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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 01-21-2010, 01:34 PM
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Default The Ways of Destiny

Not Ready to be Graded yet.

Word meanings:
Soedra: Traditional clothes in the desert in Professor Rimores world. It looks like the clothes from Arabian people who travel in the desert only Soedra’s are more decorated.

Way One: Your Destiny will find you.

The sun burned on the man’s head. It was an all consuming heath that made the sweat drops run over the man’s forehead and over his bony cheeks, slipping to his chin with a small beard and then falling of. They fell for about 1.60 m, which could tell us that this man should be around 1.75 m, and then made contact with the sandy ground where they vaporized immediately. The man walked further, slowly and in an unstable manner as if he could fall down every moment and would never be able to stand up again. His clothes probably used to be from good quality, his white shirt was made of a soft material and so was his grey pants, but now they were brown of dirt and full with thorns that made it look like they were clothes of a vagabond. They made him look like a vagabond, a fugitive, a bandit. But this man was far from those things, in fact he was a scientist and archaeologist and now carrying out an important mission for which he had left home almost a year ago, leaving his wife and his only daughter behind.

The wind, though not cool but soft and warm, blew a wave of sand towards the man that made him stop to protect his eyes with his arm and to tighten the grip on the belts of his old bag made of brown leather that was swung over his right shoulder. When the wind stopped blowing and returned to other places where it could wreak havoc as much as it liked the man lowered his arm and looked with narrowed eyes to his surroundings.

He was standing on the top of an enormous sand hill and was looking out over other hills of sand, bright yellow sand that seemed to glow in the light of the burning sun that stood right above him. With his hand he swapped of some sweat of his forehead and looked around. Everywhere where the eye could see there was sand and hills and more sand and more hills. The horizon was one yellow line flowing up and down as it followed the shape of the hills with as only disturbance a few cactuses with spiky thorns looking like towers in the soft sand. The air was from a colour blue that you only see on bad paintings or perfect movies or in this case in the desert for that was of course were this man was.

The man sighed and let his fingers rustle through his light brown hair with some faint traces of grey in it as he searched for a way over which he could walk. But there was none. The man was alone in the yellow world from which he not seemed to could escape, a world without ending, a world in which he would die if this would go on.

Professor Rimores, for that was the man’s name, the name that stood on his badge that he normally wore on his white jacket when he was at work. Professor Hentik Rimores, official professor of archaeology of the museum for history and culture in Meiena City, was now standing on top of the hill and started to make his way of the hill after he had determined his position with his watch and the sun. He had to walk southwest for at least another four days if he wanted to get out of this frying pan where he would be fried alive if he didn’t watch out. Maybe even longer if he would walk in this pace.

Slipping and gliding he made his way of the hill. Before his feet he saw an orange, shell like body quickly hide in the warm sand, disappearing in a few seconds when his feet found solid ground and he could stand up again. After all his travels through this desert he was still amazed by the fact that countless of creatures were able to survive in these extreme conditions and were able to grow, gather food and even multiply, all in these rash circumstances. It was amazing and for the professor a mystery how these creatures could survive but the fact was that they did and that they had done it for more then thousand years.

He walked further, his feet left tracks in the soft sand marking the places were a human tried to start a path in this untouched piece of land. But this could never succeed for with one blow the wind would whirl up the sand and would conceal the footsteps that this one man now made in the dusty ground. First his pace was quick and where his eyes fixed on the horizon but after an hour when the sun started to go down his pace slowed down and finally he halted completely. The sun spread out its last rays over the land colouring everything in a shining orange as professor Rimores lowered his bag and placed it on the grey stones from the place that he had chosen to overnight. He sighed as he tried to dust of the sand from his clothes, which was of course useless in his current position, and sat down on the cold stones.

