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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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Old 05-28-2009, 04:53 AM
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Default Feral Game (PG-13)

Disclaimer:
All rights to Pokémon, the species names of such, Team Galactic, Cyrus, and all other general game and/or animé data are copyright Nintendo, The Pokémon Company, Game Freak Inc., and all other applicable parties involved in their creation.

All original characters not covered above are copyright myself.

Story Rating:
This story is rated PG-13 for mild language, violence, and thematic elements.

Chapter One: Experience Points the Way

A young man, no more than seventeen, lay inside of a wrought-iron cage, with solid bars about a quarter-inch apart lining it. His skin was a slightly pale shade of tan, proving that, while he typically bronzed himself under the sun, his recent incarceration had caused his complexion to fade back toward its natural state. His head was a mess of untamed, crimson locks that looked as though he hadn't had a haircut in months. He breathed lightly as he slept, and his chest heaved slowly with each passing second. He was a captive in Team Galactic's headquarters, and sleeping was about the only thing that passed time with any reliable speed.

The young prisoner wore a pitch black jumpsuit, one size too small for his five-foot-seven body. He looked as though he was cursing his captors for giving him the tight and itchy clothing, but it was certainly better than being stripped to nakedness. He had a somewhat thin, yet moderately muscled build that required him to wear a large size in clothing. It was unfortunate that many of the Galactic employees shared his clothing size, as the prisoner's garb was nothing more than the Galactic uniform painted a pure ebony and sewn together crudely. Obviously, prisoners received nothing more than hand-me-down clothing, and were lucky to even have that.

The cell containing the youth was about six-foot-two in height, and five-four in length. The width measured an even two feet, and comfortably fit the prisoner inside. It wasn't too comfortable, though, as it housed no furniture, or anything else for that matter. Going to sleep meant doing so on the cold, metallic ground, and often left captives in pain, or halted their rest altogether. It was the barest of lives, and the only food given to the prisoners was a small ration of bread once daily, usually around nine in the evening. Water was given with each food ration, and was put in a small bowl that was only allowed to be used for two minutes. It was then taken away until the next night, when the process repeated itself.

The surroundings weren't any more cheerful than the lifestyle. The basement was dimly lit, and smelled of toxic waste and body odor. Not all of the odor was human, and most of it was considerably vile, though most of the prisoners ended up adjusting to it. It was barely possible to see anything inside unless an employee happened to be down there on a matter of business. The grunts usually carried candles, which didn't help matters much, but the higher officials were allotted lanterns and flashlights, which was a considerable aide to a prisoner's sight. Only the highest of the scientists and leaders had the key to the light switch near the stairwell, and seeing one of them in the filth was rarer than seeing a shiny Pokémon.

A faint light flickered on and off in the dark, dank distance, and the youth stirred softly, finally opening his eyes and stretching his arms. His blue eyes blinked as they adjusted to the waking world, and his arms tensed up as he stretched to ease his muscle aches, groaning with each pop he heard.

“Well, well, well... look who's finally up,” a voice suddenly spat through the dankness.

“Huh?” the young man asked hazily. “Are you talking to me?”

"Yes, I am,” the reply came back. “So, how long have you been here?"

The teenager looked over in the direction of the strange voice. He shrugged his broad shoulders and replied, "About a week, I'd guess." As he shook his head, his untamed red hair fell backward behind his ears. He stared at the iron bars of his cage and put his head in his hands, looking either exhausted, ashamed, or a combination of the two.

"You'll never make it out," the voice said suddenly in a gruff tone. "I've been here for... well, I believe about twenty-one years. I'd wager my last coin that you've been alive for less time than that. Unfortunately, they took all my coins and bills when they threw me in this stuffy old prison trap. I can't remember what I was even doing here when I got captured. I don't remember my true name anymore. This dank hellhole took all that I held dear, including my memories..."

The redhead looked up and nodded. "Legendaries alive... well, I remember my sister Kyra had called me over here to discuss some monetary problems she'd been having. Then the next thing I remember, I woke up in this cage. My name's Dylan... Dylan Jones." He nodded softly and looked at the ceiling of his makeshift cell. "Speaking of money, you'd win that wager you made. I'm only sixteen years old." He chuckled softly and showed a half-smile. His teeth were barely faded, with a near-perfect alignment. Only the space between his two front teeth seemed to be off.

"Dylan Jones..." The voice was silent for a minute as its owner seemed to be pondering. "You can call me Shade," it finally replied, adding a deep groan in the end. "That's what the guards and scientists seem to call me, at least. I don't know why you're here, but I hope you'll tough out your incarceration. In a cell with nothing to do, I'm surprised I never fell over dead from the pure boredom."

"Shade..." Dylan uttered suddenly.

"Yes?" came the reply.

"Since when did Team Galactic have such an elaborate prison scheme?"

"Hmm... Dylan, I'm not one hundred percent sure," Shade answered hesitantly. "I believe this is an old, underground facility of theirs. Only the high-ranking officials and inmates will ever find out about the history of the dungeon that we're entombed in. When Team Galactic was founded forty years ago, they originally built this place to store highly dangerous experiments and incurably wild Pokémon.

"Ten years later," Shade went on, "most of this large room was destroyed in a fire caused by one of the loosened experiments. History has forgotten who he was before Galactic got their mitts on him; now we only know him as 'Pyrus.' The only prior history of Pyrus that is certain is the fact that he was once a human being.

"His species and all other attributes are a mystery to even Galactic officials. They never kept records of anyone they experimented on, just in case the police ever found their hidden laboratory. After the fire was quelled by alert guards, the surviving experiments and Pokémon were moved to a warehouse about a quarter-mile north of here. In the chaos of the moving day, Pyrus fought his way past the guards and up the stairwell.

"Upon weaving his way to the ground floor, he outfoxed the greatest mind of the Galactic force: Cyrus. Disguising himself as a grunt, he was ordered by Cyrus to leave for the day and get some rest, as 'tomorrow our plan will swing into full force.' He willfully obeyed, and upon his exit of the Galactic hideout, no one ever saw him again... and this basement has since been all but abandoned."

“Wait,” Dylan said, a little confused. “How did he escape without someone noticing him being an experiment?”

“No one is completely sure,” Shade explained. “It's said that either his disguise was simply incredible, or that Cyrus slipped up really badly. I'm not going to try and doubt Cyrus, so I'll go with the disguise theory. And, technically, the correct term for his experiment type is Pokémorph.”

“What's a Pokémorph?”

“A Pokémorph is a being that has the DNA of both a human and Pokémon source. The helices combine in a very complicated fashion, and the outward appearance reflects this unusual union by displaying the traits of both DNA donors. The most complicated one I've heard of involved two Pokémon donors and a single human. This is actually a fairly common method of punishment for non-compliant Galactic employees. In fact, it's estimated that as many as twenty-three percent of the experiments in the warehouse are former Galactic grunts.”

“And are we in this warehouse now, or are the prisoners?”

“No, we're in the basement of the official headquarters building, like I said before. Apparently, you and I are a special case to be mocked and ridiculed by all the employees that pass us by. The warehouse was actually recently refurbished, about a month ago, and now houses most of the biological assets of the organization. The prisoners are now said to inhabit a storeroom in Veilstone City, the same city where Cyrus was unceremoniously killed by a wild Ampharos. That's a long, sordid story that I don't even feel like going into right now.

Dylan whistled in awe at all of the information he had just taken in. "So, we're in a former experimental facility?" he asked.

“Yep,” came the answer. “Well, yes and no. Some experiments took place here, but this place mostly housed the finished products of the experiments, not their actual performances."

"That means that I might be exposed to mutated DNA strands at this very moment?"

"Yes," Shade responded with a conceding sigh. "I've never known Team Galactic to wash any of their holding cells, cages, or other equipment in this lower floor. For all we know, your very chemistry might be changing as we speak."

Dylan seemed slightly unnerved at this and settled uneasily into a sitting position, wondering just how much of Shade's story he could trust...

