Forums · Million Daggers: Private Eye • Page 3
Chapter 13: Exeggution! <_< gameboy, ruesap...get voting :]
[QUOTE]Gameboy doesn't have Wifi to distribute the hacked poke and I don't think Jth does it. Also, here's some advertisement for my story :x[/QUOTE]
lol I just made up the hackers. Subliminal advertising FTW
[QUOTE]Oooh you make me laugh when I read this story :D[/QUOTE]
haha thanks. rave reviews!
lol I just made up the hackers. Subliminal advertising FTW
[QUOTE]Oooh you make me laugh when I read this story :D[/QUOTE]
haha thanks. rave reviews!
ZOMG UPDATE.
A wins
Cross would probably be the best go-to guy, Million thought, as he got up from his bed. But he’s in Lavender, how the hell am I gonna get there in time?
Million ran up to the bathroom mirror and began brushing his teeth. That’s what he would do. Go to Cross, ask him about hackers and what they did. Good that was the most logical thing to do. But something about it kept bugging him.
He had found a hacker, and yet it hadn’t helped at all.
He began the futile task of flattening the mat of black hair on his head, promptly gave up and pushed a hat down on it instead. He rubbed his forehead and sat down. The radio spoke to him:
”No reports have yet been filed, Mr. Koopa told the press this morning, the gym leader’s whereabouts are still to be determined.”
Million closed the fridge door with a brown bottle of happy juice in his hand. It helped him think in the mornings. He flopped down on his dining table and shook his head. Jth was gone as well? It was a habit of his to pop off to the country every once in a while, but he never had any reason to launch an investigation.
“I hate this city,” Million grumbled as he put on a coat. He stared blankly at the peeling red paint of his door, finished his beer and went on his way.
He stepped into the smoggy Saffron streets. Two large government workers rolled up cigarettes and puffed them in the twilight. A gang of homeless people warmed their hands around a flaming metal cylinder. There were no buses yet. Any respectable taxi service wouldn’t be caught fainted in these miserable parts. For the first time in his life he wished he had bothered to find HM02 Fly.
Iggy’s Jirachi would be an option, but the professionals would be running around with their heads up their arses looking for their gym leader.
A FedEx delivery ban almost ran him over.
“Dammit, buddy!” he yelled, “watch where you’re—
The world on time...
Million Daggers headed straight for his nearest Federal Express delivery service.
“How quick is the quickest express service you have?” Million stood at the counter of the place famed for getting everything anywhere anytime.
“Within a matter of seconds, sir,” said the girl at the counter, “Our Ninjask technology ensures the fastest safest delivery. How large is your package?”
Million ignored the opportunity for a crude joke and instead ran straight into the direction the girl was point, much to her protest. The detective realised that for the past few days he had been doing a lot of running around. He kicked the large swing doors open and entered a colossal warehouse.
“Jazzzzk” [unpronounceable]
The buzzing was horrendous. Worse than Exploud’s noise. There were a bunch of security guards after him and he realised that if he was caught, Fantasty would ensure that he ended up in jail for life... Million dashed towards the closest Ninjask, under a stand that was labelled ’57-F: 3 minute service’.
The bug flew into frenzy as the coated, hat-ted man leapt upon it. It could barely sustain its weight not being used to such heavy loads. The insect tried to shoo the man away, in a fantastic flurry of role reversal.
It was substantially worse for Million. He forgot to ask why the letters were delivered so fast and only now did he become aware of FedEx’s conniving ways. Every time the Ninjask jerked around its Speed Boost kicked into overdrive.
“Jazzzzzzk, Jazzzk” [Fuck off!], it hissed infuriatingly.
Million could feel his brain getting racked into his skull. His body wanted to be in a different place than his internal organs. Tears began streaming from his eyes.
“Oo o-a o fas-er!” he said, as unintelligibly as the Ninjask he was grappling like a crazy bull. He held on for dear life, and kicked Ninjask in the side.
“JAZZK!”
Ninjask’s Speed Boost raised its Speed.
Ninjask’s Speed can’t go any higher!
Off we go, thought Million grimly as Ninjask 57-F disappeared from its stand.
Imagine an old sci-fi movie when a ship goes into light speed. The ship stretched out really far, then it shrinks in on its self. There’s a sound like a ruler being hit on a desk, then the ship vanishes into the galaxies beyond.
This is what happened to Million Daggers except the sound he heard was not a twang. It was more along the lines of:
“WHOOMPH!”
The last ‘[size=18]PH[/size]’ sound being the blood in his ears and the subsequent unconsciousness.
He didn’t remember what happened next though suffice it to say he ended up in a large purple building. Or lavender, whatever tickles your fancy.
Lavender town, was a dark, dull place. And this haunted house job was even darker—and duller. Million saw a trainer with a Pikachu tagging along behind him, the latter’s face being akin to that of an epileptic monkey.
“Excuse me sir,” he asked, “do you by any chance know where the University is?”
“...” said the boy, happily, and ran off to appease some Marowak or other.
“Great help that was,” Million decided, and upon applying the concept of Dagger’s Razor headed towards the most conspicuous building in the hope’s that that was the place he was looking for.
And Dagger’s Razor was usually right. Million walked past the large marble pillars of Lavender U.
“It’s about time!” a voice shouted.
A tall man with brown hair and a greying beard walked up to him. He put on some horn rimmed spectacles because he was smart and such, and that’s what smart people do.
“Excuse me?” Million Daggers said in the hopes of a self excuse.
“You’re from the police right?” said the man.
“Well... yes... no, not really—
“Well it’s about time!”
Million decided not to argue. Perhaps it was indeed about time.
“My name is Slowflake,” said the tall man, “And I am the professor for Greater Tiering and Evolution studies.”
“Mr. Slowflake!” Million said as he realised who he was speaking to, “My friend CrossDragon came to visit you, do you know where he is? About yea high, dark hair, shirt, pants, shoes...”
“There was a man fitting such a description, but he was taken with the rest of them. That’s why I called the police.”
They were in the library by now and Million could see how badly the kidnappers had trashed the place.
“Look at these,” mumbled Slowflake, “this will take forever to get in order.”
“Mr. Slowflake, I have to find my friend.”
“Good, good,” said the professor, “Run along then!”
“But I have to ask you some questions.”
The man paused in piling up his notes. “Drat,” said he, “they always do, even when there’s an emergency. I will answer your questions three, young squire,” he finished quite fittingly considering Million did indeed have three questions.”
A blue screen appeared over Slowflake’s head, with Million’s questions on them. The detective found that by merely concentrating his will power he could highlight the sentence he wanted to speak. ‘Tis indeed a miracle!
He selected the first question.
“What is Arceus?”
Without so much as a look of surprise, Slowflake answered. Million, during this time, could not interrupt nor speak a word.
“Arceus, the creator. The beginning. The ???” said the professor, “Every religion in this country refers to it in its myths and legends at one point or another. Arceus, my dear boy, is God.”
Million was shocked, but no words escaped his lips.
“Yes a Pokemon God. Cults have worshipped him, even today’s major religions are at one point or another related to Arceus’ history. Not much else is known to him besides this. My research leads me to believe that by capturing the Azure Flute, the material conception of Time and Space, one can summon this God unto the mortal plane. How one would go about doing this, no one can say—the power that is greater than even Arceus. In the old dialect N’n’tn’d-o, the ancient Parthenon made no mention of it in any of their books.”
“Did you have any other questions?”
Million had a billion, yes a million did billion have. He wanted to know about Arceus.
“What is Arceus?” he asked, having no other choice which was related.
“Arceus, the creator. The beginning. The ???” repeated the professor, who seemed not to notice nor care “Every religion in this country—
Million changed questions.
“Who came in here?”
“Two men cloaked in black. One had a Houndoom, the other, an Alakazam. I think everyone was a tad freaked out. We all tried to run, but the leader of the two rounded everyone up and told his Alakazam to teleport them to ???. He said his name was Ominous Doom.”
Million’s eye’s bulged. One last question, he thought, and he was free to ask more.
“Why are hackers important?”
“Hackers create Pokemon for everyone. The ethical aspects of this are often debated. Insofar as anyone can guess, any legendary Pokemon that you have battled in your life are faked. From hackers. That’s a testament of your skill.”
“Thanks,” said Million Daggers, “You’ve been a lot of help.”
He had no control over his mouth. The blue screen closed and he found his feet automatically leading him out the door.
“Dammit, damn fucking RPG’s” he said.
He glanced around Lavender.
Where to go next?
A.) Look for Cross and Ominous
B.) Ask Slowflake more questions.
C.) Go after Jth
D.) Blow up the University and its stupid RPG theme.
*theme song*
And now a word from our sponsors:
Ever noticed how the E and X make up the FedEx arrow? Crazy shit, eh?
And that was our sponsors.
Thankyou and goodnight ladies and gentlemen.
A wins
Cross would probably be the best go-to guy, Million thought, as he got up from his bed. But he’s in Lavender, how the hell am I gonna get there in time?
Million ran up to the bathroom mirror and began brushing his teeth. That’s what he would do. Go to Cross, ask him about hackers and what they did. Good that was the most logical thing to do. But something about it kept bugging him.
He had found a hacker, and yet it hadn’t helped at all.
He began the futile task of flattening the mat of black hair on his head, promptly gave up and pushed a hat down on it instead. He rubbed his forehead and sat down. The radio spoke to him:
”No reports have yet been filed, Mr. Koopa told the press this morning, the gym leader’s whereabouts are still to be determined.”
Million closed the fridge door with a brown bottle of happy juice in his hand. It helped him think in the mornings. He flopped down on his dining table and shook his head. Jth was gone as well? It was a habit of his to pop off to the country every once in a while, but he never had any reason to launch an investigation.
“I hate this city,” Million grumbled as he put on a coat. He stared blankly at the peeling red paint of his door, finished his beer and went on his way.
He stepped into the smoggy Saffron streets. Two large government workers rolled up cigarettes and puffed them in the twilight. A gang of homeless people warmed their hands around a flaming metal cylinder. There were no buses yet. Any respectable taxi service wouldn’t be caught fainted in these miserable parts. For the first time in his life he wished he had bothered to find HM02 Fly.
Iggy’s Jirachi would be an option, but the professionals would be running around with their heads up their arses looking for their gym leader.
A FedEx delivery ban almost ran him over.
“Dammit, buddy!” he yelled, “watch where you’re—
The world on time...
Million Daggers headed straight for his nearest Federal Express delivery service.
“How quick is the quickest express service you have?” Million stood at the counter of the place famed for getting everything anywhere anytime.
“Within a matter of seconds, sir,” said the girl at the counter, “Our Ninjask technology ensures the fastest safest delivery. How large is your package?”
Million ignored the opportunity for a crude joke and instead ran straight into the direction the girl was point, much to her protest. The detective realised that for the past few days he had been doing a lot of running around. He kicked the large swing doors open and entered a colossal warehouse.
“Jazzzzk” [unpronounceable]
The buzzing was horrendous. Worse than Exploud’s noise. There were a bunch of security guards after him and he realised that if he was caught, Fantasty would ensure that he ended up in jail for life... Million dashed towards the closest Ninjask, under a stand that was labelled ’57-F: 3 minute service’.
The bug flew into frenzy as the coated, hat-ted man leapt upon it. It could barely sustain its weight not being used to such heavy loads. The insect tried to shoo the man away, in a fantastic flurry of role reversal.
It was substantially worse for Million. He forgot to ask why the letters were delivered so fast and only now did he become aware of FedEx’s conniving ways. Every time the Ninjask jerked around its Speed Boost kicked into overdrive.
“Jazzzzzzk, Jazzzk” [Fuck off!], it hissed infuriatingly.
Million could feel his brain getting racked into his skull. His body wanted to be in a different place than his internal organs. Tears began streaming from his eyes.
“Oo o-a o fas-er!” he said, as unintelligibly as the Ninjask he was grappling like a crazy bull. He held on for dear life, and kicked Ninjask in the side.
“JAZZK!”
Ninjask’s Speed Boost raised its Speed.
Ninjask’s Speed can’t go any higher!
Off we go, thought Million grimly as Ninjask 57-F disappeared from its stand.
Imagine an old sci-fi movie when a ship goes into light speed. The ship stretched out really far, then it shrinks in on its self. There’s a sound like a ruler being hit on a desk, then the ship vanishes into the galaxies beyond.
