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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 12-04-2008, 09:10 PM
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Default Ziggy Zigbar and the Dunsparce of Doom [WWC]

This probably will end up being a bit more adventure than humorous, but oh well. I was trying to focus on humor for this story, but we'll see if it works. ^^;

PLEASE NOTE: As of right now, this story has had no editting and isn't that great. ^^; Until I finish it I don't plan on going back and smoothing things out, but I'm posting it regardless because... Okay, I don't know. But yeah, read at your own risk.


Ziggy Zigbar and the Dunsparce of Doom


Ziggy Zigbar found himself face down in the dusty road between Cherrygrove Town and Violet City, unsure of how it was he had gotten there. Slowly, since his muscles were sore from the amount of walking he had already done that day, he lifted himself up, and climbed to his feet. Fatigue gripped his limbs, and only sheer force of will kept him from falling again. He managed to stumble his way to the shade beneath a tree and all but collapsed, sitting with his back leaning against the trunk. He ruffled a hand through his mop of black hair, surprised to find that the movement kicked up a thick layer of gray-brown dirt and dust. He sighed, leaning one dirty arm on his pack.

His first day as a Pokemon Trainer had been exhausting. First he had walked from his home town of Cherrygrove to New Bark Town, in order to obtain his training license. Then, he had walked back to Cherrygrove on an errand, then back to New Bark, and finally back to Cherrygrove again to really start. Now, finally, he was almost to Violet, but not quite close enough. He was tired beyond all belief, and doing anything but rest at the moment was out of the question.

At the age of twelve, Ziggy was a little old to be starting his journey, but the first year he had taken the exam to get his license, he'd failed. Miserably. He was a horrible test taker anyway, and then his father, a professional trainer and fairly well known in the region of Johto, had been furious. It tainted his name that his youngest son had failed the training license exam, only adding to the fact that his older son, Joey, had decided to become a Pokemon nurse. While his father was home (which wasn't very often, since he still often spent time traveling and battling), Ziggy was drilled in training techniques, attack names, and battle strategies. Perhaps worse was the times when he and his father would go 'camping', when Ziggy was expected to do everything in setting up camp, cooking, building a fire, ecetera, while his father sat in a folding chair and shouted orders. It was supposed to teach him how to be a good trainer, but when Ziggy failed the test for a second time, his father grew exasperated with him.

"Eustace, son," he had said (for Ziggy's real name was Eustace, much though he hated it, hence why he went instead by Ziggy), "I can't do anything else for you. If you don't want it, there's no way you'll ever become a trainer."

The problem was, Ziggy wanted to be a trainer. He didn't particularly care about battling and winning, but he liked Pokemon. He was far too squimish to become a nurse, though, like his brother Joey, and he couldn't just give up Pokemon altogether and become a lawyer, like his older sister Ranna. So, he turned to his mother for help.

Joyous Zigbar was a little more understanding. She was a nurse at the Pokemon Center in Cherrygrove, and even if she was a little scatterbrained and forgetful, she was very kind and gentle. She gave Ziggy a much nicer, and more regular, education on Pokemon. It was thanks to her that he had even passed the third time, though it had been a close thing. As a 'gift', Ziggy's father had given him a Pokemon, rather than letting him obtain one at the Pokemon Laboratory in New Bark. He had intended to give Ziggy a cute, tame little Mareep, but on accident, he gave his son a Pokeball containing a wild Ekans he had caught recently instead. The purple serpent, rather than attacking Ziggy, seemed to take a liking to Ziggy. No one understood how it had happened, but Ziggy didn't care. He was quite happy with the Ekans he nicknamed Firli.

