The Retelling of Pokémon Colosseum
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November 5th, 2008 (11:44 PM). Edited December 10th, 2008 by bobandbill.
~Have you ever seen the rain?~
Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: Central Coast - Australia
Nascour let out an irritated sigh, as he observed a grunt walk out of his office and close the door. A temporary television had been just set up, so he was finally able to watch shows again, but he wasn’t really in the mood for it. All they showed now, apparently, were constant reports on how they had found Cipher out in Pyrite, exposing their hideout, their plans and their identity. It was a relief that the people working there had not been well informed about things other than their role in Pyrite, but it had been a major loss nonetheless.
Plus, the television was just not the same. The previous one had been a real thing to behold, and had countless functions. Many hadn’t much to do with televisions or were utterly pointless – Nascour himself did not comprehend how nor why a television that could display shows in brilliant detail would also be able to sharpen pencils, and have a bagel-making unit at the side of all things – but it was the principle of the matter. Nascour would have dearly loved to have boasted about his bagel-making television. Boasting about such things gave him a rare satisfaction, like the kind he got upon seeing a particularly cunning plan work to perfection. But instead; he had this sad excuse of a television, which constantly sounded as if there were angry wasps inside of it, whether it was off or on. And it was ridiculously small as well!
Yes, things had gone pear-shaped recently for him, and for Cipher. Things were in disarray, and instead of having the luxury of being able to work at a slow yet safe pace, they now had to scurry just to conceal themselves.
And it was all because of that blasted former Team Snagem boy.
He had started the loss Team Snagem had suffered, and it turned out that he had helped continue that process as well in Pyrite, inflicting unconceivable damage to Cipher. Plus that girl too… if Miror B’s peons had done their job with her in the first place, then the events of Pyrite wouldn’t have occurred, and Nascour would have probably not have broken his bagel-making television either.
Yes, the boy would pay for what he caused when the opportunity arises; I’ll see to that
, Nascour thought, frowning as he adjusted the long streaks of white hair he had, then smothered the purple clothes he liked to sport. Nascour knew it was a particular bad choice of clothing, but he didn’t really care – there were bigger and more important things to think about. Plus having the grunts scurry at the mere sight of him was always handy.
Suddenly, the voice of the reception lady sounded outside his office, with her sounding a bit overcome by something. “Nascour, sir – there’s, umm, someone who wants to see you.”
“And who is it?” Nascour asked, irritably. The lady was new on the job – the old receptionist had been sacked after overusing the intercom system to whinge loudly about his failed marriage and how not as many people read his fanfics – fanfics of all things – as he would have liked – so she wasn’t familiar with who was who yet.
“You don’t know who I am, lady?” another voice added suddenly. Nascour grimaced sourly – he knew who that was.
And the salsa music faintly playing outside his office in the background was a telltale sign as well.
“I know him – I’m coming,” Nascour called, before leaving the office. Closing the door behind him, he turned and saw Miror B set down an oversized radio by the receptionist’s desk.
“Why, I’m the fabulous Miror B!” he exclaimed, with a dazzling smile.
“…Who?” the seated woman managed, looking intimidated by Miror B’s afro, which towered over her.
“I’m only the most famous dancer in the land!” he boasted.
“Miror B, that’s enough terrorizing my receptionist,” Nascour ordered. Miror B however raised a hand, waving him off.
“Nonsense – and I’m surprised she’s not put off by your constant unappealing choice of clothing as well!” he retorted, sniffing in disdain at Nascour’s grim and odd attire while taking out the tape from the radio, and inserting another. A song started playing, as Miror B then jumped on the desk and started dancing, then singing to the song.
Don't blame it on sunshine
Don't blame it on moonlight
Don't blame it on good times
Blame it on the boogie!
“That’s enough, Miror B,” Nascour started, but Miror B ignored him, continuing to dance, and sing louder as well, losing himself in the music.
Don't blame it on sunshine
Don't blame it on moonlight
“For goodness’s sakes, stop singing so loud!” someone shouted from down the hall, as the receptionist wisely decided to leave the room.
Don't blame it on good times
Then, Miror B pulled off a back flip from the desk and landed on the floor perfectly, while suddenly singing extremely loudly and with enormous enthusiasm:
Blame it on the BOOGIE!
