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Old 05-03-2009, 08:04 AM
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Default The Man in the Welder's Mask [Story Deal for -Adam-]

The Man in the Welder's Mask

The rusty metal spade plunged into the coarse dirt; its sharpened point breaking apart the soil it struck. The head buried itself in the earth, and with much strain, lifted up a pile of dirt, casting it off to the side. Dirty hands coated in dried blood gripped the wooden handle, clenching it tightly. One shovelful at a time, a hole in the dry earth began to form. Sweat forming on the hands took on the sanguine color of the dried blood, with deep red drops falling onto the sand. The hands dropped the shovel, and instead reached for the lifeless body of an animal. They lifted up a small rodent-like creature, with empty black eyes and thick yellow hide. It had stubby hands and feet, with twisted, mangled claws. The limp tail swayed gently as the corpse was picked up off the ground. Solemnly, the hands set the creature down in the grave on its back. Grasping the spade, the hands used it to sweep a light coating of sand atop the corpse’s white underbelly.

The hands reached up and gripped a charcoal colored welding mask, removing the headgear to reveal the scarred face of a man. His skin was severely burnt, so much so that he chose to wear the helmet constantly. He would only remove it briefly to wipe his brow, and on rare occasions, eat. Removing a loose piece of cloth from his back pocket, the man wrapped it around his forehead to use as a bandanna before putting the welder’s mask back on. He went back to work, his short rest over, and continued to shovel dirt onto the corpse of his one-time pet, not stopping until the earth was flat as he found it.

Night was almost upon him, though one would be hard-pressed to tell by just looking at the sky, which was always a hellish mix of yellow and red. Rather, he only assumed that it was the old convention of night; the period where he would settle down and rest. His temporary home had been a long abandoned gas station. The road that would lead vehicles to the station was nearly gone, as the wind had swept sand and dirt over the degrading cracked asphalt. His shelter was the convenient store attached to the gas station. A small one story room, empty inside save for a counter, which stretched across the left side of the building. On both sides of the door were open windows, the glass of which had shattered long ago. Opposite the building stood two old gas pumps, covered by a roof that served to keep patrons dry as they filled up their vehicles.

No vehicle had visited the station in nearly three-hundred years, since before what was more or less the end of civilization. While the man in the welder’s mask didn’t know the exact details of the catastrophe, he knew the popularized legend of what had occurred. Two immortal beasts, each with control of an aspect of the weather, fought an epic battle against each other. Though their rage was eventually calmed by a third beast, one with an even greater control of the weather, their rampage had taken its toll. They left behind a devastated land, comparable to the harshest of deserts. The Earth’s natural cycle had been disturbed, and the effects would linger for centuries to come.

Ducking into the relative safety of his gas station shelter, the man in the welder’s mask moved to curl up behind the counter, where he felt safest. He struggled to make it in. His left leg had not stopped bleeding and caused him to walk with a severe limp. Slowly and painfully, he made to his secret place. There he had stowed his few possessions. Among them was an old chainsaw, with a dull and rusted chain. Worn as it was, it was the man’s only solid defense against the feral monsters which roamed the land. Next to the saw was a hardcover book, an encyclopedia from before the cataclysm. It was his only link to what the world used to be, and was oddly comforting, as he’d read about more peaceful times. He opened the book, and flipped through the pages under a section labeled “Pokemon,” until he came to a sketch that looked like the creature he had buried.

Sandshrew. That was its name.

He found all he wanted to know: the identity of the animal that had given its life to protect him. The man in the welder’s mask closed the book, setting it on a shelf under the counter. He reached out his hand, the blood dry once again, to grab a wool blanket. It was dirty and reeked of an awful odor, but was the only thing he had to help protect him from the chill. Once the sounds of his own rustling had settled, he was left with nothing but the eerie silence of night in the new world. As he slept, scenes from the traumatic encounter of that day haunted his dreams…

Earlier That Day

He had been out searching for food, that day, when a pack of small, spiny rabbits surrounded and attacked him. Some were purple, while others were blue, though both shared the common traits of large ears, spikes throughout the body, and a horn on the forehead. He frantically struggled to rev the chainsaw, as the colored rabbits nipped and clawed at his legs. A thick, poison slime secreted from the spikes on their bodies, causing great concern for the man in the welder’s mask, who knew nothing of the poison's effects or potency. He finally got the saw going, and plunged the motorized-spinning chain into the pack of vicious monsters.

