Member List
Calendar
F.A.Q.
Search
Log Out
Pokemon Forum - Pokemon Elite 2000  
 

Go Back   Pokemon Forum - Pokemon Elite 2000 » Pokemon RPG's » Pokemon Ultra RPG » Stories

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


Reply
 
Thread Tools
  #1  
Old 01-25-2009, 10:28 PM
Blue- Offline
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oregon~
Posts: 1,998
Send a message via Yahoo to Blue-
Default The Wasteland

Sounds sinister, right? Well... it's not. xP

After two years of being a member of this forum, I have finally felt motivated enough to write a URPG story... meaning this is my first story ever.

Chapter 1

Just like every morning, I blinked open my weary amber eyes to see the numerous twigs and sticks of my nest, as jumbled as ever after another night full of terrifying winds and pelting rain. As I looked up, I could see huge boughs of oak leaves towering over my feathered head, along with faint glimmers of water huddling on the leaves, left over from the storm. To my right, there was no protection; only a few short maples, whose branches weren’t long enough to give any shelter from the harsh airstreams that blasted through the night before.

The view from that direction wasn’t nice either; only a wide expanse of undergrowth and mushroom covered stumps decorated the surrounding area. I was nestled on the very edge of the forest, with an expanse of stump-covered land on the other side. It used to be a lush forest brimming with activity, full of wildlife and bubbling streams. But only a season after I hatched, pale skinned people and their frightening machines came and chopped everything down. It has only been three seasons since then, and the Pokemon of the remaining forest do not welcome humans onto their land anymore.

I took all of this in, in a matter of seconds, and than pushed myself up into a standing position. Unfortunately, this only raised me up an inch off of the structure of my nest. Looking down at my body, I sighed. I had always been short. Every Taillow is. My friends never seemed to realize this though, and from the moment they laid eyes on me, they called me Stumpy- a nickname I detest utterly. I quickly found out that I wasn’t the only one in the group to be called some such; every one of my friends had a nickname. They, too, had been named after their faults. After they told me that it was simply for fun, I noticed that my frustration at being teased by them transformed into adoration. Even with them calling me 'Stumpy', I quickly came to be a part of their group.

After sighing once more, I stretched my black wings outward in the direction of the wasteland, and let a soft birdcall escape my beak. I can’t stay depressed forever, I thought, as a light breeze fluttered around my body, bringing the smells of autumn with it. My feathers ruffled slightly with the wind, but it was hardly noticeable among the throng of astonishing odors the breeze carried. The scents of mashed apple, crushed leaves, and autumn flowers washed over me, all equally appreciated.

“Stuuuuuummmmpppyyyy~!!!”

A piercing shriek brought me back to reality. Oh great. The loudest, dumbest, and most annoying Psyduck in the entire forest was back, trying to ruin yet another day of my life. His shenanigans, his idiocy, his HONK… just imagining such terror made me want to fly away, carried over the dry wasteland of stumps by the autumn breeze as far as possible from the noisy abomination, but my feet stayed firmly planted on the bottom of my nest. Digging my talons into the flurry of twigs beneath me, I weakly trilled, “I’m. Up. Here…~”

“Stummm~ppyyy!! Hiiii theeerrreee!!” the Psyduck replied, ten feet down from where I was perched, standing right up against the rough bark of the tree trunk. He looked stupidly happy, with his little yellow tail wagging like that of a Poochyena about to chow down on a freshly killed Magikarp. It took some effort not to scrunch my face up in disgust.

“What’s up, Acre?” I managed to say, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Acre looked up at me with brimming brown eyes, obviously excited about something. I almost felt sorry for him, since he was obviously here because our friends were having a meeting... or rather, the Pokemon he thought he was friends with.

The reason we called him Acre was simply because all of us - ALL of us - wanted to be at least an acre away from him at any given time. Every one of us in the group despised him on some level, and all agreed that he was the biggest pest in the forest. I couldn’t describe it better if I tried. He was just that frustrating.

