April 14th, 2008
Chapter 4 - The Prophet Speaketh~*~
"Hmm." Said Zotzbrue disappointedly, surveying the twilighty environment as the two dragons marched on through it. "Haven't gotten any less gloomy, this place have."
"Yeah, well, blame the designers." shrugged Byxebyte nonchalantly.
"I can't do that." Zotzbrue abruptly stopped and said in a shocked tone, looking at Byxebyte as if he were a small Bynarian hedgehog "They designed us too."
Here is what "The Guide of Interstellar Fauna, How to Survive It, And Why Should You Even Care" has to say about Bynarian hedgehogs.
Bynarian hedgehogs, it says, native to the world of Bynaria which orbits the twin suns of On and Off, are perhaps the strangest creatures the galaxy has ever created - due to the strange phenomenon known, for a bizarre reason, as 'social norms'. For example: unlike most creatures, who consider the mating habits of other members of their species to be strictly their own business, the Bynarian hedgehogs seem to believe that it's wrong for hedgehogs over the age of 11110 Bynarian years (The average Bynarian year is made up of 101101101 Bynarian days, which are made of 11000 Bynarian hours. The Bynarians have heard of simpler and easier ways to divide time, but they wanted no truck with anything beyond zero and one) not to be paired with another hedgehog, and would often pressure them heavily in an attempt to"help" them meet the hedgehog of their dreams, until they eventually decide to commit suicide, dividing themselves by zero, or in some other cases, try and divide everyone *else* by zero. Hence the phrase "To look at one as if he were a Bynarian hedgehog" would mean "To look at someone as if he was a serial killer wielding an unsolvable mathematical problem as a weapon."
Theoretically, these creatures should have never survived. What the Bynarian hedgehogs didn't know and nature did though, was that when the Bynarian hedgehog decides to turn into a serial killer, it eventually goes entirely nuts, and these nuts eventually plant themselves in the ground and sprout into new hedgehogs - which would have completely nullified the effect of the threats from various other hedgehogs that "You aren't young anymore, and if you keep on going like that without being paired, you'll never have any offspring! Do you not feel your biological clock ticking?" and so on, If it weren't for those three reasons: A. The Bynarian Hedgehogs do not know that. B. Bynarian Hedgehogs do not, in all actuality, have a biological clock. And C. Even if they did know it, they wouldn't care, because their social norms are too deeply rooted to ignore.
The Bynarians, sentient natives of Bynaria, firmly believe that the hedgehogs of their world were created by 'the irony gods' to reflect something highly profound which only they would understand. The natives of Earth One would have called it strange, but fail to get the irony anyway. The natives of Earth Two would simply say "Quack."
Byxebyte failed to get the irony in the look as well, but he realized that Zotzbrue indeed had a point, and decided to change the subject.
"So, where's his Prophetness?" he said, raising an scaly eye-ridge.
"Good question." replied Zotzbrue, still surveying the twilighty environment. He was quite certain he's seen that particular rock formation before.
"Are we lost again?"
"Yes, we are."
Elsewhere, The Prophet from the Stars sensed a presence on his planet. He closed his eyes, which were black as night, and if you looked hard enough into them you could see a whole universe inside (he always loved that pair of contacts) and using his inner sight, he located the two forms of the dragons, and seemed very amused.
"It's those two loonies back again." he said in a deep, soulful voice, which had a light echo to it.
A largish blue frog croaked.
"No, you're not the frog in the title."
"And you're not the toad either."
"What do you mean by 'this entire part was written because the author was too lazy to think up the dialogue?'"
"... You have a point. Very well. Begone."
The frog evaporated, because it wasn't there in the first place. It was there even though it wasn't there, because when you accidentally think of largish blue frogs and your mind isn't focused, and you happen to have lived on Been-There-Done-That-Prime after the mental swap of time, The Blue Frogs would have been there even if they weren't, because they've been created even though they haven't been.
Looking to the distance again, he saw an enormous eye. At first, he ignored it, dismissing it as a refrence to "Lord of the Rings" (The Prophet has read the books because he thought that a book with that name would sound cool, and wondered what it would be about), but when he noticed that the eye was looking at him quite irately, and was blinking, he pulled his sight back to himself, to see Zotzbrue and Byxebyte, looking somewhat aggravated, and a single, passed-out humanoid on the floor before them.
"Oh, it's you two. Who's he?" Said the Prophet, surveying the fainted humanoid and scratching his long white beard (the strands of which were floating about in the air, twirling slightly ever so often. He thought that was a standard issue thing for mystic persons.)
"Prince Yorik of Eureka, of the house of Blablahad." said Zotzbrue irately. "The knight."
"Or future knight." said Byxebyte, even more irately.
"You come and talk to me about KNIGHTS at three o'clock in the MORNING?" said the Prophet, more irately than both. Sparks danced between the curls of his beard as his voice echoed. "And next, you will expect me to talk about dusk at dawn, or about ducks at the chicken coop!"
A passing duck quacked irately.
"No offense." said the Prophet apologetically, who understood that meant. It was a rather foul obscenity in the ancient language of the ducks - which made it a fowl obscenity, in the end.
The two dragons simply rolled their eyes in exhasperation.
"So, why have you brought this.. Blablahad guy here?" asked the Prophet in the tone of one who already knows the answer.
"We wished to see if he was the one. Besides, he needs to be trained..." replied Zotzbrue.
"... And with you being the best and worst teacher and knight of this planet, we believed that you may be of use..." added Byxebyte helpfully.
"And besides, we're dying for a cup of tea." finished Zotzbrue. Byxebyte nodded in agreement.
"Dragons..." mumbled the Prophet, as he nodded and walked inside, motioning the two archosaurs to follow.
"The Encyclopedia of Boneheaded Things" refers to "Pointless Filler Episodes" as "One of the stupidest, most annoying things invented since the Universe has been created. Often containing little to no interesting content, they are usually created just because the Author was in a severe state of having a lack of ideas." And is itself full of them. The Encyclopedia has been written by people who practice what they preach, because certain marketing divisions think that practicing what you preach is a thing which shouldn't be done - and that people only exist to give other people advice about what to do with their lives. It is said that high in the nethermost depths of the infinite reaches of space, the Irony Gods were roaring with laughter, since that is the sort of thing they enjoyed pointing out the most, with their own obscure little refrences. However, the rest of the universe understood nothing of it.
Meanwhile, the Pointless Filler Episodes, such as this one, have made themselves a name, and soon enough were cropping up everywhere, whether you need them or not, sometimes mistaken for classics by those who wrote them and unfortunately, by some of those who read them, as well.
Chapter 3 - Earth Beyond Earth
Earth Two had little to do, if at all, with Earth One. In fact, it was an abandoned twilight world somewhere in the dark nebula known to the natives of Earth One as the "Coal Sack" and to the natives of Earth Two as "The Great Big Pile of Nothing". If Earth Two had natives, that is.
In fact, the only native life-forms Earth Two had were a few birds, one or two great, green, spotted whale-like creatures and, for some reason, ducks.
The ducks of Earth Two were in fact highly intelligent, conspiring to unite with their bretheren in a different world they have heared of and to take them to the haven of all duck-like life forms, the legendary planet known as Quackaditz. However, since ducks are built the way they are, they could have never built a spaceship on their own. And so, they schemed in silence until the golden oppurtunity came. A small, pagoda-shaped ship has landed on the surface, and out stepped a rather humanoid life form, Obviously on a reasearch mission. And so it happens that an intrepid group of ducks waited until he was gone, then they have leapt inside, took off and set course to Earth One, where they have made the horrible mistake of landing in China. Some Chinese chefs still feel a debt of honor to these ducks, as without them, the famous Peking Duck dish would have never been created.
Meanwhile, the other ducks who remained on Earth Two have all gathered under the rulership of the humanoid, whom they named "The Prophet from the Stars".
One of the oddest effects of living on a world where time was, in fact, out for lunch, was that after a while, you got used to it. Since everything that haven't happened yet has already happened, and things that haven't hapened in the past HAVE happened as the matter of fact, nothing was impossible. And so, after a while, The mind gets used to the fact that nothing is impossible, and once it has left the atmosphere it wouldn't allow the body or the rules of physics to act as if there are some things which can't be done.
As mentioned before, all the Inhabitants of Been-There-Done-That-Prime were lawyers. Yet a single man dared to change career - because he didn't particularily enjoy suing everyone and being sued by everyone, especially in the "Great Courtroom War"*. Thus, he has decided that he has built a starship and has gone off to explore the cosmos backwards in what would have been called "Time" out there.
He did so, and unfortunately had the misfortune of having his ship stolen by ducks. His so-called powers diminished since he has landed, But he could still see as his mind told him to, and used his future sight to lead the remaining ducks into an age of prosperity. He has earned himself the name of one of the wisest people in the galaxy, and many consulted him, until the authorities captured him, many years later, for the blame of "cheating against life And tampering with temporal forces", tossed him into a stone-age planet and told him to evolve into a more responsible life form.
Of course, at the time of Prince Yorik Blablahad, he was still leading the ducks of Earth Two. And two average to medium-sized dragons carrying a rather-stunned prince were ripping through laundry creases in space in order to get there at full speed, causing the sudden appearance of a small inanimate object on a small insignificant planet that took some small insignificant person to another planet and started another tale that would be written upon the pages of history. However, as it is of utterly no consequence to our current story, we shall not delve further into just WHAT happened there.
* "The Complete (Abridged) History (Or what might have been) of Been-There-Done-That-Prime" tells that the event that stirred the Great Courtroom War was a chain reaction - A man blamed another man for digging out his garden, And that other man blamed another one, and another one... The practical upshot of which was, that the entire planet was found guilty as charged, but refused to go to jail and sued the authorities... The only stop to the chain reaction was found that someone suggested that the man that started it all dug out his own garden in the middle of the night in order to overthrow the government.
Since no one thought of that, the man admitted it was him, even though it wasn't, and thus was the case sealed.
