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Post by Cavespider_17 on Mar 29, 2018 1:13:38 GMT
{Summary}
When Marsten Hall is set alight by a wild Charizard James's problems have only just started. Trapped on the island of Coltar, while living in an occupied segment of the north, he has to come to terms with what happened. Fourteen year old James and his friends start to cause trouble and soon find themselves part of something they didn't plan to be...
{Warnings - Read if Sensitive}
☾ Darker themes touched upon (such as slavery, discrimination etc)
☾ Death
☾ Fear
☾ Mild romance
☾ Mild violence/bloodshed
☾ Psychological themes touched upon
☾ This story is also currently being updated on Wattpad
{Key}
NARRATOR IS SPEAKING OUT OF CONTEXT TO THE STORY
STONE IS SPEAKING
ᛰ
"An aura as unpure as yours...
should never even step into the void,"
- Unknown, 1579, Kishnar Tower
ᛰ
Part 1
Date: 24/04/88“The evening of the 24th of April appeared to have come around quickly this year, due to the tensions within Coltar. The half-moon glowed a creamy yellow, leaving its bewitching light to shine over the fields surrounding the small village of Marsten, in the north of the island of Coltar. The half-moon was significant to many who lived and were trapped on the island. It was considered a symbol of a half started cycle, half granted wishes... to be more accurate, the half-moon represented lies. Many had tried over the years to leave the island, but escaping these lies was impossible and illegal, as all Coltese citizens know. Those who attempted a sea escape were doomed to fail, a job fulfilled by the island's Guardians. Many drowned, were mauled or arrested before managing to set sail. As for those who tried to fly away using their Pokémon... many were killed by the electrical currents during storms. Others were shot down by an electro-ball attack. The thought of an outside world beyond the Abyss scared the bravest of Coltese men. The crowds joining in at Marsten Hall this year was much larger than usual. Members of the Northern and Southern Guard – the Lords - filled one’s eyes with their clashing green and midnight blue uniforms, and cold glares towards one another. This year Marsten Hall was not just to play host to the ball, but to something much bigger. It was to play host to negotiations between two of the great powers of the island. The current ruler of the entirety of the island, Gere Filktas, was not interested in the tensions between the two Elite Lords who ruled the North and the South. If they were fighting each other they were in no position to challenge him so he would be able to maintain his strength for a far greater challenger if one ever emerged. Therefore, under the advice of the Head of the Master Guard, the two Elite Lords agreed to discuss their demands. The location of Marsten was key to the negotiations - it was considered a neutral ground. The presence of the Lords at the ball was a new experience for the people of Coltar. This also led to the class system appearing in a more rigid fashion. Only those with an invitation were welcomed inside the hall. The elites consisted of its own hierarchy. The Master sat above all, with his Captain and the Rulers below. The Young Guard, or trainee Guard, were the final class within the elites. Children as young as three years old would be ripped from their families with their Pokémon partner to train alongside the Young Guard providing they filled the requirements.
Coltar was a brutal place. It remains a brutal place.James scuttled past the old stone columns and muddied concrete. The concrete was beginning to look sandy, as if it was starting to fall away. He was headed towards the courtroom window to get a glimpse of Igor Rett's portrait. He peered inside the window to see the door wide open. He could see the bland lobby, and upon the walls were metal chains. The lobby was previously where the prisoners were left to rot before carrying out their sentences or being summoned to court. The metal chains were rusted; some were bloodstained, others were not. They were left hanging to instil fear into those who planned to escape the control of the Elite Lords. James caught a glimpse of the purple carpet. It was worn down and dirty. No matter how many times it had been washed through and through, the dirt remained. Purple was the national colour of Coltar before the divisions – the whole island under one flag. Something James couldn’t imagine being real, in a world of the political, religious and weather diversity between the North and South. James stopped daydreaming and started to scan the courtroom. It was much more impressive than the lobby. The walls were a dusted stone. The floors were a glossed dark wooden set, plank after plank laid horizontally. There were no seats in the room, other than for the judge in sitting. The judge would sit in dock above the whole of the court. Behind the judge’s dock was the grand portrait of Igor Rett. His pale white face was war torn. He looked beyond stern, as if he had wicked thoughts blooming in the back of his mind. Despite this, he also seemed to feel some form of safety and comfort to know he was watching over the citizens of Coltar. He was rather short in his portrait, but then again he was sitting at the judge's dock. His Pokémon was one that no one had claimed to have seen in many years. No one knew its name. Its paws were black and its body blue. Like Igor, its face was stern, and paternal, but its colours made it seem surreal, as if it was a myth. James had seen what he had wanted to see, so his next mission was to see Lord Madison – his ruler, his hero. He tiptoed around the building towards the ballroom. The ballroom was by far the grandest of all the rooms. The long purple curtains draped over the wide, tall windows. The window frames were painted gold on the inside but maintained their stone frame on the outside. The orchestra inside was playing the anthem of the island of Coltar. Many of the band were playing the Ukuru. An Ukuru was an instrument only affordable to those among the middle class or higher. It was crafted from the bones of a Lairon, cut and curved into a hypnotic spiral. The mouth piece was created from the melted coat of an Aron. The band members who played the Ukuru had to blow into the spiralled metal mouth piece and bend the bone of the main frame in order to change the notes being played. Other instruments being played in the band were mainly variants of the banjo. A banjo was considered a poor man's instrument in Coltar. The music that filled the room was so beautiful it made the tensions between the North and South seem so far away. James looked along the floor. It was a dark wooden patterned floorboard in a diamond shape from the centre outwards. It was glossed, so shiny it appeared to have smiled back at those who looked into it. His eyes then snapped up to the far wall. He immediately noticed the portrait hanging on the wall. At the helm of the ballroom hung the portrait of the historic ruler Rustok Nambi and his Gardevoir partner. His brown skin looked rough and cut. His ocean blue eyes looked sternly at anyone who gazed upon him. He had struck a pose in which he stood in wonder against a forest background. James could see the Ariados and Galvantula lurking behind him. It was terrifying to think that every single ruler in Coltar had a portrait inside of both the Elite Zone castle and Marsten Hall. Nambi's portrait lay a shadow on all the others in the room.
