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  #51    
Old May 30th, 2008 (03:00 AM).
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Acrutheo Acrutheo is offline
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Thank you for the compliment, Mantyke. ^^ Do you have any suggestions on how I might improve?

EDIT: Also, I've noticed that this story has reached both the thousand views mark and the three pages mark. Thanks again to all my readers and reviewers, I appreciate your interest, praise, and constructive criticism. ^^
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  #52    
Old May 30th, 2008 (05:08 AM).
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Quote:
with all the skipped weeks I worry that it may have been a little rushed. Did you find this to be a problem?
Quite the opposite, actually. I think that if you spent time on all of the weeks, the story would feel tedious. I think you've done very well with the overall pacing.

I will say that some of the individual scenes seemed a little rushed.

For example: I noticed that Kayla is a main character, yet a lot of her activities aren't detailed. For example, the readers aren't told how Kayla captures her makuhita. Was she pleased to have captured a powerful fighting type or was she resentful of her new pokemon because it represented her failure to capture Scyther before Watson? Also, readers don't see how Kayla fares in the obstacle course after having fallen behind Watson. I would have been interested to see how Kayla handled the Charmeleon.

*Sigh* I wish I could be this objective when reading my own story. Well, I guess that's what I've got you for, Acrutheo.
  #53    
Old May 30th, 2008 (09:46 PM).
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Ah, yes. Objectivity is so much easier with other people's works. ;>

The trouble with expanding upon Kayla in that chapter would be a problem of length. I'd already pushed how far I would've liked to go with that chapter wordcount-wise. 1800-3000 words is generally my limit, as I know that I, as a reader, really dislike having long chapters that I have to stop in the middle of. ^^;
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  #54    
Old May 31st, 2008 (04:53 PM).
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Wait... I haven't commented yet?! I could swear I did when I first read it...

Oh well, wonderful part. Your pacing is fabulous, unlike my usual one. I drag it out so much that even I get bored with it after a while. I'm gonna try not to with the next one.

It is very hard to be objective with one's own piece. This is why we post it and let others comment. Yup.

Well, just dropping by to say great part and yes, I'm still reading this.
  #55    
Old May 31st, 2008 (06:57 PM).
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First, I would like to say that this is one of the best fanfics I've read, and definitely the best Pokemon fanfic I've ever read.

Secondly, there arent too many things wrong with this other than the fact that there is kind of lack of characters.You got your Watson, you got our Kayla. But is there anyone else? I don't want to get bored about reading about one guy. However that's a small problem that you'll no doubt improve upon.

Thirdly, I'm excited for the next chapter! Keep up the good work. I honestly couldn't think of anything else to improve the story. It's just that good.
  #56    
Old June 1st, 2008 (03:09 PM). Edited June 1st, 2008 by Acrutheo.
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Thank you once again for your compliments, Sweet_Dreams and BigfootTheUnbeatable.

For your suggestion about the lack of characters, this will be addressed the chapter after next. Just, the first five chapters lead up to the new environment of number six (at least in my plan anyway), so putting too much effort into making other characters now would be wasted, as they'd be cut come chapter six.

But, come Chapter Six, new faces will definitely begin to emerge. Until then, unfortunately, you'll just have to bear with it. ^_^;
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  #57    
Old June 1st, 2008 (08:02 PM).
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I really liked this last chapter, especially the characterization of the guards with the severity of the exam. You did an excellent job of making such apparently inhuman characters seem much more human. I did spot one mistake, but it's nothing major:
Quote:
Watson’s smile contained both an air of arrogant pride: once again, he’d won.
I don't think you meant to write "both" there, you only refer to one thing that his smile contains.

Quote:
If you don't mind, I'd like to ask your opinion as a reviewer: what were your general impressions of the pacing? I need to get Watson out of the academy reasonably quickly as that setting has served its purpose for the plot, but with all the skipped weeks I worry that it may have been a little rushed. Did you find this to be a problem?
I don't think that putting too much detail into the unimportant parts of his training is a good idea, but I would say that his time there was longer. A six week term seems a little short for a school.

It's been superb so far, but be sure that you maintain the level of detail and care that you put into your work as you continue. A lot of writers (myself included) put an excellent amount of work into the early and unimportant parts and then get bored and slack off when their stories reach more climactic points. I'm sure you won't have that problem, but be careful nonetheless!
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  #58    
Old June 1st, 2008 (08:15 PM). Edited June 1st, 2008 by Acrutheo.
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Quote originally posted by icomeanon6:
I don't think you meant to write "both" there, you only refer to one thing that his smile contains.
Heh, that was once going to be "both an air of arrogance and of pride", and I obviously forgot to snip the "both" out. Thanks. ^^;

Quote originally posted by icomeanon6:
A six week term seems a little short for a school.
it's not so much school as Basic Training. According to Wikipedia, The airforce training is six and a half, so I didn't think six was too short.

Quote originally posted by icomeanon6:
It's been superb so far, but be sure that you maintain the level of detail and care that you put into your work as you continue. A lot of writers (myself included) put an excellent amount of work into the early and unimportant parts and then get bored and slack off when their stories reach more climactic points. I'm sure you won't have that problem, but be careful nonetheless!
I'll try my best not to. And if I do slip into the realms of mediocrity, bobandbill will hopefully slap me straight in his BETA review. XD

Thanks for the review, icomeanon6. ^^
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  #59    
Old June 2nd, 2008 (04:33 PM).
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I haven't been on PC for a little, so I couldn't check out Chapter 4...so, I just did now.

I thought that this chapter was also awesome, like the others. :)
I like descriptive words you used such as "professed". But, for some reason, I thought that the begining seemed a little wierd because so little time passed from day one at the academy to final exam day. It seemed unrealistic.

Well, it was great!
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  #60    
Old June 4th, 2008 (12:10 AM). Edited June 5th, 2008 by Acrutheo.
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Once again, bobandbill takes heaps of work from reviewers with his BETA report. XD Thanks. ^^ Also, thanks to Mewtwo42 for the compliments. ^^

-------

Chapter 5: Pain
Watson looked through curved slits upon the downtrodden streets of Lilycove City. Being from the much smaller Verdanturf, he wasn’t used to this kind of bustling activity. Suits walked in and out of buildings, Citizens hurried to work, Guards patrolled: everyone had something to do, somewhere to be. There was building after building after building, parted by endless, defective roads and narrow concrete pavements. Despite this activity, it was no less sombre here than it was in Verdanturf Town: misery and fear still smothered Lilycove just like every other place in this wretched region.