He swung his arms back and forth in a heavy sweeping motion, slashing the frenzied rabbits. The chainsaw had ripped into a couple of them, but their numbers were too great to wipe out completely. One stood directly in front of him, and spurted a glob of poison from its center horn. The toxic liquid coated the horn like poison on an arrow. But before the creature could ram its horn into the man’s gut, he stuck the spinning blade of the chainsaw into its skull. Blood and poison sprayed wildly, splattering on the lens shade of the welder’s helmet, making it impossible for the man to see. He fell onto his back, dropping the chainsaw. The rabbits instantly went for his face, but could not claw through the welder’s mask.

The man swung his arms and flailed his legs, desperately trying to shake off the beasts. In his tantrum he was able to count a dozen foes, at least. He started to feel the sharp pinching of the rabbit’s teeth chewing on his flesh, having puncturing through his clothing. They seemed to concentrate on his left leg, shredding his skin and secreting poison into the open wound. Suddenly, a fierce sandstorm had whipped up during the commotion. The man’s clothing and helmet protected him from the weather, but the rabbits were being pelted relentlessly. Stunned and blind, the swarming creatures eased off their attack.

Stumbling to his feet, the man could see another animal about to enter the fray. It was a stout yellow-skinned rodent. Seemingly unaffected by the sandstorm, the animal charged into the pack of confused rabbits, raking at them with its claws. The frenzied little creatures turned their full attention to the shrew, overwhelming it with jagged claws and poisonous spikes…

The next morning, the man woke to a welcome surprise. He could hear the patter of rain droplets landing on the roof of the gas station. Fresh water was difficult to find, as the world had been in almost constant drought since as long as the man in the welder’s helmet had been alive. On the rare occasion that it did rain, it typically only lasted for under an hour.

Quickly he got to his feet, feeling the pain from the previous days fight for survival. He reached under the counter to retrieve a clay bowl, and hurriedly limped in an awkward run out of the building to collect rainwater. Getting out from under the roof, he was instantly refreshed by the cool water, allowing it to soak straight through his clothes. Removing the welder’s mask, the man ran his wet hands through his dirty, matted hair. It was rejuvenating, though the relief was short lasting. His rain catch had only collected a small sip of water, much less than he had hoped for. But the renewed energy motivated him enough to make another attempt at finding food and water. He had no way of securing the gas station, but the scarcity of humans in the surrounding territory gave him no reason to suspect thievery while he was away. He headed away from the station, lugging with him his faithful chainsaw. The man’s boots left clean impressions in the moist sand, as he trekked off into the unknown.

An hour into his mission, the man in the welder’s mask discovered a large steel dumpster; a modern day treasure chest. The trash receptacle sat alone in a barren landscape, implying that it had been moved there post-catastrophe. A durable looking chain and padlock sealed the steel bin shut. But the metal links that wrapped around the dumpster weren’t as strong as they appeared, allowing the man to carve through them with his chainsaw. While he was able to rev it up, it had a difficult time getting going.

It’s low on gasoline… Not again.

Even though he called an abandoned gas station home, the pumps were long out of working order, leaving him with no way to access the fuel stored below. All he could do to refuel his weapon was siphon what little gas was trapped in the pump, and finding a pump that hadn’t already been harvested by some other desperate wanderer was rare. However, it was worth every ounce of gasoline spent to get into the dumpster, as the trash inside could easily be put to great use.

The spinning saw blade carved through the chains in a dazzling explosion of sparks. No longer sealed shut, the dumpster was easily opened. The man then began to sift through the age-old garbage contained within.

