Thread: Metal Coat;
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Old March 6th, 2009 (1:12 PM). Edited March 8th, 2009 by Giratina ♀.
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Giratina ♀ Giratina ♀ is offline
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    Join Date: Apr 2008
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    [Yoshi's Island level-staring theme]

    Boop boo-da-doo-doo, doo doo da doop!

    Celestial Arcanine, Twelve O'clock!
    (the sixth chapter of the story. wait, what's an Arcanine got to do with any of this...? they're just minor characters, aren't they?)

    As the two red-and-white metal spheres flew through the air, all three pairs of eyes focused on them. Time seemed to slow itself down.

    Nobody actually knew why – it wasn’t anything terribly important, Caro and Kris were just sending out a couple of Golbat – but it still did nonetheless. Possibly because it was such a turning point in the story, them catching their first Pokemon?

    Everyone was silent as the Pokéballs made an indent in the snowy ground with a soft thump. They then began to open and released a red, swirling, luminescent energy into the air, which soon took the form of two Pokemon.

    One was a large blue thing, with a gaping mouth that opened almost as big as it’s body; Small, beady eyes glanced around. Purple bat-like wings with blue edging beat in the air, sending drafts of wind down to the snowy mass below. It let out a piercing screech, which everyone translated to mean, “ wing hurts...”

    The other did not have a giant gaping mouth like the first, but was rather a purple, footless blob with two sets of streamlined wings. The upper set of wings had purple edging and blue membrane inside, instead of the other way around. The lower set was entirely purple. Its mouth was twisted into what seemed to be a deformed frown.

    “What?” It rumbled in a hiss-like whisper.

    Caro blinked. “Wh... Why does she get a Crobat?” He glared over in Kris’ direction, who was now in deep conversation with her newfound friend.

    “Hmph...” He muttered, and turned to his Golbat. “Oh, hey. What’s wrong with your wing? Did I hit it too hard or something?” He stepped up to the large bat Pokémon.

    “Uh, no, my wing’s fine. But...humans can’t understand Pokémon...” The Golbat muttered, staring at the teenager with curiosity.

    “Yeah, well... I’ll let you in on something.” Caro leaned in very close to the Golbat, who was now staring at him. “My name is Caro. I used to be a Raichu and I’m from a different universe, and- Yeow!” Caro looked down to see that Cyrus had stomped down on his foot. “What was that for?” He whined, glaring up at the taller male.

    “I don’t know if it’s such a great idea to go off telling your life’s story to a Golbat, who could very well sneak off in the dead of night while you’re asleep and babble to the whole world, do you?” He asked blankly.

    “Uh... oh yeah... I knew that!” Unfortunately, Caro was not a very good liar.

    “I’m sure you did,” Cyrus replied. “But if you’re finished rattling off to a Golbat, I think now would be as good a time as any to figure out a way to get you two back home. Surely you don’t want to stay here.”

    Golbat shifted his gaze, and jumped with surprise. “Caro, behind you! There’s-“

    “Yeah, Golbat,” Caro said, “I know.”

    “But… but…” the Golbat whimpered, wishing at length that he hadn’t woken up today.

    Cyrus kept his legs in a squatted position, to make flying easier for Honchkrow. All Caro and Kris needed to do was hold on, but a flat disk with wings has a much different method of flight than a large bird does. (Yeah, yeah. I know. A Honchkrow isn’t large, but how would a six-foot-tall man get around flying on a three-foot-tall bird?)

    “You okay up there?” Honchkrow called.

    “Yes,” came his master’s blank response. At least they were at a high enough altitude nobody could see anything but a Honchkrow, a Crobat, and a Golbat having a pleasant flight...

    Glancing back, Cyrus saw that Kris seemed to be holding on to the Crobat’s head, which the ride-ee didn’t seem to mind that much. Caro was having a bit of an easier time, though, as he had the Golbat’s feet to hold on to.

    The two were both talking about what would happen, and what Pokemon would say, when they got home. Since they had been captured, Golbat and Crobat had proven extremely knowledgeable about the history of Sinnoh, real and mythical - so much so, in fact, that Cyrus never needed to step in to explain anything (he was secretly quite relieved for that).

