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Stories Write a story to catch Pokemon. A Grader will then decide if it catches or not.


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Old 03-05-2007, 07:59 PM
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Default Flight Against Fire

Flight Against Fire


Introduction: Well, it’s about time I get back into the URPG, so I’m going to start with getting me a new Pokemon. I’m going to be going for Houndour here, and I’m doing the story from the Houndour’s POV. This srot is about how a Houndour go over her fear of Fire, after the traumatic events she went through when she was very young. Enjoy ^^.

***

Fire is my Type, but I fear it. I am terrified of its blazing, scorching, furious thirst for destruction. I am petrified of the lives it steals and the futures it destroys. I cannot look into its dancing form, for even a spark sends panic coursing through my being. I feel it flowing within me, begging to be released, but I will not, cannot let it out. The thought of such a vicious, raging thing bursting from my innards horrifies me to the point of being physically sick.

I may be Fire, but I am also scared…

You may find it odd that a Houndour would be afraid of Fire. You may ask yourself, Isn’t a Houndour part Fire Type? Why would they fear something that is a part of them? That is an easy question to answer. Everyone, be they human or Pokemon, fears some part of themselves. Perhaps it’s their tendency to run when they are needed, or to lose control of their actions when they are angry. Maybe it’s a voice in their head that tells them to do bad things, a voice they just can’t ignore. Whatever inner demons plague a being, everyone has a part of themselves that they are scared of. Mine simply happens to be Fire, both the kind that I can produce within my body, and the kind that comes into being outside of it.

I’m sure you’re asking yourself what could have happened to make me afraid of Fire. I can hear you thinking it, begging to be made to understand why I am so frightened by the power I posses. Well, it was by nothing I myself did, I can assure you. I have never used my Fire, and the reason why is because of what happened that made me grow to fear it. I will tell you what happened, and then I will tell you how my life has been because of that event. I will show you how my life was changed, and once I have revealed that, I will tell you how my life is changing now. The outcome my surprise you, for how often is the end the same as the beginning? But before any of that, let me tell you who I am.

My name is Rira, and I am a considerably young (at only two years old) female Houndour. Unlike other Houndour, I am what humans call a Shiny version. Instead of the normal orange fur on my muzzle and stomach, I carry pale, cream-colored fur. The rest of my pelt is a somewhat faded-looking navy blue, and not the normal pitch-black. However, I look like a normally-colored Houndour when it comes to the bone circlets around my wrists and ankles, the bone dome on the top of my head, and the two bone arches on my back. I also bear a silvery scar on my right flank that is void of any lustrous fur, gained from the incident that happened to me almost a year ago. The very same incident I shall now tell you about.

***

The day was warm and breezy, with temperatures somewhere around the mid-sixties. There were no clouds in the sky, though there were the occasional giant flocks of Taillow or Pidgey. The lush grass was a crisp green, soft and toasty, the ground beneath pleasantly cool and firm. The field was wide and long, with only a scattering of small trees here and there. To the north behind the den, though, there was a large forest. However, it wasn’t an inviting place. Only Ghosts and Bugs lived there, with a few Dark Types mixed in for good measure.

We lived in the huge field, in a cave dug into the ground. There was Mother and Father, my three younger brothers and older sister, and myself. The grass was so tall that it hid the entrance to the den very well, and when my siblings and I romped around outside we had to stand on the very tips of our paws to see over it. Our parents told us that it was a good thing, for if we couldn’t see over the top of the grass, then other Pokemon couldn’t see us, and potentially try to make a meal of us. Being young, we never even worried about such a thing, certain it could never happen to us. Of course, this was despite the fact that Mother and Father often bought back young Ratatta or Zigzagoon for us to eat. We were the predators, after all.

That day, Father was out hunting for big game. We were going to have a celebration feast, because that day was Mother’s birthday. There were a few other Pokemon, friends of Mother’s, who had come by to congratulate her. I didn’t understand why they would do that just because she’d lived another year. Back then, I was too young to realize what a harsh place the world can be for a wild Pokemon. Mother seemed unable to decide whether she shoul be grateful for the praise or irritated by it, so she didn’t really say anything. Whenever a Pokemon would tell her, “Congratulations,” she would just smile and sort of nod. When they said “Happy Birthday,” though, she seemed much happier, handing out thank you’s left and right.

