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Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.


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  #1  
Old 06-13-2008, 08:16 PM
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Default [WAR VII] Shirley

Okay, so I took a different approach to the topic. I hope it's okay, because I wrote all of this in one sitting at 4:00 am this morning. ;D

__________


Shirley.


“We’ve arrived, Ms. Svetlana.”

The driver’s voice acted as a rope to my consciousness; the simple acknowledgement reeled me away from the pivotal point of a stupor to once again thrive in the recognition of my surroundings. The ethnic man, donning a ridiculous cap inscribed with the emblem of my estate, leaned over the seat, surveying me with glazed eyes. It was obvious that my trip from cognizance was entirely conspicuous to him, yet it was equally apparent that he paid no mind to it.

“Oh,” I chirped, fumbling with the handbag in my lap, “Yes, thank you, Victor.” There was no complex gratitude behind my words. In fact, I was barely aware that they had pried themselves from my lips at all, for it was such an innate response toward one that had done a deed under my request.

In a synchronized movement, I threw open the door and slid my stocking-swathed calves from the leather interior of the limousine. High-heels met the corroded sidewalk as I slipped from the inside of the vehicle, relishing in the delicate breeze that fought in vain to break the clasps on my coat. Early spring had yet to bring the blazing temperatures known in Goldenrod, so such apparel wasn’t deemed inappropriate just yet.

I gazed toward the building that we had arrived upon. Comprised of unmarred soft gray marble and supported on all sides by columns plastered with intricate carvings portraying angelic figures, the structure was impressive in both mass and beauty. An expanse of stairs impeded the sidewalk, and I quickly mounted them, neglecting the handrail, for only Mew knew what infected simpleton had laid their diseased tentacle of a hand upon it over the years.

The National Bank of Johto.

The name alone brought a sense of prestige washing over me as I climbed the final steps, inspecting the golden lettering sprawled above the door. Said to house the largest collection of funds in not only the region, but perhaps the world, this had to be one of the most significant buildings in operation. Millions buzzed to and from this place on at least some occasion during their bleak and meaningless day, and already I could see a line winding toward the door.

You’re close.

The hiss broke my examination of the bank, and as a precaution I swiveled about. However, as always, there stood no individual leaning over my shoulder, whispering these words into my ear. They spawned from an internal source, and this was certainly not the first time in which they had invaded my thoughts.

Just a bit further. You know what to do.

It was unknown even to me whether the voice was male or female, for the sentences it spoke were pronounced in such a whisper that such information was unattainable.

I froze.

By now I knew not to fight the messages it spoke. I knew not to throw myself headlong against a wall in an effort to shake the voice loose, not to wrench at my hair and face in a foolish attempt to free myself from its grasp. The bruises were evidence to this. Yet the voice remained.

It would be senseless of me to take a guess at how long I had harbored such an entity. Ever since being crowned the Pokemon League Champion, I would suppose. At first, I had considered it to be just another commodity to pass along, such as the trophy and title that had been bestowed upon me eight months ago. It had actually been a belief of mine that these daft thoughts had plagued the former champions. In all my twenty-six years, I had never considered myself to be a naivete, that is, until such a theory claimed my mind. But, as such, the voice had dispelled that speculation upon its latest entrance.

Each morning I would awake, blissfully ignorant of its presence, until it would strike with a dreadful command, differing every time. The initial task that it had demanded of me was nothing more than to scorn a servant of mine, which I did with bitter ease. Most, following that, were just frequent, trivial labors as such… A minor theft here, an undeserved lashing of one of my Pokemon there, nothing more than insignificant measures.

I had grown so accustomed to petty occurrences such as those that today’s assignment shocked me to a point where I could barely stand upright. To say that I was completely caught off guard would be a falsehood, for there had always been a lingering expectance of such a request.

Drifting from my inner scrutiny, I found myself amazed that this voice could conjure up the ability within myself to completely disregard whatever action I happened to be performing to stop and delve into deep thought. I had managed to make it to the sliding glass doors, and watched in distant embarrassment as the inhabitants of the bank shot disdainful and inquisitive looks in my direction. Clearly my turquoise fedora draped in a black velvet ribbon and high-collared merino jacket hid my identity to such a point where these citizens couldn’t even distinguish their own champion. Strangely, it was reassuring.

