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Thread: [Pokemon] Tarnished Gold: The Story of Cynthia (R)

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    [Pokemon] Tarnished Gold: The Story of Cynthia (R; all sorts of reasons)

    If you haven't noticed the parenthesis next to the thread title, this fic is rated R, for the following reasons:

    1. Lime pedophilia
    2. Demonic possession
    3. Violence and some swearing
    4. The fic often goes emo and mopes over the detrimental effects of having emotions, and vice versa, via the thoughts of Cyrus, Mesprit, Giratina, and Cynthia's actions


    Mostly, it's going to be messed up, and I'm probably going to get alot of people praising it merely out of its shock factor.

    Anyways, this is a rewrite of a fic that made me very popular at the Bulbagarden Forums. I wish I could upload the original thread, but I got permabanned, and I'd rather not remind myself of my shame by lurking over there.

    Here's the link to the (poorly formatted) FF.net form: Link

    I'm making this much better than that, but the events of Cynthia's journey are still key to the fic, especially explaining how Cynthia got all those rare, perfectly IV and EV trained Pokemon, a feat only accomplished by Joey and his Ratatta, as of HGSS.

    Also, there are parts of the fic that take concepts from Champion Game by dragon user x, and Lull by Breezy.

    And there are a few Fakemon in this, such as Miccrow and Flis, which are pretty much teeny-tiny, uncatchable Pokes.

    Without further ado, here is the actual piece of writing:



    TARNISHED GOLD:
    THE STORY OF CYNTHIA

    By
    The_Noob



    PROLOGUE



    Sevii Ocean, somewhere near Unova. July 12, 2010. 9:35 AM.


    A gentle sea breeze blew a giggling Hoppip across the tropical warm sea as they spied into the ocean, looking at titanic schools of Micrrow that swarmed the light turquoise depths of the sea. The creatures themselves were no more than a thirty-fourth-inch long, and looked like tiny fish with proboscis and teeny legs, and swarmed by the trillions before a couple of Wailords and their Wailmer children appeared from the depths, devouring them and making them scatter.

    Hoppip lolled about in the air, fully entranced by the site of the scattering Micrrow shining beneath the waves, with the sun reflecting off their bodies, when a Wailord’s discharge of water shot high into the air and smacked the little flying ragweed into a rather rough thermal, which tossed its body about, smacking it into a pack of Altaria and Swablu who were posing as clouds to catch their prey. The birds, sensing that food was near, snatched up Hoppip.

    The ragweed screamed in horror as the blue dragon looked upon its prey. The Altaria, disappointed in its catch, alerted his pack with a sharp warble, and dropped Hoppip, not without accidentally tearing the floating ragweed’s wing with one of its claws. Now unable to fly correctly, the Hoppip was left to fall to its death as the harsh winds sent it quickly to an unknown destination.

    The little ragweed tried to glide with its other wing, but that failed, and the leaf buckled and slapped it in the face, blinding it. “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” Hoppip screamed as it spun through the rough air, descending quickly to whatever it might hit. Within a few seconds of horror, the creature hit the ground. With a harsh splash, Hoppip landed in a small pond of clear water, the force of impact enough to force its wings off its body.

    “Squeh?” Hoppip squeaked, realizing it was alive. It took the Pokemon a few minutes to fully come to, and when it did, it weakly padded out of the water, climbing onto a few concrete steps, and onto a plastic chair. Sighing, the wounded creature fell asleep.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    10:00 AM, Bamboo Orchid Island, somewhere in the Sevii Ocean.

    Roserade walked out of the sliding glass door, and out to the inground pool. She soaked up the hot sun, and smiled warmly at it, strolling towards a plastic lounging chair, which she sat on. “SKIII!!” The chair screamed, startling Roserade, who jumped to her feet and looked at what she sat on. The half-dead Hoppip stared at Roserade, with a sleepy expression in its eyes. Roserade smiled pleasantly and sprinkled some sweet powder onto the Hoppip, who breathed it in soundly.

    Of course, then the little creature realized it couldn’t breathe out. Hoppip had been paralyzed. Now, the horrified little Pokemon could only watch in horror as the Roserade began dissecting its now useless body with her claws.

    After he was torn apart, Hoppip, who was now barely alive, was dragged inside the house by one of his entrails, which was bleeding green chlorophyll. The room was dark, for the windows had been covered by the shades, and an evil presence could be felt. Roserade picked up the nearly disemboweled ragweed, who now had nearly no skin on his body, and threw it into the air like a sling. From out of the darkness, Hoppip was snatched up in a pair of sharp-toothed jaws, killing it quickly before the beast swallowed it whole. With a roar, it shot a pillar of fire in the air, revealing its bipedal form and fin-like hands, dimly illuminated in orange light, standing out in the blackness.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Meanwhile, in a bedroom in same house.