As his hands dug through the trash, the man focused on forming blueprints in his mind. Whatever he could build out of the odds and ends strewn about before him would surely prove useful. An idea began to materialize in his head and in his hands, a rust coated staple gun being the core of the invention. Tinkering with the old tool, the man opened it up and dumped out the tiny staples, which had miraculously survived all that time. Using an intricate modification of scrap metal and rubber bands, along with an old tread of rubber tire for a grip, the man had turned an old stapler into a crude zip gun. He picked up a small rock, dropped it into the barrel where staples used to be, and fixated the rubber bands to cock it back. Staring through the lens shade of his helmet, he aimed his gun at the dumpster, and squeezed the trigger.

He half-expected it to fall apart in his hands. He was both thrilled and startled to see the tiny rock be propelled out of the gun and dent the steel wall of the dumpster. The zip gun was a success, though he realized it was a weapon to be used sparingly. The rubber bands snapped upon firing, meaning a new pair of bands would be required per every reload of the single-shot improvised firearm.

Despite the long reload time, having any access at all to a projectile weapon in his hostile surroundings was a major benefit. The zip gun alone would have been enough for the man to consider his day a successful one, but holding the weapon in his hand filled him with confidence. He was driven more than ever to hunt for food.

The man in the welder’s mask continued his search, lugging the chainsaw in his right hand, the zip gun in his left. His stomach groaned and churned in unnatural ways. He suddenly dropped his weapons and fell to his knees, barely lifting the helmet in time to avoid vomiting inside of it. All he could produce was bile - his stomach being empty. The vomit splattered as it collided with the dirt. It was colored purple, a sure sign that the man had been poisoned by the rabbit-like creatures of yesterday’ battle. He knew nothing of how to treat a poisoning, and could only press onward, hoping the toxic in his veins was not fatal. Climbing up off the ground, and grasping his weapons, the man continued walking through the barren place. The bleak landscape of dead grass and charred trees looked slightly less dismal through the mask’s lens shade, which gave the wasteland a slight colored tint. Beyond the horizon, the man saw a thick cloud of smoke, so deeply black that no tint could lessen its ominous presence as it towered into the sky. Whatever could have produced the fumes was at least worth investigating. The man took a deep breath and cracked his neck, readying himself to charge into an unknown situation.

Cresting a steep dune of sand, the man in the welder’s mask could see what had caused the smoke. Two small animals were engaged in a life or death battle. Though he couldn’t clearly identify them from so far away, the man could tell that one was a four-legged black creature with a fire on its back. The other, a white-furred bipedal creature with a long tail, and a piggish nose.

Both creatures were intensely focused on each other, so much so that the man could easily sneak up on them both, and secure himself two meals. He considered picking one off from his current position with the zip gun, but the weapon’s accuracy wasn’t reliable at such distance. Cautiously, he moved in closer, to a distance where he trusted the zip gun’s aim. Neither creature had noticed him, still viciously attacking each other. The white, furry monkey thrashed around, hurling its entire body at the opposing monster, which retaliated with a massive burst of fire that consumed both of them in searing flames.

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Last edited by Moon Master; 05-03-2009 at 06:20 PM.
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Old 05-03-2009, 08:06 AM
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Default Re: The Man in the Welder's Mask [Story Deal for -Adam-]

The man, fighting his limp in an attempt to stand perfectly still, did his best to aim the zip gun. He targeted the bipedal attacker, aiming the gun directly at the enraged animal. Squeezing the trigger, a rough shard of metal launched out from the gun. Amidst the sound of snapping rubber bands, the shard flew through the air, making contact with its target and digging into its body. It was a perfect shot. Staggering, the monkey could not endure the mortal wound; it was felled by the man’s firearm.

He struggled to affix new rubber bands onto the gun, worrying that the other monster would defend itself in a fierce explosion of fire. But rather than attempt any retaliation at all, the animal simply stood there, watching what the man was doing. It in fact quelled the flames on its back, and casually sat down. It did not want to fight the man, satisfied enough to have survived the battle with the furry pig-monkey.

This animal has learned to control fire… that may prove much more valuable to me than a single meal.

Remembering the creature Sandshrew that had saved him from the pack of poisonous rabbits, the man decided to show the fiery echidna some mercy. Placing the gun and saw on the ground, he approached the animal cautiously. They seemed to share an understanding; aligning with the other could help them survive.

