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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 02-10-2008, 03:15 PM
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Default The life of an Avenger

The life of an Avenger


The story takes place in one of Kanto’s renowned Ghost Pokemon cities, Chris Bagwell and his grandmother, Tia Bagwell, are living a peaceful life in Lavender Town when one day a letter arrives, it may as well be the last letter that they both read…

A group of antagonists who call themselves Team P.O.A.C.H (Perilous Organization Administered for Creating Havoc) rob the pewter city museum. When our protagonists’ grandmother, Tia Bagwell, dies in attempt to stop a member of team Poach, Chris Bagwell vows to avenge his grandmother, carefully heeding for any signs of the wretched Organization.

Chapter 1
The funeral

Hot tears rushed down the side of Chris Bagwell’s pale face. He couldn’t believe his grandmother; a person he had been very close to – considering he didn’t have a mother or father – had departed this miserable world. If Chris were to look at the bright side, as he was a very positive person, he would’ve said that his grandma was better off when she were dead, better off without the burdens and terrible ordeals she had to face when she was still alive, unfortunately, this trait of positive-ness was no where to be seen. As if it hid under a great mattress, tucked away with all his other good traits, which seemed to have been dispelled for the moment. All that was in his heart now was sadness and grief. It was true that on other occasions Chris would be heard joking about death, making clever statements.

“I find it ironic that it’s the living people who cry for the dead when infact the dead should be crying for the living. People don’t realize how really miserable and terrible this world is, full of hate and war. At least the dead don’t have to deal with people like Mrs. Angela, eh?”

To this all his friends would laugh heartily, admiring his cleverness.
Mrs. Angela, his former high school teacher who taught at the Pokemon Academy, was an over – strict battling teacher that enjoyed giving students a good whack on the back – side.

Chris looked down at his jet black Armani shoes that rested on the dewy, wet grass. He was dressed very formally in a striped, black and grey suit. He wore a black tie making him look very much like a dully colored painting. He wasn’t to blame for his gloomy and boring outfit; it was, after all, his grandmother’s funeral. He was usually a very fashionable person, like his grandmother, who had a very creative way of carrying her pokeballs.

“I don’t see why I need to wear a belt just to carry my Pokeballs when I could just be creative and stand out a little by doing this.” She said, displaying her Japanese – style hair pins that pierced through her hair, which was all held up in bun, cross – haring and forming a kind of “X”. At the ends of each stick – like hair pin, was a pokeball, defying the laws of gravity and miraculously dangling from the protruding pins. It so happened that Mrs. Tina Bagwell, being the creative and fashionable person that she is, added bits of metal to the ends of the hair pins before magnetizing them. She then magnetized most of her pokeballs and placed them on the tips of each end. This not only gave her the look of a living windmill tower, but attracted many eyes and what was later to be known as “The great fad of 2007”

More tears streamed down Chris’ face when he remembered this, laughing despite himself. She was quite a character, she was. As more and more memories flashed through his brain the inevitable event of her death, which occurred about a week ago, came to his attention.


It was a typical gloomy and dull day in the streets of Lavender Town when suddenly news from a post delivery bird - a Pidgey, arrived at Chris’ humble esteem. His grandma eagerly tore open the paper reading through it with growing anxiety clearly displayed on her face.

“What is it?” Chris asked his grandma curiously, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a letter from Pewter City; they need me at city hall right away. Something about a robbery at the museum.” She mumbled, getting up and snatching a blank paper from the confines of her drawer. She then picked up a pencil and started to ply, furiously scribbling a reply letter. After a couple of minutes she was done, holding it up and proof – reading it as if she was admiring a work of art. Finally, satisfied with what she had written, she called upon the Pidgey and placed the scrolled up letter in its beak.

“Right,” she said, looking very sternly at me. “We’re headed to Pewter.”

It was a long and grueling trip to Pewter City, upon arrival Chris and his Gran immediately set off to the museum. Once there, they were briefed about what had happened and told that a Moon stone, and a couple of very valuable fossils, had been stolen by a man, around six foot high - about Chris’ height. The curator, a stout, chubby man, also added that the culprit had blonde hair and was wearing a black leather jacket with the words “P.O.A.C.H” in red, imprinted on the back.