Power, however, rested with Watson. He was out of his drab dogi and in a powerful dark silver armour that evoked fear in passing citizens. He bore the menacing Empire crest over the right side of his chest: if someone were to strike his heart, the symbol would remain intact. Watson recalled a common saying by the Hoods in Hoenn.

‘We don’t need your life to sustain the Empire.’

Watson was assigned the job of patrolling Lilycove, and had been doing this for a few days now. His instructions were clear: “Kill the criminals, scare the Citizens, and leave the Suits alone.” He felt he was doing a fine job at the second instruction: Watson sneered at Citizens that were in range and even released his houndoom to terrify a young couple.

Just to remind them that it was not their place to enjoy themselves.

He did ponder about the relation with the Suits, though. He’d always recognised their importance: they were intelligent people – the brains – were they superior to Guards? But only the top Suits were allowed to carry pokémon, and even then, only one. In that sense, they were inferior. Perhaps the two classes were equal? Or maybe the Hoods planned it like this to create a further sense of confusion, to disorientate people so they became intellectually dependent on the Empire.

He admired the Empire’s intelligence for this.

However, Watson was bored, and wanted to exert some of his well-earned power. So, when he saw a child protesting about not being bought a toy he wanted, Watson seized the opportunity. He slowly approached the duo, his cold boots menacingly quiet along a dark road of this melancholy area.

“Is there a problem here, Citizens?”

Fear swelled up in the green eyes of the mother. The blond-haired boy seemed to not fully understand the power that Watson wielded; he must have been five years old at most.

“Please,” the mother pleaded and her brunette hair shook, “It’s alright.”

“So your child is guilty of rioting and you’re guilty of perjury, then!”

The Empire had a knack for hyperbole in its criminal charges. As a Guard, Watson was the policeman, judge, jury, and executioner over this woman and her child. Lying to a Guard was tantamount to perjury, and punishable by a cruel, public death, at the Guard’s discretion.

Watson was in two minds about this situation. In his hands, he held the lives of two people he had never met. Absolute fear was in the mother’s eyes, and now the child was beginning to cry. He had real power now – this made him feel incredibly fulfilled. But was it enough to just have the power and to be feared if he did not use it?

And if he did, would it be moral? Watson had never had any time for ethics; they only held him back. But now he was in a situation of power. He was a Guard! He could exercise his own morals! To an extent, at least.

He stood there, looking at the woman through the metal slits of his helmet, observing her – what would he do? Watson had been abused by the Guards in his childhood – it served to make him tougher. Didn’t it?

Yes. It did. If Watson was left to glide through his childhood without discipline, then he would not be what he is today: a powerful Guard.

“Give me your child,” said Watson coldly.

Maternal instincts kicked in, and the mother sobbed, “No, anything but that!”

“You will do as I say or you will be fed to the beedrill, along with your child!”

The mother’s mouth hung half open, and the blond-haired boy hid, now terrified, behind his mother. Was he becoming a monster? Either way, it was too late to back down now. Mercy was not to be shown.

“Boy, stand in front of me.”

Sobbing quietly, his eyes red with fearful tears, the boy slowly approached the front of Watson. Several Citizens were now watching – it was intoxicating. They hated this Guard and what he was doing, yet their vulture instinct made them curious as to his punishment. And Watson, with an air of satisfaction, noted their fear: it hung in the air, like a malodorous gas.

This boy was to fall victim to a reenactment of Watson’s punishment when he was six. He threw a master ball vigorously on the ground (Ira had been transferred from its pokéball after Watson graduated) and a scyther emerged. Both the boy and his mother looked fearfully at this giant insect.

“Slash his thigh open,” Watson said sadistically.

Ira hesitated. There was a silent murmur emerging: could the Guard not control his own pokémon? Anger erupted and Watson spluttered, “Ira! How dare you defy me! Slash it open now!”

Ira reluctantly lifted her large claw and brought it down with immense power upon the child’s thigh. The poor child screamed in pain as he fell with great force upon the ground. Blood stained the concrete menacingly. The mother fell down to her child and she wrapped a bandage around him; Citizens always carried bandages in case of incidences like these. An unwelcome pang of remorse hit Watson’s chest.

This was no treatment for a child!

However, he could not show kindness. Mercy was forbidden for Guards once the rampage had begun. Ira, on the other hand, seemed significantly more downtrodden at this act. She was finally beginning to see Watson as a friend, and then this catastrophe happened.

“Hopefully this will teach you to show your brat the difference between right and wrong,” concluded Watson, only being able to vaguely remember what had incited such an attack. “Ira, return.”

By the time Watson turned his head to look upon the streets, the audience that he knew was once there was gone. In its place, a puddle of fresh, yellow vomit.

******

What an ugly area: a black façade rose high into the air, without windows or texture; twisted gargoyles of Hoods and powerful pokémon surrounded the place; it was desolate, feared, hated. There was no grass, only concrete, and it was built into a large wall of rock. The rest of Lilycove was beautiful compared to this eyesore.

It was the office of the Lilycove Hood.

Each area in the Empire had a Hood assigned to it. The purpose of the Local Hoods was simple: instill fear, terror, and suffering over their region. The Lilycove Hood was quite a terrible one: he was well known across the Empire for being the most vicious, sadistic Local Hood. Rumor had it that he had been offered many promotions before, but he’d obviously turned them down: they didn’t give them enough opportunity to torture Citizens anywhere else.

Watson’s job here was simple: make sure those coming in and leaving had the authority to do so. And it was quite easy, but tedious: only Guards and Suits went in and out of this building, so he had no opportunity to exert his power.

Until the afternoon.

Watson had received a signal through his helmet to enter the building. His helmet had an excellent communicator within it, so he could call for backup or be called upon when needed. But it had a far more useful purpose. It could identify Hoods. A few days ago, he had seen a Hood briefly pass, who his helmet identified to be the Deputy Supreme Commander of the Guards. Curious that he (or she – it was impossible to tell) would be coming through Lilycove. But, as Watson knew, it wasn’t his place to ask questions.

At least, not verbally.

As he hurriedly entered the building, he noticed that it was almost precisely like the Guard academy: windowless, depressing, and with black marble walls. There were no redeeming features of this soulless building.

Watson further noticed that there were a few other Guards at his tail, running from elsewhere. What could possibly be wrong? They were about to find out: a senior Guard approached them. He wore almost the same intimidating uniform, but three white stars were visible on the left side of his chest, opposite to the Crest of the Empire.

He spoke in a half-whisper, signaling danger, “we have received credible information that there are rebels inside this building, so we’re bulking up our security inside.”

One Guard asked with a genuine worry within his voice, “Is it His Eminency?”

One pompous, familiar voice answered the question for the senior Guard. “Why else would they come into the master of Lilycove’s place of work unless they wanted to kill him?”