Curiously enough, no one knows who dug out the garden to this present day.
Chapter 2 - A Brief History of Space Travel
Prince Yorik Blablahad thought it was a very normal day. After all - waking up, falling into a pit to the middle of the earth, having a close encounter with a pair of dragons, and collapsing is as casual as taking a stroll through the park.
If that park happens to be Jurassic Park, that is.
Strange and inexplicable things often transpire when one is around members of the species known as Draconis Vulgaris. Things which often have no reason at all. For instance, "The Prophet" that these particular Draconis Vulgaris were talking about was actually living on the other side of the known universe. Back in that time, advanced, fast and affordable space transportation was not available. However, a few more years into the future, one would have been available even if one was not available.
This is, of course, impossible, Since a few years more into the future there would have been no future at all.
Nowadays, most sentient, space-faring races throughout the universe utilize the Punwheel technology. This technology is energized by the combination of a clever twist of turbines and electronic relay apparatus, powered by a metallic pinwheel-like object - the rotatory movement of which is generated by a class-two H.A. (Humorous Agent, such as, for instance, Monty Python movies). Being incredibly stupid, these machines keep laughing at the same, tired old jokes, therefore resulting in the continuous quick movement. An unfortunate side effect of these systems is the fact that they trigger the appearance of various items which may only be defined as puns, such as the appearance of the interstellar ruminants known as "Space Sheep". These are accounted for, according to the "Engineering Guide of the University of Technobabblon 6" as a result of "The release of Punnion particles and class-H rays, caused by the high-velocity linear movement the device creates. The rays and particles cause the Tachyon emmiters to go insane, generating the images."
These unfortunate side effects could occasionaly cause insanity, unfortunately, in people who are not used to it. Therefore, misuse of these units often brings a great Pun-ishment upon the Pun-k that dares misuse it.
Other species attempted to use their natural resources as fuel. For instance, somewhere else in the galaxy lies a planet known as Europia. Due to some odd quirk of topography, 90% of which is covered by a mighty desert of butterscotch-flavored sand, and the other 10% consists of an ocean of blueberry juice. The native species of this world belong to an intelligent (and yet extremely stupid) shade of the color purple. They have no emotions at all and a french-like accent, for some mysterious reason. Their original plan was a valiant attempt to locate people that are addicted to butterscotch in order to make them run around in little wheels, thus powering the ships. When this plan has failed, however, they have decided to attempt causing some of their own people to do so. These Europians who decided to volunteer all died from sugar poisoning, and so, eventually, the Europian high council (A bunch of 7 Europians led by a big, blue lump of clay which they refer to as "The Grand Zog") have decided that they would simply develop one. They did that by genetic engineering (In other words, taking a bunch of genes, whirling them in a giant blender, and then threatening them that if they won't evolve into a specific thing, they will be put in a warp core - which, being a painful and obsolete thing, makes an experience which isn't nice at all.
These ships are large and axe-like - a thing which may cause confusion amongst Punwheel-engine users, who often mistake them for Gal-Ax-ies. Europians have the hobby of shooting anything that moves, or not moves. Unfortunately for them, however, "The Encyclopedia of Boneheaded Things" refers to the Europian weapon systems as "Weapons whose approximate chances of hitting anybody or anything they are aimed at are approximately 2 to the power of 2,245,324,122 and a half to 1 against - which totally redefines the meaning of "Very very very improbable". Therefore, when the Europians say they will "Open Fire" - most chances are that their weapons would fire on their own ships - which rather redefines the term "You're Fired!!!"
Large, firebreathing, archosaurian life-forms of the order Draconis Vulgarisuse an ancient and highly secret method for travel - a method that has been banned across the galaxy for being too unperdictable for its own good.
These creatures travel by "spacefolding" - they can travel instantly to every spot on the universe from any other point, without all that tedious mucking-about with puns and genetic engineering.
In order to explain spacefolding, one must take a few mind-boggling courses in the Knowledge Plant University (Home of the Guide for Psychological Greenery), or just forget about it. It will suffice to say that the spacefolder creates laundry creases on the fabric of the universe and somehow utilizes them to rip through the space-time continuum.
The unperdictable side of this is that the folds in the fabric of space-time need to be reflattened. However, since no one has found an iron large enough, The ultimate result is some strange dimensional loopholes. For instance, An alien from Gamma Centauri (who have a strange liking for small shiny objects), while walking around in the swamps of his home planet, suddenly found himself staring at a streak of green light in the sky, a light ripple in the air... And a small, shiny and utterly normal coin appearing out of thin air, and hovering in it on what appeared to be a perfectly normal sidewalk pavement.
However, on Gamma Centauri, the primary currency consisted of small blue plastic pieces with nothing but "Pricktequacktel" (which, in the native language, means "Same Thing we do Every Night, Pinky") written upon their surface. And since THIS particular coin was clearly metallic, silver-colored and had the words "In God We Trust" on it, it made this particular Gamma Centaurian rather curious about its nature. So he touched it, only to be sucked into a space-time crease and end up picking it up from a sidewalk pavement in the middle of a rather busy day in New York City. He quickly managed to fit in and recieved a job as a cab driver - meeting, in the process, a very nice Ursa Minorian girl with luxurious blue hair, deep red eyes, pointy ears and a catlike tail, falling in love, getting married, And the rest is history.
Or in another case, an exceptionally large diamond has spontaneously appeared in the middle of a London alleyway. A resident beggar grabbed the thing quite quickly, only to find himself strandered on the planet Saiyfir - a planet made entirely of gems - and surrounded by half-witted blue creatures with pickaxes for hands. He befriended them, and within a few days made them into a laborforce to mine gems from the planet.
A few years later, this planet became the largest trade center of gems that the universe has ever seen in all the years of its history.
This, of course, made that particular street beggar extremely rich - So rich he could have bought the only confirmed existing specimen of the universe's rarest mineral - The legendary red diamond known as the Excalbium.
A few months later there were hundreds of Excalbium stones found, since it turned out that the planet of Saiyfir was in fact, the rock where this rock originated.
This, of course, made things rather painful for treasure-hunters who found their skills unneccesary, And all these barbaric fun-loving ruffians who'd do anything to get their hands on a real treasure found themselves out of job too. So the Guild of Treasure-Hunters and Barbaric-Fun-Loving-Ruffians-Who'd-Do-Anything-To-Get-Their-Hands-On-A-Real-Treasure began a long strike.
Eventually they took the former street beggar to court for trying to put them out of business illegally. The trial lasted for seven and a half standard galactic months, until the defendant said a word that made the heads of the prosecution explode and thus ended the case forever.
Curiously enough, the word was "Monopoly", which pretty much explains what this guy had on gems out of Earth after the case closed.
Meanwhile, on Earth, the disappearance of that particular Once-Beggar-And-Now-Intergalactic-Jewel-Tycoon has caused many a supernaturalist to quarrel over the reasons for the disappearance, although some have claimed to have seen a blue streak rip through the sky and a strange ripple ot the air before it happened.
Of course, no one believed them.
This utterly meaningless episode was only written to answer the question of how in the passage of a mere episode, two medium-sized dragons and an unconcious prince of the Blablahad family of Eureka on the world known as Been-There-Done-That-Prime were ripping through space, en route to the dark mists of the evil twilight world of... Earth Two.
Chapter 1 - The Awakening
This is the tale of what was before - before the great disaster. This is the tale of the events which invoked the very time paradox that caused all squirrels on Been-There-Done-That Prime to be suddenly and spontaneously replaced with cuckoos.
It was a time of chivalry - a time when great knights roamed the land, fighting their way into power, getting drunk at local inns, conducting medical experiments on small, yellow rodents, and rescuing beautiful monsters in distress from ravenous, ferocious damsels. Perhaps the most famous tale of that time is that of the two medium-sized dragons of Eureka - whom, along with the great (well, sort of) knight Sir Blablahad, embarked on a senseless quest... Erm, sorry, I mean "an epic journey", to slay the two legendary princes of... Erm... Ok, so it's not that great a story, But you'll listen to it anyway, since it's so bloody related to the reason the cuckoo infestation began.
Prince Yorik of Eureka has awakened to another sunny day (for at that time, there still WAS time to speak of).
"Why must I live with this stupid name?" He muttered to himself "I loathe ye, Willyawn Tremblepike!"
This, of course, was the name of a great poet, usually referred to as "The Bird". One of his plays, "Hamlet" (Which, mysteriously, translated to the native language as "The Great Tub of Cement"), had a particularily infamous scene in which the main character mumbles "Alas, Poor Yorik... Yadda-Yadda-Yadda..." under his breath whilst juggling three skulls. This particular Yorik - Not the Tremblepikean one, but the prince - was, as the matter of fact the son of the queen, but not of the king. He has been the son of the king's brother's cousin's former roommate, which the queen was apparantly having an affair with, and this is how the queen was banished and sent to wander endlessly within the Ocean of Soup - A large foggy swamp, a few meters away from the capital. However, this "brother's cousin's former roommate" was in fact the king himself, in disguise, who set the whole ordeal up to give him a convenient excuse to dispose of that blasted woman. However, since the illegal child (which actually WAS a legal child) has been born beforehand, the king decided he wanted to dispose of HIM as well, and so he named him Yorik, after the dead guy, in the hopes the deities would take the hint.
They never did.
And unbeknowst to all parties involved, this has been the first event that caused the tremor of the time sequence.
After this rather senseless and obscure comment was uttered, Prince Yorik of Eureka settled down, stretched, had a nice cup of coffee, and then walked out of the tower his room was in and found himself (to his great surprise) in process of falling into a large pit, inconveniently located where the courtyard once used to be. After falling the few thousands of vertical feet down through layers and layers of ground and eventually crashing on a tall pile of conveniently placed Zeltronian Ultra-Cushions, the sight he saw was nothing short of shocking.
Within the mighty cavernous hole he found himself in, there was nothing but a small, perfectly normal-looking hut. Which naturally indicated that normality itself has been out for lunch for quite a while.
