Cries from the Other Side [PG-13] (Sign-Ups Open)

[MichaelaTheUchiha]

Miharu sighed, walking out of the lab. She couldn't get much information on Latios and Latias, they had telepathically communicated their names to her, she did get more information about Bishamon. Bishamon was a psychic type pokemon that was able to use Growl and Shadow Sneak, apparently, and could evolve into four different pokemon. She also had managed to get a pokedex that they had traded for in the pokemon world and was now in her hands. Although she still hadn't told her bosses about getting Bishamon, Latios, and Latias, she was afraid that they might get experimented on by the other researchers. Or, at least, be running tests until they drop. Although she was a researcher herself, she knew that if they had ever gotten their hands on a pokemon the others could, quite possibly, be inhumane. Perhaps that was just her paranoia shifting through.

When Miharu walked passed an alley, an arm suddenly reached out and grabbed her shoulder. On instinct, she grabbed the wrist of the hand that grabbed her shoulder, twisted undernearth the arm, bending the arm in an awkward position in which she could break their arm easily, and had placed the pokedex inside one of her many, hidden, pockets. In a second, a gun was in her hands and she pressed it to the man's temple. "What does attacker want?"

The man smirked at the face of the gun. "You have a pokemon that does not belong to you. I am here to get it back."

Miharu blinked. "I do not have my pokemon with me, and in any case I do not believe attacker." She took off the safety. "Give me a reason why I should not blow pokemon stealer's face in right now."

"Because of this," he said simply and Miharu saw, felt, her arm with the gun twitch. It then started to bend slowly at a weird angle and she knew what was going to happen next and braced herself. The next second, her arm broke.

Immediately, she let go of both the man and the gun, managing to bite down the scream of pain that was coming to her lips. The man reached for her gun, but in a flash of light, Bishamon appeared and it caused enough of a distraction that Miharu was able to kick the gun away from the man. Miharu didn't know exactly how he got there, but she was thankful that he was there.

"Bishamon, try to find out what pokemon caused my arm to break and use Shadow Sneak," stated Miharu who tried to get her mind off of the pain. Bishamon nodded, going into the shadows and the man got a knife out of one of his pockets. He then began to jab at Miharu with the knife, who dodged at every turn, trying not to bang her broken arm against anything while trying to put the pain in the back of her mind. It really wasn't working well.

Miharu's mind ran hurridly, trying to think of any moves that wouldn't hurt her arm more. When she couldn't think of any, she resigned herself to more pain and then roundhouse kicked the knife out of the man's hand. When she had contact with the man's hand, the knife flew farther away into the alley and his arm snapped back, causing his whole body to go off balance. Seeing her chance, Miharu executed a perfect double side kick, middle and high, that hit the man's ribs and nose. Miharu could feel ribs cracking and the nose breaking from the power of the kick and smirked. The man stumbled back, holding an arm to his ribs and another to his bleeding nose. Miharu then could hear sounds of a battle from behind her, knowing that Bishamon was probably battling whatever had broken her arm right now. However, she was worried that the sounds of the battle stopped after thirty seconds and winced when she saw Bishamon falling to the ground beside her and a yellow pokemon with two spoons appeared beside it. Seeing this, the man smirked through his hand.

"Alakazam, use Shadow Ball on that stupid Ralts!" he exclaimed, although it sounded more like "Albakabam, b'use Badow Ball b'on bat b'upid Balts!" However, it seemed that Alakazam had gotten the picture and a black orb filled with cracking energy was gathering in between the two spoons. Miharu couldn't help but watch, horrfied, at the power that was coming between two object that she used for every day life. When Alakazam launched the Shadow Ball at Bishamon, Miharu couldn't help but grab Bishamon with her good arm and protected it with her back. She felt the Shadow Ball connecting to her back and this time a scream of pain let through. As she was lifted off her feet and flew inside the alley, Miharu could hear singing in her mind. Before she lost consciousness, she heard a feminine voice inside her mind that sounded oddly like Latias saying one last thing;

"You are going to be fine."

 

[Pancake-fong]

Dahlia frowned as she walked to the alley that this so called "game" was supposed to take place. Bancho was hidden in her backpack, Shaymin was hidden in the hood of her jacket, which was wrapped around her waist. She adjusted the strap on the backpack and her baseball bag.

She wiped sweat from her brow. It was still too hot outside, but she made a "promise" to play this game and she was going play it. But now she was having second guesses about this game. She knew from enough street fights that places that were hidden from view were not a good places to be. This game had to be bad news. But she couldn't back down from it now.