When Father returned from the hunt, it was a little after afternoon. A couple more Pokemon had come by, mainly a family of Mightyena and a Persian who seemed more like a Houndoom. Father had captured a large Stantler, and when everyone saw the size of it they praised him for his strength and cunning. There wasn’t a single scorch mark on the deer’s silky soft coat, and everyone wanted to know how he had taken it down without getting hurt.

“It’s not important,” he said, though his chest was puffed out with pride. “All that matters is my lovely Jio is turning nineteen today, and that she, and therest of us, will feast grandly today!” A huge cheer had gone up at this news, and I was surprised that a horde of other Pokemon hadn’t descended down upon us at that moment to find out what was going on. Father grinned at Mother while everyone else was applauding, and Mother smiled back, and my siblings tumbled about and nipped one another’s ears, going crazy from all the excitement. I just watched, because there was a feeling in my stomach that something bad was going to happen. Any other time I would have been jumping around as well, but that day, I knew that there was going to be a sad ending instead of a happy one.

“You’ll roast is!” someone shouted out, which gained another round of applause. “Roast it good, burn off the fur and let’s eat!”

“Not me,” Father said as he shook his head and stepped back. “This is Jio’s birthday, and the feast is in her honor. We’ll let her have the honors.” He flashed Mother another grin, and she nodded as she walked to the carcass. We all fell still, even my romping siblings, and held our breath as Mother sucked violently. When she couldn’t fill her lungs anymore, she tilted her head back and opened her long orange muzzle a little. Then, with a loud WOOSH noise, Mother snapped her head down and let out a huge blast of Fire. It was a Fire Blast, and all of us gathered gasped as the giant flames leapt from Mother’s throat and maw. The blaze fell upon the Stantler carcass, and within moments the fur had been completely burned away. A few moments more, Mother snapped her jaws shut with a click and stood proudly before her handiwork.

Steam rose from the roasted Stantler, and the outer skin had turned crispy and black. Mother reached out with a paw and used her claws to tear away the skin, revealing the tender, juicy meat beneath. It had been cooked for just the right amount of time. As the delicious scent wafted from the large Pokemon, there rose another cheer for Mother’s expertise in wielding her Fire Blast. The grass under the Stantler had burned as well, but the grass around it had been untouched by the flames. My brothers and sister began to leap about, their blunt muzzles opened as they tried to use Fire Blasts of their own. However, we were too young for Fire, and the only thing my siblings spat out were small, thick clouds of hazy smoke. I remember at that moment how badly I wished I could breathe Fire like Mother…

We ate then, and the meal was great. By the time we had all had our fill, there was still a little bit of meat left on the bones. Mother let the odd Persian have the rest to take home to her three kittens, and over the course of the day, the group of Pokemon that had come to visit Mother drifted away. Finally, close to dusk, the last Pokemon went home. Mother and Father rested, but my siblings and I stayed up. I sat nearby as the others played, reenacting the events of the day and generally having a fun time. I couldn’t join them because the bad feeling in my stomach had grown to the point of making me want to whine and howl. Finally, when I could no longer take it, I stood and went to talk to Mother and Father.

That was when it happened.

“Rira!” my youngest brother, Denio, called to me. His voice was high-pitched with excitement, and so I instead trotted over to where he and the others were standing. As I drew closer, I could smell the scent of burning grass. The bad feeling in my gut grew so strong it hurt, and I couldn’t help but lift my lips in a grimace. A few steps closer and I saw a tiny glowing spot in the grass. Denio and the others had clustered around it, their stubby tails wagging in pure exaltation

“What is it?” I asked, the smell of burning grass strongest here. I glanced closer at the spot as it suddenly flickered, then died. My siblings groaned in disappointment.

“Cherria made her first Fire!” Denio announced, and I looked up at my sister. She was grinning hugely, her tail wagging so hard her whole backside was shaking back and forth. I smiled a little.

“You should go show Mother and Father,” I told her, and she jumped a foot straight into the air.

“I will, but first I want to show you!” Cherria replied, pride bright in her eyes. I knew that because she was the oldest of us, she wanted to show off to us. So I nodded and took a few steps back, giving Cherria some space. The feeling in my stomach clenched as I watched her throw her head back, and I had to force myself not to howl out for her to stop.

A second later, Cherria jerked her head down, and a spray of embers tumbled from her throat. They landed in a scattered pile about a foot in front of her. My brothers twirled tight circles as they ooh’ed and aah’ed, and Denio cried, “That was more than the first one, lots more! Cherria has her Fire!”