Ah, his old rival, Kayla – he hadn’t seen her since the academy, and he could see that she hadn’t changed much.

And so, for an hour, these Guards patrolled the interior of the Lilycove Fortress. It seemed to be a false alarm – there were no bombs, no drawn pokéballs, and no rebels storming in. Well, there might have been – rebels had no uniform and simply disguised themselves as Citizens and Suits. But, if they had entered, they certainly hadn’t done anything.

“So, how has your career been treating you?”

An innocent question, as most would have taken it. Watson was now assigned to stand Guard at a door that had no discernible purpose, with his old rival Kayla. However, Watson, being naturally sceptical, decided not to answer.

“I heard you ordered your scyther to attack a five-year-old,” she said, still maintaining an innocent tone of voice. “Not using your own fists anymore to injure the helpless?”

He couldn’t help himself, “So that’s an admission that you’re helpless?”

“No, Young, just a ploy to get you to say something.”

And so they stood, mostly in silence, exchanging occasional sneers and insults at each other. At five minutes until the next rotation, both seemed extremely relieved that they would soon be out of each other’s company. And not necessarily because they didn’t like each other – but because their mutual hatred seemed to be waning.

It seemed, that despite the Hoenn education system, they were both intelligent, and could connect on an intellectual level. However, the way they connected on this level was through slinging insults back and forth, some of which would not be insulting to most people, simply because they wouldn’t understand them.

Bzzz.

Their communicators were speaking to them with the voice of the senior Guard. “We have identified a rebel who is masquerading as a Suit. He will use the identification card of Robert Carter – kill on sight.”

Watson and Kayla exchanged worried looks; a couple of minutes ago, they had admitted a Suit through the door they were guarding. And his identification card definitely said “Robert Carter.”

They hurriedly used their communicators to inform the other Guards of this and told them of their location, shortly before silently opening their door and, pokéballs drawn, creeping forward. Keeping as low as they could, they moved along this dimly lit corridor and eventually reached a shiny metal door.

And behind it, they could hear muffled sounds of crashing; sabotage; destruction.

Watson silently pulled the door open and snuck in, Kayla at his tail. It was terrible: a graveler, at the command of what looked like a Suit, was destroying files and computers. Piles of information now lay in shreds and ruins on the white-tiled floor.

At the release of Amicus and Aliquant, the distracted rebel noticed them. “’Bout time, Empire lackies,” he grinned. Next to him stood a large, grey pokémon with four stubby, but seemingly powerful arms protruding from its body. “Graveler, Rock Polish!”

“Aliquant, Vital Throw!”

The rock pokémon seemed to weep some kind of transparent liquid out of its body, making it almost instantaneously shiny and lubricious. The makuhita charged at graveler, who merely stood, looking amused. By the time Kayla realized what had happened it was too late: Aliquant, with all its force lunged at the pokémon, quickly losing its grip and hitting hard down upon the floor.

“Amicus, Fire Spin!”

The houndoom released a hurricane of fire, but Graveler easily slid out of the way. It seemed unbefitting for such a brutish pokémon to slide away with the grace of an ice skater. Footsteps sounded behind them, and the rebel knew he was in trouble.

“Graveler, Mud Sport!”

The graveler said its own name, and released upon the Guards and their pokémon a large amount of thick, disgusting mud, that knocked the humans off their feet, and made the pokémon flinch. By the time they’d wiped their eyes, two backup Guards stood behind them, and the rebel was gone, the pitter-patter of his feet vaguely audible through a white door on the other side of the room.

Watson was not going to wait. He ran after this infidel, determined not to have that blast of mud as the last word. He ran agilely and rapidly to his prey. The black marble walls either side of him were phantasmal whirs of shadow, but he could see the running rebel now.

After a few more seconds of running, the rebel took a sharp turn to the side, which Watson wasn’t prepared for, and in his attempt to slow down, ran past the door. Quickly recovering from this embarrassment, he turned and ran through this new far more narrow corridor, and saw an open door at the end.

Watson’s killer instinct was now in overdrive: just a little further, and he would have singlehandedly caught a rebel! In his first week of being a Guard!

The carrot of success now bigger and juicier than ever, he emerged through the door, refusing to show any sign of tiredness. Light flooded this room – or, more accurately, it appeared to after the dimness of the corridor. He stood on a black marble balcony above the atrium, running around the circumference of it. Below, there were numerous pokémon battles occurring in a series of blind rages. Shouting, fire, electricity, ice: the terrifying calmness of this building had now become exciting chaos.

Scanning both his left and his right, he saw the rebel a catchable distance away from him. To his left.

“Amicus, catch him!”

The houndoom emerged from its ball with a determined expression upon its face, and sprinted after the rebel. Upon seeing the futility of running from a houndoom, the suited rebel approached it and released his graveler.

“Graveler, Rollout!”

The animate rock curled itself into a ball and rolled, with increasing acceleration, at Amicus. Watson, running along the balcony to meet the battle, shouted the obvious to his companion, “Dodge it, Amicus!”

Watson’s pokémon moved to the side with ease, but the rolling pokémon simply turned and sped back, even faster, towards Amicus. Amicus dodged again, but with more difficulty this time. As Watson reached the battle, Amicus had dodged the spinning rock for a third time, and it didn’t look like it could be done a fourth.

“Amicus, Torment!”

The houndoom let out a low, psychotic growl that caused the Graveler to immediately stop rolling, and instead proceed forward in a painful tumble. When Graveler tried to achieve its balance, it looked positively enraged; unable to think clearly.

However, it never regained its balance, as Amicus lowered its head and thrust it off the balcony, where it hit the floor below with a painful whine and a large thud. Even in a high-pressure situation like this, Watson still felt that hurting the enemy’s pokémon that badly was a terrible act.

Once again, though, remorse had tricked him: in his moment of reflection, the suited rebel was flying down to the floor to aid his comrades, his long blonde hair flying in the wind created by his method of transport: a staraptor, a large, grayish brown bird with a white belly and crimson crest feathers.

Watson withdrew Amicus and sent out Ira, who had still not forgiven Watson for his atrocious act upon the small boy.

“Please, Ira,” Watson pleaded, “I know it seems wrong – but – look, I promise I’ll explain later if you help me save Lilycove from anarchy!”

Ira seemed to find some sense in this, and her trainer was desperate: rarely was he so inarticulate. So, with an obvious reluctance, Watson was allowed to climb upon Ira’s back, and they flew down with haste to the atrium.

It was quite a spectacular sight: pokémon of all species and strengths were evident on both sides, a spurt of flame would come up, a gust of wind would blow it away, a hail of rocks would fight against that wind, only to be smashed by a powerful punch. Watson wanted nothing more than to involve himself in this large battle immediately.

