Perish Song (PG13)

[Kveran]

Perish Song

Somebody please brutalize this. Tear it apart with your bare hands. Pretend it's the Bastille and storm it. That sort of thing. It doesn't feel right and I'm not sure why.

One-shot.

- - -

Disclaimer: Pokemon and all related characters are the property of Tajiri Satoshi.
Timeline: ?Perish Song? takes place in my particular fic-verse. This particular fic fits into the time period of, and is written to follow along with, the Metal generation of games.

Perish Song
Renn Ireigh/Kveran

And so here I stand again. Alone. Always alone, saving the company of the six who have walked beside me these long four years, the six who loyally take hits meant for me, who defend me against the hell of this world.

I suppose it?s fair to say that I?m bitter.

But it?s a bittersweetness that I feel, because this almost-downfall of mine was paved with stones of triumph. My six companions and I- we brought down Team Rocket. Alone. We defeated the Kanto gym leaders. Alone. We defeated the Elite Four. Alone. We triumphed over our lifelong rival, becoming the champions of this world. Alone.

When I look at what we have done together, it?s hard for me to say that I regret having lived. But when I look at where we are, suddenly- too suddenly- it becomes easy.

I won?t blame the Professor. It was not his fault that I am imprisoned here, a short-haired Rapunzel in a windowless tower of rock and water. It was a right that I won: a Champion?s privilege. An honor. By admitting me, the Professor did only what he thought best.

It has taken me years to accept this: that he had only the best in mind for me.

I wonder if they?re worried about me, back in Pallet Town. I wonder if they know where I am. What happened to me. I wonder if they wonder why I haven?t come home- if they?ve given me up for dead.

It might be easier if they have.

Some days I feel that I have given myself up for dead.

Lance warned me, before I came here. He told me of the dangers. I don?t remember whether I was stupid, or arrogant, or careless not to listen to him. Or maybe I did listen to him, and this was just an accident, just meant to be? ?There are terrors and wonders in your future,? Sabrina said when we met in the station, before I left on the Magnet Train for Johto. ?Terrible wonders. Be careful, Red.? Did she know what would happen?

Wonders, yes. I have seen wonders here- have laughed as loyal Blastoise and I swam together, straight up waterfalls. I have watched, rapt, as families of Sneasel bring their young to see the gentle giant Snorlax, who allows kittens to bounce on his immense pillowy stomach. There are wonders all around me, of days when Charizard lights this cavern with the near-natural glow of a Sunny Day and everything around us stops, to look up at our almost-sun. These are the days that Venusaur stands close to Charizard, petals fully unfurled, photosynthesizing as quickly as he can, healing himself of the wilt caused by days spent in darkness. The speed of growth is amazing; I have seen its miracle as the crippled Zubat who lives in the lowest chamber by the sea evolved to Golbat, and evolved again as he stood on the shoulders of his comrades. I wished, then, that I could have spoken to the Professor one more time, and told him about this new phenomenon, this evolution triggered by love and loyalty. But perhaps he knows. Perhaps this is not new. Perhaps I have been here for longer than I thought.

And yes- it is fair to say that there have been terrors here. The Misdreavus who dance around us in the darkness, shrieking their Perish Songs, reducing even steadfast Snorlax and sensible Espeon to shivers. Days of diving under the frigid waters, catching Goldeen, choking down lumps of charcoaled flesh, gagging as I try to forget that what I?m eating had a mind, a personality, a soul. The nights- I suppose they?re nights; I?ve lost all track of time- when Pikachu and I cower together in the back of this prison-chamber as the Pupitar rampage in their bloody evolution ceremony, slashing each other open to allow the Tyranitar inside to emerge. Freshly-evolved Tyranitar are vicious- I have seen them tear each other apart in their lust for a taste of blood- any blood will do.

I know.

