MAMA

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  1. #1
    Dauntless Fried Chicken Voltaire Magneton's Avatar
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    Default MAMA

    Careless, careless
    Shoot anonymous, anonymous
    Heartless, mindless

    No one, who care about me?

    Mama, why are we here?

    Mama, what is this place?

    Mama, why did it end this way?

    Mama, who are these people? Who are they, black-clad tall people guarding the place, holding metal rods and standing upright? What, or who, are they guarding? Is it us? If then why us?

    Mama, what are we doing here? In this small room. A very dusty room. A very dark room. The lights I see come from the outside, which is blocked by cold steel rods.

    Mama, how long are we here? I remember days ago of a black-clad person with black glasses doing something with a paper, probably scribbling. I heard him saying, "Prisoner: Cubone. Brown skin. White skull headpiece. One bone. Lighter brown on the stomach. Bipedal. Constantly moans." What was he talking about? I don't get it.

    Mama, I don't know why, but this place makes me sad. Is it the dim place this is? Is it my solitude along with you? I yawn. I need to sleep.

    Mama, will you sing me to dearly sleep?


    ---

    Mama, is there something wrong? I woke up to the cold concrete floor. Is it because of something mysterious? I could see the cold steel rods missing on their place. I wonder why. I sense something. The sense pointing to the outside.

    Mama, should I go outside? Will you guide me?

    ---

    Mama, thank you for guiding me. I don't know how you'd know how to get outside, but you did. Now we are outside the dark place. A big building, dark gray or probably the dim light of the moon and the dust. We came from there, right? The outside place is cold, makes me shiver. The night breeze, chilling to the bones. Do we go forward, or back?

    Mama, is this what they call freedom?

    ---

    Mama, aren't the fields amazing? Even if the moon is dark, I can see the fields. Grass all around me. But I see no flowers. I can smell smoke. From where we came? That place, that city, is dirty. Smoke, fog, the air is smog. Ha, the word is funny. Gray buildings are compact, as if they're hugging each other. Dust around them. Why so dusty? I think nobody wants to clean. But this place is quite clean and wide. I can run around if I want to. But I am tired. I sense danger still. But the fields are innocent. The grass lay down to each other, asleep. I clench this thing I hold hard. Probably the bone the man was saying. If I remember, you gave me this when I was younger. I liked your gift.

    Mama, the fields are safe. Will you sing me again to sleep with the grass and the breeze?

    ---

    Mama, is that the sun? Is this morning? Is it supposed to be really gray? Is the light filtered? Is the smoke making this dull colour?

    Mama, I feel refreshed. That sleep was peaceful. The grass was soft and delicate. Back then, the concrete would wake me up with its chill. I feel free. This is a wide space. I should run around.

    Mama, will you play with me?

    ---

    Mama, I can see the sun above me. But, should I not look at the sun? Back then, the sun is blinding me. Now, it is like the eerie moon. I can feel the sun's warmth, though. In that room, the warmth is blocked by the dusty walls, making me ever cold. Now, the sweat in my body is refreshing. But, I smell of the smoke and my sweat. I should go and find a pond.

    Mama, will you find me a pond?

    ---

    Mama, this is not a pond, but this will do. It is a river, flowing to my right. The water is brown. Or was it gray? I don't really know. Back then, these waters were crystal blue. I could then see through the waters, and see the ground and the fishes in it. Now, what is this shade?

    Mama, I'll still bathe. Oh, the water is cold! Too cold for me. But I can live through. I wade through the water. It was okay, but the waters are littered with garbage. Old tires, rusty cans, and what is this clothing stained with brown in the middle? These trashes make this river dirty. But I can survive. All I wanted is to be clean. Probably, this bath won't make a difference.

    Mama, since when was my last bath? The cold room did not have a place for me to take a bath. But me not moving much never made me sweat or dirty. La-la-la, I wade through the water. I think I should go out of this river. My bath session is now finished. I go back to the land. I shake off the water from me. I picked up my bone. Until I feel a grabbing power from behind.

    Mama, what is happening?! I try to squirm away. Then, some piece of cloth is placed to my nose-snout. It has a sharp smell. I can feel myself fainting.

    Mama, help me...