He quickly released Amicus again, and told him to use Fire Spin on an ivysaur that seemed to be causing one of his fellow Guards trouble.

“Ira, Swords Dance!”

Ira leapt into the air and swung her blades with a mad fury to protect herself from the fierce spray of water from an enemy quagsire, and the water flung around the room, lightly raining upon its inhabitants.

“Quagsire, Mud Bomb!”

What was it with rebels and mud? “Ira, Safeguard!”

At his command, the scyther raised its claws in front of its body and glowed a heavenly white, and the ball of mud released by the quagsire’s mouth fell to the ground upon touching this aura.

Something hit Watson’s foot: it was Amicus! He was engaged in two battles at once, and was far too inexperienced to win them both. The poor houndoom lay pathetically at his feet, breathing heavily; bruises seemed to be developing on Amicus’s front legs and forehead.

In this moment of distraction, Ira fell back into Watson: he’d been paying too much attention to his injured pokémon and not enough to his healthy one. Watson now lay painfully on the marble floor, struggling to get up, with all the weight of Ira on him.

He painfully whispered a single word to both of his pokémon.

“Sorry.”

And at this word, Watson felt the powerful foot of a rebel hostilely meet his face. His senses drifted away, and before oblivion cradled him, Watson knew nothing. Nothing but one feeling, that crept through his body and grappled it with all its might.

Pain.
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  #61    
Old June 4th, 2008 (07:28 AM).
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This is quite an amazing story. Definately one of the better fan fictions that are up.

There's not much to say on grammar. From what knowledge I do have, you've got it down pretty well.

I...well, what can I say? Truly amazing work. I love for the feeling of pain is described at the end of the chapter. I'm truly speechless. Keep it up-- it's epic. It's paranoia and epidemic spreading through Hoenn.

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  #62    
Old June 4th, 2008 (01:27 PM).
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There wasn't really anything wrong with chapter 5. Although, I thought the "be mean" theme of being a gaurd was a bit much. What I mean is that cutting the kid's thigh was a bit drastic.

There was nothing really wrong with the chapter as a whole(as I, said before) but the entire fan fic needs one thing that I think would make the writing better in general. You don't seem to describe the area in much detail. When you describe the windowless buildings, everything is fine - but when I'm reading the fic it starts to feel a bit shallow because there is not much text decribing the area is taking place in. When the reader is left to think up scenery by themselves, they realize quickly that they are reading, and not totally immersed in the story. The goal(I believe) is to have the reader feel as though they are in the story, totally immersed. You may want to consult other people for suggestions on this, but that's my opinion.

I still think it's great, though!! Please keep posting!
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Old June 4th, 2008 (08:42 PM).
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Quote originally posted by SilverSmeargleSplatter:
This is quite an amazing story. Definately one of the better fan fictions that are up.

There's not much to say on grammar. From what knowledge I do have, you've got it down pretty well.

I...well, what can I say? Truly amazing work. I love for the feeling of pain is described at the end of the chapter. I'm truly speechless. Keep it up-- it's epic. It's paranoia and epidemic spreading through Hoenn.

-Silver
Thank you very much. ^^ I appreciate the compliment.

Quote originally posted by Mewtwo42:
There wasn't really anything wrong with chapter 5. Although, I thought the "be mean" theme of being a gaurd was a bit much. What I mean is that cutting the kid's thigh was a bit drastic.
Exactly. If you'll recall from earlier chapters, Watson once had his thigh sliced open by a scyther as a small child, and now he was to project hid punishment as a child upon another. I did try to get across the effect that Watson thought it was for the child's own good to be toughened up, despite his mixed feelings about it - it was quite a complex moral dilemma I was trying to portray here.

Do you think I should have focused more on this?

Quote originally posted by Mewtwo42:
There was nothing really wrong with the chapter as a whole(as I, said before) but the entire fan fic needs one thing that I think would make the writing better in general. You don't seem to describe the area in much detail. When you describe the windowless buildings, everything is fine - but when I'm reading the fic it starts to feel a bit shallow because there is not much text decribing the area is taking place in. When the reader is left to think up scenery by themselves, they realize quickly that they are reading, and not totally immersed in the story. The goal(I believe) is to have the reader feel as though they are in the story, totally immersed. You may want to consult other people for suggestions on this, but that's my opinion.
Yes, I agree. Scenery imagery has always been my weakest point as a writer - well, not so much scenery imagery itself, but more effectively incorporating it into the story. On reflection, I think Chapter 5 was weaker in this department than the other chapters. However, I wasn't sure if others agreed, so now that this has been confirmed, I'll endeavour to make this a non-issue in the coming chapters. Thanks for the advice. ^^

Quote originally posted by Mewtwo42:
I still think it's great, though!! Please keep posting!
Thanks. ;D Like I said before though, I have no intention to stop. And criticism only makes me better, rather than driving me away. :D
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  #64    
Old June 5th, 2008 (07:11 AM). Edited June 6th, 2008 by EricDaRed.
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Very nice chapter. I found myself surprised and disgusted by Watson's actions against the 5-year-old, but that is not a criticism. The emotional reaction the passage caused was quite potent considering that I'm was reading a mere fictional story!

One of the passages confused me as I was reading though:

Quote:
At five minutes until the next rotation, both seemed extremely relieved to be out of each other’s company.
I think both seemed extremely relieved that they would soon be out of each other’s company would be more clear.

The way I read it I thought that the shift change had occurred and was thus confused by the next passage about Carter.


I also enjoyed the part were Watson found himself unable to to manage two battles at once. This was cool because it challenged my concept that Watson is this great pokemon trainer with boundless skill. In a way, the real world as a Guard is proving tougher for Watson than the academy was. At the academy he was nearly always on top, always in control.
  #65    
Old June 5th, 2008 (08:10 PM).
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Quote originally posted by EricDaRed:
Very nice chapter. I found myself surprised and disgusted by Watson's actions against the 5-year-old, but that is not a criticism. The emotional reaction the passage caused was quite potent considering that I'm was reading a mere fictional story!
Excellent. ^^ Then it had exactly the effect I wanted. :D

Quote originally posted by EricDaRed:
I think both seemed extremely relieved that they would soon be out of each other’s company would be more clear.
I agree. Thanks for the advice. ^^

Quote originally posted by EricDaRed:
I also enjoyed the part were Watson found himself unable to to manage two battles at once. This was cool because it challenged my concept that Watson is this great pokemon trainer with boundless skill. In a way, the real world as a Guard is proving tougher for Watson than the academy was. At the academy he was nearly alway on top, always in control.
That's good, because the infinite_POWAH_my_starter_beats_ur_legendary type trainer is the type I want to avoid. Watson's skilled, but not to the level of ridiculousness.

