Thread: Metal Coat;
View Single Post
Old May 8th, 2009 (12:51 PM).
Giratina ♀'s Avatar
Giratina ♀ Giratina ♀ is offline
what's your sign?
Join Date: Apr 2008
Gender: Female
Nature: Quirky
Posts: 1,439
Preparations Must Be Made
(chapter fifteen - the fifteenth chapter of the story. does anyone even read this note in the first place?)
A creature plodded into the cave that held what, in its firm belief, was the most respectable and glorious being that Arceus had ever made, ever. Aforementioned being held in such great regard was in the middle of the cave, sitting down, head bowed and eyes closed. The four-legged creature walked forward.

“My lady,” it said in a gravelly voice.

Mesprit opened her eyes slowly. What stood before her was a four-pawed mammal, with a large, imposing, and quite dangerous black scythe jutting out of the side of his head and curving backward, ever so slightly. A similar appendage served as its tail. Sharp black claws lay, unsheathing, on the rocky cave floor, partially covered by thick white fur.

“Absol,” Mesprit said, smiling evilly. “How are our friends faring with Abra?”

“Oh, it was absolutely disastrous, my Lady. Absolutely disastrous. One for the record books, I’d say. I’ve never seen something so hilariously catastrophic – and oh yes, it was also quite funny. You should have seen wh-”

“Spare me the detail, please. Now, what about Azelf?” Mesprit cut in, silently scolding herself on using such a talkative spy. Absols weren’t supposed to be gabbing loudmouths like this one…

Absol looked away. A strong blast of uneasiness radiated from him.

“I see.” Mesprit didn’t need to ask to understand what had happened with her ‘brother’. “Dismissed.”

“My lady,” The Absol crouched into a deep bow before padding off into the darkness once more.

“Azelf,” Mesprit growled. “If only I could manipulate fellow Legends… then he would drown in his own grief. Oh, yes. That would be fun to watch…” Mesprit’s smile turned from evil to maniacal.

She twitched from her meditating position, and floated up into the air. Slowly, her small figure slid into a side cavern. She followed it, dislodged the guard Pokemon she had positioned there, and entered a smaller cave room.

It was bathed in red glow by two crimson, chipped stones standing exactly five feet away from each other. She glided quite calmly over to where an X was marked on a large boulder (moved in by a Machoke), and waited, not so patiently. She felt no regret, none at all.

After all, she was doing the right thing.

Caro, Kris, and Cyrus were trudging through wet mud, again. For real this time. It was no Medicham playing with them, or a prophetic dream of utmost importance. They were, quite simply, walking through thick and annoyingly slippery wet dirt. (Hey, what did you expect? Stories like these aren’t explosion-to-explosion thrillfests cover to cover.)

“We should be nearing a hotel by now,” Cyrus started, “And I’ll leave you to guess what’s beyond that point.” If he or Kris had said any more, Caro hadn’t caught it. His mind was preoccupied with other things.

Caro shivered. He had an odd feeling in his body, like something was about to happen. Life will go on as it always has, things will happen anyway.

But this was different. It was like something very, very big was staring at him from a cage, glowering hungrily, the key slowly being inserted into the lock that kept it secure.

Something was going to happen. It wasn’t going to be fun. That much was certain.

“Hey… Kris?” he asked, suddenly weak.

“Huh?” The girl had evidently been having thoughts of her own.

“Do you feel… weird?”

“Weird?” Kris raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “Weird how?”

“I mean… I can’t describe it, but it’s like this feeling in the pit of your stomach that this… shouldn’t be happening, you know?” Seeing her face and getting the general impression that she did not, in fact, know, Caro elaborated. “I don’t mean here as in this patch of mud here. I mean… this world. I mean, we’re Pokemon, aren’t we? We’re not supposed to know a place like this exists.”

When she kept looking at him, he said another sentence simply because it seemed like the thing to do: “Like… like we’re not supposed to be here.”

“You have every right to be here,” Cyrus said from behind them, making the duo jump. Even though they had long since learned that he had an annoying habit of suddenly making his presence known, the man was so shrouded in stoic silence that it was very easy to forget he was there at all. “If you weren’t allowed to be here, then you wouldn’t be here.”

That silenced them all.

As the Honchkrow beat its wings, the rider looked out over the blue sky, holding her three-pointed Murkrow hat in place with one hand.

There was no doubt about it – he was back. And he has a couple of pipsqueaks tailing along behind. She didn’t understand any of it, and when she didn’t understand anything it was not a pleasant day for any random passerby who happened to as much as glance at her while going about their business.

