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Old 01-07-2010, 05:49 PM
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Default Razor's Edge [WWC]

Razor’s Edge

Well, here it is, the first chapter of my “catch one of every Mon” story. This thing has been sitting in my flash drive for ages, so I figured I’d get off my lazy butt and at least finish the first chapter. I’m not sure exactly how often this will be updated, as I don’t really have the time to do stories and take people through the Park, but I figure if I go after smaller Pokemon at first I can keep it going at a somewhat reasonable rate.

And heh, I’m entering this chapter for the WWC, which I wasn’t really planning on entering, but decided to because all this chapter needed was a battle before it was done. Yay super procrastination!

Also, I’d be happy if people would like to leave comments in my story, instead of posting them in the Feedback thread.


Entry One: This Is How It Began

I stared across the icy expanse at my targets, feeling my body tingling painfully from the vicious, scouring wind of the open tundra. Of course the little brown-furred pig and its companion, the black-barked, white-topped tree, were completely unaware of the cold, but my fragile human body was quickly succumbing. I told myself I’d been stupid to come all the way out here for these things, that I should have tried to snag them from weak Trainers or something. But really, I was getting tired of playing good guy/bad guy to get the Pokemon Jake kept sending me to fetch. I was tired of stealing loved companions or killing innocent creatures. I wanted to go about this the fair way, the decent way. Jake shouldn’t care how I got the damned things anyway, so long as I got them before each deadline.

“Soooool,” Sakura growled, her white fur fluffed up against the cold. She, too, was feeling it badly. Her fur wasn’t made to hold up against this kind of extreme weather. As another blast of sub-arctic wind howled around us and stung the already scorching skin of my face, my faithful Absol took a single step forward. Despite her fierce shivering, despite the horrible person I’d become, despite everything, she was still as loyal and ready to serve me as ever.

How did I get like this? How did we end up in this reverse hell, slowly freezing to death while the Swinub and Snover several yards away watched us with uncaring disdain? As I hunkered over and tried to keep my teeth from chattering together, the skies opened with a sudden downpour of heavy white snow.

“All right, Sakura,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever in my seventeen years. “Let’s get this over with…”


I was only nine years old when it happened.

It was about a month before my tenth birthday. I’d already gotten my Starter, a rambunctious Absol puppy given to me by my grandfather. She was spunky and more energetic than a Ninjask high on Pixie Stix and Mountain Dew, and I loved the white ball of fluff more than I would have ever imagined. Grandpa explained that the Absol’s high energy level came from her genes, which also caused her to be an albino. From her claws to the wicked, scythe-like blade growing from the right side of her face, she was white as fresh baby powder. Her eyes, like a true albino’s, were a reddish-pink hue. I named her Sakura, because back then, her eyes reminded me of cherry blossoms for some reason.

The evening it happened, Sakura and I were tumbling around in the small, fenced backyard. The freshly-cut grass was warm against my bare feet, and the air was thick with the smell of mowed lawn. Night had just fallen and street lamps were clicking on, flooding the empty black streets with harsh orange light. The sky was a dusky blue, bordering on the complete midnight-blue of nighttime, and the waning moon was a silver crescent shard. There were hardly any stars; in the city, there was too much pollution to see many stars, no matter how clear the sky was. Speaking of clear skies, there were only a few thin, scraggly gray clouds in the sky that night.

It was around eight o’clock, which was my curfew. We didn’t live in the safest of neighborhoods, and it was actually a bit of a shock that my parents let me stay outside as late as they did to begin with. Sakura was beginning to get tired, her puppyish energy flagging as she rolled around in the grass. When she stood, grass clippings were stuck all over her, and in a few places her pristine white fur was stained light emerald. I sighed heavily as I walked over to the young Pokemon, who was only about a foot tall. She barely came up to my knees, and I was a tall boy at nine years old; nearly five feet tall.

“Sakuraaaa,” I moaned softly, kneeling down to swipe grass from her silky fur. Every time I petted her, I was struck with the image of stroking a satin dress or something. Her red-pink eyes stared somberly into my storm-gray ones as she leaned against my lanky body, enjoying the attention. “Don’t get cute with me, girlie. I didn’t want to have to give you a bath tonight, but look at you! You’ve gotten yourself all grassy and stained.”

“Sol!” Sakura piped, sounding amused. At first I thought she was just teasing me about having to give her a bath, but then she pulled away from me and I saw a big patch of green all over my pale tan shirt and white jean shorts.