Fifteen minutes after the battle, the man had finished skinning the monkey. He kept the white fur - perhaps to tailor into a pair of gloves, or a holster for the zip gun – and carved two cuts of meat from the corpse. He held out the raw meat to his new partner, who seemed to understand the concept of cooking. The little fiery echidna charged up a small, controlled ember on its back. The man placed the cuts of meat directly on the flames to grill them. The sizzling of the meat, and the aroma it produced whet his appetite. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep the protein-rich food down on an empty stomach afflicted by some unknown poison, but he hadn’t eaten in days, and was beyond willing to try.

Lifting the helmet atop his head, the man bit into the meat like a beast, consuming it as fast as his teeth would chew. The companion animal reluctantly nibbled at it, unsure of whether or not to eat the strange meat, though ultimately decided to eat a little bit. As for the man, his stomach showed no immediate signs of rejecting the meat, but made him extremely thirsty. The sudden rush of food energy gave him the strength to grab his weapons and move on to search for water. From behind him came a growl in an unusually erratic pitch; the animal was running to catch up to him, deciding to follow along.

The man in the welder’s helmet knew the rush of energy moving him forward would not last long. His persistent limp kept him from sprinting, though he did his best to keep a quick pace. By now he was miles out of his familiar territory, with no chance of making it back to the gas station before nightfall. Curiosity drove him to explore, hoping to find a lake, or at the very least, a muddy puddle, over the next dune. The fiery creature kept up with him, growling its weird tones. But then, the animal suddenly stopped. Its long snout poked around in the sand, revealing a white liquid. Seeing this, the man lifted his helmet and dropped down to investigate. Absorbing the odor of the mysterious liquid, the man thought he knew what it was.

Milk. That’s very unusual… What could have produced it way out here?

Near the drips of milk in the sand, the man saw a pair of animal tracks, walking in unison. One set was bipedal, the other from a quadruped. Not even taking the time to catch his breath, he took off once again, determined to find the animals producing the tracks – and more importantly, the milk.

He followed the tracks for quite some time, evident by the amber color of the post-cataclysm night sky. Climbing a steep dune of rocky dirt, the man saw the source of his obsession. Two sleeping creatures lay side by side. The quadruped was a bulky brown bull, with strong silver horns, a bushy, sepia colored man, and three tails on its rear. Alongside it slept a pink cow, with black pigmentation on its face and parts of its back. The man in the welder’s helmet had found the source of the milk; a source of life in a landscape of death.

Hot sparks escaped from the little companion’s back. The man couldn’t tell what it meant, only that the animal was excited about something. He saw the echidna’s squinting eyes peer towards the sleeping animals; it was planning an ambush, as was the man. Holding the zip gun in his left hand, the man decided to take a dangerous risk. Rather than shooting the bull, an attack that would likely not kill it, the man would try and get close enough to cut it in half with his chainsaw. Before moving in, he opened the gas cap to see his fuel was almost gone. He had enough to start the saw one last time, and would only have minutes of use before running out.

Not wanting to hesitate any longer, the man holstered the zip gun in his pants pocket. Gripping the chainsaw in both hands, he limped quietly towards the sleeping bull. The black-furred echidna did not follow, preferring to watch from the safety of the sidelines, deciding when to attack. But for the man, there was not a doubt in his mind; he would rather die trying to acquire the milk than slowly wither away from dehydration.

Standing a mere ten feet from the bull, the man decided it was time. Taking deep breathes, he revved the chainsaw as quickly as he could, trying to get it running before the animals woke up. As he revved, the bull awoke. Instantly lifting off the ground, the hulking beast charged directly at the man, leaping into the air to slam the weight of its body into him. He raised the saw in a blocking pose, intercepting the bull’s slam, impaling it. The saw was essentially supporting the animal’s weight, as its hind legs did not reach the ground. The pain of the saw in its chest did not stop the enraged creature from trying to kill its attacker. Swinging its head back and forth, its horns slashed the welder’s helmet with enough force to generate sparks.