    Inside the dark house, a tropical breeze broke through a window that was not properly blinded, and the wind blew through a woman’s long, flowing blond hair. Her face was a grim, tight frown, which was unfitting on her tall face.

    She was standing on her knees, watching a little boy sleep. Her eyes, a bleak grey, examined his form, which she had unclothed during the middle of the night. The bed sheets, a black, voluminous mass on the already gigantic bed, had been parted away from his little body.

    In the shadow of the slight sunbeams, the woman decided to get a closer look at the child, who began to turn a little as she did, making a slight moan in his sleep. Silently, she slid her fingers through the child’s messy and uncombed hair, a few shades lighter than her own, smiling slightly; however, her steely expression, did not.

    After an hour or so of petting the little boy’s hair, she put her hand down on the bedding next to the little boy’s body, accidentally placing it on a small stain from the night before. However, she didn’t mind. She was too enthralled in staring at the little boy’s body.

    Six hours later, another breeze came through the window, and the child’s eyes, a strange shade of brown, opened up.

    “Miss Cynthia…. Emm… what are you doing?” He asked, noting that Cynthia had been standing over him, her face grimly beautiful. Another breeze rolled in, and he noticed he was not wearing any underpants, obviously remembering falling asleep with them on.

    The woman didn’t change her expression or stance, but instead looked into the little boy’s eyes, her grim look freezing him into place, “I was just… watching you, Barry, my dearest. You look so precious when you sleep,” She said calmly, her voice smooth and cold, almost seeming to echo in the dark, empty room, “And you were such a good boy last night, so very cooperative. Your little friend, Dawn, always fights me a little when we have our time together; I don‘t think she enjoys it as much as you do.”

    Barry blushed, and looked away a little, he felt awkward whenever Cynthia brought up what she called ‘special time’, or ‘time together’. He didn’t know why, but as much as he didn’t like to think of the odd feelings he always felt on those nights, he couldn’t help but love them.

    Getting off the bed to get something out of his suitcase, which he had brought for the flight over, Barry did not notice that Cynthia’s eyes began to change colors in surreal ways, with green spirals forming in her now purple sclera. As he sat down, and pulled his underwear onto him, not turning around to witness the glorious sight of Cynthia’s hair beginning to spin and ominously change color as well.

    Still blissfully unaware of what was happening behind him, he picked up a small phone, a PokeGear, and dialed a number. His movements became a little more erratic, and whatever calmness he reserved for his visits with the beautiful woman went away.

    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Twinleaf Town, Sinnoh. 4:15 PM.

    A cold wind, crisp and snowy, rippled across the sky on what was yet another perpetually wintry day in Twinleaf, a tiny lakeside cul-de-sac with a population of ten.

    “Ding-ding! Ding-ding!” Came the familiar ring of Dawn’s phone from her pocket.

    The 11-year-old girl, who was sitting outside on the flowery grass with her mother, picked up the phone and stuck it to her ear, bringing onto her the irritating sound of Barry’s voice.

    “Oh, h-, h-, hai Dawn. How’re ya doin’?” Barry jittered out awkwardly.

    “Well. I think you’d know. We live 20 feet away from each other anyways.” Dawn muttered, slightly annoyed. Ever since winning the title of Champion, she had lost all patience with Barry’s inability to pay attention for more than ten seconds, unless in the presence of a very attractive female; Dawn sadly being the only one who did not get this special treatment from him.

    “Oh, heheh, alrighty then, I’m at Cynthia’s house, just woke up,” Barry spat out quickly, with many quick pauses in between some words, quite obviously mentioning Dawn and Barry’s monthly visits to Bamboo Orchid Island.

    “Did you-” Dawn whispered, a little more peeved now at the thought of the jumpy idiot who had bugged her most of her life, with her Cynthia.

    “Uhuhh… Heeheheh… Yeah, she bzchzhzhzhzhzhvhzhzhzchzchz…” Barry chortled out as the phone line seemed to short circuit and go to static before a click silenced the call altogether.

    Dawn’s mother looked across, slightly intrigued by the frustration in her child’s voice. The preteen gave a vague, “It was nothing, mom,” and went on listening to static.

