal Pokémon. I personally am surprised that a nobody like myself was able to compete so half-heartedly and still win,” replied Radic with a disgusted face towards Onyx.

    I looked at Radic innocently, and informed, “But I haven’t even won a battle before.” “If I can beat him, you should have no problem,” answered Radic as he attempts to walk behind me. I look back at Radic and add, “But I only have Casanova.” “That’s all you will need,” comments Radic as if it was obvious. I turn to Casanova and see him in his constant resting position, his cross-legged meditation position. As I begin to speak, Casanova looks up at me and then begins to stand. Before I even get to ask, Casanova nods and walks into the arena. As I follow Casanova into the arena, I take a gulp and begin, “Hi…uh…er…Onyx?”

    Onyx stood up and bellowed, “What do you want, little runt?” I stood helplessly still while Casanova sits into his meditative position. Radic suggests, “Go on Kixque. It isn’t that hard.” “I…uh…I want to…” I stumble. Onyx laughs a beckoning laugh that echoes through the stadium. Onyx shouts, “So you too think you can beat me? I don’t know what your friend did, but there is no way I’ll let it happen again. Although you may be someone from this town, I won’t go easy on you!”

    I look at Casanova and inquire, “Are you ready, buddy?” Casanova tilts his head slightly forward and pulls it back. Onyx then commands in a boastful voice, “Since the previous match has knocked out all of my Pokémon, except one, we’ll make this a one-on-one match.” “That will work for me,” I innocently reply. Onyx reaches down to grab a pokéball. Onyx then orders, “Solrock, time for us to regain our pride!” The brilliant form of Solrock then appears.

    I shield my eyes from the light until my eyes adjust to the Pokémon’s radiant form. I look down at Casanova and carefully command, “Casanova, do something. I know, ‘meditate’.” Casanova just stares at the Solrock, and before my very eyes, an aura begins to surround Casanova. Onyx rolls his head and cracks a few bones in the process. He then orders, “Solrock, use your ‘tackle’ attack, now!” Solrock thrusts itself through the air and into Casanova.

    I call out, “Casanova, are you alright?” Casanova continues to remain in his position. I suggest, “Casanova, use your ‘calm mind’ ability.” Casanova continues to sit there, but he tenses up and the aura glows stronger. Onyx laughes and comments, “You can’t win if you don’t attack. Solrock, ‘tackle’ that puny runt again.” Solrock obediently thrusts itself at Casanova again. As the Solrock collides with Casanova, I cover my eyes and bear not to see what is happening.

    I then realized that my opponent was right. Although he may be the gym leader of my hometown, but right now, Onyx is my opponent. This is just something I did not want to do. I just did not want to take my opponent’s advice. I might as well take his advice, but I don’t know what Casanova can do. I’ve never used him before, and I don’t know what he can do to attack.

    I look at Casanova and cry, “Casanova, use a powerful ‘karate chop’!” “Solrock, use ‘harden’ before that Pokémon tries anything,” replies Onyx. Solrock begins to stiffen itself, when Casanova releases an intense wave of energy that knocks everyone to the ground, including Radic. I begin climbing up and finally notice that Radic had fallen. I turn around and begin to walk over to Radic and Onyx comments, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” “Why not?” I ask as I take another step. Onyx informs, “We are in the middle of a match. You are not allowed to leave the arena until the end of the match.” “But Radic is hurt,” I growl. Radic replies, “Don’t worry about me, Kixque. I’m used to it. Just give me a moment and I’ll be back on my feet.”

    I take a few steps towards the arena and finally catch a glimpse of Solrock after the result of energy released from Casanova. I noticed that Solrock was having trouble staying in the air. I comment, “Great job Casanova. I think one more hit will do that Pokémon in. Think you can do it.” Casanova simply nods. Onyx roars, “That was a nice trick, kid, but that won’t work again. I won’t even give you a chance to do it again. Solrock, we are going to quit playing games and go for this win full force!”

    I suddenly feel a lot of sweat appearing on my neck at one instance. What does he mean by “playing games”? Can Casanova take another hit? He’s already taken two hits head on already. My throat is tightening fast, and the cotton is taking everything in my mouth so quickly. My hands are shaking feverishly. Will I be able to make it through this match?

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  7. #7
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{Horosha}*~

    Chapter IV: The Clash

    The ear shattering sound of freshly used shell casings echoed from outside. I caught sight of a sailor whom had a fresh raspberry colored wound on his left shoulder, and his arm was flailing like a Magikarp. I crouched behind a stack of loose crates only a yard away from the man. He did not pay heed to my clunky footsteps, and I did not give it a second thought, “Who could these team aqua beings pay homage to? Or more importantly, why do they need this freight when there are countless others in the same pier?” Just then, a pair of sailors clad with ammo, and Winchester rifles loaded some shot into the barrels of their firearms. They then blindly rushed outside with gun’s a blazing. Blood curdled screams, and the splattering of fluid followed instantaneously.

    “Resisting us is futile! Team Aqua will do whatever it would take to increase the world’s ocean space. Even if it means you all will die,” an edgy sounding voice boomed from a megaphone. My eyes noticed that the sailor that was nearby fled, but to my left 20 yards away a man clad in a blue n’ white t-shirt, blue jeans, a cerulean bandana, and a tiny cross bone insignia etched in the middle of the rag was sprinting amongst the crates. A .45 colt handled from his right hand. Then, a sailor caught sight of the bandit, and tried to gore him with a harpoon. Without hesitation, the aqua unloaded a round at his left cheek, blowing it clear open. Fragments of teeth, and muscle mixed with blood spewed from the wound as the dead sailor flung to the ground. Alerted by the blow within the hull, another sailor saw the carnage, and cried, “O’ Jim why oh why ye have ta die?!”

    Another bullet silenced the friend, “Stupid fucks,” the punk aqua muttered as he returned outside. More screams and blasts rang out in sync for a minute, so when there was no sailors stampeding down from the maintenance rooms I pressed my body against the left wall, and moved to the cargo hull’s exit. Each and every step, the outside light shimmered with fever, but the chorus of death grew louder and more personal.

    “This day reminds me so much of when Kenshiro died,” my mind trailed off for a second reflecting on that agonizing day. Only a step away, I placed my hands on the corner of the opening, and pulled myself like a worm. Raw sunlight was too much for my bloodshot eyes to handle. It has been nearly months since I’ve last gazed upon natural lighting. So I put my head back in, and a bullet flew past me, “Thank goodness for my temporary disability,” as I squinted my eyes, and loomed over the corner once again. Even though my eyes had a very difficult time adjusting to the merciless light, I could pick out the faint shape of the wharf right in front of me, many human figured blurs scrambling around, a small jetty ready to pick up passengers, a multitude of boxes, and even a crane. My eyes began to sting I resorted back into the shadows, and slowly opened them. Just then, men began to leak from the maintenance rooms. I slumped behind the western corner of a metal crate.

    “Pesky vermin, don’t leave one standing,” the sailor fired off a round, “nobody will ever get the Devon goods,” but then his throat blew up causing his head to fly off, and neck to spew out fountains of blood. The four other men, sprinkled with blood, ignored the fresh death, and yelped while charging down the wharf. I quickly stood up, and stepped outside. A burst of irritation battered my pupils, but in a few seconds my eyes adjusted perfectly regardless of the minute color blindness. A savage battle commenced as hoods dressed in blue wielded M-16’s and machetes assaulted the valiant but seedy sailors with their rifles and crowbars!