“SHUT UP, MIROR B!” Nascour cried. Miror B suddenly looked around, seeming breaking out from his trance.
Oh, I do hate it when he starts shouting...
Miror B thought.
It’s terribly off key as well!
“Hey, where did she go?” he added to his thoughts, noticing her absence.
“This is not the time!” Nascour shouted, grabbing Miror B by the arm and dragging him into his office, while Miror B yelped musically in surprise, and grabbed his radio just before he was hauled out of reach of it.
“Now, explain yourself! How the hell did you screw it up! I bet you’ve even lost those important files that Ein gave you, didn’t you!?” Nascour shrieked, slamming the door shut and glaring venomously at Miror B. He gulped, as the song stopped playing from the radio, and a new one started.
I need somebody!
Not just anybody!
You know I need someone! Help!
When I was younger so much younger than today...
“And turn that thing off!” Nascour said angrily over the song.
“But... I can’t. You know that. And it’s the Beatles!” Miror B said simply.
“Oh fine, put it on headphones, or something, so I can’t hear it,” Nascour conceded. Miror B grabbed some out of his pocket, and plugged it in, while trying to find his ears through his afro as he mumbled about people unable to appreciate good music.
“Now, explain yourself!” Nascour said, When Miror B was satisfied he could hear the music and Nascour as well.
“Ok, well, quite simply, they found us out, that boy battled me, I escaped, but everyone else got arrested...”
“I KNOW THAT ALREADY!” Nascour screamed, before forcing himself to continue in a slightly calmer voice. “How did this happen, though?”
“Oh, they, umm, used some mind-wiping thing.”
“Oh, Wes – the teenager – he had an Espeon which was controlling my minions. They couldn’t do a thing. By the way, I want to complain about them! They simply refused to even try one of my dance lessons! Then those awful people broke my special radio!” Miror B complained.
“But... how did you escape then?” Nascour asked, curiously.
“Oh, I, err, somehow got my hands on a mind-protecting... thingy. They had some objects which protected themselves from that Espeon, and he had something which enhanced his powers...”
“Really?” Nascour suddenly said, his voice not as angry as before. “Do you still have it? If so, we could possibly reverse-engineer it, then from that even possibly employ mind-controlling ourselves... it’ll take too long to make by itself, with all our technical resources are now solely focused on Shadow Pokemon and maintaining them in that state, but if we had it...” Nascour began rambling on to himself excitedly, while Miror B forced himself to ignore the music for once and ponder this.
He still had it, all right – he could feel the cold metal of the altered Itemfinder against his skin through his pocket, the object suddenly feeling very heavy. If he handed it in, then Nascour might stop shouting at him...
...but no. I won’t,
Miror B thought after a moment.
I’ve had enough of this. I never really wanted to be a villain in the first place, and now, with me no longer having my dance studio... there’s no gain! And I don’t want Cipher to brainwash people either! If I have an opportunity to quit, I shall. But for now... an excuse!
“Well... I don’t. I, err, lost it while making my escape,” Miror B said. Nascour frowned for a moment, then sighed, accepting the lame excuse.
“Oh well. If only... but it’s odd that the Orre Police force would have gone with using it themselves... no wonder they overcame the hideout.”
Miror B sighed – he was forgiven, for now. Smiling, he focused back on the music.
Oh yeah – ‘Getting Better’!
he thought happily to himself, enjoying another Beatles song.
“Well, at least the new police forces might bring something helpful – they at least will not be happy with any mind wiping techniques, and they might just stop those brats from continuing to do so. How dare they use such dirty tactics...”
“Well, you are kinda making Pokemon... well, evil and all...” Miror B pointed out.
“Oh, that’s besides the point! We’re meant to be the ones resorting to heavy-handed techniques, not them!” Nascour said angrily. Suddenly, a loud knock was heard on the door.
“Hello! Is there anyone there? Only the reception person seemed to have nicked off, man...” a booming voice asked.
