title // World Spinning Around
pokemon i'm going for // venonat
difficulty // medium
minimum length // 10k-20k characters
total length // 19060 characters
This is my first completed URPG story, and it is also an entry for the New Writer's Competition.
Ready for grade, too. :)
World Spinning Around
i. in the quiet, everything is part truth, part false;
We are everything to Pokémon that wish to travel through and explore these mystery dungeons that we inhabit, yet we are nothing. We are the promises that they make, yet we are the ones that they push away with all of their strength. We are the endless adrenaline flowing through them, yet we are the never ending scars that don't ever seem to want to heal.
This is the fate that was carved out for us. This is the fate we cannot control, the fate we cannot escape, no matter how hard we try, no matter how many times we wish upon stars that we have never seen and will never see-- and it is times like these where silence means everything.
ii. through these cursed eyes of mine, i see, and through these imprecated ears of mine, i hear, and i want more and yet i want less;
In this dungeon, it is clear to me that there is life and food and water and all that is needed to survive, all that is not needed to lead a fulfilling and joyful life.
In this dungeon, it is unfortunate to know that there is consuming hate and constant caution and dreadful nightmares and there is no love, no family, no friendship.
In this dungeon, all I have is my name, my desire to live, and my desire to die. I have Mayronai, a name that no one calls out, a name that no one knows me by, because I am nothing but an enemy, a threat to others-- just like everyone else. I have my desire to live, to escape this place and see the sun and the moon and others that truly know what it means to be happy. I have my desire to die for when it seems hopeless, which is all too often, and I know that rotting away is simply a privilege reserved for the dead.
iii. something is very, very wrong here;
Some say that there are explorers in the dungeon lately, and it is disheartening, but it is not unusual-- and this time, something isn't right. I know, because they say it with smiles on their faces, and they say it to others. Normally, they speak to themselves, their only companions, and normally, there are only faint smiles that are forced with what little energy they have managed throughout the long, lonely days. Their hearts don't seem to be completely frozen over anymore. They don't look as if they want to give up anymore.
It seems like there is hope, but I don't see it. I don't feel it. I don't taste it or hear it, and it is as if it doesn't exist at all.
I try to ignore it all and crawl back into the dark corner of my mind, the space between reality and fantasy.
iv. this is such a sickening joke, and i am begging you to let me suffer just as long as i need to;
The first time I witness their fateful existence in some way or another, I am apparently unconscious. I had been wandering around the dungeon aimlessly as always, staring at the timeless forest and the luscious trees and the alluring flowers that all combine only for me to think that they resemble lost dreams and future letdowns. The traps inside this place failed to pass through my mind and I had supposedly stumbled into one, and was sent flying backwards into a cold and unforgivable dungeon wall.
I wake up to another Pokémon sitting right beside me, looking away warily, cautiously, as if it is protecting something significant, something that they cherish. Despite this, I refuse to move, refuse to breathe. It is a natural reaction-- because no Pokémon trust each other here, and I firmly believe that it will attack the second that I make them acknowledge my awakening. The three cotton puffs that can be seen can easily paralyze me, and then it can fly away without a care in the world, and that would be inexcusable.
I stand up as slowly and as carefully as possible, wondering what attack I can use to send the threat away in tears, but I don't get very far at all.
"Oh?" the Jumpluff says softly as she turns around. "You're awake! Oh, they would be so relieved if they were still here right now!"
"I... Well," I start, but my voice trails off in response to this surprise. A voice directed toward me is completely foreign. A voice as cheerful as hers is even more unfamiliar, and I don't quite know what to make of it. I try to distract myself somehow, asking questions that ponder why the sky is blue, why the grass is green-- until she proceeds to tell me about the two explorers who had rescued me from what had happened, and how they had put me in a comfortable position so I could rest.
"The two of them had to leave as soon as possible," she continues, "so they asked me to watch over you, and I... agreed, I guess, and here I am. My name is... Aregimi."
"Aregimi," I repeat quietly. I say the name without difficulty, but I say nothing more. For me, this is too unreal, and I start to walk away with these tiny feet of mine. I do so without glancing back even once, without telling her my name, without properly thanking her-- because I don't know how, and I think that it is quite all right. What is wrong with being alone, anyway? Alone is the only way I have ever known, after all.
I go back to nowhere at all. I go back home.
v. maybe there's a chance for you to remove the knife that you stuck in my back and heal the following wounds;
The second time I witness their fateful existence is when they enter the dungeon after failing to make it through once.
I see them and wonder why a fire-type and a water-type Pokémon are here in the forest, which is mostly inhabited by grass-types and bug-types. More importantly, I wonder why they are together and laughing and regarding each other in a way that shows that if they make one wrong decision, everything will not be shattered in an instant, because everything will be all right in the end somehow, someway.
The small fire-type sends flames shooting straight out from his back after making sure he is a few feet away from the water-type because, oh, the fire could burn, burn, burn and leave unnecessary, everlasting scars. He does this not as a mere battle strategy, but to assure warmth to his partner. I notice this, and I cringe-- but I keep watching from a distance anyway, because this is new, this is different, and this is, dare I say, a chance.