    ---

    Mama, where are we? Ouch, my head hurts. I feel some beatings on my head, like my heart was there. I fully return to my senses, and I see myself in the room. Again. Although, this does not look like the same. Another cold room? I stare through the cold steel bars. I see nothing. Still dim. Is it night-time? Was I asleep for a long time? The light does not help at all.

    Mama, why do I hear some festive noise somewhere? It sounds fun. Except this place is dark. This makes me depressed. I feel like singing. But I don't sing. I remember what you sing for me back then.

    Urin deo isang nuneul maju haji anheulkka
    Sotonghaji anheulkka
    Saranghaji anheulkka
    Apeun hyeonsire dasi nunmuri heulleo
    Bakkul su itdago, bakkumyeon dwaendago
    Malhaeyo mama, mama


    What does the song mean? I don't understand the words. It sounds otherworldly. Or just from another place. I wonder why you’d know such a song. But the way you sing it for me then was touching my emotions. I feel sentimental. I kind of miss those days. Can we go back to that time? The noise continues on. But the head pain makes me drowsy.

    Mama, will you make me sleep?

    ---

    Mama, I wake up with a moving gesture. Someone is waking me up. I see the intruder. I see one of those dark-clad men shaking me. Once he saw me waking up, he picked me up. He took my bone. I wonder why.

    Mama, where are we going?

    Mama, he dropped me off in a stage. I don't know what to do, so I stood up and stayed there. Around me are walls. The usual gray. But there's a light above me. Brighter that I usually see. Probably brighter than the outside sun. Then suddenly, three long, tentacle-like steel things with three claws each came out of the wall. What kind of magic is that?!

    Mama, will you protect me? I feel a surge to whack them with this bone I hold. One charges at me, its claws opening wide. I swing this bone with some force I didn't know I had. The tentacle went unconscious and dropped dead. A second tentacle went nearer. Same thing, same whack, same drop. But the third wrapped me. It squeezed me. I try to see where the tentacle is, and then whack goes the bone. I got myself released from the bond. I thank you, mama.

    Mama, one of those men came out of a wall. Probably a tricky door. Who wants tricky doors? The man grabbed me and lifted me. I don't know what to do. I'm feeling terrified.

    Mama, am I feeling a surge again? I feel a whack going to the man's head. He went limp. His glasses cracked. I don't know how that happened. I fell to the ground without his holding support. I saw some writing on a rectangle on his left chest. "Do Kyungsoo" is what it says. His name, maybe? A weird name, I guess. I feel the surge again. I feel it tugging me to the outside.

    Mama, should I follow it?

    ---

    Mama, I am now on the outside again! The surge was weird. My mind is making all of this. Or was it you, my mama? Anyways, the street. High sun up to the sky. I walk the concrete road. Dusty wind brushes me. Where am I going to, anyway? I just walk. And walk. And walk again. I continue walking. Until the seemingly never-ending piles of buildings end to the fields. Is this the fields I missed? Still gray with the smog. Haha, that word again. A tear wells up.

    Mama, did I just miss freedom?

    ---

    Mama, walking through, I see a large lake. Larger than a pond. I run to it. I don't know why but I need to go there.

    Mama, I reach the lake. The lake is serenely... gray. Ugh, why is it so gray. The world. So gray. The lake's clear, somehow. I can see myself. Wait, is that me? I see myself, and something brings up to my mind. Brown skin. White skull headpiece. One bone. Lighter brown on the stomach. Bipedal. Now I see what the man was talking about. I clearly remember. Although I can't see the brown colour in me. Probably their glasses do the colouring trick?

    Mama, I hate this world. This world, with all its gray things. This world, with all the smoke and fog that hugs the sun's light and turning it gray. This world, with all its weird men in black and some wonder ways of them seeing colour. This world is bitter and sad. The feeling is contagious. The feeling stings up to my bones.

    Mama, since when did the world change? When I was a child, everything was on its colours. When I was a child, rivers were undisturbed. When I was a child, flowers bloomed. When I was a child, the sun reigned itself king and spread its rays all over the place. When I was a child, it was not like it is now anymore. I want this to change.

    Mama, who'll do the change? I cannot, for I am small. Puny. Minor. Useless. Can't the men in black do it? Why do they like captivity? Why do they like bitterness? Why do they like the gray filter of this world?