This is what happened to Million Daggers except the sound he heard was not a twang. It was more along the lines of:
“WHOOMPH!”
The last ‘[size=18]PH[/size]’ sound being the blood in his ears and the subsequent unconsciousness.
He didn’t remember what happened next though suffice it to say he ended up in a large purple building. Or lavender, whatever tickles your fancy.
Lavender town, was a dark, dull place. And this haunted house job was even darker—and duller. Million saw a trainer with a Pikachu tagging along behind him, the latter’s face being akin to that of an epileptic monkey.
“Excuse me sir,” he asked, “do you by any chance know where the University is?”
“...” said the boy, happily, and ran off to appease some Marowak or other.
“Great help that was,” Million decided, and upon applying the concept of Dagger’s Razor headed towards the most conspicuous building in the hope’s that that was the place he was looking for.
And Dagger’s Razor was usually right. Million walked past the large marble pillars of Lavender U.
“It’s about time!” a voice shouted.
A tall man with brown hair and a greying beard walked up to him. He put on some horn rimmed spectacles because he was smart and such, and that’s what smart people do.
“Excuse me?” Million Daggers said in the hopes of a self excuse.
“You’re from the police right?” said the man.
“Well... yes... no, not really—
“Well it’s about time!”
Million decided not to argue. Perhaps it was indeed about time.
“My name is Slowflake,” said the tall man, “And I am the professor for Greater Tiering and Evolution studies.”
“Mr. Slowflake!” Million said as he realised who he was speaking to, “My friend CrossDragon came to visit you, do you know where he is? About yea high, dark hair, shirt, pants, shoes...”
“There was a man fitting such a description, but he was taken with the rest of them. That’s why I called the police.”
They were in the library by now and Million could see how badly the kidnappers had trashed the place.
“Look at these,” mumbled Slowflake, “this will take forever to get in order.”
“Mr. Slowflake, I have to find my friend.”
“Good, good,” said the professor, “Run along then!”
“But I have to ask you some questions.”
The man paused in piling up his notes. “Drat,” said he, “they always do, even when there’s an emergency. I will answer your questions three, young squire,” he finished quite fittingly considering Million did indeed have three questions.”
A blue screen appeared over Slowflake’s head, with Million’s questions on them. The detective found that by merely concentrating his will power he could highlight the sentence he wanted to speak. ‘Tis indeed a miracle!
He selected the first question.
“What is Arceus?”
Without so much as a look of surprise, Slowflake answered. Million, during this time, could not interrupt nor speak a word.
“Arceus, the creator. The beginning. The ???” said the professor, “Every religion in this country refers to it in its myths and legends at one point or another. Arceus, my dear boy, is God.”
Million was shocked, but no words escaped his lips.
“Yes a Pokemon God. Cults have worshipped him, even today’s major religions are at one point or another related to Arceus’ history. Not much else is known to him besides this. My research leads me to believe that by capturing the Azure Flute, the material conception of Time and Space, one can summon this God unto the mortal plane. How one would go about doing this, no one can say—the power that is greater than even Arceus. In the old dialect N’n’tn’d-o, the ancient Parthenon made no mention of it in any of their books.”
“Did you have any other questions?”
Million had a billion, yes a million did billion have. He wanted to know about Arceus.
“What is Arceus?” he asked, having no other choice which was related.
“Arceus, the creator. The beginning. The ???” repeated the professor, who seemed not to notice nor care “Every religion in this country—
Million changed questions.
“Who came in here?”
“Two men cloaked in black. One had a Houndoom, the other, an Alakazam. I think everyone was a tad freaked out. We all tried to run, but the leader of the two rounded everyone up and told his Alakazam to teleport them to ???. He said his name was Ominous Doom.”
Million’s eye’s bulged. One last question, he thought, and he was free to ask more.
“Why are hackers important?”
“Hackers create Pokemon for everyone. The ethical aspects of this are often debated. Insofar as anyone can guess, any legendary Pokemon that you have battled in your life are faked. From hackers. That’s a testament of your skill.”
“Thanks,” said Million Daggers, “You’ve been a lot of help.”
He had no control over his mouth. The blue screen closed and he found his feet automatically leading him out the door.
“Dammit, damn fucking RPG’s” he said.
He glanced around Lavender.
Where to go next?
A.) Look for Cross and Ominous
B.) Ask Slowflake more questions.
C.) Go after Jth
D.) Blow up the University and its stupid RPG theme.
*theme song*
And now a word from our sponsors:
Ever noticed how the E and X make up the FedEx arrow? Crazy shit, eh?
And that was our sponsors.
Thankyou and goodnight ladies and gentlemen.
Update time, wahoo!
Million glanced back around at the University. How he would’ve loved to blow it up and its stupid RPG theme. But he resisted.
So Ominous Doom was still alive? He had seen him die in front of his eyes! And Arceus was... God?
Well, whatever it is, he still had to find Cross.
Wherever he is, Million Daggers thought,he needed a drink
The Leaky Pelipper, was a small shack near the docks. It was an old pub; it smelt funny in most places and creaked during the slightest breeze. It wasn’t so much as rustic, as it was rusty.
Million looked the place up and down.
It’ll do, he thought.
“But you don’t undershtand! Wiv our technology-ology we can revolutionise the Po-kay-mon worrrld!”
The detective stared, with squinted eyes, into the musty darkness. He tried to pinpoint the voice.
“We can change everything!!” slurred the voice, fretfully.
“Alright Proffesor Ruesap, we all heard you. Get off the table—
”But the fossilss!”
Million walked towards the man dancing on the table, who with dollar bills conspicuously and somewhat embarrassingly stuffed in his belt, was apparently named, Ruesap.
The gentleman—dressed in a pin stripe shirt and tweed jacket—fell off the bar counter and collapsed in a mumbling heap onto the, not so pristine, floorboards.
“Fossils!” the body wailed weakly and became prone. “For all anc...ient Poke—,” Ruesap began to snore peacefully.
Million wondered whether there really was an Arceus and secretly thanked him. Maybe he could get some more answers from another man of learning.
“Ampharos, wake up our friend, here!”
“Phroo!” shouted the light house monster popping out of its ball. It let out several thousand volts of blue and white electricity towards the inebriated professor.
“Ancient Pokemon!” The man jerked awake. “Wha—, who?”
Million held out a hand, “Professor Ruesap, Million Daggers pleased to meet you.”
The professor fixed his collar. He did not seem too pleased at having been awoken by electricity. Nor did he seem pleased to meet this rather scraggly looking individual, wearing a stupid hat.
“Care for a drink?” asked the detective. Mr. Ruesap’s demeanour brightened instantly.
“Shall we go outside?”
Sipping from beer mugs and sitting on the pier, Million popped the question:
“What did you mean about Ancient Pokemon?”
The professor, hardly sober, gladly obliged an answer. “The fossils,” he responded, cryptically, “Omastar, Kabutops, Cradily, Anorith, Rampardos,” a pause, “and the other one,” he finished vaguely. He gestured two horns atop his head, and began bouncing around.
“The bull thingy...” he said. “The pint—point. The point is,” said Ruesap, struggling to find a point, “The point is Aipom. And that common man des...deseg...descended from Aipom—”
Clearly not achieving results, Million decided to approach from a different direction. “What can you tell me about Arceus cults?”
“Well, I can’t tell you much, at all.”
The detective sighed, and drained his mug.
“But I can show you.”
* * *
As soon as he had put his mind to something, Ruesap’s mood changed exponentially. The mountain air, it seemed, did him a world of good.
The peak of Rock Tunnel was where they had to go, apparently. Million learned that Professor Ruesap was here at Lavender to teach students about fossils but no one believed him, and they chased him out of the university with pitchforks, or the academic equivalent thereof. Ruesap studied fossils from Pewter Museum, but he was currently employed to restore them at Cinnabar Laboratories under the tutelage of the great Ancient Pokemon expert, Herr Paranoia, currently indisposed in the Kanto region.
And yes, Ruesap confirmed, he was German.
The drunken scholar nimbly dodged cliffs and pitfalls much to Million’s surprise. Not a half hour ago was it when this fellow had been dead weight. There was a pure and unadulterated passion in this man’s eyes.
“Where’re we going again?”
“Ancient Temple,” puffed Ruesap, far ahead, “Top of Rock Tunnel. Try to keep up, Mr. Daggers.”
Snow began to fall. Million was thirsty he stared longingly back at the Leaky Pelipper. Lavender could no longer be seen from this high up. They trudged through the snow. Million’s breath crystallised in front of him as he moved forward. And Ruesap was gone.
“RUE?!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, “PROFESSOR?”
Shit, he thought. No one could hear him up here. He ran into a cave and blew on his fingers which were slowly turning purple. It was getting colder.
There was a rumbling sound. Million looked, panicked. I’m safe here, he thought, Ruesap will notice I’m gone and come back. The ground shook, and Million gnawed at his nails.
Shit shit shit shit. If there was one thing that the Saffron street-smart detective hated it was nature. Before a third rumbling sound occurred, Million could not take it anymore.
He ran straight into the pine forest. Why the hell does there have to be sn—
“SNOW!”
An Abomasnow tore out of the cave and leapt after Million.
“ABOMA!!” [Pleasant day isn’t it?] the yeti roared viciously.
Fumbling in his hands, Million sent out Exploud.
“Exploud OVERHEAT!” he yelled.
“PLOUD!”
But it missed
“Argh hax!”. The Abomasnow sniffed the air, cringing at the heat. It lunged forward.
Million and Exploud ran straight into the pine forest.
Behind them, Abomasnow flew into a rampage. It ripped trees out of the ground and shot deadly Ice-Beams at the fleeing duo. After what seemed like hours they found a log cabin, which can be found anywhere in any pine forest if one looks hard enough. (The author has never been to a pine forest in his life, his given statistics, pertaining to the appearance rate of log cabins are purely fictional, and thus cannot be assumed as accurate. Many apologies to all Pine Forest Dwellers and Lumberjack in the audience.)
“SNOW!” [I’ll grind your bones to make my bread]
Inside the cabin there sat a bored looking man with a mug of what seemed to be hot cocoa. He sat, cross legged in front of a roaring fire, and yet wore a thick wool scarf and a giant fluffy beanie. He turned around as Million and Exploud, burst in.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man asked, shivering as a gust of wind blew snow in.
Million returned Exploud, and began to explain himself: “Aboma...chasing... cold... cold...”
“Wait, wait,” said the man, “You’re speaking in ellipsis, I can’t get a word you’re---
“There’s an Abomasnow outside,” panted Million, “Chasing us. It’s coming—
“Well the more the merrier,” said the man, apparently not understanding, “My name is Blitz, and I am an ANF ranger around here. And yes you’re too right—down here, it’s too fricken cold.”
“Mr. Blitz, I don’t think you under—”
Once again Million was interrupted, this time by Blitz pointing his finger outside.
“My Pokemon will take care of us.”
Million wiped the fog off the window and stared. In the snow sat a little Buneary building a snowman.
“With all due respect, Blitz, I don’t think—”
And for the third and final time in that little encounter Million was interrupted. This time by an Ursaring leaping from the roof top and pouncing upon the Buneary. With a lack of basic etiquette in frenziedly devoured the forest critter. It turned around and glared menacingly at Million who jerked backwards. Around the huge bear’s bloody neck was a glowing red sphere.
“Keeps ‘im warm,” Blitz said happily.
“SNOW!” [Let me in!]
The angry grass yeti, outraged at having been left out of the literary proceedings crashed its fists into the wall. The blizzard grew stronger. Then it began to fade.
“Watch this,” said Blitz, grinning manically.
The Ursaring left it meal on the ground and stood up on its hind legs. It roared at the Abomasnow.
“URSA!” [GRAH!]
The ranger began to mime punches in the dimly lit, log cabin. “Bam bam, Ursaring. Façade!”
As if reading his mind, the great beast flexed its mighty muscles inside its fur. It pounded at the yellow circle on its belly and charged. It bared its claws and fangs at its opponent, then it charged.
“URSARING!” it snarled, a blood thirsty gleam flashing across its glowing eyes. Without warning it ripped at the helpless Abomansow drawing a massive amount of blood.
Million watched dumbfounded. “Aren’t you, uh, meant to preserve these Pokemon?”
Blitz gave a downcast sigh. “I suppose,” he said and walked outside.