“The group’s holdin’ a meeting right now!! It’s reeeeallllllyyyy importannnn~t!!!!” Acre squealed, while jumping up and down from excitement. I could almost feel the Oak tree start to shake from under his weight. “C’mon Stumpy, you’ve just gottttaaa come!!”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming!” I squawked, not able to contain my irritation any longer. I hopped off of the edge of my nest, and let the breeze do the rest as I glided down to the dew-covered grass of the wasteland below. The ground was covered in mud, lying in wait under the tall grass after the storm the night before. Because of my height, not only did my legs get covered in mud, so did my underbelly. Sighing and wondering how today could get any more miserable, I made my way through the murky goop towards Acre. The mud felt terribly sticky - stickier than usual, that is - and made my feathers clump together uncomfortably as I walked. Or rather, tried to walk.

Irritating me even further, Acre started flailing his arms, his brown eyes staring blankly at me. He was simply standing there, yards away, watching as I desperately tried to get out of the mud. But I couldn’t! I was stuck, twisting and turning every which way, trying to make it out, but I couldn’t budge. After a few minutes of this embarrassing display, Acre seemed to notice something was amiss. He stopped moving his arms, and waddled towards my now hopelessly mud covered body, splotches of it covering my breast and wings after the struggle. “Are you stuck?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Yes,” I snarled, exasperated. Acre, being two feet taller than I was, easily plucked me out of the mud, and carried me back to the shade of the forest. He set me down gently on the root of a pine tree, and waited. Up close, I could see that he was actually not as portly as most Psyducks. Maybe he wasn't really as bad as I had thought. “Thanks Acre. You really-,”

“AAHHHHHAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA~!!!!” A loud honk of laughter broke me off.

“St-st-st-stumpy!! You really are… are… SHORT!” Acre clutched at his yellow stomach, honking hysterically. “Only someone as small as you… c-could… get stuck in the mud like that!!” I could only watch as he rolled on the needle-strewn forest floor, laughing and honking at the same time.