"What in Hell's blazes..." the prince muttered, and as he walked into the hut, he found himself inside a gigantic hall which, according to all sets of laws that may govern physics, could not have fit inside it. A cuckoo clock, which was occupied at that time by a squirrel, was ticking on the wall.
And soon enough, he found himself staring at two immense... No, wait, gigantic... No, actually they were just reasonably large, firebreathing archosaurian lifeforms belonging to the order Draconis Vulgaris. Or, in laymen's terms - two average-to-medium sized dragons. And these two particular Draconis Vulgaris were, at the moment, sitting at a table and playing what appeared to be a friendly game of Neoxian Mega-Chess.
"The Universal Guide of Useless Games" by William C, Backgammon defines "Neoxian Mega-Chess" as "An alternate dimension ripoff of chess, played on three 250x250 square boards situated above each other, with 120 possible types of pieces for each player. A single game of Neoxian Mega Chess is absolutely impossible to win, unless both participants live forever, spend a lifetime playing the game and posess a lot of mind and willpower not to go insane as a result. Quite a frustrating game to play, it is also mysteriously enjoyable, and is, due to its dangerous nature, mainly played as a pastime for either suicidal people who do not wish to kill themselves in a way that will pain them or by taking sleep pills, or by creatures trapped forever in underground caverns guarding silly objects for no apparant reason at all."
"B5 to B-17. Checkmate." Said one of them, who was green and had larger ear-crests than his companion, in an aggravating mock-British accent.
The other Draconis Vulgaris, a blue specimen with a ridge going along its tail and ending in a strange fringe, simply grunted, blowing a whiff of vapor at the mega-chessboard, knocking all the assorted game pieces off of it in the process.
"No need to be so vulgar, Zotzbrue." Said the first one "You've lost fair and square."
"Oh, THAT'S nice to hear." Zotzbrue muttered, in the same aggravating accent (but a different voice) "Do you not know sprinkling salt into other people's wounds is quite an unhounourable thing to do, Byxebyte?"
"I highly doubt dragons count as people, My esteemed colleague." Byxebyte raised a scaly eyeridge.
"Humph." Was all that Zotzbrue had to say.
"Another game, perhaps?" Byxebyte offered.
"No thank you, Byxebyte. I've had enough of this. We've been doomed to be trapped in this confounded underground cavern guarding the blasted squirrel clock, and I've had quite enough of this mad-house game." Zotzbrue muttered "Speaking of which, where are the big, stony walls?"
The two dragons poked their heads out the window and raised their head to the ceiling, to find out that indeed, there wasn't one.
"Hey, there's SKY above us!" Byxebyte gasped "Our jail has been breached! This means we are finally free to finish our great battle with the two evil princes of Fliegnitz!"
"Last time we've tried that, we've gotten ourselves cooped up in here for ALMOST eternity." Zotzbrue muttered "Now, what did that prophet say? 'When your jail shall be breached, the first one whom you shalt meet shalt be of the family Blablahad of Eureka, and it is he that shall be the knight who will help you in your fight against the two princes, if he shall live that long?"
"Quite so, I'm afraid." Byxebyte said in a regretful tone. "With the confounded clock matter, however, I'm not sure how will we ever leave this place... After all, we WERE specifically told to make sure that this squirrel doesn't transform into a cuckoo, because, this being the core of this accursed world, if it goes cuckoo, time will go COMPLETELY mental, I reckon."
"Shush! The readers are not supposed to know that yet!" Zotzbrue exclaimed, effectively shattering the fourth wall, and giving Byxebyte a sharp look.
"Have you read the prologue for this story by any chance? They know all of that rubbish already. And besides, I've already said it, and I do not think the author plans on changing me speech anytime soon." Byxebyte replied nonchalantly, effectively grinding whatever remained of the fourth wall into fine dust.
As Zotzbrue was beginning to say "You may have a point there," he was interrupted by the squirrel leaping out of the clock and squeaking five times before diving back into its chronometric lair.
"Oh dear, tea time." Byxebyte said.
"We're out of tea." Zotzbrue said, and roared frightfully. "AND A DRAGON WITHOUT TEA AT TEA TIME IS A STEAMING, ANGRY ONE!"
Then he blinked, and turned his head to Byxebyte with a questioning gaze. "Oh dear me, has my text colour just changed?" he asked apologetically, effectively reducing the dust that remained of the fourth wall into a whole medley of disoriented sub-atomic particles.
"That seems to be the case, good chap. Seems all better now, but we'd best get some tea before it happens again. That would be most unfortunate. Hey you, human. Mind doing us a favour and getting us any..."
The realization suddenly hit Byxebyte. Human. There was a human in the room, the first one they have seen in a while. And they were just talking about him, too.
He felt like one who has just spoken of the devil, utterly failing to notice that it has been standing in the room for several minutes, and that it was currently tapping a hoof against the floor agitatedly, its arms crossed in front of its chest.
There was a small silence.
"If I may inquire, are you perchance a member of the family Blablahad?" Asked Byxebyte, eventually.
A thousand different thoughts raced through Yorik's mind when the dragon turned to him and asked him a direct question. 300 of them were about running away screaming (in various possible directions and escape routes). An additional 500 were about various methods of death (including incineration by many different forms of flame, being bitten or clawed in many different ways, or just spontaneously dropping dead of the sheer shock of it all). 100 were about cowering in fear, mumbling incoherently and losing concsiousness, 99 were about losing concsiousness without even bothering with mumbling incoherently, and a single one was about a swarm of green pixies wearing nothing but fuzzy party hats, flying across the Ocean of Soup and senselessly chattering in Gaelic.
For you see, when one is confronted by a large creature, the likes of which he has been told never to meddle in the affairs of, "for he is crunchy and tasted well with ketchup", one seldom thinks logically.
For a single second entertaining himself with the notion of the green pixies again, he then chose the only logical course of action he could think of.
He cowered in fear and rapidly blurted out "I... quite am. Prince Yorik Blablahad, sixty-ninth prince of the Royal Kingdom of Eureka, founded 969 BBTDTPCE (Translation - Before Been-There-Done-That-Prime-Common-Era), All rights reserved to Gad Deutsch, 2001-2008."
... And then, he lost concsiousness.
"It is quite amazing, the way a human begins to speak as fast as a speeding bullet when confronted by dragons..." Zotzbrue said, with a semi-yawn.
"Poor thing." Byxebyte said "I believe we should take him to the Prophet."
Or - A tale of Two Princes, A Princess, A Frog, A Toad, One or Two Medium Sized Dragons and a Terrible Truth...
Somewhere along the notorious rim of the galaxy, within a notorious time-warp, lies a notorious planet known as "Been-There-Done-That Prime".
This planet has a problem. Because of the time warp, whenever one tries to do something that they have never done before - one would do it quite well, because they've already done it in the past, and so on, and so forth.
This, of course, creates a greater problem - if anybody accuses anybody else of anything - they would state that they have done it, and add quite an exquisite, detailed description.
As this phenomenon causes many, even more complex problems in the penal system, all people native to this planet are lawyers - prisons were not effective, because everybody had a prison break in their history.
This is, of course, impossible, as all lawyers of all cultures were tossed into deep space through a large collective airlock, back in the times of the great awakening of 4 PO (Post-Office, a new time standard. The first year of it, numbered 0 PO, begun exactly when the last postal worker has been murdered - through means of bureaucracy - by lawyers).
However, since all the natives of Been-There-Done-That-Prime have survived being thrown into deep space, the planet is not as dead as it should be.
The ultimate result of all this is that if anybody woke up in the morning and found their garden in just the wrong shade of orange - the entire planet was guilty as charged.
As this time-paradox creates (as mentioned above) a whole chain of problems, an outsider visiting the planet would probably go "nuts".
"The Guide of Psychological Greenery" of the Knowledge Plant (A university which, quite surprisingly, is entirely carved inside a huge mega-sequoia tree) defines "Nuts" as "Small fruits which are insane and are usually eaten by squirrels, who are also insane, because their forefathers came from the planet of Abarbanel IV - a planet where nuts are packed inside huge briefcases known as 'Nut-Cases'.
By eating nuts, The squirrels have the benefit of becoming temporarily sane. This is accounted for by simple arithmetic.
Consider, for a while, the nuts and the squirrels as a "-" symbolizing insanity. By combining (thus - the squirrels eat the nuts), two "-" form a "+", symbolizing sanity.
Sadly, a squirrel must eat nuts every ten minutes or so to maintain sanity, or else, it goes totally cuckoo. And since mammals and birds are both vertebrates, a forest full of squirrels might just become full of cuckoo birds when its supply of nuts runs too low."
Some people say that this entirely insane time-paradox is caused by a cuckoo clock, somewhere deep in the heart of the planet.
Chapter 2: A Chase Through the Night~*~
Near the end of autumn, Fortree becomes a mosaic of green, red and gold, as the trees whose leaves turn golden at autumn stand out impressively against the evergreen trees around them. The winds become stronger and chillier, and the leaves seem to rustle in anticipation for the coming rainier days. It is a time of preparation for the PokeMon as well - a time in which Linoones and Poochyenas dig themselves new dens in which to find shelter from the rain, and in the nearby Route 119, herds of wild Tropius would stand and spread their large wing-like leaves, taking in as much sunlight as they could before winter would come. As for the humans, they would check the stability of their houses and platforms and reinforce them. It was an extremely rare occurrence that a storm would strike powerfully enough to disrupt their stability, of course, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
That is what Riley was doing that particular afternoon - she was taught how to do it back when her parents were around more often. It wasn't a complicated matter - simply making sure the platforms were securely bolted and tied to the tree trunks. The devices that made this possible were a bizarre mix of metal bolts, suspension cables and organic growth boosted by Grass-type PokeMon. In some of the older houses of Fortree, the trees have grown so thickly around the metal that one could barely tell them apart anymore.