“My first Ember,” the older Houndour exclaimed with a nod. I didn’t reply, because I couldn’t look away from the embers smoldering in the grass before me. Then, with a speed I never thought was possible, the embers exploded into flame, and within seconds the blaze had increased nearly five times in size. It was out of control before any of us could make a move.

“Mother! Father!” I heard myself cry out in panic as the flames leapt and danced higher into the air. My brothers crowded close to me, and I could see fear in their eyes as the light from the fire reflected in their wide eyes. “Bad Fire! Bad Fire!” Bad Fire was just that: Fire that had gone mad, springing out of control like a Zangoose falling upon a Seviper. I saw Cherria dart away to get out parents, and after a moment had to coax my younger brothers to get them to move away, as the Fire was spreading rapidly.

As we moved back and I heard Mother, Father, and Cherria coming back, there was a loud POP behind us. An instant later, there was a hotness on my right near my back, and I yelped in surprise. There was no pain, but a severe discomfort as the fur practically melted from my skin, and when the Fire came into contact with my bare flesh it felt like when Cherria nipped too hard during play, stinging something awful. I jumped into the air, landed, and shook myself madly as Mother ran up in front of me, fear shining in her eyes. She quickly licked at my burn, and the stinging stopped right away.

“The Fire is out of control!” Father cried out a moment later. “We must warn the others of the Bad Fire!” He and Cherria joined us a second later, and I saw that Cherria looked horribly guilty. None of us said anything to her as we sprang away together, howling the news of the Bad Fire as far and wide as we could. We started with the field, and then made our way into the forest. We had almost finished when Mother stopped dead, her head held high and her head slightly cocked. Father ran up beside her and paused, looking worried and slightly angry at the same time.

“What is it?” he asked in a rushed voice. Mother twisted her head so she could look behind her, and then nodded a moment later.

“I hear someone, they’re calling for help!” she answered, and before any of us could respond she whirled around all the way and bounded off the way we’d come. Father ran after her without hesitating, and Cherria and the rest of us were left behind.

“They would want us to wait here for them,” Cherria muttered after several tense moments. We could hear and see the Fire in the distance, quickly coming towards us. The thick, acrid smell of smoke washed over us as hot winds washed by. By this time, my normally blue pelt was smeared with ash that had been carried on the breezes. “But this is my fault, so I need to go help!” And with those words, she, too, jumped away. We watched her go, and the bad feeling in my stomach grew worse as time passed.

Finally, I could no longer take it. The Fire had nearly reached us, and it was time to move on. Though the Fire does not cause us any real physical pain or harm, the smoke and intense heat can make a Houndour choke to death, smothering our lungs. Mother had told us once that even though we produce Fire within our bodies, it is done in a special, heat-proof sac in our chests. This is to keep the heat from the Fire from harming our other organs. Smoke was also produced in that sac, to be used in a Smog attack. Any other time, heat and smoke caused other organs to die, which usually made the Pokemon die as well.

“We have to move!” I cried out, but my siblings would not budge. They wailed and howled, begging for Mother and Father and Cherria to return. But I knew they wouldn’t. The bad feeling in my gut told me that they had been in the Bad Fire for too long and wouldn’t be coming back out. So I tried as hard as I could to make them move. I barked at them, I nipped them, I dragged them by the scruffs of their necks, I begged them, I threatened them. But nothing I did made them even look at me. The Fire got closer, and as I started to feel dizzy from all the smoke I realized that even though they had not gone into it, the Bad Fire had claimed them as well. So I turned and fled, and grief and guilt raged in my heart as I abandoned my siblings to the Fire. I heard their howls grow fainter and fainter behind me, and when I could hear them no longer I began to wail.

I ran, and I ran. I cannot remember how long I ran. Minutes, hours, days, weeks…I remember crossing a deep stream, and the pain the cold water caused me as I was forced to swim through it. When I emerged on the other side, I found that the water had drained the rest of my strength, and I instantly collapsed as I fell into unconsciousness…
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Last edited by Dog of Hellsing; 03-06-2007 at 03:45 PM.
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Old 03-05-2007, 09:02 PM
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Default Re: Flight Against Fire

Flight Against Fire, con’t


So that was how it happened. Cherria’s first Fire ended up costing my family their lives, and I earned my silver scar from it. When I came to the next day, I wandered aimlessly until I came out of the woods. I came across a large group of Bug Pokemon who had evacuated the forest the night before, and learned from an old Scyther that almost three-quarters of the forest had fallen victim to the blaze. He also told me, with great sympathy in his gentle voice, that the bodies of my family had been found about an hour before sunrise. Mother, Father, and Cherria were found near the body of a lone Mightyena, the Pokemon, I guessed, that had been calling for help. It had gotten trapped under a fallen tree, and they had all died as the fire overcame them. My brothers were found were I had left them.