    “We’ll never give ye scurvy dawgs no jewels,” the sailor’s crowbar clashed with an aqua machete, “Shut up retard, just back down and you’ll live”, but the sailor overpowered the grunt and tossed him into the ocean. I equipped my switchblade, and rushed down the ramp sidestepping from bullets, and the blades from both parties. One bulky sailor stared at me coldly, and announced, “Hey guys look a’dah funny boy. I bet dat’s Carl’s murderer,” a mob of colleges shifted their attention towards myself, and fear escalated like a orgasm, “Yo, we got something to say about ye ‘performance’ with our friend,” then they started to unload heated led towards me. With catlike agility, I ducked, swayed, and even performed the splits to elude a bullet from skimming my head. The sailors were furious, and a few had tears in their eyes not from the current battle, but due to my previous actions. One of them stepped up, and swung his crowbar like a mace towards my forehead, but in a split second I kicked it up, and head butted his nose. The cartilage broke, and blood oozed out. None of the men wanted to be sullied by some scrawny stowaway.

    A tiny fleet of twenty jet skis with Aqua members rammed into the wharf, and like cockroaches they swarmed up the posts and planks. They started to swing their bowie knives, and machetes at the group of sailors that surrounded me. Blood, and tears splattered all around as both groups of men clashed into an orgy of violence. Taking advantage of the situation, I knocked an elderly aqua into the water, and nimbly jabbed my blade into one wielding a semi-automatic. His wounded body smacked against the rotting wood, and while pushing through the battlers, and parrying their metal I caught sight of a motorboat of the vermin, sniping off civilians. This ceaseless violence only pissed me off even further. The cold screaming of women, and the newly arrival of riot officers clad with grenade launchers and plastic shields only added to the chaos. A motorboat drove up to the main dock, and then a group of the aqua began to lunge at the officers, cutting through their shields, as the reckless blast of plastic bullets and tear gas canisters did nothing to phase the tidal wave of aquas. Some aqua had their chests blown open exposing rotting organs, and blood painted the docks, but many more replaced the fallen, and showed no regard to their corpses.

    I made it to the stack of boxes next to the crane, and squatted between both bulky objects. I held my switchblade nervously, and waited for the masses to reduce their numbers, so I could escape this charade. Yet, looking upon the savage, rage caked faces of the men from a safe distance brief thoughts clouded my senses. What could of drove so many people to their untimely deaths, or most importantly, why would a group of marauders be so adamant about discovering a mere package? I am sure it is not of any importance, or rarity, and the item inside could be easily acquired at any merchants dwelling. But the thought of all those untold stories and experiences, lost for all eternity, due to the hells nestled on these men by the greed of a few individuals. Tis is the biggest irony of humanity.

    “Aye culley, yo sneak ‘broad like some bulge rat won’t do ye no good anymore. ‘specially raising a ruckus amongst me crew ‘n thinking we don’t notice ye,” Tak unloaded a clip in my direction as I was standing up to catch sight of the man speaking at me. A sharp pang of heat and pain ran across my right shoulder, and turning around to notice what happened, I howled in pain like a she-wolf. My left hand covered and pinched the wound like mad, as warm blood gushed out like a dyke. I kneeled down barely containing my tears, and my shoulder went into compulsions twitching and causing blood to splash all around my face and the crates, “Serve ye right ‘n jes sit still for ye gonna meet davy jones in a squalls minute!” I closed my eyes, and did not bother to put up any defense. My fate was sealed, no use trying to evade it.

    Just then a grunt swung an oar at Tak in a harsh swinging motion. The mariner swirled his harpoon like a helicopter blade, and impaled the man in the bladder. Crumbling down while holding onto the wound, the aqua then got a nice bullet imbedded into his forehead. Tak looked irritated, since I still was lingering and whimpering silently. To the east a saffron explosion of fire and smoke shock the dock, someone bombed the main tourist building. Debris was flung in all direction, and frantic screaming of children and adults were united in an undying frenzy. More aqua propelled themselves onto the dock, as the riot police could not handle the immense pressure from the gunshots and clashing of the terrorist mariners. Fortunately majority of the tourist manage to escape to the safety of Slateport, but I saw plenty of charred corpses near the tourist building. A lot of corpses bobbed up and down in the ocean, and the waters were tinted red. Tak aimed the barrel of his magnum at my head, “Say ye prayers swine for t’day ain’t gonna be the day neither hell or heaven wants ye pitiful self!” A full force of aquas began to push forward to the cargo hull massacring the last standing sailors of the dock, and jetties loaded with the malicious men began to race near the dock unloading them and slicing off the ropes that the lifeboats were bounded to. Tak was tackled by an obtuse aqua, and fending him off fist-to-fist, I felt bodies begin smacked against the cargo boxes. I took a look behind me and saw a tiny lifeboat with a black tarp. Pretending to look like I was murdered I stood up and slumped into it, causing the boat to jitter. Placing the tarp over my body I remained still and quite, hearing sailors crying, and splashing into the water. A few even muttered shanties, but many more went down cussing and blazing their rifles in a desperate attempt to kill the horde of aquas. As I lied there like a corpse, I was afraid my lame attempt to camouflage amongst the chaos would fail. Yet, nobody noticed my existence. More gunshots rang from the freight, and I figured that the aquas would command full position of the transport. My shoulder still shivered, but I ripped a piece of my cloth, and bided it to halt the bleeding. Small rivets of blood still poured, and my body felt sick.


    It was nearly dusk when the carnage ended, so I slowly pulled the tarp away from my face, and I saw a full crew of aquas on the deck patrolling with AK-47’s close at hand. More corpses littered the water. Majority of them by the ship were dressed in civilians clothes. Some had their faces blown to pieces, while plenty more had slash wounds on their neck, or wrists. A large flock of wingull’s and carvanah’s have been busy since the sky was literally white and yellow fins were poking out of the waves. The scavenging critters were having the larges smorgasbord of their life as faces, flesh, and skin was simply devoured. Not a pleasing sight, but nothing I could of done to avert the genocide that happened today. I climbed back on the wharf, slowly stepping over the remains of organs and bodies as I walked towards the dock. I picked up my switchblade, and placed it back in my left hobnail boot. On the dock, there was no sign of human life. The only new addition to what happened was the ashes from the tourist building, the wailing of fire engines, and the road block that prevented entry to Pier VI. I decided to rest up in a warehouse, until the morning light brushed my body. However, I wasn’t surprised that no police officers were investigating the area, too many aquas were armed and guarding the area very closely.

    To the left of the main entrance to the pier, there was a football field sized warehouse, and the hangar-sized door was opened wide. Walking in, the dim florescent lights revealed a metropolis of crates, and foodstuffs. I absorbed the settings of this gloomy looking room for a moment, but then a pale hand covered my lips, and my body was pressed against another man’s body. I heard the click of a pistol’s clip holder, and then the warm barrel was pressed against my right temple, “Keep still und you’ll might get to see moi flawless face…”

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
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  8. #8
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 4: Bang of a Life Time


    I begin feeling the pain that a Hariyama feels when they perform ‘Belly Drum’. I can’t stand the way my heart is bouncing like that and have no idea how this maximizes the Hariyama’s strength. This pain is making it hard for me to even stand. This sort of reminds me of that feeling of asking Altaecia out. I can even feel my face as red as a Slugma. Why couldn’t this at least be as easy as asking her out? I take in a deep breath while Radic calls out, “Come on Kixque. Just go for it. He’s just trying to make you afraid of a Mareep.” As I look at Radic, a strange smile spreads across his face. Strange of him to be smiling like that, but he was right. Maybe with this being my first time and Onyx is trying to use that to make me crumble and forfeit before he losses. I need to stay strong like a Machamp. Stay strong for me, and strong for Casanova too.

    Onyx roars, “Give it up kid, while you still can. I haven’t even seen a Charizard’s flame grow that red!” “No way! If I want to become one of the greatest, I can’t back down, I just can’t,” I hastily replied. Onyx laughs and responds, “Suit yourself kiddo. Solrock, let’s show him what a real Pokémon can do. Use your ‘Confusion’ attack now!” “Casanova, go with a punch,” I hastily reply in hopes of Casanova getting his attack through before the Solrock does. Solrock’s body begins undulating while Casanova leaps forward with a frigid, blue streak from his hand. As Casanova’s hand collides with Solrock, Solrock’s psychic powers force Casanova across the arena and right into my stomach.

