Acrutheo
The boundless night~
- 302
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Age 32
- Down south. In a global sense.
- Seen Nov 22, 2008
[agelimit]13 years and up, mainly for violence[/agelimit]
Hello. Quite simply, I've decided to start a fanfic. As I've already shown above, I'm planning this to be about PG15, so, if you're not comfortable with that level of violence, then this may not be the best fic for you. Also, please be brutally honest in your reviews; I'm wide open to suggestions any of you may have. Now, for the dialogue key:
"This is speech by a human"
"<This is speech by a pokémon>"
"[This is telepathic speech, either by humans or pokémon]"
----------------------
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: Loneliness
Chapter Two: Blackmail
Chapter Three: Prey
Chapter Four: Defeat
Chapter Five: Pain
Chapter Six: Hell
Chapter Seven: True Power
Want to receive notification of new chapters via PM? Just PM me and from I'll add you to the mailing list.
----------------------
Prologue
Walter Whittaker was your successful politician: witty, well-dressed, and a conscience small enough to lose down a drain. And this is exactly what happened to Hoenn as a result of his regime, and to this day, the few that know his name daren't speak it in public. He rose to power in a typical election with relative ease: a popular politician, due to him having his name engraved twice on the Hoenn League Champion Cup.
President Whittaker also had close connections with Devon, the largest pokémon technology company in the country, which gave him a considerable deal of public support. And now Whittaker had the opportunity to officially announce the release of arguably the most groundbreaking technology in the history of pokémon.
The master ball.
This purple device had the capability to capture any wild pokémon without fail, although it hadn't quite perfected the capture of the fabled Legendary Pokémon. Devon was not the first to develop such a device – another company named Silph developed the first. However, after Silph was infiltrated and the prototype was nearly stolen by a large crime syndicate, development by Silph was stopped by the Kanto government, and other companies took it upon themselves to develop the first one for release to the public. However, the master ball was invariably unstable, and as such this goal hadn't been met.
Until now.
But Whittaker loathed the idea of Devon releasing a master ball. He saw it as removing all skill from the capture of pokémon, and felt it to be betraying his values as a trainer – as a League Champion! Whittaker was torn between his hermit morals and political killer instinct: does he dare betray the sacred art of capturing pokémon to win the election? Blocking the release of a master ball would have a catastrophic effect: Devon would withdraw support and donations from Whittaker, and then explain to the public why they couldn't receive master balls in Hoenn. And on the floor would lay the cadaver of what was once his political career.
He leant back in his leather chair, straightening his grey hair and fiddling with his bushy moustache, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Devon Representative. His azure eyes widened as his mahogany door crept open. A familiar, young, brunette-haired suit entered the room. The President rose to meet the corporate executive in the middle of the room to shake his hand, a genuine jubilance on the Representative's face, a feigned smile on the President's.
"Take a seat," Whittaker gestured to a comfortable leather sofa at the edge of the lavish, alizarin wallpaper, which matched the President's large suit.
Sitting down together, the representative began to jabber excitedly, "Your Excellency, this will be an excellent opportunity to show the cooperation of government and private enterprise, and will be a brilliant booster to the popularity of both your administration and our corporation. What are your thoughts on the time of the announcement?"
Whittaker kept his cool and showed his palms, speaking his twisted truth with confident fluency. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Nola, but the Testing Department had a computer issue when testing your product and, I'm sorry to say, sent you a report that may or may not represent the accuracy of your product's viability for release."
However, the Representative was intelligent, picking up on words like "issue" and phrases like "may or may not" with the accuracy of a Pidgeot. "With all due respect, Your Excellency, that is the type of speech you use when you want to avoid giving a straight answer," pushed the Representative, his hazel eyes piercing into the President's mind. "Let me ask you a question, what is the reason that you don't want master balls to enter the market?"
The President averted his gaze for a fraction of a second towards his golden, laminated certificates recognising him as a Hoenn Champion. Rookie mistake. The executive's eyes flared with immediate understanding when he turned to examine what had momentarily captured the politician's vision.