    “Communication errors. Eh.” Dawn said as she bumped the phone against her fist a few times, trying to make it work while her mother was looking her general direction, causing her to feel slightly anxious, if not embarrassed. Noise began to come out the phone again after a while. “Hello?” She inquired, expecting Barry’s annoying voice. However, what came next was completely different.

    “HELLO DAWN” came Cynthia’s voice, barely as calm as usual, but instead a whirl of many other voices echoing upon each other, with a much louder one sounding vaguely like the Champion’s.

    “Mi.. Miss Cynthia?” Dawn mumbled, a little afraid of what she heard, “What’s wrong?”

    “NOTHING DEAREST” Came the voice of ‘Cynthia’, “I’M PERFECTLY FINE

    “You don’t sound it.” Dawn said. It was no use, however. The line was dead.

    Dawn’s mother caught a look of Dawn’s worried face, and faced her. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” She cooed.

    “Something’s wrong with Miss Cynthia,” Dawn said, worried a little, “I’m gonna go to her house and see what’s wrong.”

    The girl took a round, red-and-white sphere from her belt and threw it to the ground, flashing and then revealing the form of her Pidgeot, which she had trained for a few battles at the Battle Frontier a few months ago. With a few whitstles, she commanded it to allow her on her back and fly.

    The bird reluctantly let her go on, and bucked her off a few times. However, Dawn pardoned her mother's worried gasps and 'are you alright dear?'s. It had happened many times when she first trained her prized Staravia to fly her places, along with her Altaria, so she was quite used to it. With an angered look on its face, the bird finally took off at its species infamous supersonic speeds.

    Dawn’s mother sat in the grass and looked up at her daughter, riding the bird, flying away into the sunny sky. ‘I wonder why that woman’s so important to Dawn.’ She queried obliviously to herself as she stared into the light-blue sky and the fluffy clouds that hung in its vast cold space.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Bamboo Orchid Island. After Barry’s last transmission.

    Cynthia, her body twisted into an awkward position that had probably broken many of her bones, took her hand off Barry’s mouth, letting him slump to the ground and impulsively cough out a little black smoke. However, he was not dead, but instead in some sort of trance, and breathing at an unnaturally fast pace.

    Her face fully turned into what looked like a swirling mass of hair, similar to a galaxy of some sort, shining platinum-blonde but shaded a slight dark purple, with green orbs swirling in it that so resembled her strange, surreal eyes and mouth, the woman stood up to full height, caressing the large, dangling pendant between her breasts, which now had a strange design, two dots and a few stripes, glowing upon it.

    She was no longer Cynthia, but Spiritomb.

    ****

    R&R, please! Due to, shall we say, complications, updates will be... few and far inbetween at best.

    Table of Contents:

    Prolouge (above)
    Chapter I (below)

  2. #2

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    I have no mercy, for I have double-posted my first day here.

    If anyone is confused by the ending of the prolouge, this should clarify it.

    Also, the asterisks scattered around were glitches caused by the original uploading from iPod Touch's Notepad app.

    Enjoy.

    Chapter I

    -------------------------------
    Over the Sevii Ocean. Late afternoon.*

    Pidgeot rushed across the sky as Dawn held onto its soft, tanned feathers, peering down at the crashing waves beneath. Today was not a good day for flying, as a harsh jet-stream gale would tell you.

    As they became more proficient at maneuvering a Pokémon across the sky, trainers who flew birdback or by dragon on a regular basis knew the air currents just as well as anything that could fly. The winds today, however, put rocks in Dawn's stomach.*

    "I need to help Cynthia..." The child murmured as Pidgeot angrily carked, having dodged a hapless Altaria with a cry that would translate to a cab driver in a crowded city street quickly getting out of his car and giving a reckless driver a middle finger and a "The **** were ya' doin'?" in his harsh Bronx accent.*

    Pidgeot could'nt have had it worse today. He wanted to buck the little kid off him and end it there so he could get a mate and act like a real Pidgeot for once. Thoughts like this were the effects of having been flying for 36 hours, and he had had to put up with Dawn's airsickness ruining his plumage, a bunch of retarded seabirds and ragweed, and the harsh gales that big Pokémon hiding behind a few clouds was....

    'Wait...'Pidgeot thought to himself, 'How did I just notice him? That big red-white-n'-blue galoot's been stalking me for this whole time an' been makin' my flight all ******! I'mma give 'im a piece'a my...'

    Ironically, Pidgeot gave him a piece of his mind, for just as his last thoughts went through his head, so did the talons of a very large, very vicious red-white-and-blue bird-of-prey.