“Sakura, you little devil!” I yelled in mock anger. I stood and waved my arms, stamping the ground in shaking my head. “It’s not bad enough you get yourself dirty, but then you get me dirty, too?!”

“Ab absol ab!” Sakura yapped playfully, trotting around me and gently whacking her horn against my back and sides, and my butt, in several places. “Sol, sol, sol,” she said, punctuating each smack. I knew she was pointing out stains from our earlier tumbling bout and heaved a resigned sigh.

“Fine, fine, I suppose I did get myself dirtier than what you did,” I told her, trying to sound as tragic as a nine-year-old with no acting experience can sound. “I’m a horrible child, I know.”

“Sol!” Sakura yipped, jumping against my back and knocking me to my knees. They scuffed against the ground a bit, but I wasn’t hurt. I rolled over on my back as Sakura pounced at me, sprawling across my stomach and using her horn to tousle my crazy, shoulder-length blonde hair. Then her horn got tangled and I had to spend a few minutes getting us free from each other.

“Joseph, get your butt inside!” came Dad’s voice. He wasn’t angry; this was his usual call for me to come in. I scrambled to my feet and dashed for the one-story house my family lived in. Father’s small frame was standing in the back doorway, outlined by the cheery yellow illumination of the kitchen light. I chuckled as I heard Sakura give an indignant yelp, which was quickly followed by the sound of paws pounding against the grass. She just barely managed to put on a burst of speed and charge past Dad, whom I barreled into with a laugh.

“Oof!” Dad grunted, staggering back a few steps to stay on his feet. He was about my height and weight, so it was easy for him to get knocked around by me. His thinning black hair was a bit wild from my collision with him, but his dark blue eyes held no irritation. Instead, he wrapped his muscular arms around me and lifted me into the air with a laugh of his own. Dad was short and kinda skinny, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have muscle tone.

“Sorry, Dad,” I said as he executed a 180 before putting me down.

“Oh, you’re fine,” the fifty-some year-old man replied, patting my head like I was a well-behaved puppy. “Come on, go get a shower and get dressed, we’ll be leaving soon.” I grinned in a stupid overexcited nine-year-old manner and rushed out of the modest little kitchen, with its pale gray tile floor and second-hand appliances. Sakura bounded along beside me as I passed through the dimly-lit hall that connected the kitchen to the dining room. There were had to slow down, so as not to scratch up the new hardwood floors that had been installed about a week ago. There was still the heavy scent of sawdust lingering, and I sneezed twice as I weaved my way around the large dining room table. It was ridiculously large for three people; Mom always said she got a big table so when guests came over, there’d be plenty of room for everyone to eat together. There were ten chairs placed around the table, all of them matching oak.

The dining room let out into another dimly-lit, hardwood floored hallway. This one hit a dead-end, splitting off to the left and right. On the left was a door-less entry way that led straight into the bathroom, branched left to my parents’ room, and right to my own. To the right of the terminated hallway I stood in was the living room. I didn’t pay any attention to any of the other rooms except mine, which I headed for with considerably less speed. The reason was simple; the soft but thin cream carpet was strewn with various objects; comics, manga, CD cases, books, toys (both mine and Sakura’s), a multitude of Pokemon-related things, and a pillow lying smack in the middle of the floor. I knew I’d have to clean the mess sooner or later. Preferably sooner, before I tripped on something and broke my neck.

I picked my way around the clutter and reached my giant queen-sized bed, which was pushed up against the pale tan wall across from my door. I glanced at the inspirational poster taped to the paint, a picture of a Skitty hanging from a wire and the words “HANG IN THERE!” printed under the picture in large black block letters. I didn’t know why the thing was supposed to be inspirational. I always felt bad for the Skitty, not inspired by its plight.

After staring at the poster, I focused on the task at hand. I grabbed my neatly folded clothes off my wrinkled white sheets and exited the room, heading to the bathroom to shower and change. Fifteen minutes later I was squeaky clean, smelling like Irish Springs soap and Crest toothpaste. I dried off and pulled on my clothes, which consisted of black cotton slacks, a white silk dress shirt, and a navy blue blazer that was made from some sort of velvet-like fabric. The clothes were all nice and soft, but they tended to get uncomfortably warm if I wore them for too long.

I left the bathroom and ignored the animated, happy babble of my parents, who were waiting for me in the living room. I returned to my bedroom and sat on my bed, grabbing the black socks that I’d left lying on it. Sakura jumped onto the pillow top mattress and sat beside me, wiggling all over in excitement. This would be her first pre-family reunion dinner party, and the little Absol always got hyperactive at the prospect of meeting new people.