“Ursaring return!”
Abomasnow gave a final whimper and fled back to its cave.
“They’ve gotta learn to toughen up,” said Blitz as he walked back inside. He rubbed his palms together, “Sometimes I wish I had a bloody Burn Orb. I hate this place.”
“Then why’d you work here?”
“Well,” began Blitz, a look of nostalgia on his face, “After the collapse of the ANF guard, all of our guys went their separate ways. I had been a ranger before so why not try it again?” He threw a log at the fire, which swallowed it greedily, “I never asked for bloody snow.”
“Well Mr. Blitz,” said Million gathering his composure, “Perhaps you could give me a hand.”
He tweaked his hat.
“Whatever you want to get me some action.”
“I need to find a friend of mine.”
* * *
“It truly is amazing, Mr. Daggers,” said Ruesap reading some indecipherable hieroglyphs, not noticing that his companion had been gone for over an hour. “Read these, inscriptions!”
He answered himself: “They speak of the cult that you—”
“Heya Ruesap!”
“—the cult that you so wanted to see. Ah, there you are,” he finished as if nothing at all had happened. Million, covered in bruises and almost freezing to death walked over.
“Ah the old snow temple!” said Blitz, “Haven’t been here in ages!”
“Who’s this fellow?” asked Ruesap, and before Million could answer, scurried off further into the temple.
“Forgive him, he’s drunk,” Million told Blitz apologetically. They wandered after him. As Million walked he noticed the artwork painted masterfully on the walls.
There was a picture of a big machine, it was built be tiny stick figure people with ropes and logs. Atop the machine was a symbol for the sun.
“What’s this one, Rue?” he asked.
The professor ran over. He looked at the green equine figure that the detective had pointed at.
“That, my friend, is Arceus.”
Million touched the painting again. Arceus...
“This whole place was a temple of sacrifice. Old Arceus cults used to take animals, people—”
“Virgins,” said Blitz.
“Quite so,” responded Ruesap, “They sacrificed them to appease their God. Their God, Arceus.”
“Where can we find an Azure flute?”
“An Azure flute?” he whistled, the thought of such an artefact bought him almost to the point of orgasm, “Hard to say, but it’s a common rumour that the warden of the GFaqs prison in Sinnoh selfishly hordes a dozen of the finest treasure from the ancient world...”
“The warden?”
“A man named Ice.”
“So where are we going?” Blitz said, popping into the conversation. “I’m coming with. I’ve had it with this dump.”
“We could go there, to the prison somehow” suggested Ruesap, “or to Cinnabar—to my lab!” He threw a Pokeball into the air.
“Go Aeroy!”
“AERO!” screeched the Old Amber bird.
“We could find more temples,” whispered Blitz to Million, trying not to call Ruesap’s attention. Ruesap, however, was petting his Pokemon lovingly, removing the glowing red band around its neck.
“Okay,” Million announced, after some deliberation, “We’ll go to...”
* * *
“Is Professor Ruesap here?” It was girl in a white lab coat. She walked into the Leaky Pelipper back in Lavender town.
“Um no...” said the barman polishing a piece of glass, “But how else may I help you, miss?”
The girl smiled. “I only need Mr. Ruesap. It’s urgent.”
“I’mm Mr. Rushap!” said a man in the back of the pub.
The girl stared disgustedly at her surroundings but walked on inside towards the man who had called out.
“Hello, there dear,” the man shouted, alcohol streaming from his breath.
The girl wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Ruesap--,” she paused, and looked closer at the man who claimed to be Ruesap. “What are the main Fossil Pokemon?”
The man looked at the girl. All three of her.
“The firsht one,” he garbled, “is like a big dinosaur.”
The girl swiftly turned around. “Please don’t waste my time, old timer,” she said smoothly. She leapt up on the table like a large cat, and scanned the bar.
“Wait!” said the old man, attempting to reclaim his dignity, “Mr—Professor Ruesap... went up to the mountainsh.. wif his friend...”
She paused for a second. Then she got down and walked out the door.
Silhouetted in the afternoon sun, she spoke her final words.
“Adeiu, gentlemen.”
Seconds later, a fierce green explosion, blasted through the Leaky Pelipper—sending the filthy shack and its denizens into its watery grave.
Roserade blew smoke of its glowing arms.
"Good, Rosey. Return."
Rose watched the blast from right outside, and smiled. She glanced up at the mountain ranges.
“Ruesap and Daggers,” she said to no one in particular. “Two little birds.”
She tossed a Pokeball into the air slowly, and caught it again.
“Two with one stone.”
Over to you:
A.) Cinnabar Labs?
B.) Gfaqs Prison?
C.) Moar Temples?
D.) Or character backstories? Rose, Ruesap and Blitz.
Go go go. More votes would be nice.
Vote Ruesap, I put you in the story!
P.S. I put Agent Paranoia in the story as a German, don't ask me why, I've just always thought he was German... <_<
P.P.S. Notice the lack of spelling errors in the last three updates? Thank Microsoft Word Spellcheck for that!
P.P.P.S. Remember:
If you want to be in the story, you have to vote!
Million glanced back around at the University. How he would’ve loved to blow it up and its stupid RPG theme. But he resisted.
So Ominous Doom was still alive? He had seen him die in front of his eyes! And Arceus was... God?
Well, whatever it is, he still had to find Cross.
Wherever he is, Million Daggers thought,he needed a drink
The Leaky Pelipper, was a small shack near the docks. It was an old pub; it smelt funny in most places and creaked during the slightest breeze. It wasn’t so much as rustic, as it was rusty.
Million looked the place up and down.
It’ll do, he thought.
“But you don’t undershtand! Wiv our technology-ology we can revolutionise the Po-kay-mon worrrld!”
The detective stared, with squinted eyes, into the musty darkness. He tried to pinpoint the voice.
“We can change everything!!” slurred the voice, fretfully.
“Alright Proffesor Ruesap, we all heard you. Get off the table—
”But the fossilss!”
Million walked towards the man dancing on the table, who with dollar bills conspicuously and somewhat embarrassingly stuffed in his belt, was apparently named, Ruesap.
The gentleman—dressed in a pin stripe shirt and tweed jacket—fell off the bar counter and collapsed in a mumbling heap onto the, not so pristine, floorboards.
“Fossils!” the body wailed weakly and became prone. “For all anc...ient Poke—,” Ruesap began to snore peacefully.
Million wondered whether there really was an Arceus and secretly thanked him. Maybe he could get some more answers from another man of learning.
“Ampharos, wake up our friend, here!”
“Phroo!” shouted the light house monster popping out of its ball. It let out several thousand volts of blue and white electricity towards the inebriated professor.
“Ancient Pokemon!” The man jerked awake. “Wha—, who?”
Million held out a hand, “Professor Ruesap, Million Daggers pleased to meet you.”
The professor fixed his collar. He did not seem too pleased at having been awoken by electricity. Nor did he seem pleased to meet this rather scraggly looking individual, wearing a stupid hat.
“Care for a drink?” asked the detective. Mr. Ruesap’s demeanour brightened instantly.
“Shall we go outside?”
Sipping from beer mugs and sitting on the pier, Million popped the question:
“What did you mean about Ancient Pokemon?”
The professor, hardly sober, gladly obliged an answer. “The fossils,” he responded, cryptically, “Omastar, Kabutops, Cradily, Anorith, Rampardos,” a pause, “and the other one,” he finished vaguely. He gestured two horns atop his head, and began bouncing around.
“The bull thingy...” he said. “The pint—point. The point is,” said Ruesap, struggling to find a point, “The point is Aipom. And that common man des...deseg...descended from Aipom—”
Clearly not achieving results, Million decided to approach from a different direction. “What can you tell me about Arceus cults?”
“Well, I can’t tell you much, at all.”
The detective sighed, and drained his mug.
“But I can show you.”
* * *
As soon as he had put his mind to something, Ruesap’s mood changed exponentially. The mountain air, it seemed, did him a world of good.
The peak of Rock Tunnel was where they had to go, apparently. Million learned that Professor Ruesap was here at Lavender to teach students about fossils but no one believed him, and they chased him out of the university with pitchforks, or the academic equivalent thereof. Ruesap studied fossils from Pewter Museum, but he was currently employed to restore them at Cinnabar Laboratories under the tutelage of the great Ancient Pokemon expert, Herr Paranoia, currently indisposed in the Kanto region.
And yes, Ruesap confirmed, he was German.
The drunken scholar nimbly dodged cliffs and pitfalls much to Million’s surprise. Not a half hour ago was it when this fellow had been dead weight. There was a pure and unadulterated passion in this man’s eyes.
“Where’re we going again?”
“Ancient Temple,” puffed Ruesap, far ahead, “Top of Rock Tunnel. Try to keep up, Mr. Daggers.”
Snow began to fall. Million was thirsty he stared longingly back at the Leaky Pelipper. Lavender could no longer be seen from this high up. They trudged through the snow. Million’s breath crystallised in front of him as he moved forward. And Ruesap was gone.
“RUE?!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, “PROFESSOR?”
Shit, he thought. No one could hear him up here. He ran into a cave and blew on his fingers which were slowly turning purple. It was getting colder.
There was a rumbling sound. Million looked, panicked. I’m safe here, he thought, Ruesap will notice I’m gone and come back. The ground shook, and Million gnawed at his nails.
Shit shit shit shit. If there was one thing that the Saffron street-smart detective hated it was nature. Before a third rumbling sound occurred, Million could not take it anymore.
He ran straight into the pine forest. Why the hell does there have to be sn—
“SNOW!”
An Abomasnow tore out of the cave and leapt after Million.
“ABOMA!!” [Pleasant day isn’t it?] the yeti roared viciously.
Fumbling in his hands, Million sent out Exploud.
“Exploud OVERHEAT!” he yelled.
“PLOUD!”
But it missed
“Argh hax!”. The Abomasnow sniffed the air, cringing at the heat. It lunged forward.
Million and Exploud ran straight into the pine forest.
Behind them, Abomasnow flew into a rampage. It ripped trees out of the ground and shot deadly Ice-Beams at the fleeing duo. After what seemed like hours they found a log cabin, which can be found anywhere in any pine forest if one looks hard enough. (The author has never been to a pine forest in his life, his given statistics, pertaining to the appearance rate of log cabins are purely fictional, and thus cannot be assumed as accurate. Many apologies to all Pine Forest Dwellers and Lumberjack in the audience.)
“SNOW!” [I’ll grind your bones to make my bread]
Inside the cabin there sat a bored looking man with a mug of what seemed to be hot cocoa. He sat, cross legged in front of a roaring fire, and yet wore a thick wool scarf and a giant fluffy beanie. He turned around as Million and Exploud, burst in.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the man asked, shivering as a gust of wind blew snow in.
Million returned Exploud, and began to explain himself: “Aboma...chasing... cold... cold...”
“Wait, wait,” said the man, “You’re speaking in ellipsis, I can’t get a word you’re---
“There’s an Abomasnow outside,” panted Million, “Chasing us. It’s coming—
“Well the more the merrier,” said the man, apparently not understanding, “My name is Blitz, and I am an ANF ranger around here. And yes you’re too right—down here, it’s too fricken cold.”
“Mr. Blitz, I don’t think you under—”
Once again Million was interrupted, this time by Blitz pointing his finger outside.
“My Pokemon will take care of us.”
Million wiped the fog off the window and stared. In the snow sat a little Buneary building a snowman.
“With all due respect, Blitz, I don’t think—”
And for the third and final time in that little encounter Million was interrupted. This time by an Ursaring leaping from the roof top and pouncing upon the Buneary. With a lack of basic etiquette in frenziedly devoured the forest critter. It turned around and glared menacingly at Million who jerked backwards. Around the huge bear’s bloody neck was a glowing red sphere.
“Keeps ‘im warm,” Blitz said happily.
“SNOW!” [Let me in!]
The angry grass yeti, outraged at having been left out of the literary proceedings crashed its fists into the wall. The blizzard grew stronger. Then it began to fade.
“Watch this,” said Blitz, grinning manically.
The Ursaring left it meal on the ground and stood up on its hind legs. It roared at the Abomasnow.
“URSA!” [GRAH!]
The ranger began to mime punches in the dimly lit, log cabin. “Bam bam, Ursaring. Façade!”