    I cough as I set Casanova down, back in the arena. As both Pokémon and I struggle to a standing position, Onyx growls, “Give it up kid. You don’t have a chance against me. However, since you have sent Solrock to this state, I won’t let you get any further. Solrock, go for…” Casanova’s eyes widen as he runs after the closest pile of rocks. Onyx finishes, “…the big bang! Self-Destruct now!” “Casanova!” I cry as the Solrock’s body grows brightly.

    The shockwave from the Solrock’s self-destruct knocked me to the wall behind me. As I pull myself up to a standing position, I try to find Radic. I see the bottom of his leg hanging into the room. I guess he was knocked out of the doors of the arena. That just leaves one thing left for me to check on, and the one I least want to see the aftermath of such a detonation.

    I know I set him down right there. Then, in the middle of what Onyx was saying, Casanova started running that way. I then followed the path as straight as the Swellow flies. I find the pile of rocks that Casanova was running towards, and shout, “Casanova! Are you all right! Casanova!” As I turn my head around the rock and see Casanova. I suddenly become speechless at Casanova’s condition.

    Casanova walks to the other side of the pile of rocks and smiles with his hands on his hips. Onyx’s eyes widen as his mouth drops. He utters, “How…how…how can it still be standing? Solrock self-destructed for nothing? That means…I…I…l-o-s-t. No way!” I pat Casanova on the back and comment, “Splendid job Casanova. This is all your victory.” I walk over to Radic, whom has pulled himself up to a standing position by now. Radic looks over towards my footsteps and comments, “I told you that you could do it.”

    “Let’s go home and celebrate!” I exclaim. Radic sighs and reminds, “Aren’t you forgetting some-thing?” “Oh yeah! Onyx, since you are a gym leader, and we both defeated you, we would like our gym badges,” I order as I turn towards Onyx. Onyx tosses them like garbage towards us and shoos us away. I go over to pick them up and place Radic’s badge in his hand. I then walk out of the door with Radic as I proudly show off my new Stone Badge.

    We both head over to Radic’s house since it is on the way to my home. I suggest, “Well, now that we both won our badges, I think it is that time.” “If you want to go, that is your decision,” Radic replies as he rests his arm on the side of his home. I respond, “Come on Radic, it’ll be a great adventure.” “Why would you want me to come along? I would only get in the way,” Radic answers evasively. I pause for a moment and remind Radic, “But there is so much more you can teach me. I also don’t want to travel alone, it just isn’t as much fun.” Radic sighs and finally comments, “Fine, if you really want someone like me to come with you, fine. Just let me get some rest and meet me tomorrow morning.” “All right, see you tomorrow Radic,” I reply as I walk home.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
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  9. #9
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    ~*{Horosha}*~
    Chapter V: Enter the Aqua

    “I don’t know why somebody like yourself would do snooping around here, but it makes no difference now,” his bohemian accent cut through the stale air like ice, “My name is Hans, but herr Hans to you,” he turned me body in front of his merciless face, “Und now tell ver ist the package?”

    “I do not know where your ‘package’ is at. I stowed away to get to this forsaken port,” but he slapped my cheeks rather harshly, “I don’t care if you had to whore the first mate, or gut tuna, joost tell me ver de package is at!” I glared at his frantic gray eyes, but Hans slapped me again. A tiny bit of blood leaked from my chapped lips, “Dis package vill be a asset to moi team, but you aren’t cooperating… fine, if I tell you about why we need der package, then I might get an answer,” he cracked the vertebrae in his neck, “Besides you’ll ve dead before dawn, so no veal lost ya,” his grip intensified. My body was numb from all those months at sea, with barely any physical activity to strengthen my muscles, so I fatigued without any real effort. I could not retaliate, or slip through the German’s clutch, so I nodded.

    “Der ist a submarine in this town, called Jacques VI, in honor of the famous French oceanographer. Our battalion leader, Thero, vas sent by Archie to acquire a piece of technology that allows the submarine to endure oceanic pressure in dept’s over 50,000 leagues. Why herr Archie vant’s de mechanism, that is no business for a grunt like myself, but it must be for the sake of the world to raise the sea levels by 75%,” Hans took a second to crack his neck once more, the sound was very grotesque, “Now your turn to answer. Where ist the package!” roared Hans. My eye slammed shut after smelling the dampening scent of cheap tobacco and scotch on his breath. Without hesitation I muttered, “I do not know, or heard a thing about it.”

    Hans let go of me, but then smashed my head with the butt of his howzer, and forced me onto my knees. I attempted to pull out my switchblade, but a mixture of the throbbing pain on top my head, and the convulsion my right arm had due to the previous gunshot, it was not worth the pain to equip myself. He stood a foot away, but had the barrel of the menacing pistol in front of my lowered head. Everything became silent, and I took these last few seconds to whisper a futile prayer, “Mother, and Kenshiro I failed you both. Now I will no longer be a burden upon anyone forevermore,” then the trigger clicked. No bullet came out. Hans frantically tried again, and again to silence me with lead. No use, it was empty. He tossed the worthless firearm onto the cement floor, and from his belt, he yanked out a pokeball. Slamming it onto the ground, a blackish wolf with amber colored eyes emerged in front of me in a flash of light.

    “Schwarzer-tod, erschlagen der boy!” and the Poochyena ran at me with tremendous speed. I stood up, and sidestepped from the mutt. Pulling out Itabo’s premiere ball, I sent out my most loyal acolyte, my only hope. With a flash of rainbow colored light, the bulky silver colored cicada twitched, and caught sight of the Poochyena with his mint colored eyes, “Itabo, now is the time to slay the villain! Use a scratch attack when the time is right!” and Itabo lifted up his left claw, anticipating a blow. Hans laughed, and pointed at Itabo, “Schwarzer-tod the little bug von’t be a hassle for you. Tackle it into a wall, und rip it to shreds with your canines,” and the loyal wolf tightened up his body, and began to charge at Itabo. Chirping a little, Itabo raised his left claw an inch right before the Poochyena made physical contact. Swinging it down like a hammer, the wolf’s snout was scratched, and it wimpled like a puppy. Then turning its head slightly, Schwarzer-tod made a snap with his jaws. Itabo scotched back an inch, and landed down another scratch.

    “Itabo, you are doing a tremendous job. It’s all bark, but no back to support its threats! Log more scratches at its body without delay,” I lifted up my left arm like Itabo, and sliced the air much like he did to the dog. Schwarzer-tod looked a little bit depressed, but Hans pulled out a leather whip, and cracked it in the air. Instantly he sat like a statue anticipating the next order, “Bite the bug without stop! Go crazy, or whatever, but do not stop biting even for a second!” and the Poochyena leaped at Itabo, performed a forward flip, and managed to land a head butt on Itabo, pressing his head into the ground. Bouncing back up, Itabo pulled his petite body to the right, barely missing the wolf’s rotting canines. Then Itabo swung his right claw like a scythe, and nicked his side. A tiny bit of fur flew off like confetti, but then Poochyena turned around and bit the claw. Pressing its teeth deep into the soft exoskeleton, Schwarzer-tod tried to rip off the appendage, but fortunately Itabo was not as frail as he appeared, and tossed the mutt into some crates to the right. Crashing against the wood upon its backside, Schwarzer-tod yelped in agony upon hitting the cement. He slowly rose his head, and began to perform another tackle. Itabo briefly took a look at my hands, and imitating my motions, he prepared to counter another tackle with a well-placed scratch. I could see there was no rashness or haste in Itabo’s battle tactics. He simply waited patiently without feeling pangs of paranoia. The Poochyena on the other hand, looked very nervous and desperate to please his dour master. It looked like this wasn’t the first time the wolf was beaten around like a doll.