“Ah! Dakim! The door’s unlocked!” Nascour said. The man behind the door responded by opening it – only, the sound of ripping metal pieces clinking and squeaking in protest accompanied the door being cleanly removed from the doorway. A towering barefooted man stepped in, looking bemusedly at the door. He was dressed in a simple white gi not unlike one a martial artist would wear, which failed to conceal the outline of muscles that he had, with a simple black belt hanging from his hips. A necklace made of Pokeballs also hung from his neck. He was by far the tallest and largest in the room by far – even bigger than Miror B despite his giant afro, and Nascour was not lacking in height by any means as well.
“Dude, I think you need a new door...” Dakim said simply, the red-haired man looking confused as to how simply opening the door resulted in it breaking so.
“I knew I should have gone with the automatic doors...” Nascour mumbled in distaste, not impressed with his lumbering minion.
“Hey, Miror B!” Dakim suddenly exclaimed, dropping the door as it made a wooden cluck as it hit the floor. He went and shook Miror B’s hand enthusiastically. “Long time no see!”
“Uh, yes, the same for you,” Miror B replied, rubbing his arm when Dakim released it.
“Yeah, man! I really appreciated that music you gave me as well!” Dakim boomed. “Really helps me get in a mood for a workout!”
“Dakim, could you, um, use your inside voice?” Nascour asked.
“Oh, sure thing, man!” he said, clearly not knowing what an ‘inside voice’ meant. Glancing around, he then spotted the small humming television. “Hey, man – where’s that awesome television you had? Don’t tell me that’s it! I wanted to try some of those bagels!”
“Yeah, you did mention it... did it come with that surround...sound...” Miror B agreed, before stopping himself, observing Nascour’s facial expression, which was currently looking more frightening than a rampaging Tyranitar.
“Oh, calm down, man!” Dakim said, ignoring Nascour’s response. “You’ve gotta relax! C’mon, meditate with me! Breathe in-” Dakim sudden inhaled very loudly, and held it for a long moment, before exhaling even louder than before for an extended period of time. “...And breathe out. Now you try it!” Dakim then turned to Nascour, who glared at him.
“Fine, whatever, dude,” Dakim said, disappointedly. “I’m just here to say that I’m ready to make my way to Mt Battle.”
“Good,” Nascour finally said. “But a slight change of plan. I want you to send a small group to Agate Village as well.”
“Why?” Dakim asked. “Man?” he added.
“Well, for a similar reason as to why you are to go get that thing from Mt Battle, of course! There’s a Relic stone, or something there, which apparently would have a negative effect on Shadow Pokemon.”
“Negative? You mean, it makes them more angry or something?” Dakim asked.
“Of course not! Negative for us! It might turn them normal again! That’s why I want you to send a small group to break it.”
“But, isn’t that a stone in tribute of... Celebi or something?” Miror B asked, not appealed by the idea to destroy a monument, especially not of a legendary Pokemon. Surely it wouldn’t be very happy about it?
“Indeed! That’s why we have to destroy it!” Nascour said happily, misinterpreting Miror B’s comment. “I don’t want any more risks – it’s time for swift action! We shall eliminate all threats that stand in the way of keeping our Pokemon Shadow!”
“Ok then, man! I’ll send my top assistant and some grunts along to do the job!” the man boomed simply, not really as concerned about it as Miror B was. He moved to depart the room, but then stopped.
“Oh, by the way, dude – how is Ein getting on?” he asked.
Nascour allowed a smile to creep upon his face for a moment, a rare satisfaction he had not been able to enjoy in recent days.
“He’s doing his job, that’s what he’s doing,” he said.
A young man sat in his seat by a desk, which was covered by more papers than the number of tails a group of one thousand Ninetales would have, each one containing ridiculously long hypotheses and mathematical proofs. He was finalising one of them right now, hastily scribbling down the final lines. It had taken him a long while to get the problem out, and it didn’t help that the people working on the problem before him had made several mistakes. One person’s working even seemed to somehow prove successfully, yet impossibly, that three wasn’t a number. He had to go over it all again, but he was now right at the end. It would, hopefully, prove to be a handy result that they could use to improve the process.
Ein double checked the last few lines of the problem before adding in the final line. He made sure that he had not committed any silly mistakes – it had cost him dearly in one test when he had gone to school. One little mistake had been the difference between full marks – and as a result he had finished second. This was in some insignificant test, yes, but it was the only one he had not come out on top. Instead, he came second to some girl who, albeit having an admittedly good grasp of maths, had an annoying obsession with clothes and vintage cars. How she raved on and on about them that day, as he sat staring in disbelief at his test paper. He had made a fatal mistake – he had forgotten to add the one to his final equation.