“He headed into Viridian forest,” said the nervous looking curator, “you might be able to catch him if you hurry, he just got away about two hours back.”

“Thanks for the information. I’ll do the best I can.” Said Tina, looking very serious for a short wrinkled old lady. Even though she was about fifty years older than Chris – who was nineteen – she still had enough gusto in her to battle and aid others.

With that, they set off into Viridian forest, evading all the Pokemon, focusing on their target.

Viridian forest was peaceful and full of bug Pokemon, the sounds of peaceful Butterfree and Pidgey chirping engulfed the forest. Chris trudged on behind his grandmother, rushing his hands through his jet black hair, looking around nervously for any signs of the enemy.

“No need to worry,” Tina said, as if she was reading his mind, “we’re safe, for the moment...”

Suddenly, with a swift movement of her hands, she pulled a pokeball away from the magnetic field of the hair pins and pressed a button. There was a flash of white light and in the same instance a huge black hound with white stripes running across its over – belly and graceful, arching horns materialized.

“Houndoom, you know what to do.” She said confidently, observing the large hound sniffing zealously, trying to pick up a scent.

“I never knew Houndoom’s could track!” said Chris in awe.

She chuckled happily. “When you’ve been training Pokemon for over fifty years, training a dog is a piece of cake.” She said with a grin on her face.

Chris wondered what the dog could smell; he’d heard that dogs had a nose a hundred times more sensitive than a humans’. Whatever it was, he was sure it was pleasant. From Chris’ perspective Viridian forest smelt of lush green grass and colorful flowers that perfumed the air with their unique scents, it smelt like one of those organic flowers you would buy from the market on Valentines Day, but only better. The forest was bustling with life, Caterpies, Metapods, Butterfree and numerous other Pokemon inhabited the warm, welcoming and stupendous nature of viridian forest.

The Houndoom suddenly stopped sniffing, stifled up and raised a paw towards the north.

“Follow me and stay close.” She said beginning to run swiftly through the forest with Houndoom at her side. She ran with great speed for someone at the age of sixty nine. Chris was barely keeping up.

“Hurry Chris!” she shouted back, “We don’t have any time to lose!”

“I’m coming” he mumbled, running after her.

They sped through the forest for hours and hours, occasionally taking long breaks and admiring the forest scenery. Finally, after a long run, they reached a clearing and saw a man walking slowly, as if he was innocent and didn’t look at all worried about being captured. He wore a black leather jacket and had dirty blonde hair.

“Gran, I think that’s him” Chris said, huffing and puffing from all the running he had been put through.

“Shh!” she snapped, “We have the element of surprise.”

Slowly, following his grandmother’s lead, Chris took a step forward.


He was thrown up into the air and cocooned in a sticky net that now dangled from a tree.

His grandmother turned around and ordered Houndoom to set him free. Houndoom took a breath, preparing to spit a ball of fire at the piece of silky thread that connected the net to the branch of the tree.

“I don’t think so” whispered a hoarse voice, “Beedrill, Pin missile!” The man who was just recently walking away ordered, startling Chris. Although, his grandmother, who kept calm and didn’t look startled at all, ordered Houndoom to use flamethrower on the oncoming Pin missile attack.

The missiles pierced through the air in swiftly, getting closer and closer. Sure enough, a merciless ball of fire sped through the air and burnt the helpless pins into smithereens.

Even though Chris was sure all the poisonous needles were destroyed, he suddenly started to feel drowsy and had this irresistible urge for sleep. He knew it sounded crazy, his life being at risk and him thinking of sleep, but he didn’t care anymore, he closed his eyes, looking at a large tree that stared him in the face, it was all going away… his eyelids closed slowly but surely, purging him of all his responsibilities for the moment.

He awoke in what seemed to be hours of slumber and was shocked to see Houndoom, a Pokemon that he had great respect for, bound and gagged with what looked to like a fire – proof cloth.