    “Das Arschloch! You vill suffer for dat blow! Schwarzer-tod now use the boxes as springs to volley you onto the pest. Do not slip again, or else your going to pay alongside the boy,” Hans’s harsh vocals and whip cracking made Schwarzer-tod’s ears droop slightly, but he mustered his remaining energy, and kick jumped off a crate of fruit towards Itabo, whom was about a yard away. A madness flicked off his eyes, a carnal rage built up and was about to be unloaded on my partner. Yet, Itabo stood his ground, and then leaped back at the moment Schwarzer-tod landed on the ground, missing another chance to do damage. Making a 180-degree turn, Itabo swung his pudgy claws in a X-strike fashion at the wolf, but he leaped forward, and launched a hind leg kick on Itabo’s face. Flying across the air like a football, Itabo crashed into a rotting fruit crate, and the wood broke off spilling its content all over the floor. Itabo blink for a second, and twitched his head, “Czee--,” I was stiff, anticipating the next blow much like my Nincada. Standing amongst the fruit, he fluttered his thin jade wings, and looked ready to strike again, “Zer Gute Schwarzer-tod. Go bite the bug, und then after its dead kill the child!”

    The Poochyena was nearly taxed in energy. He began to pant crazily, and hobbled a bit due to injuries on his back. But disregarding the pain, he growled fiercely. When Hans snapped his whip, the Poochyena galloped, and swayed amongst the fruit, “How will Itabo deal with the hampered environment? Perhaps I should issue a command, but he looks very determined with whatever he has planned. Good luck my friend,” as I thought to myself. Itabo pressed his belly against the cold concrete, and once Schwarzer-tod was in range, he slid his body underneath the mutt, and leaped onto his underside. As he dug his claws into the thick fur, Itabo began to pull his thin proboscis, and jab it into his heart! Pumping out warm blood, Itabo greedily absorbed the hound’s fluids as Schwarzer-tod frantically leaped, and rolled all over the rotting fruits, smearing both their bodies with organic juices and peels. Itabo paid no attention, and concentrated on his meal. Then Schwarzer-tod slipped on a banana peel, and slammed into a metal crate, knocking him out cold. Itabo released his proboscis from his chest, and then sloshing his abdomen around, he plunged his claws into the hapless wolf’s right side like daggers. It released an exhausted grunt before becoming silent once more. A tiny fountain of blood spewed from the wound, but Itabo licked up the excess blood, and then crawled towards me. He was far more bloated than normal, but this was however his first proper meal in months.

    “Sia czee!” he rose his claws like a boxer, and leaped up like a puppy. Recalling the fallen hound, Hans flipped me off, and snapped his whip towards my head, “This is not how things were supposed to go—but don’t get your hopes up child. I vill kill you soon, mark my words zum bastard erklaten,” pulling out a chaff grenade, he yanked off the pin, and flung it between Itabo and me. A bright yellow light flushed our eyes, as I heard the hasty footsteps of the enraged man running out towards the dock.

    After a few seconds, the warehouse returned to normal, and I took this moment to inspect Itabo’s wounds. Minus a small bruise on his forehead, and a series of bite marks on his claws, Itabo looked totally fine. I patted his head, but swiftly he turned his attention on the mashed fruits. My stomach began to roar, “I believe we both are desperate for nourishment. Come now, we will make it to a restaurant soon that serves something other than stale biscuits and water,” but he did not heed my words. Sitting down near Itabo I awaited for another aqua to come over, and finish us both off for defeating a fellow grunt in battle. Nobody came.

    “Today has been a nightmare, but at least it is drawing to a close,” as the evening sky appeared in front of me, Itabo continued to finish off the fruit. Returning after scourging a handful of splattered apples, and moldy oranges, my companion rested upon my lap, and instantly fell asleep. I too felt labored, but I remained awake for another minute, admiring the starry sky.

    “Kenshiro, I can tell you've spared us from the iron maiden of fate… Thank you for your assistance, but there are plenty more worth candidates for your charity. Yet, may your soul rest in peace, far from the nagging torment of physical life here on earth,” closing my eyes, I began to drift into the vortex of dreams.
    Last edited by SulcataIxlude; 8th March 2004 at 07:37 AM.

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  10. #10
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 5: Magma Boils Down to…


    I look out the window, for this will be the last time for a long time that I will see the sunrise from here. I didn’t know I was this eager to begin, since Casanova is still sleeping like a Snorlax. I guess I better start putting my things together, after how late I was to Radic’s match yesterday. He just wakes up too early I guess. Where did I put my backpack, anyways?

    As I finish stuffing my backpack, Casanova wakes up. I call to him, “Come on Casanova, let’s get our last home cooked meal.” Casanova shrugs and follows me down the stairs. The platter of food was definitely a nice wake up call for my stomach. I large plate of waffles, Grumpig style bacon, and milk was just what my stomach was craving.

    I say my goodbyes and then leave for Radic’s house. When I get there, I found out that I was the early Tailow. Radic was still fumbling around trying get ready. I decided to sit out in front until Radic stopped making noise inside, which gave Casanova plenty of time to meditate.

    When things finally calmed down, I finally knocked on the door. Radic opened the door with Poe sitting on his shoulder. I question, “It sounds like you are ready, are you?” “Yeah, I think so. I hope you didn’t wait too long,” replied Radic. I gave a strange look and asked, “How did you know we were hear? We didn’t even make any noise.” Radic points in Casanova’s direction and explains, “Although you are new to this, you’ll get to learn that a Meditite releases a strong aura while it’s meditating. When you begin to feel it, you’ll understand.”

    I merely give a puzzled look, and then watch Radic put on his favorite Mareep backpack. After putting the backpack straps on, he feels the Mareep cotton straps and shows a warm smile. Poe flies back onto Radic’s shoulders and I suggest, “Let’s go start our adventure.” Radic nods as we both begin to walk South towards Petalburg Woods.

    As we near the exit, I take one look back at my hometown and shout, “Next time you see me, I’ll be as good as Radic.” “That’s a pretty low goal,” scruffs Radic. I turn around to begin heading South when a large wave people wearing red rush across the bridge. I grab Radic’s hand and rush away from the center of the road, while shouting, “Radic, let’s run! Team Magma is coming!” “Team Magma? Is that a part of Team Rocket?” ponders Radic as he follows the direction I pull. As I continue running out of the way, I inquire, “Who is Team Rocket?” “If you don’t know, then they must not be a part of Team Rocket,” replies Radic.

    The guy in front of the fleet of red, Maxie, orders “All right men! We have reports that there are Team Aqua members here! Outer wings, I want you to search the town. The rest of you, I want you to continue following me. All of us will meet up in the base at 17:00 tomorrow. Let’s move!” The flanks follow their issued commands in an instant.

    Before Radic and I are able to get out of their way, three grunts chase directly after us. My instincts force me to just continue running directly away from them, completely throwing Radic’s balance off guard. By the time he had regained his balance, the three grunts caught up to us. The middle grunt caught up to us and ordered, “You are to come with us for observation. If you resist, we will bring you back by force.” Radic looks toward my hand and suggests, “Since they want us to fight, I’ll take the right and middle ones. You take the one on the left.” “You want to fight? So be it, go Numel!” commands the middle grunt. The grunt on the left orders, “Come on, Poocheyna!” “I need your help too, Zubat!” adds in the grunt on the right.

    I turn to Radic and inquire, “Are you sure we can do this Radic?” Radic shrugs and comments, “Does it even look like we have much of a choice in the matter anyways?” “Yeah, I guess there really isn’t any other option for us,” I reply. Radic commands, “Chirin go for the Zubat! Dipsy, go after the Slugma! Poe, please be my eyes.” “Casanova, we’re going after the Poocheyna,” I remind Casanova.
    The Numel comes out with a distant look of unawareness. The Poocheyna comes out with a fierce snarl across its lips. The Slugma comes out with a bursting face of anger. Chirin comes out with a big smile and wags her tail like a joyful puppy. Dipsy comes out, squinting through his square glasses.