“Geez, Sakura, give over,” I grumbled when she leaned heavily against my side. I gave her a gentle shove with my elbow, trying to get her out of the way so I could get my socks on. When I did, she surprised me by giving a faint whimper. I’d never heard her make such a sound before, and instantly I grew worried. She might still be a pup, yeah, and puppies can become upset if you don’t pay attention to them, but Sakura was never one to pout.

“Soooooool,” she whined, pressing against me again. I dropped the socks on the bed next to me and faced the trembling Absol. The moment I saw the scared expression in her wide, fearful eyes, I knew she was shaking with dread, not eagerness. Her fur was beginning to fluff, like a cat that had been badly spooked. I threw an arm around her neck and gave her a one-armed hug, trying to comfort her.

“Sakura, Sakura, everything’s all right. Are you getting nervous, maybe? No, you don’t get nervous…” Sakura gave another whimper, cowering against my side and shivering for all she was worth. As she shook and whined, I remembered what Grandpa had said about Absol when he gave me Sakura a few months ago. He’d told me they were special Pokemon, in that they could predict disaster and catastrophe. He told me that in the past, Absol who had sensed coming danger had warned humans who would be affected by it.

I’d never seen it before, but I knew without question that Sakura was predicting a tragedy.

“Sol!” she suddenly howled, lunging off the bed so fast she nearly sent me to the floor. She didn’t get far before there was a harsh banging at the front door. The young Pokemon came to a dead halt, shaking so hard I could visibly see her quaking from where I sat. She started whining again as Dad shouted for the person at the door to have some patience. The banging kept on for a second, then I heard the door slam open. There was a nanosecond of silence, and then Mom gave a shriek of surprise while Dad hollered, “Who the hell are you and what do you think you’re doing?!”

My socks completely forgotten, I jumped up from my bed and hurried to the door. In my haste I nearly tripped over several things, but I didn’t slow down. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. A stranger was in our house, a stranger had just barged in seconds after Sakura had foreseen some kind of calamity. It couldn’t be coincidence; Sakura had prophesied this, so it had to mean something awful was going on…

I had just reached the door, where Sakura was still frozen, when Mom screamed again. The sound was a note of pure, raw terror and pain, and it rooted me to the spot. I stumbled to a halt, feeling a powerful shudder work down my spine and a chill settle in my body. My stomach churned so much I felt like I’d be sick, and a cold, sticky sweat broke out all over me. The scream went on and on, and then Dad started screaming, too. That was what broke me out of my stunned haze. I’d never, ever heard my father make a noise like that, not even when his arm had been halfway bitten off by a Feraligatr a few years ago.

I darted from my bedroom into the hall, avoiding the wall that extended a few feet past my door and sharply turning the corner. The sight that greeted me-

-Red. Red everywhere, and so much of it. Red thick on the white carpet that Mom was anal about keeping spotless. Red sprinkled on the white suede couch and love seat. Red splattered on the glass-top steel coffee table.

I spotted movement to the right and then watched as Mom came into my line of vision. She fell heavily to the floor, her pretty white evening dress stained so dark with red it was almost black. Her long blonde hair was matted with red and stuck to her face. She writhed in a growing pool of red for a moment, and her last spasm caused something coiled and red-streaked to slid from her belly. Then she was still, her once lively electric blue eyes clouded and lifeless.

Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.

More screaming. Odd, Mom wasn’t moving and her mouth was mostly shut, so how could she still be screaming? Then the scream changed, warped, turned into a choking gurgle. Slowly, as if I were freezing or turning to stone, my head turned to find the source of the noise. I saw Dad, standing with a shell-shocked look on his pale face. His eyes were bulging and his mouth gaping open like a suffocating fish. There was something at his throat, something big and covered in black. It took my overwhelmed mind a moment to realize it was a fist. A huge fist, connected to a thick, muscular arm that terminated in a massive shoulder. I didn’t get to examine the stranger any further, because at that moment he wrenched his fist from Dad’s throat. Something long, thin, and covered in more red came away with the fist; a spray of red shot from the gouge left in Dad’s throat. He gurgled a few more seconds, then collapsed to the carpet. He didn’t thrash like Mom had, just fell and was still.