Thanks for the review, EricDaRed. ^^
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  #66    
Old June 7th, 2008 (06:08 PM).
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Well, in hindsight, I agree that the scenery could do with a little work, but remember not to put in too much. Especially in an action scene. I would find it slightly disconcerting if, when you're reading about an aerial attack from an enemy, the story suddenly gabbles about the colour of the others' tunics. However, this can sometimes be appropriate, so... meh... I trust you not to make that mistake that I'll probably make in the future.

Yes, the fact that he had failed his Pokemon and the two seperate battles reinforce the feeling of reality in this situation. The mistakes, feelings of regret and consequences of his actions make him seem more human, and, to me, his rash decision to inflict pain upon a child is understandable, although in no way approved of. It informs the readers that the Guards have their own reasons for being cruel.

And I think I forgot to mention that having the main characters as part of the "evil organisation" and not a part of the rebels cancels any clicheness at all.

Well, I shall breathlessly await the next part.
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  #67    
Old June 7th, 2008 (09:52 PM).
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Quote originally posted by Sweet_Dreams:
Especially in an action scene. I would find it slightly disconcerting if, when you're reading about an aerial attack from an enemy, the story suddenly gabbles about the colour of the others' tunics.
I certainly hope I don't. In those situations, the only description that would occur would be an adjective that directly precedes a noun, eg. "the blue wing struck...", and any more detailed imagery would not occur mid-action.

Quote originally posted by Sweet_Dreams:
his rash decision to inflict pain upon a child is understandable, although in no way approved of.
Interesting perspective. Not mine, but I suppose that's because I know Watson's character better than anyone else. Though, it's good to see that the story is sprouting different opinions, rather than just telling people what to think. ^^

Quote originally posted by Sweet_Dreams:
And I think I forgot to mention that having the main characters as part of the "evil organisation" and not a part of the rebels cancels any clicheness at all.
I have to smile at this comment. As the story progresses, if I do it well and as planned, things will become more blurred, and it will be very difficult to discern which "side" is evil.

Thanks for the review, Sweet_Dreams. ^^
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  #68    
Old October 30th, 2008 (06:16 PM). Edited October 31st, 2008 by Acrutheo.
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After having some family problems, I have decided to return to PC and continue this story. :D I come bearing two gifts: a summary of the events thus far (for those that want to refresh their memory but don't want to have to reread everything again), and Chapter Six (which, I'm afraid, may be a bit rusty, but bobandbill did 'BETA' it). Enjoy. :)

Summary:
Spoiler:
Prologue: After the development of the master ball is suppressed by Hoenn President Walter Whittaker, it reaches the black market. A revolutionary group seizes them and overthrows the Republic, forming the tyrannical Hoenn Empire.

Chapter 1: Watson, a people-loathing person with a strange affinity for pokémon is introduced. As is a pompous but intelligent girl named Kayla. The two have just received their houndour, and are training to become Guards (agents of the Empire). Watson names his houndour Amicus; Kayla names hers Fortis.

Chapter 2: It starts with the Guard cadets all training for battle. Watson and Kayla battle and Watson loses. Meanwhile, the Emperor of Hoenn has just captured a senior developer of the Master Ball and tells him to improve it, so that he may capture Legendary Pokémon, thereby allowing him to invade other regions.

Chapter 3: The first cadet exam means that all cadets must capture a pokémon. Watson captures a scyther which he calls Ira; Kayla captures a makuhita and names it Aliquant.

Chapter 4: The final cadet exam. It involves a rigorous obstacle course and intense pokémon battles. Watson is the most successful in the obstacle course, and ties with Kayla in the pokémon battles.

Chapter 5: Watson, now a Guard, patrols the Lilycove Local Headquarters of the Empire. There is a mass battle between the Empire and the Rebels, but Watson cannot keep up. The chapter ends with him losing consciousness.


Chapter Six: Hell
Darkness faded into dimness. Tiredly, Watson opened his eyes. Where was he? What happened? Suddenly features began to appear - it felt like he had been asleep for days. The last thing he remembered, he was in Lilycove - and - and the battle! Of course!

The room was small, intimidating, and subfusc. Watson sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair, across from a skinny man with greying brunette hair. To Watson’s left, there was a mirror, which, as he suspected, was two-way. He was stripped of his Guard uniform and his pokémon, and sat with a drab, bole robe draped across him.

The middle-aged man leaned across the table and spoke in a confident voice, “Tell me your name, Guard.”

“Wh-what?”

“Your name, please, young man.” He shook his head solemnly. “You’re just a boy, aren’t you? They’re sending ‘em into battle younger and younger these days.”

Watson’s natural suspicion kicked in, and he lied. “My name is Matthew.”

“Well, Matthew, look at the situation you’re in now. Do you know where we are?”

Watson leaned back in defiant silence.

“It’s your choice, actually. Stay like that and this place will be your tomb: we rebels are no less ruthless than the Empire in punishing those who defy us. One of your comrades that we captured refused to talk, so we dug a Weedle horn into his foot, stripped him bare, and threw him into a cell. It’ll take about three days for the poison to reach his vital organs.” Watson’s interrogator paused. “In the meantime, he can enjoy the painful leg rot that will be setting in shortly.

“On the other hand, you could cooperate. Unless you feel so indebted to your Empire that you are willing to become a martyr for them? Are your principles that strong, Matthew?”

Watson scoffed. “I hardly became a Guard because I’m a patriot. I came for the lifestyle of luxury and rule. What can a group of outcasts possibly give me that is equivalent to that?”

“You’re a shrewd boy, Matthew, so consider this: when faced with a torturous death, is life not its own luxury?”

Watson thought about this, and realised the logic in his interrogator’s answer. He despised this position he was in – a position of weakness. His adversary had, at his disposal, thousands of people who would kill him, and pokémon at his waist. To help gain some emotional stability, Watson afforded himself a little power, and decided to pose a question to his captor. “What is your name?”

“My name is Matthew,” smirked the interrogator. “Quid Pro Quo, I’m afraid.”

Was Watson that easy to read? Or was he just surrounded by a lot of emotionally adept people? “Very well, old man: my name is Watson, now tell – “

Eyes widening, the man commanded, “Boy, what is your last name?”

“Young, why?”

“Oh,” he said, sounding profusely disappointed. “As per our understanding, my name is Gary Moore.”

“Why were you so interested in my last name?” Watson was curious.

“Unimportant,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “So, Watson, have you made your decision? Shall it be the Weedle horn, or life as an Enemy of the State?”