Part 2
James's carmine shoulder length hair kept falling in front of his wide Venetian red eyes. He was rather average in terms of height for a boy his age born in the Northern territory. To see more of the dance he had to start tiptoeing, desperately struggling to see inside the ballroom. His ghost white shirt was now coated in a sandy dust from the degrading concrete. He was wearing a russet blazer with only three buttons. It was considered to be not very stylish to have it done up, not that James really cared much for style. He could see an orange Chandelure floating around inside the room. Its flames were so wonderfully warm. It looked happy. All the other Chandelure were purple, so for an orange one to even be allowed to light the hall was a miracle in itself. James didn't understand the prejudice against the orange Chandelure that are found. All he knew was they were rather uncommon. Just like Okta, they were special. He strained to see further into the hall. He wanted to see Elite Lord Madison, ruler of the North. The man he wanted to be. Instead, James could only see the back of the composer of the band and his Gastrodon. His hair was snow white, short and braided. He was blocking the view of nearly everything inside. The rest of the view inside was being blocked by his yellow Gastrodon, who was happily squelching along to the music. James could hear the music from the window. He sighed as he listened while his eyes flicked around, trying to see beyond the back of the composer. James could hear something from behind him. His ears defocused from the music. He could hear footsteps. He shuffled around the corner to his left and slammed his back against the wall. An adrenaline rush was the last thing he needed right now. He held his breath and reached down with his right hand to his pocket on his trousers. Okta was there. She was always ready to battle as was he, he convinced himself. He turned the corner. Horror filled his face. Two men in a midnight blue uniform stood in front of him. Both were ready to send out their Pokémon. They weren't just men. They were members of the Southern Elite Guard. James's heart started to race from fear. He had been caught red handed peering into the ball, when the law had forbidden him from doing such a thing. The man on the left was the taller of the two. He smirked and rolled his poké ball behind James. The Machamp that had resided inside was now behind him. Its large hands gripped James's shoulders. He couldn't escape. The member of the Elite Guard on the right was still a giant to James. He peered down. His hat was in his left hand. He drew his long sword with his right as James tremored with fear. “Your Onix is very dirty. You should clean it more. Or maybe you Northern children are too irresponsible to keep a Pokémon? Maybe I should take it,” he spoke softly, as if he was trying not to be so intimidating. He shook the Poké ball and waved it above James’s head, as he returned his Machamp. “You have ten seconds to get out of my sight.” James didn't need to be told twice, and he grabbed Okta from the man’s hand. He turned to run back down the hill and was gently prodded by the shorter man’s sword. James ran as fast as he could back towards his friends who were waiting for him next to the cobblestone path up to the hall. There was a grass strip there, and at the end of it was a tree under which they waited. Andrew Takui, the youngest of the group, was sitting furthest away. He was feeding his Deino, Nutkio, a nice round and plump Oran berry. He noticed James approaching, and stood up with a spring in his step. He pulled his long cyan-grey shaded hair back enough so he could see. As he stepped forward to greet James he looked down into the boy’s red eyes with his green ones. Lioa who was sitting to Andrew's left and smirked at James’s somewhat speedy arrival. His Timburr, Ruskuo, was tossing a small log in the air for amusement. Lioa had only just turned thirteen and he was proud of that fact. He strongly believed soon he could join his father and fight the South. His light beige skin was ever so slightly darker than that of his brother and clashed with the moonlight, making his smirk look darker than he had intended. His shorter cyan hair was no use at hiding his green eyes, which were filled with mischief. He shunted James over onto his back playfully. Kitiku Bryson jumped out of his skin at the sound of his best friend colliding with the ground, despite sitting quietly on the edge of the grass. His Klink called Rusto whizzed around him while he thought. His skin was the fairest of the group and burnt easily in the tropical Northern heat. His hair was almost jet black. It was long enough to cover his eyes, but not quite as long as James's shoulder length hair. His eyes were an ash-grey. When looking into his eyes James always saw his hopelessness. Kitiku didn't trust the world around him. His father was constantly disappointed in him for being “defective” due to his massive height and dislike of fighting. In the north his height made many consider him to be a freak – someone who is broken – someone who is defective. This was a common reaction to abnormalities in children and adults in Coltar at this time. Nowadays it is more accepted. Coltar was not used to diversity and certainly didn't know how to cope with it. It was rather cut off from the rest of the world. Off-islanders who had crashed or were shipwrecked on the island were treated with immediate suspicion and were often thrown in prison for many years in case they carried disease, wanted to overthrow the Lords, or worse. Many medical ideas had crept through to the island, but many more did not. However, I wander off topic. Back to the reason why what will happen in three days from now will...
James felt belittled due to his run in with the Lords, however, he was glad his friends were pleased to see him back from his excursion. “What was it like up there? Did you see Lord Elite Madison?” Lioa looked quizzical. His mouth turned into a slight smile. “What was he like? I bet he was amazing to watch. I bet he put the fear of Darkrai into those ‘Suska Garta’.” “I didn't see much,” James replied disappointed. He slumped next to Kitiku and Lioa copied. “Before I could investigate further two of your ‘Suska Garta’ turned up and tried to intimidate me. Those stupid members of the Southern Elite Guard. I showed them.” “Did not. I bet you came back out of fear!” James gulped at Lioa's accusation. It was true. He did come back afraid, but... “They aren't all bad. You can't just class all Southern Elite Guards as bad people just because they protect a Lord you don't like,” Kitiku whispered. “They are merciless. They would have killed me if I didn't beat them. Remember? What I did was technically illegal,” he smiled. “Don't worry Lioa, we will see Lord Madison defeat the South. He would never sign such a weak negotiation. Okta and I are counting on it. One day, she and I will be the greatest team to grace this world. All twenty-three thousand people in this world will see the rise of James Spitz and Okta! We will win every tournament we compete in!” He waved his arms as he spoke with excitement. Okta was curled up in her capsule. Her long rock body was a golden colour. She was special and James knew it. Her horn on the top of her head was cut so perfectly. She was his Onix and he wanted the whole world to know it. “Besides,” James went to finish his speech, “Cresselia will bless my household so that--” “Please, Cresselia isn't real,” Lioa snapped. “Besides, Darkrai will bless my household. I will be better than you. Darkrai, after all, is real.” “No it isn't. Cresselia is real,” James shouted back as the argument brewed. “Darkrai!” Lioa shunted against James forcefully. James was nearly knocked over but caught himself. “Cresselia!” James shouted back, making Lioa spit at him. Lioa angrily pushed James over onto his back and then shouted even louder, “Darkrai!”