The man holding the knife flicked it, bringing my stupefied attention back to him. He was a bear of a man, tall and wide, wearing dirty blue jeans and a tattered brown leather jacket with no sleeves. Mangy brown hair hung to his jaw, and his blocky face, or at least the side I could see, was twisted into a monstrous leering grin.

As I stared at the man, something flew from the knife he was flicking and struck my left cheek. It was warm and wet, and I could feel it slowly running down my face. I lifted a hand that was trembling madly and wiped the back of it across my cheek. When I lowered my hand and looked at it, there was a red smear stretched across my skin.

A sound made me look up in time to see the man staring at me, his ugly features no longer grinning. He was staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. Then I realized he wasn’t looking at me, but to my left. Dumbly I followed his gaze and found Sakura standing next to me, her legs spread wide in an unsteady stance. Well, no wonder the man looked so shocked. Sakura could give anyone a start the first time they saw her.

Then the man gave a strangled sort of yell, and when I turned back to him he was running. I watched him until I could no longer see him, and when he was gone from sight, my gaze was viciously drawn back to the scene he’d left behind.

Red. Red. Red. Red. Red.



Mom with her stomach slashed open from groin to throat, her guts in a cooling heap on the floor next to her.

Dad with his ruined throat.

Both oozing still more blood, blood, blood…


On me.

I screamed, and that’s how they found me when the police arrived a few minutes later.
Paired with Shen, the most epic Bleach fan around :3
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Last edited by Dog of Hellsing; 01-07-2010 at 05:56 PM.
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Old 01-07-2010, 05:50 PM
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Default Re: Razor's Edge [WWC]

“Sakura, Flamethrower, and follow it with the strongest Night Slash you can muster!” I called, my voice hoarse from the cold that was turning my throat into so much raw meat. The snowy-furred canine, shaking from the bitter cold and beginning to show her exhaustion, opened her muzzle wide and clenched her stomach. After having learned the Flamethrower TM, the Absol had developed a special chemical sac next to her intestines. From this sac extended two tubes, one leading to each lung. The chemical mixture coated the lungs to protect them, and when Sakura inhaled the next second, the chemicals ignited, filling her lungs with scorching flames. They rocketed up her throat and out of her mouth, filling the air with harsh red-orange light and blessed heat. Moving too fast to burn the Absol’s throat or mouth, the flames of the attack screamed as they expanded, engulfing the dozens of long, dagger-like shards of ice that had been flying through the air.

The Flamethrower instantly melted the twin Ice Shard attacks, reducing them to steam. Snover and Swinub made sounds of fury, having expected Sakura to be too weak to counter such speedy attacks. I smiled grimly as the two dual-typed Pokemon leapt into action once more; Swinub began to stomp the frozen ground, causing small aftershocks to radiate from it. This resulted in rime-covered rocks being forced up through the earth, and once they were free, Swinub used primitive energy within its body to lift them into the air and heave them at Sakura. Snover hunkered over and shook its body, freeing several small, blue-green leaves from the tubular petals on its back. These hovered in the air motionlessly until Snover straightened and flung its arms forward, sending them scything through the air right behind Swinub’s attack.

I had my doubts that Sakura could use a single Night Slash, no matter how strong, to stop both the Ancientpower and Razor Leaf attacks and then damage their users. Despite this, I didn’t have the heart to recall her. I knew how much my faith and belief meant to her, especially since things had become as they were now. When your Trainer has a habit of abandoning Pokemon for not being strong enough, one needs to constantly be reassured one won’t end up homeless and struggling to survive. I did everything I could to make sure she realized I’d never leave her behind, but I knew the idea plagued her.

Cocking her head back, the Absol drew on her least dregs of energy, directing it to the wicked horn growing from the side of her head. The black protrusion took on a sickly purple glow, tendrils of Dark energy arching away to dance through the air before dissipating. The aura grew steadily outward, marking the strength of the attack, and it wasn’t long before the top of Sakura’s head was engulfed by the glow. Digging her claws deep into the air and snow for purchase, Sakura finally swung her head around with all the force she could summon.

A long, slightly-curved blade of power, stretching at least four feet from tip to tip, was thrown from the Pokemon’s horn. It spun forward, whistling shrilly, and collided with Swinub’s Ancientpower. The seven or so head-sized rocks were flung away with such force most of them shattered, sending razor-sharp pieces sinking into the ground. The Razor Leaf was caught next and simply disintegrated, unable to match the sheer power of Sakura’s Night Slash.