Last edited by Syrynn; 10-13-2009 at 08:56 PM. Reason: Copyright additions
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Old 05-28-2009, 04:53 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Chapter Two: Vial Intentions

The second floor of the H.Q. building was a more biological sort of place, at least in a sense, than the basement was. Beakers of fluids were spread out over a long table, ranging in all colors from a strong red-orange, to a royal purple, and even a light cerulean. A strong, burning stench filled the area, as this was the room where Pokémon and human extracts were taken and boiled to their simplest, liquid form. In this form, the DNA was highly concentrated, and could be used for experiments, or as simply a reference material for future use.

This was the main laboratory, and it housed both established scientists and mid-level grunts who displayed an aptitude for the sciences. Most of the grunts filled up jobs requiring them to take the substances and put them in vials. Several of the grunts up for promotion packaged the sealed vials within cardboard boxes for shipments to the warehouse, a dangerous job that left no room for error. If the vials shattered in the boxes, the fluids would leech through the cardboard and onto the floor, posing not only risks of workplace accidents, but also unwanted contamination.

A blond woman, appearing to be in her late teens or her early twenties, sat at a station with empty vials. She had locks of hair that looked like inverted wheat growing out of her head, draped down as finely as an upper-class curtain hanging over her face. She idly fiddled with a small, glass-coated vial of fluid, and sighed sadly as she stared at the orange substance inside. She then sealed the vial with a small piece of cork, making it airtight and safe for future handling. A frown began to form on her face as she looked at her dark-skinned coworker, no more than eighteen in appearance, who was sitting about five feet to her right, packaging finished vials.

“Chell, I've finished another batch of DNA samples,” the blond woman stated with a groan, placing the vial into a flat-bottomed cardboard divider filled with identical, sealed vials. The glass nestled unevenly inside, as if she didn't care how it looked. She pushed the divider toward her coworker impatiently.

“What do you want, Kyra, a medal?” Chell replied abrasively as she turned toward the blond woman, catching the divider as it slid, and straightening the contents as she carefully placed it on top of another divider inside the topmost box. “We've got more vials to fill so we can send them off to the warehouse. Get back to work.” She sealed the box, which was now filled to the top, and labeled it 'Fire Types.' Her handwriting was very neat, signifying that she took her work more seriously than her compatriot. Her short, walnut-colored hair shuffled as she adjusted her rose-tinted glasses, worn strictly as a fashion accessory. Her hazel eyes cast a reproachful stare beneath the spectacles, seeming to pierce the soul. After Chell had made her point, she turned back toward the nearest empty box, putting it on the table in front of her.

Kyra sighed softly at the unkind response she had received, and shook her head. “Chell, don't be like that,” she said sadly, with a blink of her jade-colored eyes. “I'm not in the mood for this today.” Chell and Kyra normally got along somewhat well, but things weren't really too happy and energetic between the two of them. They had been working together for about four months, and Kyra had been Chell's mentor, of sorts, while the teen had gotten used to the workplace. However, Kyra showed a little resentment toward Chell, who had surprisingly passed her in the corporate ladder.

Chell surpassed all expectations with her cool, level-headed attitude. She showed high aptitudes for biology, and proved her battling skills with a third place finish in the Sinnoh Pokémon League ten months before. After the League finished its championship match, Chell retired, much to the shock of her fellow competitors, to return back to her home in Floaroma Town. She spent six months living peaceably with her Pokémon, and all seemed decent.

Then, one day in late February. Kyra dropped by Floaroma on an errand to pick up Gracidea flowers for an experiment. She noticed Chell feeding her Arcanine some unusual-looking food. After she asked Chell what she was doing, Chell explained that she made food based on the personalities, type, and biological aspects of each Pokémon she encountered. Kyra was impressed, and recommended her to stop by the H.Q. building north of Jubilife, tucked away in a forested nook next to the Ravaged Path.

A day later, Chell showed up with a smile on her face and hope filling her heart. She was hired after about a ten minute interview with the president of Team Galactic, who immediately saw promise in the seventeen-year-old. She was accepted into an entry-level position in the laboratory, and rapidly worked her way up, racking up promotions like she had formerly collected wins as a trainer. Within three months, she had passed Kyra on the ladder, despite being four years younger. She was a prim and proper employee, the type anyone would want on their workforce. However, she had a dark side to her, and she often assisted in experimental injections, relishing every minute of it.

Remembering these facts, Kyra seemed a little miffed as she filled another vial with the orange liquid. She groaned as she lamented the fact that even after nearly two years of employment, she had never really been used to her fullest potential. She knew exactly why, as she began to recall her clumsiness and slightly sub-par intelligence.

“Something up?” Chell queried, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Kyra responded abrasively, shaking the very nerves of her coworker's foundation. "Chell, can't I get a thought in my head without you thinking something's going on?" She threw up her hands in exasperation, the orange polish glistening on her fingernails.

Chell stood up and sighed, her four-nine body seeming like nothing compared to Kyra's five-three frame. “I don't believe you, Kyra,” the brunette replied firmly, yet with a touch of compassion. “Tell me what's really happening.”

"I told you, nothing's wrong!" Kyra flung her hand forward as she yelled, and in her haste, she tossed the vial at Chell. The glass hit her coworker in the face and broke into thousands upon thousands of miniature shards. Chell's face ended up covered in her own crimson blood, along with the orange DNA fluid. Fortunately, Chell's glasses blocked most of the shard heading toward her eyes. Although they were now pretty much shot, they ended up saving her eyes, and most importantly, her vision. The brunette threw her glasses to the ground in disgust, growling in ire.

"****!" Chell yelped as she stomped toward Kyra, her arms also covered in the liquid's splash. “I ought to kick your ass, you no good-”

"Oh gods..." Kyra interrupted as she looked at Chell, on the verge of tears. Kyra looked down and noticed that several hundred shards had flown off in her direction, and now lay at the base of her blue boots. Just above her socks, several shards had cut into her skin, leaving a red, rash-like mark on her leg. Kyra dusted off the bottom of her black lab dress and examined her wound carefully.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught Kyra by surprise. She looked up to find an imposing man staring at Chell with a sneer on his cold, unforgiving face.

The boss of Team Galactic didn't go by any name. Most of the workers just called him 'Boss,' or, at least, the smart ones did. His six-ten stature towered over every other Galactic member. His black tuxedo was a sign of his power, as he was the only one allowed to wear a suit in the facility. Boss had a heavy-set build that brought fright to the workers' faces as they had to look up to even see what emotions he was possibly trying to feel. Boss tapped his right foot, the laces on his leather shoe bouncing slightly with each tap. “Chell Davies, did I just hear you swear at Miss Jones?” he snarled with rage. “Look at me as I'm- oh, Lord Arceus above!” He cried out as Chell turned around, revealing to him her blood-soaked face. “What happened here!?” Boss growled, his teeth gnashing together. “Tell me, now.”

“It's not my fault, Sir,” Chell snapped as she stared daggers at Kyra. “This unacceptable excuse for a human being just tossed a filled vial at me for no reason!”

Boss wheeled around and got right into Kyra's face. “Miss Jones!” the man boomed angrily. “What the hell was going through your mind!?”

Kyra backed away uneasily, her lips quivering nervously. “It... it was an accident, Sir,” Kyra admitted. “My arms were going forward and the vial just... slipped out...”

Boss bought the explanation, but he was absolutely furious nonetheless. “Thanks to your little stunt, Miss Davies is now infected with Pokémon DNA! You've just endangered her greatly, and you should be lucky I'm feeling kind today. Otherwise, I'd fire you on the spot!”

His tone calmed down as he looked back toward Chell. “Miss Davies, since the shards cutting you were so small, we can't really do anything about removing them. I'd at least suggest going up to the nurse's station to get your face cleaned up, and let her treat your cuts. Unfortunately, as far as your infection is concerned, our only vial of antidote is in the basement, along with Dylan and Shade.”

“Why's Dylan down there?” Kyra questioned with a raised brow.

“Considering you performed a double injection on him, he's a potential candidate to go completely feral,” Boss reminded her with an annoyed groan. “Either that, or he'll be another unsuccessful taurform attempt.”

“Taurform?” Chell chimed in, blinking hesitantly. She looked down at her arms, which had been spared from most of the splash, but still had small splotches of orange on them. “I thought we stopped trying to make those.”