As if reading his mind, the great beast flexed its mighty muscles inside its fur. It pounded at the yellow circle on its belly and charged. It bared its claws and fangs at its opponent, then it charged.
“URSARING!” it snarled, a blood thirsty gleam flashing across its glowing eyes. Without warning it ripped at the helpless Abomansow drawing a massive amount of blood.
Million watched dumbfounded. “Aren’t you, uh, meant to preserve these Pokemon?”
Blitz gave a downcast sigh. “I suppose,” he said and walked outside.
“Ursaring return!”
Abomasnow gave a final whimper and fled back to its cave.
“They’ve gotta learn to toughen up,” said Blitz as he walked back inside. He rubbed his palms together, “Sometimes I wish I had a bloody Burn Orb. I hate this place.”
“Then why’d you work here?”
“Well,” began Blitz, a look of nostalgia on his face, “After the collapse of the ANF guard, all of our guys went their separate ways. I had been a ranger before so why not try it again?” He threw a log at the fire, which swallowed it greedily, “I never asked for bloody snow.”
“Well Mr. Blitz,” said Million gathering his composure, “Perhaps you could give me a hand.”
He tweaked his hat.
“Whatever you want to get me some action.”
“I need to find a friend of mine.”
* * *
“It truly is amazing, Mr. Daggers,” said Ruesap reading some indecipherable hieroglyphs, not noticing that his companion had been gone for over an hour. “Read these, inscriptions!”
He answered himself: “They speak of the cult that you—”
“Heya Ruesap!”
“—the cult that you so wanted to see. Ah, there you are,” he finished as if nothing at all had happened. Million, covered in bruises and almost freezing to death walked over.
“Ah the old snow temple!” said Blitz, “Haven’t been here in ages!”
“Who’s this fellow?” asked Ruesap, and before Million could answer, scurried off further into the temple.
“Forgive him, he’s drunk,” Million told Blitz apologetically. They wandered after him. As Million walked he noticed the artwork painted masterfully on the walls.
There was a picture of a big machine, it was built be tiny stick figure people with ropes and logs. Atop the machine was a symbol for the sun.
“What’s this one, Rue?” he asked.
The professor ran over. He looked at the green equine figure that the detective had pointed at.
“That, my friend, is Arceus.”
Million touched the painting again. Arceus...
“This whole place was a temple of sacrifice. Old Arceus cults used to take animals, people—”
“Virgins,” said Blitz.
“Quite so,” responded Ruesap, “They sacrificed them to appease their God. Their God, Arceus.”
“Where can we find an Azure flute?”
“An Azure flute?” he whistled, the thought of such an artefact bought him almost to the point of orgasm, “Hard to say, but it’s a common rumour that the warden of the GFaqs prison in Sinnoh selfishly hordes a dozen of the finest treasure from the ancient world...”
“The warden?”
“A man named Ice.”
“So where are we going?” Blitz said, popping into the conversation. “I’m coming with. I’ve had it with this dump.”
“We could go there, to the prison somehow” suggested Ruesap, “or to Cinnabar—to my lab!” He threw a Pokeball into the air.
“Go Aeroy!”
“AERO!” screeched the Old Amber bird.
“We could find more temples,” whispered Blitz to Million, trying not to call Ruesap’s attention. Ruesap, however, was petting his Pokemon lovingly, removing the glowing red band around its neck.
“Okay,” Million announced, after some deliberation, “We’ll go to...”
* * *
“Is Professor Ruesap here?” It was girl in a white lab coat. She walked into the Leaky Pelipper back in Lavender town.
“Um no...” said the barman polishing a piece of glass, “But how else may I help you, miss?”
The girl smiled. “I only need Mr. Ruesap. It’s urgent.”
“I’mm Mr. Rushap!” said a man in the back of the pub.
The girl stared disgustedly at her surroundings but walked on inside towards the man who had called out.
“Hello, there dear,” the man shouted, alcohol streaming from his breath.
The girl wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Ruesap--,” she paused, and looked closer at the man who claimed to be Ruesap. “What are the main Fossil Pokemon?”
The man looked at the girl. All three of her.
“The firsht one,” he garbled, “is like a big dinosaur.”
The girl swiftly turned around. “Please don’t waste my time, old timer,” she said smoothly. She leapt up on the table like a large cat, and scanned the bar.
“Wait!” said the old man, attempting to reclaim his dignity, “Mr—Professor Ruesap... went up to the mountainsh.. wif his friend...”
She paused for a second. Then she got down and walked out the door.
Silhouetted in the afternoon sun, she spoke her final words.
“Adeiu, gentlemen.”
Seconds later, a fierce green explosion, blasted through the Leaky Pelipper—sending the filthy shack and its denizens into its watery grave.
Roserade blew smoke of its glowing arms.
"Good, Rosey. Return."
Rose watched the blast from right outside, and smiled. She glanced up at the mountain ranges.
“Ruesap and Daggers,” she said to no one in particular. “Two little birds.”
She tossed a Pokeball into the air slowly, and caught it again.
“Two with one stone.”
Over to you:
A.) Cinnabar Labs?
B.) Gfaqs Prison?
C.) Moar Temples?
D.) Or character backstories? Rose, Ruesap and Blitz.
Go go go. More votes would be nice.
Vote Ruesap, I put you in the story!
P.S. I put Agent Paranoia in the story as a German, don't ask me why, I've just always thought he was German... <_<
P.P.S. Notice the lack of spelling errors in the last three updates? Thank Microsoft Word Spellcheck for that!
P.P.P.S. Remember:
If you want to be in the story, you have to vote!
It's MillionDaggers Q & A Time:
[QUOTE USER="Rose" TIME="1207795952"]D. Do my backstory! I have no idea whats going on there. What makes green explosions?[/QUOTE]
Leaf Strom FTW!
[QUOTE USER="CrossDragon" TIME="1207802231"]I thought the update was to look for Cross and Ominious? >_> So much for that eh? I see you took my GFaqs Prison idea as well. >_> Ice is a guard there, not warden.[/QUOTE]
The update was for Cross and Ominous, but he couldn't find them <_<. With a little help from his friends he will now go and find them.
As for your next point, its text crossover. They exist in both places (like the pub :D). As for Ice being a guard, that's certainly a good point Poetic license. <_<
[QUOTE USER="gameboy3333" TIME="1207805084"]See I voted, now bring me back :D
(and yeah, i read everything before you think i just voted to be in) [/QUOTE]
lol, alright.
[QUOTE USER="Rose" TIME="1207832505"]I just noticed I'm wearing a lab coat. Give me normal clothes![/QUOTE]
It's a disguise of some sort. lol
Update to come!
[QUOTE USER="Rose" TIME="1207795952"]D. Do my backstory! I have no idea whats going on there. What makes green explosions?[/QUOTE]
Leaf Strom FTW!
[QUOTE USER="CrossDragon" TIME="1207802231"]I thought the update was to look for Cross and Ominious? >_> So much for that eh? I see you took my GFaqs Prison idea as well. >_> Ice is a guard there, not warden.[/QUOTE]
The update was for Cross and Ominous, but he couldn't find them <_<. With a little help from his friends he will now go and find them.
As for your next point, its text crossover. They exist in both places (like the pub :D). As for Ice being a guard, that's certainly a good point Poetic license. <_<
[QUOTE USER="gameboy3333" TIME="1207805084"]See I voted, now bring me back :D
(and yeah, i read everything before you think i just voted to be in) [/QUOTE]
lol, alright.
[QUOTE USER="Rose" TIME="1207832505"]I just noticed I'm wearing a lab coat. Give me normal clothes![/QUOTE]
It's a disguise of some sort. lol
Update to come!
D wins.
Backstory time! No updates this weekend, but its Saturday morning and I’ve got nothing to do. School holidays FTW!
This is perhaps my biggest update yet so I'm posting it in three parts, as I finish them.
* * *
“Awesome,” the boy exclaimed as his superior placed a silver badge in his palms. He moved it around in his hands, savouring its shine, feeling every nook and cranny of it.
“Congratulations, kiddo,” said Mr. Krew, Head Administrator.
The boy saluted and pinned the badge proudly into his wallet with his identification card.
“Go do us proud.”
Joining the ANF Guard was a huge honour for anyone, but especially for the teenage Blitz. He had dreamt of it since he was a boy, at first he had wanted to serve and protect, but ultimately he had joined for the same reasons everyone else did. The uniform, the chicks and the violence.
“Teddy? Teddiursa?” said his little companion. A faithful friend since he was a little kid afraid of the dark.
“We’re in business, Teddiursa.”
The ANF Company was property of the Libelldra Conglomerate. It was there to regulate and protect their money, their Pokemon, their people. More often than not, ANFers had to start from the bottom and work their way up, they would begin guarding old prisons, at the request of anonymous commissioners, and eventually they would start running around in the big cities of Sinnoh.
“Fame and fortune, Teddiursa,” he whispered softly.
The ANF Guard (Your personal Forretress), Blitz’s branch, was a personal security service. They were the elite, the best of the best, crème de la crème, if you will—and perhaps much more. They were there to protect VIPs, dignitaries and the obscenely rich.
“Magneton.”
“Hello, Blitz.”
Shit, though the newly inducted Guard, Kidlat
Kidlat and his Magneton had swept through the Training Academy with flying colours, setting records and breaking them everywhere they went.
“Whaddaya want, Kidlat?”
“Nothing, friend,” said the boy, in Blitz’s experience, anyone who called you ‘friend’ in that tone, was far from it. “Just wanted to say hi, is all.”
Blitz stared at him as he walked away.
“Oh,” said Kidlat, turning around with a smile, “There is one thing, it looks like I’ll be the one guarding CJayC for the remainder of this year, now that Ice has been promoted. And—”
“No way, punk,” said Blitz grinning, “I’m taking him!”
Kidlat laughed. “I was just about to say, ‘and the new riff-raff that the ANF have inducted just won’t cut it. Come Magneton.”
“Ton, ton”
Argh, Blitz thought, why was she so good at everything?!
“Let’s go Teddiursa,” he said, “they’ll give us our mission in the great Hall in about half an hour.”
“And congratulations to Officer Ice who was been promoted to Warden back at the Gamefaqs Prison, we wish him the best of luck.
But now is the moment you’ve been waiting for, our graduating class will, on this happy day, will be provided with their assignments for the year 2004!”
There was applause. Blitz sat at the edge of his seat. Names were read out, then they reached Kidlat’s.
And, perhaps one of the greatest student’s to come out of the ANF Guard, Officer Kidlat, will be guarding the esteemed... Mr. ChocoboMog!
Kidlat stood up to bow but was immediately shocked by what he had heard.
“There must be some mistake, I was supposed to guard CJayC! I...wha?”
“Sit down, please, Kidlat. It shall be your honour to guard Mr. Mog.”
Kidlat’s mouth opened and closed; flabbergasted.
And Officer Blitz, will for the year 2004, be guarding the head of Gamefaqs himself, Mr. CJayC!”
If Kidlat was surprised, Blitz was gobsmacked. CJayC? he thought, ZOMFG. Calling Teddiursa back into its ball, Officer Blitz, now Head Security at Gamefaqs ran outside cheering.
Later that day, Kidlat had come up to him, holding apologetically in his arms a package.
“A present,” he had said quietly, “Friends?”
Blitz nodded and happily unwrapped the box. It was a large glass orb.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Hold it,” Kidlat had told him.
Reaching inside he grabbed the ball which quickly flared into a whitish-blue, then a deadly orange.
“Shit!” he shouted, dropping the ball to the ground. It began to smoke on the grass. He stared at his fingers which had been badly burnt.
“Later, sucker,” Kidlat said, grimly and stalked off.
Blitz guarded CJayC that year taking part in many happy adventures, especially that time with the Marrill. Yes indeed, Blitz would later reminisce, that time with the Marrill was a barrel of fun. Good times, all round.
Regardless, the popularity of ANF was waning; Libelldra was cutting down funding in all of its divisions due to a short economic slump. In an effort to raise revenue, they were slowly downsizing the members of ANF in the hopes that their rich customers would only pay for the best. One incident two years later, in 2006, however, sealed the Forretress’ miserable fate.
Blitz couldn’t believe it, first CJayC had informed him that he was the best guard he had had after Ice, whom he hoped was enjoying is powerful new status guarding his prison, even going so far as requesting his services for another year. Then his secretary had informed him only a week ago that he would no longer be needed.