    After explaining at great length what happened and who they really were, and assuring Golbat and Crobat that Cyrus would not, in fact, try to kill them, they worked out a plan: it involved, on the most basic level, going on a whirlwind trip around Sinnoh, trying to get the Lake Trio to remove the wall in Mt. Coronet (it was probably rebuilt after Team Galactic blew it up) by way of Legendary powers, getting in, and begging/pleading to either Giratina or Palkia to get themselves home.

    It wasn’t formal, it wasn’t stylish, it wasn’t the least bit tested, analyzed, or incredibly plausible, but it would probably work.

    How did this...happen? No matter how many times Cyrus had tried to ignore – and eliminate - that thought over the past few days, it just would not die. He knew exactly how it happened, of course.

    After what happened at the Pillar (soon redubbed the Spear Pillar Incident), he had slunk off into a side cavern. The police force didn’t want anyone to know he was still out there, and he wasn’t showing any rebellion, so they kept their mouth shut and he did too. Of course, he couldn’t hide from everyone.

    Or, rather, everything.

    He remembered the scene vividly; it was hard not to. After all, it was only an ancient messenger for the higher powers in the universe sending him an invite to a divine trial up above the Spear Pillar...

    Mt. Coronet had so many useful little passages. It was quite an aid when you were being tailed by a couple of women in blue suits and a ‘detective’ who could not be bothered to do any decent detective work at all, but in fact favored slinking around in costume.

    With every step, Cyrus progressed farther and farther away from his failed... experiment. He couldn’t call it a dream – a dream is the product of hope. And, of course, hope dies after you finally realized it just wouldn’t work… but that was a trivial thing, something that didn’t matter. What really mattered was that he get as far away from the fools back at the Pillar as quickly as possible, and not be caught by any of them.

    He wasn’t caught by the police.

    He was caught by something much, much worse.

    The Arcanine watched with glowing eyes – literally glowing, as they were emitting a white light that just so happened to illuminate a small part of the corridor – as he put one silent paw in front of the other, making sure not to make his presence known to the human he was pursuing. That was, in the Arcanine’s honest opinion, one of the most important parts of the mission – to keep himself a secret until he felt the time was right to reveal himself.

    He glanced down at the paper in his jaws. It was in Unown runes, so he wasn’t sure if his target would even understand what it was trying to say. But the runes these people used were unknown to the Pokemon, so hopefully Unown is one of their understood languages. This target was a smart one, anyway.

    Finally, the target had stopped. This was his chance. Pawstep by pawstep, the glowing-eyed Arcanine quickened its pace, closing the gap. The target didn’t need to think he wasn’t there anymore; that wasn’t important anymore. What was important was that he got his invitation and accepted.

    The large orange-and-cream dog Pokemon soon caught up. He didn’t go unnoticed – as soon as the target noticed something was behind him, he turned around and blasted the Arcanine with a blank but extremely creepy stare. The Pokemon quickly shook this off, and then walked up to his target. Dropping the letter at his feet, the Arcanine walked back a few paces and sat down, waiting for an answer. He tried to ignore the fact that he was overreacting to the whole thing, calling this man ‘target’ and everything, but nobody knew about it. It’s not like this was a story, written out in words or anything…

    “Well,” The target said. “It seems your owner isn’t capable of using proper English. This is all in Unown runes...” He glanced across the letter for a few minutes, and the Arcanine sat there. After waiting for the Pokemon to leave, the target soon realized exactly who this Arcanine was owned by.

    “You Legends certainly do have fast postal service, don’t you?” He put the letter into his pocket, and stared the dog in the eye. “Fine, I’ll do as you want. I hardly have any choice in the matter anyway…”

    Happy that the objective had been completed, the Arcanine blinked. When they opened, the bright white glow in its eyes had disappeared.

    So had the target.

    The startled caw of his Pokemon brought him back into the present.

    “Swellow at twelve o’clock! I repeat! Swellow at twelve o’clock! And... It’s got a rider! Swellow with rider at twelve o’clock...!”

    (In other news, this is my 300th post. Yay?)

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