“We did,” Boss conceded. “After over two hundred failures, all resulting in the experiment's death, we scrapped Project Taurform back in March. I never thought we'd be talking about that debacle in the middle of June... but we have to now, thanks to Miss Jones bungling up that injection.”

“Today's the fourteenth,” Chell observed. “I guess if I had to estimate, since Kyra injected Dylan on the third, by now he'll either be dead, or have morphed.” Chell sighed sadly as she walked to her left about twenty feet and hit the 'up' button on the elevator. She was heading to the fourth floor to get treated for her injuries at the company nurse's station. The elevator car arrived, and Chell stepped on, pushed the '4' button, and watched the door close in front of her. As the noise of Boss screaming at Kyra was slowly drowned out by the shutting door, Chell thanked her lucky stars that she could still see after the sordid incident with the vial...

Last edited by Syrynn; 10-13-2009 at 09:05 PM. Reason: ...Because the chapter sucked before this edit... ^^
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Old 05-28-2009, 04:54 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Chapter Three: Beak-on of Hope

As Dylan sat in pensive thought, he found his eyes wandering to the right, gazing at a small, pigeon-like bird. Dylan immediately recalled that this creature was called a 'Pidgey.' The bird had a small, vermilion beak, and Dylan noted that this beak shade was unusual for the species, which normally had a pinkish or purplish mouth. Its feet were the same hue of red, and each foot housed a trio of sharp, opal-tinted talons on the front, with a single extra talon on the back for a more favorable hold on tree branches and the like. The wings, underside, brows, and belly were all a creamy beige color, with the rest of the body holding a sienna tinge to it. Its sand-colored eyes blinked slowly at the human as it carefully hopped over.

“Dylan, what are you looking at over there?” Shade questioned, a leery undertone pervading throughout the query.

“It's just a Pidgey,” Dylan answered with a passing wave of his hand. “Mm, she's a beautiful one at that. She's got this amazing cinnabar beak, and her talons look as sharp as steak knives. I'm surprised that she isn't covered in contest ribbons, as pretty as this little birdie is.”

The Pidgey cooed lovingly at Dylan's vehement praise. “Thank you,” she trilled with a longing sigh, “but my beak is actually vermilion, not cinnabar.”

Dylan furrowed his brow at the bird's response. “As far as I recall, vermilion and cinnabar are both pretty much the same shade,” he explained with a hint of confusion. “In fact, vermilion used to be obtained directly from cinnabar, if I recall accurately. Therefore, by all technicalities, either way should be correct.”

The pigeon ruffled her feathers and nodded. “Well played; that's indeed correct,' she sang with a happy blink of her eyes. “Wait, why aren't you freaking out?”

“Why should I be?” The teen seemed even more confused now. He didn't really understand what he was supposed to be freaking out about, if anything at all.

“I'm a talking Pidgey!” the bird crowed with a flap of her wings. “Doesn't that, you know, frighten you!?”

“Not really,” Dylan admitted. “I mean, yeah, back when I first met a talking Pokémon, it was pretty freaky. But ever since then, I've essentially come to expect it whenever I run across a Pokémon anywhere I go. See, I believe that almost any Pokémon possesses the ability to speak the human language. It all boils down to two things. First, if the creature doesn't learn it at some point, it won't happen. Additionally, even if the Pokémon does learn our language, not many of them will want to use it around humans. Remember, humans are fickle and easily amused.”

You're a human,” Pidgey cawed with a chuckle.

“That's not the point,” Dylan continued. “I never was much of a trainer, so I simply gathered the Pokémon that appeared to resonate the most with my emotions. Unfortunately, because of our nature, many other humans don't take the time to appreciate the beauty of the earth, and all the creatures that inhabit it. It's a shame that we don't, because there's so much that we've still got to learn. Certainly, the fact we still don't know all the secrets of the Pokémon universe attests to that.”

“Arceus above; you sound like a clone of the professor,” the pigeon jested.

Dylan chortled uneasily, nodding sadly. “Touché, my avian friend. You have to admit though... what I said holds true.”

“Doesn't make you sound any less like a geek,” the bird laughed. “And call me Pidge, love; you're being way too formal with me.”

“Fine, but don't call me 'love' again. Deal?”

“All right, then. What should I call you?” Pidge cooed happily, giving Dylan as close to a smile as her beak would allow.

“Dylan will be just fine,” the redhead replied, returning Pidge's 'smile.'

“Okay, then Dylan it is.” The bird preened her chest feathers, then turned back to Dylan and cawed, “You said you met a talking Pokémon before. When was that?”

Dylan pondered for a minute or so, and finally answered, “It was when I was eleven. For my birthday that year, Dad gave me a Cyndaquil, and a set of three Poké Balls. He explained that each time I attempted to capture a Pokémon, I had to throw one of the capsules at the Pokémon I wanted to catch. If it was successful, it officially belonged to me... at least, those were his words. I told him I didn't feel right calling myself a Pokémon's owner, so much. I said that if I caught a Pokémon, it was a sign that I was the correct person for it to travel with.”

“Okay, hold up, Dylan,” Pidge interrupted, putting her left wing to her beak. “Don't you get all spiritual with me here. Okay, fire hair?”

Anyway,” Dylan continues, ignoring Pidge's intrusion, “If it was unsuccessful, the Poké Ball would shatter into invisible shards, never to be seen again. Therefore, Dad instructed me to use them carefully, but assured me that I could purchase them at a Poké Mart if I ran out. After his final lesson, he bid me goodbye, and I began my way with my Cyndaquil, who seemed like a perfect partner for my journey.

“She was a bright little fireball, a mouse-like Pokémon with a long snout and a happy grin on her face. She had navy blue fur, with a cream-colored underside. Each of her back paws held a single, ivory claw, with her front paws having no toes at all. They looked like little cream puffs, and wiggled lovingly as I held her for the first time. Her small body bristled with energy, and the top of her back flared up with light flames, warming the Pokémon up even more as I hugged her passionately. I named her Almette, after my mother, who was killed in a car accident a week before my ninth birthday. That's enough ruminating over her, though, so I'll get back to the story.

“As the sun began to set that evening, I made my way to the entrance of Route 201, and a small cat approached me on his hind legs. He was the color of light sand, with darker, bay-colored 'socks' on the hind paws. A tail flowed behind him, the bay tip curled into a small, lollipop-like spiral. His ears were a jet black, and he had amber eyes, flanking just beneath a golden coin emblazoned into his forehead. I didn't realize that he was called a 'Meowth' until I saw the coin charm. I looked at him a little strangely, as I had studied in school that Meowth usually walked on all fours. He called me a 'twoip,' for some odd reason, and stated that he didn't like my staring.

“At once, I was fascinated with the reality of a Pokémon being able to talk, and a bit unnerved at the same time. Immediately, I asked him how he knew how to speak. He replied that he learned a long time ago, along with learning bipedal movement, to impress a female Meowth that he was in love with. His expression saddened as he finished by saying she thought he was a freak after all that work he did.

“Then, he went on and told me a long-winded story about two idiots named Jessie and James, who I assume he had traveled with in his younger years. I recall that he indeed looked a little old, as his fur wasn't quite as vibrant, and his eyes seemed a little droopy. He continued to tell me that his 'moron companions' constantly got him in trouble, and kept causing the three of them to be blasted toward the stratosphere in heavy explosions. He yapped about wasting 'eight of his nine lives' with them. Finally, he explained how he finally ditched the 'dimwitted duo' in Pastoria City by hiding in the Safari Zone.

“After about two more hours of berating Jessie and James, or what seemed like that much time, he finally shut up and lay tiredly at my side. I was perplexed, to say the least. I stayed with him and put Almette down, so she could frolic at my side. I then petted Meowth for a few minutes, and smiled warmly as I listened to his sleepy purrs. He seemed glad that I had listened to his tales, and I watched the sun set beneath the trees, gazing in awe at its rainbow of colors.