He revved the saw again. The spinning chain tore through the bull’s flesh and organs. The beast shook as the saw shredded its insides. It wasn’t until the tip of the chainsaw emerged through the animal’s back, that it stopped bucking once and for all. The man had acted just in time, as the chainsaw died just after fully impaling the bull. He tugged at it, but without the motorized spinning of the chain, he could not remove it from the corpse; it was embedded in the mangled flesh like a legendary sword in stone.

The pink cow had awoken during the noisy, violent battle between the man and the bull. Though lacking the offensive drive of the felled beast, the cow surely understood its life was in danger. Rather than trying to outrun the man, the mammal would mount a final stand.

Curling into a ball seemed to solidify the cow’s defenses. Holding this rounded curl, the cow launched itself towards the man in a spinning roll. He dived to the left, narrowly avoiding the animal’s Rollout. Sensing that the man needed help, the echidna raced down to the battle to lend its aide. An intense fire instantly burst from its back, sending a hot plume of lava towards the cow. Flames surrounded the animal, clearly causing it some pain. But its fat was so thick that the fire could not do any major damage.

It did, however, stun the wild cow long enough for the man to line up a shot with his zip gun. He did not want to kill the animal, rather capture and domesticate it to secure a constant supply of milk. Aiming at the thick, fatty stomach, he took the shot. A jagged piece of metal lodged itself in the animal’s gut. It let out a deep, painful moan. The man assumed he had weakened the cow enough to take control of it. He did not bother reloading his zip gun as he slowly approached the bellowing cow.

But the wounded animal, in a rather disturbing display, hunched over and consumed it own milk. As it drank, the bloody wound caused by the zip gun instantly healed.

The man had never seen anything like it. Somehow, the animal’s milk had special healing properties. He suddenly realized that there was a good chance that the milk could act as an antidote to rid him of the poison. It was suddenly critical to his very survival that he capture this wild animal, alive.

The chainsaw was stuck in the corpse of a bull. The zip gun required a time-consuming reload. And the mad cow was prepared to attack. The man turned to the echidna, his body motion urging the fiery creature to help him.

Whatever motive fueled the little monster, it obviously wanted to help the man in any way it could. The fire on its back intensified in a sharp burst. The flames roared, though the creature made no effort to aim them at the cow. Rather, it used its own masterful control of the flames to pollute the area with thick black smoke, obscuring the cow’s vision. The pink animal, completely blind, threw random punches into the smoke. As it stumbled around, the fiery echidna swiftly maneuvered through its own Smokescreen, scorching the cow with concentrated bursts of flames. Despite the cow’s natural resistance to the heat, the burns were nonetheless taking their toll, as the animal bellowed high pitched cries of pain.

During the companion’s distraction, the man in the welder’s mask tried to reload his zip gun. The smokescreen that had crippled the cow had also impacted his ability to see, though his helmet’s lens shade prevented total blindness and disorientation.

As the man struggled with the gun, the echidna’s Smokescreen was dissipating. The cow was regaining its vision, and targeted the fiery animal as its prey. It lunged at the echidna, slamming into it with a massive girth. The tiny animal didn’t stand a chance to the bone-crushing weight. It fell to the ground, gasping for air as if it had damaged a lung. By now the man in the welder’s mask had set up the zip gun to fire another shot. But he was not quick enough to save the echidna. The cow, standing tall on its hind legs, stomped a hoof directly onto the echidna’s skull, killing it instantly.

This was the second innocent creature that had sacrificed its own life to aid the man. Not about to let this sacrifice be in vain, he lined up one final shot, calculating where to shoot the cow. He had to do enough damage to stop the cow from drinking its own milk and healing, without making it an instant kill shot. Raising the welder’s helmet to see more clearly, the man squeezed the trigger.

A tiny shard of rusty, jagged steel burrowed into the cow’s chest. It stumbled around, before collapsing to the ground in a heap. Though it was not giving up, as it tried desperately to reach its utters and consume the life milk. The man knew he could not allow this to happen until after asserting ownership over the animal, so that it would no longer be hostile to him. In a painful sprint, he dove atop the cow, pinning it down…

The cow struggled against the man’s weight, kicking at his legs with its hooves. Thinking quickly, he head butted the animal with his welder’s helmet, dazing it for a few seconds.