The man cackled delightfully, in an evil manner, remembering to gradually increase his volume as he went and simultaneously converting the Cackle into mad laughter. “Woke up, have you?”

Tina who looked confused but determined nonetheless, stretched her arm up into her black silky hair for another pokeball – there were none.

“B – But….. How did you? When did y –”

“I knew all along that someone would be sent after me, so I planned a trap to which you’re foolish companion fell into. Although,” he said, raising his finger as if he were explaining an important condition. “As a strategist I had to have a back up plan. This Beedrill that you are looking at isn’t you’re normal poison Pokemon. Beedrill’s Pin missile attack has been constantly refined and improved upon; it has a specialty to it, which makes it very different from other Beedrill. My Beedrill is able to successfully disguise and shoot an invisible needle, which has a sleeping toxin so powerful, that you feel like you’ve been asleep for days, when infact, you’ve only been asleep for about five minutes.” He said, with growing excitement at his ingenuity. “The Pin Missile attack was a fake – out, standard strategy, to help execute his Slumber Needle attack!”

“But… how? How could it have evaded Houndoom’s flamethrower attack?” She retorted, in disbelief.

“You’re thicker than a plank.” Said the tall man, “It was obvious that you would counter with a fire attack, So Beedrill fired a needle at very low altitude, he even aimed one at your comrade, even though that one was less likely to hit on account of him being “hung up.” he laughed mockingly.

Granny Tina looked down at her skirt, her eyes bulging up in fear, she had seen it now – the long needle had pierced through her dress and was completely colorless, she could only make out there was a needle there by looking at the impression on her usually cleave – free dress.

“The effects of that pin are painless,” He said looking proudly at his creation. “I hope you understand how I was able to take your Pokemon - or poach them, rather, away from you.” His face suddenly turned evil and twisted. “And now,” he said, pulling out a Pokeball and summoning a Pokemon that looked so ironically like a Pokeball, the Pokemon had a smug grin on its face and rolled up and down enthusiastically. “It’s time, to say good – bye!” he said summoning a Pidgeotto and gracefully climbing onto its back. He stood on Pidgeotto with both feet, not even bothering to hang his arms around it, as if he had no fear of falling.

During all the excitement Chris had managed to free himself of the web by continuously wiggling and kicking, his dark hair trashing over his pale white face, which was now red scarlet. He looked like one of those people in rehab, tied up and furiously trying to get free of the white bag and walls that encased them. The web had a very Pokemon – ish touch to it, undoubtedly spun by one of the trainers bug Pokemon. Chris was now standing behind a tree, some forty yards away; he stared uselessly as he realized that his Pokemon had been taken away too. Tears trickled down his face, he couldn’t bare it, he couldn’t watch his grandmother die. The look on her usually calm face sent shivers down his spine, he didn’t know what do. Running in to save her at this point would’ve been suicide.

Tia stood there watching the round, perilous Pokemon about to kill her. Her legs wouldn’t allow her to move. It could’ve been shock, or even pure fatigue that kept her rooted to the ground. As the oncoming Electrode got closer and closer her life seemed to flash before her eyes.


There was a huge explosion inflaming the trees and grass in that area of the forest, lighting up the already bright summer day. It was as if her life went out with a bang – pardon the pun.

“NOO!” Chris screamed, forgetting his decision to remain hidden, running towards the clearing at full pace, searching desperately for remains of a body. The criminal had flown away on his Pidgeotto, not even bothering to summon his electrode back into the round, red and white ball that was once its home.

Chris swore loudly, shouting words like “vengeance” and “revenge.” He would make him pay…. He remembered the scarred and pitted man, his tall image printed in Chris’ brain. He would make him pay….. He would make them all pay…
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Last edited by 2wings; 02-13-2008 at 12:01 PM.
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Old 02-10-2008, 03:16 PM
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Default Re: The life of an Avenger

“Chris, Chris...” A hand was on Chris’ shoulder, nudging him back to reality, “You all right mate? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” said Joseph Raymond, who was Chris’ best friend and right- hand man. He went everywhere with Chris, running his hand through his pure blonde hair and usually found fidgeting. Fidgeting was like what breathing is to all of us, it becomes such a usual routine that one doesn’t even consciously think when breathing. This was the case with Joe; he had to fidget or scratch some part of his body, not even minding if he was in public. He would be seen scratching his arse every now and then; it wasn’t an unusual site for Joe Raymond.