Realizing they were in trouble, the two Pokemon tried to evade the incoming attack. Snover, being the more mobile of the two, managed to throw itself to the ground just in time to avoid being blown away. Swinub, thanks to its stubby feet, was unable to move out of the way fast enough. Sakura’s attack caught it along the back and sent it tumbling about a foot, where the pig came to a halt on its left side.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that was also the end of Sakura’s energy. Breathing hard, the Absol stumbled a few steps to the left before collapsing to the icy ground, her sides heaving in and out. A faint whine came from her, nearly lost in the shrill howling of the wind around us, and I knew she was finished. With numb fingers, I fumbled her PokeBall from a pocket and held it towards her. Speaking low so she wouldn’t hear me, I mumbled, “Return, Sakura.” A beam of concentrated red light shot from the middle of the red-topped, white-bottomed sphere, striking Sakura’s back and quickly spreading to engulf her. The last sound I heard from her was a mournful groan, and then she was reverted to a red haze of energy. This was sucked back to the Ball, which I replaced with a heavy heart. Poor Sakura probably thought I was disappointed with her, and I could only imagine the horrible fate she must think herself resigned to because of it.

I pondered about what Pokemon to use now, watching as Swinub managed to get to its feet. Snover went to join it, apparently making sure it was all right, and both Pokemon turned to glare at me. Well, I couldn’t tell for Swinub, since everything but its pink nose was covered by its thick brown fur. No doubt they were cursing me for disturbing them, for driving them from their home and then setting upon them with vicious attacks. Several yards behind the Pokemon lay the cave I’d chased them from, and for a moment I longed for nothing more than to crawl in there, get out of this weather, and try to find a way to straighten out my life.

The moment passed when I remembered what would happen if I tried anything heroic, and I angrily grabbed a PokeBall at random. I released the creature inside, which turned out to be Fumo, my Ninetales. The cream-furred fox emerged in a blast of white light, which was lost in the near-blinding snow. Coming up to my waist at the shoulders, Fumo was a bit taller than your average Ninetales, but didn’t have any extra weight on his slender frame. With his long legs, it made him look uncoordinated and clumsy, but he was easily the most agile Ninetales I’d ever owned.

Fumo snarled in distaste, flicking the ginger-colored tips of his nine tails, when he realized what kind of environment he was in. He turned to glare balefully at me, clearly reminding me that he hated me enough when I wasn’t making him battle in these conditions. I met his rich chocolate gaze, refusing to be intimidated, and a second later the fox submitted. Growling loudly, he turned from me to see Swinub and Snover, both of whom were taking the lull in action as a chance to escape.

“Don’t let them get away,” I told Fumo in a bland voice, one devoid of all emotion. Sakura was the only one I showed any affection or compassion; I couldn’t risk getting attached to my other Pokemon, so I remained distant and aloof with them. “Use a Quick Attack to get in front of them, then a Fire Spin to melt the ice and snow around them. While they’re disoriented by the steam, power up a Dark Pulse and hit whoever you see first afterward.”

Growling resentfully, Fumo tensed his muscles, then flew forward in a creamy blur of movement. His paws kicked up little clods of snow, leaving prints that looked too big to have come from him thanks to how fast he was moving. Within seconds he turned sharply to the left, sliding to a halt about a foot away from the others. They drew up, not having expected to be attacked again, and were too surprised to counter when Fumo blew a bright yellow streamer of fire towards them. Instead of going straight, though, it curved to the left, burning through the snow and ice on the ground and filling the air with steam as it wrapped around my targets. This not only confused the two by obscuring their view with steam, but the heat from the attack, along with the super-heated steam itself, would help wear the two down all the more. It wouldn’t be long before they had to succumb from weakness; they’d been battling as hard and long as Sakura, and both lacked the stamina of an Absol.

Acting quickly, before the onslaught of freezing wind blew the steam away, Fumo craned his jaws open wider and started to charge his Dark Pulse. Most non-Dark Pokemon drew on dormant Dark energy within their bodies for this attack, but I was pretty sure Fumo powered it with his hatred for me. I’d obtained him as a Vulpix, after battling his mother to near-death and then turning her over to Jake. I hadn’t felt bad about it then, but I deeply regretted it now. If I didn’t have to retain this façade of the heartless bastard I would try my best to reconcile with the fox, but that was hopeless wishing.