I look over at Blastoise now, loyal Blastoise who threw himself in front of a Tyranitar for me. Blastoise who is now crippled, one of his mighty legs nearly severed at the knee. When he walks now, he drags this limb behind him, and when he swims, it is a lopsided limping gait. And Espeon, who stood her ground hissing and Psywaving in vain, Espeon who is missing one ear and her forked tail. And brave Charizard, half-missing one wing. Their wounds, like mine, have healed jaggedly, with scrapes where teeth dug into flesh. There are some things that potions cannot cure.

Pikachu leaps onto my shoulder and I wince, because he has jolted my head and neck sideways and the impact ripped at my scars. His ears lower and flatten, and he nuzzles my cheek with his nose. I lift him off of my shoulder and into my arms, scratching him on the poll of his head, and he relaxes, knowing forgiveness. We have had to learn to talk this way.

We have had to learn so many things, the seven of us, in order to survive here.

Pikachu nuzzles me again, this time rubbing the chilly dampness of his nose against the scar that Tyranitar?s mighty claw left against my throat.
?Piiiii,? my partner murmurs, and I understand him. He is mourning: mourning not only for our imprisonment, but also for me. For the loss of my voice. He is mourning because when he Thunderbolted my heart back into life he could not save all of me. A part of my brain died that night, when the Misdreavus screamed their Perish Song and the Pupitar killed themselves to evolve.

And so we are here, imprisoned in the tallest spire of Mt. Silver. Charizard cannot fly us out on broken wings; Blastoise cannot swim through waterfalls dragging his leg. And I- I cannot walk on water.

Ah- you. You have come again as you have come before, creeping closer every time. It?s all right. Come here, Quagsire, and do not be afraid; do not run from me as you have before. I am broken now. I can?t attack you. Yes, Quagsire, come. This is my story. Will you tell it to your brethren, to tell to theirs? Will you spread the word? Will you tell this tale again and again, until all of your Quagsire brothers know- until all of their Wooper children know- until all of the seas and the caves know? Until some young trainer, eagerly running the routes of this world, partners one of you and is told? Until that trainer tells another, and another, and another, and finally someday, years in the future, someone comes in search of the Kanto Champions to battle us, and defeat us, and send us whited-out in half-death to the Pokemon Center at the foot of this mountain?

Oh, Quagsire- do not tremble. We are alone here. No one will hurt you. Do not flee in fear. Quagsire, will you tell this story that I have told you through hand gestures and pictures in the dirt and the pleading of my eyes, because the Tyranitar from whom you hide have killed the part of my brain responsible for speech? Quagsire, will you tell it?

Quagsire squelches one step closer and hoots softly in my ear, then darts away into his waters. And as the lake of Mt. Silver calms its ripples and the unearthly screeching of the Misdreavus?s Perish Song begins for the night, I turn to the partners who have accompanied me through triumph and despair, to what has seemed like infinity and beyond. I turn to them, and we say our good nights in hootings and burnings and nudges, and retreat to the back of this chamber to sleep a peaceless sleep.

 

[Aiya Quackform]

Overall, your story lacks focus. It took me a good half of the fic to figure out this was a human, not a Pokemon! I then gradually realized that you were referring to Red in Mnt. Silver of GSC. You might try to identify those details earlier in the fic. Now, more specific stuff:

And so here I stand again. Alone. Always alone, saving the company of the six who have walked beside me these long four years, the six who loyally take hits meant for me, who defend me against the hell of this world.
Now that I look back on it, this does imply that the narrator is a human trainer, but my first time through, I didn't realize that. This is an important first clue, though.

I suppose it?s fair to say that I?m bitter.
This is an okay line, but it's blatantly telling instead of showing. A bit of rewording in the next paragraph could replace this.

But it?s a bittersweetness that I feel, because this almost-downfall of mine was paved with stones of triumph. My six companions and I- we brought down Team Rocket. Alone. We defeated the Kanto gym leaders. Alone. We defeated the Elite Four. Alone. We triumphed over our lifelong rival, becoming the champions of this world. Alone.
Now this really narrows down who you're talking about, but you have to remember that many 'original' trainers follow this formula as well, so it doesn't specifically point to Red of GSC. Also, it's a bit overkill. It gets boring, try to cut it down two or three examples.