“Yeah, I’m all right.” Chris lied, clearing his throat.

The funeral lasted a few hours, it was held at the spot Granny Tia had died, since there was no body recovered. There was the unmistakable air of grief in the air and Chris looked up at the stand, not even listening to the numerous amounts of people taking their turn and talking about how good of a person she was and how much of a loss it was. He couldn’t take it anymore, he was done crying. Chris took a white rose and walked past all the benches, finally reaching the place where he knew she had stood before dieing, he let the creamy white rose slip from his finger. The flower took forever to drop from his hand, it was like something out of a movie, where everything was in slow motion. He looked down at where the flower hit the ground and started to walk away, accepting that his grandmother was gone. All that remained now was a burning feeling inside him, a feeling that seized control over him and made him want to kill the person that made his life miserable. In a single day, one man had spoiled his entire life. He had taking away what was dear and precious to him; His grandmother, his Pokemon….”

“Oi! Chris!” Joe shouted “Where are you headed?” determinedly jogging after him in his scratchy black suit.

Chris ignored this and walked on. He had decided on what he had to do. He would first go to Lavender and pickup some of the Pokemon that his Grandma bred there and take them along with him. He was going to look for the swine that killed his Grandmother, and when he did – It was the end of him.

“Listen, Chris.” Joe said, finally catching up and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking and I wont say its crazy cause I know how you feel, I just want you to know I’m behind you 100% I’m coming with you.

“Thanks Joe, I’m headed to Lavender first though. I’ve got to get my stuff and take one last look at the place – yeah,” he said nodding his head, “I’d like that.”
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Last edited by 2wings; 02-13-2008 at 12:02 PM.
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Old 02-13-2008, 12:02 PM
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Default Re: The life of an Avenger

Chapter 2

The beginning

It was 3:00 pm in Lavender Town, the town known for its Memorial Tower and ghost Pokemon. Chris and Joe had arrived early morning, sweating and breathing heavily in their suits. Joe was scratching relentlessly at his suit, complaining about how itchy the material was.

Chris and Joe were at his Mrs. Tia Bagwell’s house. A cozy grey colored cottage north of Lavender Town. The cottage blended in with its surroundings perfectly - the dull and grey coloring of Lavender Town. It was as if there was a funeral here everyday, which was very depressing as Chris and Joe had just arrived from one at the time.

Now fully dressed in black, shiny Jeans and a plain white shirt, Chris was ready to move out. Joe, who would never be caught wearing something non – fashionable, was dressed in dark blue jeans, and a decorative, Light blue shirt that had the words “Sorry Ladies, I’m Taken” Sprawled across it. This was all complimented with a Hip – hop type hat that sat on his dark black hair. Joe was sitting on a sofa inside the house, staring out at Chris, who was in the yard petting the variety of Pokemon his Grandma kept, trying to choose which to take on his journey.

Chris stopped petting the Charmander and nodded, looking decisive; He walked back into the house and saw Joe sitting on the sofa.

“God, I wish you wouldn’t wear that shirt.” Chris said, staring at Joe’s chest area in disgust.

“Hey, it keeps the ladies off me.” He said winking.

Chris laughed and looked at his best friend’s freckled face, his hair coming close to covering his eyes. He remembered how he was like in High school, always fidgeting in class; causing teachers to blow up in a fury of “Stop fidgeting!” To which he would re – act by looking back at the teachers in surprise, wondering how he had offended them. After all, fidgeting was…. Normal. Chris smiled and realized some things would never change, as he observed Joe fidgeting with the remote that once lay dormant on the brown, leather sofa.