Darkness that seemed to absorb all the immediate light began filling Fumo’s open jaws, creeping along his fangs and even coating his tongue. It slowly stretched from the Pokemon’s mouth, black rings forming along the stream as it grew longer. After reaching about the length of a foot, the stream was drawn into the rings, of which there were seven. They remained in the air, and even from this distance I could feel the slight tremble of rapidly displaced air, caused by the ultrasonic vibrations of the black rings.

It took a few more seconds for the wind to clear the steam away, and Fumo wasted no time in letting his attack loose. He snapped his jaws shut, his fangs audibly clicking together, and sent the rings shooting forward. They were aimed at Snover, which gave a startled cry when it saw the attack bearing down on it. It dove to the side, and it was then I saw a large, dark-brown orb fly towards Fumo. It was dripping a viscous-looking fluid, and I realized that Swinub had taken advantage of the thawed ground, scraping together a Mud Bomb from the warm, gooey mud. Fumo, caught by surprise, took the attack square to his chest. It blew apart when it hit, the force of which threw the Ninetales to the ground. Mud splattered every and stuck fast to Fumo’s chest, making it look like he’d had a hole blown in his chest and was bleeding mud instead of blood.

Swinub didn’t get away scotch-free, though. It couldn’t see Fumo’s Dark Pulse, thanks to its own Mud bomb blocking its view, and had no time to dodge before being caught full-force by the attack. The rings smashed into its body, the vibrations of the Dark energy reaching fever pitch from hitting a solid object. Having been hit with one of those attacks before, I knew firsthand the pain those intense vibrations caused. Swinub squealed loudly in pain, hunching closer to the ground to try and escape the assault.

“Fumo!” I snapped, trying my best to sound angry through the frozen, fatigued haze closing ever tighter around my mind. “Get up, dammit, it’s pathetic to lay there like you’ve actually been hurt.” I had no doubt Fumo really had taken a considerable bit of damage from that attack, but there was no way I could get soft now. Fumo, spurred by my words, snarled in frustration before shoving himself to his paws, shaking fur and snow from his silky coat.

Snover, on its feet as well by now, was not taking kindly to Swinub’s suffering from the Dark Pulse. Not giving Fumo a chance to recover fully, the tree swung both its thick arms around like crazy pinwheels, giving a loud cry as it charged at the fox. It then lunged, bringing both arms down hard on Fumo’s back as it crashed into him. Fox and tree were sent to the ground once more, but Fumo wasn’t as winded this time as he had been by the Mud Bomb. Snover’s Wood Hammer was powered by Grass energy, something that was astoundingly ineffective against a Fire Pokemon. Even as he fell, Fumo snapped his jaws at the tree and bit down on its right side, holding on tight despite hitting the ground hard. Snover wailed in pain as Fumo’s needle-sharp fangs sank into its body, and it thrashed madly in an effort to get free. Fumo, either too pissed to care or simply trying to spite me, refused to let go and instead spat a mouthful of cherry-red Embers from between his clenched jaws, promptly setting Snover ablaze. The Ice-and-Grass-typed Pokemon screamed in pain as the fire engulfed its side, and Fumo tossed it into the air with a flick of his head.

“No!” I yelled, watching Snover tumble through the air as the fire raced to encase its entire body. It hit the ground and rolled about mindlessly, shrieking in agony as the fire ate away at it. Swinub, barely recovered from its own trials, stumbled as fast as its little legs could carry it to where Snover was, quite literally, burning alive. Squealing in distress, the little pig sent an arctic blast of wind towards its companion. Bolstered by the unceasing wind already blowing, Swinub’s Icy Wind swirled around Snover and smothered the flames covering it.

“What were you thinking?!” I shouted, yanking Fumo’s Ball free and jabbing it towards the fox. He smirked at me as he stood, shaking himself again and giving me a look that dared me to recall him. I stared back at him, knowing if I called him back it would make him feel he’d gotten a victory over me. I knew the fox had a habit of taking his loathing for me out on others, but I hadn’t thought he would ever actually try to kill one of my targets. I was pretty sure it wasn’t because he was mad in general, but was trying his damnedest to make me suffer.

“We’re going to finish this without any further incidents,” I told the Ninetales, raising my voice to be heard as I shoved his Ball back in my pocket. The fox blinked, surprised, then gave a growl. He was clearly mad that I had refused to play his game, and I knew he would hate me all the more for it. “You’re going to do exactly as I say, Fumo. No more acting on your own, do you understand?” Fumo growled again and turned his head away, breaking eye contact. I nodded once, casting my gaze where Swinub and Snover were. Snover was still on the ground, its entire body covered in black scorch marks, and I knew it had passed out. I’d have to get the thing to a PokeCenter to be healed before giving it to Jake, seeing as he didn’t appreciate receiving what he called damaged goods. Swinub was gently nudging the other with its pink nose, making noises of concern and completely oblivious to the fact that it was still technically engaged in battle.