She arrived in the alley and waited for a moment. It was stifling. She found it hard to breath. Dahlia set her backpack down and opened. Bancho burst out, breathing heavily.

"Sorry, friend. But a giant frog isn't the best thing to see walking around a town." She said.

"You won't have to worry about that for long." A man said. Dahlia quickly turned her head, looking at this man.

"Who the hell are you?" She growled. She didn't like his tone.

"You have something that doesn't belong to you. I only wish for it be returned. Immediately."

Dahlia's mind raced. She hadn't stolen anything...in America at least. She reached into her bag, pulling out the first thing that her hand wrapped around. It turned out to be the baseball bat.

"I don't think so. I haven't stolen anything."

"Stole? Dear girl, I'm not accusing you of theft. I can see that a Pokemon has come into your possesion. It doesn't belong to you. Now return it. Or I will be forced to use...well...force. This is the way it must be." He said, giving her a conceited grin. Dahlia grit her teeth. She charged, swinging her bat towards his stomach. She missed, hitting the wall instead. She let out a strangled cry as the impact's shockwave rang through out the bat and down towards her arms.

"Interference is forbidden. You shouldn't believe a traitor's words."

Dahlia gripped the bat hard, willing herself to not drop it. She ran towards him again, this time aiming towards his head. She was stopped by something impacting her stomach, hard. Spittle flew out of her mouth and she fell to the ground, hard. She gasped for breath and attempted to get up. He was slowly walking towards her pokemon. Shaymin jumped out of her hood.

<Magical leaf!> He cried, sending a wave of colorful leaves toward the man and the other creature. Dahlia gritted her teeth and barely found the strength to get up. She ran up towards the man and swung at his stomach, giving a smile as her bat impacted him. Bancho charged at the creature, only to be blocked by Shaymin who sent another wave of colorful leaves the creature, another Pokemon Dahlia assumed.

"Shaymin! Get Bancho out of here. Get somewhere safe!" Dahlia cried, running towards the enemy's Pokemon.

Stars flashed in front of her eyes, she had forgotten the man! He must have hit her from behind! Her eyelids grew heavy as she felt herself falling towards the ground. She saw Bancho and Shaymin running away, waves of colorful leaves flying towards the enemy in their wake.

'Be safe, you two.' She thought before blacking out.

 

[nokyo-chan]

Chapter Three

Fierra paused outside the tiny discount clothing store. A cold breeze blew gently in her face, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She had parked the car in a large public parking lot nearby and walked the rest of the way—in a town this small, there was only one alleyway, so it wasn't too difficult to figure out where the sender had wanted her to go.

She glanced down at the bundle of blankets in her arms, where two well-hidden, beady black eyes stared up at her from a long white face. According to Moltres, this was a Ponyta, and it had hatched from her egg. With a bright smile, Fierra reached into the depths of the blankets to gently scratch the baby Ponyta's nose; any passerby would have thought that she was simply comforting a small child. Not that there were any pedestrians around to see her. The strange weather had prompted most people to stay at home as much as possible.

"It's a horse," Fierra remembered saying to Moltres as she sat on the roof, watching the thing determinedly walk around in circles on wobbly legs. "Shouldn't it be bigger?"

<It is an infant,> the large bird had replied in a tone that suggested that she was the stupidest of idiots. <It will grow. Or she, rather—it is female.>

"It's a girl? Cool!"

Moltres had sighed.

The warmth coming from the blankets radiated into Fierra's chest, but she had to pull her scarf over her mouth and nose to keep them from stinging in the cold. Snow crunching underfoot, she headed towards the small alley.

It was a bit dark, of course, and filthy. A Dumpster sat against the brick wall with some sort of colorful fabric sitting right on top—was it a tent? A parachute? It looked silky. Fierra cocked her head as she considered it. Garbage was gross, sure, but that colorful object was drawing her interest, and she wanted to inspect it more closely. When she as in kindergarten, they had a game that utilized a large, circular, rainbow-striped piece of fabric that the teachers had identified as a "parachute"—perhaps it was something like that. Now she had to see it. She could wash her clothes and take a shower when she got home. Plus, it was right on top, so it couldn't be all that dirty. She took a step toward it and stretched out a hand, shifting the lump of blankets that was Ponyta to fit in her left arm—

"Hey! Are you listening?"

A bit startled, Fierra glanced around to see a tall man in a long black coat. She frowned at him.