    Dawn, shellshocked and holding on for dear life, climbed onto the monster's back in a scrambling, death-defying motion (considering she performed the endeavor two miles above sea level), and clung on even harder for dear life than when birdbacking Pidgeot.

    For there was a chance she would share Pidgeot's fate, the girl thought to herself, or die a worse one.

    She was beginning to wonder whether she would be able to help her lover with whatever had happened to her.

    -------------------------------
    Bamboo Orchid Island. Earlier that day. Within Cynthia Shirona's mind.

    Cynthia began to think to herself. That was always how she started conversations with Spiritomb:

    'So, how are things today, my friends?' She queried within her mind.

    'GOOD.', a hundred or so assorted voices answered back, 'YOU HAVE DONE WELL, CHILD. BY DAY'S END, THE LITTLE GIRL AND BOY WILL BE OURS. WE CAN SPARE YOU FOR NOW. AS USUAL.' Spiritomb always loved toying with the woman, something Cynthia had gotten used to.

    'Ah, yes, my friends, that's good,' Cynthia replied, 'but, I need to draw the girl here so that you can...'

    'CONSUME HER.' Spiritomb screamed back, finishing the sentence. As this was said, a strong flash of light penetrated the darkness Cynthia always saw when talking to Spiritomb.

    -------------------------------

    Meanwhile, same place. Outside of Cynthia's mind.

    She woke up with a start, her eyes flitting around in a cold sweat. Cynthia had found that having Spiritomb manifest itself from within her for very long drained on her physically. Of course, this didn't mean she shouldn't wrench herself off Barry's body.

    She had never liked the 11-year-old, who rarely ever felt much when she touched his scrawny, jumpy body. And whatever mental problems he had made it hard to do anything with him. But, the fact he was a boy meant he was guillible, far more than Dawn, or any other female child, so she kept him.

    "Sweet dreams, Barry" She whispered bitterly into an irresponsive ear, patting the child's profusely sweating carcass, whose violently fast breathing would end as soon as his conscience was assimilated into Spiritomb. In her reign as Champion, Spiritomb had absorbed at least six people into it, three of which were young girls she lured to their demise.

    As the tall, gaunt woman callously stuffed Barry in his suitcase, after poking a hole or two, which his small, limp body easily allowed for, and slid the bag under the huge bed, Spiritomb probed the woman's thoughts once more.*

    Although Spiritomb was of many minds, it could never recollect as one, so memories were lost all the time. As such, the demons always had to rely on their host for linear thinking and recalling memories.

    Cynthia, though, had oddly choppy memories, so she was not reliable. Outside of Spiritomb's snaking in and out of her mind, Cynthia was dressing into her usual black morning gown, her stomach rumbling for whatever she felt like making for breakfast.

    'I have all the time in the world to..' Cynthia thought to herself, when she realized something clicked within her thoughts, so to say. She cringed in disgust.

    Now, Cynthia had never liked feeling emotions after Spiritomb had possessed her. 'Those were for the weak', she'd remind herself, 'it's why I'm better than the children I molest and kill.'

    'WE HEARD YOU.' Spiritomb stated from within her mind.

    'Not even safe in my thoughts, am I?' Cynthia mumbled to Spiritomb mentally, 'Not as long as you're leeching off my soul! Will you ever stop?'

    'NOT UNTIL YOUR SOUL IS AS BLACK AS MINE WAS WHEN I CREATED US.' The most dominant and ancient voice in Spiritomb said.

    'Yes, yes, and it nearly is. I'm quite proud of it actually.' Cynthia told the leader of the hive mind, 'But what are you pestering me about now?'

    'THE MEMORY THAT NEARLY MADE YOU CHOKE ON THIN AIR, CYNTHIA.' Spiritomb bellowed, and the woman replied, on cue, 'You mean, when I was really little and...'

    'and...'

    'WHAT?'

    'I can't trust you. You're going to kill me and absorb me, aren't you?'

    'NO. YOUR TRIBUTE WILL BE ENOUGH FOR NOW.'

    'Good.'

    'SO TELL ME.'

    Cynthia, in the physical world, slouched into a squat-sit pose against her dresser and prepared to have what little was left of her human emotions destroyed. It was Spiritomb's specialty.

    'When I was little, I...'

    -------------------------------
    Celestic Town, Sinnoh. May 13, 1979.*

    A hot sun shone over the usually foggy and frigid old town. Days like this were Gible's favorites.

    "Gurgle gurgle", the little, sharklike creature grumbled, staring nonchalantly at her friend as she slowly closed and reopened her jaws over her face.