Hurrying inside, the scent of stale coffee and city dwellers washed over me. It wasn’t the most appealing of combinations. Pausing briefly, I attempted to locate the cash counter among the milling and shuffling crowd, which seemed intent upon blocking my vision. The chamber was vast enough to house two football fields, yet these people found it necessary to cluster within the inner reaches of the room. It was just another mystery of human nature, I supposed.

When I had, at last, located the nearest counter, I breezed over to it, casually nudging aside those that acted as hindrances, only to earn a couple cries of protest. These, I shrugged off, finally making it to the front of the winding line. In order to earn my place as the lead customer, I found it necessary to flash the current holder of the position, an Asian businessman, a dazzling smile and twirl a lock of my shoulder-length honey-shaded hair. An instance in which my charm had not yielded in me getting what I wanted had yet to present itself, and as customary, the man scooted back a few feet, allowing me to step in front of him.

“Yes, how may I help you?” the rather toad-like bank teller asked, the monotonous tone of her words failing to give me the impression that she enjoyed this profession. Dingy coils of graying almond hung around her eyes, which drooped as though belonging to a basset hound. A dark, bulbous mole stood prominently against the backdrop of peach that was her upper lip, and I cringed at the sight of the grapevine-patterned dress that she had barely managed to squeeze her corpulent frame into.

Do it.

My analysis of the lady’s appearance was cut short by the returning hiss, and in the faintest hope that the voice had come from somewhere other than my mind, I bent over the mahogany desk and muttered, “Excuse me?”

It was obvious that she had, in fact, not been the source of such a noise, for the elderly woman, whose nametag dubbed her “Shirley”, sighed and repeated, rather irritatingly, ”Yes, how may I help you?”

My hopes dashed, I proceeded to continue with what I had come to do. “Oh. Yes… Well, you see…-“

Quit stalling. Do it now.

And with that, my hand came rocketing from within the confines of my coat pocket, a red and opaque sphere within the steel grip. I made no attempt to make the action seem inconspicuous, and tossed the Pokéball to my right, into a group of chattering businesspeople, who quickly scattered at the sight of the reeling, flashing orb.

“Where’s your safe?” I inquired of Shirley, endeavoring to confer a threatening note to my words. Boggled eyes greeted me, quite unlike the sleep-drowned ones she had donned only seconds earlier. Her lips trembled in what I took to be progressing speech, but the blinding flash of the opening Pokéball obstructed my further vision.

When the brilliant glare and dancing spots cleared, a monstrous entity rose up from the spot that had just previously harbored a teetering Pokéball. Rust-iron coated shoulders emerged from the splintering light to tower above the gaping crowd. The nose-tickling tang of dust cantered from the creature, and with a deafening roar, the Rhyperior propelled the desk into the air, where it twirled, almost magically, for a brief moment, then fell to the floor in an almighty crash. Bellows and shrieks of horror clogged the air, but I disregarded such acts of weakness and clambered over Shirley’s desk, snatching at the lapels of her suit.
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Last edited by Bryce; 06-13-2008 at 08:55 PM.
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  #2  
Old 06-13-2008, 08:17 PM
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Default Re: [WAR VII] Shirley


“Tell me where the damned safe is!” I screeched into her panic-stricken face, knowing that the arrival of my Rhyperior would reinforce the ideal that she had better not lie. My sparkling green eyes bore into hers, and I could only guess that from her perspective, they were anything but comely. Beauty can become a deadly thing when tainted with rage, and at the moment, I was verging on lethal.

“It- It’s behind me,” she stammered, her face abnormally calm for such a situation. It was only then that I became aware of the strain in her forearms and the continuous nodding of her head. Glancing down, I could see Shirley pressing away at a hidden button on the underside of the desk, a silent alarm no doubt.

Infused with a fury unlike any I had felt wash through my body before, I struck her a forceful blow across the cheek, which sent her tumbling from her seat. Then, paying no mind to whatever injury I had bestowed, I leaped to the ground on the opposite side of the wooden structure, listening to the low rumble that spawned from Rhyperior following in my wake. It took but seconds to locate the safe, for with its glistening steel doors and various sets of keypads adorning all sides, it wasn’t hard to locate.

“Rhyperior, Horn Drill.”

On command, the Pokémon hastened to my side and took a sturdy stance before thrusting the most prominent and serrated of its horns into the dead center of the door. The grinding, screeching sound that sprang from such an act extended to all reaches of the room, and every person, in their effort to evacuate the building, fell to their knees in agony. Hands were thrown to defend ears, and I grinned at their pain…

What was wrong with me?