I really hate him.

~~~~
__________________
Three years of snow

The Wasteland




Last edited by Blue-; 05-13-2009 at 02:05 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 01-26-2009, 03:57 AM
Blue- Offline
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oregon~
Posts: 1,998
Send a message via Yahoo to Blue-
Default Re: The Wasteland

Chapter 2

The forest was surprisingly quiet this morning. Sunlight sprinkled over the forest floor in places, but most of the forest remained heavily clothed in shade. Occasionally Acre and I would hear a rustle in the bushes beside us - or see a Weedle slinking through the branches of a tall Oak - but no Pokemon crossed our paths directly.

This was abnormal! Usually the forest was filled with noise; buzzing, screeching, growling… but today, a feeling of solemnity was cast over the land, bringing with it a prolonged silence. Confusion and concern started to overwhelm me, but I kept my beak shut. I refused to talk to the imbecile waddling beside me; not after he had laughed so openly at my expense. I abhorred his presence, and desperately wanted to fly to the meeting on my own. Unfortunately, I hadn't the slightest clue where it would be held. I was being forced together with this atrocity by fate, whether I liked it or not.

Suddenly, Acre stopped walking. We were standing beside a huddle of bramble bushes, on the edge of a small clearing. I couldn’t see over the bushes, and could only make out glimpses of sunlight through the brambles. Acre leaned down and whispered, “This is the place! The guys should be here soon!!” Just as I was about to ask why he was being so quiet, he caught me from behind and lifted me up near his flat orange bill.

“W-what are you DOING?” I screeched, horrified, as his stubby fingers dug into my mud-caked sides.

"I'm helping you out!" Acre replied. I knew what was coming when he lifted my body up over his head. Oh no you don't!

I furiously bat my wings against his arms, showering him in layers of dried mud and dust. The dust made him sneeze, causing him to hurl me into the clearing, right over the tops of the prickly brambles, exactly as he had planned.

I landed awkwardly on the dry soil of the clearing, completely intact but burning with rage. I turned my head towards Acre, a dangerous glint in my amber eyes, but found that he had disappeared. I could faintly hear the thwomp thwomp of his webbed feet slapping the ground as he walked. Where was he going?

“Hey, Stumpy! Nice landing.” I turned around once more to find a Poochyena sitting on a rotting log nearby, washing his forepaw. He looked down towards me, his olive eyes slanted, a sly smirk on his face. If he opened his mouth, I would be able to see a chip in his lower canine. He never had told me how he'd received it, and acted embarrassed whenever his chipped tooth was brought up. I assumed that the story was demeaning in some way, which was odd to think, since normally he came across as incredibly clever and suave. Perhaps this wasn't so, but I didn't have time to reflect on it at the moment.

“I saw that look. You’re up to something, aren’t you Shell?” I blurted, unable to keep my curiosity contained. Shell, being the strongest and most courageous of our group, quickly became our leader. He always came up with wild ideas, each of them having one central theme; helping the forest. It’s not that these plans don’t work, but they never turn out exactly the way he expects them to. They usually end up backfiring on him. Somehow, because of this, he ended up being named Shell, but nobody will ever tell me why when I ask.

“You bet I am. But don't expect to hear anything 'till the rest get here,” he spat, causing me to jump with slight fear. Shell didn't seem to notice however, and continued talking animatedly. “I got some news this morning that could change our lives forever! It affects everybody in the forest... and guess what? We're going to be the ones who make sure the problem goes away. If we pull it off, we'll be the forest's heroes! ... Or something.” He grinned, probably salivating at the thought. I was starting to get impatient. Heroes? Changing my life? This is important stuff! I deserve to be told about it now!

Shell swept his tousled gray tail over the hollow log he sat upon, just as impatient as I was. Suddenly, the bramble bushes rustled. Both of our heads swiveled towards the sound, but the sight that appeared was only a slightly disheveled Acre, his body covered in tiny scratches and cuts. “I couldn’t find any other way around the brambles…” he muttered, his expression forlorn. Seeing those wounds, I realized with a jolt that Acre had been helping me out. I could've ended up like him! Even though I hated his guts, my stomach started to churn with guilt. My pride wouldn't allow me to apologize to Acre though, especially not in front of an authority figure like Shell.

I turned my amber gaze away from Acre, and stared with shame at the thorns of a nearby bramble bush for a few moments, their red hue becoming permanently etched in my retinas. Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore, and swept my emotions and thoughts aside, trying to find other things to think about. Finding something, anything, was difficult, but what confused me more was the reason behind this sudden explosion of shame. Was it guilt about all the times I had teased him along with the others? Maybe he really wasn't as bad as I had thought. Perhaps he just wanted to be accepted? These thoughts started to swirl in my mind, and even as I tried to push them away, they kept coming back... until I noticed the leftover muck on my feathers. The previous events of the morning flooded back to me, and with a huff (which went unnoticed by the others), I started preening, my guilt and raging emotions slowly subsiding.