“After the sun left our vision, Meowth growled cutely, and asked if I had ever owned a Pokémon. I told him that I had no intentions of being an 'owner,' so much as a 'friend,' of Pokémon, and he meowed approvingly. He admitted that Jessie and James were at least good for that, as they had never forced him into a Poké Ball while he worked with them. He then confessed that he longed to know what it was like to just be friends with a human, in a stress-free environment, and wondered if I would take him along on my journey.

“At first, I declined his offer, but then I realized that this was my chance to listen to a Pokémon tell his story in his own words, in a way I could understand. I then allowed the cat to travel with me, much to his delight. We traveled for about three years together, and I kept a daily journal of our events, told from each of our perspectives. Things were wonderful, even though Meowth seemed to get a little more weary with each passing day.”

“A week after my fourteenth birthday, Meowth passed away due to his old age. I buried him back in Twinleaf Town, next to my old swing set in the backyard. I left him the journal, so that he would be able to take it with him to the afterlife, and recall his experiences with the souls of those whom he cared about. Who knows? He might have met that Meowth from his kitten years up there.” As he finished his tale, Dylan looked up at the ceiling of the cage. He began to wonder if he was ever going to get out of the H.Q. again, and a tear glinted against the corner of his right eye.

Noticing the tear, Pidge sighed adoringly and hopped closer to the bars of Dylan's cage. “That's a beautiful tale, Dylan,” she crowed with a longing sigh. “You must have a wonderful soul inside you. Will you pet me? I want to feel the warmth exude from you.”

Dylan's brow raised curiously, but he nodded with a gentle grin. “Well, you put it pretty strangely, but of course I can pet you, Pidge.” Dylan reached his right hand out as he spoke, rubbing the Pidgey's neck softly. The bird trilled happily, rubbing her beak into Dylan's ring finger.. Some of the cinnabar hues leaked like pigments from her beak, and soaked into the teen's hand. He didn't notice it as he yawned, his petting strokes growing slower until he stopped completely.

Dylan eventually slumped with his back against the bars and looked at Pidge with a satisfied expression. He then fell to the left, and curled up into a ball on the floor, much in the manner of a Meowth. His breathing slowed and he began to go back to sleep. Pounding footsteps echoed through the barren walls of the basement, signifying the usual hustle and bustle of the workplace above...

Last edited by Syrynn; 10-14-2009 at 06:15 PM.
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Old 05-28-2009, 04:55 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Chapter Four: Double Idiocy

Two hours had passed since Kyra's mishap with the vial. She just now had finished sweeping and mopping the floor to remove the shards and DNA concentrate spilled in the area around the table. Thanks to her bungling, packaging on the second floor had completely ceased until the area had been decontaminated. Since Kyra was already infected with Pokémon DNA, she had no need for any protective gear. The elevator door opened, and Boss strode through with Chell by his side.

The brunette's face was cleaned splendidly by the nurse, who always prided herself on a job well done. She had washed Chell with water, and given her entire face several quick dabs of hydrogen peroxide. The peroxide disinfected the surface of the small cuts and abrasions, and though the wounds were hardly visible, the damage was real. Chell was infected with Pokémon DNA, which served as a double whammy brought about by Kyra's mistake.

“The place looks clean,” Boss noted, a half-smile forming on his lips as he and Chell approached the woman carefully. “Then again, since it's already three-thirty in the afternoon, I expected no less, even from someone like you.” Boss put extra emphasis on the last word, implying a deep disdain for nonsensical people like Kyra.

Kyra shrugged her shoulders as she took the broom and mop to the decontamination chamber and put them in, shutting the door in front of them. As she pulled the chain outside, the two tools were instantly besieged by a solid jet of water that cleansed them of the fluids moistening them. After a good two minutes, the water stopped, leaving the soaking broom and mop inside. Kyra opened the door and removed them, leaving them standing up just outside the chamber so they could air-dry.

“Is it three-thirty already?” Kyra asked lightheartedly. “My, how time flies when we nearly blind our friends and are forced to clean up the mess afterward...”

“Cut the crap, Kyra,” Chell snarled as she bared her teeth, which revealed her metallic braces. Chell had been enduring the contraptions on her teeth for six years, and hated them with a fiery passion. “Can we just go get the antidote vial? I want to get this stuff out of me!”

“Yes, could we please go to the basement now, Miss Jones?” Boss agreed. “Let's get moving before the effects become irreversible.”

Kyra agreed that now was not the time for talk, and the three headed to their right, in the opposite direction of the elevator. They came to a dark, gray door, and as Boss pushed the jutting handlebar, they found themselves in a stairwell. The trio headed down each metallic step in a simple, methodical fashion, sticking together the whole way. Two flights later, as they reached the entry door for the basement, Kyra looked over at Chell and apologized sadly for her mistake. Chell forgave her, albeit with an angry glare, and turned the rusty knob to her right, pulling it toward her to reveal the dank basement.

Boss fumbled through his left coat pocket, pulling out a diverse ring of keys. He fiddled around until he felt a key with fifteen small, triangular teeth. The flickering bulb provided just enough luminescence for Boss to find the keyhole for the casing on the wall, which Kyra and Chell both knew held the light switch. Boss inserted the key and turned it to the left, opening the case, and he then proceeded to flip the switch inside upward..

Instantly, the entire basement lit up. The empty walls were revealed to be a putrid shade of olive green, enough to induce vomiting in a queasy individual. Two cages sat in the distance, and Kyra recalled that these contained Dylan and Shade, the only two prisoners held in the basement. Why exactly Shade was here, no one really knew. He was kind of an enigma, and few had even gazed upon his true form.

“Okay, so the antidote vials are in the safe in the back, right?” Kyra asked, the stench beginning to overwhelm her.

Vial,” Boss corrected, “and yes, it's back in the rear safe, past Dylan and Shade.”

“There's only one vial?” Chell queried, growing uneasy in these uncomfortable quarters.

“We made a single vial of antidote for emergency purposes,” Boss explained. “Since Kyra caused you to become infected, her punishment is to be denied the antidote, and become a Pokémorph due to her own incompetence.”

Damn, Kyra told herself angrily. I should have seen this coming from a mile away.

Boss led his two employees toward the cages, drawing a menacing hiss from Shade's cell. Instantly, the man wheeled on the hissing creature, smacking the cage walls with his fists and yelling a string of obscenities at him. Inside, Shade snarled uneasily and reluctantly shut up.

Shade was a curious Pokémorph. His body was scaled and serpentine, with four short, stubby legs extending from it, blanketed in coal-colored fur. His paws had three glistening ebony talons, and barely seemed able to hold the Pokémorph's weight. His tail flowed naturally from his body, appearing to be part of one solid string of scales and bones. A sword-like spade jutted from the end of the tail, and it was half-red, half-black.

Golden hexagons formed a natural pattern on his back, with violet scars crisscrossing every which way on his belly. His face was a pure white, and housed blood-red eyes that could paralyze a skittish opponent with fear. Solid, crimson fangs jutted forth from his mouth, and silently seethed with a deadly poison.

“So Shade, we meet again.” Boss was very casual in his opening line, giving the morph a chance to be civil.

“Piss off, you overgrown bastard,” Shade hissed with a menacingly cold stare. He was rarely, if ever, civil with Boss, and with good reason. Boss was the very man who made Shade into what he was.

Shade used to be a normal Seviper, and he lived freely inside Sinnoh's most famous peak, Mount Coronet. About twenty-one years prior, while on a trip to Snowpoint City, Boss encountered the snake just inside the entrance coming from Celestic Town. He caught the Seviper napping, and Shade failed to escape the Poké Ball thrown at him. Boss later took him back to the H.Q. building for further study.

Upon his return, Boss was presented with a wolf-like Pokémon as a gift from one of his grunts. The creature had a sickle growth jutting upward from the right side of her head, and was covered in silky white fur. She had a jet black, scimitar-shaped tail, and three sharp claws on each of her four paws. Just below her chin, a large 'bandana' of fur puffed out, giving her a majestic appearance. She was an Absol, and her beauty and natural strength made her a prized catch for Team Galactic.