When I look at what we have done together, it?s hard for me to say that I regret having lived. But when I look at where we are, suddenly- too suddenly- it becomes easy.
The regret of the narrator comes in full-force with this paragraph. Nice work! However, I think that "suddenly" can go and the sentence will flow smoother.

I won?t blame the Professor. It was not his fault that I am imprisoned here, a short-haired Rapunzel in a windowless tower of rock and water. It was a right that I won: a Champion?s privilege. An honor. By admitting me, the Professor did only what he thought best.
This only confused me. Is the narrator a Pokemon given away by a professor? The Rapunzel illustration did give me the idea that the narrator is trapped, I'm still not sure if this is a Pokemon or Trainer. "Champion" could have been referring to a Pokemon used by the League Champ.

It has taken me years to accept this: that he had only the best in mind for me.
Again, this is a good sentence, but it lead me to believe further that the narrator is a Pokemon.

I wonder if they?re worried about me, back in Pallet Town. I wonder if they know where I am. What happened to me. I wonder if they wonder why I haven?t come home- if they?ve given me up for dead.
Pokemon come from Pallet, too, but it's looking like a human again.

It might be easier if they have.

Some days I feel that I have given myself up for dead.
Ooh, these are both really good!

Lance warned me, before I came here. He told me of the dangers. I don?t remember whether I was stupid, or arrogant, or careless not to listen to him. Or maybe I did listen to him, and this was just an accident, just meant to be? ?There are terrors and wonders in your future,? Sabrina said when we met in the station, before I left on the Magnet Train for Johto. ?Terrible wonders. Be careful, Red.? Did she know what would happen?
My first reaction was "Ooh, this is the game character narrating!" I still wasn't sure what had happened to him, though.

Wonders, yes. I have seen wonders here- have laughed as loyal Blastoise and I swam together, straight up waterfalls. I have watched, rapt, as families of Sneasel bring their young to see the gentle giant Snorlax, who allows kittens to bounce on his immense pillowy stomach. There are wonders all around me, of days when Charizard lights this cavern with the near-natural glow of a Sunny Day and everything around us stops, to look up at our almost-sun. These are the days that Venusaur stands close to Charizard, petals fully unfurled, photosynthesizing as quickly as he can, healing himself of the wilt caused by days spent in darkness. The speed of growth is amazing; I have seen its miracle as the crippled Zubat who lives in the lowest chamber by the sea evolved to Golbat, and evolved again as he stood on the shoulders of his comrades. I wished, then, that I could have spoken to the Professor one more time, and told him about this new phenomenon, this evolution triggered by love and loyalty. But perhaps he knows. Perhaps this is not new. Perhaps I have been here for longer than I thought.
This is the paragraph where it started to dawn on me that this is Red of Mnt. Silver. It's a bit long, but it does describe Red's current situation. Maybe you could cut out a few adjectives and maybe a stray sentence here and there.

And yes- it is fair to say that there have been terrors here. The Misdreavus who dance around us in the darkness, shrieking their Perish Songs, reducing even steadfast Snorlax and sensible Espeon to shivers. Days of diving under the frigid waters, catching Goldeen, choking down lumps of charcoaled flesh, gagging as I try to forget that what I?m eating had a mind, a personality, a soul. The nights- I suppose they?re nights; I?ve lost all track of time- when Pikachu and I cower together in the back of this prison-chamber as the Pupitar rampage in their bloody evolution ceremony, slashing each other open to allow the Tyranitar inside to emerge. Freshly-evolved Tyranitar are vicious- I have seen them tear each other apart in their lust for a taste of blood- any blood will do.
Now I knew you were in Mount Silver. The description of its horrors is wonderful! But now you've gone on for two paragraphs with little more than description. Try to limit it to a few precise, highly impactive sentences. Break out that thesaurus!

I know.