He sauntered sadly back into the walls of the ANF only to find them smeared with a sticky red mess.
“What the hell?” he whispered, then louder: “Anyone here?”
There was a rustle. “Oh this is indeed my lucky day.”
Blitz’s worst fears were realised, “Kidlat?”
The voice walked out of the shadows. “Who the fuck’s Kidlat?” It belonged to a short sickly looking boy, with a mad grin on his face and bulging eyes. “Pleased to meet you, ha ah, hope you guess my name.”
Blitz looked at the boy who was dressed in the orange/blue jumpsuit of the GFaqs Psych Ward. There was a name scribbled on it which the Officer could barely decipher.
“Clad?”
“Correctomundo, seniorita!” said the boy laughing madly. He wiped a bloody sleeve across his mouth. “And you must be Blitz! My what an honour, my old buddy Kidlat spoke of you no end. Mostly bad words!”
He began to giggle again. “And then I killed him!”
Blitz was astounded.
“I killed all of them, you know,” the man named Clad continued, “And I would do it again, but stabbing dead bodies really is pointless. The definition of madness,” he mused, “is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Blitz reached for his Pokeball.
“Kidlat broke me out of prison, by the way, he says to me, he says, ‘Oi, clad ol’ pal, I’ll get you outta here if you kill the guy who did this to me!” clad repeated in an accent completely dissimilar to Kidlat’s.
Then he saw Blitz reaching for a Pokeball. “I’m a man of my word, if anything,” he said softly, reaching for his own ball, “Play nice now! Go Magnezone!”
“Go Ursaring!”
On that day, Blitz’s Flame Orb Ursaring made mince...er...metal of Kidlat’s ex-Pokemon. A few more Close Combats put the shrieking Clad to rest, as well. The Goldenrod Police force was informed and they headed straight to the scene of the crime for the body count. Blitz was arrested for murder. The ANF Guard was closed down and put under investigation. Libelldra denied all connection with the incident.
Several notable people came to his hearing, even CJayC made an appearance to testify for old Guard. Blitz’s prison sentence was shortened by twenty years to a mere thirty, much to Blitz’s ‘<_<’. Driven almost to madness himself by the sheer violent nature of his fellow prisoners, he swiped Ursaring from the ‘Prisoner’s Pokemon’ wing of GFaqs Prison.
He escaped and fled to the Kanto region whereupon he made himself the unofficial Park Ranger at Lavender Town’s, Rock Tunnel Peaks. His Ursaring saved the private detective Million Daggers, rapidly making friends in the process.
At the age of 24, he has escaped prison, killed a man and a Pokemon, and is now currently getting on the back of an Aerodactyl which is, by no means, an easy feat.
Up next, Rose’s Story!
Backstory time! No updates this weekend, but its Saturday morning and I’ve got nothing to do. School holidays FTW!
This is perhaps my biggest update yet so I'm posting it in three parts, as I finish them.
* * *
“Awesome,” the boy exclaimed as his superior placed a silver badge in his palms. He moved it around in his hands, savouring its shine, feeling every nook and cranny of it.
“Congratulations, kiddo,” said Mr. Krew, Head Administrator.
The boy saluted and pinned the badge proudly into his wallet with his identification card.
“Go do us proud.”
Joining the ANF Guard was a huge honour for anyone, but especially for the teenage Blitz. He had dreamt of it since he was a boy, at first he had wanted to serve and protect, but ultimately he had joined for the same reasons everyone else did. The uniform, the chicks and the violence.
“Teddy? Teddiursa?” said his little companion. A faithful friend since he was a little kid afraid of the dark.
“We’re in business, Teddiursa.”
The ANF Company was property of the Libelldra Conglomerate. It was there to regulate and protect their money, their Pokemon, their people. More often than not, ANFers had to start from the bottom and work their way up, they would begin guarding old prisons, at the request of anonymous commissioners, and eventually they would start running around in the big cities of Sinnoh.
“Fame and fortune, Teddiursa,” he whispered softly.
The ANF Guard (Your personal Forretress), Blitz’s branch, was a personal security service. They were the elite, the best of the best, crème de la crème, if you will—and perhaps much more. They were there to protect VIPs, dignitaries and the obscenely rich.
“Magneton.”
“Hello, Blitz.”
Shit, though the newly inducted Guard, Kidlat
Kidlat and his Magneton had swept through the Training Academy with flying colours, setting records and breaking them everywhere they went.
“Whaddaya want, Kidlat?”
“Nothing, friend,” said the boy, in Blitz’s experience, anyone who called you ‘friend’ in that tone, was far from it. “Just wanted to say hi, is all.”
Blitz stared at him as he walked away.
“Oh,” said Kidlat, turning around with a smile, “There is one thing, it looks like I’ll be the one guarding CJayC for the remainder of this year, now that Ice has been promoted. And—”
“No way, punk,” said Blitz grinning, “I’m taking him!”
Kidlat laughed. “I was just about to say, ‘and the new riff-raff that the ANF have inducted just won’t cut it. Come Magneton.”
“Ton, ton”
Argh, Blitz thought, why was she so good at everything?!
“Let’s go Teddiursa,” he said, “they’ll give us our mission in the great Hall in about half an hour.”
“And congratulations to Officer Ice who was been promoted to Warden back at the Gamefaqs Prison, we wish him the best of luck.
But now is the moment you’ve been waiting for, our graduating class will, on this happy day, will be provided with their assignments for the year 2004!”
There was applause. Blitz sat at the edge of his seat. Names were read out, then they reached Kidlat’s.
And, perhaps one of the greatest student’s to come out of the ANF Guard, Officer Kidlat, will be guarding the esteemed... Mr. ChocoboMog!
Kidlat stood up to bow but was immediately shocked by what he had heard.
“There must be some mistake, I was supposed to guard CJayC! I...wha?”
“Sit down, please, Kidlat. It shall be your honour to guard Mr. Mog.”
Kidlat’s mouth opened and closed; flabbergasted.
And Officer Blitz, will for the year 2004, be guarding the head of Gamefaqs himself, Mr. CJayC!”
If Kidlat was surprised, Blitz was gobsmacked. CJayC? he thought, ZOMFG. Calling Teddiursa back into its ball, Officer Blitz, now Head Security at Gamefaqs ran outside cheering.
Later that day, Kidlat had come up to him, holding apologetically in his arms a package.
“A present,” he had said quietly, “Friends?”
Blitz nodded and happily unwrapped the box. It was a large glass orb.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Hold it,” Kidlat had told him.
Reaching inside he grabbed the ball which quickly flared into a whitish-blue, then a deadly orange.
“Shit!” he shouted, dropping the ball to the ground. It began to smoke on the grass. He stared at his fingers which had been badly burnt.
“Later, sucker,” Kidlat said, grimly and stalked off.
Blitz guarded CJayC that year taking part in many happy adventures, especially that time with the Marrill. Yes indeed, Blitz would later reminisce, that time with the Marrill was a barrel of fun. Good times, all round.
Regardless, the popularity of ANF was waning; Libelldra was cutting down funding in all of its divisions due to a short economic slump. In an effort to raise revenue, they were slowly downsizing the members of ANF in the hopes that their rich customers would only pay for the best. One incident two years later, in 2006, however, sealed the Forretress’ miserable fate.
Blitz couldn’t believe it, first CJayC had informed him that he was the best guard he had had after Ice, whom he hoped was enjoying is powerful new status guarding his prison, even going so far as requesting his services for another year. Then his secretary had informed him only a week ago that he would no longer be needed.
He sauntered sadly back into the walls of the ANF only to find them smeared with a sticky red mess.
“What the hell?” he whispered, then louder: “Anyone here?”
There was a rustle. “Oh this is indeed my lucky day.”
Blitz’s worst fears were realised, “Kidlat?”
The voice walked out of the shadows. “Who the fuck’s Kidlat?” It belonged to a short sickly looking boy, with a mad grin on his face and bulging eyes. “Pleased to meet you, ha ah, hope you guess my name.”
Blitz looked at the boy who was dressed in the orange/blue jumpsuit of the GFaqs Psych Ward. There was a name scribbled on it which the Officer could barely decipher.
“Clad?”
“Correctomundo, seniorita!” said the boy laughing madly. He wiped a bloody sleeve across his mouth. “And you must be Blitz! My what an honour, my old buddy Kidlat spoke of you no end. Mostly bad words!”
He began to giggle again. “And then I killed him!”
Blitz was astounded.
“I killed all of them, you know,” the man named Clad continued, “And I would do it again, but stabbing dead bodies really is pointless. The definition of madness,” he mused, “is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Blitz reached for his Pokeball.
“Kidlat broke me out of prison, by the way, he says to me, he says, ‘Oi, clad ol’ pal, I’ll get you outta here if you kill the guy who did this to me!” clad repeated in an accent completely dissimilar to Kidlat’s.
Then he saw Blitz reaching for a Pokeball. “I’m a man of my word, if anything,” he said softly, reaching for his own ball, “Play nice now! Go Magnezone!”
“Go Ursaring!”
On that day, Blitz’s Flame Orb Ursaring made mince...er...metal of Kidlat’s ex-Pokemon. A few more Close Combats put the shrieking Clad to rest, as well. The Goldenrod Police force was informed and they headed straight to the scene of the crime for the body count. Blitz was arrested for murder. The ANF Guard was closed down and put under investigation. Libelldra denied all connection with the incident.
Several notable people came to his hearing, even CJayC made an appearance to testify for old Guard. Blitz’s prison sentence was shortened by twenty years to a mere thirty, much to Blitz’s ‘<_<’. Driven almost to madness himself by the sheer violent nature of his fellow prisoners, he swiped Ursaring from the ‘Prisoner’s Pokemon’ wing of GFaqs Prison.
He escaped and fled to the Kanto region whereupon he made himself the unofficial Park Ranger at Lavender Town’s, Rock Tunnel Peaks. His Ursaring saved the private detective Million Daggers, rapidly making friends in the process.
At the age of 24, he has escaped prison, killed a man and a Pokemon, and is now currently getting on the back of an Aerodactyl which is, by no means, an easy feat.
Up next, Rose’s Story!
* * *
“Wow,” the little girl exclaimed as the wooden knife in her small gloved palms hacked through the rag doll as if it were butter. The rag doll, mounted to a small wooden post just about her size, tore open and released a spray of yellow hay.
“Excellent,” said a voice from behind. It was her Martial Arts Teacher, and her Grandpa. He began to clap his hands. Next to him, his Pokemon Roselia joyfully shook petals into the air. He turned to the other little children squatting wide eyed in front of him. “Notice her movement, boys and girls.”
The boys and girls nodded.
“She puts the weight towards the centre for easier parrying, in case,” he walked over to the rag doll, “In case her opponent was not made of hay! Now get to to your drills!”
Smiling, the children picked up their sticks and began motioning complex gestures, which would be difficult for any normal six year old to master. The old man chuckled and walked over to his granddaughter who was sitting on the ground in front of the wounded doll. “What's wrong, dear?” he asked, “You did wonderfully! You should be happy.”
The girl looked up at him. “Lookit Grampa!” she began, pointing at the dummy “I din’t cut it ‘nuff. If it’was real, I would of gotten it” she said the last word with portentous sincerity. Her grandpa looked at the dummy noticing the she had indeed slashed just below the major arteries.
“Oh, Rose,” he said, “No need to get all fussy. It’s not meant to be perfect—”
Rose ran out of the dojo.
“Roselia?” asked the flower creature staring sadly, as the little girl left.
“Aw, just give her time, dear,” the old man told his Pokemon. He turned to his class, “Alright, kids, listen up. Today we’re starting with swords!”
Rose—the girl, not the Pokemon—ran through the streets of cheery Verdanturf Town. She reached Verdant Lake, on the far North side of the nearby forest. Sitting down in the lush, damp grass, she gazed out at the clear blue sky.
Grampa was smart, she thought, But he was wrong. What was the point of learning martial arts, stealth tactics, battle strategies, all of it, if they weren’t perfect?
“They gotta be perfect,” she said to no one in particular.
“Seel, seel!,”
She stood up and looked into the water.
“Seel, seel!” She was glad Pokemon spoke in their own names (a flaw in their creation which she had never questioned), or else it would’ve been difficult deciding what to call it.
“Hello, little Seel,” she said moving closer to the playful Pokemon. “You must be very far away from home.”
