Satoshi_Red
Ketchup Devourer
- 59
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Seen Aug 26, 2010
Introduction
This is the tale is of a raticate, born wild in a desert, nameless. This is his story, of how he first took his name, and came to seek out the Other Worlds, which know his kind only as the barbarians, the uncivilized ones, the feral.
"It is also the tale of the stupid idiot who did not listen to his baser parts, and instead of chasing ratta ladies, decided to seek a path of 'enlightenment'. Whatever the sun spitting arboks that means!" - A local rattata who kindly offered his wise and regal opinion on the subject
(rating: Mature and violent, pg-15 probably. Truthfully, as this is not the typical kind of 'fluffy' fic, and is very lengthy and very sarcastic at times though it is not humor oriented, there is no guarantee you'll like it. Obviously Pokemon centric. As a side note, I tend not to capitalize species names unless the actual name or believed name of someone.
This does not start off in 'mystery dungeon' or 'trainer' regions, but may travel to them. Also, pokemon make more sounds than their name, but they are non-human-like vocalizations, if you are wondering. In the original games, zapdos would say 'gyaroo!', so this is canon. I believe it was the anime or manga which originally started the whole 'saying their names' thing in the first place anyway. Other important differences is that there is no Las Vegas, American Hollywood, or team rocket dressed up like Vikings.)
----
Ra'ka'Ti
----
1. The humble waif of the sands
-
A pokeball lay untouched on the sands, rusted by time.
Fearless, yet very much entranced, two dark red orbs shined in the edges with pinpricks of light, staring intently at the rusted mechanical ball before thtem. Metallic rusty scents caused long, fine tan whiskers to twitch in anticipation... and anxiety. While the raticate's mind buzzed with questions, the gut nagged from way down below, demanding, of course--
feed me, you stupid bastard!
Glaring, the yellowish head looked down at the belly that was the source of all wisdom-- at least in rattata culture, anyway. In a heavily primitive manner, the scavengers of the desert held no appreciation for the brain except as a good snack. The lower down the body part, in fact, the more valued it was. The tail was discounted, but, as you might conclude... Most of them were concerned with only one thing.
Making offspring, lots and lots. And for that, a fine, long set of fat whiskers were appreciated, being considered heavily attractive. And from the viewpoint of his peers, this raticate should have been doing just that, anything, of course, but this.
The desert rat's body gave a shudder, balanced on all fours but still almost toppling over in the movement, feelings of apprehension growing stronger. The sky above was a deep blue, but for all his beady nose and eyes were focused on a rusted out piece of metal, it might have been emerald.
Sky and river, please let this work!
The kangaroo-like desert rat nudged the device with his snout. Suddenly the raticate was swathed in purple rays of light, before weightlessness overcame all sensation.
Then there was merely the sands, and the pokeball, alone again for who knew how long.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Several weeks before;
A huge, vicious dark snake rose up before him, fangs glistening with venom. Dark, yellow warning bands wrapped around the scales at regular points, serving a stark warning to all, and if that did not waver one's desire to fight, a rattle shook on the end opposite to those teeth.
"Go, ratta!"
"Yeah, go!"
Onlookers cheered, peering with their pink noses and purple furry bodies from the safety of the dry grass. One of them was a fine, pink lady, gorgeous with velvet soft ears and fur, the highest quality of mouse.
Salivating, his whiskers twitched, dancing with the deadly serpent, merely in hopes of impressing her. The purplish black hunter's fangs struck dirt as he narrowly moved beneath the coils, before squirming upward before they might fatally tighten around him. Swerving, it hissed, yellow slitted eyes focusing on the meager, scrappy morsel that was his body.
The lady mouse yawned, showing off her delicate muzzle and sharp, huge front teeth. She was so impressed! Happily, the scrappy male mouse watched for a few seconds too many, until searing pain distracted him.