Boss promptly cut off about two inches of the wolf's mane, and put it through the boiling process. The DNA was injected directly into Shade's bloodstream, where the helices interchanged themselves until Shade was roughly fifty percent Seviper, and fifty percent Absol. He gained four Absol legs, though the serpentine strands shrank them to an almost-vestigial size. Shade struggled mightily to walk at first, but through constant physical therapy, he overcame the size disadvantage, and gained all the mobility of a normal Absol. However, this didn't mask the resentment that he held over being experimented on without his consent.

“Shade, Shade, Shade,” Boss chided, having grown immune to the serpentine creature's tongue over the years. “You can at least show some manners toward me. After all, I am trying to extend the favor.”

Shade shook his head, the morph less concerned about manners than he was about his anger. “Yeah? Well, stop trying then. You're not going to make it work.”

Meanwhile, Kyra and Chell looked into Dylan's cage, noticing that the teen had fallen asleep. Kyra seemed a little worried, as she covered her nose to shield the fumes from ravaging the inside of her nasal passages.

“Hey, look up top, Kyra!” Chell exclaimed with a smile. “What a lovely Pidgey.”

She saw that Pidge had been sitting on top of Dylan's cage the whole time, keeping an eye on the state of affairs in her vicinity. They had no time to marvel at the bird, however. They looked back at Dylan and watched him lay nearly motionless for about forty-five seconds.

“I hope he's not dead,” Kyra groaned, a hint of worry crossing her face.

“Look's like he's just asleep,” Chell stated sadly, as she saw Dylan stretch his left leg out in his slumber. “Not a single sign of transformation or death. I'm disappointed.”

“Yeah, it's really weird,” Kyra confessed with a sigh. “It's been almost two weeks since he got here.”

“I know, and that first day is when he drank that six-ounce beaker of corn-shaded DNA concentrate.”

“What do you mean, six-ounce beaker!?” Kyra snapped suddenly. “I injected him with a double dose by accident, and now you're saying what I did had little bearing on him anyway?”

“Hey, he thought it was lemonade,” Chell countered, with a quick chuckle. “He drank it before I had time to even think straight. Besides, if he's that dumb, he deserves whatever happens to him.”

“Are you two done running your mouths about old news?” Boss chimed in. “I'd like to get Miss Davies her antidote, if you don't mind.”

Kyra and Chell looked at each other, nodded, and followed Boss to a silver-plated door. A plate with a twelve-key pad was screwed into the wall to the right, and as Boss quickly pressed in keys in an indeterminable order, the safe clicked and swung open. The two women jumped back to avoid getting hit, and marveled at the sight within. A lone, corked vial sat on a pillow atop a large, wooden two-by-four, which nestled in perfect balance on a stone column two feet high.

Kyra bolted toward the glass container, but she tripped and knocked the column out from under the board as she fell to the concrete floor below. The two-by-four folded backward over the column, batting the pillow away. The three could only watch helplessly as the vial flew against the far wall, smashing on contact into an indefinite number of glass shards, which rained over the board like diamonds falling from the sky.

Damn it!” Boss screeched in rage. “I have had absolutely enough of your idiocy!” He snarled rabidly as he grabbed the two-by-four and pounded Kyra in the back of her skull, knocking the woman unconscious. Boss then instructed Chell to leave the basement, and as the brunette ran toward the stairwell, Boss lay Kyra's limp and motionless body between Dylan and Shade's cages. As he began to walk away, he noticed Pidge on top of Dylan's cell.

You won't tell him, will you?” he asked, motioning his head toward Dylan. Pidge met his query with a happy trill, as if to assure him that she would indeed keep her beak shut about the situation.

“Excellent,” Boss continued, a dark smile growing on his cold, unforgiving face. “I should be more concerned with your presence here, but I suppose even they need a little cheer once in a while. I don't want them killing themselves; we've done too much work to lose them in such a barbaric manner.”

Boss then walked calmly to the stairwell door, and went through without any further fuss. As his steps clanged against the stairs, the door closed behind him, causing Shade to breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
Pidge cawed uneasily as she eyeballed the Pokémorph, her eyes closing gently as she prepared to take a quick nap.

Meanwhile, Dylan's hair began to form jagged spikes, as if it was being statically charged by an unknown electrical force...

Last edited by Syrynn; 10-15-2009 at 02:47 PM.
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Old 05-28-2009, 04:56 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Chapter Five: Earie Happenings

“Pidge?” Shade uttered with a sense of urgency.

The Pidgey looked over to Shade's cage and nodded. She flew over and landed next to the lock on the front. As she looked back at Dylan quickly, she trilled a couple of low notes to get Shade's attention. “Yes, my friend?”

Shade looked at her with glowing red eyes. He stood up on his four short legs, his body lithe as a Seviper, and small paws that barely looked capable of holding his weight. He was a Pokémorph, one of Boss's most twisted creations. Many of the Pokémorphs were formerly human, and simply injected with the DNA strands of a Pokémon selected based on the individual's personality, traits, and chemical tolerances. Shade was one of the first “morphs” created with two different Pokémon species instead of one. He was a cross between Seviper, one of the most sinister of the serpents, and Absol, the harbinger of ill tidings. His body was thin and serpentine, the Seviper strands causing the Absol legs to be short and compact, much like a Linoone's legs would be.

“Pidge, did you remember what was going on with Dylan when they brought him down here?” Shade queried to the small bird. The tuft of fur near the sickle growth on his right cheek shook slightly with each word. His scythe tail ticked to the left as he awaited Pidge's reply.

“Dylan? Oh, you mean the fire-headed kid.” Pidge nodded and explained, “I heard something about an overdose from the one they called Chell. She said that her co-worker, Kyra, dropped a second needle into Dylan's skin after Chell had injected the first strain. After it punctured the skin, Kyra plunged the second serum, knowing that not doing so would be a waste, as the needle was no longer sterile. I dare say the poor fellow's going to be in hell and back when he transforms.”

Shade glistened a sharp, bloodied fang at Pidge and smiled. “He's been sleeping for about two hours now,” he responded calmly. “If luck holds true, he may sleep through the entire transformation. To be honest, I think this is the first time someone's been double-dosed, so who knows what kind of complications will arise.”

“I hope the kid will be okay,” Pidge chirped. She stared at Dylan, her eyes growing big as she noticed his human ears receding inward. Also, he seemed to be growing some large, yellow, crescent-like ears out of the top of his head, nestled within his fiery red locks. She looked at Dylan's waist, where his prisoner's uniform began to burst at the seams. Pidge squawked with fright as two appendages began to force themselves out of Dylan's skin, filling up with fur that began to frizz up like static. Dylan winced slightly in his sleep as he rolled onto his side, but nothing more escaped his slowly morphing mouth...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Miss Davies, are you sure you want to do this?”

Boss was watching as Chell went to her cubicle on the second floor. She pulled out a tracking bracelet from her desk, and wrapped it around her left wrist. She punched some buttons on her workstation, then watched as the phrase “C4377 T9” appeared on both the monitor and bracelet. She turned to Boss and nodded.

“I'm positive, Boss,” Chell answered. “If I put on this bracelet, you'll be able to identify me as a Team Galactic employee. I refuse to let Kyra's idiocy jeopardize my job status here. Of course, I'm sure I'll be moody during the first few days while I get accustomed to being a Pokémorph, but after that I look forward to continue my services uninterrupted.”

Boss smiled and shook his head. “Miss Davies, you're one insane worker. I can't think of anybody in the history of Team Galactic that has been more dedicated and goal-oriented than you've been this past year. Somehow, it's hard to believe you're only seventeen. You're so much more mature and level-headed than over ninety-five percent of our workforce. No one else would dream of staying here after something like this happened to them. I'm impressed, and that's not an easy task to impress me.”

Chell beamed and turned back to her workstation. “Thank you, sir, but I really need to get this study done about our latest projects, Kyra and Dylan Jones. I'm also looking at the notes for Shade, our most successful dual-Pokémon project to date. Also, there's the case of Pidge, that adorable little tramp of a Pidgey that just flits about with no particular aim in life. It's hard to believe she was so serious as a human.”