Seel nodded. It splashed her in the face. Rose was a little girl but she would have been the first to admit that she didn’t like to fool around. However, on this day, something clicked. She leapt into the water with a smile and splashed the Seel back.
“Seel, seel!”
She was sopping wet and had no idea how she would explain it her parents back home, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. All she knew was that Seel had four splashes to her two, and she was sure as hell she wouldn’t let it win. Giggling, the girl and the Pokemon played in that lake until the end of the day.
Rose would make many trips back to her friend Seel at Verdant Lake. Her parents, much to her surprise, encouraged her to do so, seeing their little girl happy for a long, long time.
Rose also did not neglect her training. Every weekday she would come to the dojo, visit her grandpa, practice battling with Roselia, then go straight to the lake. For a long time, it seemed that everybody was going to be happy. Like that Kinks song.
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(Perhaps it's best to finish the song, then read on--the music doesn't work with the rest of the story <_<)
* * *
Rose threw a hand, unguided, into a greasy white packet. She withdrew it holding a clump of hot crunchy pieces of potato, which she quickly blew on and clenched between her teeth. Grabbing another handful, she motioned to Seel, and threw the chips into the air.
“Seel, Seel!” it said happily, as if it could say anything else.
Rose smiled in the grass and stared out into the tall smoky mountains in the horizon. The ground shook. Rose ignored it at first, chewing happily on her lunch.
About ten minutes later, it shook again. This time it was punctuated with the staccato of gun fire. Rose bolted upwards.
“Somefing’s wrong, Seel,” she said warily, “Let’s go.”
Seel put on a brave face and followed its friend back to town.
Another explosion rocketed Verdanturf. Rose could see the Contest Hall smoking in the distant. She ran straight to the dojo.
“Grampa!” she yelled, tears welling up in her eyes, “Grampa! What happened?”
In the flaming remains of the dojo she saw her grandpa limp on the ground. She saw his Roselia desperately trying to revive him with Aromatherapy in vain. “Grampa,” she yelled once more and ran towards the body.
“Heya kiddo. You still kickin’?”
Choking back tears she replied, “Yessir, yes. What happened here?”
“Ah, you don’t need to know. What you do have to do is run, get out of here, before you get hurt. Why, I bet your parents have already left!”
“I can’t Grampa, you know I—”
“If there was any other choice, I’d let you know. Now go on, go,” her grandpa winked at her with a smile, “I’ll catch up with ya later.”
“Roselia!”
And just like that her martial arts teacher—her grandpa, closed his eyes and surrendered to death. Rose rubbed at her puffy eyes.
“Seel? Roselia?”
The two Pokemon looked up.
“Let’s go.”
They ran outside and saw them. A group of about five men standing around motorbikes and gazing at the destruction. One man, the biggest of all of them was holding several Pokeballs and throwing them up into the air one at a time.
“Graveller! Explosion!”
“GRAV” it said as it leapt towards a building demolishing it with a fierce blast.
Another man laughed. Rose crept behind the burnt-out, twisted skeleton of a car.
“When I give you the signal,” she told her Pokemon, “Attack.”
“Boo.”
Rose looked up. A gruff looking man with a mass of stubble was glaring up at her.
“Now!” she screamed.
“Seel”
“Roselia!”
A white frosty beam and a green ball of energy launched from both sides of the little girl. They hit the man square in the chest and sent him flying into the air. There was a roar of engines. A rattle of machine guns.
Rose got up and stared at the horizon. The men were mobilising on their bikes and staring directly at her.
“Shit,” she swore and covered her mouth astounded at her words.
Seel and Roselia didn’t give up, throwing beams of Ice and Grass at the thugs. They picked off a few but they were close now. Getting off their bikes they walked over to Rose who lay cowering on the ground.
“We blow up a whole village and this little girl is the first to give us trouble,” said one aiming his gun.
“You don’t mess with the Hoenn Bike Gang, little miss.”
Rose plucked up the courage to speak, “What do you guys want?”
“We’re smugglers kiddo,” said the third, apparently their leader, “The Contest Hall here has some of the best Pokemon in the business. People pay big bucks for ‘em. In fact—,”
“You better get out, while you still can,” said Rose angrily.
One man went up to her and knelt on one knee. “You never, ever interrupt the boss man,” he said. Without warning Rose jabbed a point on the man’s neck. He coughed out blood and collapsed to the ground.
“What the hell did you do?” said the man with the gun. He aimed his weapon at the girl and shot.
And suddenly it was as if time froze. Rose stared as the bullet exploded from the tip of the gun and floated slowly in the air. She could move faster than everyone else, she felt. A bright pink flashed in front of her eyes and she—along with her Pokemon—were thrown out of the bullet’s path.
“Not yet,” said a voice which seemed like it wasn’t her own. It echoed in her head.
The bullet hit the empty patch of ground, and as it did so, Rose took this chance to leap upon the leader of the gang and snapped his neck. Taking a pocket knife from his belt she turned and swiftly slashed at the gun-wielder. They both collapsed to the ground, dead or unconscious.
Rose ran down to the forest. She knew her parents were gone. Everyone she loved had left her. She ran away and never looked back.
Rose left Verdanturf at the age of 6. She appeared at an orphanage in Fallarbor Town and was educated there until she was 10, whereupon she left on her own Pokemon adventure, as one does. At 18, she, in an attempt to earn a living, placed an advertisement in the Mauville Times stating that she could ‘clean up the house, in minutes’. A client then rang up and told her that, for a sum of seven hundred thousand Pokedollars, she would kill several crooked politicians. Rose obliged and thus began her life of assassination.
A year later, a man called her up and asked to hire her services for an indefinite period of time. The same voice, the same voice on that night at Verdanturf told her:
“Do it”
She accepted.
Now Rose, under the leadership of her mysterious new clients, is searching for a certain Million Daggers and Professor Ruesap—a journey which has taken her to faraway Lavender Town. Her motives are, as of yet unknown. But her knives and her Roserade’s Specs boosted Leaf Storm are most definitely real.
Ruesap's turn...
“Wow,” the little girl exclaimed as the wooden knife in her small gloved palms hacked through the rag doll as if it were butter. The rag doll, mounted to a small wooden post just about her size, tore open and released a spray of yellow hay.
“Excellent,” said a voice from behind. It was her Martial Arts Teacher, and her Grandpa. He began to clap his hands. Next to him, his Pokemon Roselia joyfully shook petals into the air. He turned to the other little children squatting wide eyed in front of him. “Notice her movement, boys and girls.”
The boys and girls nodded.
“She puts the weight towards the centre for easier parrying, in case,” he walked over to the rag doll, “In case her opponent was not made of hay! Now get to to your drills!”
Smiling, the children picked up their sticks and began motioning complex gestures, which would be difficult for any normal six year old to master. The old man chuckled and walked over to his granddaughter who was sitting on the ground in front of the wounded doll. “What's wrong, dear?” he asked, “You did wonderfully! You should be happy.”
The girl looked up at him. “Lookit Grampa!” she began, pointing at the dummy “I din’t cut it ‘nuff. If it’was real, I would of gotten it” she said the last word with portentous sincerity. Her grandpa looked at the dummy noticing the she had indeed slashed just below the major arteries.
“Oh, Rose,” he said, “No need to get all fussy. It’s not meant to be perfect—”
Rose ran out of the dojo.
“Roselia?” asked the flower creature staring sadly, as the little girl left.
“Aw, just give her time, dear,” the old man told his Pokemon. He turned to his class, “Alright, kids, listen up. Today we’re starting with swords!”
Rose—the girl, not the Pokemon—ran through the streets of cheery Verdanturf Town. She reached Verdant Lake, on the far North side of the nearby forest. Sitting down in the lush, damp grass, she gazed out at the clear blue sky.
Grampa was smart, she thought, But he was wrong. What was the point of learning martial arts, stealth tactics, battle strategies, all of it, if they weren’t perfect?
“They gotta be perfect,” she said to no one in particular.
“Seel, seel!,”
She stood up and looked into the water.
“Seel, seel!” She was glad Pokemon spoke in their own names (a flaw in their creation which she had never questioned), or else it would’ve been difficult deciding what to call it.
“Hello, little Seel,” she said moving closer to the playful Pokemon. “You must be very far away from home.”
Seel nodded. It splashed her in the face. Rose was a little girl but she would have been the first to admit that she didn’t like to fool around. However, on this day, something clicked. She leapt into the water with a smile and splashed the Seel back.
“Seel, seel!”
She was sopping wet and had no idea how she would explain it her parents back home, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. All she knew was that Seel had four splashes to her two, and she was sure as hell she wouldn’t let it win. Giggling, the girl and the Pokemon played in that lake until the end of the day.
Rose would make many trips back to her friend Seel at Verdant Lake. Her parents, much to her surprise, encouraged her to do so, seeing their little girl happy for a long, long time.
Rose also did not neglect her training. Every weekday she would come to the dojo, visit her grandpa, practice battling with Roselia, then go straight to the lake. For a long time, it seemed that everybody was going to be happy. Like that Kinks song.
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(Perhaps it's best to finish the song, then read on--the music doesn't work with the rest of the story <_<)
* * *
Rose threw a hand, unguided, into a greasy white packet. She withdrew it holding a clump of hot crunchy pieces of potato, which she quickly blew on and clenched between her teeth. Grabbing another handful, she motioned to Seel, and threw the chips into the air.
“Seel, Seel!” it said happily, as if it could say anything else.
Rose smiled in the grass and stared out into the tall smoky mountains in the horizon. The ground shook. Rose ignored it at first, chewing happily on her lunch.
About ten minutes later, it shook again. This time it was punctuated with the staccato of gun fire. Rose bolted upwards.
“Somefing’s wrong, Seel,” she said warily, “Let’s go.”
Seel put on a brave face and followed its friend back to town.
Another explosion rocketed Verdanturf. Rose could see the Contest Hall smoking in the distant. She ran straight to the dojo.
“Grampa!” she yelled, tears welling up in her eyes, “Grampa! What happened?”
In the flaming remains of the dojo she saw her grandpa limp on the ground. She saw his Roselia desperately trying to revive him with Aromatherapy in vain. “Grampa,” she yelled once more and ran towards the body.
“Heya kiddo. You still kickin’?”
Choking back tears she replied, “Yessir, yes. What happened here?”
“Ah, you don’t need to know. What you do have to do is run, get out of here, before you get hurt. Why, I bet your parents have already left!”
“I can’t Grampa, you know I—”
“If there was any other choice, I’d let you know. Now go on, go,” her grandpa winked at her with a smile, “I’ll catch up with ya later.”
“Roselia!”
And just like that her martial arts teacher—her grandpa, closed his eyes and surrendered to death. Rose rubbed at her puffy eyes.
“Seel? Roselia?”
The two Pokemon looked up.
“Let’s go.”
They ran outside and saw them. A group of about five men standing around motorbikes and gazing at the destruction. One man, the biggest of all of them was holding several Pokeballs and throwing them up into the air one at a time.
“Graveller! Explosion!”
“GRAV” it said as it leapt towards a building demolishing it with a fierce blast.
Another man laughed. Rose crept behind the burnt-out, twisted skeleton of a car.
“When I give you the signal,” she told her Pokemon, “Attack.”
“Boo.”
Rose looked up. A gruff looking man with a mass of stubble was glaring up at her.
“Now!” she screamed.
“Seel”
“Roselia!”
A white frosty beam and a green ball of energy launched from both sides of the little girl. They hit the man square in the chest and sent him flying into the air. There was a roar of engines. A rattle of machine guns.
Rose got up and stared at the horizon. The men were mobilising on their bikes and staring directly at her.
“Shit,” she swore and covered her mouth astounded at her words.
Seel and Roselia didn’t give up, throwing beams of Ice and Grass at the thugs. They picked off a few but they were close now. Getting off their bikes they walked over to Rose who lay cowering on the ground.
“We blow up a whole village and this little girl is the first to give us trouble,” said one aiming his gun.
“You don’t mess with the Hoenn Bike Gang, little miss.”
Rose plucked up the courage to speak, “What do you guys want?”
“We’re smugglers kiddo,” said the third, apparently their leader, “The Contest Hall here has some of the best Pokemon in the business. People pay big bucks for ‘em. In fact—,”
“You better get out, while you still can,” said Rose angrily.