“Now, Fumo, we’re going to end this. Use Zen Headbutt to throw Swinub into the air, where it can’t retaliate with any Ground or Rock moves. Then you’re going to hit it with a Flare Blitz,” I commanded, watching Swinub. It didn’t react in the slightest to my words, and a moment later Fumo came rushing into my sight. He lowered his head as he charged at Swinub’s back, leaping at the last moment to add strength to his attack as a soft purple haze surrounded his skull.

Swinub, at that second, shocked me by whirling around faster than I thought possible. It, too, jumped forward, squealing furiously. The two met midair, and the sudden lack of forward motion to dissipate their momentum rebounded through both Pokemon. Both landed on their feet, though Swinub looked worse for wear. Fumo didn’t appear too steady either, however, and staggered around a moment before seeming to recover his senses. He growled at Swinub, baring his fangs, and got ready to carry out his Flare Blitz.

“Stop!” I called, seeing that Swinub had pretty much reached its limit. The pig was clearly struggling just to stay on its feet, and a Flare Blitz would most likely do more than just knock it out. Fumo raised his eyes and gave me a hateful look, and I could tell from the tension in his body that he was going to ignore me. Cursing, I jerked his Ball free from my pocket and held it out, snapping, “Return!” Fumo went to jump out of the path of the beam sent forward by the Ball, but I knew his tricks and lifted the Ball to follow the fox’s trajectory. The Pokemon’s enraged howl was cut off almost the same second it started, and after he’d been called back I put his Ball back in my pocket.

Now alone with the two defeated Pokemon, I realized just how much I’d been worn down today, emotionally and physically. It had been a treacherous journey to reach the lakefront of Lake Acuity, and now I was feeling the full extent of the trip. All I wanted to do was crawl into a warm bed and sleep, but first I had some Pokemon to catch, and then there was the hike to reach Snowpoint City.

Shrugging my shoulders, I worked the heavy black pack from my back and dropped it on the ground. My bulky, steel-gray coat and puffy black pants made it hard to bend over and unzip the pack, but I managed after a few tries. I had to shove the large hood of the coat from my head to see, as it obscured my vision when I bent over, and instantly felt like my head had been thrust into a bucket of water fresh from the freezer. I shuddered as I reached into the pack to retrieve two empty PokeBalls, cursing the idiocy in not putting them in one of my other pockets, where they’d have been easier to get to.

After digging through the various cold-weather gear and health sprays I’d shoved into the pack, I zipped it closed and straightened. Leaving the cumbersome thing in the snow, I trudged over to where Swinub was, dropping one of the Balls on its back. The sphere opened with a resounding snap-crack sound, releasing a flood of crimson light that enveloped the pig Pokemon. The Ball then clicked shut and started to wiggle about feebly. Without watching to see if the capture was a success, I walked over to Snover and repeated the process. As the second sphere rocked back and forth, my gaze fell to the heavy black boots encasing my feet, wondering if I would have the energy to make it to Snowpoint or not. After this ordeal, I had to wonder if I even wanted to…


Pokemon Going For: Swinub and Snover
# of characters needed: 20k-40k
Total # of characters: 33k+

Meh, the battle seems kinda short to me.
Paired with Shen, the most epic Bleach fan around :3
URPG Stats/National Park Info/Coordinator Stats

^Rock Musical Bleach^

Last edited by Dog of Hellsing; 01-07-2010 at 05:55 PM.
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Old 06-09-2010, 06:24 PM
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Default Re: Razor's Edge [WWC]


Geez, if you had squeezed anymore cute puppies or rainbows in there, I think I would’ve puked from happiness overload, Jess. But seriously. The plot of this story was strong, but only because it sets you up for what’s to come next. One half of the story was a flashback which, though it is clearly going to be an important part of the entire story, doesn’t really have much effect on this chapter, as far as you’ve told us. So far, I don’t know why seeing his parents murdered caused Joseph to turn into… well, whatever he is, since that hasn’t been explained in full either. The other half of the story was your battle, which, while it allowed me some insight into Joseph’s personality and his relationships with his Pokemon, doesn’t really contribute to the plot of this chapter. Without knowing what happens next, this plot is similar to the “Trainer walks into forest to find a certain Pokemon and oh look! There it is!” story, but with the added fact that said trainer’s parents were brutally murdered.