    Gibles, especially Cynthia's, are stereotypically awkward, as attitude around humans go. They stare blankly, and open and close their mouthes slowly, often slowly walking towards food, only to slowly eat it. Some people find Gible to be more frightening than Garchomp, as the usually quiet and slow dragons can suddenly become intensely vicious and fast around other Pokemon, which worries those that find their Gible friends staring at them from across their room during the middle of the night.

    Cynthia, however, was not afraid of her Gible, and a warm little smile spread across her face as she opened large grey eyes to the inside of her pet's mouth. She giggled cutely and pulled the landshark off her face, whose pudgy, seagreen limbs and tail accented cyan stripes, a red underbelly, along with odd structures on either side of her head.

    Cynthia, still in her pajamas, patted the top of Gible's head.

    "So, Miss Gible," she said in a sort of way that was almost baby talk as she went to get a bag of feed from her kitchen, "How long were you watching over me last night?"

    Over the course of three minutes, Gible opened and closed her mouth twelve times. Cynthia had come to learn that this meant the amount of hours Gible had kept watch, and thus, the length of time she had been asleep. The landshark kept the same, unmoving and unblinking position throughout this process, arms slightly akimbo of its body, and eyes unwavering.

    "Are you hungry?" Cynthia asked, tossling her shoulder-length blond hair and putting on a pink T-shirt with a heart over her naked chest. At age nine, the little girl often slept topless, having no real breasts, so she had no need for a bra. A pair of blue jeans went on next, and she trekked over to a nearby kitchen downstairs to get Gible's food.

    When she entered the smallish room where huge racks and shelves kept titanic amounts of spice jars filled with strange ingredients, such as Vileplume's Powder (a powerful sedative, aphrodisiac, and laxative), pickled Sawsbuck ***** (which has a strange ability to cause huge bursts of libido), and aged Oran berries in Psyduck blood (which has an all-encompassing taste) to name a few.

    Those, however, were the higher racks, about ten to fifteen feet (3 and 1/3 to 5 meters, for those using the metric system) up, and required her grandmother's ladder to reach. Due to the height of the shelves, a few of the antique spices could be three hundred years old, if not older. Of course, what Cynthia was looking for was much less bizzare, exotic, or rustic. She was looking for the lower east end of the kitchen, which had a cabinet full of more contemporary foods, such as candies and cereals, and a fridge full of meat, drink, and, on special occasions, ice cream, a favorite treat of Cynthia's.*

    The little girl got out Gible's plain, plastic food bowl and put it on the floor, getting out a bag of dragon Pokemon food and pouring some in. She had some trouble holding the heavy bag, but there was no spills. As usual, Gible came out of the room adjacent to the kitchen, and slowly plodded over to food.

    With Gible preoccupied with eating, Cynthia patted the creature's fin and ambled to a couch in the living room, feeling a little tired, as most people did in the morning. Subconciously, she turned on the house television, and suddenly became excited.

    Her mother was battling a challenger!*

    Ever since she had been born, Cynthia had known her estranged mother only in photographs and televised battles. She was the regional Champion of Sinnoh, and had defended her title for twenty-five years, specializing in the powerful ice Pokemon that the cold land harbored.

    From what she had seen of her mother was a tall, thin woman who wore a stately white fur coat, which easily contrasted her short jet-black hair, dark blue eyes, and blood-red lips, but blended in with her pale skin. She stood proudly with little pity in her eyes as she fought opponents of all kinds. It was awe-inspiring for a child her age.*

    All her life, the child had wanted to defeat her mother, and take her title, like any sensible Pokemon trainer who wants to conquer their home region's Elite Four.

    But, she was caught in the moment of watching her mother pull out a Pokeball, and begin what would likely be a momentous battle.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile. Lily-of-the-Valley Stadium.

    Sofi, the Champion of Sinnoh, rolled up the sleeves of her robe and stared at her opponent with a cold, vicious look.

    The challenger was the most powerful of the Elite Four, the journalistic steel Pokemon specialist, Snapper, whose nickname came from, obviously, his knack for snapping unwanted pictures of people.

    He dressed in a stately purple suit with a red frill between the collar, a black undershirt, and his favorite camera slung round his neck. His oversized, eager smile was framed by equally extravagant thick-lensed glasses, over-combed, greasy brown hair and a face too small for his expression.

    He held a Pokeball out, his expression slowly becoming more sly, and he yelled, in his obnoxious, heavily accented voice, "Alright, baby, let's see what you've got!"