His current shelter was nothing more then a large grey rock with a few small laying around it that looked like a family sheltering around a fire. The professor was sitting under nothing more then a protruding rock where he was somewhat protected from the cold wind that now struck the land. He shivered and stood up again to pack out the so called fire wood that he had gathered while he had been walking. Actually it was nothing more than some death cactus fragments but nevertheless you could make fire with them. With his cold fingers he placed the roots in position and then with a bit shaking hand he lit it with a match. The flame appeared flickering, desperately trying to life another second, then getting grip on the fragments and started to grow.
The professor sat down in front of his fire, warming his hands on the small flames, on his forehead there was a frown as he took a black jacket out of his bag together with a leather bottle, a small piece of meat and a book.
After putting on the jacket, that also showed signs of long use mostly around the elbows, he pulled off the cap of the bottle and placed opening on his mouth. Cold water flowed out of the bottle, cooling down his warm body and stopping his thirst. He swept of a few drops of his mouth as he lowered the bottle and took up the piece of meat, placing it in his mouth. While chewing he took up the book and placed it on his lap as he leaned against the rock. He looked around and his grey eyes scanned the area around him. There was nobody only a few birds he couldn’t define flying high in the air as the first stars started to appear in the now dark blue sky. After making sure that he was alone he looked down again to the book.

It was not very big or thick, in fact it looked like a book that you would normally find in the library or in bookshelves from old people who had kept books from their times, a memory from long forgotten times.
It had a dark brown leather cover that looked a bit thorn and was curled over on the edges. It had about two hundred pages made of paper that had collared yellow as time had passed by and that rustled when you turned them around. On some pages there were signs of use; a spot of tobacco, dirt from countless fingers that had touched these papers, carvings made as remembrance. All markings of use, all markings of people which had searched just like him to something they could not get a grip on.
The only thing that really stood out from the book was the marking on the front.

It was like if you would duplicate the mark and turn it ninety degree to the left of the right it would fit perfectly again.
The mark was drawn with black ink and was surprisingly enough still bright and good to see although the front had travelled a lot through the years and had endured a lot of severe weather.
And it was yet this mark that made the book so special and so wanted for this was a mark that showed use the way of life, the flow of time and the path of destiny but only for those who could understand its riddle and that was something professor Rimores could not.
Not yet.

The professor sighed as he looked to the mark and let his long fingers run over it, first over the circle in the middle, following the small lines, and then moving over the other circle going along with the strange waves. Still he had no idea what the mark meant nor did he knew what the book was talking about. It spoke in riddles that he could not understand. Riddles that seemed unsolvable and he had never heard of someone who did solve them.
It was not like he couldn’t read the letters in the book, that he was perfectly capable of but it was more like when he read the words again and again that he was missing their point, their meaning.
It made him feel miserable, it drove him mad.

Suddenly he noticed something and he looked up. There was a sound of snuffling somewhere close to him, it was faint and he would never have heard it if he hadn’t been in the desert and in this situation but now he heard it very clear. Also there was the sound of some beast inhaling air and exhaling it again after a few seconds. The professor stayed as silent as he could, not moving an inch from the spot he was sitting. Carefully he scanned his surroundings. The hills of sand. The cactuses. The rocks.
Luckily the fire didn’t smoke much was the first thought that popped up in his mind as he tried to look around the corner of the rock by stretching out his body which was of course of no use. The snuffling came closer; it was almost by the corner.
The professor took out his pocketknife from his pocket and opened it with a soft click. Slowly and without making a sound he stood up and readied himself. If he had to fight than he would fight and he would protect the book with his life, it was too much work to give away for nothing.
His breath quickened and the seconds seemed to take ages to tick away as he waited for his enemies to move around the corner. There was a movement of small legs and then something started to appear.
With a soft yell professor Rimores jumped towards the corner with the knife in front of him, aiming for the person that he expected to come around the corner any second. But the fact was that it didn’t or else said there was coming something around the corner only it was not a human and certainly not someone with a weapon or with the intentions to rob or kill him.

In fact it was a small orange body standing on four small orange legs and with a big, very big orange head. It had small black eyes with a white sparkle in it and a mouth with many teeth. It was snuffling on the ground and looked surprised up as a man suddenly jumped towards him. Its first reaction was digging itself in and disappear in the sand and his small legs started to scratch over the rocky ground. When it noticed that it could not make a hole to flee it looked with frightening eyes up to the man and started, to the man’s surprise, crying.

Professor Rimores could nearly dodge the creature in his jump and landed uncomfortable with his knees on the rocky ground. He had never been good a gymnastics and jumping and fighting was actually nothing for him. A good book and some nice sofa were more then enough for him.
He stood up again and looked to the little creature that had probably freaked out when he jumped towards him. It was a touching sight as he saw the creature cry. He kneeled down in front of it.