A few minutes of silence passed between us, Acre examining his injuries, Shell scowling, and me trying to swipe the dust and mud off of my feathers. This was a tedious process, especially since I couldn’t quite reach the mud that was on my underbelly. I didn’t want to look stupid and start rubbing my body against the ground however, so I eventually gave up.

Just as I was settling onto a pile of orange maple leaves, a blue and green blur shot from underneath a bramble bush. It crashed into the log that Shell was lying on, causing him to snarl in agitation. “Oh, hey Scruffy!” Acre exclaimed. Indeed, it was Scruffy; the most soot-covered Oddish in the entire forest (and quite possibly the world). I didn’t feel so dirty all of a sudden.

Scruffy jumped up, revealing layers and layers of topsoil; it seemed to be stuck in every crevice of his being. There was dirt scattered over the dark green leaves growing from his head, filth dispersed over his smiling face, muck sullying the bottoms of his oval-shaped feet. It was everywhere! “Hey, guys! Has the meeting started yet?”

“Nope,” Shell answered. “Patch, Moan, and River aren’t here yet.”

“Awww, I hate waiting! C’mon Shell, just tell us early for once, please?” Throughout all his whining, his smile remained stuck to his face. Scruffy always stayed cheerful. He said it was because he didn’t worry about keeping up appearances like the rest of us.

“Never,” Shell replied, frowning slightly. "Though I just might, if those three prudes keep us waiting any longer!"

Almost as if a wish had been granted, the three mentioned individuals tumbled into the clearing with a crash. At the sight of them, Shell started muttering unmentionable curses. Both Acre and Scruffy looked excited however, staring intently as a female Nidoran, a Meowth, and a Pidgey all began to groan. Bramble tendrils and debris lay scattered at their feet, and it was obvious that they had all tried to accomplish what Scruffy had done, but failed.

“Ahhhh~ Just look at all these scratches! I’m never listening to you again, Moan!” the Nidoran complained. As the Meowth beside her started to stir, she checked the pads of her paws for any signs of bleeding. Unlike normal Nidoran, her body didn't have any purple spots on it. Her fur was an unending shade of blue. This was a warning signal to all other Pokemon that the venom stored in the spikes on her back was more dangerous than a normal Nidoran's poison.

“Really? Worked fine for me. I guess you and River were just too fat, and couldn't get under the brambles properly!" Moan replied cockily, though it was an obvious lie, as his body was covered in scratches as well. The Nidoran simply snorted, and stepped forward until she was nose to nose with Moan.

“You’re the worst liar I’ve ever met! Honestly, I can't believe I've put up with you for so long!” she raged, while Moan proceeded to look more and more uncomfortable. The tip of his tail furled and unfurled nervously. Just as I thought he was going to crack under the pressure of her scorching gaze, Moan backflipped onto his forepaws, swiveled until he was facing the hotheaded female again, and managed to come up with a decent comeback.

“Well, Patch, you aren’t too great yourself! You have no patience, and you’re always screwing things up for the rest of us. Face it; you're an outright klutz!” Moan seemed to have hit a nerve. Immediately after he said this, Patch tackled him, her eyes burning with loathing. The two wrestled for awhile, but Moan’s claws stayed sheathed, and Patch was very careful not to poke him with one of her poisonous horns.

Meanwhile, River ignored the two’s horseplay, and nestled herself on the log beside Shell. As she did so, one of her wing tips brushed against Shell’s smoke gray pelt. Instantaneously, a shudder ran down the length of his spine, and I could hear every thump of his heart as loudly as I could hear Scruffy and Acre cheering on the wrestling match. Shell started to shiver, but wasn't in pain. He didn't look tortured at all. In fact, he seemed strangely elated, as if that one touch from River's feather had caused him to go crazy. But why? Suddenly, the weight of realization hit me, and I almost choked at the revelation. Shell liked River?

I had to admit, River was beautiful, even for a Pidgey. Her talons shone brilliantly in the sunlight, her tawny colored feathers looked delightfully soft, and her birdcall was the most musical in the forest. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky above, and her smile - although rarely shown - was breathtaking. River always remained calm and collected, and was sophisticated; demure. I often wondered why she hung around a group of idiots like us, when she could be doing something much more fulfilling. No matter what, the fact still stood that she was a Pidgey, and Shell was a Poochyena. Shell probably ate Pidgey for dinner! How - even though she is incredible - could he like her?

As I tried to wrap my mind around this however, Shell howled, and everyone's heads turned towards him, looking curiously at him. With my mind still rattled with questions, I too turned my head around to stare at Shell's forced cool.

“Let's begin...”