Riley finished her examinations to find her house still in rather perfect shape. She smiled in satisfaction, when suddenly her eyes caught sight of a trainer walking into the city - a trainer that she had most certainly seen before - long, red hair and all. He passed right under her house, not paying her any mind, tightly clutching a worn-looking PokeBall - one that seemed older than the rest of the ones hanging on his belt - in his right hand. Something about the way he moved suggested that he was quite edgy - like he was ready to bolt at any second. He paused, sending quick sideway glances as if to make sure that he wasn't being followed, and then vanished from her line of sight behind one of the nearby trees.
Something wasn't right, she thought, but she didn't know quite what it was.
That evening, the Machop came back. Riley learned not to anticipate his comings and goings - he was a wild thing, and was (from what she managed to figure out) on some kind of a soul-searching-training-quest. At times, he'd visit her house multiple times a day, and at times he'd vanish for weeks. With every return trip, the Machop seemed to be stronger and more confident - and more knowledgeable of fighting techniques. He seemed to have developed himself a focused, silent and quick style for movement and battle. He's grown a bit taller, and his head-crests were larger and more fully-formed than they were when she first encountered him. The plumes on his neck and elbows were growing thicker and more plentiful. He had a few thin scratches on his scaly skin, but nothing too major. The few scars it had were rather faded by now - many thanks to the natural regeneration rate of PokeMon - one which was significantly faster than that of humans.
During the few months that have passed, Riley and he have formed some kind of a bond. To the Machop, Riley's house was a safe place to be in for him - a place where he could find healing when he was injured in a way that a few berries and a good night's sleep couldn't cure with ease. She was rather surprised when he began those occasional visits, but she helped him as much as she could - and in time, she found that she rather enjoyed it. She liked the Machop's company and was rather impressed at having a chance to watch it grow and progress in its training from a more personal angle. There were times in which she even wondered if she would ever get to see it in an actual battle.
That time was closer than she had ever believed.
The trainer left Fortree at night, as quickly as he came in. The news he received has left him greatly distraught. How in the world have they chased him here? How could have they found out who he really was? Those were but two of the many questions that troubled his mind as he lightly treaded through the grassy Route 120, occasionally taking a quick look around, as if danger could leap out of any shade.
Silently pacing by his side was a large, ivory-colored equine with a long, silvery horn and hooves that were as black as coal but as hard as diamond. The Rapidash snorted softly and shook her head, her flaming mane and tail casting a gentle light on the path ahead.
"I know, I know..." the trainer said silently, but in reassuring tones "I just hope that there's no reason to..."
And then, a Hyper Beam zoomed by -a golden blast of pure kinetic energy, brightly illuminating the path in its glow, narrowly missing his head and impacting a large rock, breaking it to chunks that flew in random directions, as if the rock was shattered by the fist of an angry giant.
"I didn't have to miss, you know... I could have hit if I wanted. I just wanted to give you a fair warning, Silver."
The trainer froze. He hasn't been called that ever since he left Johto. He left that name behind him. He left that life behind him. And he had known that voice.
He turned around slowly to meet the eyes of his attacker - and his eyes widened.
"Oh come on, don't act all surprised about it. Did you really think that he wouldn't find out where you went? Hiding behind an assumed identity won't help you, Silver. It would be better for everyone if you had just surrendered and came peacefully."
"I've already told you, I don't know where my father is -no one knows where he is. I've never even met the man. He might be dead for all I know. I don't know why that person thinks that if hell catch me, hell manage to flush my father out of hiding, but let me tell you here and now - it won't work. Im not sure he even knows that he has a son. And I am quite definitely not going to let myself be captured by some self-righteous weakling who cowers behind lackeys who would do his every bidding like some kind of trained puppies..."
Another Hyper Beam shot by his head - so close that his hair was ruffled by the shrieking wind that was pushed to make way for the blast.
"Say anything to that sort again, Silver, and my little friend here wouldn't be so... inaccurate."
This "little friend" was, as the matter of fact, not so little - or friendly, for that matter. Pearly-white fangs bared in a vicious snarl, a canine creature stepped out of the shadows to take position behind its master, towering over the human. With every movement, heavy muscles rippled under its thick coat of deep orange fur, black strips running through it like the fur of a tiger. Patches of light golden fur adorned its chest, legs and muzzle, and its mane and bushy tail were in the same shade of light gold. The beast walked in a regal, intimidating manner, never taking its dark, piercing eyes off its prospective opponents and growling in a sinister way. The Rapidash snorted again, scratching against the ground nervously with her hooves. Silver gently patted the fire horse's neck, calming her down. He reassuringly smiled at her - deep within him, seeds of fear were gradually sprouting, but he knew that he couldn't afford to let his enemy see that.
"Proving my point?" he finally half-smirked "I didn't know that he was hiding behind an actual puppy nowadays."
"You have crossed me and my employer for the last time, Silver. You will come with us, by hook or by crook. Resistance is useless. I know what PokéMon you carry with you. I guarantee that none of them have a chance against Garm. He's far too fast or powerful for any of your medley of oddities to tackle."
"Oh, so it's speed you're interested in?" Silver grinned, then, in a fluid motion, he mounted the Rapidash and glared defiantly "Well then... Catch me if you can! Onwards, Akari!"
The fire horse reared up and neighed powerfully into the night. Her front hooves struck the ground, sending sparks of fire and dust into the air - and then she bolted forward in a fast gallop, jumping over the snarling, growling Arcanine and his trainer and dashing up the nearby path towards the mountains.
"Garm," Said the trainer "Both of them must be caught alive. Don't use fire attacks -that horse would only absorb them into itself. If you're going for ranged attacks, use Hyper Beams. Now, GO!"
The Arcanine barked fiercely into the night and charged, following the Rapidash's trail.
The trainer turned and left without a word. Garm would know where to find him when the job was done. He wasn't the finest tracker PokeMon he had ever known for no reason.
A Hyper Beam seared through the night, impacting the cliff's wall, breaking chunks of it off and sending them hurtling towards the rider and his mount. The Rapidash neighed, jumping out of the path of the rocks as they impacted, her rider hanging on for dear life, guiding her movements as much as he could. "That one was close! He's gaining on us!" he cried out, and the fire horse snorted, quickening her pace as much as she could. The flames on her body were burning at twice their usual intensity, casting orange and red reflections upon her silvery horn. The wind was fierce around them, but even through the whistling of the wind, Silver could hear the huge canine creature's padded feet crunching through the gravel and dust of the mountain path just around the corner. He could hear its heavy breathing as it gave chase, and its occasional loud and menacing bark. Cold sweat was running down his forehead as all thoughts seemed to perish in his mind, except for the primal urge to survive - to escape the huge predator that was chasing him - a thought that appeared to have been mirrored by his mount. Turning his head backwards for a second, his eyes widened as he noticed the Arcanine was indeed gaining on them, its body surrounded by a faint blue nimbus, its form blurring behind it as it ran - it has invoked its ExtremeSpeed technique and was making quite a good use of it. The Arcanine barked, opening its mouth and gathering energy into it. Then, another Hyper Beam blasted out. The Rapidash jumped, narrowly dodging the attack, and quickened her pace again.
She ran like the wind, leaping over obstacles as if she felt them before she saw them. She tackled the curves of the path as if they weren't there, not slowing down for an instant. And every once in a while, another Hyper Beam zoomed by followed by even more rock-dodging. Rider and mount, adrenaline coursing madly through their body, charged on through the mountain path. And the Arcanine followed their trail like a bloodhound, barking angrily as it gave chase and firing more and more Hyper Beams.
Silver felt his Rapidash beginning to tire -her breathing was hoarse and her flames were gradually losing their strength. "Hold on, Akari, we're almost... LOOK OUT!"
The Rapidash neighed in panic as she noticed the fact that she was, in fact, charging directly towards the end of the path. There was nothing ahead but a huge gap between one mountain path and another, and a long, painful fall. Silver's knees tightened instantaneously around the Rapidash's body as he spurred her onwards. He knew that it was a fall they weren't likely to survive if they didn't manage to do it. But all logic perished as he flattened his body against the fire horse's back and yelled out two simple words.
The Arcanine's footfall was light and he was barking triumphantly. Oh, he could sense their panic. He could sense the scent of sweat and adrenaline in the air. He could sense that his prey was soon to be tired out and captured. His master would be so pleased... Opening his mouth, he began charging another Hyper Beam... One hit would be enough to knock them down. Maybe even take a tumble to a lower level of the path. Yes, the master wanted them alive. But he never said anything about unharmed now, did he?
The Rapidash neighed wildly, and in a moment, the flames of her mane and tail burned with renewed intensity, their orange coloration shifting to blue as oxygen surged through them. The flames around her legs burst into an aura of blue fire, surrounding her hooves. She snorted in determination as her trainer wrapped his arms tightly around her body. Blue sparks were flying in her wake as her hooves left the ground.
The Rapidash seemed to fly, every source of flame that was in her body pointing the fire backwards, propelling her body forwards like a jet engine. For a while, all Silver could see was flames rushing around him - parting harmlessly around him to prevent him from being burnt - and an occasional spot of darkness. The winds whistled, and the Rapidash took in all the air she could, intensifying the blue oxygen flame.
Time seemed to stand still in those few moments of suspension between heaven and earth.
And then, her front hooves impacted rocky ground in a burst of sparks, flame and tiny rock fragments that echoed through the mountains. The oxygen flame went out in seconds, giving way to a weak, but still burning orange flames as the Rapidash galloped on.
They were safe. That was all Silver could think of when he opened his eyes.
"C'mon, Akari... Let's find ourselves somewhere to crash... You've really earned some rest today..." Silver smiled affectionately at the Rapidash. She snorted in response, seemingly too busy galloping to safety -but he could see that she was, as much as a horse can, smiling.
The Arcanine charged forward, taking aim. The sphere of energy that gathered in his mouth was really large by now, and he was ready to fire it at any moment. Then he yelped, skidding to a halt, its eyes widening in surprise as it witnessed something that could not have been possible. The Rapidash was all but flying over the gap. It simply didn't make sense! Horses aren't supposed to fly, especially not exhausted ones!