    Mama, I heard a shout. I looked and saw one of those men in black. Then more of them went rushing. They were rushing towards the lake. They were rushing to me.

    Mama, what should I do? I tremble.

    Mama, I can't help myself. I am shaking.

    Mama, I will not survive to them. The bone does not respond.

    Mama, the lake. Wait, what?

    Mama, is the lake my gateway?

    Mama, is the lake my escape?

    Mama, will I do the correct thing? To the lake?

    Mama, did I just jump to the lake?

    Mama, the water was refreshing.

    Mama, I am going down.

    Mama, I can't breathe.

    Mama, this feeling is better than the men.

    Mama, I remembered your ever mysterious song.

    Urin deo isang nuneul maju haji anheulkka
    Sotonghaji anheulkka
    Saranghaji anheulkka
    Apeun hyeonsire dasi nunmuri heulleo
    Bakkul su itdago, bakkumyeon dwaendago
    Malhaeyo mama, mama


    Mama, was it a song of change?

    Mama, was it a song of dedication?

    Mama, I feel that song fits into this world.

    Mama, I feel faint.

    Mama, I feel the waters hugging me dearly.

    Mama, will you swim me to sleep?

    Mama, will you swim me to sleep, never-ending to evade the men?

    Mama, the men, they're so...

    Careless, careless
    Shoot anonymous, anonymous
    Heartless, mindless
    No one, who care about me?


    Mama, as long as I have your piece of yourself with me, I'll never feel alone.

    ---

    Somewhere in the city, a newspaper flew with the dusty wind. In the stop of its flight, it says:

    "Last Pokémon on Earth Dead-- Kim Jong-in"

    ---

    CC: 10,478
    Author’s Note: Woo, finished this within 2 hours. This is based on the song “MAMA” by EXO-K. It’s Korean. Terribly based, I think I have written the song’s meaning via this story. Why not listen to that song while reading? I dropped some EXO (there is EXO, and EXO-K and EXO-M as subgroups) references/shout-outs along the story. Also, I know grammar rules, but I styled this with child narration. Also, I like those lines at the end of the story that will change the whole meaning of the story. I did that once with Caprice of Otada, and now here. Also, I am not that much interested with the Cubone (but that doesn’t mean you must fail this ;-;). If you read this majestic story and interested with the Cubone, contact me and we’ll settle things.

    Aaaand to cut that super long AN, some more. If you didn’t get things, that is Cubone mythos. Or whatever it means. Mother skulls.

    Also: Song’s translation (i cant Korean but internet no not online translator but some great fangirls or just fans)

    Wouldn’t we face our eyes anymore?
    Wouldn’t we communicate?
    Wouldn’t we love?
    Tearing up to the reality that hurts
    Say mama if you can change it, say mama

    URPG STATS! Claimed Dusknoir! Leppa Berry! Exp. Share! Pick Up! Headbutt! Petalburg Woods Forums!

  2. #2
    I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙɪᴛᴇ, I ᴘʀᴏʙᴇ Lovecraft's Avatar
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    Default Re: MAMA

    I'm claiming this

  3. #3
    I ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙɪᴛᴇ, I ᴘʀᴏʙᴇ Lovecraft's Avatar
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    Default Re: MAMA

    Plot: The whole end-of-the-Pokemon in North Korea is nice, despite all sort of rumors and joke done about North Korea I had yet to see. I think the way you chose to put your story kind of hurt it though in my opinion, the flash conscience you show comes off as more as bitching and moaning about how things have changed than making the emotional link you wanted. The final scene is a bit disturbing too, if it wasn't a kid, death over jail would be a good closure, but as a kid being pseudo-guided by the ghost of its mom is a bit disturbing.

    Grammar: It's a bit hard to grade this specially because you said it was styled in child-speak but all in all there aren't many or much mistakes even in this style so, you're golden to go.

    Description: Description is a little bare in some parts but I suppose it's the medium and Cubone creepily talking to its dead mother and in this case it's warranted by artistic license. All in all it's all good.

    Length: Barely within the expected range you're good to go.

    Overview: While short grade is short, I feel I've said all I could about this except for one thing, namely that it's good enough to yourself a Cubone. Now just weep that it doesn't get Skill Link in canon

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