Part 3
Kitiku started to shuffle and look stressed by the fighting. His household was under the grouping that believed in Cresselia. He didn't want to be cursed to nothingness forever after his time was over. James and Lioa's attention diverted to him. They realised they may have caused his discomfort. “Hey Kitiku. Are you okay? Why don't we go watch the outside Chandelure perform with their masters from the roof tops?” Lioa smiled at him. Kitiku's breathing started to slow down a little. He pondered the thought for a moment or so before nodding in agreement. “Last one on the roof has to ask a Southern Elite Guard for a bedtime kiss!” Lioa laughed. The drainpipes couldn't support more than one person at a time, so it really was everyone for themselves. Lioa started to scramble up the pipe first. Kitiku's height was going to work in his favour, as he grabbed the second nearest pipe attached to the degrading old houses. He pulled himself up towards the roof much faster than Lioa. Andrew and James ran towards the same drainpipe. As James reached for it Ruskuo threw a small rock at James and hit him in the stomach. James was knocked over into the mud. Lioa laughed louder, “James guess what? You lose!” “Where is that little runt?” A voice called out into the street. James scrambled into the narrow pathway between two of the houses. A shiver crept down his spine. Every rough click of that voice caused a memory to rearise from the deepest darkest depths of his mind. The aggressive voice was out to get him. “James was lurking around the entrance earlier. He is probably already inside,” James's mother replied. “Then let's enjoy the party,” James's step-father responded. James could see them from where he was standing. His mother had combed her golden hair into a nice bun. Her fair skin was smooth. She would always give James a hug when he cried or felt lonely, or at least he had convinced himself that. Hanson on the other hand was a different story. He failed to adopt James into the family once he married Carla, nor did he throw James out of the household-which was common in Coltese culture. He disliked James. He let James know regularly this was the case. “James, you lost, you have to do the loser's thing. Once you have done it we will let you on the roof to watch the show too,” Lioa teased. “Yeah James!” Andrew echoed in an irritating way. James clenched his fist angrily. He had lost because of that monster. “Fine. Just fine.” James stormed back up the hill in a rage. Taking Okta out of his pocket and cuddling her Poké ball he blurted out, “That's the last time we ever lose to anyone, Okta! We will be the greatest, I promise! Then no one will make fun of you for your golden colour. You are perfect. Hey, maybe one day we could go explore beyond Coltar! The Elite Lords always say we can't leave the island… why would they do that if we are the only people in this world?” James looked down and kicked a rock. He stubbed his toe in the process. He grit his teeth and continued to rant. “I want to see more than what I am told I can see...” The rock had hit something, something that made a grunt when it did. James looked up into the eyes of a tall man. He rapidly became anxious. The tall shady figure shunted him onto the floor with considerable force. He drew his capsule. A Garchomp emerged from inside. Its eyes were a burning red and it looked ready to destroy whatever crossed its path. A loud roar came from behind the shady figure. It wasn't a Pokémon roar though. The figure appeared to be glowing an orange shade. The figure turned and James rose. The once grand Marsten Hall was on fire. A second roar echoed. This one was a Pokémon. A Charizard with scorching red wings flew up through the ceiling. James was confused for a moment, but quickly made sense of the situation. The figure in front of him had vanished. This, in James's mind, could mean only one thing – that man, that Southern Elite Guard, had started this fire with Charizard to kill Elite Lord Madison. All the Elite Guards were desperate to rescue those inside, especially because Lord Madison wasn't inside. James knew this to be true. Lord Madison was standing five metres in front of him in a face-off with Lord Piscar. He couldn't see them very well through the smoke, only making out their silhouettes and hearing their voices. “This is a new low, even for you,” the first said. He had no accent, and his voice was smooth and rather deep. To James this was almost proof this was Lord Madison speaking. “You are nothing more than a mass murdering psychopath.” The screams of those inside were crawling through the air. James imagined the souls of the Distortion World desperately grabbing onto whomever they could with their mouths wide open, screaming. “You think I am responsible for this? You are a disgrace to your people, and to mine,” the second voice responded. It was coarse and higher than the previous one. James paused. This voice had no accent either. Perhaps this was his Captain of the Elite Guard. No, it was impossible, James thought. One of these had to be Madison. The other had to be the sworn enemy of the North and mass murderer Lord Piscar. The wind was starting to pick up. The tensions were high, James could tell. “Negotiations are over. You brought this upon yourself.” A silhouette of a Pokémon James had never seen before appeared amongst the smoke. A second Pokémon, Aggron, appeared as another silhouette. Rain started to fall and became a storm faster than James had ever seen before. A sudden dizzying flash followed! James was blinded by the light. Darkness followed. He felt as if death was creeping up on him and was ready to take his soul to the world which Cresselia watched over. He heard a thunderclap, and then... nothingness. He was dead, he feared… but if he was dead how come he could still feel the squelchy mud with his hands? How could he feel the vibrations of the earth from the battle raging between the two Elite Lords not five metres away? He couldn't risk sending out Okta to help Lord Madison. He couldn't even see where he himself was, let alone his Lordship. He didn't want to risk squishing either of them. A hand seized his arm and pulled him up. Someone was helping him. After a few more moments his eyes began to recover. He could see but only in tunnel vision and even then it was blurred. His hearing was still not back. Before James could react, a wave of energy was emitted from somewhere. It coursed through him and his rescuer and nearly everyone around him. They all dropped to the floor, unconscious. James wasn't however, he could see everything, but now he couldn't move. His body felt like it was being sat on by a thousand Snorlax. He quickly came to the conclusion it was the sound that had rendered many people unconscious along with the wave of energy. A few of the Elite Guard of each side were standing. The Charizard was still flying in a rage. The Elite Lords were also standing. They were not fighting anymore. The Aggron looked frustrated by this. One of the Elite Lords turned his back to the other and walked away. The Charizard was now flying away into the distance. James’s hearing started to return. He was unsure what he just had witnessed, but he knew one thing for sure: Hanson Rei and Carla Spitz were almost certainly inside when that fire was started. The worst case scenario was his step-father had survived, but his mother had not.
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Mar 30, 2018 16:10:48 GMT
This is interesting. Clearly you've created a huge amount of lore and history for this setting, which is really cool – I definitely get the impression of a place with a past. There are territorial divisions, politics, power struggles – even a symbology of colours, which, I don't know how many fictional settings I can even say that about! But – and it's kind of a big but – explaining all of this for about 1800 words before the story actually starts isn't the best way to communicate this. A massive wall of just pure data, without any narrative or character to break it up, is kind of off-putting, and it's quite difficult for a reader to get through. Then, when the story proper does begin, every character gets described in minute detail as they get introduced, and it's a lot more information than a reader can actually handle – there's not enough space for the story itself to shine through and grab the attention.
Which is a shame, because I think the story really does show a lot of promise! I really love some of the little details it's got to it – the conductor's gastrodon squelching in time to the music, the sense of old habits and rituals among the kids, the way the chandelure and litwick are trained to be part of the big display. All of these are great touches that add a lot of life and colour to the world And I also have to say that I'm fascinated by the way you've chosen to narrate this. You open the story with a quotation mark, which seems strange at the time but which, as the reader continues, they forget about – until the narrator suddenly mentions that they're wandering off-topic, at which point the reader very abruptly becomes aware that this whole thing is being told to them by some unknown person whose intentions are completely mysterious. Then we go straight back to what feels like a standard third-person omniscient narrative, and the reader forgets again, until the next clue. Who is speaking? What kind of person are they and what does that mean for their trustworthiness, their stake in the narrative? I don't know yet, and it's kind of great. I think the only other thing I've read that makes use of this kind of narrator is Nabokov's Pnin, which pulls off a similar trick to great effect. Like I said, I find this really interesting, and I'm eager to see how you plan to develop it in future, especially since this narrator clearly knows much more about what's going on than any of the characters who feature in the story as characters, if that makes sense.