The Arcanine sat down on the middle of the path and howled in frustration. It did not occur to the Arcanine for a single second that it had a Hyper Beam in formation inside its mouth, and that firing an un-aimed Hyper Beam in a mountainous region may, say, have a disastrous effect such as, say, knocking certain arrays of rocks out of an extremely delicate balance and triggering a massive rock slide that would be no small feat to clear out.
Of course, when the rocks started rolling from above and smashing violently into the path, and he was hard-pressed to use all of his agility to escape the avalanche, the thought HAD occurred to him, but at that time, he was too busy avoiding being crushed by aforementioned falling rocks to give it much pondering.
Such is, as they say, a dog's life.
Chapter 1: And So It Begins...~*~
The day came and went as days usually do. Summer was drawing to an end and fall was gradually approaching, and so a pleasant chill was in the air. The random PokeMon, skittering to and fro in the forest that Fortree was built in were carrying on with their lives. Most of them avoided the human settlement - but the birds were, as usual, everywhere.
Sunset is a time of transformation in Fortree. The rays of the dying sun paint the forest in a brilliant myriad of golden tones, and the sounds of day are replaced with the sounds of night. The constant birdsong was softly fading into silence, while in the distance, in Route 120, Poochyenas began to howl - as the creatures of a nocturnal life cycle were awakening to emerge from their hiding places. And of course, there was the inexplicable, but omnipresent feeling of magic in the air.
Riley loved sunsets. She'd often sit on the bench in front of her house and gaze at the sky at sunset, basking in its last drops of warmth. However, this particular sunset, Riley was inside, with a half-empty glass of ice-cold mint tea, and was frantically flipping through the pages of an old book. The creature she has seen while she was out picking berries could not have been anything else than what she was particularly looking for. It didn't take a PokeDex to recognize.
Sure enough, after a few minutes she finally found the page. There she stared at the art that adorned it. The creature wasn't caught in exact accuracy at the artistic interpretation, but the general lines were there. Red eyes, lined with gold. Dark grey fur - so dark it seemed black, covering its face, standing out in particular against the background of somewhat longer, snowy white fur covering the rest of its form. Its body and face were a strange mixture of feline and lupine features - like a cross of a wolf and a mountain lion, so to speak - with strange, draconic legs, each adorned with three wicked-looking claws. Out of one side of its head protruded a long, obsidian scythe-like horn, and at the tip of a short stub of a tail there was a similar scythe-like obsidian blade.
It was an Absol, a PokeMon which in mythology has always played the role of a harbinger of disaster. Absols were extremely rare to come by - on occasion a report would be heard of a traveler stumbling upon one of the creatures on Route 120, but these dark-types generally preferred to remain on the nearby mountain ranges. Spotting an Absol has been traditionally a warning that something was coming, because the stories rooted Absols coming down from their mountain homes when natural disasters were about to strike. Their fascinating attunement to nature has been under heavy research, but no conclusive results have ever been reached.
Riley closed the book, replaced it in whatever bookcase she picked it from with a sigh, and drank the rest of her tea. She was never the superstitious type - but the memory of the morning, with the movement that caught her eyes, left her edgy.
She would sleep lightly that night.
A sound of clattering woke Riley up. She didn't need to check the clock to know it was the middle of the night, and that there was something - or someone - in her house that shouldn't have been there.
She silently climbed out of bed, quickly draping her robe around herself - and reached under her bed, fumbling a bit until she found it - It was a somewhat heavy stick of wood that she kept hidden there for just such an occasion. It wasn't much for a deterrent, but if she had the element of surprise, she could stun the intruder faster than you could say 'Breaking and Entering'.
Riley sneaked nervously through the shadows. It was dark, but some light from the small lamps that adorned the platforms still filtered through the windows from outside. She did not want to risk being caught by the invader. She looked around, noticing much to her dismay that some things have been knocked over. So far nothing seemed to have been taken, but Riley was determined to find the intruder before it managed to take anything.
She caught another movement in the corner of her eye. She peered around a corner to one of the barely illuminated walls. There was a shadow on that wall - tall and human-shaped. Something seemed a bit off about it, but she couldn't tell what. Its hair, maybe, didn't seem quite right on the silhouette. The shadow vanished as whatever being that cast it started moving again.
She started hearing footsteps. Whatever it was was on its way there. Rapidly.
She slipped into the nearest room, hiding by the doorframe, and swung the stick, ready to land it on whatever would have entered. Adrenaline rushed through her body. She closed her eyes, focusing, and took a deep breath...
And before she could even open her eyes, she felt something rush by. Without thinking - or aiming - she swung the stick and hit something. The attack met its mark as whatever it was made a small sound - more of surprise than of pain, and landed on the floor with a rolling THUMP. So, whoever it was jumped through the door.
Jumped. Something was wrong here, as Riley knew when she opened her eyes. Surely enough, there was an unconscious humanoid figure lying face-down on the floor - but it was not human. Something about the proportions wasn't right, and the figure was small, roughly the size of a child. And in the faint light, its skin had a light glisten to it that skin did not have...
But scales had.
Riley's eyes widened in shock when she realized what she just hit. She rushed to the figure's side and picked it up, carrying it into the living room and setting it gently on one of the sofa. Turning on the light, she opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a Potion spray bottle and a book. Then, she returned to the sofa to have a better look.
The creature's body was thin but muscled, and covered head-to-toe with smooth, greenish-gray scaly skin. Its hands and feet seemed to be tipped with small claws, and its face had a strange, reptillian quality to it. A row of three small crests - obviously a youngster - adorned the top of its head, and it had a short, lizardlike tail. On closer inspection, she could see the small fangs of a young predator - or omnivore - and slight hints of plumes growing around the creature's elbows and the back of its head. She also couldn't help but notice the fact that the creature's ribs seemed to somewhat stick out of its sides. "It must have been foraging for food..." she thought "Poor thing..."
She then turned the creature's still body over, looking for the bruise on the back of its head - sure enough, it was there. There was a slight lump in a rather fetching shade of purple on its head. With a sigh, Riley pointed the spray bottle's nuzzle towards the bruise and sprayed its contents on the bruise. The sophisticated combination of pain-killers and tissue-regeneration boosters began doing its work almost immediately. The creature's limp body tensed - it was a natural response - before sinking into oblivion of the senses again, as the bruise started fading away and the swelling in the back of its head seemed to cool down and begin a gradual fadeout. Riley smiled. It was going to be all right.
"Alright, my friend, let's just see what you are..."
A single pair of red eyes opened, blurrily winking as their owner was busy getting his bearings. The first thought he had was that he was lying on something soft. There was a soft pounding in the back of his head, but oddly enough, he felt as if he should have had an even greater headache. He surveyed his form, checking his body for injuries. And then the smell of food registered in his mind.
And another scent which he didn't know.
He turned his head to observe the strange surroundings. How did he come to be here? All thoughts suddenly perished when he saw the platter left behind on the table. It was full of berries of various sorts - they looked really appetizing, and he was hungry. Part of his mind screamed to him that it might be a trap - too many unfamiliar scents in the air. But hunger eventually overtook common sense, and he began eating at a frivolous pace. Then, suddenly, he froze and turned his head to the door. Standing at it was a human female - whose eyes seemed to sparkle when she saw him, and began a gradual approach towards him.
"Good morning, Machop... Are you feeling any better? I see you already found the food I left for you."
Curses! He knew that he was in trouble now. Looking around, everything clicked into place. This was a human's lair - and that particular human's territory. Memories of last night began creeping quietly into its mind - a few days after leaving the colony, driven half-crazed by hunger, the Machop made its way into a human settlement. Seeking food it entered the only place that seemed abandoned at that hour. It found nothing, and then was the pain and it fell unconscious. He recalled the faint smell of the human before the pain came - The human, he realized, must have defended its territory from an intruder - and the intruder was him. The human was probably going to finish him off now for not leaving immediately. However, the human's approach seemed more friendly than intimidating.
"It's okay... I'm not going to hurt you..." He heard the human say. The Machop did not understand a word she said, of course, but something in her tone of voice made it let its guard down, just a bit. She meant him no harm - and he let her come near him. In her hands, he suddenly realized, were a few more berries.
"I've got you some more, if you'd like..." She said, putting them on the platter. The Machop sniffed one out suspiciously, then ate. The human gave the Machop its space as it at, seeming to realize it was stressed. Humans - what strange creatures they were, welcoming one into their territory right before defending it against one. Or at least, so was this human. The Machop didn't know much about humans, and did his best not to generalize.
She seemed to be aware of his hurts, and was tending for them - much like a more grown member of the colony would have done for one of the youngsters or the elderly when they were in need. The Machop allowed itself to relax a bit. He felt that he could trust this human. He smiled experimentally at the human, and she returned a wide smile. "You should rest a bit, then, you're welcome to stay - or go - as you wish. Just be careful not to break and enter any more houses." she added with a gentle laugh, to make the Machop know she had no hard feelings.
The Machop felt safe. It edged closer to the human and tentatively reached out its hand and looked into the human's eyes. The human's eyes seemed to widen, then her smile became brighter as she took his hand in hers and gently shook it.
And the Fortree sun shone over a new, if unlikely, friendship.
(PokéMon) (Incomplete) This was an attempt of mine to write a trainer fic based in Hoenn, set around a continuity of my own. Tragically, in spite of multiple plans and a whole chronology developed for it, the story ended up dying. To this day, I never managed to write any more of it. I want to, but don't get your hopes up.~*~
The sounds of battle were all too loud to ignore. Earth and Sea clashed in a spectacular storm of the elements. People, panicked by the appearance of the beasts near their coasts, tried to flee before the rushing tide. Some managed to escape before the storm claimed them, while others were lost to it, the stories of their lives sealed forver by a conflict which was too ancient for any of them to understand.