"Suzimo, I bet you're really hungry. Am I right? But I don't see any food nearby... and I'm too exhausted to keep going right now," the water-type says tiredly. Suzimo says nothing and nods slightly. He moves his body closer to his partner, and the turtle-like creature doesn't jump back and doesn't feel threatened, much to my surprise.
"We'll find some food later. Don't worry about it, Mirumi. Just rest right now, all right? What happened earlier really wore you out, I think," Suzimo says. He lies down on the ground and I cannot tell if he is going to sleep in the middle of such a dangerous place, or if he is still awake and alert because his eyes are closed, always closed-- but always open, and I admire that from afar.
Still, I have to tell myself that this Cyndaquil, Suzimo, is an explorer. I cannot deny the fact that this Squirtle, Mirumi, is an explorer. When explorers enter a prison like this, the entire dungeon is altered. All of the floors change. The trees and the flowers and the Pokémon are no longer in the same place as they were before, and that is what causes everyone to be the way that they are-- untrustful, wary, hopeless and hopeful all at once. That is what causes for everyone to never be able to build families or friendships or a true home, because it is always destroyed the minute that it is created.
Still, I also have to tell myself that they aren't attacking every Pokémon in sight and they aren't stealing all of our food and all of our items like previous explorers, and so, I cannot bring myself to care much.
And when they decide to get up and keep on moving forward, I decide to follow them, even though I know they will disappear the second that they find the path that leads to the second floor. It is not like I have anywhere else to be or anyone else to see, anyway.
And I realize that this is the first time that I finally accept their existence.
vi. and if this happens, the heart i have never possessed before now will break and fall to the floor;
Somehow, time seems to move, and for once, I notice it. I notice it with every beat of my heart, with every breath I take, with every movement made and every word spoken by those two explorers that I follow. And as I make my way through the first floor of the dungeon with and without them at the same time, I observe and see that they don't like to fight unless absolutely necessary. I observe that unity is their most powerful weapon, that their most prized possessions include each other.
Because fate is so cruel, however, all good things like this must come to an end-- or, at least, they must come to an obstacle in the road to put everything to the test. Eventually, a challenger approaches. An Ariados dares to interrupt the rare peace, dares to ruin what I have been waiting for all of my life.
"Mirumi," I hear Suzimo whine, his voice cracking. He sighs, then continues, "What are we supposed to do? I know I could defeat the Ariados, but I--"
"I know. I... know," Mirumi interrupts-- harshly at first, and then her voice drops to a mere whisper, which is soon replaced with a determined, yet drained look that appears on her face as she steps in front of Suzimo. Ariados only chuckles softly, and I can only move behind a nearby tree and watch them in the clearing that they are in, the clearing with nothing but grass moving with the wind, the clearing with no intruding echoes for help, no contributing cries of worry and I cannot help but wonder if it is the end because the end has nothing, nothing, nothing-- and I would know that, and I don't want to know that, but I do and I cannot do much about it right now so I suppose the only thing to do is to put it to good use and--
Ariados moves forward suddenly, his dark eyes never looking away from Mirumi's maroon ones-- and it is an act of intimidation, surely, and I want to say that as a warning, but it is already too late as Mirumi falters slightly and takes a step backward. I scold myself quickly, silently, and I tell myself to apologize later, because they deserve it, really. I start to tremble in a way I never have before as Ariados begins to spin a string from his mouth, as he begins to send it whirling toward the innocent water-type. Mirumi does not move, and I know that it is because of the Pokémon positioned behind her. Instead, she uses her small, blue arms to cover her face, and allows for the strings to wrap around her body and her shell, her protection.
"Mirumi," I hear Suzimo say, but he does not move, cannot move-- and I start to believe that they were not ready to continue moving through the dungeon, that they should have rested longer and perhaps I should have given them food to help cheer them up or to help encourage them on this merciless journey of theirs or something, anything, but--
Mirumi suddenly cries out in pain as the web that Ariados created begins to tighten, and my round body shakes even more. I think of interfering, of doing something, but it has been so long since I fought a Pokémon, since I forced myself to fight for my own life, and I have never fought for the sake of another. Even if I do try to assist the explorers, what if it makes them mad at me, because they were meant to protect each other and only each other and I do not want to mess with that treasured relationship of theirs and--
Mirumi proceeds to send a spray of water in the spider's direction-- but it only comes out as nothing but foam and bubbles that hardly scratch Ariados. And by the time the weak attack is finished, Mirumi can still be seen struggling to breathe, struggling not to cry out even more in a desperate attempt to do anything at all.
"What made you think you could have this go your way? Pathetic explorer... Pathetic Squirtle," Ariados says, laughing.
And I think, if I interfere, what if I fail, despite my seemingly heroic actions? What if it all takes Mirumi and Suzimo's breaths permanently somehow? What if it makes them think that they are too weak and pitiful to continue being the team that they are? What if it makes them question moments that cannot see? What if it makes them question how they can let everything they know go away forever and ever?
Part of me must not know, while another part of me must just not care-- because I find myself using my stubby feet to run into the clearing more swiftly than I can think. I find myself using my diminutive but powerful pincers to cut through the string that Ariados had made, and I find myself simply staring as Mirumi falls to the ground with the web still immobilizing her, as Suzimo rushes up to his partner as quickly as his weary self can.
I find myself unable to breathe. It is as if it is not even allowed anymore.