    Casanova walks towards the Poocheyna with his hands put up in a fighting manner. I turn to Radic, inquiring, “Here we go, think we have what it takes?”

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    ~*{Horosha}*~
    Chapter VI: Frolic thru Slateport

    A flash of white light flickered in my eyelids. Daylight has arisen once more. My slumber was not occupied by dreams for once in several years. This surprised me, and slightly comforted my aching heart. For memories of my lofty childhood neglected to taunt me. I nodded my head down to catch sight of Itabo. He was still snoring, and his wings were fluttering slightly. Feeling his heart beat against my chest was very comforting. It made me feel almost human.

    Luck must have spared us in honor of this hellish pilgrimage. No Aqua’s came around to patrol this warehouse since our encounter with Hans. Still, I felt he would reemerge in the future when we least expect it. Slowly, I stroked Itabo’s tinfoil smooth skin. At least he was still alive, unlike my long-condemned loved ones. Now that we’ve arrived in Slateport, the most logical thing to do was to find an adequate shelter, or at least a meal and proper bathing facilities. I nudged Itabo gently, but he still slumbered. So, I slipped his premiere ball onto my right hand, and place the button about three inches away from him. Without an interruption, a thin red laser sprung out, and absorbed my insect companion, “I’ll see you in a few hours,” and I stood up. My knee’s popped slightly. Then picking up my bundle of dirty clothing, I strolled passed the rotting fruit. Flies were already swarming, and enjoying their orgy of filth. Making my way to the left corner of the main door, I peered over the corner to make sure the coast was clear. Surprisingly, the Aqua’s were no longer around. Neither were the corpses of both sailor and pirate.

    “Perhaps the Aquas found what they were looking for, and wanted to make their retreat clean as possible. Or maybe the police had their hand in maintaining the sight?” my mind pondered. Still, I took this situation like a grain of salt. At least one obstacle was cleared away. Walking down the pier, I saw a mass of newly arrive passengers crawling of out the massive freight’s decks. Some of them reminded me of the living dead rather than first class voyagers. Yet there was no security following them, nor a single bodyguard. This day was starting off in a peculiar note, “Am I still asleep?” I wondered.

    I pushed myself into the line, and nobody seemed to care. One man behind me clad in a stuff business suit sniffed his nostrils at me in disgust. Even though I wasn’t wearing Armani, this cloak will have to do till I retrieve proper clothes, or any consideration to this man’s disgust. The line shuffled to the main gate. I began to worry that a ticket master would scan my body in search for proper papers to enter the city. Yet there was not an authority in sight. My paranoia was expelled in an instant. Slowly, this caterpillar of human bodies pushed through the concrete arches, and with every step the boisterous clattering of city life battered my eardrums.

    Finally, the line dispersed, and before me their lied a caravan of market stalls sewn across the narrow cobblestone roads. My eyes caught sight of a variety of colors. Fresh brown hues to milky cheeks darted from street to street clad in colors that would make the rainbow envious. There were sailors lying next to the pier gate gripping onto bottles of whiskey and peculiar brown bags. They were too stoned, or enduring a hangover to pick on my appearance, “Slateport, the city of deals. Is it a sanctuary for those fleeing from inner perils, or just hell with a marketplace?” just then a Muslim trader pulled me close to this stand. Lying across the table were cloves of nutmeg, and belts of ammunition, “Hello hello! Please, take a seat and take time to sample my merchandise,” he forced me onto a rickety stood. Instantly, he placed a round yellow piece of taffy in my right hand, “Praise be to Allah. Now, is there anything here that cries out, please take me home with you?” the red overtone from the see-through canopy overhead made the items appear to be drenched in blood. Politely I placed the treat into his hands, and stood up, “I am but a poor man seeking only the basic necessities in life. In another time I would be honored to purchase some nutmeg for a grand feast. But I must take my leave,” I looked into his honey colored eyes, “Allah u akbar,” and turned away before my guilt could give power to his speechless face. Before I could make it past the chicken stall right next to his, the trader exclaimed, “There is a hotel, the pavilion, a few blocks away in the Hangman district. Tell them Ishmar sent you, and Allah hassim to you my friend,”

    Taking Ishmar’s tip in consideration, I began to march towards the pavilion. My eyes caught sight of many other shifty drifters. Some even wore less clothing than myself. One was even flirting with a prostitute. Her scanty clad clothing exposed a blue g-string, and those stiletto heels she wore made her appear slightly drunk. Still, the man slipped a wad of dollar bills into her bosom, and flinging her long blond hair over her shoulder, they walked into an ally. I noticed that a pack of whores were busy speculating my body, “I bet that one can drill a women till she’s 40!”

    “Hey baby, wanna dunk me in your coffee? I won’t bite…too much!”

    “Yo hotshot, for $30 I will let you do me like a Ponyta, and even kiss me occasionally,” and she flashed my face with her grotesque basketball sized breasts. I couldn’t help, but blush. Yet, I put aside such childish temptations, and brushed the women away. All three cried out in sync, “Oh you’ll come back. They always do!”

    My mind could not believe the massive amount of goods here. Stalls were loaded to the brim with forged pig iron blades, racks of semi-automatic weapons, cages stuffed with frightened Torchics awaiting slaughter, tunics of Tailow feathers, clay pots with marijuana peaking out, layers of fried bread, salted strips of fish, and exotic items from all corners of the earth. The sight of all those crooked smiles from the vendors, it could make even the most tyrannical dictator submit to their allure and purchase a lifetime supply of their wares. The scents of fresh cinnamon, pungent salt, dour blood, lingering smog, hearty polish, and expressionless scents from both man and beast could easily fill a set of encyclopedias. Of course the chattering of customers, hyped up vendors, squawking birds, barking mutts, sizzling grills, casing of bullets tapping the ground, and even the moaning of prostitutes with their customers left deep impressions in my mind. In short, this place was truly in a league of its own.

    I made my way through the main market place, and saw a fork in the road. The pathway to the right lead to a shantytown of tin can roofs, and cardboard foundations. To the left lie even more stalls, but the walls made even the crowds of onlookers want to rebel. In the middle road was a pathway to the main urban district. For there were apartments and five-story high houses dotted the alleyways. Unfortunately Ishmar did not give me instruction on where I should branch off at, so I took a glance at the street sign. All of the signs were signed in a script that reminded me of Sumerian cuneiform. There was no logical way I could make sense of the jargon, so I turned around, and approached a young man. He wore baggy sweatpants, torn up leather jacket, a Hoenn Pokemon league hat, and smoked a thin cigarette. He looked to be around the same age as Charlie, “Hello there young sir, could you please direct me to the pavilion inn?”

    He just leered. I turned away and reapproached the sign. Just then, a group of four do-rag clad children surround me. Three of them were young boys dressed up like the one earlier, but they wore black bandanas, and wielded knives. The girl had only a bra on, and torn up blue-jean shorts. She spat on my cloak, and gave me the finger, “We don’t like you tourist around these parts,” one of the punks added, “Yeah, so hand us yo’ money, and we won’t make you our gimp…” but I did not budge. Walking up to my southeast side, the boy from earlier placed his hand on my right shoulder, “Yo pops. Where did you get that shitty outfit? From your mom’s bedroom curtain?”

    The younger girl sneered, “Yeah that all your mama could afford, eh boy? I bet she just kicked you out of the house, so she could go whoring full time,” the rest of the children snickered violently. They started to close in on me spiting at my face, and pushing me like a doll. The leader of the pack, the cigarette clad boy killed off the drag of his smoke on my left breast, and whispered, “I saw your mama. Yes, she was down at the docks raping some sailor. They bucked like donkeys all night long, and she moaned like a Primeape. Ough ough ough! Ahahaha! What a fucking loser—“

    “Yeah, thinking he can go around all ghetto like, and bum us out of money huh Leroy?”

