Shamfrit-The-Scorched
Pokemon Psychologist
- 21
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- North Wales
- Seen Nov 11, 2007
Introduction
Satrapy felt alone, indistinguishable, yet thoroughly alone. Something inside her fragile mind had snapped, broken, perforated from her soul. She was suddenly aware of so many new words, so many new feelings; her simple life of grazing and playing in the sun kissed fields of the Coronet Fields seemed so distant, so childish to her now.
The sun tingles with wildfire across the tall reed like grass, a gentle wind kicks up an atmosphere of melancholy dreams wasted. All the while, meowth, Persian and tauros, to name but a few of her fellow 'pokemon' roamed the vast expanse all around her, as far as the distant sea, and behind her, to the rising might of Mt Coronet itself. She smiles, for she was one of the few pokemon in the world that had been born with an almost human form; a form no-one had seen, ever, for she was alone - alone, so terribly apart.
It had happened, her birth, sixteen years ago. She had no memory of her parents, she only caught a glimpse of a small pink tail, and a gleeful smile, before the sky erupted with blue lightning, a viral sphere which tore the world from her; it was not until what seemed like hours until she came around, her body grown at extraordinary rates into it's fully formed state. The whispers in her head still haunt her now, 'I will come back for you…child of the Mother.'
Now she had greater problems. A new change, a quickening, had split her vision in two. In one eye, she saw only pokemon, shadows of their former selves, bedraggled, torn, bloodied, and in the other, she saw the world as it truly was, humans and pokemon in blissful harmony - or so they thought, and thought alike. Something made her keep both eyes shut. As much as she was able, they remained closed, and she found her world of obsidian as comforting as the egg in which she was nested.
"Mother…" A whisper forms on her lips, and drifts out across the wind tainted plains. She had to learn to control these urges, for making herself apparent to pokemon caused a terrible, terrible curse, a raging, fiery breaking of the soul - she, with the minds of the two greatest psychic beings in all the world, could give something to pokemon that no-one else could…she could give them…speech. The ability to formulate there words, each and every pokemon, could talk - but Satrapy could not control this, she knew too much from her mind's reach, and the pokemon which fell beneath her gaze would vent their entire frustration, every moment of pain, every anguished push, upon their trainers; the bond between the two would sever if weak, or strengthen, with friendly banter, between pokemon whose trainers believed in them and themselves truly.
In her heart, she knew she was special, that she had a purpose - she just wished she did not cause so much hurt…so much fear. She was alone, so utterly, utterly alone…
Satrapy felt alone, indistinguishable, yet thoroughly alone. Something inside her fragile mind had snapped, broken, perforated from her soul. She was suddenly aware of so many new words, so many new feelings; her simple life of grazing and playing in the sun kissed fields of the Coronet Fields seemed so distant, so childish to her now.
The sun tingles with wildfire across the tall reed like grass, a gentle wind kicks up an atmosphere of melancholy dreams wasted. All the while, meowth, Persian and tauros, to name but a few of her fellow 'pokemon' roamed the vast expanse all around her, as far as the distant sea, and behind her, to the rising might of Mt Coronet itself. She smiles, for she was one of the few pokemon in the world that had been born with an almost human form; a form no-one had seen, ever, for she was alone - alone, so terribly apart.
It had happened, her birth, sixteen years ago. She had no memory of her parents, she only caught a glimpse of a small pink tail, and a gleeful smile, before the sky erupted with blue lightning, a viral sphere which tore the world from her; it was not until what seemed like hours until she came around, her body grown at extraordinary rates into it's fully formed state. The whispers in her head still haunt her now, 'I will come back for you…child of the Mother.'
Now she had greater problems. A new change, a quickening, had split her vision in two. In one eye, she saw only pokemon, shadows of their former selves, bedraggled, torn, bloodied, and in the other, she saw the world as it truly was, humans and pokemon in blissful harmony - or so they thought, and thought alike. Something made her keep both eyes shut. As much as she was able, they remained closed, and she found her world of obsidian as comforting as the egg in which she was nested.
"Mother…" A whisper forms on her lips, and drifts out across the wind tainted plains. She had to learn to control these urges, for making herself apparent to pokemon caused a terrible, terrible curse, a raging, fiery breaking of the soul - she, with the minds of the two greatest psychic beings in all the world, could give something to pokemon that no-one else could…she could give them…speech. The ability to formulate there words, each and every pokemon, could talk - but Satrapy could not control this, she knew too much from her mind's reach, and the pokemon which fell beneath her gaze would vent their entire frustration, every moment of pain, every anguished push, upon their trainers; the bond between the two would sever if weak, or strengthen, with friendly banter, between pokemon whose trainers believed in them and themselves truly.
In her heart, she knew she was special, that she had a purpose - she just wished she did not cause so much hurt…so much fear. She was alone, so utterly, utterly alone…