Eyes widening in fear he thrashed, turning to see the ekans attempting to swallow him whole, pulling him closer as painful venom coursed through and tried to paralyze his body. Squeaks sounded as the purple male scratched pitifully, as the hollowed fangs inched closer and closer to his face, pink inner mouth shoving his tender body down.
He was going to be eaten alive.
Arms trembling uncontrollably, the mouse tried to struggle, movements beginning to cease entirely as he chomped down on the scales and feebly logged there before closing his eyes.
It was all over. Even if pulling him inward would only rip at the skin more, the predator only had to wait until the crushing weight of its own body stopped his heart or the poison did. As a small consolation, it would be quick compared to the time it would take to suffocate to death, though even now the pokemon felt light headed.
The others watched, unwilling to help, not wanting to help. There was nothing immoral here-- it was simply that he was weak, and unworthy of being saved, when the food supply was short and there were so many other contenders who would benefit from his death now. Life was survival of the fittest here-- having multiple partners, killing contenders and their offspring in order to mate with their beloveds, and even abandoning one's own young in favor of having more quicker and sooner was all common. Thus, even though they would probably try to kill the snake while fat and much more defenseless, at that time it would be too late.
It was only now that he found himself pondering, light headed, half delirious, half dead, why. It was a strange thing to question, when there had never been a philosophical question in the worthless orphan pup's head before, when there was something much more important going on, which was being eaten alive. But he had given up.
Everything was numb. The pink girl, she did not care he was there. Why, why did he fight for her? Why did he try to rescue her when she was perfectly capable of getting help from a hundred other strong males or running away herself? One hesitated to say ungrateful, when the concept of graciousness and politeness was something that had never happened before to he himself, when all he had in reason for rescuing her was an ulterior motive...
Surely there was... something. Something else. Nothing came to mind, nothing he knew of in the entire world seemed worth it. The same old, same old seemed quite boring and dreary now, full of ignorance. If only, like the stories--
His eyes sprang open, to the feeling of sliding down something sticky, and fangs releasing him, only to poke him, pull him away from the blurry light. Apparently, the ekans had mistook him for dead after the complete stopping of his struggles and lowering of his heart rate. Ironically, relaxing in the grip of death might have saved him, slowing the rate of toxin coursing through his veins.
Having been swallowed head first after re-arrangement by the snake for more comfortable dining, he forced himself backwards, digging his sharp claws and teeth down numerous times and buckling as he shoved, careful to remain calm lest a sudden shock send him dizzier than ever. The world spun-- as on the outside the predatory pokemon rolled in discomfort, gagging and trying to squish him internally, and bite him as he came up. A strange tingle running through him, a strength he did not knew he possessed, the rattata broke free, uttering a sharp squeak with his own fangs opened wide, long fearsome gashes running down his bloodied sides.
The sudden light from the outside world was stunning, and he stepped backwards and almost collapsed, but he could hear a strange, excited chattering among his fellows, others rushing around to see what was happening.
"--his fur, look at that. Wow did he just come back out--" Babbling went in and out, and for several terrifying moments, the purple male was completely deaf and nearly blind, stumbling around touch and only by luckily toppling over sideways avoided the next blow as scales breezed by his little paws. Hopping back on his feet, he struck blindly, the entire world incredibly white and fuzzy, but a black shape barely coming into focus an inch away.
"Rah, teh, kah teh..." He began to mutter, preparing for the end. But nothing came, except a brush of fur against his own, then many paws and tails pushing and prodding around past him.
'--poor boy, speaking gibberish now.''
Sky and sun, he swore he heard something slithering to strike after he bit down and let go. But at that point, everything was buzzing, most of all, his joy. He had realized that something else, that reason to live that encompassed more than just eating and sleeping and mating. A rare thing among his people.
"Ka. Ra'ka 'Ti."
A name. An identity, a purpose, like those in the stories.
*
(A/N: I am not quite sure how long that was, because my wordpad wouldn't tell me. But I popped the original first chapter on fanfiction net and it was over 10,000 words, so I decided to chop it up into more managable pieces for when on forums. Hopefully I have not done the opposite of before and gone too small. Consider it a prologue, maybe.)