The best part of this story wasn’t the plot itself, but rather what you left out. I’ve already mentioned a few things that I don’t know about Joseph yet, which, as any great story should, has left me hungry to read more. I want to know what differentiates this story from the aforementioned cliché: I want to know how seeing his parents murdered affected Joseph, who this “Jake” is, and why Joseph was sent out after a Snover and a Swinub. That’s what I love most about this story, and, in fact, your writing in general. You really know how to build excitement.


For the most part, I can give you glowing remarks here. However, I’ve noticed that sometimes you tend to go a little overboard with your descriptions. There was one description that I especially felt was overdone and, in fact, unnecessary. I’ll quote it here:

After having learned the Flamethrower TM, the Absol had developed a special chemical sac next to her intestines. From this sac extended two tubes, one leading to each lung. The chemical mixture coated the lungs to protect them, and when Sakura inhaled the next second, the chemicals ignited, filling her lungs with scorching flames.
The fact is, we’re talking about Pokemon here. No reader is going to bother wondering why Absol is able to learn to use Flamethrower; they’re just going to accept it. Going into such detail about the new anatomical features that allow Absol to use the attack actually takes away from the value of the story because it completely stops the action. Remember, exact descriptions aren’t always the end-all-be-all of a story. Sometimes, it’s better to leave certain things to the imagination. The exact way that Absol is able to use Flamethrower is probably one of those things.

I’ve got a couple more examples of where you got unnecessarily wordy, but not to that degree.

A beam of concentrated red light shot from the middle of the red-topped, white-bottomed sphere…
Again, every person reading the story is going to know exactly what a Pokeball looks like. Saying something like “the red and white sphere” is more than sufficient to describe a Pokeball. Any more than that is really superfluous.

After reaching about the length of a foot, the stream was drawn into the rings, of which there were seven.
Here’s another place where you drew out a description so much that it just sounded wrong. You could’ve said, “… the stream was drawn into the seven rings,” which would’ve been less awkward. I also think you went a little overboard on the Dark Pulse description as a whole. Try and watch out for this sort of thing in the future, okay?


Again, you’re mostly fine here, but there were a few mistakes I found that were probably typos.

As another blast of sub-arctic wind howled around us and stung the already scorching skin of my face, my faithful Absol took a single step forward.
The only way that “scorching” would be grammatically correct is if “to scorch” could also mean “to become scorched” or if your face was actually scorching something else. Since neither is true, “already scorched skin” is the right way to phrase that.

There were had to slow down, so as not to scratch up the new hardwood floors that had been installed about a week ago.
I’m guessing you meant “There we had to slow down…” Otherwise, I’m not sure what you were going for with that.

Cocking her head back, the Absol drew on her least dregs of energy…
I think you meant to say her “last” dregs of energy. Otherwise this sentence means that Absol had lots and lots of energy, but only wanted to use a little. Which I’m pretty sure is incorrect.

Mud splattered every and stuck fast to Fumo’s chest…
“Mud splattered every which way,” or “Mud splattered everywhere,” …? Otherwise it doesn’t make sense.

Swinub didn’t get away scotch-free, though.
I believe the expression is “scot-free.”



Method of Capture:

I don’t know why you thought your battle was too short. It was more than half your story. @_@

There’s not a whole lot for me to say here. The battle was described well, wasn’t too one-sided, had a wide variety of attacks, etc. Again, just remember that sometimes detail has to be sacrificed for the sake of action. A battle should be pretty fast-paced, and if you stop the action to talk about the way Absol grew new tubes so it can use Flamethrower or to mention in explicit detail the exact way Dark Pulse forms on Ninetales’s tongue… well, it’s a bit much. I think that’s all I’ve got here.


Another solid story, Jess. I wish I could remember NecroFear better so I could tell you which one freaked me out more, but I guess this one doesn’t quite live up to NecroFear’s standards, since there were only two explicitly detailed dead people in this story and that one was… well, zombies everywhere. Anyhoo, Snover and Swinub captured. I don’t suppose I’ll get those puppies and rainbows in the next chapter? :/

SotaOMG (10:05:46 PM): i think stunky is sexy
iamnotyou11 (10:05:54 PM): Soda stop being gay (10:06:03 PM): ironic statement?
I can probably take some grading requests now. But don't all rush me at once. :/
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