    Sofi scowled in disgust, knowing why that insensitive sexist pig was battling her today. Snapper was always looking for a way to become Champion, whether it be through compromising photos of her emaciated, tattoo-covered body, attempting to beat her in combat (battles he constantly lost), or trying to get the Elite Four to believe she was going to cut their pay for battling trainers. Today's latest bit of childish conniving from the photographer fit into the second category of annoyances, thankfully.*

    "I think I'll start, love," he snickered snidely, quickly throwing *a Pokeball containing an exotic Unovic Pokemon of his, Ferrothorn.

    "GOWAAN." It bellowed loudly and shakily as it used the three spikeballs at the end of its tentacles to move across the floor of the white porcelain stadium. Its metallic grey body was covered in harsh spikes, with an almond-like shape to the core of its body, and similar structures existed on the ends of its limbs. It had large, emotionless yellow eyes, and flourescent green tentacles, which matched the color of a stripe at the middle of its core.

    As it slowly plunked along on three spikeballs, it began to exude dark purple mist, and was moving slower, as its eyes began to fill with vicious intent. "That's Curse, folks," Ferrothorn's trainer screamed loudly and smugly at the excited audience, much to Sofi's annoyance. "You see, as Ferrothorn starts moving slower, his attacks become increasingly more potent, and he can take far more hits, as if he wasn't good enough at that."

    Sofi decided to finish it very quickly, before Snapper got on her nerves, and so sent out her powerhouse, Frosslass, for whom the crowd went wild. Frosslass was infamous for taking out extremely formidable teams within seconds with her indomitably powerful Ice Beam and Shadow Ball, and the fact that she could make herself imossible to hit in whatever snowstorm the equally famous Abomasnow could conjure.

    Frosslass squealed hauntingly, and cheers buzzed from the crowd. As usual, Sofi scowled at the sheer desperation her people had to see her battle, it was as if they were simple and easily entertained as a retarded Bidoof.

    Frosslass decided to begin using one of her signature moves, Double Team, to taunt her sluggish enemy, quickly vanishing and reappearing. 'I should have sent out Abomasnow first. If that ******* gets a lucky shot with that disgusting creature of his, I'll lose everything. Everything.' Sofi thought to herself as hundreds watched with baited breath. The camera crew zoomed in patiently on the action, and Sofi, knowning how to work the crowd, used a hand gesture, a silent command that meant to charge up a Dark Pulse, a debilitating move that both wowed the crowd and rendered the opponent too terrified to fight.*

    Frosslass' eyes began glowing with black light and dark aura, which radiated throughout her body and exploded into a black cloud of hallucinogenic gas, propelled by aura power. The effect of the discharge came twofold: the psychotropic drugs would cause the victim to become terrified of whatever it sees, which is quite effective in a large stadium full of seething crowds, and the wave of power that propelled the gas would do decent damage to its target.

    Ferrothorn, however, had other ideas. It polarized its metal shell with an electromagnetic burst of energy, which sent the creature flying into the air, which enabled it to dodge the Dark Pulse, and thusly deliver a crushing blow to the head of the kimono-wearing ghost's head, and Sofi's most powerful fighter hit the floor, much to the Champion's terror, who watched on as the crowd cheered for the surprisingly powerful Ferrothorn.*

    An unseen announcer, loud and charismatic, boomed: "The Champion's invincible Frosslass is down! This could be the end of an era, folks! Sofi now has five Pokemon left to fight, and our challenger, Snapper of the Elite Four has six! Who will win?"

    The camera crew decided that this would be a good time to cut to commercials, to amp up the suspense of anyone watching their television.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Celestic Town.

    Gible stared at the television nonchalantly, not minding its owner's vicegrip on her as she watched the commercials in horror. Her mother's best battler had been knocked out. Never before in her nine years had she seen Frosslass take any more than a few hits.

    If her mother lost this battle against the arrogant challenger, she would be shattered. How could she not be the Champion?*

    In order to ease her worry, the little girl ran out to her grandmother's garden in the back of her house, going through a door left of the room she was in.

    "Grandma! Grandma! Come in! Come in!" Cynthia yelled.

    "What is it?!" Came her grandmother's yell. The woman, who was at least seventy, was tending her garden of tall Yache bushes, which could be harvested to make potent, albeit bitter, medicines, and the berries they made were valuable for resident dragon trainers who were often faced with fighting ice Pokemon users, or ice attacks in general. The old woman, however, usually smoked the leaves as an aphrodisiac.