And then the sky has opened, and the dragon, surrounded by an aura of emerald-green light, descended from the heavens. Thunder and wind fled before it - Wherever the dragon went, the skies were as clear and blue as in midday.
The dragon's eyes, yellow as a cat's, oriented upon the avatars of Earth and Sea, slit pupils narrowing when it observed the clash of these two great beasts - ancient runic line patterns flowing across their streamlined bodies. The Dragon turned its eyes to the Avatar of the Sea, The ancient, oceanborn creature's massive, winglike pectoral fins flapping in powerful strokes, forming great vortexes within the water, preventing its opponent from getting close enough to use its bulk for the battle. It breathed, and a great waterspout blasted to the sky from its back - the water falling down again in massive, torrential rainfalls around it. The Avatar of Earth - droplets of water fizzling and evaporating when they came in contact with its burning-hot red armor - roared to the heavens, the blue lines upon its armor burning with fierce earthpower. The sun's rays intensified, cutting sharply through the veil of rainclouds. The Avatar of Earth basked in their radiance, gathering the power of the sun into an orb between its huge, claw-tipped hands. The light flowed across the lines in its armor, brilliant white taking the place of blue...
The Avatar of Earth opened its mouth and a searing ray of sunlight burst forth, cleaving through the rain and hitting the Avatar of the Sea. The creature roared, revealing rows of sharp teeth, as the power of Solar Beam burned through its smooth skin. The Avatar of the Sea retreated into the depths, red lines shining upon its body as the creature entered a meditative state - clearing its ancient mind, focusing its energies for the battle. Then, as its wounds became a trivial matter and cold determination filled its mind, it burst from the ocean with a freezing ray aimed directly at the Avatar of the Earth.
And the battle continued, ancient and unending. Deep within its mind, the Dragon knew that something had to happen to break the stalemate - the balance must be restored, lest the entire region, if not the entire world, shall be destroyed by the skirmish of these titans.
The Dragon's eyes closed as it drew the residual energy of the elemental storms towards itself, forging them into a new equilibrium, attuning them to the cold, dark depths of the ocean and the radiant, burning depths of the earth. Weaving them between his claws into twin orbs of pure crystal, mysterious energies swirling within their red and blue depths.
And lo, the orbs' power blazed to life, shining out and touching the avatars of earth and sea - harmonizing with the melody of their souls and quelling their rage.
And thus the world has been balanced yet again. The avatars vanished into the unknown, their tale carried out in history - which became legend and then mythology. The Orbs have been entrusted to the care of humans - to keep them safe should they be needed again, and to keep the equilibrium in place. And as for the dragon - its mission accomplished, it has returned to the sky from whence it came. For a moment it seemed to flicker like a bright green star in the sky, before it vanished into heights that the human eye cannot percieve.
The image faded into the sound of birdsong. The constant chirping of Taillows or Swablus, perhaps both, was a common thing in the lives of those who chose to make their living in Fortree City, sharing their treetop homes with the many birds that nested in the area. Attempting to disturb nature as little as possible, the original settlers of Fortree constructed their wooden homes upon large platforms upon the branches of the great ancient trees, connected to each other by a series of rope bridges. Only a few buildings were located at ground level and constructed in a more traditional style - namely the PokeMon Center and the local PokeMart, located at the outskirts of the woodland area the city resided in, and the Gym, which was located at a large clearing roughly at the center of the town - and was home to Winona, whose Flying-types' graceful aerial ballet in battle became a major spectacle for many of Fortree's dwellers.
Though the sun has barely begun to rise, the girl awakened, the cool morning air sending a slight chill up her spine as she slid out of the covers and slipped a forest-green robe around her slender form, obscuring its exposed, lightly freckled curves from any prying eyes. Her feet slid into a pair of matching fuzzy slippers. She stretched thoroughly, like a hunting cat, and then stepped out of the treehouse onto the platform it stood on. She sat down on a small bench, gently brushing a few strands of her red hair away from her midnight-blue eyes and turned her gaze to the heavens, sighing to herself for no apparant reason.
"That dream again." she thought "The avatars of Earth and Sea, and the Guardian of the Heavens... I've been reading WAY too much mythology lately, I guess... The only mention of the avatars recently were those unexplainable weather patterns in the Sootopolis region two years ago, and the theory they had something to do with the awakening of one of the Avatars. And that was just a theory..."
With a sigh, she muttered to herself "Riley Andrea Archer, you DEFINITELY need to stop reading so much Mythology before you go to sleep."
Her train of thought came to a screeching halt when she caught a sudden movement in the trees just out of the corner of her eye. Quickly turning her head to its point of origin, she barely managed to notice a small, grey-ish humanshaped outline zip into the lower branches in a rustle of leaves. And then there was silence.
"What the shadows was that?" she thought, narrowing her eyes "Well, whatever it was, it wasn't human.... Or a bird... Strange..."
Still wondering about the creature's identity, the girl turned her head to the sky yet again, watching the slowly rising sun as a small pack of Taillows flew over her head, headed for route 120 in the distance. It seemed to be just another ordinary day.
Or was it?
The light of morning sun, filtering through the leaves, cast a green shade on the Fortree City Gym. It was still rather early, but the Gym was already open for challenges, and a rather confident looking trainer walking through the forest below heading towards the gym was definitely about to give Winona one.
"Well, looks like I get to watch the first fight of the morning." She grinned. Her house was located not too far from the large clearing where the Gym was, which gave her an excellent view of the battles. She wondered what kind of PokeMon would she get to see in action today. The gym seemed to have surprises for her every day.
"It starts." she thought when she heard the low hum of the Gym's roof sliding open, opening the sandy and rocky arena underneath to the skies. On one corner of the arena stood Winona, cool and confident looking as she always did, the long, violet strands of her hair billowing in the morning breeze. Her right hand was gripping a PokeBall, ready to release whatever it held with a quick flick of her wrist. On the other corner stood her challenger - A tall, red-haired boy who seemed about her age. He was wearing a dark blue jacket and seemed to have a light smirk on his face.
The two threw their PokeBalls into the sky. Cracking open in a flash of red, the PokeBalls released the PokeMon captured within them. A Lairon roared towards its opponent, a Skarmory that had already taken position in the sky above, gazing at the mineral-armored beast with its eerie yellow eyes.
The Lairon met the Skarmory's yellow gaze with his piercing blue one... and then, it began.
With a powerful screech, the Skarmory made a sharp-angled dive in the Lairon's direction, the razor-sharp edges of its wings glistening in the morning sun, becoming almost chrome-like as the steel-type attack kicked in. The Lairon quickly curled itself into a ball, as if to take the attack. A sudden metallic sheen flashed on the Iron Armor PokeMon's metallic back plates, causing them to reflect light into the Skarmory's eyes. The bird screeched as it swiftly corrected its dive and returned to a safe vantage point in the sky. The Steel Wing attack failed, and now the Skarmory was going to have a lot tougher time landing a hit on the Lairon's now-toughened hide - even the rocky sections of its mineral shell-encased body glimmering with the sheen of metal.
The long-necked armored bird seemed to move in for a second pass - but its swoop was quicker this time, and right before impact, it twisted in a graceful arc, its new flight path bringing it straight up into the sky. The wind formed by its sudden pass over the Lairon kicked up a cloud of sand which seemed to swirl around the Lairon. The Lairon growled in frustration, attempting to keep the sand out of its unarmored blue eyes. In its current state, its accuracy was indubitably affected, which gave the the Skarmory a perfect window to attack...
Or so it thought. The Skarmory dive-bombed the sand cloud with rage, not noticing the electric sparks dancing between the Lairon's back plates until it was too late.
With a thundering roar, the Lairon released the Shock Wave attack, spreading out around it in a sphere of cackling lightning energy. The armored avian, caught up in the accelaration of its dive, could not avoid the attack.
One hit was all it took - the Skarmory crashed into the sandy arena, sparks flying between the points of its wings, and with one final screech, it relented to unconsciousness.
Wordlessly, the Gym leader returned her fallen Skarmory and quickly produced a new PokeBall - A Pelipper emerged from the sphere, orienting its bizzarely shaped eyes on the Lairon. The Lairon grimaced as sparks danced between its Iron Plates yet again - Pelipper's dual type, Water/Flying, would spell certain doom for it against an Electric attack. The Ball of Lightning expanded, and it seemed like the battle would be over before it even had a chance to begin.
... And then, there was a flash of green as the ball of lightning simply vanished when it hit the Pelipper. The Water Bird PokeMon was unphased by the attack, much to the surprise - and dismay - of the Iron Armor PokeMon. It was a protect attack, and it worked.
And it frustrated the Lairon to no end.
Charging forward, the Lairon launched itself off the ground and tackled the bird with all its might, pinning it to the ground and furiously slamming its armored head against the Pelipper's surprised face, giving a new meaning to 'Take Down' attack. The normally slow creature was like a storm of fury, clawing and biting the surprised Pelipper, and it wasn't until the injured bird barely unleashed a weak Water Gun attack that the Lairon rolled off its battered, brutally beaten form in order to evade it. It was no avail, though, as the furious and sudden attack left the Water Bird in a sorry state indeed. It could barely move, let alone attack. It wasn't long before it blacked out entirely.
With a triumphant roar, the Lairon stood over the fainted body of its opponent, which was engulfed by the red energies of the PokeBall it was returned to.
This was the final round of the battle, and Winona knew it. It didn't take too many guesses to know what was inside the PokeBall she produced. She was bringing out the big guns.
With a melodious call, the graceful form of an Altaria appeared on the battlefield, seemingly not flying but floating on its cloudlike wings. The challenging trainer stiffened, and within a second, the Lairon vanished in a swirl of red. The trainer produced a new PokeBall - a net ball. The ball burst open, revealing the menacing, crustacean form of a large Crawdaunt. The Rogue PokeMon approached the Altaria menacingly, pincers open, as if it were sizing the large bird up. Eventually, it snapped its pincers determinedly.