“What?” Joe said, looking at Chris with a “Is there something on my face?” look.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just reminiscing.” He said, tearing his eyes away as he realized he was staring.

Chris was now armed with 5 Pokemon, which he had taken from his grandmother’s back yard. He didn’t feel at all guilty doing this, he usually didn’t take things without asking but this was different. And besides, it was in his grandma’s will. She wanted him to have her Pokemon, to take care of them after she passed away. He looked down at the belt that circled his waist; he didn’t know why all trainers wore it that way and why they each couldn’t have their own way to carry their Pokeballs. It reminded him again of his grandmother and he inhibited himself from crying. He promised himself wouldn’t cry, he had to be strong. He surveyed the Pokeballs around his waist and the thought of the Pokemon that inhabited them; An Arcanine, Pidgeotto, Dusclops, Aggron and Wobbofet. These weren’t the best of his Grandma’s Pokemon, as four of her best we’re taken away the day of her death. Her prized Pokemon, Gengar, was so well trained that he probably went raving mad when Team Poach summoned him out of his Pokeball.

“You do realize the only Pokemon I have is this.” Joe complained, raising up a Pokeball that contained Blastoise.

“Yeah I know, that’s why were taking a trip to capture you some Pokemon, there aren’t many Pokemon left for you to take here, its just Charmander and Bonsley. I was thinking, maybe we should take a visit to the Memorial Tower. There are loads of Ghost - type Pokemon there.

“Cool!” Joe replied. “I’ve been wanting a Ghost type Pokemon.”

With that, they set off to the Memorial Tower, the gentle breeze hitting their faces as they stepped out of the cottage and made their way towards the monument of the Town.

Within 10 minutes they arrived at the door of the tall and glassy tower, a grim sadness already in the air. They entered the building and spotted a lady behind a desk. She was a pretty, blonde haired girl around their age. Joe smiled and walked up to the counter.

“Hey, I’m new to town and I was wondering if you could show me around sometime?” He said, displaying one of his most charming smiles.

The girl looked up, revealing her radiant beauty. She looked like Russian super – model.
“Sorry,” She said, in a heavy Russian accent. “I’m taken,” Looking down pointedly at his shirt. “But you could ask that poor lonely boy behind you, I’m sure he’s from these parts.” She said, winking at Chris.

Chris stood fixed behind Joe, his arms folded. He laughed at the girl’s witty reply. “Hello Dimitra.” He said, trying to not say anything to embarrass Joe any further.

Dimitra stood up and walked around the desk that obstructed her from Chris. She pulled out a hair pin that held her hair together in a bun and shook her head from side to side, freeing her hair and allowing it to float in the air. She looked even more beautiful with her hair down. “I’m going on my break, I heard about your grandmother Chris. I’m sorry.” She said, gliding towards him and pecking him on his cheek.

Chris tried his best not to blush and took a whiff of her perfume during her contiguity.

“Mmnnh” he said, loud enough for her to hear him. “Paris by Night, I take it?”
Chris had a thing for spotting perfume brands, a thing that he liked to use to his advantage when charming women.

“Chris, you naughty boy, you never fail to impress me.” She said, walking off and blowing him a kiss. “I must be off now. Ciao.”

Joe stared at the scene in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Chris laughed, anticipating the inevitable reply on Joe’s shocked and slightly outraged expression. “Joe you prat, I told you not to wear that shirt. And besides you didn’t stand a chance with a girl like that, why did you do it?”

Joe stared at Chris, looking like Brad Pitt in the movie “Oceans 11” just before replying
“Because it can’t be done.” But Chris was also sure there was a bit of “Why didn’t you stop me you arse.”

“You know her?” Joe said looking still looking shocked.

“Yeah, we used to go out.” Said Chris, wishing he could take back what he said.

Joe exploded and started to curse at him. “You couldn’t have told me that before I made a fool out of myself?!?”

“Easy, calm down. Remember we came here for Pokemon, not girls.” Chris said, rolling his eyes. Joe hated being embarrassed in front of girls, especially the good looking ones.