“He little fellow, don’t cry,” he said and his grey eyes looked friendly to the crying creature. “I’m sorry I scared you, I didn’t mean to. I was just afraid that someone bad would come and would take my book. It was not your fault.” He smiled and stretched out his hand to his bag, taking out a small piece of meat.
He didn’t know if this creature liked meat but he could at least try it, it looked hungry and tired.
“Here you go little fellow, for you,” he said as he presented to meat to the orange creature.

Its eyes looked a bit unsure but then it opened his big mouth and showed his teeth as he accepted the meat. It chewed a few times and then looked full expectation back at Rimores. His eyes asked more.

The professor laughed and took out another piece. He knew that this wasn’t very smart since he needed the meat himself for the long journey he had still to go but something in this little fellow moved him and made him happy.
“All right one other one then but only one,” he said as he threw the meat towards it and looked to the creature caught it and happily started chewing again. He smiled so that his dry lips bursted open and he immediately stopped.
“You’re a Trapinch aren’t you,” he said mostly to himself since there wasn’t anyone else around to confirm it. To his surprise the Trapinch started to walk towards the fire, his little legs made a funny sound on the stones.

{Pinch pinch,} it exclaimed full confidence as it looked full surprise to the campfire.

Now that the Trapinch stood with his back towards the professor he could see a strange mark made of sand on the end of his back. Two small circles, the one enclosing the other. Then the wind came up and blew the sand away, swirling it up in the air. The professor frowned and walked towards the fire just as the Trapinch placed one of his legs in the fire. Surprised by the heath of the flames it pulled it back immediately, looking confused back to the professor.

“Yeah that is hot, you shouldn’t do that,” he said laughing which caused his lips to burst open even more. With a twisted face he placed his fingers on them and a pang of pain went though his body. Quickly he took them off again and was about to sit down next to his new friend as a pang of insight struck him.
He looked to the Trapinch and looked how it snuffled and found its way to his bag in which more meat was hidden. It started to walk around it trying to get the bag open. Snuffling was what the Trapinch did but there had been another sound, the inhaling and exhaling from a beast, and that sound came certainly not from this little creature.

He looked down on the Trapinch as he frowned and rustled his hand through his hair. Suddenly out of nowhere he felt a slap on back of his head. First there was pain then everything turned black and he fell. The last thing he heard was the screaming of the Trapinch who had started crying again and the inhaling and exhaling from a beast that now stood behind him

Last edited by Lunar Wing; 01-31-2010 at 08:22 PM.
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Old 01-23-2010, 09:38 PM
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Default Re: The Ways of Destiny

Way Two: Everything is stated

He was lying on something very soft. He tried to open his eyes but it felt like there hung a weight on both of them that made it impossible for him to open them even an inch so he stopped trying instead he focussed on something else. He tried to move his fingers and surprisingly he could move them up and down and from the left to the right. His fingers felt a soft material which moved along with his fingers as he pushed. For a moment he wondered was it could be...

A mattress of course then popped up in his mind. He was laying on a mattress.

After a short time he tried his eyes again and this time he could open them a bit. Before him was something beige. A wall made of sandstone. He stretched out his hand to touch it, the soft stone crumbled a bit under his fingers and he felt a few grains of sand falling on his arm. His hand plumped down on the bed again.

He was laying on his belly, his head facing the beige wall. He laid there for a minute or two just staring then something struck his mind and he pushed himself up. Immediately a pang of pain went through his head, making him fall down in the red cushions again. He gasped and closed his eyes, falling off in strange dreams where someone sneaked up to him from behind but every time he looked back there was no one.


When he woke up again he was laying on his back and stared to the ceiling. It was painted white and decorated with blue lines that formed a five pointed star covering the whole ceiling. He laid still, not wishing for another stroke of pain but after laying a few minutes motionless he slowly turned his head to see the rest of the room.

It was not a big room but still it was probably bigger then he tiny little room he used to work in at home. There was one window, complete with jail bars and light blue curtains that puffed up in the small breeze that entered the room. The door was made of solid wood and was beautifully decorated with golden curls and lines that all seemed to flow down to the handle.