~~~~
__________________
Three years of snow

The Wasteland




Last edited by Blue-; 07-04-2009 at 05:00 PM.
Reply With Quote
  #3  
Old 03-11-2009, 12:11 AM
Blue- Offline
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oregon~
Posts: 1,998
Send a message via Yahoo to Blue-
Default Re: The Wasteland

Chapter 3

“Not all of you heard about this, so allow me to explain.” Shell stood confidently atop the log as he addressed us, his booming voice compelling us to listen to his words. Everyone had huddled together in a tight circle, and was now watching the Poochyena closely, not daring to make a sound – or even flinch – in case it caused them to miss their leader’s words. Even Patch and Moan, who were almost always yapping about something, kept quiet as the Poochyena continued to speak.

I was the only one who remained distracted. I kept my eye on River, studying her reactions towards Shell. Once I had gotten over the initial shock of finding out about the Poochyena's love for River, I quickly realized that it might not just be Shell who felt that way. Maybe River knew about Shell's feelings or - and this was my biggest fear - she might even like him back! They could be in a... relationship. The very thought of this made my talons sink deeply into the maple leaves I was standing on, and for a second, I imagined the crinkled red leaves to be Shell's neck. I gasped slightly, and shook my head, dismissing the thought.

I continued to eye her, oddly desperate in disproving any inkling of love she may feel. As I observed, the Pidgey remained as calm as ever. Her head was inclined towards Shell, but she seemed to simply be listening in, her interest piqued only by the words escaping his mouth. Her icy blue eyes weren’t glazed over in affection, or even adoration, as she listened. River didn't act like she was at all infatuated with him. She was only interested - it seemed - in the situation the Poochyena was relaying.

But I couldn't be sure.

I wasn't exactly an expert when it came to things like ‘love’. I've certainly never felt that way about a Pokemon before, anyway. I still consider females to be my friends, and nothing more. Shell seems to have moved on from that now though. He's matured... and I can't help but be jealous of him. After all, I've never been able to compare to him before. I have always been inferior. Never as strong, never as brave, never as loved... and now, he's bested me again. How he had managed to make me feel as low as dirt, I wasn't sure. Everyone grew up at a different rate; it certainly wasn't a competition...

The collective murmuring of the Pokemon around me pulled me back into reality. Ruffling my feathers hastily, I tried to listen back in to the conversation.

“… And the forest has been almost eerily quiet, right? Well, I asked one of my Mightyena elders about it, and he told me something….” Shell paused, and grinned as my friends pushed him to continue. I was more than a little confused. Miss two minutes and... “He told me that humans are coming to the forest.”

"What?" Patch screeched, her violet eyes flaming. Moan, who was standing beside her, took a few hasty steps back. "Y-you mean they're coming to... finish the job?" At this, everyone in the clearing flew into a panic, screaming and yelping in dismay. Acre - to my frustration - started honking at full volume, running around in circles, clutching his giant balloon of a head, while River suddenly grew an enormous urge to preen, yanking her breast feathers out in an unsettling flurry of rage, her calm demeanor becoming all but lost in the sea of panic. Even Scruffy's everlasting smile was swiped away by the news. I myself was starting to panic, once Patch's words sank in. Finish the job? We all knew what that entailed. The humans were coming back to chop down the rest of our forest home!

"Guys, wait," Shell cried, just as I was preparing to scrape the dirt off of my underbelly. I shall vanquish you, foul mud!

"Guys!" Shell roared, and just as suddenly as it had begun, all the mayhem ceased. "Look... you guys need to calm down. I only said it that way to spook you. I didn't think you'd go nuts..." he muttered, looking down at us all incredulously. "Let's get this straight; those idiotic, machine driving punks aren't coming back to 'finish the job', or whatever other crap you guys came up with. They aren't coming back at all." We all sighed in relief, our faces glowing with humiliation. Patch laughed awkwardly, and bowed her head slightly in apology for being the main cause of the uproar.

"But wait..." Moan said. "If those guys aren't coming, than who is?" Everyone turned to face Shell once more, eyes wide with both curiosity and anxiety.

Shell straightened up, puffing his chest out slightly before answering. "There are two trainers coming. One's female, the other's male. My sources tell me-," Shell started, but was cut off by a loud snort from Moan. With a sharp glare at the Meowth's general direction, he continued. "Anyway... supposedly the girl's a total pansy; nothin' to worry about. The boy's more troublesome. They've been traveling together for awhile, and are supposed to be passing through our forest today, looking for Pokemon to... capture."