Boss patted Chell on the head, much to her delight. He turned away and headed to the elevator, incredulous at the loyalty of his best employee. He pressed the up button, ready to head to his office on the seventh and top floor of the building. How in the name of the Legendaries did I get such a gem of an employee? He looked back at Chell one last time during this final thought, and smiled profusely.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As Dylan's original two legs filled up with similar, statically charged fur, and his two new legs reached the same size as the first two, he began to stir slightly. He ground his teeth in pain as his face formed into a fox-like muzzle, his black nose protruding from the front of a yellow background. White fur pushed out into a mane around his neck, and his four feet scrunched into three-toed paws. He stood up with a start as the last of his original skin broke out into an electrically charged mess, causing yellow fur to jut around his back legs and to fully cover the remaining bare areas of his body. His eyes grew to around triple their original size to fill their newly shaped sockets, with a large ring of blue encompassing his pupils, which now covered eighty percent of each eye.

As Dylan looked at his new body, he screamed with fury, the cage barely able to hold his six-limbed body. From the waist and above, he was an anthropomorphic Jolteon, with fully functional arms, five fingers, and heightened senses. Below the waist, Dylan was a quadruped, what a normal Jolteon would look like, except about a foot taller than usual. He now measured five-foot-ten from head to paws, and his lower body measured four-foot-ten from front to back. He now had four inches of leeway from head to ceiling, and six inches of leeway lengthwise. He was about eighteen inches wide, leaving six inches of open space in that dimension. Instead of having a tail, Dylan's fur jutted out awkwardly over his hindquarters. He ground his teeth some more, releasing a medium charge of electricity straight at the lock of his cage.

“What in the world just happened to me?!” Dylan yelled with a roar. “I'm a monster!” He looked over at Shade and Pidge, who simply stared at each other. They didn't want to touch this one, and to be honest, Dylan couldn't blame them for being skittish about the whole situation...

END OF CHAPTER FIVE

Last edited by Syrynn; 05-28-2009 at 11:57 AM.
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Old 05-28-2009, 08:26 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Hey there. First off, I'm gonna comment on the individual 'chapters', and edit my post at the end of each one.

Second: This is long enough to be one or two chapters. They're really short on their own, and I think it might be better off as two, or possibly even one. If you take a look at other (long-time) stories, you'll notice that they've all got pretty long chapters. Some chapters can even fill up to three posts! (Due to going over the character limit)

Third: I correct stories. I'm gonna do it to yours, too. >:3

Quote:
Originally Posted by Syrynn View Post
Dylan tugged at the collar of his black prisoner's jumpsuit, one size too small for his 5'7" body.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Syrynn View Post
"Hmm... Dylan, I'm not 100% sure,"
Bad idea. You should always, always write out figures in letters. i.e. 'one hundred per cent' and 'five-foot-seven'.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Syrynn View Post
History has forgotten who he was before Galactic got their mitts on him; now we only know him as "Pyrus." The only prior history of Pyrus that is certain is the fact that he was once a human being."

"His species and all other attributes are a mystery to even Galactic officials. They never kept records of anyone they experimented on, just in case the police ever found their hidden laboratory. After the fire was quelled by alert guards, the surviving experiments and Pokémon were moved to a recently refurbished warehouse on the same floor. In the chaos of the moving day, Pyrus fought his way past the guards and into the stairwell."

"Upon weaving his way to the ground floor, he outfoxed the greatest mind of the Galactic force: Cyrus. Disguising himself as a grunt, he was ordered by Cyrus to leave for the day and get some rest, as 'tomorrow our plan will swing into full force.' He willfully obeyed, and upon his exit of the Galactic hideout, no one ever saw him again..."
#1: You don't need those ending quotation marks. If it's the same person, you only need starting quotation marks at the start of each new paragraph.

#2: That: '“Pyrus”' would be better off with single quotation marks, as it gets confusing when you use the same marks for your speaking marks.

There we go! That's all for that 'chapter'.
You're a great writer, and I'm enjoying this so far! :D I don't quite know what's going on just yet, of course, but it certainly drew me in! :D

~Xanthe.
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Old 05-28-2009, 12:08 PM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Thanks for your reply!

I looked at your first corrections, and went ahead and edited out all instances of the numerical errors and unnecessary quotation marks.

I went ahead and made my chapters shorter than usual, as due to this being my first fanfiction ever, I wanted to work in smaller dimensions. I'm thinking that as the story progresses, the chapters will slowly get longer and more complex.

And thanks for calling me a great writer. I don't think I've hit that level yet, but I'm glad you took the time to compliment me. I hope that the later chapters will bring you into the story even more! :3
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Old 05-28-2009, 12:56 PM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

:D No worries! ^^

Ahh, okay. :3 Yeah, a lot of people make the mistake of writing the numbers.

Right, I see. :3 I would read more now, but it's kinda late here. ^^' I can read them tomorrow after school, since it'll be Friday, and hopefully I can give you feedback on them, too! ^^

No worries. :3 It gets easier to pick out writers with talent, and you're one of them. For the following reasons:

1. Your description is very good. Of voices, the characters, the setting, etc. You don't give an excessive amount of detail, but that is, a lot of the time, better and not as boring to read. I, however, try to describe Pokemon and stuff with detail, and sometimes I think I should just stick to simpler stuff. xD

2. Dialogue is great, clear to understand and different between characters.

3. Plot seems good. You're doing well so far. ^^

4. Your grammar and spelling it top notch, with a few things that I mentioned before. Also, the words you choose to include are creative and non repetitive.

5. Use of emotion--well done. ^^

6. Your writing is basically up to my highest standards. xD

Great work, mate. :3 Keep it up! :D
And, lol, I wrote a story in year eight (two years ago) with an evil cat, and her name was Kyrah. xD

~Xanthe.
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Last edited by Graceful_Suicune; 05-28-2009 at 12:59 PM.
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Old 05-29-2009, 04:09 AM
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((Really? You named your cat Kyrah?

Anyway, more words and story.))

Chapter Six: New Line of Feral

“Sir, I have some good news and some bad news.”

Chell adjusted her glasses snugly against her nose as Boss walked by her cubicle. She had just called him down to review her daily notes and go over the plans for the next day. Her words sent a wave of neutrality through Boss's spine; it was as though he knew the day had been as evenly positive as negative. He turned to Chell and smirked softly at her. “Give me the bad news first, so I can fire you more quickly.” This sarcasm was not uncommon with his employees in general, however, Chell was more resilient and knew immediately that Boss was pulling her chain.

“Very funny, sir,” Chell responded flatly. “Anyway, the bad news is that Dylan has yet to transform after eight days with the strains inside his body. The good news, most importantly, is that Kyra Jones is still alive, so we won't have the police coming out here investigating murder or the like.” She peered at her watch hesitantly. It's nine PM, she told herself happily. I'm so glad it's Friday today. I'll have most of tomorrow off, except for my mandatory check-in from two to five PM. Chell looked at Boss and handed him three folders, containing data on Dylan, Shade, and Pidge. She had yet to finish preparing the reports for herself or Kyra, as both of them had just recently been infected with their respective viruses.

“Excellent work as always, Miss Davies.” Boss smiled heartily as he turned away toward the executive elevator on the south wing. “Oh, and Miss Davies,” he said as he peered over his shoulder, “Would you leave the experiments their rations tonight? Mister Rodin had to leave early to attend his father's funeral, so I'm leaving you in charge of that station overnight.”

Damn it all, Chell thought as her smile flattened. There goes my chance to clock out. Ah well, I suppose it's better, since my projected transformation is at around midnight anyway. I suppose I'd rather do it in front of a bunch of other freaks than with my Pokémon back at the house. I doubt Almette would be very happy watching me grow fur, scales, or feathers...

“I'm happy to do so, sir,” she explained with a grin. “You know I'm here to help!”

“Excellent.” With that last reply, Boss stepped into the elevator door. Chell found herself alone in the cubicle again, and walked over to the stairwell door. She opened it, and began to walk down the two flights of stairs...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dylan seethed with a mixture of anger and pain. His eyes narrowed considerably as his ears flattened against the back of his head. He shot yet another bolt of electricity through the bars of his cage, but it only struck the back of the wall above Shade's cell. He breathed heavily as the static charge built up further in his ruffled and jutted fur.