Watson ignored the question in his desperate struggle for some power in this conversation. “Why me?”

“Nothing personal, kid. It’s just that Guards make the best Rebels, ironically enough. They’ve had strict pokémon training and almost always operate out of self-interest, so they come to our way of thinking when we tell them of how they’ll be executed. Now, do not stall anymore. Answer the question: Weedle or Rebel?”
Watson took no time in coming to his answer.

“Rebel.”


******

Watson now found himself sitting on a plastic, crimson chair in a wide, circular room, with many other rebels. Gary was at the centre of the room, projecting a loud voice across the hall. It was hardly as lavish as the rooms of the Hoods, and did not possess any unnecessary aesthetic features, but certainly did not possess the rotting walls of Citizen houses.

“Well done to those who went into Lilycove three days ago. We have been deeply successful, and now welcome six new rebels to our ranks!”

At this announcement, there was a cheer. Watson found this brotherhood sickening. And then he realised: these people were brainwashed. The rebellion possessed all the cult-like elements of the Empire. Would Hoenn be any better off if the Rebels won?

“And we have uncovered a plan, one that is not worth cheering about.” Gary’s face was solemn. “We managed to uncover the opening page of Operation Sweeping Sky. We could not retrieve the others, but allow me to read to you a paragraph from it.

“‘The Emperor has made it clear that his rule over Hoenn is insufficient. After capturing Bjorn Eckleberry, inventor of the first stable master ball, we have decided that we shall use him to improve the power of the ball. With this, we shall capture the Legendary Pokémon, and launch an attack on the region of Johto. Our forces shall eventually move to Kanto. The end result shall be the acquisition of two colonies.’”

The hall was silent. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

Deathly silence.

Watson had heard the terms “Kanto” and “Johto” in passing reference, and understood that they were tribal savages that had not learned to tame pokémon, and rejected the Emperor’s society. But now he realised that those descriptions must be lies: these places must be alternate civilisations!

And now, they were to be captured. Soon, they would have to endure the same hell that every Citizen of Hoenn had to endure every day.

“As we know, this would also mean the death of the rebellion. We simply cannot compete with the Empire if they can use the legendary Rayquaza to send a bolt of lightning that would kill ten at once, or the legendary Jirachi to seek out our bases with its psychic powers. This is it, my friends. We have been so far working on acts of sabotage, and occasionally intelligence and counterintelligence. But this is where it gets serious.

“It is now a race against the Empire: can we topple them before they can perfect the master ball?”

******

“Amicus! Ira!”

The houndoom and scyther rushed towards him, after being released from their master balls, delivered to Watson’s cabin. The joy in Ira’s face to be reunited with Watson meant that she had forgiven Watson’s cruelty to the child a few days ago.

Amicus looked around, sniffed the air, and asked, “<Where are we, Watson?>”

“Change of plans, Amicus. We’ve – well – switched sides.”

Ira’s face lightened up immediately upon hearing this news, and she said her name several times, in gratitude.

Watson bowed his head sadly, saying, “Ira, it’s not what you think. I may not be a Guard anymore, but I’m working for an organisation that is just as cruel. It tortures those who do not help it. It enslaves and indoctrinates people. As you may have seen, it commits terrorist activities that kill and wound innocent civilians. The only difference between the Empire and the Rebels is their power. We’re still working for a diabolical organisation.”

Watson smiled a sad smile, but Ira sunk to the floor, not happy enough to beat her wings.

“<Ira, cheer up.>” Amicus touched his nose to Scyther’s arm compassionately.

“<How can I, Amicus? This world is evil. When I am wild, I become captured. When I am captured, my captor is cruel. When he is not, those he works for are cruel. And my claws are used to commit these cruel acts!>”

Watson could only respond with a sad nod.

“<Ira, that’s how the world works. Watson and I hate it too. But there is no escaping reality. Sometimes our duty is to do what we cannot see as moral. But we must do it. That doesn’t make you a bad pokémon.>”

“<We are defined by our actions, are we not?>”

“<True, but when we must do things, we must disregard ethics. Ethics cannot apply to actions we must perform, but only to those that we choose.>”

“<But we do have a choice, Amicus! We can choose to run away! But we fear for Watson! We fear for ourselves! Ultimately, all pokémon who perform terrible deeds are too cowardly to do the right thing.>”

“It is unreasonable for you to thrust yourself into a life of fear, Ira,” Watson said. “Your choice may not be completely taken from you, but is limited severely. If you flee from me so that you may avoid the deeds that I am ordered to see happen, you will just be captured by someone else. Someone crueler. And all the while you will live in fear. What we have, Ira, is friendship. It can help us get through these acts which we must perform: it gives us a positive purpose amongst all the negative.”

Ira’s wings beat sadly in depressed acknowledgement.

******

“Arcanine, what did you bring me? Oran Berries? Delicious!”

It was a small riverbed, the ground drenched in autumnal leaves. The man was leaning up against a small, brown, withering tree; one of many that surrounded this serene place. A nice little secret deep in the rarely visited bush east of Pallet Town.

An old man, white-haired, bearded, and muscular, gratefully gripped the blue berry and hungrily gulped it down. “Do you remember when I was so rich that even you could enjoy roast combusken cuisine?”

The Arcanine barked reminiscently. “<Yeah, I know, buddy.>”

The man paused and looked at his companion. “Do you think what I’m doing is wrong?”

The orange and black-striped canine simply stared into the old man’s eyes. It was a question the old man had asked him so many times, and yet, neither could find a conclusive answer. About twenty years ago, this old man went by the name Walt to his friends.

Walter Whittaker to the public.

But, he went by no name now. He never stayed in one place too long, forced to live a nomadic life due to the spies of the Empire, which lurked throughout the world, in search of him, and the other Public Enemy.

“You know, Arcanine, it’s been fifteen years, if I’m not much mistaken. You know what that means.”

The Arcanine barked solemnly.

“How long do you think it will take him? It’ll certainly be nice to come out of hiding.”

Until then, Walt could only wonder what was happening in the Empire, and to those inside it. And, knowing the Emperor, he could only think of one word to describe it.

Hell.
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  #69    
Old November 4th, 2008 (08:00 PM).
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Chapter Seven: True Power
A little auburn-haired six-year old pranced around the school garden, jubilance galore. There were rose bushes, lush grass, and fences small enough to climb on; the world was a playground: so many games, so much fun to be had, so little time. The only thing more that this happy child could want was a father.

“Oi! Brat! What are you doing?”

A slit-faced figure wearing heavy armour was beckoning to him in the distance.

“Nothing, mister! Hey, can I see your pokémon?”