But yeah, the sheer amount of information here is really difficult to deal with. Much of it is unnecessary, too – readers don't need to know everything about a character's appearance; one or two details is perfectly sufficient for them to fill in all the gaps in their head, and it's possible to create very real-seeming characters who never get any physical description at all. Describing the exact method by which someone's buttons are attached to their blazer is definitely more detail than is necessary – as is describing characters like the guards who only feature in the story for a couple of paragraphs. Some of this information can be added in later as it becomes relevant – the classic example is of mentioning hair colour by having someone brush their hair out of their eyes or whatever – but some can just be cut, and the story won't suffer at all. As for the worldbuilding information, I'd recommend something similar: James obviously now has to make his own way through this world, and introducing each piece of information about that world to the reader as and when it becomes relevant to his journey might be a good way of pacing it out a bit better.
Finally, here are a few other little things – either typos or grammar issues that I noticed as I read through.
There's quite a lot of these odd hyphens dotted throughout this passage; I'm not sure why that might be. Since there's no reason to have them, they should probably be cut out.
“The” doesn't need to be capitalised – a dialogue attribution (that is, a “she said” or similar) following a line of dialogue needs no capital letter.
Punctuation for a line of dialogue is always all within the quotation marks, so the full stop needs to be on the other side of that quotation mark there.
That should be a full stop after yourself – the only kind of sentence you can connect with dialogue with a comma like that is an attribution.
So yeah – an interesting start, I think, and one with a lot of promise: you've sketched out this really cool world, within which Bad Things are clearly happening (in which James is no doubt going to get mixed up), and it'll be interesting to see how you build on all that. It would just take a little redistribution of information to polish it up a bit. I look forward to seeing what you've got in store for us next!
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Post by Ambyssin on Apr 15, 2018 1:13:57 GMT
It has been many, many years since I've taken any sort of history class. But the introduction you paint in the first part really brings to mind some of the political dynasties most active in Europe during, uh, the 1500s-1700s, I suppose. Marsten Hall has this very guilded feel to all of it, but the backdrop of a rigid class sytem that's strongly enforced by these royal guards, coupled with warring familial factions taints that eloquent description. Taints in a good way, I should clarfiy. *nervous laugh*
I have to echo oyster's comments that, as far as exposition goes, there's far too much of it dumped onto me as the reader at once. As an example, you might've been better served trying to incorporate the kids' attributes into the story proper rather than just dropping a large chunk of text to give each one of them a description. If you want to call attention to the fact that one of the kids is stupid tall, have them crane down to look at one of the other kids rather than just saying how tall they are. Really, it was the descriptions of all the kids that stuck out as the biggest issue for me. Because so many little details were pushed forward at once, everything blended together. Instead of being able to tell each kid apart, they became identical and I wound up confusing myself. What also makes it strange is that the narrator has some occassional bits of conversational tone. I think I even saw a "But I digress" in the actual narration, which is something I'm not sure you should actually be doing if you're not going for a 3rd person omniscient narrator.
In fact, the 3rd part is probably my favorite, because everything crashes and burns (literally) and your descriptions become a lot more naturally woven into the prose. For example, using the climbing contest to show off Kitiku's height is a much more natural way to go about it than exposition, and makes me as the reader more likely to remember. And the actual burning of the big old courthouse is pretty dynamic. Things happen very rapid-fire, but I still have a pretty clear mental picture of what's happening.
I should end this with the disclaimer that this was done for the Review Game. So, whether you choose to pay any attenion to my crazy rambling is up to you. XP
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Apr 27, 2018 20:59:48 GMT
ᚡ "No matter where we are, there is always one thing that is certain, I am better than you, Lioa!" - James Spitz, 1985, Fehahra ᚡ
Part 1
Date 15/06/1989Fehahra was beautiful in the summer. It was so peaceful before the incident at Marsten Hall. The wind was always blowing through the greenery. It waved to the trees as it blew past. The berries on the trees were starting to ripen. They were plump and looked so delicious it was impossible not to pick one. As the boys crept past the bushes by the lake Lioa couldn’t help but take a few. The creamy full-moon was only four days away. There were very few street Lampent, hovering above the ground at two metres up. Their black body was smooth. Their oval face was bright with their beady yellow eyes with no pupils inside. A purple flame which danced ran through their oval face. The cobble paving in Fehahra was old and dusty. It was a grey sandy colour, and it looked cold. The houses they hovered by were small for the most part, like most of the homes in Fehahra. They were stone bricked and somewhat claustrophobic. The town was pretty flat. There were a few ways into Fehahra, most notably the wooden bridge over the waterfall which was connected to the river that flowed through the town. The wooden bridge was tied together using rope over a sheer and sickly drop, with the running water being murky and green. Andrew squinted his eyes to see the spire of the house of worship for those who follow Cresselia and Darkrai alike. It was situated near the northern edge of Fehahra at the top of the one hill. It stood as a grand building with four massive twisty pillars cut out of Wailord bones, engraved with glorious patterns and painted a quartz-white. Only when you pushed past the light wooden doors could you see the true beauty of the building. The walls were painted in colours of old. Their patterns were intrinsic to those of either household. In the middle of it, all stood a solid silver statue of what Giratina was rumoured to look like. It had a face with a sharp beak and four stumpy legs. Upon its stumpy legs, its bug-like body rested before it strained up in the form of a neck to hold its massive head. The floor on which the statue stood was a cream concrete. Those with the poorest of backgrounds would sit at the back to avoid contact with those who were wealthier. The richest would sit closest to the stage. The stage was made from carved wood. Spirals and carved images of the fiercest Pokémon battles lay on the edges. Every plank of wood was cut into a jigsaw shape and joined in perfect harmony with one another to illustrate the importance of unity in the North. The walls were covered by plain wooden planks to symbolise the simplicity of the average life of a Northern citizen. Crouched by the door of one of the shops, more central to the town, in the dark, fourteen-year-old James Spitz was planning another one of his hair-brained schemes. Thirteen-year-old Kitiku Bryson was next to him. His ice-white shirt was glowing softly in the moonlight. "James... why did I let you talk me into this?" He whispered. His left hand was resting against the sandy brick wall by the window. He feared the worst. Breaking the rules, to him, was obviously never going to end well. "If we get caught we will be hauled up in front of Charleston. That would be so... so bad... I mean I don't want to be arrested or thrown in jail or given a warning and have a mark against my name in my file... or executed or thrown in jail", he was sweating. The tropical heat wasn't the reason for it. He was so nervous. "It is okay for you to sneak around undetected. You are of normal height." "Can you just shut up? Seriously, you can't stop complaining about jail or getting arrested or being executed. You can't even shut up for a few minutes while I am thinking!" James whisper-shouted. He tugged down on his brown blazer. "You know what? Why don't we just hand ourselves in? I have Sutton's number... we just have to shout "hey moron" and he will come running. Handing ourselves is the right thing to do, right? It isn't as if these people are monsters who have invaded our home and set a wild Charizard loose at Marsten Hall that killed my mother and ate your brother and then caused this entire conflict in which Mr Takui died fighting for us!" James hissed. His friends looked at him. He had let his mask slip. Usually, he would conceal his feelings of sadness to appear strong-willed in the eyes of others. "Okay, so here is the plan... Kitiku, you and Rusto will open the electronic door which those Southern soldiers supplied. Lioa and Ruskuo you will break open the ration crates. We are going to need all the strength of that Gurdurr of yours tonight! Andrew and Nutkio will be keeping watch. Any sign of anyone we beat them in battle and then run away as soon as possible. Okta and I will be ready to deal with any trouble," he smirked at the thought of being victorious. "James? Aren't you scared? I am not scared. We are on our last warning, though. Charleston, she cannot execute us. She doesn't have the power to... but the Elite Guards can. I am not scared. I just don't know if we should keep doing this. I miss my father just like you miss your mother and how Kitiku misses his brother... but honestly, can we really afford to risk being caught again?" Lioa was huddled behind Andrew and Kitiku. His shirt was torn at the top and his trousers were muddy. He brushed the hair from his face and then spoke, "How do you even plan on stopping us from getting caught again?" "I told you we will battle." A determined look crossed James's face. His teeth were gritted together. "This time, it will be different. This time we will win. Besides, we won't get caught and after the festival, I'll break into the offices and replace our records of so-called bad behaviour with blank sheets." James, Andrew and Lioa were often unsuccessful in their mischief-making endeavours to the point where James had already had to do this thrice already. Charleston was starting to get suspicious, but her poor memory and high stress levels contributed to her ignoring the nagging thoughts in the back of her mind telling her she had done this before.