He wasn't happy now though. Ziggy closed his eyes, briefly contemplating how safe it would be to simply sit and sleep here by the road for a moment. He finally decided to, instead, bring out Firli to keep watch while he slept. It took him several more minutes to actually do it. First, he began rummanging in his bag. He took out a jar of pickles with a sigh. His mother always forgot that it was Joey that liked pickles, not him. When he didn't find the Pokeball, he panicked, and then realized that it was on his belt the whole time. He plucked it off, pressed the button to enlargen the ball, and then tossed the ball. It split open, dividing into red and white hemispheres as it hit the ground. Bright white light spilled out of it in a torrent, falling and condensing into a single fluid shape. The light died down, revealing a long serpentine creature. It was covered in a myraid of purple scales, with a band of yellow not far below its angular head. Large, yellow, slit-pupiled eyes turned to his exhausted trainer, and acquired an almost sympathetic look as a forked tongue slid out from between two tiny fangs.

"Sorry, Firli, no battle." The boy smiled sheepishly. "I just... Need to rest. Could you watch for me?" The Ekans nodded curtly, shaking the tiny yellow rattle at the end of his tail in emphasis. Assured that he didn't have to worry, Ziggy fell sound asleep. Firli slithered gently around his trainer's shoulders, picking it as a spot from where he could easily spy any coming threats and protect them both. And so they remained, for several hours, until Ziggy was awakened abruptly by a sharp rattling in his left ear. His eyes shot open, and he would have yelped if it hadn't been for Firli's bright gold eyes glaring at him. There was definitely something wrong. It didn't take him very long to figure out what.

Past the head of the snake that had wrapped himself firmly, but not too tightly, around his neck, he saw a large black creature. It was canine in origin, though its limbs were rather skinny and long, though they could hardly be called gangly. Most of it was obsidian in color, aside from a deep red on its belly and muzzle. Lethal-looking demonic horns curved outward from the back of the dog's head, seeming to compliment the rib-like white bones lining its back and its long, thin tail that ended in an arrow head shape. In the center of its chest, like the pendant of some gruesome necklace, was a skull. This fearsome appearence, though, was offset by the fact that the Houndoom's tongue was lolling out of its mouth in an almost comical fashion as it panted in the midday heat. Regardless, Ziggy found himself swallowing nervously. Houndoom were certainly not to be trifled with, not for a newbie, and rather pitiful, trainer like himself. He knew Firli was well ready to fight if need be, but the poor snake would be ripped apart by the huge teeth in that creature's maw. It seemed friendly enough, at least. Carefully, Ziggy climbed to his feet, Firli still hanging about his neck like an oversized necklace. The hellhound, which had been sitting in the middle of the road, took this movement as an invitation, and bounced onto its claw-tipped paws amiably and all but pranced over to him, tail wagging. It thrust its web-shaped snout under his hand, not giving the boy a chance to even think about not petting it.

"G-good boy," Ziggy managed to gasp, his mind somewhere between amazement, terror, and excitement at getting the chance to touch such a magestic creature. After it had been scratched thoroughly behind both horns, and Firli was decidedly frazzled by the Houndoom's close proximity, it noticed something and moved away from him, sniffing. With surprise, Ziggy watched as it sniffed the top of the pickly jar he had left out of his pack, tail waving lazily. It licked the jar once, then turned to him with pleading red eyes and whined pitifully.

With that face, Ziggy could hardly refuse, as strange though it all was.He unscrewed the jar, with no small amount of effort, and took out one of the pungent vegetables. He offered it to the Houndoom, who ate it in a flash and, with tail pounding the dirt road, waited expectantly for another. In much that way, it proceeded to eat the entire jar, and only once the container was empty did the the canine Pokemon seem satisfied. As it began to lay down, Ziggy caught the flash of sunlight on metal near its neck. He stood slowly and moved to the Houndoom's side, still wary, and saw what it was. Around its neck was a black strip of thick leather, a collar. It seemed to have gotten twisted around, so that the front, the portion with the metal tag, was facing the side. Engraved on it was an address.

"You belong to someone?" He said allowed, more to himself than to the Pokemon. It looked at him with an expression that seemed to say, 'well, duh.' The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Why would there be a tame, pickle-eating Houndoom just outside Violet City if it didn't belong to someone?
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Last edited by Draconic_Espeon; 12-08-2008 at 08:53 PM.
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