“Yeah, you’re right,” He said, trying to let go of his anger. “Look, I’m sorry, you’re going through a hard time, with your grandma dieing and everything...”

“Don’t do that.” Chris said, becoming angry for the first time. He didn’t like people treating him like a small child after he’d lost his grandmother. It was as if he was more respected now for being an orphan. As if he needed help to stand on his two feet after stumbling. He was suddenly being recognized and shown respect and with people continuously trying to say that they understood. People telling him that he shouldn’t be thinking about revenge. How did they know how he felt? How did they know how it felt like to watch your closest relative, your only relative, die in front of you? “Don’t start being empathic when you know nothing about how I feel.”

“I was just trying to help.” Joe said shrugging.

“Yeah, well, you can’t.” Chris said looking miserable now. “Let’s go upstairs, maybe we’ll find something.”

They strolled around the building, roaming around the dark colored building that looked like an indoor cemetery. They saw people looking down at gravestones and mourning for their lost Pokemon. Chris suddenly remembered a speech that one of his Grandmother’s good friends had given during the funeral. It was something like this:

“Life is like the trickling of water down a roof on a cold winter’s day. The water edges onwards, enduring the frosty cold, determined to stay liquid. But it is inevitable that it will meet the sloping edge and will drip away gradually but surely, losing all its potential and finally giving in. As it freezes all its life flashes away from it, but do not dismay, for it is a natural cycle, summer will arrive and the remains of winter will evaporate, not completely vanish. It is always good to know that the water is still there, up in the clouds, safe from the terrors of the world. This cycle ruthlessly repeats itself, un - defied by human existence and it is unfortunate but inevitable that one day, we will all freeze and then evaporate, but it’s all right, its Okay. For it is meant to be that way. It is inevitable that all of us will end up in the sky with the others that have been taken away.”

This was the only speech that really got to Chris. It was really deep. Suddenly, out of the blue, Chris’ feet went through a round black ball that was surrounded by a flaming purple – gas. Much to his dismay the ball had eyes, Big and wide, with what looked like mascara outlining them. It was a Pokemon.

Gastly woke up from its slumber and looked outraged at what had interrupted its sleep – Chris. Wisely sensing danger, Chris summoned Duskull, being the only Pokemon in his arsenal that could take on Gastly without knocking it out in one hit.

“Gaaaaastly!” It shouted, moving forward and opening its mouth, revealing two developing fangs and a red scarlet tongue. Sticking out its tongue, it lunged at Duskull and launched its Lick attack, spreading its large red tongue well across the now disheveled Duskull’s face. Duskull’s eyes bulged up, it looked disgusted and shocked.

“Duskull use Shadow ball!” Chris ordered but Duskull didn’t move, it was paralyzed and stood rooted on the spot.

Gastly moved away and summoned a huge pin that floated in the air, perilously and threateningly staring Gastly in the face. Suddenly it sped at Gastly and injected it precisely.

A ghostly spirit flew out of Gastly, like some exorcism manifestation. The visible spirit rushed at Duskull, pouring into it and cursing it.

This was bad – Duskull was paralyzed and cursed, one blast from Duskull would be enough to weaken the Ghastly enough to throw a Pokeball at it, but it was risky, if Duskull didn’t respond again it would be curtains for it. Chris chose to take a chance.

“Come on Duskull! I know you can do it! Night Shade!” Duskull struggled and drew courage from his trainer’s words; it started to glow with dark purple energy. With all the effort it could gather Duskull shot the dark purple energy at the Gastly, who was caught off – guard. The Nightshade hit the gaseous Pokemon, throwing it against a tombstone.

The Gastly looked like it was ready to give up, but it wasn’t determined to lose, it used Destiny bond, a sure act of desperation. But Chris wasn’t intending on making it faint. Quite the contrary, he was going to revive it at the closest Pokemon center – As soon as he had caught it. He pulled a White – Red Pokeball from his belt, it had a great feel to it, as if it assured him that it would catch the Ghost Pokemon. Even though Chris knew this Pokemon would be for Joe, he kissed the spherical ball for good luck and threw it as skillfully as he could at the now helpless pokeball. He then recalled Duskull almost simultaneously; a purple energy shot from Duskull’s pokeball and encased it once again in its inhibited home.