“Get me out of here!” Dylan bellowed to Pidge, who chirped with fright. She had never seen Dylan as temperamental as he was now. Then again, the sudden change to a Pokémorph certainly wasn't a peaceable event. She looked at Shade, who simply shrugged and stared daggers at Dylan.

“Shade, what's gotten into him?” Pidge tweeted almost at a whisper as she flew next to the bars of Shade's cage. “He's scary now with all that voltage!”

Shade rolled his eyes and petted Pidge's head carefully. “Dylan needs to let out some angry energy and get rid of all that dangerous electricity welling up inside him. Right now, he's extremely unstable, and we just need to keep our distance, at least for a while.”

Dylan found himself eyeballing Kyra's limp body with mild concern. “Is she dead?” he queried with a moderate passion setting his tone.

“Unfortunately not, Mister Jones,” Chell's voice rang out from just inside the basement door. “She's going to be unconscious for at least forty-eight hours, but after that she should make a full recovery. Of course, by then she'll be a Pokémorph just like Shade and Pidge out here. Why haven't you transformed yet? Are you that stupid that you don't even know how to be affected by a virus?”

“For your information, Chell,” Dylan began snidely, “I already have transformed into a Pokémorph. Or are you that stupid that you can't even see me in the cage here?”

“Shut up!” Chell barked in a raspy voice. She could tell that her body was changing simply from the way she said those words. “I was coming down here to bring you food, but I think I'll let you starve for a while.” She went around and left a bowl of food next to Pidge, and slipped several handfuls of pellets into Shade's cage. She looked at Dylan with the stare of a killer, and walked into one of the doors in the north corridor. As Chell left, Pidge noticed there was a flowing, cream-colored tail around her waist.

“Where did all that moxie come from, Dylan??” Shade questioned with a new-found sense of awe. “That was just amazing! I didn't know you had that in you!”

Dylan grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. “I... I really don't know, Shade.” It was true; Dylan rarely reacted by yelling or being a smart-mouth. “I'm not even sure that was me saying that.”

Pidge cawed with a quick chortle before flying back over next to Dylan. “You think the Jolteon in you took over there, Dylan?” She wasn't sure that was possible, but didn't want to shut the door on the thought. “You'd better be careful then. I think the Jolteon was also the one snapping off those Thunderbolt attacks all over the place, so you should learn to control your feral side, and fast.”

Shade nodded with conviction. “Pidge is right, my friend. If you let your wild side wield its way with your body, things won't be looking pretty for you in the future.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Boss sat up in his seventh-floor office, looking through the folder information for Pidge. “Interesting... I don't think anyone would have known she was capable of doing this..."

END OF CHAPTER SIX
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Old 05-29-2009, 08:14 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

Okay, I've read three more chapters. I'm a little confused about some things, but I think I'm good. ;P

Chell's not a very good friend. D: Calling Kyra stupid and stuff. :3 And that's totally violence against women! D:< Is he even allowed to treat her like that?!

I'll edit this post with more feedback. :3

~Xanthe.

EDIT: Read it all! I really don't like Chell. I thought she was nice and innocent. Dx
Boss kinda scares me, and I think things are making more sense. xD But if it were me in the cage - not Dylan - I would've been really really frightened that a Pidgey was talking to me! O_o

Anyways, I'm really enjoying this. :P I didn't really understand how Dylan looked, and I'm thinking maybe it's a little like a centaur or something. xD

Keep writing! :D
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Last edited by Graceful_Suicune; 05-29-2009 at 08:44 AM.
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Old 05-29-2009, 10:33 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

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Originally Posted by Graceful_Suicune View Post
Okay, I've read three more chapters. I'm a little confused about some things, but I think I'm good. ;P
We'll see during the review. ;)

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Originally Posted by Graceful_Suicune View Post
Chell's not a very good friend. D: Calling Kyra stupid and stuff. :3 And that's totally violence against women! D:< Is he even allowed to treat her like that?!
No, he's not allowed to treat her like that. Well, at least he shouldn't be. :3

I hope you didn't grow attached to the belief that I'd avoid provoking my readers completely. That's one of the best parts of writing in my opinion.

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EDIT: Read it all! I really don't like Chell. I thought she was nice and innocent. Dx
Then she did a good job of fooling you. She's not getting any nicer anytime soon.

By the way, I don't like Chell either. I don't mean that I hate writing out her actions; in fact, she's one of my favorite characters to develop a personality for. Alas, that's simply the norm for a writer, methinks. Emotions develop for or against a character, and I have to just run with it.

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Boss kinda scares me, and I think things are making more sense. xD
Haha, he's supposed to scare you! :D

Also, that's good that it's all coming full circle into coherence.

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But if it were me in the cage - not Dylan - I would've been really really frightened that a Pidgey was talking to me! O_o
Yes, but you have to remember he's met talking Pokemon before. Besides, even if he hadn't met that Meowth, he kind of had an inkling that Shade wasn't fully human...

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Anyways, I'm really enjoying this. :P
Cool! I'm really surprised that my first fanfiction ever is going so well. :)

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I didn't really understand how Dylan looked, and I'm thinking maybe it's a little like a centaur or something. xD
You've basically nailed the premise. Think of a Jolteon centaur and replace the human half with the upper half of an anthropomorphic Jolteon. I can't draw personally, but I'm hoping that maybe somewhere I'll find someone that can put his new form down into a visual reference.

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Keep writing! :D
You know I will! :D Thanks for your time, and you pretty much did a great job comprehending all of the story thus far. You were so worried... and you did just fine. ;)
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  #12  
Old 05-29-2009, 01:16 PM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

xD No worries! :D I love reading great stories. :3 I often take time out to view different people's ideas and writing capabilities and styles.

And, also, I'm kind of a drawer. :P I could probably have a go. :D If you click on 'A World So Broken' (great story, by the way), I have drawn two pieces of fan art for it. They're both on the front page. :3

But yeah, I see how someone like Chell could be a writer's favourite. Personalities and fun to built up and mould into the right shapes--whether the personalities be evil or good ones. :3

And good! :D I'd love to keep reading. :3

~Xanthe.
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  #13  
Old 05-31-2009, 10:13 PM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

I don't have much to say here, other than being awestruck XD I love describing transformations! They're so much fun! XD

....She had a field day with me >.>

I can't wait for more! This is a very good start for a fan fiction, especially since it's your first. Good job!
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  #14  
Old 06-01-2009, 02:53 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

(Thanks for your comments!

I really appreciate the support you're all showing. :D)


Chapter Seven: Pidge Over Troubled Waters

Kyra lay in her cell, motionless still after ten hours. It wasn't apparent whether she was even breathing still, and Dylan was desperate to find out. His awkward new form was going to make it incredibly hard to go undetected, but deep down, Kyra was still his sister. He was determined to find a way to keep her alive.

“Pidge!” Dylan called out with a slight hiss in his voice. The small bird jumped uneasily and flitted over to see her new ally. She blinked hesitantly and looked back at Shade.

“What do you want, Dylan?” Pidge squawked with a hint of ignorance. It was hard to tell if she cared at all about Kyra's fate, and Dylan was leaning towards a big, fat 'No.' “I was trying to sleep, but obviously you don't care about a woman's beauty.”

“You're not a woman...” Dylan began before he realized what he was saying.

“Burn in hell, you ignorant freak of science!” she crowed indignantly. “Just because I'm a bird, doesn't mean I'm not-”

She couldn't finish that last part, for Dylan had begun to charge his electricity from the beginning of her rant. He shot it dead at her beak; however, Pidge moved at the last possible moment and the Thunderbolt ended up zapping Kyra instead. With her life already on the smallest thread imaginable, Dylan's misfired electricity ended up snipping the final cord of her life. Kyra was dead in her cell, not even the least bit transformed. In a way, Dylan had murdered his own sister. In another, he had saved her from a lifetime of ridicule, racism, and misery. He fired one last bolt into Kyra's gut to ensure that he had really finished her off.