"I never get in these situations. I don't get in these situations because I don't break the rules... I don't even know why I am here. My father will kill me if he ever finds out. He will do worse to you, James." Kitiku tried to back himself up. "I am going home. I am not getting arrested because of you." His voice was squeaking in places as he spoke. "I really don't want to die." Lioa shunted his friend forward. His eyes narrowed until his green eyes were black in the darkness. "I am just scared..." He sighed. "I will open the door and then I'm sneaking home before my father finds out." James nodded, somewhat disappointed with his friend's reaction. "After you get home you better cover for me." James sighed. After losing his mother and step-father at Marsten Hall, Tak Bryson had offered sanctuary to him. James quickly learned that living under the Bryson household was hard. They were dirt poor. Tak Bryson, once a glorified and well-decorated member of the Northern Elite Guard was now a simple labourer. His ocean blue eyes seemed tired and full of sorrow, while his hair was jet black hair was smooth and combed flat. It was apparent Kitiku had inherited his hair colour from his father. Tak had stubble, but no beard and always attempted to look as presentable as possible. He worked ridiculously long hours, working every day without a break 6:30 am until 8:30 pm. He claimed to only have one Pokémon, Oosho the Octillery. He feared his old profession would risk his family's safety if ever the South should come. And come they did. He turned to the bottle. He was often sober despite the vast quantities he would drink. His old injuries did not help his mood. He was convinced that if he was still a member of the Northern Elite Guard, he could have defended Fehahra town. As it was, his injuries had forced his retirement. He had obtained them thirteen years before in a bloody battle with a Southern Guard. He and Oosho had fought bravely and were winning the fight. He never stated what caused the battle. Oosho was so precise with his hydro pump and the rain dance he would use would whip up a powerful storm. Whoever he had fought through was prepared for that. In the end, Tak did win the battle but at a cost. The Elite Guard he had fought and driven a short-hand sword into his left shoulder, and his Houndoom had chomped down on the wound as soon as the blade and been removed, just to reinforce the damage. The burn was agonising. Tak had cut the skin off where the burn wound was seeping through. The blade wound though was still prominent. Tak often took his feeling of devastation out on his youngest and now only son. He was incredibly harsh when assessing Kitiku's performance. Often, he referred to his shy, over-tall son as being broken or defective. After losing his eldest son – Pierre Tak Bryson – at Marsten Hall to the Charizard, he was even more sceptical about losing his second. "Kitiku, do you trust me?" James asked. "I think so..." He whispered. "Let's just get in, get out, get home and hope my father doesn't notice. Rusto can you shoot an electrical signal along the cables using charge? That was we can release the locking mechanism." His hands were shaking as he released his Klink, who whizzed around and made a sound similar to chirping. It had never been so excited at the prospect of being a rogue in the night. It wound up its small stubby body and started sparking low electric charges into the ends of the copper wires that were powering the door. The boys then waited patiently for the electric charge to pulse through the wires into the locking mechanism. Their hearts beating faster for every second they waited. The door clicked open. James shunted into it, making it budge just a little; enough to fit through. "I'm going home now. Let's just pray to Cresselia my father doesn't find out. I don't want to be caught. I certainly don't want to die." Kitiku slipped out of the queue that had formed and started to dart around. He was very conspicuous, a clear novice at being out after hours. Rusto was pretending to be some sort of super-spy as he followed Kitiku. He whizzed around spectacularly. James squeezed his skinny body through the tiny gap he had created. Lioa, who had a slightly bigger build, had to give an additional shove to the door before being able to squeeze through. "Okay, we are in." James puffed a sigh of relief, looking at the opened up store, the dull grey walls looked as if they were closing in and littered with Spinarak webs. The tenants were away for the week. Lioa plodded onto the creaky wooden floorboards. There was a product island in the middle. It was laced with all sorts of food goodies. However, the golden meats that were available on the shop floor were nothing in comparison to the crates. James knew the boxes were full of fresh berries which were perfectly ripe. His mouth watered just imagining their bitter taste. He also envisaged the tender, full Qwilfish. Such a delicious dish. His stomach rumbled as he crept towards the window. He knelt down on the floor before giving a signal to Lioa. "Four-Seven-Two-Two-Seven," he whispered. Lioa nodded. He released his Gurdurr from its poké ball. It bubbled out its battle cry as it thudded onto the floor. The shelves shook, and the door wire cracked as the window shattered. Broken glass burst into all directions making James cover his face with his hands. He then looked around. He wasn't bleeding. The glass shimmered in its shards on the floor. "Did you have to do that?" James hissed. "Hurry up and break those crates!" Lioa nodded. He raised his left arm and pointed at the crates before giving a whispered command to Ruskuo. Ruskuo thumped across the floor, making glass shards crack under his feet. The floorboards squealed a creak in agony as Ruskuo continued to swing angrily at the wooden crates. The oak lid was ripped off, but the container had nothing inside. James looked at Lioa. He had figured out what had just happened. He looked concerned. "This was a trap. That's not good. Sutton is probably on his way here right now. If we are lucky it will be Sutton... if we aren't it will be Charleston." Lioa looked worryingly back at James. "Did you wipe our records?" Lioa asked in a hurry. "I told you I would do it after the festival...” James hissed. "So no matter what happens... if we are caught that is... the Southern Guard will have us..." Lioa gulped. "Andrew! Any sign of Sutton?" "Not yet," James answered, creeping upstairs. The wooden stairs creaked and cracked with every step he took. He was nearly at the top of the stairs. The crooked bannister on his left was starting to shake. He took the penultimate step. Crack. The step broke and he slipped.