The Pokeball had struck the Gastly lightly and had encased it too, the pokeball vibrated from left to right on the spot.

Tick, Tick, Tick…


Pokemon: Gastly
Length: 28.5k
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Old 02-13-2008, 05:53 PM
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Default Re: The life of an Avenger

Here ya go. I'll edit this post with it. =P

It won't be too long, since I'm awful tired.

Plot / Introduction

Woah, this is something I thought was a really, really creative and imaginitive part of your story. You elaborated it so much from a basic plot, even though robbing something is overused, this was so well thought out. I could really see the effort that was put into this, kudos for that. I really think this was so creative, I hate it when people just use the overused plot, and add some twists then get away with it. This was really original, great job with this, I have to say. ^_^ I really think this is beyond itsy bitsy creative. Great job on this. You described Chris very well also, I could really see him and the wet grass, great job.


This was good too. :3 You aimed right near the maximum, which is something everyone wants to do. All the plot and description you fleshed out really helped into making this. I think you remembered that graders love length (not me though, it takes longer. xDD). Remember though, it's quality, not qauntity.

Spelling / Grammar

This was decent, really. I see you have a pretty good grasp of grammar, which is good to have. I didn't see many typos or anything, so I can see you know to look too. :D Just remember, always scan through your story a couple of times quickly just to see if you can spot some of the small mistakes yourself. It helps both you and me. So, all in all, well done with this section. Though, watch for small typos and incorrect wording.

Chris looked down at his jet black Armani shoes that rested on the dewy,
"jet black" should be "jet-black".

He wore a black tie making him look very much like a dully colored painting.
"dully coloured" should be "dully-coloured".

, and a couple of very valuable fossils, had been stolen by a man
Just some incorrect wording, man should be before "couple" by putting stole after it.

, rushing his hands through his jet black hair,
Again with the "jet black" spelling, add a "-".

I’m behind you 100% I’m coming with you
Instead of using numeric value for the percentage, use the following. ' One hundred percent '.


This was really vivid, I could picture an accure, well drawn picture now, I really could. Your descriptions were really accurate, you used exciting and creative adjectives. Instead of using the colour ones like; 'red', 'blue' and such; you used 'ruby', 'sapphire' and whatnot. and that's what you should always do. I could also see all of the things in most of my senses (except touch ofcourse, which is virtually impossible. xDD) and they were really clear. You included smell, sight, sound, feelings, and sense. That's really, I mean really good when it comes to description, because a lot of people never get that far. So well done.


This was quite long and good, and your imagination was great here. I really though this was well thought out. So kudos here aswell, you could of used your surroundings though. A chase or maybe hitting a Pokémon against the wall would add suspence and make it more exciting. So, well done here. ^^;


This was overall a great story, Ghastly Captured!

| Vote me and PyreTheTorchic in MoTM when it comes. :3 |

[\ Pokémon Frenzy -URPG - VPP Stats - PyreXRyan - /]

Last edited by pikahero2; 02-13-2008 at 06:27 PM.
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Old 02-13-2008, 07:26 PM
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Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: In My House.
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Default Re: The life of an Avenger

Thanks alot for the really good grade, beleive it or not, the part about spelling "coloured" with a "u" made me laugh. I spell it without the "u" because MS word insists and bieng an American software, i presumed that most of pe2k's graders are American and perhaps prefer to see i spelt thier way.

This was actually very annoying to me, studying in a British school and using an American eiditing program. Ironically, it was also hilarious. I made some brutal comments on how American spelling lacks flamboyance in my next story in the making:

"The co - existence."

Hopefully you will read it (maybe even grade it) and you will then realise what im talking about. Its almost done and i will post it tommorow along with another story for Valentines. I really am in the writing mood aren't I?

Thanks again.

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Last edited by 2wings; 02-16-2008 at 05:00 AM.
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