When the shrill rasping noise gave way to that of an incessant, dull thudding, I concluded that Rhyperior had successfully breached the initial layer of the safe’s defenses, and thus called another dictation.

“Hammer Arm!”

Just as the Rhyperior tottered to the extent of his toes, in order to get the maximum leverage with which to deliver the attack, a sequence of shouting and barking encroached the scene. Turning to face the mob of terrified customers and workers, I could view the flashing blue lights and a succession of uniform-clad men rushing toward the doors, guns drawn, steely expressions marking their faces.

I couldn’t allow them to enter. After all, I had come this far, and I knew that if they were to get within the building that all hopes of pulling this stint off would be dashed. I would fail the voice, and only Mew knew what consequences my psyche would face then.

“Rhyperior, use Earthquake instead! Hurry!”

Interrupted from his previous attack, the Drill Pokemon threw himself upon the floor, proceeding to bash at the gleaming tiled ground with dull fists. The tremor following that zipped across the entire bank, uprooting every tile, tossing people, as though rag dolls, into the walls and each other, and activating the building’s defenses. As planned, the metal sheathes used as protection at night cascaded from the ceiling, shielding the door from any intruder, yet another thing that I had not accounted for was the inducement of the sprinkler system.

The spickets mounted atop the ceiling initiated, sending a shower of water cascading down upon every inch of the bank. Not but twenty seconds passed before every individual and implement in the place was soaked to its very core, and I realized, with an unnerving shudder, that this would do nothing to help the cause of my Rhyperior.

Content with my strategy of keeping the police out, I turned back to my operation, leaving the captive citizens to snivel amongst themselves. After all, they were no threat. Or so I had thought.

Sodden with the continuing sprinkle of water, my hat toppled from its spot upon my head, exposing my glimmering locks, which had yet to be drenched. That is, until a potent blast of liquid plowed into my back, pitching me into the wall, from where I gasped and sputtered for breath. Blinded by the mist that hung low to the ground from the sprinklers, I could barely make out my Rhyperior being buffeted by the burst, his limbs flailing in apparent pain.

Confused by this occurrence, I glanced back toward the door, expecting to see a police officer standing with his trusted Swampert, who somehow had gotten past the doors. Yet my expectations of a burly and powerful man fizzled out when I saw the person that dared challenge me. Stout and portly, her face drawn back in a sneer, Shirley stood, hands out around her, calling another command to the Quagsire at her left.

Had I not suddenly been overcome with a fit of laughter at the notion of her believing that she could defeat me, I could have easily avoided the second rendition of the Muddy Water attack. However, blinded my own incredulity, I was unable to rid myself of the Water Fish Pokémon’s path as it galloped forward, a swell of brackish liquid cascading over it. It struck me head on, and I was once again thrown mercilessly back into my Rhyperior, who shrank to the floor, suffering a perpetuity of distressing spasms.

“Enough!” I roared, regaining my stance with difficulty. “Rhyperior, Take Down!”

The rhinoceros-like creature, delayed by his flooded skin, threw himself forward, grunts and snorts fluttering up from his lungs. Then, just as he neared the bulbous azure Quagsire, he reared to his fullest stance.

It was at this moment that I heard Shirley speak again, her monotonous tone lost to that of a stern, passionate pitch. “Counter.”

My scream of protest was caught in my throat, and stricken with the need to prevent my Pokémon from concluding the attack, I stumbled forward. But, alas, it was too late.

The Rhyperior tackled its unharmed adversary with unrivaled force, plowing the creature into the floor with a grinding clunk. However, the Quagsire reacquired its footing far too quick for the Drill Pokémon, and thus was allowed to lift the ponderous beast from the ground, a feat unknown to any Pokémon ever before, and slam him back to the floor with a thunderous boom.

I choked back a wail and watched through a tear-clogged vision as the iron padding on his shoulders fractured, his various horns shattered, and the aura of life drained from him.

You idiot. That’s it. It’s all over. You’re done for.

I made no effort to escape. It would just have been in vain. There was no mistaking the clatter as the doors were thrown open, nor the pattering footsteps as the police entered the bank. I was barely mindful of their presence as they surrounded me, shotguns thrust against my head, nor as my wrists were bound and my body lifted and shoved in some unknown direction.

How I had been beaten, in this untraditional sense, by a lady thrice that of my age, was unknown. I knew not why my tactics failed me, nor why I made no effort to call out another Pokémon. Surely my team of impregnable creatures could overcome even the strongest of these officers.