It is probably locked. The professor thought gloomy as he let his eyes moved over the rest of the furniture.

There was a closet made from light brown wood and a relative small sofa that looked like it came directly from the antiquarian. It was white with glitters of silver and red cushions all over it. A bookcase standing left from the door held many books and on a small desk there lay some paper and a pencil ready to be used. On the walls hung several old woven rugs in red, green and silver and the ground was also covered with a thick carpet in broken white. Everything included it was a pretty luxury room for a prisoner.

The professor decided that he had lain long enough and with pain and effort he worked himself up until he sat on the edge of his bed. He panted a bit but determined he stood up and walked over to the window. He placed his hand on the window-sill and looked outside.

Outside it was everything was still, not only was their almost no sound there also moved nothing only some leaves swept up by a light breeze. The sky was blue, which meant that he had slept for only one night he assumed, and the sand was dark yellow. He was still in the desert. Suddenly there was movement as a man walked around the corner of the huge building and passed Professor Rimores window. He was dressed in a traditional light yellow soedra and carried a sword on his hip.

A guard.

The professor moved away from the window after pulling helpless on the bars but they did not move an inch. He walked over to the door and without any hope he turned the handle.

It opened.

The door opened with a soft click and for a moment the professor stared to the door. “It is a joke,” he mumbled to himself. “It has to be.” Slowly he pushed the door and the wood moved with him without making a sound.

Maybe they forgot to lock it... No wait that would be ridiculous, how could you forget to lock a prisoner away? He thought confused as he opened the door further and stepped outside.

The carpet changed in a light wooden floor and the walls turned white. There were windows in front of him that looked probably to an open space in the middle, the centre of the house. Light came pouring through the windows, blinding the professor.

“Ah you’re awake Sir.”

A voice emerged from his right and swiftly the professor turned right facing a man dressed the same as the man outside only he wore a light blue soedra and a light blue band over his clothed head. It was probably some kind of status. The professor stared at the man, his mouth opened a bit but there came no words. Instead of that the man smiled and spoke again.

“The sultan has been waiting eagerly for you awakening Sir. Come let me bring you to him, the sultan doesn’t enjoy waiting very much.” He said on a polite tone as he stretched out his hand to let him go first.

Still a bit dazzled the professor walked along with the man through the white halls. They took several turns and curves but all the time there was a way to see though a window the middle of the palace, for it was of course a palace where the professor now was held captive.

After a minute or two they came by two big wooden doors that were engraved with ancient words in gold and silver. The professor had not enough time to read them for then the doors opened and he was let in a magnificent hall and was forced to let the door for what is was.

It would be impossible to describe the hall for you would never reach what really is like. It was huge and over decorated with sculptures, paintings, gold and silver. In the back a throne was put up made from a couple of enormous red silver cushions surrounded by all kinds of food and drinks. On the throne a man with black hair and a black moustache sat dressed in one of the most beautiful Soedra’s the professor had ever seen.

“My dear professor,” the man said jovial. “How glad I am to see you alive!” His way of speaking was big and blown up, every word was spoken with a certain accent.

“Why did you kidnap me?” The professor said suspicious.

The man frowned and his hands that had been picking up grapes while he spoke halted then the man smiled broad and said genial. “Ah I can see your misunderstanding professor.” His hands started moving again, picking up a grape, bringing it to his mouth, pick, move, pick, move. “But nothing of that kind I did.” He spread out his hands while crewing. “I was merely enjoying my daily ride on my Camerupt; I have a beautiful horde of them you know, as one of my scouts found you laying unconscious on the rocks. So I took the responsibility for you and gave you a place in my palace to cure and become strong again.”

The professor stared to the man. “Then… Then who did... wh-“He said to himself.

The man ignored his mumbling and talked on with his jovial voice: “But come where is my hospitality,” he clipped with his fingers and a door at the left wall opened. Delicious smells emerged from the room and found their way towards the professor’s nose. He realized how hungry he had been now that he smelled all the food that must be in the next room.

The man smiled and with pain and effort he stood up, it was actually quite amazing to think that this man could ride on a Camerupt or even move fluently with his fat body. He gestured the professor to the next room where their meal had been prepared.

Last edited by Lunar Wing; 01-31-2010 at 08:40 PM.
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