I cried that day, and once I’d run out of tears and my throat was raw and sore, I lied around and grieved. The Bugs didn’t bother me, and I decided they must have felt it wasn’t their place to say anything. When they started to leave, some of them offered apologies, but none offered to help me out. The last one to go was the old Scyther.

“You are still young, and you have not yet gained your Fire,” he said, and when he spoke those words something within me snapped.

“I will never use my Fire!” I bawled, tears filling my eyes as fear stirred inside my young heart. “I will never use Fire, it’s a horrible and terrible thing!”

“You will die without it,” the old Pokemon replied bluntly, and I shook my head as I sunk to the ground.

“Then I will die,” I said sadly, and the Scyther sighed softly. Without another word, he beat his wings and a moment later was gone. I watched him fly off, feeling a hollowness in my stomach in place of the bad feeling that I’d had the night before. I knew the Scyther was right. I was too young to hunt for myself, and with no Fire I could bring down nothing. I couldn’t rely on anyone else to help me: they’d have their own problems to deal with. Many of the other Pokemon had lost loved ones as well, and also lost their homes. The surviving ones would need to find new places to live, and none of them would have time to help a single Houndour pup.

However, I found I was wrong. After lying on the ground for several hours, hunger and a keen need to be around others roused me to my paws. I wandered once more, with no real hopes of finding food or companions. I was surprised, you can imagine, when I came upon the Mightyena family from Mother’s celebration the other day, and when they openly accepted me into their pack. I supposed it was because I was part Dark Type, and that they were good friends of Mother. It probably didn’t hurt when I told them what had become of the rest of my family.

And so, the months passed. I stayed and traveled with the Mightyena, and when I was about a year old I felt the Fire within me rumble for the first time. I refused to use it when I shared this with my foster family, and was glad when they respected my desire to leave it be. True to my word, I never used it, and never dreamed of using it. It changed my life in many ways. Prey that a Houndour could usually bring down with Fire became nearly impossible to catch, and so I had to rely on what the Mightyena bought down with fang and claw. It wasn’t what I was used to, at first, but I got accustomed to the different fare over time, and therefore never grew to the size a Houndour of my age at the time would normally be. The strange color of my fur attracted curious attention, but I had to get used to scathing remarks from other Fire and part Fire Types when I told them I didn’t use my Fire. I began to grow withdrawn, distant from others, even the Mightyena family who had so devotedly helped me survive.

When I was nearly two years old, I bade them farewell and left the Mightyena pack. Since I was lighter and more agile than other Houndour, I could hunt the same things that Mightyena did, and in the same manner. Even when I couldn’t catch anything, and when my stomach would growl like an angry Delcatty, I wouldn’t even think of using my Fire. I still had nightmares about that day, that night, when I’d lost my family to Cherria’s Fire. I knew that my Fire could just as easily leap out of control and cause more death and destruction. It scared me to think about, and many times I’d wake up screaming, seeing myself burning up the bodies of the Mightyena who’d raised me.

However, my life was about to change once again with my second birthday, and at the time I was sure it was for the worst. I was hunting a lame Raticate in a scattering of thin trees, stealthily tracking it and getting to know when it moved and when it rested. Just as I was closing in and getting ready to pounce, I heard a shout from behind me. The Raticate jumped, startled, and whirled around. When it saw me, it let out a squeal and ran off with considerable speed. I watched it go and groaned softly. It would have been my first meal in four days.

I turned, determined to see who had scared away my meal, and was shocked to see a young human standing not two yards away. It was a male, and I roughly guessed him to be about fifteen in human years. He had short, messy brown hair, and his shirt and pants were both black. He was wearing sandals, which was surprising, given the somewhat rough terrain we were currently on. He had a white-and-red ball clutched tightly in his left hand, and was looking extremely nervous. As I looked at the ball, I remembered something my Mother had told me about a month before she’d died.

“There are humans called Trainers, who use small balls called PokeBalls to capture and train wild Pokemon like us. One day you may be challenged by a Trainer, so be careful if you are ever approached by a human who lets Pokemon out of white-and-red balls.”