    “Nah, he’s too soaped up on uppers, and crack to even count up to five! Look at how pale he is, and what’s up with ‘dem broom like ponytails?”

    “I bet he’s one of those transvestites. Ya know half-and-half prancing down Tyrouge Boulevard every Thursday? Except this one’s a reject. ‘Cause of his skanky mom, and burned out brain he ain’t even accepted as even a wino!”

    They all roared into crackling laughter. The scent of distilled alcohol on their rotting teeth, and weed-laden clothing made my stomach feel sick. But I was irritated not because of the insults they placed upon me… but my mother. No one will ever experience the hell she encountered that faithless night…nor does anyone have the right to sully her name in vain! My arms began to twitch feverously. I wanted to kill every last one of them, and pull out their twisted hearts for their tainted eyes to see. Their blood, dripping down my palms excited my imagination. All of my conscious senses ignored the splendor of the city, and the droning of their hateful taunts.

    To hear their puberlescent screams made me quiver with pleasure. And to watch their frail bodies, toxified by narcotics fall into uneven pieces of flesh and bones…lingered in my eyes. I would reserve the quantity of my rage on Leroy. His head would explode by my displeasure of his attitude alone. Oh what fun I would have smiting that prick, and his bitch…

    I then heard a cynical voice in my head. Was it my inner-evil trying to encourage me to kill? No, it was something far more venomous, “Kill them all,” it stated bluntly. Already I could feel my fingers tingle with anticipation to yield my blade once more, “Make ‘em cry…no…erase their…useless lives…off this…already…forsaken world…my precious…” the last two words made my spine jolt with discomfort. In a brief flash, I caught sight of a Pokeball clanged tight to Leroy’s groin area. My pupils widened with anticipation. A brief duel by the hands of Itabo would benefit him more than a sudden onslaught of death. At least, right away…

    I felt one of the other boys place his hand on my cloak. He started to tug on it as if to rip it asunder. My sanity temporary regained dominance over my emotions, and caused my right hand to grab onto the brat’s palm sized hand. I began to apply pressure, slowly snapping every last ligament. His eyes began to leak out tears, but trying to preserve his ‘manhood’ he bided the pain. The others noticed my irritation, and they started to back off a few inches. They were spellbound. I could tell by their fear that they started to doubt their claims on me from earlier. Leroy was petrified, but still had a smug expression on his lips.

    I turned my attention towards him, and barked, “I would like a Pokemon battle with you—now!” but the boy just nibbled on the butt of his cigarette. Then he placed his right hand on the Pokeball, and mocked, “Ya know, I’m the best trainer here in the E-slums. Not even old man Zephrio could lay a finger on my Daffer,” he spat out his cigarette, and looked into my eyes.

    Leroy did not want to pay attention to the blood that was dripping out of my palms. His friend could not bare the pain anymore, and began to sob madly. The other kids stepped back, giving us both room for a brief battle. I closed my eyes, “Itabo, it looks like you’ll be receiving breakfast sooner than I thought…”

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  12. #12
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 6: The Heat of Battle


    Radic shouts, “Chirin, use confusion on the Zubat!” Chirin’s back tail begins wagging and as its front head begins concentrating, the front head it bitten by the back head. The right Team Magma grunt begins laughing and comments, “With that happening, I don’t even have to do anything. I haven’t even used Supersonic yet. Zubat, use leech life on that Girafarig.” Radic grumbles as he watches helplessly for the Zubat flying towards Chirin and drinks some vital blood from Chirin’s neck.

    I call out to Casanova, “Casanova, use your meditation ability.” Casanova settles down to a meditation stance. The grunt on the left chuckles and comments, “Are you two giving up already? Poocheyna, ‘Bite’ that meditating runt.” “Dipsy, use your ‘Surf’ ability!” exclaimed Radic. The middle Team Magma grunt laughs and replies, “Don’t worry Slugma. A little puny thing like that can’t do much. Use your ‘Rock Throw’, now!”

    The Poocheyna charges towards Casanova with lightning speed and a craving for Casanova’s blood. The Slugma hurls a few rocks at Dipsy, when a giant wave of water soars by to stop Slugma’s air born rocks. The wave continued to critically injure the Slugma. Casanova senses the approaching Poocheyna and leaps up just in time to avoid the charge of Poocheyna’s fangs. As Poocheyna lands, it howls up towards the sky. Radic stares helplessly as the Zubat continues sucking on Chirin’s neck.

    Radic calls to Dipsy, “Hurry up and finish off the Slugma so you can help Chirin. Use ‘Surf’ now!” “Oh no you don’t! Slugma, create a smog and hide within it,” responds the middle grunt with strict severeness in his tone. I cry out to Casanova, “Come on Casanova! Punch that Poocheyna!” Casanova turns towards Poocheyna and remains still. The Magma Grunt controlling the Poocheyna laughs and comments, “It’s kind of hard to hit me when you don’t attack. Poocheyna, use your ‘Bite’ attack!”

    Poocheyna flew towards Casanova with fierce determination to please its master. As Poocheyna leaps towards Casanova, Casanova slides to the side and punches Poocheyna in the spinal cord. Poocheyna feels a strong paralysis taking over every cell in its body. As Casanova landed that devastating blow, Chirin decided it had enough. It’s eyes began to glow and fling the Zubat into its owner. The two heads finally decided to act as one. Dipsy summons a powerful wave to strike down the last bit of energy the Slugma had.

    Radic suggested, “Chirin, use the power of your Psybeam!” Chirin let out a large colorful beam of bright lights directly at the Zubat. Dipsy tries to find its glasses as it realized that the previous ‘Surf’ attack caused them to fall to the ground. Casanova stares at the Poocheyna and beckons it to try attacking again. The Poocheyna finds itself unable to move. Casanova grumbles and begins taking another step forward when Chirin shouts, “Girafarig!”

    Casanova remains still as he turns towards Chirin. Chirin explains, “Gira girafarig rig rig farig girafarig.” Casanova looks down and sees Dipsy’s glasses. Casanova picks them up and walks towards Dipsy, when the remaining grunt shouts, “Poocheyna, get him now while you still can!” Poocheyna finds itself only able to turn towards Casanova. Casanova puts the glasses in Dipsy’s hands. I call out to Casanova, “Now is the time to end this, Casanova! Punch it again!”

    Casanova pulls back his fist as he begins charging it. Poocheyna begins wimpering as it senses the coming hit heading directly towards itself. The Poocheyna the lowers its head as it finds itself unable to evade the oncoming attack. Casanova delivers the blow and the Poocheyna is unable to pull itself back up. The grunts shout, “You two will pay for this!” They then run off into the distance.

    I hastily suggest, “Come on Radic, let’s get to the Petalburg Woods now before we have to deal with anymore of them.” “Yeah, you only have one Pokmon, so you can’t afford to get Casanova injured,” replies Radic as we cross the bridge that connects Rustboro to Petalburg Woods. We then walk past a group twins that call out, “Hey, are you two Pokémon trainers?” We both silently nod. The first twin commands, “We challenge you…” “…to a Pokémon battle,” finishes the other twin.

    Radic commented, “Alright, a Pokémon battle it is.” “Are you sure?” I inquire. Radic confidently commented, “Yeah, I want to see how good the trainers in this region are.” “Alright…” I add.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  13. #13
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{ Horosha }*~
    Chapter VII: Smiting ‘de punks


    I forcefully tossed back the punk’s crumpled hand. Blood decorated the crunched appendage as he flailed it wildly. He cried with all of his heart, and ran towards a dark alley to save face. Leroy, and the rest of his gang just scoffed their wounded companion. I place my slightly soiled hand on Itabo’s glistering Premiere ball.