Part 2
The step wasn't a step at all. It was a safe wooden box. It had been concealed in plain sight.
"Lioa...." James heard, turning around and went to leave. Something stopped him. Perhaps it was curiosity. He couldn't leave without looking inside the safe box. What harm could it do? He pondered before crawling back towards it. He peered inside. The tatty wooden safe box had a few photos in, a couple of Colkara which he pocketed and something else. Something else that glowed. Glowed beyond the natural lights of the Lampent. He reached in and pulled it out of the box; it was wrapped up in some sort of tatty old cloth. It was a grey colour. It looked worthless, like an old stone. He couldn't put it down and he couldn't put it back. He shoved it into his pocket and scrambled away from the broken step.
Sutton was there, outside the broken window.
James held his breath and his hair flopped over his eyes for a moment. He pushed his back against the wall and edged towards the door, unable to see Lioa or Andrew. They must have gotten away. James reached out and pulled himself through the narrow gap in the door. Getting out of the building was the easy part. Getting away without being caught was a little trickier. He was sweating more and more as every second ticked by.
Sutton turned to look the other way.
James sprinted as fast as he could along the cobbles. He checked back to see if he had been noticed. He had been spotted. He had a little time to find somewhere safe to hide. His heart pumped quicker and quicker. He wasn't afraid to battle if he had to. He turned into one of the side paths. As he was running along the narrow path, he was grabbed and pulled into a small side alley.
Lioa pulled James away from the side path. They both darted towards the tall wooden fence at the end of the alley and clumsily clambered over it. All three boys let out a massive sigh of relief.
"What do we do now?" Andrew quivered. "We are in so much trouble..." His hair looked as if it had been torn up by the wind.
"We keep running. We get back home. If Sutton spots us, we run faster. If he catches up, Lioa will battle him." Lioa nodded. "If Lioa somehow loses to that moron, we play the kid-card. Just sit and cry. Sutton is a sucker for it. He will feel guilty." James smirked.
"The guilt trip always works." Lioa smiled as they started to run northbound with Andrew was lagging behind. As one of the cross-roads came up, James began to pull out a lead over Lioa. He turned back to mock Lioa but was knocked over with a thud.
"Kitiku?" James blurted out. "Hadn't you gone home?"
Kitiku looked nervously at James, then stood. "I decided you may have needed help," he paused. "I think you destroyed the building."
Lioa stopped running and patted James's shoulder. The boys looked around. There was a dirty fog around them. The clouds of black mist swirled around.
There was no sign of Sutton.
"Okay... so... where are Seargent Sutton and the Southern army?" Kitiku said nervously and shuffled his feet.
James shivered suddenly. It was as if someone had just walked behind him and placed their stone-cold hand on his shoulder. The fog faded and a chilling breeze whispered through the narrow street where they had been running.
The street Lampent's flames, which had been dancing a soft purple, started flickering.
"Okay... M-mister Sutton? M-mister Sutton, you have caught us now... please j-just come out a-and arrest us... please?" Kitiku squeaked. He was shaking and timider than before. Something was bothering him and it wasn't the fact they would be in a lot of trouble if they were caught.
James had a sudden realisation; this was not Sutton trying to scare them. This was something else. There were no doorways, no narrow passageways, no drains - no places for Sutton to be hiding – at least on the ground level. James looked up at the rooves. His eyes focused, and his breathing was slow and calm. There was nothing. Not even a shadow. There were no stars in the sky. He couldn't also see the moon. The flames of the street Lampent started to flicker faster. The flames were darting around as if they were avoiding some sinister attacker. James noticed their eyes were a deep grey. They appeared to be lost within their own souls. He continued to scan the surrounding area.
James reached out to Kitiku. He seemed to be having somewhat of a panic attack. His face was discoloured as James pulled Kitiku behind him. The air had turned dead and empty, but there was still wind. The flames wouldn't flicker without one. He stared into the fire. Without warning, all the flames on every single Lampent insight went out. They all fainted simultaneously. Kitiku squeezed James's arm incredibly tightly. James could feel his hand tingle from the blood being cut off. He quickly shook Kitiku off and pushed him to the ground.
"James? What is going on?" he squeaked.
"It's Sutton playing a trick. Don't worry. I will defeat him and send him back home." He smiled at Kitiku. He could do nothing else. Then the smallest of horrors dawned on him. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.
"James? Where is Andrew?" Lioa asked. His voice was filled with fear.
James didn't turn around, he was fixated on the wall. The sandy brown wall of the house looked out of place to James. He couldn't put his finger on what it was.
The subtle sound of his friends' breathing stopped, and he was surrounded by silence. He opened his eyes and was enclosed by darkness. It wasn't pitch black. He could tell because of the shady figure standing two metres in front of him. He didn't recognise them at first. His stomach felt twisted and he wanted to vomit.
"Who are you?" James asked, taking a single step back but the figure didn't move. Its hat was tilted, and its hand held onto the long thin edge. The character was looking down and its legs were in a squared stance. "Where am I?" Again the figure remained still. James looked around. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down. "I am not afraid. I am not afraid of anything. This world, it isn't real, is it?" The nothingness around him seemed to be moving. James wasn't afraid, he was curious. The figure remained statuary as James slowly reached into his pocket. Okta was ready. If she was ready, he was ready. "Tell me who you are!" The figure suddenly looked up. The eyes James recognised immediately. Hanson Rei. James stepped back a few more steps, but something wasn't right. Rei was dead. Simple as that. He watched the fire rage at Marsten Hall. Rei was inside when the fire took hold. James suddenly smirked. "You aren't real." He blinked. His body felt as if it was twisting and being thrown around.
He opened his eyes. He was cold, he could feel again. He looked around and found himself now in a cave. The narrowing passageways and low ceiling were frightfully claustrophobic. The walls seemed a dingy grey, but it was too dark for him to tell for sure. James was confused. His head ached. It felt as if a thousand rampaging Tauros were running around inside it. The figure was gone but the air still felt as dead as the trees that loom over the graves of the victims of brutal fates. He stumbled forward in the pitch black. "I cannot see where I am going..." he murmured.