So this was a Trainer. I lowered my head a little, wondering what he was going to do. The young male must have seen it as an aggressive move, because he held the Ball in front of him suddenly, then dropped it with a jerk of his hand.

“I’ll catch you!” he shouted a bit too loudly. I didn’t really understand his words, but I understood his intentions. There was a bright white flash when the ball hit the ground, and when it faded I saw an unusual-looking Pokemon standing before the boy. It looked like a small pink blob with no limbs and two small black eyes. “Ditto, use Transform!” the boy called. I watched the gooey Pokemon begin to stretch itself and change form, until finally a Houndour was standing before me. Its fur was the same color as mine, and it surprised me a little to see my reflection when I wasn’t looking into water.

“Why do you do what that human tells you?” I asked, and the Ditto made a shrugging movement.

“He’s my Trainer,” it replied. It didn’t make any sense to me, but I didn’t argue. Not that I didn’t want to, but because at that moment the young boy shouted, “Ditto, use Ember attack!”

Those words caused me to momentarily freeze in panic. Again, I didn’t understand completely, but I knew what he wanted the Ditto to do. The odd Pokemon replied by sucking in a breath, then shooting out a mouthful of Embers at me. I yelped in surprise and jumped into the air to avoid them, preparing to run when I landed. I didn’t want to battle; I didn’t want to be around Fire! As I hit the ground, though, the sight of the Embers fizzling out held me frozen with fear. I was sure that at any time, they’d burst into flames like Cherria’s had and envelop me, taking me to wherever the rest of my deceased family had gone. My hesitation gave the boy confidence.

“Use Smog!” he called. “Don’t give it a chance to run!”

“Sorry,” the Ditto said, and a moment later blew out a thick, choking cloud of smoke. It descended on me, and though it wasn’t impossible to breathe (though it was hard), I couldn’t see an inch in front of my muzzle. I whipped back and forth, confused and unsure of which way to go. However, my hearing was unaffected, and I heard the Ditto’s Trainer shout, “Now, Bite attack!” come from behind me. I was facing away from them and could run! I never got the chance, though, because a second later I felt the Ditto’s fangs clamp onto my tail and drag me back. I howled, more in shock and desperation to flee than actual pain, and tried to break free. I yanked once, and when that didn’t work I jerked my head around, snapping at the Ditto’s face. The surprised Pokemon let go and jumped back, and as the smoke faded I turned and got ready to run once more.

“Ditto, use Faint Attack!”

I made the mistake of turning back to see exactly what the Ditto was doing, only to watch as it seemed to blink from sight. I cocked my head, surprised, then let out a cry as the Ditto suddenly reappeared before me and slammed into me hard. I was knocked roughly to the ground and stunned for a moment. The boy said something I couldn’t catch, but obviously the Ditto did. I was aware enough to see it open its jaws, and then let out a high-pitched yip of terror as the Ditto breathed out a massive stream of Fire at me a moment later. I jerked to my paws and ran, stumbling drunkenly, trying to escape the deadly flames.

“Why don’t you fight back?” the boy asked in a curious-sounding voice as I had to jump to the left. I watched the flames shoot past me, shaking in terror. Suddenly, though, the flames died. I scowled, confused, and slowly turned to face the Ditto. It had closed its jaws and was looking at me funny.

“Why don’t you use your Fire?” it asked, and I shook my head.

“I will never use my Fire, it’s too dangerous. I lost my family to Fire because it went out of control. If I can’t keep it under control, it might go crazy and cause more death.”

“But you’re part Fire Type. You can control the Fire you use. It’s in your nature. I’m not sure how your family died, but I know there’s no way you could lose control of any Fire you make. Look at me. I’m not even a real Fire Type, but because I’ve changed into you and become part Fire, even just for this battle, I can still control it.”

“But my sister…she made the Fire, it was her first Ember. She couldn’t control it…”

“Her first Fire? I’ll bet she was surprised by it and didn’t have time to react. She probably didn’t know how to control it either. Your parents,” and here the Ditto spoke softly out of respect, “would have taught her how to control it. I suppose they never got the chance…”

“No, they didn’t,” I said softly as I shook my head. “We were all so worried about warning other Pokemon, and I think that maybe Cherria didn’t tell Mother and Father what really happened…”

“Well, I’m sorry for what happened. But if you’re afraid of your Fire and don’t think you can control it, you should let my Trainer catch you. He’s really nice and he’ll know how to help you out.”