Nothing else existed to me now other than the deepest ire I had for that wretch that had defeated me. That hideous creature with whom I had no connection, but whose face alone could now provoke the deepest ire within me. That horrible, terrible, monstrous, evil, putrid, vapid creature.

That…

That…

Shirley.
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Last edited by Bryce; 06-14-2008 at 03:24 PM.
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  #3  
Old 06-14-2008, 02:35 AM
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Default Re: [WAR VII] Shirley

That was.. SO unexpected. And I totally loved it. The whole dark-ish theme you had there made this an awesome read for me. The prospect of the Champion being either a host to some kind of evil entity or simply crazy was pretty awesome, better than a "I'm a super powerful master, rawr." theme.

Everytime I read something of yours, I end up adding words to the vocabulary. And I end up some, as well. It makes me feel inferior. ;-;

Two things I noticed which I will point out 'cause I can:

Quote:
After all, I had come this far, and I knew that if they were to get within the building that all hopes of pulling this stint off would be dashed.
Think you meant "stunt". However, I didn't even know "stint" was a word until now. ;o

Quote:
Then, just as he neared the bulbous azure Quagsire, reared to his fullest stance.
Missing some kind of noun here.

This one-shot is awesome, it reminds me as to why you're my pair. xD Also, the fact that you used the ugliest Pokemon ever (IMO, Rhyperior) does not hinder how I much I loved reading this.

Awesome, Bryce, and I wish you the best of luck. ;D

- Kat
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Old 06-14-2008, 04:24 AM
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Default Re: [WAR VII] Shirley

Quote:
Originally Posted by PhantomKat7 View Post
That was.. SO unexpected. And I totally loved it. The whole dark-ish theme you had there made this an awesome read for me. The prospect of the Champion being either a host to some kind of evil entity or simply crazy was pretty awesome, better than a "I'm a super powerful master, rawr." theme.

Awwww. That really means a lot to me. The whole "Shirley is the one that defeats her" concept just came up right as I was writing that part. xD

I found it rather comical.

Quote:
Think you meant "stunt". However, I didn't even know "stint" was a word until now. ;o
Actually, no. I did mean "stint". It means "task, responsibility, etc." Stunt could work as well.

Quote:
This one-shot is awesome, it reminds me as to why you're my pair. xD Also, the fact that you used the ugliest Pokemon ever (IMO, Rhyperior) does not hinder how I much I loved reading this.
Ehh. I wasn't that proud of it, but thanks. ^___^

And, to be honest, every time before I start to write a story, I read through one of yours for inspiration, and that is totally not a lie.

Thanks, Kat! <3

& The best of luck to you, too. :3
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Old 06-14-2008, 04:31 AM
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Default Re: [WAR VII] Shirley

Quote:
Originally Posted by BryceBoy10 View Post

Awwww. That really means a lot to me. The whole "Shirley is the one that defeats her" concept just came up right as I was writing that part. xD

I found it rather comical.




Actually, no. I did mean "stint". It means "task, responsibility, etc." Stunt could work as well.



Ehh. I wasn't that proud of it, but thanks. ^___^

And, to be honest, every time before I start to write a story, I read through one of yours for inspiration, and that is totally not a lie.

Thanks, Kat! <3

& The best of luck to you, too. :3
Hehe, Shirley. When I think about it ended, I laugh. xD

Really? Mmm, weird 'cause teh definition I got was:

Quote:
1. vi be miserly: to be ungenerous in offering, providing, or giving something
For a really good mousse, don't stint on the chocolate.

2. vt deny somebody something: to deny somebody something out of miserliness, or deny yourself something, usually in an act of sacrifice
"your mother and me economizing and stinting ourselves to give you a University education" (Thomas Hardy Tess of the d'Urbervilles 1891)
3. vi undergo stoppage or halt: to stop or halt (archaic)


n (plural stints)
1. allotted time: a fixed period of time spent on a task or job
do a two-year stint as an apprentice

2. limitation: limitation or restriction, especially in time or amount
"I gave him time and thought without stint" (Willa Cather The Professor's House 1925)
3. stoppage: a pause or stoppage (archaic)

Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
But meh, weird. xP

Aww, that makes me feel so warm inside, I never knew you likes my writing so much. <33Your stories always inspire me, too, they just take this whole different approach that blows my mind away.

And thankies. Luck to us OOA members! ^^

- Kat
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