He had hated that day, but ever since he had learned from his mistake. Satisfied with the answer his previous lines of working led to, he wrote it down, dropped his pen down, and then adjusted his glasses.
“Ok, you,” he said, pointing at one of his assistants that stood in the gray, expansive lab. “Take this, and send it directly to him.”
“Yes, sir,” the man answered quietly, taking the bundle of papers from the grandly white-clothed scientist and walked out.
“The rest of you can leave too,” Ein added as an afterthought. “Go on,” he urged as the others hesitated. “I wish to work on the next subject.” At this, the other assistants silently departed, leaving him alone to the set of rooms he worked in. He took a sip of coffee from a mug of his, clutching it with a pale-skinned hand, and swallowed a pill with the liquid, sitting in quiet satisfaction. Besides his desk, the rest of the lab was sickly clean, without a single thing out of place, the floor a dull, undisturbed grey. He was surrounded by state of the art equipment – one of the perks of working here – and all in all he was happy with the place, if not necessarily his bumbling assistants.
This is all going to plan here, at least,
he thought, while stifling a yawn. He silently reprehended himself with a mental telling-off– now was not the time to be sleepy. Cipher was enduring a rough patch, and now all had to be done as quickly as possible. And if he had to remain awake for a further week to do so, then so be it.
After all, he had more than enough anti-sleeping pills - that he had developed himself – to keep him going for now. The side effects weren’t pleasant – one morning he had awoken with green hair, another more facial hair that he had thought possible, and yesterday he had been working so fast after taking an extra-strength dose that his computer had nearly exploded, unable to keep up with his typing – but he would tolerate this to see his experimentation bring success.
Ein got up to his feet, and began walking towards the room where he knew the next subject would have already been waiting for the beginning of the process.
And I had specifically instructed those two peons of Miror B to do the job right and deliver the girl safely,
Ein thought, knowing quite well why he had to work quickly now.
But no – they completely and utterly screwed it up, and now she identified my Shadow Pokemon, and they got snagged by some former Team Snagem member. How this occurred is a travesty, but I’ll just have to work harder now. They better not screw up the elimination of the other threats.
he added to himself,
that Miror B fellow dances too much and hasn’t the slightest clue on calculus. No wonder his assistants failed their duty so miserably. His music is extremely distracting as well... Still, he did indirectly inspire that new way to perform the process...
Ein walked through a passageway, turning his thoughts to what he would monitor.
I hope they’ve already administered the formula as well; apparently the new version will make the Pokemon more open to the process, and hopefully quicken the experiment. Time is currently of the essence. Pity we can’t work on more than one at the same time yet – the results just don’t work as well. They insist on trying to support each other during the process...
Ein approached a room – a large spacious one that he had had specially constructed for the purposes of the project. Inside was his next subject – he could hear it, making small, trill cries. Ein smiled coldly, as he placed some earmuffs on his head, and took another pill, one which would temporary reduce his capacity to hear things. He didn’t particularly enjoy the noise the process he was using now would cause – leastways this one far more than others - and he wished to work further while overseeing it without having to get distracted by it. The pill did a lot, but the earmuffs provided an extra level of silence.
Hopefully it won’t take too long,
Where... where am I? Help!
The Skarmory let out a small screech, but knowingly in vain – his cries for help weren’t bringing anyone or anything to rescue him from this place. He had sat in a dark cage, surrounded by other Pokemon for a long time earlier on, before being brought to this place, in the very centre of the expansive room, dim lights unable to illuminate the dark corners.
Somehow, he had a sneaking suspicion that he was no longer near his nest.
He couldn’t escape either – he was held by some metal not unlike the kind that his body was plated by. Moving any part of his body even a mere bit took a fair amount of effort; yet he still tried to move and fidget as much as he possibly could, as three men who were currently around him tried desperately to jab him with a large sharp object with strange liquid floating inside of it.
“Stop resisting, you pest of a Pokemon,” one of them grumbled.
“It can’t be that hard to give some Skarmory an injection...” one replied.