He could hear himself... "I can hear, though." The old stone which was attached to an old blackened piece of thin rope around his neck felt heavier than before. Wait. He paused. He felt the stone around his neck. Its smooth, crisp edges felt like the nothingness around him. "I never put this around my neck... I want to see where I am going, you know..." He called out. He continued to walk forward along the uneven grey rocky floor. He heard voices up ahead. They seemed nearby. It was as if they had faded into existence slowly. "Hello?" He then listened with extreme caution. He could still hear the voices. It was a conversation. One was accented to him. Southern – he thought. The other was definitely a Northern accent.
As he turned what appeared to be a corner, he saw the faintest glow of light. It shimmered a glorious yellow of hope. He ran towards it almost tripping over a Rattata. The Rattata squealed and its purple tail uncurled. Its long sharp teeth snapped viciously at the intruder who had nearly stepped on it. He continued to run into a subsection of tunnels where the light glowed stronger and stronger. He shot around the corner like an unwavering lightning bolt and slipped. He was horrified by what he saw next. He saw himself silently curled up. An arm was wrapped around him belonged to a tallish man. He couldn't make out who. Whenever he thought about who it may be his head scolded him with sharp headaches. He looked cold but safe. "Are you my real father?" He asked. There was no response. He turned to see Kitiku, Lioa and Andrew resting against the wall. They looked freezing cold. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. "How can you be? If I am there and I am here..."
He opened his eyes to a sharp bloodcurdling scream. He was at Marsten Hall and the fire was raging. He felt his blood reach boiling point, and his head was pounding. "Sutton just arrest me, please. My head feels like it's going to burst." James clutched his head desperately, "Please, it is hurting. Please arrest me, I think I need a doctor." The ground he stood on felt like the nothingness before. He could feel something touching his shoulder though. He was being tapped. He spun around but nothing was there. "Show yourself!" He cried out in anger. He was in pain. His hands, his head and his elbow. They all felt sore. His face felt tingly. He suddenly jolted forward.
Part 3
James was laying on the warm cobblestone pavement. He could feel the air brush against his skin. Breathing it in was like a luxury. Lioa was staring at him. His face filled with deep concern. His eyes widened as James pulled himself up into a sitting position. Kitiku reached down and pulled his friend shakily to his feet. James's wrists were bruised.
"Are they broken?" he asked Kitiku, but was met with a shrug. His right hand was coated in blood, and his face was bruised slightly just above his right cheek. He pressed the bruise with his finger and instantly regretted it. "What happened?" James looked dizzily at his friends. "I cannot remember falling over."
"James... you just seemed to be in a trance. Then you just collapsed asleep. You also talk in your sleep. You told us all your deepest darkest secrets," Lioa mocked, "only little babies fall asleep in the middle of a chase."
James scowled.
"Maybe we should call that moron, Sutton, to come and take the little baby home," Lioa laughed before realising it wasn't the best idea.
He heard footsteps behind him. He swivelled sharply to see the unimpressed face of Incaresta Sutton. He was scowling more so than James. He straightened his uniform with his right hand. In his left, he was holding Andrew Takui by the scruff of his neck.
Andrew was ferociously trying to get away; however, Seargent Sutton was not loosening his grip at all. Even if he did escape from Sutton's grip, he was handcuffed. He wouldn't get very far.
"Run!" Lioa shouted.
Sutton lunged forward to grab one of the three remaining boys. Kitiku narrowly avoided being caught. Lioa and James sprinted ahead without difficulty only to find their primary exit had been cut off by Sutton's patrol.
"Go!" Lioa squeezed himself down the narrowest passage in the town. James followed without hesitation. Kitiku was panicked but realised he had no choice but to follow in the footsteps of his friends. The sandy brick walls felt like they were stabbing the ribs of the skinny trio. The passage wasn't very long. They escaped into a wider street.
Lioa and James sprinted as fast as they could towards the western quarter of the town. Kitiku was exhausted. He wasn't cut out for running away from the law.
"James, you remember something from what happened, don't you?" Lioa panted.
"If we live, I will tell you." James quickly replied, "Turn right!" James shouted, "We can lose them in the alleyway!"
Sutton was catching up.
James was suddenly shunted by Lioa.
"No. Turn left! We can lose him in the park!" Lioa shouted.
James shoved him back. The street was becoming wider and wider. Kitiku was starting to tire to the point where he was losing ground on his two more troublesome friends.
Sutton's Fearow swooped in on the two leading boys from the sky. Its stick-like legs and sharp claws came close to James's already bruised face. Its brown wings were so densely feathered it looked as if it was made of silk. Its beady eyes focused on James.
"Electabuzz..." Kitiku heard from behind him. Sutton wasn't far behind now, neither was his Electabuzz. The amber yellow body of Electabuzz made it seem like a beacon in the dark. It wasn't a beacon the boys wished to head towards though. Its pitch black zig-zags looked as if they had been scorched on by an overheating torch. Its large eyes and small pupils were unsettling. The noise it made was horrifying. It was as if someone was scraping fingernails along a blackboard combined with a low melodic beat.
Kitiku peered behind him.
Sutton was not much taller than Kitiku. He wasn't muscular, nor was he skinny. His snow-blonde hair was short and appeared to be neatly combed. His face was rounded and clean-shaven. His nose made his face look perfect in perspective to his
incredibly pale skin. Amongst his pale skin, his big dark green eyes seemed to stand out like stars in the sky. His midnight blue jacket was slightly too long for him, it wasn't perfectly ironed. His Southern accent was incredibly strong.
Come on now boys, don't you think I deserve a break?" He sounded very awkward. "We do this every other night, I am sure. Kitiku Bryson, I am surprised you are involved in this... dangerous game of theirs. I am even so shocked to say I am disappointed."
Kitiku felt a sudden sadness grip him. Everyone around him was always so disappointed in him.
"How about we make a deal, boys? We can make a deal, I am sure. If you give up now, I might not electrocute you. I know you are scared. All of you are scared. That is okay," he puffed. "Give up and I may not electrocute you. Being electrocuted is scary isn't it? It sounds like a fair deal. Doesn't it?"