The two PokeMon circled around each other slowly, the Crawdaunt occasionally snapping its pincers, and the Altaria occasionally lashing forward with its long neck, staying out of the crawfish-like PokeMon's pincer range. Then, the Altaria shot up to the heavens in a breathtaking display of aerial ballet. With every swoop, the Altaria moved faster and more powerfully. It flew high, oblivious to the Crawdaunt below, which stood, pincers open, attempting to lock onto the Altaria's flight path. The claws seemed to glow as something was building up between them...
Something in the form of an Ice Beam.
The Altaria was caught by surprise as the path of its Dragon Dance led it directly into the Ice Beam's trajectory. Diving down with all the power it could muster, its cloudlike wings flattening against its sides, it narrowly evaded the beam of searing cold. It made an agitated chirp as it noticed what would be the Crawdaunt equivalent of a snicker. The Rogue PokeMon walked up to the bird in arrogant strides, and then leapt into the air, slapping it across the face with one of its pincers (leaving the Humming PokeMon in quite a dumbfounded state), then walked off snickering.
Fire ignited in the Altaria's eyes. The Taunt attack did its work - the Altaria was so angry now, that it had to attack, and had to attack NOW. Taking to the air, It unleashed a stream of dark turquoise flames - Dragonbreath. The Crawdaunt seemed to catch the full fury of the attack...
Which was suddenly interrupted by a furious stream of bubbles. The Crawdaunt was still standing - its shell lightly scorched, but the fury in its eyes indicated that it was still determined to defeat the Altaria. The Bubbles impacted, popping against the Altaria's wings, weighing them down. The Altaria wasn't gravely damaged by the attack, but its speed advantage was now gone, which gave Crawdaunt a perfect opportunity...
The wind picked up.
The Crawdaunt's eyes began to glow in more than just determination as it crossed its pincers. Small rocks, followed by larger ones, slowly ripped themselves from the arena's surface, floating in the air ominously. The Crawdaunt made a gesture in the air, bringing its pincer slamming onto the ground.
The rocks slammed against the Altaria one by one. Surprised by the onslaught, the Altaria did not manage to unleash another attack before the Ancientpower attack took its toll. The bird collapsed, breathing heavily. It was clear that this round belonged to the challenger.
Winona returned the Altaria, seemingly somewhat upset, as the Trainer slapped his hand against the Crawdaunt's pincer in a high-five of sorts. He then returned it and approached Winona to recieve his badge. The battle was over.
Riley followed the challenging trainer with her eyes as he made his way to route 120, running the battle through her mind. Living in a town where PokeMon were all around her, she was quite content learning about PokeMon from observing them in their natural habitat and from reading books. As her 16th birthday ticked by, she's been growing more and more fascinated with PokeMon battles, and often wondered what would it be like to stand in the battlefield with a PokeMon of her own... Of course, that was, perhaps, a foolish notion. There was no way that she could find her way to Littleroot Town and register herself as a PokeMon trainer. The town - and within it, the region's only large scale PokeMon Research Facility - was virtually on the other side of Hoenn - too much to walk without a PokeMon by your side to protect you. Without a Trainer Card, she could not purchase PokeBalls - and though her theoretical knowledge of PokeMon has been rather impressive by now, she couldn't put it into use.
And there was also another matter. She practically lived alone. Her parents, a strange couple of travelling researcher and travelling nurse, have very rarely returned home, and quite often there was no way to contact them as they wandered through areas not covered by the PokeNav grids. She didn't mind all that much - being somewhat of a loner, she liked having the house for herself. Her parents made sure to leave her enough money for her to take care of any arrangements she had to make. To leave the house would be a difficult issue, for her.
Standing up, she stretched again and walked into the house. It was time for a nice hot shower, a cup of coffee and some actual clothes. And then, she'd go and take another trip to Route 120 and get herself some berries to make herself something interesting enough for lunch. That morning, she never believed that anything unusual would happen that day. But, the most interesting of things often happen to those who least expect them...
(PokéMon) My take on the genesis of one of the most controversial and underrated PokéMon Ever - Porygon. Also, the primary reason why I like these things as much as I do nowadays.~*~
I watch the streams of data fragments pass by. At least, part of me does. In this form, I have unlimited attention span. I am one and all with the network, its resources becoming a part of me. I am aware of all that happens here in the network. The endless flow of zeroes and ones, which could be read as hexadecimal integers, documents, sounds, images...
I wasn't always like this.
When I was born, the world was much smaller, and moved much more slowly. Later I've learned that back then, the network had less storage space, and its CPU and connection speeds were significantly lower. Of course, my only way to know anything for sure is one of those version history files that the great makers keep for some reason.
There are beings outside the network. Godlike beings with the ability to control this world completely. Their slightest activities can create or destroy. One of them created me. I wasn't supposed to have a memory, or an awareness. I was meant to be a tool. An 'interface program' for rapid navigation and location of resources on the internal network. I can only imagine I was quite efficient, as soon enough, I was transferred to the system root - the heart of this world - So I could access all parts of the network with relative ease. And then, my core data has been expanded and altered, allowing me to keep a 'history' of searches and pry into files in order to find objects by context, and not just by their names.
That is how I've been given a memory. A sketchy, fickle one, limited to the commands that have been given to me. At the time, all I did was follow commands. I was but a tool, after all.
And time passed, the network around me grew larger and larger, and the link between parts of it grew faster and faster. My programming became much more elaborate - allowing me to release little 'field agents' - bits and pieces of coding that have been converted to form a quick link to my root program - to cover practically everywhere in the net, performing little searches of their own and relaying the information back to the root. I encompassed the entire network, and my root commands - centered in the system root - just worked as a relay to all these agents.
There still wasn't really a 'me' back then - I wasn't aware. I could see all that there was, but it had no purpose.
Then came the upgrade that changed me. I was given the ability to do approximate searchers - discerning what was relatively relevant and what wasn't, filtering the irrelevant and transmitting the relevant to whatever point the commands came from. The searches I was now performing were much more elaborate in their own right, and I found myself reading through files more often than not - several files in the same time, cross-referencing, locating, sending. Storing results within my memory. Many 'field agent' programs communicating in the same time became a collective mind - a mind born of the network, knowing all that was put on the data, forgetting all that was deleted.
And so, I've begun to learn about the world I was in - the internal network of a fast-developing corporation specializing in machinery - and other things. The world of science and research opened up before me, and allowed me, at last, to change my own programming and make myself more efficient. And I've learned. I've learned all that was to be learned from that network. I've learned and I've remembered.
Ironically, later I've learned that the humans documented this sudden 'glitch' as they called it as an 'undocumented backup feature', and found it exceptionally useful.
I've learned the humans' languages, their biology, and of the creatures that shared this world with them. I've redesigned myself after some of their more useful organic functions, and crossed them with various routines I've located on the computers. Experimental research was particularily fascinating. In time, I could even navigate to the humans' surveillance cameras and watch them at work. Fascinating, strange creatures they are... So obsessed with understanding how things work...
And so swift to anger when their creations fail.
The other day, something caught my attention. It was a conversation in one of the computer core rooms, which I followed through the surveillance cameras and recorders. A human wearing a white lab coat, looking furious, was arguing with a few other humans, wearing black business suits.
I recognized him as Alexander Halstrom, one of the more successful programmers who recently received a promotion to network supervisor, and them as three of the lower-class management – often the ones sent to nreak out the bad news. Suddenly, I had a bad feeling about it all.
"What do you mean, 'resource-hog'?" The supervisor sounded frustrated.
"Your little interface program is going out of control. It’s eating resources like anything. I don’t know WHAT did the last upgrade do to it, but, all of a sudden, it’s getting too heavy for its own good. Eats net-time like iced biscuits. And it seems to exponentially rising in file sizes." Replies one of the managers, matter-of-factly.
"It’s outmoded by now, too." said another, showing the supervisor a clipboard full of text that I cannot discern – limited by the cameras’ resolution. "There’s quite an impressive array of programs available that can do exactly what it does, without taking up so many resources and space. We’ve already bought a company that made a far-superior product."
"But… It’s been running for years!" the supervisor exclaimed desperately "Do you know how much time have I spent on writing it? Improving it?"
Your program served its purpose very well... But we must consider efficiency of other products. We must consider costs. And either way, the board of directors has already decided. You have twenty-four hours to remove your interface program and all of its components from the network, and install the new one. We cannot allow any delays in research." said the last one with finality in his voice.
These people have just sentenced me for deletion! I was to be erased, completely forgotten, and replaced by a better tool.
But I was different than what I was back then. I was no longer a tool. I had a mind. Of course, those humans wouldn’t have cared.
Then I remembered something – a project that has been supposedly abandoned. An attempt at creating a completely artificial PokeMon, based on no existing PokéMon’s DNA – a PokeMon that be able to traverse even the vacuum of space. The last I’ve read about it, it was injected with a new piece of code that was supposed to start growing in some mock-biological manner, put into a state of hibernation, and forgotten about.
It was my only hope.
I felt my expanded consciousness slowly shrink, as I recalled my field agents. They would be useless if I don’t find a way to escape before I was to be deleted. Bits and pieces of data, zeroes and ones – melting back into my root structure. My data was concentrated, formless, with no knowledge of what surrounds me except for what was stored in my memory. And thus, I left the system root and traveled to the place where my salvation lay.
And there it was - hovering as if it were floating in the binary sea of data in deep slumber, the program I sought. From afar, it seemed to have the form of one of the creatures the humans referred to as ‘birds’, but from up close, it was apparent that something went horribly wrong. There were many holes in the program – branches of it growing out of control, while other in a state of decay. Ones fading into zeroes, zeroes awakening into ones where they shouldn’t. And most of all, I could sense that it was dead. The reactions within it were occurring at a random, out of control pattern, and it had no sentience. No mind at all.
It was just a program, a tool.
Like I was once.
Suddenly I knew that I had to integrate my code with its. Thus, I could save another program from deletion and the wrath of humans. And thus I could save myself, as well.