“What? No!” The Guard was fuming. This kid wasn’t scared at all! “Learn your place, you snivelling little runt! You don’t talk to me like that!”

The kid chuckled. “Bet ya can’t catch me, old man!” Full of glee, the child ran off, not possessing the fear that every other child did. And, of course, the child’s challenge was met rather swiftly, the Guard quickly scooping up the gleeful thing.

And then kicking him to the ground.

The child cried in pain: this was no game. Two older teachers in the distance pleaded silently. A younger one stood and nodded.

“You wanna see my pokémon, kid? Alright, I’ll show it to you! Scyther!”

The Guard released a gigantic emerald insect that towered over the small boy, now cowering in the foetal position. Across its eye was a deep, terrifying scar, one that would haunt the boy for years to come. The Guard cried viciously, “Slash!”

The Scyther lifted its claw, and mercilessly cut the small child. Blood gushed from his thigh. Scream after scream echoed and tear after tear dropped. This was the most excruciating thing the poor child had ever felt. Fear swallowed him, and the poor thing fell unconscious.

Watson woke from his dream with a weak squeak, his shirt drenched in cold sweat. It was one that he experienced on a frequent basis for the past nine years. He shook his head, lay down again in the white sheets, and tried to allow sleep to cradle him.

Unsuccessfully.

The most horrible emotion plagued Watson, brought alive by his nightmare. Guilt. Watson recalled, in his short time as a Guard, the attack on the small child, for the offense of exhibiting as much nonconformity as Watson once did. Watson usually did not feel much compassion for his fellow man, least of all those who cause anger to him, but he couldn’t help but feel regret for his vicious strike upon that small, nameless child.

Would the child remember the attack as bitterly as Watson remembered his? Would it change his joy into anger, like it did to Watson? He would never know; this ate him inside more than anything else. He would never know what would become of the one he destroyed.

******

One could think of the Rebels and the Empire as two separate governments: one in power; one in exile. The government in power grows overconfident and complacent, so suffers multiple inefficiencies; the one in exile has only limited resources and is desperate, so it compensates by being efficient. And such was the issue with the computers in the Guard Headquarters on Mt. Pyre.

The Empire had outlawed computers for all but the very elite to own; their computer security engineers did the bare minimum; the Rebels stole a few computers and kidnapped skilled technicians; the Rebels broke into the system.

Such hacking was done sparingly, for it was traceable, and breaches would lead to a hysteria in the Empire which would lead them to significantly improve their security infrastructure. The Rebels knew about a security hole in their systems for months, but waited for the right opportunity to exploit it.

Operation Sweeping Sky was that opportunity.

And now, through this exploit, the Rebellion had the whole eighty-one page brief, and the many pieces of sensitive information that came with it. They now knew that Eckleberry was scheduled to have a proper master ball finished three months from now, that Olivine City was the Empire’s planned port of attack, and that Public Enemy Number Two was last spotted just outside of Ecruteak City.

“Who’s Public Enemy Number Two?” Watson inquired, upon receiving a copy of the brief.
The person he had asked was a nineteen-year old Rebel called Lew. Lew was a buff, blond-haired former Guard, and had been working with the Rebels for two years. His eyes were a penetrating brown, and he was quite stout. Watson had taken an immediate liking to Lew: much like Watson, Lew originally joined as an alternative to execution.

Over the years, Lew had told Watson, he realised that, despite its cultish behaviour, the Rebellion was ultimately united in a good cause: the death of the Emperor. It was just that the leaders could not tolerate dissent in order to achieve this goal, and the incompetence of the Empire needed to be constantly reinforced to the public through terrorism. Lew also noted, “Nothing could be worse than this hellhole, Watson. Nothing.”

Lew also noted that the Rebellion was an easier place to get promoted to the top positions, a prospect which made Watson interested. The Rebels were far more interested in merit and new ideas than the Empire, which wanted conformity to the twisted worldview of its leader.

“Public Enemy Number Two is really not public at all,” joked Lew. “We have strong reason to believe that it was a man named Flynn, who was the original right-hand man of the Emperor. You see, back before the Emperor seized control, Flynn was the Minister of Finance in the Republic – essentially the second most powerful position after the President.
“He was used by the Emperor to corrupt the entire system and poison the administration with corruption and incompetence – more than it already had. He was the real architect behind the fall of the Republic – the Emperor just coordinated the revolution, and had the most charisma.

“Eventually, Flynn tried to kill the Emperor – nobody knows why. We have our theories, but they’re mostly baseless. He failed, obviously, and then fled Hoenn. Nobody has a clue where he is now, and the Ecruteak spotting is probably a lie to motivate the Hoods. Some think he’s dead. At least they have an idea where Public Enemy Number One – Walter Whittaker – is. But even with him, it’s still pretty vague: Southern Kanto.”

Watson smiled, and had mixed feelings on Whittaker. In school, he learned about Whittaker as a deadly tyrant who knew how to command savage pokémon, and used them to massacre those who opposed him, until the courageous Emperor destroyed him. This, of course, was a complete lie.

Watson now knew that Whittaker had not stayed, but had fled like a coward, and ran a system that certainly had pokémon under control. He also knew that upon the creation of the Empire, the Emperor released a Public Enemy list to the Hoods – one that spanned over three-hundred names. And yet Whittaker was clever enough to be one of two that managed to evade the Emperor. He was a coward, but a clever coward.

“By the way, Watson, we need to improve your team soon.”

“Oh?”
“You only have a Houndoom and a Scyther. Two admirable pokémon, but you’ll need another one soon, and you’ll need to train your current ones.”

“You speak of pokémon as if they are tools,” said Watson coldly, his eyebrows lowering.

“I know that you have a certain… affinity for them, but as far as we’re concerned, they are. You can treat them how you like outside of battle, but you’ve got to be realistic, mate.” Lew leant back, a vague smile upon his face, mildly amused at Watson’s opinions.

“Ever consider how much power a pokémon could have in battle if a pokémon knew that it was fighting in battle with you, and not for you?”

“Interesting concept, but unproven.” Lew shrugged. “Let’s test your theory. I have pokémon, and I can see them for what they are. Physically, they’re stronger than yours. Let’s see if affection gives yours more power.”

Watson smirked; Lew’s arrogance would be his downfall.

******
“Two on two, then?”

They stood in one of the many underground rebel stadiums. The floor was dirt, with markings for boundaries; a big pokéball-shaped outline to mark the centre. There were a few chairs on the side for spectators, but they were empty.

“Sure. Ira, go!”

“You’ve got no chance: Machoke, show him the meaning of strength!”

The two creatures materialised from their purple balls: a giant, green insect staring down a muscular, light blue, humanlike fighter.

“Ira, Double Team! Surround him!”