"Capture?" I asked, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Scruffy and Patch both had quizzical expressions on their faces, and Shell simply gaped down at me. "I-Is this something I should know?"

~~~~

"I still don't get it. You mean they ensnare you in a tiny red-and-white ball? How's that possible? And why would they make fellow Pokemon battle each other for no reason? Is there something wrong with us? Are the humans trying to kill us off?" The explanations they had given me had only confused me more, and I felt several other questions bubbling to the surface of my mind. I just couldn't get my head around it. Trainers? Pokemon battles? I had never heard any mention of this happening before. How could I have not known about something this weird? "Are you sure you aren't pulling my leg?"

"Quite sure," Scruffy replied. His naive smile had returned, and I felt blinded by its exuberance. "You were just a chick at the time, so of course you wouldn't remember. Y'see, trainers used to come by our forest all the time... until it got cut down. Now the forest is so small that trainers can't be bothered to come here and train anymore. Since they stopped coming, most Pokemon figure there's no point in talking about what once was. That's probably why you never... found out." I nodded, but could tell that this wasn't the whole story. Behind Scruffy, Patch and Moan were actually silent, and River was staring into the canopy above absently. We were all fairly young, but I was the only one of the group to be under a year in age. What had life been like for them before?

"So what you're saying is, two trainers suddenly decided to come to our forest to train? Why?" I asked. Shell, who had been lounging lazily on his log, jerked his head up. I hated putting him back in the spotlight.

Raising himself from the brittle bark of the log, Shell answered. "The Elders don't know why the humans have come... and who really cares? The only thing that matters is that they are coming, and they're going to be here soon.... So I've come up with a plan." Finally, he tells us! In the heat of the moment, I had completely forgotten the reason our group had even come here in the first place: for the sake of that dog's plan.

~~~~
__________________
Three years of snow

The Wasteland




Last edited by Blue-; 06-29-2009 at 03:29 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 05-03-2009, 06:56 PM
Blue- Offline
Elite Trainer (Level 1)
 
Join Date: Dec 2006
Location: Oregon~
Posts: 1,998
Send a message via Yahoo to Blue-
Default Re: The Wasteland

Here's a small update. I've gone through another crazed editing session, changed a couple of details in the second chapter, and added quite a bit to the third. At this point, I suggest not even reading the story until it is completely finished, because I tend to edit things aggressively. xD

Chapter 3 Cont.

"As you've probably guessed, those humans are going to try to catch whatever Pokemon crosses their path. And who knows? That could be anybody. One of our friends, a part of our families... maybe even a member of this very group. No matter what, it would be a horrible loss for the entire forest." Passion burned in the Poochyena's olive eyes, and each one of us stiffened as we considered the possibilities. After all, no one knew for sure what the humans were after. They might be planning to capture a whole horde of Pokemon from the forest! Or worse still, they might capture us only to pit us against each other later in a terrifyingly gruesome brawl! I involuntarily shuddered at the thought, as it matched the other's descriptions of trainers and battling to a T.

Meanwhile, Acre had started whimpering uncontrollably on the edge of the clearing, and I couldn't help but feel a familiar wave of frustration roll through my body in response as Shell continued. "To ensure the safety of the forest and its inhabitants, I've decided that we cannot sit idly by and watch those two kids take away all that is dear to us. I don't care what the Elders think; it's just not right!" Shell proclaimed, his tail sweeping against the ground from his irritation.

"We have to stop them before they cause any trouble. And since the Elders won't help us... we're just gonna have to run the humans out on our own." I could see doubt flickering across the faces of almost everyone around me. The Mightyena Elders were regarded as the unofficial leaders of the forest. Everyone obeyed their silent rulings, and to go against them was practically unthinkable. For Shell - the son of one of the Elders themselves - to revolt against them so openly... I suppose you could only describe it as noble.