“Damn, Dylan, what was that all about!?” Shade screamed in horror. “You just murdered her!” His eyes narrowed and he sprang at his cage bars as swiftly as a sword strike from the finest of samurai warriors. The cage rocked slightly, but nothing more happened. “Get me out of here!!!!!!” he wailed.

As footsteps pounded upstairs, Pidge fluttered around the room with her beak firmly shut, lest she say something else to offend Dylan's new, frightfully short-fused personality. Dylan heaved heavy breaths as he stared at the charred remains of his sister, small electrical currents still zapping between Kyra's fingers. For a while, nothing was said by anyone. The next two minutes felt like an eternity to all three of the Pokémorphs, with a door slam finally awakening them from the silent trance.

“What in the- oh, for the love of the Legendaries,” a young woman rambled as she saw Kyra's body. She looked at Dylan, sizing up the Jolteon morph from head to paws, and paws to hindquarters. She smiled profusely as she finished.

Pidge seemed creeped out by this new person's appearance. The woman had short, brown hair, barely reaching below the top of her neck. Her eyes were a dark green, hidden behind a monocle on the right side. Her skin was a luscious bronzed tan, and her build was exceptionally slender; she could have easily passed as half-Seviper, given the chance. She wore a pink lab coat, ragged everywhere except the sleeves, which were unusually well-polished. Her lab pants were torn all over, and seemed to barely hang on to her body. She wore black leather boots, reaching about two inches below her knee, with socks right against the kneecap. The boot laces appeared to be from the skin of Pokémon that once inhabited the Galactic Headquarters, but Pidge was unsure.

“What are you doing here?” Dylan finally asked in a courageous move.

The woman looked at Dylan and pulled a notepad from her front left pocket. She looked over some previous notes and nodded softly. “Dylan Jones, correct?” she asked with a sing-song voice. Her vocal cords rang with a pleasant vibration as Dylan found himself immediately at ease.

“Yes, that's me,” Dylan replied, returning the smile. “However, that doesn't tell me what you're here for.” His ears went back against his head, as he suddenly sensed something wrong. No person is this nice. This lady is full of baloney. Pidge seemed to echo his thoughts, as she flew upward to get a better look at the woman's face.

“I'm sorry,” she explained flatly. “My name is Raquel Jordan. I'm here to release you from this cell. I have orders from a 'Mister Anton Jones' that you return to Twinleaf Town immediately.”

Dylan's ears were flat as pancakes as he shook his head. “I really can't do that,” he lamented, looking at Kyra. “Father would never approve of my appearance. I'll cut you a deal, though. I'll at least go see him once... if you let Pidge and Shade go with me.”

Raquel nodded and grabbed a nearby blow torch. She used it to melt the locking bars of Dylan's cage, and watched as Dylan burst through the door angrily. Now that he had more room to stretch, he reared on his hind legs, feeling a pop in his lower back. “Legendaries alive, I needed that,” Dylan burst out with gratitude. “Thanks a ton, ma'am.”

“Sure, Dylan,” Raquel responded as she went to Shade's bars and repeated the process. She nodded to the Pokémorph and looked over at Pidge.

Instead of bursting out, Shade simply pushed the door open with his front right paw and politely bowed his head. “I thank you,” he said politely. No one was sure where that sudden bout of manners came from, but all seemed to agree it was certainly refreshing to behold.

Raquel smiled and led the group to a large, red door labeled For Escape Attempts Only. Pidge looked at the sign for a minute or so, then watched as Raquel pushed the door open. Instantly, alarms pierced the air with screeching calls. More footsteps thumped against the ceiling as Raquel suddenly pierced Pidge with a large rapier. Dylan bolted straight out of the door, with Shade struggling to keep up on such tiny legs. Suddenly, Shade's legs disappeared underneath him, and he slithered along the ground much like a serpent. This made him go much faster than before; though Dylan was long gone by the time Shade made it out of the HQ gates.

Dylan dashed away from the gates and headed south toward Jubilife City. He didn't have time to think about Pidge back at HQ; he simply needed to get through Route 204 as quickly as possible. The way had been infested with trainers, wild Pokémon, and other perils over the past year. Dylan waited as he calculated his path. He would have to do as little battling as possible, as he was still unstable with his attacks in general.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chell was the first to respond to the alarms. Overnight, she had become an Arcanine morph, walking on two legs like a human, yet with many of the Pokémon's traits and looks. She was capable of sprinting at an incredible pace on all fours, so she used this to race down the stairs. She growled loudly as she knew exactly what the alarms were going off for. Stupid Dylan, she thought as she hit the final step at the bottom of the stairwell and headbutted the door open.

Many of the grunts downstairs began to shoot tranquilizer darts at Chell, as they were trained to shoot any and all Pokémorphs that they saw. Chell's speed was too much for the grunts' aim, and she easily avoided every single piece of ammunition.

“What in the world are you doing!?” Chell growled at the grunts. “Get that Jolteon now!” She dashed out of the red door, snarling at the idiocy of her coworkers.

One of the grunts with red hair turned to another with blond hair. “What was that all about?” the blond-haired woman stammered as she adjusted her sleeves slightly. “That wasn't anywhere in my training manual...”

The redhead smiled and nodded. “Yeah, is this part of the test or something? I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing now. I only came here for the money and free month at the apartment complex.”

Raquel smiled and hushed the crowd by raising her index finger. “Everything is fine,” she told the onlookers with confidence. “Miss Davies is going to fetch our runaways. We did get one, however.” She held up the rapier with Pidge's carcass nestled against the hilt. “This little birdie tried to fly away, and now she's flying into our faithful friend's mouth,” Raquel continued. “We will feed this little one to Miss Davies once she returns, with or without our escapees. As for your training... you all failed. All of our Pokémorph captives have their ID bracelet on their back left leg. Chell's was on her front right leg, meaning she is an employee that has accidentally been changed by the incompetence of a former worker.

She walked over to the cage holding Kyra, the body no longer sparking with the crackling current that killed her. “My trainees, this is what happens to you when you disobey our commands and cause injury to a coworker, or worse, infection of such.” Raquel completely ignored that Dylan was the true murderer and spoke with a clear conscience. “Team Galactic tolerates no inaccuracies in our work!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Shade slithered north along Route 204, heading toward the Ravaged Path. He figured the darkness of the cave would assist in his appearance blending into the background. He wondered what Dylan had been thinking about when he had let loose his electricity on Kyra, but he realized that it led to their freedom. Finally, he remembered Pidge, how she had been slain by Raquel. Was Pidge merely a diversion, or was she planning something with Dylan this whole time? How am I going to keep up this fugitive lifestyle? Is Dylan going to be okay? The questions flew through his head like an angry pack of Spearow, harassing his thoughts and leaving him paralyzed with fear...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“You're positive, Miss Jordan?”

Raquel nodded as she entered Boss's seventh-floor office. She had headed there straight after grilling the grunts over their failure. She threw Pidge's body onto a towel, and set the towel on Boss's desk. “I'm sure this is Pidge, sir!” she exclaimed with certainty. “Notice the red on her beak. I've killed Pidge, all right.”

Boss's face twisted into a wide grin. “Wonderfully played, Miss Jordan,” he roared with pleasure. “Letting Shade and Dylan go was a hard decision, but being able to off the famous hero of Verity Lake is a huge blow to the resistance forces. I'll be damned if I let this slip through my hands again...”

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN

Last edited by Syrynn; 06-01-2009 at 11:39 AM.
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  #15  
Old 06-01-2009, 08:43 AM
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Default Re: Feral Game (PG-13)

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“Just because I'm a bird doesn't mean I'm not-”
I would put a comma after 'bird'.

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She threw Pidge's body onto a towel, and set the towel on Boss's desk.
Because the word ends with an 's', you don't need the extra 's' after the apostrophe.

Anyway, I can't believe both Kyra and Pidge DIED!!!! DDDD: WHYY?!?! And I didn't know that Pidge was that harsh--yelling at Dylan like that. x3

By the way, I think you need a little more emotion. I would be shocked and horrified to have accidentally murdered my sister, and be desperate to escape. I would also be horrified to see Pidge be murdered like that, too. :O

Good chapter, but it's getting a little, like...nobody seems to value lives anymore.

~Xanthe.
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