    At this point during the late spring, the plants were probably almost ready for harvest, as a few test smokes told her. Cynthia ran to her grandmother as fast as her little feet could take her and grabbed the old woman's leg as soon as she reached her, which required a little running through a thicket of Yache bushes.*

    "Grandma! Grandma!" She yelled again.

    "I'm right next to you, Cynthie, darling! What's wrong?" The old woman asked kindly, her voice gingerly, rough hands patting the little girl's head comfortingly.

    "Mommy's losing," The little girl said quietly, "One of the Elite Four knocked out Frosslass."

    Her grandmother grunted uncaringly and went back to working. "It was about time she came home, for once," the old woman kneeled down, knowning her granddaughter was still very worried, and put on her most caring tone possible, "I'm sorry about that, I think I was too harsh there. It's not that I don't care for battles," for a few seconds she switched to a joking tone, "Actually, I never did!"

    With a quick laugh, she relieved the tension, and then went back to her speech, her voice a little more grave, "I just want to see my daughter home again. I haven't seen your mother for much, much longer than you've even been alive! And remember, I'm old, and..."*

    She breathed out a little, not sure how to assess the next part of her speech, "And if I die, your mother would'nt give a passing thought about sending you to an orphanage. You know what that is, right? *the child nodded, looking off sadly and frowning a little* It's where they send little girls and boys who don't have parents, or grandmas."*

    Knowing the child's pain, she adopted a sweeter tone, giving her a kiss on the forehead with wrinkled lips, "But I'm not gonna let that happen, kiddo. Even if she wins and keeps us away from her until we both die. Now, let's go watch that battle! After all, it's not like these crops need to be harvested right now!" She yelled the last sentence in a joking tone, getting a laugh out of the little girl and scaring away a trio of thirty-something hippies who were smoking Yache leaves in an out-the-way corner of the field.

    Gible was still sitting on the couch when Cynthia and her grandmother walked in, the little girl eagerly dragging her compliant grandmother by the hand, and sat down. The battle was still going.

    "This is it!" The same announcer who had declared the defeat of Sofi's Frosslass boomed charismatically, "The Champion's recovered greatly since that crushing blow to Frosslass! We haven't seen such innovation from her since her initiation into the League, back when General Hellfire was Champion! Arceus rest his soul, he was a great man. Well, nostalgia aside, it's been great so far! After Abomasnow activated a snowstorm, it was almost shredded to pieces by Fereothorn, who took out Frosslass without a single denting! Of course, that Ferro also took a beating. Once Weavile took it out, Bronzong gave it quite a fight, even if it eventually was worn out by Night Slash! Skarmory's Drill-Peck-Steel-Wing combo got the best of Weavile and Cryogonal, but an innovative blitzing of ice and ground attacks from Mamoswine took down Skarmory! After that, Probopass' Pain Splits and Stone Edges made quick work of him, thanks to Sofi's overly agressive strategies! Of course, Walrein got a lucky shot via Sheer Cold, as usual, and took out that Probopass without a sweat!"

    The whole time, a B-Roll showing major parts of the battle played, with some dramatic music overlaying, and then it switched to live footage.

    "But, now, we are at a standoff against Sofi's Walrein and Snapper's Magnezone! If Walrein goes down, Sofi's left with Abomasnow, and Snapper will lose this exciting, monumental battle once 'Zone goes down! Remember folks, as a standard inter-E4 battle, no medicines can be used on fighters."

    Cynthia was completely electrified, *watching the television as closely as possible without blocking her grandmother's view, so she laid belly-down on the floor. The older woman was amused by her granddaughter's excitement, which was extreme to the point that Cynthia barely noticed Gible sitting nonchalantly on her head. Of course, she still had a deep feeling in her gut that whatever happened next would be of great importance.

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Lily-of-the-Valley Stadium.

    Sofi scowled angrily and stared down her opponent, who smiled smugly.

    "Your *** is mine," he stated snidely to his opponent, "But in a figurative sense. I don't like my fish freezerburnt. And you know what I mean." Promptly, a large running shoe was thrown at his head, coming from the eastern corner of the stadium.

    Its thrower, a druken, hairy man, got up from his seat and roared, with a heavy slur, "There are children here!"

    The large crowd began laughing quite loudly.

    Snapper quickly got angry, "YOU MESSED UP MY SUIT, YOU DAFT BLOODY ARSE!!"*

    Sofi, who remained unamused, took advantage of the situation, which had distracted even Magnezone.