“I’m not sure…” I muttered as I glanced at the young boy. I was surprised to find that he looked patient, and not angry or irritated that his Pokemon and I had been talking for so long. When he noticed me looking at him, he smiled and even lifted his hand in a small wave. I thought about it, then nodded and turned to face the Ditto. “Alright. But I think we should finish our battle first.”

“That’s how it goes,” the Ditto said with a smile, then took a pose. I did as well, my body tensing for the fight that was about to come.
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Old 03-07-2007, 06:51 PM
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Default Re: Flight Against Fire

Flight Against Fire, con’t


“It looks like you’re ready to fight now,” I heard the young human say as I watched my opponent. “That’s good. I can’t really catch you if all you do is try to run. Now then, Ditto, go all out! Don’t hold anything back, let’s show this Pokemon what we’ve got! Use another Flamethrower!” The Ditto responded by dropping its jaws open and inhaling sharply. A second later, a burst of Fire exploded from its throat. Despite the fear that still gripped me, I waited until the Fire was almost upon me, then dropped to my belly, ducking under it. The Ditto, its vision obscured by the huge wave of flames pouring from its mouth, didn’t notice as I started to crawl forward.

Finally, though, the Fire ended abruptly as the Ditto’s attack came to an end. Luckily, I’d had enough time to get close enough to lunge at it before it could retreat. A startled yelp popped from it as I hit it and knocked it hard onto its back, then quickly jumped back and waited for it to stand. I didn’t know what it was going to do next, since I didn’t know how to fight like a Houndour. I did, however, know how to fight like a Mightyena: tire down the opponent with quick, sudden hits, then go in for the finishing blow when they were too tired to defend themselves. So that’s how I would go about battling. As the Ditto regained its senses and clambered to its paws, I crouched down and tensed the muscles of my legs, waiting for my foe to make the next move.

“Not bad, but you can’t expect to win a battle by sneaking around all the time. Ditto! Use Faint Attack again!” the young man hollered. I ignored him and kept my eyes and attention on the Ditto. As it lowered its head and then vanished from sight, I closed my own eyes and focused on my nose. It was a move that had proven useful to learn at an early age when hunting with a pack that relied on its physical strength and abilities to bring down prey, especially that kind that liked to hide. As I focused, time seemed to slow to halt, and my sense of smell started to increase. After a few seconds, I could smell things with a dizzying clarity. With my Odor Sleuth move completed, I could smell the Ditto as it approached.

At the exact moment it appeared before me I opened my eyes and leapt backwards. The Ditto, caught off-guard by my sudden evasive movement, stumbled as its momentum carried it forward. The moment I landed, I jumped forward and whammed into it again, knocking it to the ground once more. I then hopped back a few paces, crouching down in the same pose as before and biding my time. The Ditto got to its paws and shook itself as I watched, then appraised me as it cocked its head.

“You still won’t use your Fire?” it asked, and I shook my head.

“I don’t know…I don’t feel like I can control it…”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” the Ditto told me. “Anyways, if something goes wrong, my Trainer has a Water Pokemon that can put the Fire out.”

“I guess I could try,” I agreed, though I didn’t feel at all confident. The Ditto nodded, then glanced back at its Trainer. The young boy nodded.

“Ditto, use Flamethrower again, but keep your eyes on that Houndour! Don’t let it sneak up on you again!” The Ditto gave a single nod, opened its jaws, and breathed in. I repeated the motion, and it felt remarkably awkward to open my mouth so wide. However, as I took in a deep breath, I felt something in my chest rumble, felt it churning and roiling and boiling as it suddenly spewed forth in a fountain of blue-white flames. I was so surprised that I automatically clamped my jaws shut, crying out, “NO!” To my surprise, the odd-colored flames died at once, and in my amazement I didn’t have time to avoid the Ditto’s normal-hued Flamethrower.

With a cry, the end of the blaze caught me in the chest and threw me back to the hard-packed dirt. The air whooshed from my lungs from the force, and for a long moment I couldn’t move. However, I heard the boy laughing, and once I could stand I faced him, confused. What was so funny?