One man went up to her and knelt on one knee. “You never, ever interrupt the boss man,” he said. Without warning Rose jabbed a point on the man’s neck. He coughed out blood and collapsed to the ground.
“What the hell did you do?” said the man with the gun. He aimed his weapon at the girl and shot.
And suddenly it was as if time froze. Rose stared as the bullet exploded from the tip of the gun and floated slowly in the air. She could move faster than everyone else, she felt. A bright pink flashed in front of her eyes and she—along with her Pokemon—were thrown out of the bullet’s path.
“Not yet,” said a voice which seemed like it wasn’t her own. It echoed in her head.
The bullet hit the empty patch of ground, and as it did so, Rose took this chance to leap upon the leader of the gang and snapped his neck. Taking a pocket knife from his belt she turned and swiftly slashed at the gun-wielder. They both collapsed to the ground, dead or unconscious.
Rose ran down to the forest. She knew her parents were gone. Everyone she loved had left her. She ran away and never looked back.
Rose left Verdanturf at the age of 6. She appeared at an orphanage in Fallarbor Town and was educated there until she was 10, whereupon she left on her own Pokemon adventure, as one does. At 18, she, in an attempt to earn a living, placed an advertisement in the Mauville Times stating that she could ‘clean up the house, in minutes’. A client then rang up and told her that, for a sum of seven hundred thousand Pokedollars, she would kill several crooked politicians. Rose obliged and thus began her life of assassination.
A year later, a man called her up and asked to hire her services for an indefinite period of time. The same voice, the same voice on that night at Verdanturf told her:
“Do it”
She accepted.
Now Rose, under the leadership of her mysterious new clients, is searching for a certain Million Daggers and Professor Ruesap—a journey which has taken her to faraway Lavender Town. Her motives are, as of yet unknown. But her knives and her Roserade’s Specs boosted Leaf Storm are most definitely real.
Ruesap's turn...
Phew last update. WHOAMG that was long... ah but it was fun <_<
* * *
“Eureka,” the man exclaimed as his dirty fingernails struck something hard in the ground. He began scrabbling quickly, almost breaking his hand in the process. A Dome and Helix fossil buried almost a metre apart! Astonishing! Absolutely incredible! He was right about Mount Moon, it was the greatest dig site in all of Kanto. Putting all the strength in his thighs, he tried to get a good grip on the smooth stone.
“One...two...three!”
He fell backwards and landed painfully on his behind. The fossil lay stubbornly inside its hole.
“!”
Pokemaniac Ruesap swivelled around to catch where the exclamation mark had come from. A trainer dressed in blue stood behind him, a Squirtle following him faithfully. Ruesap brushed away the hair in his eyes and tweaked his glasses.
“Bugger off!” shouted Ruesap angrily, he hated these snot nosed punks and their battling. Pokemon was science, Pokemon was history, not some asinine blood bath for the amusements of violent morons.
The trainer unsmiling, but clearly not offended, approached the Pokemaniac.
“What’s that?”
“Didn’t I tell you to bugger off?”
“I’ll battle you for one.”
“Wha—? Do you not understand me kid? Bugger off!”
“k. We battle,” said the boy to Ruesap’s exasperation. He made clenching motions with his fists, and mumbled undecipherable things. The trainer grinned and threw a Pokeball into the air.
Ruesap, having no other choice, being subjected to the ancient custom of “!” countered with his own ball. “Go Clefable!” he shouted.
Suddenly the boy’s arrogant mug turned into an expression of shock. A patch of red began to blossom on his stomach. He coughed once, twice, and felt to the ground.
Shick, went Scyther’s blades as it removed them from inside the trainer’s body.
“Woopsy-daisy,” came yet another voice. Emerging from the shadows came its owner, a man dressed in an ill-fitting black shirt with a huge red ‘R’ emblazoned upon its chest. “These, fossils are property of Team Rocket. Swords Dance, Scyther!”
Scyther began jumping up and down, lacking any semblance of rhythm. It swooped over and struck Clefable to the ground with a mighty Quick Attack.
“Clef!” it squealed as it fell to the ground. The Rocket walked over to Ruesap who was still staring in disbelief at the trainer’s body.
“Those fossils are ours,” reiterated the Rocket, “and so is that mind of yours, Mr. Ruesap.”
Against his will, Pokemaniac Ruesap was inducted into the ranks of the Team Rocket Reseach and Development Squad. His Pokemaniac status was first upgraded to Grunt and then eventually, at the mere age of 20, to Rocket Scientist:
Cinnabar Mansion – 1996
“And how is our little project running?”
“Swimmingly, Mr. Giovanni, sir. Another day or two and this experiment will be one hundred percent successful.”
“A hundred percent?” repeated the man named Giovanni.
“Have I ever let you down, sir?”
The Rocket Boss’ cruel demeanour softened and he began to laughed. “Not yet, Professor Ruesap. Not yet.”
Ruesap walked down the hall of a shadowy basement staring at the mysterious man-sized vials filled with a viscous green liquid. Because even secret laboratories have standards. He stared at his feet making snicker-snack noises on the white linoleum. Reaching a grey concrete wall, he knocked on certain bricks several times in a seemingly random fashion. Then he coughed.
“Password?”
“New England Clam Chowder.”
The brick wall gave a tired groan and sunk into the ground. A large metal elevator appeared and Professor Ruesap walked on inside.
“Which floor will it be today, Professor Ruesap?
“Basement, please.”
Clunk.
The Rocket Scientist stepped outside of the creaking contraption and entered a vast bunker. Several men in white lab-coats stopped what they were doing and saluted to him, then they turned around and got busy typing Type-Charts and calculating Damage Calcs. And he should’ve been happy, this was, after all, what Pokemon was all about. But Ruesap simply sighed and walked on to the centre of the bunker.
The huge orb suspended in the middle of the scientific hub. It emitted a faint purple light which got stronger as Ruesap touched the glass.
Wonderful, he thought, as he watched the humanoid greyish creature floating meditatively inside. Layered in thick fleshy tubes, the beast slept.
“What have we created?” Ruesap whispered to himself. Then to the entire bunker:
“Everyone, ready? Today’s the day!”
The talking and bustling increased tenfold. Like bees in the hive, the white lab coats buzzed here and there pushing buttons, flicking switches, pulling levers. There were various shouts around the room, and several people came up to the professor asking him to sign an assortment of forms. When everyone was quiet Ruesap gave the signal. He crossed his fingers and hoped to whatever was out there that it wouldn’t work. From a glass partition Giovanni watched.
He gave Ruesap a thumbs up.
Today was the day they would succeed where the past Cinnabar scientists had failed. Today was the day when they would make history. Ruesap gave the signal.
A current of electricity flashed through a hundred different wires and exploded once inside the tank. Exploded twice. Exploded three times. Each burst punctuated by Ruesap’s authoritative yell. The electric current flashed a fourth time.
The creature in the tank began to stir.
A fifth time.
Its eyes opened up.
A sixth time.
The beast opened its three handed fingers and closed them again,a s if testing whether or not it worked.
A seventh time. Ruesap grabbed a Pokeball from his pocket and began to back away. He was glad he had swiped this Pokemon from upstairs before he came down here.
The creature opened and closed its mouth. Its eyes squinted to take in its surroundings. Reaching behind it tore the tubes attached to the back of its neck.
One scientist, Ruesap’s understudy approached the creature.
“Hello Mewtwo,” he said softly. The creature stared silently for a few moments and then began to speak. But Ruesap did not here what Project Mewtwo had to say ofr he had already thrown a Pokeball into the air. The next few moments were chaos.
Clearly Mewtwo had said something to offend the scientists who were all talking amongst themselves. Soon after this an Aerodactyl from Experiment Lazarus had swooped out of nowhere and snatched Professor Ruesap into the air. There was a scream. Mewtwo held out a hand. Its eyes glowed a bright blue—then its hands began to glow softly. And just like an electric current, the world exploded.
Ruesap, on the back of Aerodactyl, meeting with the escaped experiment in the process:
“Why do you run human?” the creature said, or perhaps thought, Ruesap couldn’t tell.
“I... I never asked to be here.”
“You did not answer my question. Why do you run?”
“This is not my life. I need to find...”
“Then we are not different, human. That is what I am looking for too.”
“W--where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” the creature communicated thoughtfully. There was a sound of sirens, then helicopter mobilising into the air. Mewtwo glared at his pursuers.
“No more blood, today. Many people here do not deserve my punishment” He looked at Ruesap, “But perhaps you wish to exact your own. And if our destinies are truly alike, then I wish good luck to us both, human.”
Mewtwo, closed its eyes and disappeared from Ruesap’s sight, in ablinding blue flash.
The helicopters appeared behind him. They must’ve thought that he sabotaged the project. They began to shoot.
“Aeroy!” Ruesap shouted, “Give ‘em a Stone Edge!”
“AERO!”
A mass of sharp pillars flew straight ut of the Cinnabar coastline and rammed headlong into the Rocket choppers, causing massive explosions which Aerodactyl shied away with its rocky wing.
Pulling a glowing red band in his pocket he slipped it onto Aerodactyl’s reptilian neck. At first it struggled then it began to absorb the sheer power emanating from that tenuous piece of cloth. This was another experiment the Science division was working on. The CB mk1, the prototype.
“Shall we try it out, Aerodactyl?” said Ruesap grimly as he stared at the complete Air division of Team Rocket move up into the sky and fly straight towards him.
“Professor Ruesap, remove the Choice Band from your Pokemon and land immediately,” announced an echoing voice from one of the black helicopters.
Ruesap knew that landing would mean torture and death.
“Stone Edge Aeroy! And Fly!”
Another mass of rocks erupted from the sea, this time as if its power was magnified at least 1.5 times. The first battalion of helicopters were torn apart like paper, with the rest of them retreating back to the labs.
Pieces of burning debris fell to the ground. The band worked. And dodging gunfire, Aerodactyl flew towards the horizon.
Professor Ruesap escaped to Pewter City where he submitted an application to work for the Museum of Natural History as a security guard. Upon displaying his intelligence surpassing that of any of the staff members, he was promoted to an Executive status (albeit an underpaid one).
In 2000, he succeeded in deciphering the inscriptions on the walls of Ecruteak’s Burnt Tower, though his adventures there were never documented and he still refuses to give information on his adventure.
Legend has it that on that day Ecruteak’s Burnt Tower contained one less ancient Pokemon.
Eventually, at the age of 29, he was selected to be mentored by Herr Paranoia the world’s foremost expert on Ancient Pokemon back at Cinnabar Labs, as his youngest ever student. Ruesap accepted the job grudgingly, giving in to the appeal of his jealous colleagues. This was, of course, a job which for him unearthed many bad memories.
Turning to drink, he met Million Daggers, an alcoholic detective, during a lecture in Lavender University and is now travelling the world with him, at the age of 31—on a quest to find truth and a way to leave his past.
* * *
Saffron City - Present Day
“ZOMG,” exclaimed the boy as he stared greedily at the blue hunk of meat in front of him. It looked so tasty and he had not eaten for days. He picked it up and started chewing on it hungrily.
Feraligatr jerked awake, it turned around and its eyes bulged into an expression changed into one that can only be described as ‘0_0’.
“Fera?” [wtf?]
Gameboy3333 looked up at his Pokemon.
“I’m sorry Feraligatr,” he said, “But really, there’s nothing we can do.”
They had been inside this change room fro some three days now, without food, (water was supplied by Feraligatr). They had tried breaking through the walls but they were practically bomb proof.
“This is really good,” said gameboy3333 deliriously, his teeth having no effect on Feraligatr’s scaly skin. “You should try— oh never mind.”
Feraligatr was still shocked. His master was eating him! He had deale with gameboy’s idiosyncrasies before by simply ignoring them or refusing to come out of his ball, but this was too much.
“Delicious,” said gameboy happily.
“Fera, Fera!” [get the fuck off!]
Feraligatr whipped its tail backwards and threw gameboy into the wall next to the door. It creaked open slowly.
“Fera, Fera, Fera, Gatr!” [I’ve been trying to tell you, it wasn’t even locked properly; we could’ve left any time!!]
gameboy3333 got up and dusted himself. “Well, then, let’s go buddy! We gotta find CrossDragon and battle the bastard.”
“Fera!” [whatever just don’t bite me]
He got up on the crocodile and kicked him in the side. Feraligatr roared and plodded onwards at a snail’s pace.