    With a few hand gestures indicating that Walrein use the move Hail. Walrein began shooting mist and ice particles into the air, which formed clouds, and, within seconds, wind, thus creating a massive snowstorm, for Abomasnow's had died out after Mamoswine took a beating from Probopass. A protective glass shield quickly went up around Walrein and Magnezone, as so no one froze to death, suddenly isolating and intensifying the snowstorm Walrein belched out.

    Soon, the storm was harsh enough so that one could just barely see Magnezone and Walrein doing battle on their own accord. Currently they were tied, with Walrein deftly dodging Thunderbolts, and easily getting in damaging Frost Breath attacks, which involved breathing large clouds of icy wind from the user's mouth at high pressures, often in the victim's face, which the snowstorm made much, much worse. Magnezone's mighty Magnet Bombs, electromagnetically charged clusters of air, were much more effective when the spread out by harsh winds, as Walrein could get hit by a Magnet Bomb while avoiding a Thunderbolt.

    "That was cold of you, Sofi." Snapper yelled from across the stadium, and, while she couldn't see him, Sofi knew he was giggling at his own pun.

    "My pleasure." Came the Champion's cold, smooth voice, the first time she had spoken the whole battle. As soon as she spoke, Magnezone smashed against the glass at Snapper's side of the stadium, and the snowstorm subsided, revealing that Walrein had won the battle. The walrus bellowed loudly, and the protective glass was lowered.

    The Champion, once again victorious, retreated Walrein and gave Snapper an honorary handshake.

    "Good job, once again." He murmured, not out of supressed rage, but simple brevity.

    Both fighters walked away as if nothing happened.*

    -------------------------------
    Meanwhile, Celestic Town.

    An announcer came on the television: "This has been a landmark in battling history! Never before has Sofi faced such heavy opposition! Perhaps the next challenger of the Pokemon Leauge here on Lily-of-the-Valley Island will best her in the ring of honor? We'll find out soon!"

    Cynthia was dancing in pure excitement, hugging Gible, who still had the same bored look on her face as before.

    Her grandmother smiled warmly, but then quickly grabbed her granddaughter's arm and hushed her.

    "Look," she said, pointing to the television.

    A clip of Sofi ascending to a podium bristling with microphones was shown:

    "The Champion will now be making a speech."

    "People of Sinnoh," she began, her voice sounding icy and emotionless as ever, "I would like to announce today that I will be going on hiatus for a year to train my Pokemon. This battle today has shown me that I am not yet as strong as I can possibly be, so I have decided that I must return home, and make myself that way. In my place, during my leave, will be Elite Four member Snapper. Furthermore, I will be unavaliable for public interview during my training, which will officially begin at five o'clock in the afternoon of this day. Goodbye."

    She silently stepped down from the podium, and dissapeared as Snapper, thoroughly surprised, as fogged up glasses would tell, walked up to the podium, unused to being the one in the limelight, as a journalist himself.

    Cynthia's grandmother was crying tears of joy at the realization her daughter had come back home, and the little girl was intensely overcome with joy at the idea of meeting her mother at last.

    -------------------------------
    July 13, 2009. Bamboo Orchid Island. Easternmost beach. 11:45 PM, SUIST (Seviian-Unovic Island Standard Time).

    It had been hours since Dawn had been dropped by whatever had killed Pidgeot. None of her things had been damaged, but she was terrified now. She knew it was waiting for her to slip up, and was too frightened to fall asleep. She had seen it a few times before, earlier that day.

    She hadn't moved for five hours now, something she had learned from being stalked in the wild, cold land around Snowpoint City.

    Looking up at the sky, she barely noticed that something was sneaking up behind her.

    Or, more applicably, someone.

    ****

    Thank you for reading!

    Some little author's notes:

    Snapper = Austin Powers.

    B-Roll is a broadcast term for silent footage of something. In news, a voice is usually taped over said footage.

    Also, the phrase 'all the time in the world' makes its debut in Chapter II.

  3. #3
    oh so that spiritomb that tried to nose **** me was cynthia all along

    wat

  4. #4

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    Someone cares.

    You are the greatest human being alive.

  5. #5
    not that this is particularly good or anything but since i didnt find the words "sweatdrop" or "facefault" it gets 1/5

    also when did snypar write fanfiction

  6. #6

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    He's been writing it since the internet was invented bro.

    Like this.

  7. #7
    i don't even know what thats from

    but no tentacles so 0/1,000,000

  8. #8

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    I can hack it and add tentacles.

  9. #9
    okay so after the magic of wikipedia i discover this is in fact from sailor moon

    snypar ಠ_ಠ

  10. #10

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    He simply has no taste.

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