This is the tale is of a raticate, born wild in a desert, nameless. This is his story, of how he first took his name, and came to seek out the Other Worlds, which know his kind only as the barbarians, the uncivilized ones, the feral.
"It is also the tale of the stupid idiot who did not listen to his baser parts, and instead of chasing ratta ladies, decided to seek a path of 'enlightenment'. Whatever the sun spitting arboks that means!" - A local rattata who kindly offered his wise and regal opinion on the subject
(rating: Mature and violent, pg-15 probably. Truthfully, as this is not the typical kind of 'fluffy' fic, and is very lengthy and very sarcastic at times though it is not humor oriented, there is no guarantee you'll like it. Obviously Pokemon centric. As a side note, I tend not to capitalize species names unless the actual name or believed name of someone.
This does not start off in 'mystery dungeon' or 'trainer' regions, but may travel to them. Also, pokemon make more sounds than their name, but they are non-human-like vocalizations, if you are wondering. In the original games, zapdos would say 'gyaroo!', so this is canon. I believe it was the anime or manga which originally started the whole 'saying their names' thing in the first place anyway. Other important differences is that there is no Las Vegas, American Hollywood, or team rocket dressed up like Vikings.)
----
Ra'ka'Ti
----
1. The humble waif of the sands
-
A pokeball lay untouched on the sands, rusted by time.
Fearless, yet very much entranced, two dark red orbs shined in the edges with pinpricks of light, staring intently at the rusted mechanical ball before thtem. Metallic rusty scents caused long, fine tan whiskers to twitch in anticipation... and anxiety. While the raticate's mind buzzed with questions, the gut nagged from way down below, demanding, of course--
feed me, you stupid bastard!
Glaring, the yellowish head looked down at the belly that was the source of all wisdom-- at least in rattata culture, anyway. In a heavily primitive manner, the scavengers of the desert held no appreciation for the brain except as a good snack. The lower down the body part, in fact, the more valued it was. The tail was discounted, but, as you might conclude... Most of them were concerned with only one thing.
Making offspring, lots and lots. And for that, a fine, long set of fat whiskers were appreciated, being considered heavily attractive. And from the viewpoint of his peers, this raticate should have been doing just that, anything, of course, but this.
The desert rat's body gave a shudder, balanced on all fours but still almost toppling over in the movement, feelings of apprehension growing stronger. The sky above was a deep blue, but for all his beady nose and eyes were focused on a rusted out piece of metal, it might have been emerald.
Sky and river, please let this work!
The kangaroo-like desert rat nudged the device with his snout. Suddenly the raticate was swathed in purple rays of light, before weightlessness overcame all sensation.
Then there was merely the sands, and the pokeball, alone again for who knew how long.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Several weeks before;
A huge, vicious dark snake rose up before him, fangs glistening with venom. Dark, yellow warning bands wrapped around the scales at regular points, serving a stark warning to all, and if that did not waver one's desire to fight, a rattle shook on the end opposite to those teeth.
"Go, ratta!"
"Yeah, go!"
Onlookers cheered, peering with their pink noses and purple furry bodies from the safety of the dry grass. One of them was a fine, pink lady, gorgeous with velvet soft ears and fur, the highest quality of mouse.
Salivating, his whiskers twitched, dancing with the deadly serpent, merely in hopes of impressing her. The purplish black hunter's fangs struck dirt as he narrowly moved beneath the coils, before squirming upward before they might fatally tighten around him. Swerving, it hissed, yellow slitted eyes focusing on the meager, scrappy morsel that was his body.
The lady mouse yawned, showing off her delicate muzzle and sharp, huge front teeth. She was so impressed! Happily, the scrappy male mouse watched for a few seconds too many, until searing pain distracted him.
Eyes widening in fear he thrashed, turning to see the ekans attempting to swallow him whole, pulling him closer as painful venom coursed through and tried to paralyze his body. Squeaks sounded as the purple male scratched pitifully, as the hollowed fangs inched closer and closer to his face, pink inner mouth shoving his tender body down.