No matter the circumstance, Shell was our friend, and there was no doubt in my mind that the rest of the group, however uneasy they felt, was going to follow him. I however, wasn't at all eager to help him - not this time. I would much rather stab a sharpened stick into his decaying carcass than follow his lead. If there was one thing I knew about Shell, it was that no matter how 'thought-out' his plans supposedly were, they were guaranteed to blow up in his - and all of our - faces eventually, and for once, I wasn't willing to repeat that process.

~~~~

In the end, I had managed to get myself tangled in yet another of Shell's webs. Or rather, I hadn't had the guts to actually voice my displeasure to the rest of the group. Now, I found myself being sandwiched into the confines of the prickliest bush in the entire forest, with Patch, Moan, and Acre to join in the misery. Lovely.

"How much longer are we going to have to wait 'till he gives us the signal?" Moan muttered, flexing his claws in agitation as he spoke. Patch and Acre seemed equally frustrated, as Shell hadn't sent us even one message since our groups had been dispatched.

I bet he's just off fooling around with River. The very thought - no, the memory - had me shaking with rage so violently, the other members of my group couldn't help but stare.

Earlier that day, after I had come to the conclusion that poking dead Poochyenas might become my new favorite past-time, Shell began fully outlining his battle strategy to us, first explaining that he would divide us into two groups. He had decided that the first team would track the female trainer, while the second would follow the male. He then told us one of the Elder's theories. Apparently, there was a game among beginning trainers where they would compete to see who could catch the most Pokemon first, meaning that it was highly likely that the two trainers were going to split up.

Then - as if I hadn't already been miserable enough - he just had to come up with the brilliant idea of assigning one member from each team to be a messenger between the two groups, so that if a trainer happened to notice the Pokemon trailing behind their every step, the team could send out for help from the other party. As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew I was going to be coined with the job. Being a Taillow, I had often been landed with the task before, my wings giving me an obvious advantage over others. At that moment, I had thought that he would assign River with the job as well. But - as was the growing trend of the day - Shell was only going to continue the growth of my loathing for him.

Once he had made that announcement, Shell went on to divide us into teams, placing Patch, Moan, Acre, and I into one group, and he, River, and Scruffy in the other. After he finished speaking, I glared as fiercely as I could at the gray hound, for not only selfishly forcing River into his own group, but putting Acre into mine. On top of all that, he hadn't let any of us decide which group we wanted to be in! Yet none of them said a word, simply allowing Shell to control them! It hadn't taken me long to realize, however, that I would've happily followed his leadership before as well, if not for... for what? Why had I started to despise Shell so much? Thoughts began to race through my mind until they became a blur, though one stuck out among all the others; the pangs of jealousy I had been feeling that past morning hadn't just popped up out of nowhere. They had been building over time without my noticing, finally triggered by something the Poochyena had done earlier that day. Perhaps the enormity of Shell's ego finally got to be too much for me to bear.

"Now that we've established the teams, it's time to pick messengers," Shell had announced, taking me out of my thoughts. He looked at every member of the clearing before turning his gaze towards my thin, coal black feathers. "Alright; team one's messenger can be Stumpy. As for my team..." The Poochyena's voice trailed off before he pinpointed his next target. "Scruffy, you can be the other messenger!" Patch literally gasped, while everyone else looked puzzled. Shell simply shrugged it off, saying that Scruffy was small enough to dive under bushes and could also do it quickly; apparently that was enough of an explanation for the group, as no one questioned him further. Scruffy had looked quite proud, though I couldn't help but notice that River had gawked at Shell in confusion afterwords. All I could think was that she wouldn't be so ignorant of Shell's intentions by the end of the day.

"Er, Stumpy...." At the sound of Patch's voice, I brought myself out of my thoughts and into the present. "You've been shaking pretty badly for awhile now... are you nervous?" It was strange seeing Patch so concerned.

"No, I'm just a little cold...." Patch smiled, obviously relieved.

"I really hope Scruffy comes with some news soon... It's so boring just waiting around like this! We're wasting our youth!" Moan cried from directly behind the two of us, causing both Patch and I to jump. The bush we had been told to wait in was terribly small, and was nestled right around the trunk of an Oak tree, meaning that there wasn't much space to move around. This fact certainly didn't keep Patch from being herself, though.

"Moan! Don't sneak up on us like that! This whole situation is bad enough as it is without you popping up from behind and scaring people!"

"Hey, I wasn't trying to scare you! I was just offering my opinion!" And so it began, the first - but expected - fight between Patch and Moan since our group had been told to wait within the prickliest bush in the entire forest.

"Yeah, but you could've 'offered your opinion' over there!" Patch pointed indignantly towards the area where Moan had been sitting before.

~~~~
__________________
Three years of snow

The Wasteland




Last edited by Blue-; 12-07-2009 at 02:04 AM.
Reply With Quote
Reply


Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT. The time now is 02:47 PM.


Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.7
Copyright ©2000 - 2014, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.
Style Design: AlienSector.com