“That was great!” he crowed, clapping his hands together. “That Flamethrower was awesome! How did you make it that color though? It must be because you’re a Shiny Houndour. But man, that was impressive! But you stopped it too soon, and got hit yourself. Maybe now, though, you’ll have confidence in what you can do. That was why you didn’t use your Fire at first, wasn’t it?” The boy grinned widely and I shook myself a little, contemplating the human’s words. Yes, I could feel it. The fear was still there, but it had abated somewhat. When I had shouted no, the Fire had stopped completely. Not even a single ember had remained. And all I had done was willed it gone.

With this new revelation, I took a moment, for the first time in my life, to really see how the Fire within me felt. Now that I paid mind to it, I could feel pleasant warmth in my chest and stomach, and after a few seconds I could feel the liquefied Fire roiling in the special sac in my chest. I opened my mouth experimentally and willed an Ember attack. To my surprise, a few small, flaming embers shot out. I watched them land on the grass, then willed them to go out. They did.

“Let’s continue,” the Ditto said, and I could hear approval in its voice. With a new confidence in my ability, and a new feeling of freedom burning inside me, I dropped my jaws all the way, as wide as they could go, and called on every ounce of strength in my body. Willing the Fire to burst forth in as fierce a Flamethrower as I could muster, I took a breath and then expelled it. The blue-white flames danced out of my mouth again, and the Ditto was caught completely by surprise. When I felt myself running out of oxygen, I snapped my jaws shut and willed the Fire to end. As soon as it did, I saw that the Ditto had Fainted, reverting back to its natural pink form.

The boy whistled faintly as he stared at his unconscious Pokemon, and then glanced up at me. His lips lifted into a small smile as he reached out with the hand that still gripped the Ball his Ditto had been released from. I heard him mutter, “Ditto, return,” and watched curiously as a small, red beam of light shot out from the center of the Ball. When it connected with the Ditto, it glowed red for a moment before the light retreated. The Ditto was carried with it, and a moment later the boy put the Ball in a pocket. He then pulled out another, and I was worried that he would want to battle me some more. I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this prospect: my last attack had taken a lot of energy from me, and now my chest was hurting from the exertion of the blast. I knew I wouldn’t be able to use another Flamethrower of even half the strength of the last one. However, what the boy said next shocked me.

“You just beat one of my most powerful Pokemon, and I’ve never in my life seen a Flamethrower like that come from such a small Pokemon. But I can tell you’re tired, so I won’t make you battle anymore if you don’t want to. If you’d like, though, I can catch you, and help you learn how to use your Fire properly, instead of putting it all into one huge blast like that. I can help you become more confident too, because I have a Charizard on my team. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help you learn more about what you can do.” Here he held out the Ball towards me, and I felt an odd peace come over me. “What do you say? Ready for a lifetime of adventures?”

I thought about it for a moment, and decided that it sounded like a good life. And even though I still felt fear deep inside my heart when it came to thinking about my Fire, I also knew a great weight had been lifted from my small frame. I could use my Fire without harming another, could control it to my will. I could be a proper Houndour know, and I know that’s why my family, both my real one and the Mightyena one, would want for me. With a new confidence growing every second blooming within me, I stepped forward and nodded once, then bowed my head and closed my eyes as the boy threw the Ball at me…

~END~
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  #4  
Old 03-12-2007, 01:27 AM
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Default Re: Flight Against Fire

Introduction: Your introduction does exactly what one is supposed to. It tells us about your character, and sets the scene. Good work.


Plot and Details: You have a very unusual plot, unlike I’ve ever seen on URPG before.
I love it! ^_^ This was a brilliant idea, and really, it makes sense. With all the fire types out there learning to use their flames, I sometimes wonder why there are never any problematic fires, and this story seems to be the answer to that- There are, they just aren’t often written about. The details made this seem realistic, and over all, very enjoyable. You even remembered to include the smell of the fire, which a lot of people tend to leave out.


Realism: Like the rest of your story, this was very good. The one thing I could find to comment on was the success of Houndour's fire. After being unwilling to use fire for so long, the powerful fire attack on the first try seemed a little unusual to me, as did the Houndour being convinced to use fire so soon, by a stranger.


Overall: This is a wonderful story. You have everything here- Good grammar, an interesting plot, realistic and likable characters, and a very convincing battle. Even your length was more than it had to be. This was excellent! Houndour Captured!
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Old 03-12-2007, 03:09 PM
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Default Re: Flight Against Fire

I'm glad you liked the fic ^^. I think I'm going to start writing my URPG stories from the Pokemon's POV. It makes the story deeper and more realistic than always doing it from the Trainer's POV or third person, IMO.
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