    “How many Pokemon shall we use?” I asked. Leroy responded with deep sarcastic overtones, “With all you got,” and he rolled his eyes. Placing his grubby right hand on his ball, he removed it from his velcro groin pouch, and tossed the sphere against the cement. As it contacted the ground a bright white flash blinded my eyes for a brief moment, as a hunched over humanoid shape emerged. The Pokemon was a rather lanky Lombre for it’s body barely had any cover for it’s eternal organs and bones. The Lombre took a quaint look into my eyes, and muttered, “Bwwayak.” On cue, I released Itabo’s Premiere ball, and as it’s porcelain elegance contacted the ground, Itabo emerged as if he endured a massive hangover, “Sz..a,” Itabo grumbled.

    The punks began to come closer to inspect our partners like spectators in a boxing ring, “Your pint sized bug won’t stand a’ chance ‘gainst Daffer there!” one of the boys proclaimed, “Damn straight, and besides you should go home, and jam yo’ donkey punching mom’s dildo ya fag!” Leroy’s obnoxious girlfriend ordered. I held my rage in a simmer, for now is not the time to put them in a shallow grave. A cryptic smile brushed my parched lips, but Leroy just took a drag, and pointed at me.

    “Daffer slap that prick with an Astonish!” and the queasy Lombre nodded in agreement. He stood still as a brief surge of blue ectoplasm laced it’s hands. He waddled up to Itabo, but my companion did not budge an inch, “Itabo once he comes up to range use a scratch attack!” but he still lied there twittering his wings. Daffer made it up to Itabo with his hands still sticky and blue he lifted up his right hand up in a 45-degree angle, and slapped Itabo’s face harshly. The energy diffused, leaving Daffer’s hand pale once again. Itabo instantly jabbed his left claw into Daffer’s bottom lip. A tiny drop of blood dripped on the cement ground, as Daffer’s eyes began to flare up.

    “Boowa--yo!’ cried Daffer, as he jerked back a inch and swung down his left claw like a scythe. Sidestepping to the right slightly, Itabo evaded his petite nails and made a jab at Daffer’s stomach. Pushing the maroon claw inward, Daffer’s eyes began to leak out tears, “Bwwa,” Itabo closed his eyes happily, “S’za!” I noticed that Leroy began to look very desperate. He was not used to his Pokemon getting damaged so easily, especially by a timid looking insect like Itabo.

    “Daffer let’s not play games no more! I want you to use a Nature Power this instant!”

    “Itabo, use a Harden to cushion any ‘blows’ it may administer,” I coolly stated. Itabo turned his head towards me, and winked. My faith in his abilities boosted up significantly. Daffer leapt back three feet, and placed his hands on the ground. As he sat their motionless, his eyes began to cloud up. His body started to tense up. I could feel the tremendous force in his body radiate. The punk children all jeered at me,

    “ Say bye bye to your chances of winning. ‘Cause my man’s gonna make yo’ slave into road kill!” the girl’s shrieking vocals nearly made me homicidal, “Arrogance will bring forth your own blinded harbinger,” I responded gruffly. She just stared at me, not taking in my ‘gentle’ warning. That is ok, they weren’t used to someone whom could fight back. Itabo flattened his body, and he sat motionless anticipating Daffer’s attack. Daffer’s eyes widened as the mist disappeared. He started to make brief jabs in the air as sparks danced from his fingertips. Itabo remained docile. Foam began to seep from Daffer’s mouth, and then larger star shaped sparks shot out like ammunition. The starts gained momentum and speed with every second. Itabo started to relax his muscles, causing his scales to harden. The sparks skimmed off his flesh leaving only brief nicks. Yet the spark still kept on moving. They crashed into shacks, brick walls, and even one shattered a garbage can into shards.

    A dirt-laden hobo stood up, “Watch where you’re fucking around,” but amazingly nobody really seemed to notice, nor care about this particular battle. They must be accustomed to ceaseless violence. Daffer began to slouch and began to breath heavily. Itabo merely lifted his body up, and shuffle towards his foe. Leroy and his gang were baffled. He began to chew nervously on his cigarette as it started to droop out of his mouth. The gang cried out, “Daffer use some Fury Swipes!”

    “Great job Itabo, you’re crushing their morale. Reward your labor with his blood by using a Leech Life!” I commanded. Itabo started to slightly sprint anticipating it’s sickening sweet blood, “Siz’o I’a!” Daffer looked at Itabo with tremendous hatred, “Billa wwah,” as he rushed towards Itabo swinging his arms wildly. I watched t his desperate facade anticipating every last blow. Itabo simply pressed his body against the ground, and pushed himself forward. The Lombre’s claws dances off Itabo’s back, causing tiny silver flakes to fly like bark. Sticking out his needle proboscis, Itabo pushed his body upwards, and as Daffer’s claws kept scraping off scales with a fanatic zeal. Withstanding the blows, he pointed his head up, and punctured it through Daffer’s throat. Sucking his blood like wine, Itabo’s abdomen got plumper as Daffer began to tire out. Daffer’s body began to shrivel like paper. His relentless slashing stopped, and he started to gag violently. Slowly Daffer could no longer sustain the sharp pangs in his body as Itabo robbed the very life force from him.

    Itabo yanked his proboscis out of Daffer, and belched. The defeated Lombre’s head smacked against the ground effortlessly as a tiny river of blood poured from his neck, “ You asshole!” Leroy returned Daffer back into his Pokeball. As the thin red laser absorbed Daffer, the punk girl stepped up, “ You cheater, how dare you use dirty tricks to win! Go Zaggy!” she tossed a bluish great ball against the ground. Out came a shaggy Zigzagoon who has never seen a bathtub in it’s life. Itabo looked at it rather sleepily, the feast of blood began to numb his senses. The scruffy raccoon itched it’s snout.

    “Thunderbolt it’s ass into dust!” she roared. Zaggy stared blankly at his trainer. I turned towards Itabo, and swung my index finger down. He nodded in acceptance, and lifted up his right claw. Static fizzled Zaggy’s macaroon colored fur. More electricity built up as it straitened out it’s body like a rod. Before Itabo could speak, a large yellow flash lit up the area, as thousands of thunderbolts shot out of the timid rodent’s body. The energy crashed into Itabo, bouncing off ever last centimeter of his body. He closed his eyes as if it was nothing. Zaggy intensified the thunderbolts as he started to show more signs of strain while stronger volts were ejected into Itabo. A large explosion of energy engulfed Itabo as debris scattered like mortar shells across the alley.

    He opened his eyes, and leapt on Zaggy’s face. Goring out it’s charcoal colored eyes, Itabo dug deeper into it’s sockets as pus sputtered out. Franticly, Zaggy cried in agony, and skipped in circles trying to toss Itabo off his head. My partner was savoring every last moment.

    “How did it survive my Zaggy’s deadliest move?” pondered the girl. The Zigzagoon lifted it’s head up violently, causing Itabo to release his grip. Then as it stumbled into him, Zaggy smashed Itabo’s head with a head butt against the ground. A smidgen of black blood drooled out of Itabo’s proboscis. Lifting himself up, Itabo dug his claws into Zaggy’s neck. The raccoon attempted to shake off Itabo again. But my partner was far too adept to it’s trickery now, and plunging his blood-laden proboscis into Zaggy’s forehead, he began to drain away it’s vitality.

    “Come on don’t faint, use another Head Butt, or some sh’it like dat,” but it was already too late. Zaggy fainted due to tremendous blood loss. As it’s fuzzy mug smacked against the ground, Itabo yanked out his mouthy appendage victoriously, “Z’a,” as he fell asleep on the spot. In the background I could hear a commotion from the homeless people. Were they praising my battling skills, or merely ruffled by our ruckus, I shall never know. I returned Itabo back into his premiere ball, and likewise the girl did the same for her slain Zaggy. Leroy and his posey were deeply afraid.