“Bah, it’s harder than it looks – it has that darn steel hide as well which there’s no point trying to jab through, and I can’t get it through the gaps without it trying to claw my face off!”
“Let me try, then,” the second said, grabbing it off the first and moving in. Shortly after, the Skarmory gave a trill of triumph as he pecked hard at the man’s fingers as they foolishly entered his range, resulting in loud aggravated shouting by the man. Tripping backwards, he fell into the third man, who himself stumbled into what appeared to Skarmory to be a table with strange and unusually sharp objects scattered upon it. The man’s cries of anguish seemed to confirm this fact.
(Beaten by a restrained Skarmory? Give up, you smelly... stinky humans!)
“I told you so...” the first man said simply as the other jumped around clutching his hand.
Then, another man walked in. This one, Skarmory thought, looked bad – there was something cold in the way he cast his calculating gaze he cast upon him as he removed his glasses. Frightened, Skarmory stopped celebrating his minor victory, distracted by the newcomer; then gave a sudden cry as he felt a light prick between his steel-plated wings.
“Got him,” the first man said, relieved he had managed to inject Skarmory.
“Good,” Ein said. “Now you three can leave, I’ll do the rest. Gonzap wants the most effective method we have available, and I’m intending to try it.” The three obeyed, one of them holding his hand while muttering under his breath, the other trying to relieve himself of pain in multiple parts of his body, while the third cast a quick, pitying look at Skarmory before trailing behind the other two.
Skarmory was not at all comforted at this. And they had punctured him with the sharp thing – what was going to happen? All around him were strange and terrifying objects. The man was grinning with a malicious smile, staring at him behind his glasses.
(Ok, could you, um, let me go now? I’ll promise to be good!)
“Now... now is when the fun begins for you,” the man said, ignoring the bird as a small, twisted smile slowly grew on his face.
the Skarmory said, gulping at the man’s reaction. What was going to happen to him? Would he indeed become like those other Pokemon he saw? The man was slowly walking towards one of the tables near the back of the room. Skarmory could not look away – he couldn’t tilt his head much at all. He was forced to look straight ahead. Strange objects were piled on it – he didn’t like the look of them. He was already there, adjusting an odd rectangular thing. Clicking and whirring sounds began. This was it. The Skarmory braced himself–
- and then squawked in surprise, as a blaze of trumpets deafened him.
he cried. The trumpeting continued, before suddenly the sounds currently being pumped out of the rectangular box changed to softer, but still incredible loud human singing.
Love, love, love,
Love, love, love,
Love, love, love...
Skarmory continued to caw in confusion – why, of all things, was music being played at such a loud volume? Meanwhile, the man had taken a small object and pressed a button, and one of the walls suddenly burst into colour. Images attacked him – images of sunshine and lollypops and bright, colourful flowers.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game,
The music continued without a hitch. Skarmory was still dazed by the recent events – the music was too loud, but it was strange. Strange and beautiful. And the colours in front of him...
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be in time,
All you need is love,
All you need is love,
All you need is love, love,
Love is all you need.
(I’m confused, but I’m not complaining!)
the Skarmory finally said, beginning to caw with the music. Suddenly he was starting to feel a little bit dizzy, but he paid it no heed, engrossed in the pretty pictures. Meanwhile, the man quietly smirked, then approached another table. With a look at something strapped on his wrist, he then started another machine.
Ein was now seated by the side of the room, mulling to himself over a particularly tough problem. The earmuffs he was wearing, combined with the pill he took earlier, drowned out the vast majority of the sound, but faint cries from Skarmory could now be heard, who was now fidgeting violently, trying to get out of his prison.
(Help! I’ve had enough! I don’t likes them flowers!)
he screamed shrilly. Ein ignored him.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known-
All you need is love-
(HELP! I CAN SEE THE MUSIC NOW!)
Ein looked up again, and then smiled evilly. The potion administered had indeed sped it up – it shouldn’t be long now. And this process has its advantages – less physical injuries gained by the Pokemon during this process over others, leaving them requiring less recovery time.
All you need is love-
Nothing you can see that isn't shown-
Love, love, love-
It was a simple ploy, really. Ein had deduced that no matter what, anyone or anything would get annoyed by a constant repetition of extremely loud sound. Ein had learnt that with Miror B – trying to work with him around if that music of his had been a nightmare - and now used this as a process. The song choice was merely a touch of irony. Ein liked irony.