“Dragon Dance...” said gameboy, “Twice!”
Feraligatr hopped up and down, this dance apparently having the same effect as steroids. It kicked the ground and zoomed of through the Saffron streets.
“Fera?”
gameboy removed his teeth from the Feraligatr’s back. “Sorry,” he said, and regaining his dignity “Onwards and upwards!”
Voting time:
Now, where were we? Ah yes, where will our adventurers, Million, Ruesap and Blitz head off next? Will they find Cross? Who is Ominous Doom? And what about Rose? All of this and more, will perhaps, but more likely not, be answered in the next episode at...
A.) Cinnabar Labs?
B.) Gfaqs Prison?
C.) The other Temples?
Last time it was a tie, so now the people who chose ‘D’ must cast the vote and break it. (Namely Rose and Ruesap, but you're free to change your vote.)
Go go go!
P.S. Other characters will probably get backstories later so look out for that (of course next time they'll be shorter <_< )
* * *
“Eureka,” the man exclaimed as his dirty fingernails struck something hard in the ground. He began scrabbling quickly, almost breaking his hand in the process. A Dome and Helix fossil buried almost a metre apart! Astonishing! Absolutely incredible! He was right about Mount Moon, it was the greatest dig site in all of Kanto. Putting all the strength in his thighs, he tried to get a good grip on the smooth stone.
“One...two...three!”
He fell backwards and landed painfully on his behind. The fossil lay stubbornly inside its hole.
“!”
Pokemaniac Ruesap swivelled around to catch where the exclamation mark had come from. A trainer dressed in blue stood behind him, a Squirtle following him faithfully. Ruesap brushed away the hair in his eyes and tweaked his glasses.
“Bugger off!” shouted Ruesap angrily, he hated these snot nosed punks and their battling. Pokemon was science, Pokemon was history, not some asinine blood bath for the amusements of violent morons.
The trainer unsmiling, but clearly not offended, approached the Pokemaniac.
“What’s that?”
“Didn’t I tell you to bugger off?”
“I’ll battle you for one.”
“Wha—? Do you not understand me kid? Bugger off!”
“k. We battle,” said the boy to Ruesap’s exasperation. He made clenching motions with his fists, and mumbled undecipherable things. The trainer grinned and threw a Pokeball into the air.
Ruesap, having no other choice, being subjected to the ancient custom of “!” countered with his own ball. “Go Clefable!” he shouted.
Suddenly the boy’s arrogant mug turned into an expression of shock. A patch of red began to blossom on his stomach. He coughed once, twice, and felt to the ground.
Shick, went Scyther’s blades as it removed them from inside the trainer’s body.
“Woopsy-daisy,” came yet another voice. Emerging from the shadows came its owner, a man dressed in an ill-fitting black shirt with a huge red ‘R’ emblazoned upon its chest. “These, fossils are property of Team Rocket. Swords Dance, Scyther!”
Scyther began jumping up and down, lacking any semblance of rhythm. It swooped over and struck Clefable to the ground with a mighty Quick Attack.
“Clef!” it squealed as it fell to the ground. The Rocket walked over to Ruesap who was still staring in disbelief at the trainer’s body.
“Those fossils are ours,” reiterated the Rocket, “and so is that mind of yours, Mr. Ruesap.”
Against his will, Pokemaniac Ruesap was inducted into the ranks of the Team Rocket Reseach and Development Squad. His Pokemaniac status was first upgraded to Grunt and then eventually, at the mere age of 20, to Rocket Scientist:
Cinnabar Mansion – 1996
“And how is our little project running?”
“Swimmingly, Mr. Giovanni, sir. Another day or two and this experiment will be one hundred percent successful.”
“A hundred percent?” repeated the man named Giovanni.
“Have I ever let you down, sir?”
The Rocket Boss’ cruel demeanour softened and he began to laughed. “Not yet, Professor Ruesap. Not yet.”
Ruesap walked down the hall of a shadowy basement staring at the mysterious man-sized vials filled with a viscous green liquid. Because even secret laboratories have standards. He stared at his feet making snicker-snack noises on the white linoleum. Reaching a grey concrete wall, he knocked on certain bricks several times in a seemingly random fashion. Then he coughed.
“Password?”
“New England Clam Chowder.”
The brick wall gave a tired groan and sunk into the ground. A large metal elevator appeared and Professor Ruesap walked on inside.
“Which floor will it be today, Professor Ruesap?
“Basement, please.”
Clunk.
The Rocket Scientist stepped outside of the creaking contraption and entered a vast bunker. Several men in white lab-coats stopped what they were doing and saluted to him, then they turned around and got busy typing Type-Charts and calculating Damage Calcs. And he should’ve been happy, this was, after all, what Pokemon was all about. But Ruesap simply sighed and walked on to the centre of the bunker.
The huge orb suspended in the middle of the scientific hub. It emitted a faint purple light which got stronger as Ruesap touched the glass.
Wonderful, he thought, as he watched the humanoid greyish creature floating meditatively inside. Layered in thick fleshy tubes, the beast slept.
“What have we created?” Ruesap whispered to himself. Then to the entire bunker:
“Everyone, ready? Today’s the day!”
The talking and bustling increased tenfold. Like bees in the hive, the white lab coats buzzed here and there pushing buttons, flicking switches, pulling levers. There were various shouts around the room, and several people came up to the professor asking him to sign an assortment of forms. When everyone was quiet Ruesap gave the signal. He crossed his fingers and hoped to whatever was out there that it wouldn’t work. From a glass partition Giovanni watched.
He gave Ruesap a thumbs up.
Today was the day they would succeed where the past Cinnabar scientists had failed. Today was the day when they would make history. Ruesap gave the signal.
A current of electricity flashed through a hundred different wires and exploded once inside the tank. Exploded twice. Exploded three times. Each burst punctuated by Ruesap’s authoritative yell. The electric current flashed a fourth time.
The creature in the tank began to stir.
A fifth time.
Its eyes opened up.
A sixth time.
The beast opened its three handed fingers and closed them again,a s if testing whether or not it worked.
A seventh time. Ruesap grabbed a Pokeball from his pocket and began to back away. He was glad he had swiped this Pokemon from upstairs before he came down here.
The creature opened and closed its mouth. Its eyes squinted to take in its surroundings. Reaching behind it tore the tubes attached to the back of its neck.
One scientist, Ruesap’s understudy approached the creature.
“Hello Mewtwo,” he said softly. The creature stared silently for a few moments and then began to speak. But Ruesap did not here what Project Mewtwo had to say ofr he had already thrown a Pokeball into the air. The next few moments were chaos.
Clearly Mewtwo had said something to offend the scientists who were all talking amongst themselves. Soon after this an Aerodactyl from Experiment Lazarus had swooped out of nowhere and snatched Professor Ruesap into the air. There was a scream. Mewtwo held out a hand. Its eyes glowed a bright blue—then its hands began to glow softly. And just like an electric current, the world exploded.
Ruesap, on the back of Aerodactyl, meeting with the escaped experiment in the process:
“Why do you run human?” the creature said, or perhaps thought, Ruesap couldn’t tell.
“I... I never asked to be here.”
“You did not answer my question. Why do you run?”
“This is not my life. I need to find...”
“Then we are not different, human. That is what I am looking for too.”
“W--where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” the creature communicated thoughtfully. There was a sound of sirens, then helicopter mobilising into the air. Mewtwo glared at his pursuers.
“No more blood, today. Many people here do not deserve my punishment” He looked at Ruesap, “But perhaps you wish to exact your own. And if our destinies are truly alike, then I wish good luck to us both, human.”
Mewtwo, closed its eyes and disappeared from Ruesap’s sight, in ablinding blue flash.
The helicopters appeared behind him. They must’ve thought that he sabotaged the project. They began to shoot.
“Aeroy!” Ruesap shouted, “Give ‘em a Stone Edge!”
“AERO!”
A mass of sharp pillars flew straight ut of the Cinnabar coastline and rammed headlong into the Rocket choppers, causing massive explosions which Aerodactyl shied away with its rocky wing.
Pulling a glowing red band in his pocket he slipped it onto Aerodactyl’s reptilian neck. At first it struggled then it began to absorb the sheer power emanating from that tenuous piece of cloth. This was another experiment the Science division was working on. The CB mk1, the prototype.
“Shall we try it out, Aerodactyl?” said Ruesap grimly as he stared at the complete Air division of Team Rocket move up into the sky and fly straight towards him.
“Professor Ruesap, remove the Choice Band from your Pokemon and land immediately,” announced an echoing voice from one of the black helicopters.
Ruesap knew that landing would mean torture and death.
“Stone Edge Aeroy! And Fly!”
Another mass of rocks erupted from the sea, this time as if its power was magnified at least 1.5 times. The first battalion of helicopters were torn apart like paper, with the rest of them retreating back to the labs.
Pieces of burning debris fell to the ground. The band worked. And dodging gunfire, Aerodactyl flew towards the horizon.
Professor Ruesap escaped to Pewter City where he submitted an application to work for the Museum of Natural History as a security guard. Upon displaying his intelligence surpassing that of any of the staff members, he was promoted to an Executive status (albeit an underpaid one).
In 2000, he succeeded in deciphering the inscriptions on the walls of Ecruteak’s Burnt Tower, though his adventures there were never documented and he still refuses to give information on his adventure.
Legend has it that on that day Ecruteak’s Burnt Tower contained one less ancient Pokemon.
Eventually, at the age of 29, he was selected to be mentored by Herr Paranoia the world’s foremost expert on Ancient Pokemon back at Cinnabar Labs, as his youngest ever student. Ruesap accepted the job grudgingly, giving in to the appeal of his jealous colleagues. This was, of course, a job which for him unearthed many bad memories.
Turning to drink, he met Million Daggers, an alcoholic detective, during a lecture in Lavender University and is now travelling the world with him, at the age of 31—on a quest to find truth and a way to leave his past.
* * *
Saffron City - Present Day
“ZOMG,” exclaimed the boy as he stared greedily at the blue hunk of meat in front of him. It looked so tasty and he had not eaten for days. He picked it up and started chewing on it hungrily.
Feraligatr jerked awake, it turned around and its eyes bulged into an expression changed into one that can only be described as ‘0_0’.
“Fera?” [wtf?]
Gameboy3333 looked up at his Pokemon.
“I’m sorry Feraligatr,” he said, “But really, there’s nothing we can do.”
They had been inside this change room fro some three days now, without food, (water was supplied by Feraligatr). They had tried breaking through the walls but they were practically bomb proof.
“This is really good,” said gameboy3333 deliriously, his teeth having no effect on Feraligatr’s scaly skin. “You should try— oh never mind.”
Feraligatr was still shocked. His master was eating him! He had deale with gameboy’s idiosyncrasies before by simply ignoring them or refusing to come out of his ball, but this was too much.
“Delicious,” said gameboy happily.
“Fera, Fera!” [get the fuck off!]
Feraligatr whipped its tail backwards and threw gameboy into the wall next to the door. It creaked open slowly.
“Fera, Fera, Fera, Gatr!” [I’ve been trying to tell you, it wasn’t even locked properly; we could’ve left any time!!]
gameboy3333 got up and dusted himself. “Well, then, let’s go buddy! We gotta find CrossDragon and battle the bastard.”
“Fera!” [whatever just don’t bite me]
He got up on the crocodile and kicked him in the side. Feraligatr roared and plodded onwards at a snail’s pace.
“Dragon Dance...” said gameboy, “Twice!”
Feraligatr hopped up and down, this dance apparently having the same effect as steroids. It kicked the ground and zoomed of through the Saffron streets.
“Fera?”
gameboy removed his teeth from the Feraligatr’s back. “Sorry,” he said, and regaining his dignity “Onwards and upwards!”
Voting time:
Now, where were we? Ah yes, where will our adventurers, Million, Ruesap and Blitz head off next? Will they find Cross? Who is Ominous Doom? And what about Rose? All of this and more, will perhaps, but more likely not, be answered in the next episode at...
A.) Cinnabar Labs?
B.) Gfaqs Prison?
C.) The other Temples?
Last time it was a tie, so now the people who chose ‘D’ must cast the vote and break it. (Namely Rose and Ruesap, but you're free to change your vote.)
Go go go!
P.S. Other characters will probably get backstories later so look out for that (of course next time they'll be shorter <_< )
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