    “Yo’ we’re sorry for messin’ with ya man,” muttered Leroy, “I hate you, and that damn bug too!” cried the girl. The other boy was merely silent, but I could smell his fear like rancid eggs. I took in this brief victory, and grinned. I felt like no force in the world could destroy this blissful moment, when vengeance is achieved with the littlest amount of violence.

    The wailing of sirens bellowed in the alley. As I turned to my left, I caught sight of a police car speeding towards us. Behind the wheel was a maniacal officer whom seemed to be having coke withdrawal symptoms, “All of you are under arrest for participating in a unregistered Pokemon battle in city limits! You shall be apprehended with the fullest extend of the law if you dare to resist arrest,” his voice squawked from the megaphone loosely griped in his hand.

    He drove without regard as he crashed through shanty shacks of tin and cardboard, and nearly ran over a legless child. The punks scattered in all directions, taking refuge in whatever garbage can or manhole they could encounter. I did not feel obligated to join paths with them, but I did not enjoy the prospect of being detained by a crazed officer. I turned right, and began to sprint through the maze of shacks and heaps of shit that defined the morality of this city.
    Last edited by SulcataIxlude; 8th March 2004 at 04:33 AM.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

  14. #14
    Tochter Aus Elysium Flare-Espeon's Avatar
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    Talking

    Although I've already read more of it then these chapters and that's why I didn't reply earlier on, maybe I must be the first to reply on this.

    Personaly I like the Horosha parts better (and that's not just because you wrote them ), because he's much more a rounded character then Kixque is. The whole Horosha part is darker too, shows a lot more about how dark the world can be, where the Pokemon world pretends not too. Maybe it's time a somewhat lighter person appears in the story (glares at SulcataIxlude, you know what I mean).

    Although I like the Horosha parts more, there's one character that draws my special attention and that's Radic. He looks a lot like one of my own characters, Insha, high priest of any ancient civilisation who lived about 4000 years ago. She's blind too, and she has the same easy going way of coping with it as Radic does.

    Anyway, I hope too see more of it

    Back and alive getting over you
    Now i've got it together, I'm stronger then ever
    Back on teh track with a better view
    And I'm getting closer to perfection 'cause of you




  15. #15
    Mei-burt's Beibeh SulcataIxlude's Avatar
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    ~*{ Kixque }*~
    Chapter 7: Fight or Flight


    The twins begin chanting, “Above and below…” “…Maximum and minimum…” “…Positive and negative…” “…We release our Plusle and Minun!” The twins release their Pokéballs and out pop a Plusle and Minun that are both energetic and eager for battle. Casanova steps forth in front of myself. Radic awaits to hear how the Plusle’s and Minun’s nimble shrill sounds to him. Radic softly mumbles, “Sounds like baby Novas…Rezna, come on out.” Radic reaches behind his back and tosses a pokéball forward. The towering Piloswine stands towering over the miniature electric rodents. The looming Piloswine distract the Plusle and Minun enough to allow Casanova to settle into his meditating position.

    The first twin begins, “Piloswine, a creature famous for its Blizzard attack.” “However, its arctic nature is too slow for our nimble Pokémon,” continues the second twin. The first twin begins, “Plusle, helping hand for Minun, while…” “Minun uses ‘thundershock’ on the Piloswine,” finishes the second twin. The Plusle and Minun begin slapping hands together in a pattern while the Minun begins charging its cheeks with electricity. The Minun suddenly turns around and releases a huge jolt of electricity from its cheeks at Rezna. The twins watch Rezna and near fall to the ground when Rezna take a deep snore. I look at Radic and mention, “I’m confused Radic. Why didn’t anything happen?” Casanova puts his hands on his head. “It may be true that Rezna is Ice type, but she is also a solid ground type Pokémon, which is well known to be immune to electric attacks,” answers Radic. The first twin cries, “That’s not…” “…fair!” shouts the second twins.

    Casanova brings his hands off his head and down to his lap. Unexpectedly, the Plusle is seen flying towards its owner. The twin screams in shock. The other twin comments, “What…what….happened?” “I felt some psychic force moving…” softly replies Radic. I look down at Casanova and ponder, “Was that your doing?” Casanova turns towards the Minun and closes his eyes. Radic begins, “Must be…Rezna can’t do that. Rezna, use Earthquake.” “Earthquake?” squeaks the first twin. The twins desperately clamp to each other while the Minun looks around carefully for something to happen.

    After a few suspenseful moments the twins and the Minun start staring at Rezna until another snore is heard from Rezna. Radic merely puts his hand over his face and grumbles. The second twin exclaims, “Now is your chance! Get that Meditite with a ‘quick attack’!” Minun leaps into the air, moving as fast as it can at Casanova. Casanova opens his eyes and turns his body to the left to completely miss Minun’s attack. Radic commands, “Rezna, use ‘earthquake’.” The first twin begins, “That didn’t work last time…” “…what makes you think it will work this time?” adds in the second twin. Radic calls, “Come on Rezna, don’t let me down.” “Don’t be silly. Go after that Piloswine, Minun!” exclaims the second twin. Minun begins to move towards Rezna, while Casanova leaps into the air, when the ground begins shaking violently. Both twins desperately embrace each other in their arms and cry in terror. Minun falls harshly to the ground and was left without the courage to stand back up. I struggle to stay as close to the ground as I can so I don’t lose my balance.
    The first twin wails, “Alright! We give up!” “Just make it stop!” adds the second twin. Radic calls out to Rezna, “Rezna, that’s enough.” The ground’s vibrations slowly soothe back to its normal nature. Radic turns towards me and comments, “Let’s not forget that Team Magma isn’t that far away and that earthquake might cause them to head towards us. We should probably hurry, since I doubt you could last long with only Casanova.” I merely nod and motion for Casanova to follow me and allow us to leave the battlefield. Radic beckons Rezna back to her pokéball as he heads in my general direction.

    Before we even realize it, we find ourselves well into the Petalburg Woods. The trees throughout this area were enormous. I could also hear the chirping and buzzing of the bug and bird Pokémon well throughout the forest. Radic calmly comments, “I’ll definitely have to catch something new from this area. Never hurts to develop a new style after you have a few good ones going for you, Kixque.” I merely nod as I keep looking around at the area.

    Suddenly, Radic holds his hand out in front of me and quietly comments, “Wait. There’s a good Pokémon to catch nearby.” “Really? Where?” I ponder as I look around. I couldn’t even see any. Radic calmly states, “To your right…down on the ground. It’s eating a dry, crunchy leaf.” “So that’s how you know…” I reply as I look where Radic mentioned. After a few moments, I found the back part of it sticking out from behind a bush. It was either a Wurmple or a fairly beaten-up Corphish too far away from its home. Since Radic said it was eating a leaf, it had to be a Wurmple, but he also said that it was a good Pokémon, and I’ve never heard a story about a good Wurmple. On the other hand, Corphish may be known to eat anything, but this end of the forest is way too far away from salt water for a Corphish to be living at. Radic turns towards me and asks, “What do you think, Kixque?” “Um…Only one way to find out how good it is, right?” I reply unintentionally. I guess Radic’s eager spirit for adventure is really starting to sink into me. Radic nods and eagerly encourages, “Just what I was thinking. Poe, after that Pokémon!”
    Radic points towards the Pokémon I saw and Poe flies out of its Pokéball directly towards the Pokémon. I wonder if Radic chose the right Pokémon. If it is a Wurmple, Radic should be fine, but if it is a Corphish, there would be no telling how strong it could be, especially with it being way out here. Also, with it possibly being Corphish, it’s really tough, and one thing everyone learns in day one of Pokémon training is that flying Pokémon are really fragile so that they are able to take flight with their light bones. If Radic’s Pokémon get injured, we’re helpless, especially Poe, since Poe is Radic’s last trace of eye sight.

    Termia kasih sujunta Flare-Espeon!
    Dale's Gold version team of 'de babylon!:

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