"Surely you're not going to let that get in the way?"
The President sighed, annoyed at how perceptive the Representative was. He was uncharacteristically losing his cool, speaking inarticulately, and nervously adjusting his ebony tie and pulling at his collar every few seconds. Soon his nervousness turned to anger; the Representative was being irritatingly logical and increasingly condescending.
Soon, he could think of nothing to say but, "how dare you try to ruin what has been a great tradition for centuries? Catching pokémon is a divine art, and I will not have it ruined by mundane technology! Not if I have anything to say about it, no! If I hear another word about this master ball from you, expect to have some tough regulations hitting you squarely where it hurts!"
Big mistake. The executive left angrily, and Whittaker had just dug his own political grave. Perhaps history would be kind to him? Possibly remember him as the politician who stood up for his values? The Last Catcher, maybe?
The Devon board of directors was furious when it learned of the President's reaction, but didn't want to start a political war. Instead, they resolved to reconcile, but this wasn't enough for the Deputy HBD (Head Ball Developer). He found it outrageous that the President should stand in the way of progress, and, in his anger, released some on the black market.
There were several eager customers, but one stood out by his large budget. His face was always hooded, and his voice cold and sharp. He bought these master balls, and ordered more. The Deputy HBD had no idea where they were going, and any use of them certainly wasn't made public. Not yet, anyway.
Suddenly, the cold-voiced orders stopped. The Deputy HBD guessed why: he'd managed to reverse engineer the device; decipher its inner workings and learn how to make one himself. He was right.
Assassinations followed. Routes, train stations, and airports were seized. Many lost their lives. All at the merciless hands of a group of revolutionaries that called themselves the Seekers, with the power of master balls at their fingertips. The Devon Laboratories were some of the first buildings to be destroyed, so the Seekers had a distinct advantage over everyone else; they could catch any pokémon they desired, while Devon lacked the capability to supply master balls to the general populace.
The Seekers gained support from the fearful who wanted protection, and the skilled who desired power. After two years of vicious struggle, the now-deranged Whittaker was overthrown. As was the Republic itself.
And this marked the beginning of the viciously tyrannical Hoenn Empire.
Hello. Quite simply, I've decided to start a fanfic. As I've already shown above, I'm planning this to be about PG15, so, if you're not comfortable with that level of violence, then this may not be the best fic for you. Also, please be brutally honest in your reviews; I'm wide open to suggestions any of you may have. Now, for the dialogue key:
"This is speech by a human"
"<This is speech by a pokémon>"
"[This is telepathic speech, either by humans or pokémon]"
----------------------
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: Loneliness
Chapter Two: Blackmail
Chapter Three: Prey
Chapter Four: Defeat
Chapter Five: Pain
Chapter Six: Hell
Chapter Seven: True Power
Want to receive notification of new chapters via PM? Just PM me and from I'll add you to the mailing list.
----------------------
Prologue
Walter Whittaker was your successful politician: witty, well-dressed, and a conscience small enough to lose down a drain. And this is exactly what happened to Hoenn as a result of his regime, and to this day, the few that know his name daren't speak it in public. He rose to power in a typical election with relative ease: a popular politician, due to him having his name engraved twice on the Hoenn League Champion Cup.
President Whittaker also had close connections with Devon, the largest pokémon technology company in the country, which gave him a considerable deal of public support. And now Whittaker had the opportunity to officially announce the release of arguably the most groundbreaking technology in the history of pokémon.
The master ball.
This purple device had the capability to capture any wild pokémon without fail, although it hadn't quite perfected the capture of the fabled Legendary Pokémon. Devon was not the first to develop such a device – another company named Silph developed the first. However, after Silph was infiltrated and the prototype was nearly stolen by a large crime syndicate, development by Silph was stopped by the Kanto government, and other companies took it upon themselves to develop the first one for release to the public. However, the master ball was invariably unstable, and as such this goal hadn't been met.
Until now.