Come on.. One… Two…

Ready for Grading

Pokemon: Miltank
Characters Needed: 20,000 - 30,000
Characters: 24,682

URPG Stats ~ VPP Stats
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Last edited by Moon Master; 05-03-2009 at 06:30 PM.
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Old 05-05-2009, 01:50 AM
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Default Re: The Man in the Welder's Mask [Story Deal for -Adam-]

Plot: I must admit I underestimated you as one of those newbie writers. However, once I started reading your story, my personal opinion of you quickly changed. Your clean grammar and dramatic introduction impressed me a lot, but your plot stuck out the most. It was unpredictable and original. It was like nothing I've ever read before, and that's good for you. I really enjoyed the whole Groudon-Kyogre-Rayquaza end of the world thing. ^_^ However, a plotline where Pokemon are not common animals like they are in the video games can lead to problems. However, I figure those problems would be better detailed in your Description area, however. For now, I'll leave you with a Pass - a nice way to start off your story.

Introduction: As a Grader, I find most description-introductions to be boring. However, your dramatic wording made me enjoy it a lot, and it got me really hooked into your story. The point of a hook is to get the reader hooked into the story, and that's what you did. Though personally, I disapprove of leading with descriptions in my stories because of my problems with descriptions, it worked well for you and I suggest doing so again next time. The only thing I had trouble with was that you didn't give us your character's name. Some people are like that, but I found a story about a stranger to be not as efficient. Find a way to give us your main character's name next time, because without your character's name, it feels like I'm reading a story about your second best friend, who I do not know at all. It may seem like something small, but it isn't, trust me. :s Still, your amazing lead paragraphs convinces me to give you a Borderline Pass.

Length: Pass.

Grammar: After my typical grammar check, I found one grammatical mistake that I'm not sure is a mistake at all.

Thinking quickly, he head butted the animal with his welder’s helmet, dazing it for a few seconds.
I'm quite sure 'head butted' is supposed to be one word, but I'm not really sure about that. I personally have never seen it two words before, but I still have my doubts. Anyways, this section was... well, amazing! One mistake I'm not sure about throughout the entire story, well, that just deserves a Pass. Good job.

Description: Your greatest mess-up here was not describing your Pokemon (<- this was the plot related one; having a plot where the main character doesn't know anything about Pokemon makes it harder to tell us what's what because you can't tell us the species name of the Pokemon). Excluding Sandshrew, you didn't tell us what the other ones were, though you gave us clues. I believe the ones in the flashback were Nidoran M and F, and the one you fought in the end was obviously a Miltank. However, the monkey, the echidna and the bull are unknown to me. I have my guesses, of course, but if you had described them further, I would know for sure as I'm supposed to.

And as I said in the Introduction section, you forgot your main character's name. I already yelled at you for that, so I'll leave it alone.

Now, up until this point I have been pretty harsh about your descriptions. But I have not neglected your amazing setting descriptions and your incredible lead paragraphs. When I think of your descriptions as a whole, I think you deserve a Borderline Fail. Don't feel bad about that, if you had remembered your main character's name, you would've gotten a Pass. And since that mistake is easily remedied, you should be able to get a Pass in descriptions if you maintain this level of descriptions while adding in the main character's name. Still, you should try to edit your plot to allow easier Pokemon descriptions as well, don't neglect that. :x

Battle: A little too short for my tastes, unfortunately. :| Still, I enjoyed your battle, both as a reader and as a Grader. It was epic, and you described your battle well. It was also two-sided, and I really enjoyed the crushing of the echidna's skull. That I wasn't sure what Pokemon the echidna was subtracted from the effectiveness of your story, but I think a Pass is in order here.

Outcome: You had some ups-and-downs. Mostly, they were ups. The majority of your downs were related to your descriptions, but all were caused by other things save the name thing. Next time, fix that for me, mmk?

EDIT: I forgot this, I have just failed as a Grader. Miltank Captured!
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