And the Skarmory was right at breaking point. And no wonder. Eight radios, positioned all around the room played the same song; all starting at different intervals, all at an incredible volume. The same song played over and over again. Frequent burst of trumpeting had a particularly good effect as well, it seemed. And the room was measured precisely that the song waves would rebound off the walls and collide into the subject in the centre of the room again, like hyperactive Spoink bouncing inside a closed box.
Love is all you need-
And the radios have been playing for several hours now.
All you need is love-
Torture was a simple way to break a Pokemon, but this was something different. Something more. Not only was it a physical torture to the hearing of the Pokemon, it simply demolished their mental well-being. Clearly evident by the Skarmory’s dazed reactions – he probably didn’t know what was happening anymore now.
“Skar Skar Skr!”
(I am a happy little birdy birdy birdy....)
the Skarmory sung to the song, while banging his head as much as he could, despite being limited in his actions.
No one you can save that can't be saved-
Love, love, love-
The added factor of the video playing what was considered good, pure things helped too, combined with the potion. The potion was very handy, although long-lasting. It was made up of a combined mixture of brews, which coincidently happened to have the same effect as an extremely concentrated amount of alcohol.
A mere shot left the Pokemon helpless to resist any process used and subdued their minds; and it occasionally had amusing results to boot, leastways for his colleagues. Ein had no time to laugh, and hadn’t shared the enthusiasm they had when a subject, after undergoing a particularly vile process, had tried afterwards to fight back, only to stumble and flail its arms in a drunken and confused fashion, striking thin air more than anything else. In the end it had ended up punching itself out.
This concoction too was mixed with another one especially for this process, which rendered the Skarmory unable to blink – a clever invention that Ein had created after studying Pokemon anatomy. So it had to watch the video.
All you need is love-
The subconscious revulsion and dislike projected by the subject’s mind due to the experience generated by the music would transfer to the images it saw, and this would work for the Skarmory too. Soon, he would hold a severe dislike for the things he viewed – all good, ‘happy’ and nice things.
(Shut up, mister floooowweerrrrs! I will defeat you!)
Skarmory cried, trying to peck out at the video screen ahead of him. There was something about the way the flowers just sat there that made them seem extremely sinister to him.
All you need is love-
He would forget a lot as well, consumed by hate. Pokemon were such emotional things; it was of little surprise to Ein what results this method had on the first subject it was applied too. It was working now as well – even better than before, Ein noted, as Skarmory violently tried to break free but failed. Major changes in the subject’s emotional levels was paramount to achieving success in the process, along with a few other minor procedures here and there that had to be carried out on the odd subject.
“Skar! Skarmory SKAR!”
(You all stupid now! All of you! Especially that thingy! EVERYBODY SHUT UP!)
the Skarmory moaned, despairing against the music. He wasn’t able to concentrate clearly anymore, the music simply swamping his dazed and subdued mind. Instead it moaned, half pitifully, half angrily at the images floating before him.
All together now-
Yes, on the whole it was a good process. And it left the subject less withdrawn after the process than others, such as forcing them to watch looping award acceptance speeches, or surround them by thousands of Mr-Mime-in-a-boxes, each with a different yet equally disturbing giggle.
All you need is love-
Soon it would only be able to attack by concentrating its power and hate into one attack – Shadow Rush. And it would not hesitate to attack others. It would become a Shadow Pokemon, just like all the others had before it. Of that there was no doubt. The problem was, they could recover from this – in time all wounds would heal at least to a point, the subject’s emotional wellbeing returning to a healthier state. But Ein hoped that this would not be the case after further developments.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game-
All you need is love-
Ein then got up to leave. He would send for an assistant to turn off everything soon enough, once it was done. After all, he was a busy man – he had things to do, and other subjects to prepare for. He left the room, leaving behind the ceaseless noise, and the Skarmory’s fading pleas.
All you need is love-
All you need is love-
Love, love, love-
All you need is love, love-
Love is all you need.