He was going to be eaten alive.
Arms trembling uncontrollably, the mouse tried to struggle, movements beginning to cease entirely as he chomped down on the scales and feebly logged there before closing his eyes.
It was all over. Even if pulling him inward would only rip at the skin more, the predator only had to wait until the crushing weight of its own body stopped his heart or the poison did. As a small consolation, it would be quick compared to the time it would take to suffocate to death, though even now the pokemon felt light headed.
The others watched, unwilling to help, not wanting to help. There was nothing immoral here-- it was simply that he was weak, and unworthy of being saved, when the food supply was short and there were so many other contenders who would benefit from his death now. Life was survival of the fittest here-- having multiple partners, killing contenders and their offspring in order to mate with their beloveds, and even abandoning one's own young in favor of having more quicker and sooner was all common. Thus, even though they would probably try to kill the snake while fat and much more defenseless, at that time it would be too late.
It was only now that he found himself pondering, light headed, half delirious, half dead, why. It was a strange thing to question, when there had never been a philosophical question in the worthless orphan pup's head before, when there was something much more important going on, which was being eaten alive. But he had given up.
Everything was numb. The pink girl, she did not care he was there. Why, why did he fight for her? Why did he try to rescue her when she was perfectly capable of getting help from a hundred other strong males or running away herself? One hesitated to say ungrateful, when the concept of graciousness and politeness was something that had never happened before to he himself, when all he had in reason for rescuing her was an ulterior motive...
Surely there was... something. Something else. Nothing came to mind, nothing he knew of in the entire world seemed worth it. The same old, same old seemed quite boring and dreary now, full of ignorance. If only, like the stories--
His eyes sprang open, to the feeling of sliding down something sticky, and fangs releasing him, only to poke him, pull him away from the blurry light. Apparently, the ekans had mistook him for dead after the complete stopping of his struggles and lowering of his heart rate. Ironically, relaxing in the grip of death might have saved him, slowing the rate of toxin coursing through his veins.
Having been swallowed head first after re-arrangement by the snake for more comfortable dining, he forced himself backwards, digging his sharp claws and teeth down numerous times and buckling as he shoved, careful to remain calm lest a sudden shock send him dizzier than ever. The world spun-- as on the outside the predatory pokemon rolled in discomfort, gagging and trying to squish him internally, and bite him as he came up. A strange tingle running through him, a strength he did not knew he possessed, the rattata broke free, uttering a sharp squeak with his own fangs opened wide, long fearsome gashes running down his bloodied sides.
The sudden light from the outside world was stunning, and he stepped backwards and almost collapsed, but he could hear a strange, excited chattering among his fellows, others rushing around to see what was happening.
"--his fur, look at that. Wow did he just come back out--" Babbling went in and out, and for several terrifying moments, the purple male was completely deaf and nearly blind, stumbling around touch and only by luckily toppling over sideways avoided the next blow as scales breezed by his little paws. Hopping back on his feet, he struck blindly, the entire world incredibly white and fuzzy, but a black shape barely coming into focus an inch away.
"Rah, teh, kah teh..." He began to mutter, preparing for the end. But nothing came, except a brush of fur against his own, then many paws and tails pushing and prodding around past him.
'--poor boy, speaking gibberish now.''
Sky and sun, he swore he heard something slithering to strike after he bit down and let go. But at that point, everything was buzzing, most of all, his joy. He had realized that something else, that reason to live that encompassed more than just eating and sleeping and mating. A rare thing among his people.
"Ka. Ra'ka 'Ti."
A name. An identity, a purpose, like those in the stories.
*
(A/N: I am not quite sure how long that was, because my wordpad wouldn't tell me. But I popped the original first chapter on fanfiction net and it was over 10,000 words, so I decided to chop it up into more managable pieces for when on forums. Hopefully I have not done the opposite of before and gone too small. Consider it a prologue, maybe.)
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