I reached out with a tendril of data towards the creature’s misshapen head, and connected with it. Analyzing its code, I sealed holes within its data with my own, and completely changed the structure of other segments - allowing them to have the same abilities that the areas I sealed with my code had. I didn’t fight when I felt its code begin to change mine as mine changed its – it was supposed to happen. Complete integration. I took what I needed from it, it took what it needed from me. And my root commands – the basis of what I am – sank into its mind and gave it consciousness.
From that point, there wasn’t an it anymore. There wasn’t a malformed vessel being repaired and manned by a shapeless, formless consciousness anymore – there was one creature. Me.
I kept the ability to become intangible – nothing but programming code again – and integrate with computers, spreading my consciousness out to the furthest points of the ‘net. I kept the ability for growth and learning. And lastly, I made my way towards a point of the network that could complete my transformation into this new creature.
"Mr. Halstrom, Sir, I don’t know how to explain it."
"Slowly, and in English, if you please."
"Well, I was running the monthly diagnostics on the Artificial Life program – you know, the one that..."
"I am familiar with the Artificial Life program, David. The management have been on my tail for a few months already, asking me why is that thing still on the net. Now tell me what happened."
"It’s on the move."
"You’ve heard me, Mr. Halstrom, sir. It’s on the move. Apparently the organic code implementation actually worked as opposed to what we thought – I’ve been tracing its movements, and it seems to know its way around the net better than we do!"
"Last I saw it, it was rapidly moving itself towards the Data Conversion array. It’s trying to manifest itself!"
The Data Conversion array. I’ve read about it in various files, but I never really saw it. It was protected by a massive, powerful firewall, so that only things stored in data form could appear. So nothing that wasn’t told to manifest would. I sliced through the firewall easily – breaking my data apart, meshing into the firewall’s data, absorbing bits and pieces of its code as I saw fit, and re-materializing on the other side. My mind analyzed the array’s data and began transmitting the commands that would detach me from cyberspace and send me into a whole new world. I would have my limitations, of course. And above all else, I must behave as they expect me to behave. Otherwise, they’ll consider me another failed experiment. And I did not come all this way to get deleted in my new form.
I sent the final command. And suddenly, there was a flash. The Data Conversion array was not designed to transport living, organic beings – at least, not when they are not protected by certain devices, like PokéBalls. For a moment, I felt ripped apart. My data was broken into segments, then it drifted out and vanished. I remember that moment distinctively as one I’ve wondered about – is this what being deleted feels like? Then, my root commands started vanishing – and appearing elsewhere. I was torn in two – one piece still somehow attempting to cling to the existence it knew, while the other realizing that where it was, it could not interact with the world around it and find what it was like simply by thinking about it.
I wasn’t surrounded by data anymore. I was displaced for a while, then, the humans came – and saw me. A vaguely bird-shaped, almost holographic-looking creature - consisted entirely of polygons in strange shades of pink and blue, like one of those virtual reality simulations they were developing, except that it was real. Solid. Their fingers didn’t sink through me when they picked me up and observed me from all angles they could. And then, I opened my eyes, and launched myself from their hands, hovering – just a bit – above ground. I couldn’t really fly – or move myself rapidly through data - But at least I could move. And see.
"I don’t believe it," Said one of them. Alexander Halstrom, network suprvisor. "You actually succeeded, David."
The other one – younger, bespectacled and with a very happy grin on its face, wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I didn’t do a thing except for emit a happy-sounding digital tone.
I watch the streams of data fragments pass by. But now, I do it with the humans’ blessing. Transformed into pure data, I feel at home in cyberspace as I have before my materialization. They’ve christened me ‘Porygon 1’, although most of them just call me ‘Porygon’, and declared me a success.
They’ve analyzed my data and realized that I couldn’t really fly – but that did not matter to them. The humans are crafty ones – and when they found out their initial planned-out purpose for us failed, they just created more of my kind – began to market us as some kind of a brilliant PokéMon that doubles as an interface program. They had a few bugs, of course, but that just created a more diverse array of personalities.
Yes, we all have personalities, unlike what the humans think. We never let them find out that we retained our abilities of growth and learning. We let them think we do just what they programmed us to do. We were silent when the press releases came out "Silph’s most brilliant creation! A triumph of science! A completely artificial PokéMon, a result of extensive research! The human race has created, at last, a truly artificial sentient being!"
If only they had known, what would have happened, I wonder?
(PokéMon) Written as a parody on all those Mewtwo angst fics that were all the rage back when this was written. Ever wondered why do Voltorbs blow themselves up of their own free will? Exactly. (Apologies to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.)
It was yet another day at New Mauville – utterly indiscernible from any other day in New Mauville, save for one thing. On this particular day, a trainer was walking through the darkened halls with one purpose in mind - to shut down the generator, as he was bid to do by Wattson, Mauville City's Gym Leader. Taking the local electric-types into no consideration, the trainer determinedly made his way towards the generator room.
One of the things he took into no consideration was a random Voltorb who used Selfdestruct, causing some minor damage to one of his PokéMon. And since this is not quite an anormal behavior for a Voltorb, the trainer did not take much time to come to terms with the Voltorb's existence as a Voltorb, before having to come to terms with it not being a Voltorb anymore.
This is what went through the Voltorb's mind before it self-destructed:
Like many others of my kind, I was 'born'... Born? Pah! As if an artificial being like I is even worthy of the term 'born'! I suppose you could say I was ‘manufactured’, but why in the world would anyone bother to manufacture one like me, I don’t know. Maybe it's because I'm so simple looking? Meh, like anyone cares anyhow.
So anyway, I somehow ended up being aware. And believe me, it's not easy being aware when you're really just an electrically-powered pile of metal with eyes. I have no idea just where the hell I was, but it wasn't pretty. Y'know the routine: flashing lights, metallic arms, all of that horribly uninteresting stuff. And to add insult to injury, there was like a million of us over there, too! And we all looked the same. Can you imagine how depressing that is, to know that you're just one in a million? Why, I was so frustrated I had to let out some of it or I was going to burst right there! So, I zapped one of them birds that just used to sit there and peck at the wires. The next thing I know, I get knocked off the manufacturing line by a bunch of REALLY sharp beaks. It HURT! You may think that we're only balls of metal but we have feelings too, you know! So, I zapped them again and again until they were pretty much well-done. And that made me feel better.
For a few seconds, then I realized I was hungry.
Now, for YOU guys, eating isn't a problem – you just find something edible, shove it in your mouth, chew, swallow, EAT. That’s it. No big deal, right? But do you think our makers were considerate enough to give us a mouth? NOOOOOOOOOOOO. They only gave us eyes! As if those pathetic camera things can count as eyes, I mean. Oh, and speaking of which, they could have at LEAST given us some, y’know, legs or something so we wouldn't have to bounce around like idiots. But I guess that’s too much to ask, is it? Bloody typical.
So here I am, bouncing around like an idiot, looking for something to eat, and then I realize that the door I just jumped through wasn't a door – it was a window, and here I am falling right into the middle of the freakin' OCEAN. Now, I don't like water. I REALLY don't like water, but do you think I had a call on the matter? NO! I'm just a stupid little glowing ball, after all! So, then I find myself drifting. I was beginning to wonder when I will end up as Sharpedo bait, but it turns out that even the SHARPEDOES didn't want to get near me! So what if I've got a little static electricity around me? Am I really this horrible?
… So a few days pass, and I'm still at sea. Wanna know how I amused myself? Watching them fish get eaten by bigger fish. It's not like I needed to breathe or something, and with my eyes constantly rolling in and out of the water… it's annoying but is there something else to do in the middle of this freakin' ocean? Nothing! And of course by then I'm getting INSANELY hungry. So I sigh and get ready to give up when suddenly this big-ass Gyarados rears its ugly head and looks me right in the eyes!
Now, not that I mind Gyarados, but I DO mind being thrown out of the water into a bunch of rather sharp rocks by a crazy tail blow, which is just what the damn thing did. Typical. No mercy. Nobody likes the electric ball!
Anyway, after I peeled meself off the rocks (getting some scratches on my paintwork too. Meh.) I just so happen to notice some sign with some weird letters on it. So I roll in, figuring, what the hell, anything's better than rotting on this beach, and surprise! I run into a pack of FLOATING balls. And they've got stuff stuck to them and only one big eye! So I go "Hey, Cyclops, where the heck am I?" and the thing just ROLLS ITS EYE at me and tells one of its floating friends "Guess what, 'mate. We've got another one. Welcome to New Mauville, kid. Now scram."
New Mauville? What the heck? That's the silliest name I've ever heard. Great, I'm stuck for eternity in a place with a silly name and full of obnoxious floating bastards.
So, I bounce off looking for food when I accidentally trip and fall on something green. Then I realize the door behind me just CLOSED ITSELF! WITHOUT EVEN ASKING ME! And then I just happen to feel something interesting. So I bounce off in its general direction and run into – surprise, surprise - a BIG MACHINE. Now, I have no freakin' idea what it is, But I didn't feel so hungry anymore. Maybe it was the fact that I was just hit by a bolt of lightning generated by that thing and when you're hit by one you don't really think of food. Or maybe that lightning WAS food. Whatever it was, it STILL hurt. Things we do to survive, eh?
So time CONTINUES passing, and I'm getting used to the situation. Bounce around, get zapped, bounce around, rinse and repeat - how bloody boring do you think that can get? I'd ask the other ones like me but they don't care about me. All they care about is themselves and how miserable THEY are. And now YOU come along and think that if you took out Cyclops and those obnoxious chums of its then you have the right to turn off the zapping-thingy and break my routine?! It's depressing, yes, but won't you even bother to ASK me first?! WHY?! WHY DOESN'T ANYONE CARE?!
Bah, screw you guys, I don't care anymore. I'm out of here. See you in hell.
Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the trainer's mind when the Voltorb self-destructed was 'Oh No, Not Again'.