Having suddenly been absorbed in these thoughts, she gradually lost the grip on her hat. As the wind finally caught up to it and blew the article of clothing off of its standard position, she only barely managed to snatch it back again. Shaking her head, Yami decided that it was better to just hold on to it. Now that there was no Murkrow hat to keep it in place, the large amount of black hair on her head was suddenly trailing along in the breeze commonly generated by flying on a Pokemon’s back.

She directed the large bird to land, and it did so outside of the limits of Twinleaf Town; in a deserted-looking, grassy Route that looked like a glorified T-intersection. To the south was a rather boring-looking town, down the right road of the T was another rather boring-looking town, and to the left was a great amount of foliage. She quickly entered the clearing amidst the expanse of tree, and looked out over the shining lake that caught the sun’s light in such a wonderful manner.

She liked it here.

She liked it here, knowing that whatever was in these waters were all serene and at peace.

A cave floated on an island barely bigger than its contents in the middle of the brilliant, shining blue waters. Crossing these brilliant, shining blue waters was a Sharpedo, with a woman on its back; the only way she could keep her balance was to make sure one hand was fastened around the fin that stuck towards the sky.

Eventually, the Sharpedo got to its destination, the woman hopped off, and returned it with a ‘thanks, Sharpedo’.

“What is happening in there, Lucario?” She asked as she sent out a new Pokemon.

It was a canine, though perched on its hind legs. Jackal ears twitched, as the Pokemon closed its red eyes. There seemed to be a mask on its blue face, with four appendages similar to Mesprit’s – except there were two on each side of his head, right below the blue ears. A white spike stuck out from the fur on its chest. Two blue arms ending in black paws and yet another spike clenched their fists. Lucario shifted his weight, and repositioned his black legs.

“Luuuu!” It yelped suddenly. Its paws suddenly flared with blue light, almost like semi-transparent fire.

“Calm down, Lucario!” Yami put her hand on the Lucario’s shoulder. “So I guess something important is going on in there, huh?” She asked. Lucario nodded, curling his mouth into a snarl and making the appropriate noises.

She took a step forward, but no sooner had she put her foot down that Lucario stuck out a spiked paw in front of her throat. She took a step in the opposite direction, shocked. Lucario shook his fur-covered head at her.

“What?” She said. “Why shouldn’t I go in there?” Lucario fixed a stare on her that made his message quite clear: “Just don’t.”

“If it’s just because it’s dangerous, don’t stop me.” Yami frowned at her Pokemon. Crossing his paws over his chest, Lucario sighed to the best of his ability and shook his head again – it wasn’t the danger of an unknown cave.

Lucario desperately wished he could get the message across to her: There is something that will be painful to you in that cave, in more ways than one! Unfortunately for Lucario, in the wise words of his mother, ‘Aura does not work that way!’

But, alas, he couldn’t. He knew his Trainer trusted the smarter creature’s judgment. And, what do you know, she did. “Fine,” the woman sighed, “you win. We’ll leave.” Satisfied, Lucario nodded at last as he was sent back into his Pokeball.

The woman fixed a last fleeting look at the cave on the island. Her gaze drifted down to rest on her Pokeballs, and she shrugged – what ferocious demon was going to nail her down here? A Psyduck with about a third of the power any of her Pokemon had, at the very most. That was hardly a threat.

Of course, she never expected a Machoke to leap out at her from the undergrowth, and drag her back into the cave, gagged. But, you know, Machokes under a spell do some pretty dim-witted things (not that they’re much better in full control of themselves).

Mesprit was interrupted by a slam at the cave wall. Furious, she got up from her solitary position and floated out into the cavern. “What is it?” She asked irritably, turning her head to the source of the disturbance. It was one of her Machokes, apparently caught some human pain-in-the-tail slinking around outside.

“What are you waiting for?” She snapped in Pokespeak. “Bring it out so I can see our friend clearly.” The Machoke yanked the woman into the brighter area. She wore a long black trenchcoat, heavily tattered, as well as a black shirt and pants. Her boots were a charcoal gray, with orange soles. The (in)famous Murkrow hat jerked off her head, as did her dark sunglasses.

My sunglasses. That was the only thought that ran through the woman’s head as she felt her body soar forward in the Machoke’s grip. My sunglasses… my sunglasses… And then a new blaring alarm shot through her body: If she sees my eyes, chances are I’m dead. Urgh, I hate this.

As the pair of shades clattered to the rock-strewn floor, the woman looked up at Mesprit; the creature was going to get the picture anyway, so she might as well get it over with quickly. The Emotion Pokemon stared, dumbfounded, at her hostage’s face. The confusion settled for a while.

But slowly, very slowly, right in front of the Machoke and his prisoner, Mesprit’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth slowly rose up into a snarl/maniacal grin, pointed teeth glowing.

And, what do you know, she laughed. She laughed like a maniac. Again.

Everything had fallen into place, and this was only making it better!
Reply With Quote