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...
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?”
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.