Two illusory copies rapidly propelled themselves from Scyther, and the trio surrounded the machoke in an attempt to confuse it in a whir of emerald.

“Foresight! Submission!”

Machoke’s eyes glowed the seven colours of the rainbow, and it immediately grabbed the real Scyther, causing the copies to disappear. Ira struggled, but the machoke’s strength was irresistible, and it dived the poor bug powerfully into the ground, causing the wind to get knocked out of her.

“Do it again, machoke!”

“Ira, agility!”

The machoke tried to lift Scyther off the ground again, but Ira responded by shaking every part of her body with incredible speed, causing friction burns. Machoke released her, grunting in pain, and she darted rapidly into the air, turned, and dove at Machoke with incredible speed.

“Vital throw!”

The Machoke went to grab the incoming green bullet, but Ira reacted quickly, as she dove under machoke’s outstretched arms, and struck him under the chin with surprising power, causing him to stumble and fall.

“Dive again!”

“Revenge!”

Ira darted upwards and downwards, swooping for the kill. Machoke tensed and grunted, a seemingly supernatural rage filling every muscle in his face, preparing itself to grab the charging insect.

Was Machoke fast enough?

Machoke launched its entire body into the descending scyther, who moved to the left.

Too slowly.

Ira was flung across the stadium and landed with a painful thud against the opposite wall. No movement.

“Friendship didn’t help you there, Watson.”

“Getting cocky, Llewellyn?” Gary had entered the room, and was sitting down on the metal chair. He wore a black suit: expensive, like the higher-level Suits would wear. “Don’t underestimate him just because he’s new.”

“Nah, boss, just seeing how effective his strategy is,” said Lew, raising his palms.

Gary raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t think you have an unfair advantage?”

“He should at least be able to hold his own, if his philosophy is as effective as he hypothesises.”

Watson respected Lew for his strength, his perceptiveness, and even admired his arrogance. There was just something that irritated him though. The fact that Lew could not share Watson’s admiration for pokémon. Watson often held harmless pokémon from his cynical views of reality; maybe it was time to be more inclusive?

“Amicus, destroy him.”

The houndoom barked as it materialised from the red light, its horns lowered, prepared for battle.

“Seismic Toss!”

“Smokescreen!”

The machoke launched forward, but was now gripped in Amicus’s smoke. Where was he?
“Foresight, Machoke!”

“Thunder Fang!”

Machoke’s eyes glowed, and it began to see through the smoke. But not fast enough. Amicus, his fangs bright with flickering electricity, launched himself into the back of Machoke. Sparks flew and Machoke squirmed, unable to release itself from the powerful jaw of houndoom.

“Hold on, Amicus!”

Determination seared in Amicus’s eyes. It was not going to let go. It was not going to falter. No matter how much his prey squirmed, there would be no relent. No mercy. Machoke squirmed in pain as the electricity ran through his body, paralysing and weakening him.
And fell.

Amicus stood triumphant, proudly towering over the defeated machoke. Lew grimaced as he opened his master ball to return his machoke. On the side, Gary crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, fascinated that a newcomer’s pokémon could defeat a veteran’s.

“I’ve got to admit, Watson, that houndoom of yours is pretty tough. But, not tough enough. Go, probopass!”

A giant pokémon with an abnormally large red nose and metallic skin emerged. At the top of its head was a thick crimson disc, and beneath its nose, a bushy moustache.

“Probopass, Magnet Bomb!”

“Dodge it, Amicus!”

Probopass opened its mouth and released a large sphere of silver light, which rapidly headed for Amicus. Amicus admirably dodged to the side, and the ball went into the distance.

And curved around.

It now approached Amicus from behind with increasing speed, ready to strike him down. Amicus darted away, but was too slow. The ball of energy struck Amicus to the ground, causing him to slide painfully across the floor to be in front of Probopass.

“Flamethrower!”

“Discharge!”

A burst of spectacular fire released itself from Amicus’s mouth, and Probopass released an incredible explosion of yellow energy. Both strikes hit the other at point-blank range; Amicus was thrown across the room; Probopass was pushed back, and had char marks across its body.

Amicus rose. And fell. He struggled on the ground, weakened by the electricity of Probopass.

“Finish him off. Magnet Bomb!”

Probopass released another sphere of energy from its mouth, which rapidly locked on to Amicus, and pushed him yet further across the room. He was badly injured and paralysed now.

But, he refused to give up, strain etched in every feature in his face.

“Amicus, you don’t have to keep fighting,” Watson assured, in an almost soft tone.
The houndoom gave a weak, dismissive grunt, and sent a burst of fire through the air towards the enemy probopass. Watson had to admire his pokémon’s strength and determination. The stream of fire faltered halfway to probopass, and Amicus could finally stand no more, and slumped to the ground in exhaustion. He slowly closed his eyes for a well-earned rest.

Watson flashed Amicus a short smile, and withdrew him to his purple ball. Lew looked immensely satisfied. Gary rose.

“Incredible, Watson. Absolutely incredible. You took down a powerful machoke, and your houndoom is certainly quite the determined one. Tomorrow, we’ll see what you can do with a third pokémon.”

“Hey – Gary, I was the one who won! And I was limiting myself to half the pokémon I actually have!”

“True, but you have had two years of experience, Lew. It won’t be long before he will be victorious against you.”

Watson smirked. It seemed he had earned the notice of a very experienced pokémon trainer, Gary, and had nearly toppled someone who had far more experience than he. He realised he was approaching his goal, ever faster now.

True power.
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  #70    
Old November 15th, 2008 (11:25 PM).
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under_score under_score is offline
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Oh, lookie here. I come back online to Pokecommunity and have two posts to read. Just two things...

Quote:
a mirror, which, as he suspected, was two-way
Um, I might be wrong (although I don't think so), but I believe you were aiming for "one-way mirror", not two. A one-way reflects the image on one side, whilst being transparent when seen from the other. If that makes sense.

And two, I must say that I think you've improved on your descriptions, and slowed down. Walter's really starting to become mushy and touchy-feely with his Pokemon now, isn't he? I'm not sure why, but it seemed a little excessive - a little much in too little time.

But, I have to say, I've sorely missed this story. Good ta see ya back.
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  #71    
Old December 30th, 2009 (10:03 PM).
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EricDaRed EricDaRed is offline
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I enjoyed the read, even if I read it QUITE late.

Maybe this 'bump' in the thread list will help. Take care.
  #72    
Old December 31st, 2009 (01:04 AM).
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Astinus Astinus is offline
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Acrutheo hasn't been on the forum in over a year. Even still, you shouldn't bump threads that over a month old.

Thread closed.
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