I look over at Blastoise now, loyal Blastoise who threw himself in front of a Tyranitar for me. Blastoise who is now crippled, one of his mighty legs nearly severed at the knee. When he walks now, he drags this limb behind him, and when he swims, it is a lopsided limping gait. And Espeon, who stood her ground hissing and Psywaving in vain, Espeon who is missing one ear and her forked tail. And brave Charizard, half-missing one wing. Their wounds, like mine, have healed jaggedly, with scrapes where teeth dug into flesh. There are some things that potions cannot cure.

Pikachu leaps onto my shoulder and I wince, because he has jolted my head and neck sideways and the impact ripped at my scars. His ears lower and flatten, and he nuzzles my cheek with his nose. I lift him off of my shoulder and into my arms, scratching him on the poll of his head, and he relaxes, knowing forgiveness. We have had to learn to talk this way.

We have had to learn so many things, the seven of us, in order to survive here.
Now I was absolutely certain this is Red of Mount Silver. But less description! It's all good, but it's too much. You risk boring your reader.

Pikachu nuzzles me again, this time rubbing the chilly dampness of his nose against the scar that Tyranitar?s mighty claw left against my throat.
?Piiiii,? my partner murmurs, and I understand him. He is mourning: mourning not only for our imprisonment, but also for me. For the loss of my voice. He is mourning because when he Thunderbolted my heart back into life he could not save all of me. A part of my brain died that night, when the Misdreavus screamed their Perish Song and the Pupitar killed themselves to evolve.

And so we are here, imprisoned in the tallest spire of Mt. Silver. Charizard cannot fly us out on broken wings; Blastoise cannot swim through waterfalls dragging his leg. And I- I cannot walk on water.
Why he's trapped is now clear.

Ah- you. You have come again as you have come before, creeping closer every time. It?s all right. Come here, Quagsire, and do not be afraid; do not run from me as you have before. I am broken now. I can?t attack you. Yes, Quagsire, come. This is my story. Will you tell it to your brethren, to tell to theirs? Will you spread the word? Will you tell this tale again and again, until all of your Quagsire brothers know- until all of their Wooper children know- until all of the seas and the caves know? Until some young trainer, eagerly running the routes of this world, partners one of you and is told? Until that trainer tells another, and another, and another, and finally someday, years in the future, someone comes in search of the Kanto Champions to battle us, and defeat us, and send us whited-out in half-death to the Pokemon Center at the foot of this mountain?

Oh, Quagsire- do not tremble. We are alone here. No one will hurt you. Do not flee in fear. Quagsire, will you tell this story that I have told you through hand gestures and pictures in the dirt and the pleading of my eyes, because the Tyranitar from whom you hide have killed the part of my brain responsible for speech? Quagsire, will you tell it?

Quagsire squelches one step closer and hoots softly in my ear, then darts away into his waters. And as the lake of Mt. Silver calms its ripples and the unearthly screeching of the Misdreavus?s Perish Song begins for the night, I turn to the partners who have accompanied me through triumph and despair, to what has seemed like infinity and beyond. I turn to them, and we say our good nights in hootings and burnings and nudges, and retreat to the back of this chamber to sleep a peaceless sleep.
Interesting! Very interesting. His plan for escape is fascinating. It's really an great backstory to Red!

I'd say your overall problem is that you try to say too much. Less is more! Here's a wonderful quote I want you to keep in mind as you revise:

"When you write a story, you're telling yourself the story. When you rewrite, your main job is taking out all the things that are not the story."

Overall, this story's got great potential! It's original, too. I've never seen anything like this!

 

[oni flygon]

It's Red from the manga, more of it... reffering to the friends who are Green and Blue, and Lance and Sabrina, who did tell Red to go to Mt. Silver for the hot springs there. I give you props for making a Pokemon Special fic! It's pretty awesome though I do reccommend sticking with some consistency in some sentences because they seem to wander a bit but not that much...

Overall, a pretty good job! ^_^

 

[Kveran]

-sweatdrops- I actually haven't managed to get my hands on Special for a long time, so I'm glad that everything I put in as accidental actually has some canon backup.

Thanks to both of you, especially Aiya Quackform. That's the kind of stuff I needed. Back to the drawing board! Yay!