"I've been trying to get your attention," he growled. "Obviously you're here for…the game."

"Oh." Fierra glanced longingly at the colorful fabric hanging over the edge of the Dumpster before retracting her arm and focusing on the man. "Yes."

"Well…I think I may have stretched the term game just a little. You see, what I have for you is information."

She blinked.

"You received a letter. And that letter was not meant for you."

"What letter?" she asked, frowning.

"Don't play dumb!" he snapped. "Obviously you got a letter, or you wouldn't have come!"

"My mom checks the mail," she told him.

He stared at her.

She stared back.

"The Pokémon letter," he said finally.

"Oh! That letter!"

"Yes, that letter." The corner of his mouth twisted up into something between a smile and a snarl. "That letter was not meant for you."

Fierra frowned. "I'm pretty sure it was," she replied. "Moltres would have said if he'd made a mistake."

"Moltres—"

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding," she added cheerfully.

"You don't seem to understand. That letter shouldn't have come to you."

"Well, if it was supposed to be for someone else, then that's okay," she replied. "Tell them not to worry—I'll handle it. But I'm sure Moltres would have flown away if I was the wrong person. Well, bye, then!" She waved before turning to walk off.

"Stop! That Pokémon is not yours! There cannot be any interference—none at all! You must not believe the words of a traitor! Hey! Are you listening?"

Fierra wasn't; she had seen something on the other side of the street. Was it a piece of paper? A scrap of material? It was lying in the snow, looking slightly like an abandoned baby bird.

"You're not getting away that easily—Machop!"

There was a roar, and then Fierra felt a sudden pain in the back of her head; Ponyta squealed loudly, and Fierra pitched forward as she blacked out.

 

[MichaelaTheUchiha]

Miharu sat in the news station, glancing at the camera around her. She had gotten paranoid after that little stint in the alleyway, and acted accordingly. She had patched up her broken arm, which was now in a cast, when she had awoken in the hospital. She had decided now it was the time to launch her counterattack, by using the media and getting everyone who had gotten a pokemon together back here, at the lab.

One of the reporters sat down in front of her. The reporter, a personal friend of her late mother, had glanced at the camera and started talking to the people watching.

"Welcome to this morning news. Joining us for this interview is Miharu Mizushima, a competent researcher of the pokemon world with an IQ of over two hundred. She is here to talk about a contest that the lab she works for are having. Would you mind explaining it to us?"

Miharu nodded, smiling slightly. "I would not mind at all. Our contest is whoever can fill in the following letter, will get a plane ticket to the lab over here in Virginia, free of charge. As to where they are staying, all of us have drawn lots and it has been decided that they will stay at my house in the meantime. Anyone who can fill in the words will send their letter to (insert address here) and if they get it correct, a plane ticket will be sent to them free of charge. As for minors, they can get two other tickets for their parents."

The reporter nodded. "And where will we find the letter we are supposed to be filling up?"

Miharu reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "I have already printed out the blank letter."

It read;

I ____ these _____... in ____ that anyone ___ ____ ____ ____. My ____... it is _____. The ____ has _____ ______. The ______ are ____, _____ to this _____ ____ and slipping into the most ____ of ______. My _____ is _____ itself _____. If ___ goes on... ___ ____ ____ will ____. I can not ____ ____ any longer. By the _____ _____ read this I am ____ she will have _____ or ____ me. The ____ who _____ this to you is a ____. In that ____ with ____ is also a _____. Please, with these ____, please ____ to ____ _____ _____. Please... end my ____ life before the ____ raise ____ up to ______.

_____ of _____, Aiko

The reporter was surprised at all of the empty blanks, although she masked it quickly. "How come there are so many blanks? And how would anybody be able to guess?"

Miharu shrugged. "I have no clue, I was not the one who made it. As for the website in which you can find it; it is (insert website here)."

The reporter nodded. "Thank you for this interview, and if I may ask, how did your arm get broken?"

"I was mugged in an alleyway but some guy who wanted something precious to me, saying that it was a mistake that I had gotten it." Miharu shook her head. "Lunatics these days, eh?"

The reporter frowned, but nodded. "Well, I am glad you are alright. This concludes the interview with Miharu Mizushima."

The cameras stopped rolling and Miharu bowed to the reporter. "Thanks." The reporter nodded and smiled. "No problem. You be careful now, don't go into dark alleyways by yourself anymore." Miharu nodded and left the building. When outside, she smirked.

The counterattack has now begun.