Hope you enjoyed the long chapter of chapterness. Now, for the spoiler of characters/events in this chapter and the games (or for a large part, NOT in the game):
Phillar Caracter – TBH, he’s not based on anyone (although I’m sure there are other random NPCs in Pyrite I haven’t touched on... maybe). Just someone who was suggested by a friend at school, (who is known as ‘Chris the Com’), and I expanded on. You can say that he is quite the filler character.
Wes’s past – well, that is never revealed in the game whether he is a native of Orre, or came from another region, and so forth. Maybe it has something to do with that in the game, like so many other unfortunate protagonists, he doesn’t have the ability to talk. Just my possible idea on him – and like so many Pokemon protagonists, he doesn’t have any parents either. (Most tend to have at least a mum...). Which means no Pocket money. Oh no! D:
Andrew – another original character that doesn’t appear in the game. Just someone I made up, using the basis of a character from a script I did before. Like him, there is no extra police force either (ironically, Pyrite seems to have the bulk of the force – Sherles and his trusty assistant in Johnson). Clearly a correlation between crime-rates in towns and that fact, no?
Duking and Plusle – ah, yes. After you battled all those people, and navigated your way through the annoying maze, Duking will thanks you for rescuing Plusle, before the darn thing then apparently (leastways to Duking) decides that it wants to join you. AND Duking doesn’t mind in the slightest. Not that’ll many use it, seeing it’s rather under-levelled compared to the rest, but never the less it joins you on the adventure. Here just had Duking misunderstand Plusle. For misunderstandings are fun.
Reporters – well, there is a new news update on your dealings in Pyrite – surely that’s where they’d go, right?
Fateen – Fateen is the next go-to point in the game – she instructs you that you must go north, as that will help you purify the Shadow Pokemon. Never mind she seems to know everything all of a sudden. Rui will then exclaim that she had meant to go to Agate all along. Why she hadn’t? She forgot. Convenient amnesia much?
...oh, wait, it is, but not without it being a side-effect from Espeon’s mind-persuading to somewhat explain it. =) (And on that fact – the ‘banning’ of the mind-wiper is to let the fic not become too repetitive and cheap and questionable and whatnot. After all, if stealing Pokemon is against the law, then messing with people’s minds can’t be any good either).
Man in Fateen’s house – a random NPC who seems to live there, and keeps moaning about various things he was told by her. Such as his wife breaking up with him (yes, he tells you this, and it happens too), and getting hit on the head... yet he still wants to know more.
Nascour-Miror B-Dakim scene – not in the game either. But Miror B surely does SOMETHING in-between escaping from Pyrite and to when you next see him... and they evidently have planned their next move in-between certain events in the game.
Dakim – he is another admin. of the game, and an intimidating one as well. He is extremely huge, and seems to do martial arts as well, judging by his clothing. He appears later on.
Ein – another character of importance of Ciphers – the writer of the Ein Files (CDs containing info on Shadow Pokemon around the region), and the one who plays the major hand ion Shadow Pokemon. Portrayed as a dark, evil and cunning character in the game, so kept him consistent with this. And now he’s working overtime, thanks to Wes’s help. (There are also rather notable problems with his 3D image when you do first encounter him in the game, which isn’t until much later, but that’s another thing altogether).
Shadow Pokemon – the game gets rather sketchy on how Shadow Pokemon become Shadow Pokemon. All they really say is that their hearts are closed. Probably so the little kids who played the game didn’t asked their parents too many questions. :/ My version – there are a number of ways, all however requiring a torture of some kind on the Pokemon, music being played over and over being one of them *shakes fist at local radio stations*. Idea partly inspired as well by having watched a nice dark film called ‘Clockwork Orange’, good old Beatles music, and an engineering lesson.
(BTW – songs mentioned/used in the chapter – ‘Blame it on the Boogie’ by ‘The Jackson 5’ (?), and ‘Help’, ‘Getting Better’ and ‘All you need is love’ by the Beatles. And I had referenced 'Lisa' from DarkPersian479's fic as well ('cause her fic also deals with Shadow Pokemon and is just that awesome
), if anyone has read it they'd have caught it... hopefully
Thus, it is concluded. Hope it was enjoyed, and hope to be quicker and having less plot/character-set up with the next chapter. Starring a new setting in Agate Village! Lots of fun characters to use there...
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