But Whittaker loathed the idea of Devon releasing a master ball. He saw it as removing all skill from the capture of pokémon, and felt it to be betraying his values as a trainer – as a League Champion! Whittaker was torn between his hermit morals and political killer instinct: does he dare betray the sacred art of capturing pokémon to win the election? Blocking the release of a master ball would have a catastrophic effect: Devon would withdraw support and donations from Whittaker, and then explain to the public why they couldn't receive master balls in Hoenn. And on the floor would lay the cadaver of what was once his political career.
He leant back in his leather chair, straightening his grey hair and fiddling with his bushy moustache, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Devon Representative. His azure eyes widened as his mahogany door crept open. A familiar, young, brunette-haired suit entered the room. The President rose to meet the corporate executive in the middle of the room to shake his hand, a genuine jubilance on the Representative's face, a feigned smile on the President's.
"Take a seat," Whittaker gestured to a comfortable leather sofa at the edge of the lavish, alizarin wallpaper, which matched the President's large suit.
Sitting down together, the representative began to jabber excitedly, "Your Excellency, this will be an excellent opportunity to show the cooperation of government and private enterprise, and will be a brilliant booster to the popularity of both your administration and our corporation. What are your thoughts on the time of the announcement?"
Whittaker kept his cool and showed his palms, speaking his twisted truth with confident fluency. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Nola, but the Testing Department had a computer issue when testing your product and, I'm sorry to say, sent you a report that may or may not represent the accuracy of your product's viability for release."
However, the Representative was intelligent, picking up on words like "issue" and phrases like "may or may not" with the accuracy of a Pidgeot. "With all due respect, Your Excellency, that is the type of speech you use when you want to avoid giving a straight answer," pushed the Representative, his hazel eyes piercing into the President's mind. "Let me ask you a question, what is the reason that you don't want master balls to enter the market?"
The President averted his gaze for a fraction of a second towards his golden, laminated certificates recognising him as a Hoenn Champion. Rookie mistake. The executive's eyes flared with immediate understanding when he turned to examine what had momentarily captured the politician's vision.
"Surely you're not going to let that get in the way?"
The President sighed, annoyed at how perceptive the Representative was. He was uncharacteristically losing his cool, speaking inarticulately, and nervously adjusting his ebony tie and pulling at his collar every few seconds. Soon his nervousness turned to anger; the Representative was being irritatingly logical and increasingly condescending.
Soon, he could think of nothing to say but, "how dare you try to ruin what has been a great tradition for centuries? Catching pokémon is a divine art, and I will not have it ruined by mundane technology! Not if I have anything to say about it, no! If I hear another word about this master ball from you, expect to have some tough regulations hitting you squarely where it hurts!"
Big mistake. The executive left angrily, and Whittaker had just dug his own political grave. Perhaps history would be kind to him? Possibly remember him as the politician who stood up for his values? The Last Catcher, maybe?
The Devon board of directors was furious when it learned of the President's reaction, but didn't want to start a political war. Instead, they resolved to reconcile, but this wasn't enough for the Deputy HBD (Head Ball Developer). He found it outrageous that the President should stand in the way of progress, and, in his anger, released some on the black market.
There were several eager customers, but one stood out by his large budget. His face was always hooded, and his voice cold and sharp. He bought these master balls, and ordered more. The Deputy HBD had no idea where they were going, and any use of them certainly wasn't made public. Not yet, anyway.
Suddenly, the cold-voiced orders stopped. The Deputy HBD guessed why: he'd managed to reverse engineer the device; decipher its inner workings and learn how to make one himself. He was right.
Assassinations followed. Routes, train stations, and airports were seized. Many lost their lives. All at the merciless hands of a group of revolutionaries that called themselves the Seekers, with the power of master balls at their fingertips. The Devon Laboratories were some of the first buildings to be destroyed, so the Seekers had a distinct advantage over everyone else; they could catch any pokémon they desired, while Devon lacked the capability to supply master balls to the general populace.
The Seekers gained support from the fearful who wanted protection, and the skilled who desired power. After two years of vicious struggle, the now-deranged Whittaker was overthrown. As was the Republic itself.
And this marked the beginning of the viciously tyrannical Hoenn Empire.
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