"No," James called back and sharply turned right at the junction. He saw Lioa fade into the distance as he ran in the opposite direction. James squeezed down yet another passage away. His arms brushed against the bricks. He could hear a voice behind him. It was slowly getting quieter and quieter. He peered over his shoulder. No one was following him. He had to keep going though. For his own sake.  "I did warn you. I offered you a chance to give up, but you kept running." Sutton knelt down. Kitiku was wincing in pain. His hands were bloody from when he had skidded along the cobbles after being shocked. He was so afraid. It was as if he had been left alone in a room of starved dragons and they were circling him. "You are slower than the others by some margin. Don't worry, they will both be joining you soon." Sutton reached out and carefully pulled Kitiku back onto his feet. "Once we get you in handcuffs, things will be so much easier." Kitiku's legs were shaking, and he seemed panicked as he slumped his head and leaned forward. Sutton felt the boy's head touch his chest. Kitiku rarely spoke to him. It wasn't that he was unfriendly, it was more the fact he didn't like to interact with people outside of his friendship group. In the North bowing your head to someone is usually considered a deep-rooted apology. Sutton waved his arms in the direction of the park. Several of his patrol set off in the dark after the troublesome Lioa. "Kitiku? I need to handcuff you. I know you don't like to be tugged around, but rules are rules," Sutton whispered to the boy. Kitiku's head was upright, but his eyes were looking at the floor. He appeared to want to distance himself from reality. Kitiku raised his hands slightly. He slowly ran his right index finger from the top of his left index finger down to his wrist. Then pressed his right-hand knuckles into his left palm. Sutton looked curiously at him. "Please..." Kitiku then tapped his left palm on the top of his right knuckles twice. "Against..." He observed as Kitiku made a small circle with both his index fingers, tapped his two knuckles together and then raised his left thumb. "Female trap. Please against the female trap." Sutton's blank facial expression said it all. "Kitiku, I don't understand what you are trying to say." Kitiku looked sadder than before. Sutton felt an incredible amount of guilt start to boil inside him. "As soon as I arrest you, we can go to the office and then you can go home." Kitiku repeated his hand gestures. Sutton stopped paying attention to his symbols and grabbed his handcuffs from his belt, and he brushed Kitiku's floppy hair out of his face. "Stay still. Don't move. Don't even think about escaping. Someone will be here in a minute or so. "If you do the punishment will be much worse. Grab these two bars for me..." Kitiku did as he was told. You are much easier to handcuff than the others..." He looked at the boy who now seemed more devastated. He tugged the bar and snapped everything into place. He released his Graveller. The body of his Graveller was a light grey and was bumpy looking. Its eyes were filled with determination so strong it could light a thousand torches. The boy was already upset. Sutton wasn't daft, despite his frequent comical accidents. He knew the fine line between kindness and pandering to someone.
Part 4
Lioa had reached the lake in the park and climbed a nearby tree. It didn't take long for a familiar figure to appear at the entrance of the park. Sutton stood firmly. He had a stern look on his face. "Lioa!" He called out, tugging his cap tightly to his head. "Parks maybe large... but they are open spaces! It will be so much easier for everybody if you just handed yourself in. We know how this is going to end... Why delay the inevitable?" He struggled to find the words for the last part. In his native tongue, his rhetorical question would have been a single word. He could imagine his children playing in a park-like this one with their Machop and Oshawott. He smiled thinking about them. The scent of the air was like sherbet, it made his nose twitch occasionally. "Come on, Lioa..." he muttered in his native tongue. Sutton felt uncomfortable in the heat, and his collar felt tight. Northern summers were always scorching. His Electabuzz was feeling the heat too and looked at him with discontent. "Lioa it isn't too late to surrender to me. If you do not give in, I will punish everyone who has been caught so far twice. Maybe even three times over." He felt incredibly awkward making these kinds of threats since he wouldn't really do that. He gazed at his reflection in the calm, gentle waters. He could see Lioa in the reflection too. Lioa was curled up on a long twisting branch. He jumped off the branch and summoned Ruskuo to attack Sutton. The dirt spewed into the air as he ordered Ruskuo to use a low kick. Both Sutton and his Electabuzz stepped to the side in a really calm manner. Sutton called out a command in his native tongue. Vesx swung a thunder punch and the sparks flew upon contact with Ruskuo. Ruskuo went to retaliate using reversal, however, before Ruskuo could land the hit, a protective shield surrounded both Sutton and his Electabuzz. Ruskuo retaliated using reversal but before Ruskuo could land the hit, a protective shield surrounded both Sutton and his Electabuzz. Vesx stepped aside and punched Ruskuo directly in the stomach with a thunder punch. Ruskuo crumbled and hit the floor with so much force. The dirt flew up in the air. Ruskuo was still awake. He began to stand once more. He flinched. Sutton smirked, Vesx had paralysed Ruskuo. Lioa turned to run. He forgot to call back Ruskuo. "Forgetting something Lioa?" Sutton called out. "I guess I lose." Lioa stopped running. Incaresta Sutton sighed a sigh of relief. He had caught Lioa off-guard, or he had just gotten lucky. "What now?" "Well, I arrest you, as usual." One of his Patrollers approached. Lioa puffed his hair out of his eyes but it just fell back into place. Sutton approached him and brushed his hair aside from his eyes. Lioa looked at him with disgust. "Don't touch me!" "Take it slow," Sutton smirked at Lioa, "It will be okay Lioa. I know you are scared," He said antagonistically. Lioa started to try and escape. "No, hold still." Lioa was definitely not making things easy. "Lioa calm down. Do I have to electrocute you?" Incaresta's face turned stern. His eyes focused; Lioa returned his expression. "Where is Hamés?" "I don't know a Hams. Try house 47, they know a lot of people." Lioa snapped back in the most sarcastic tone he could create at short notice. "So my accent is now a joke?" Sutton sighed. Lioa, handcuffed, looked like a volcano about to burst with rage. He reached out and placed a hand on Lioa's shoulder. "Come on, Lioa. Let's make this a little easier. Tell me where Hamés is and I might forget you caused trouble. That sounds fair." Lioa shuffled his feet anxiously. "I am fourteen. I don't..." James made his voice squeak before attempting to force himself to cry. The kid-card was very effective – if pulled off. "I want to see my father, but I can't because of you. One of you stopped..." "Lioa, that's enough." Incaresta was tired. He could feel the energy running from his brain through his body and into the floor. "I am tired. Honestly, you and Hamés and Androx have slowly worn me down." His accent was starting to seep through. Usually, James's name was the only one he struggled with. There was no J sound in the Southern alphabet. "I am twenty-seven years old, but I look fifty. You have given me that much stress," Sutton joked. Lioa's scowl turned into a smile. "Good, now if you don't mind..." Lioa wasn't smiling at his joke. He was smiling at Ruskuo who was standing behind Sutton. "Please recall Ruskuo. I really don't want to ask twice." Lioa's jawline dropped. "How?" he blurted angrily. "Ruskuo get rid of him!" Ruskuo swung his heavy arms with the strength of his substantial body. Ruskuo punched without success. His fists planted into the ground as he tripped and was knocked unconscious. "Lioa, I have a four-year-old boy and a toddler at home. I am used to seeing things everywhere." Lioa slumped against him before muttering something. "Let's get you back to the offices. I have Hamés to still find." James panted as he continued to run down the narrow streets. He was almost safe, just had a little further, maybe one or two lanes to go. He could then break back into the Bryson household and get into bed and pretend he had been there the entire time. After all, after what happened at Marsten Hall Tak Bryson had taken him in. Tak had refused to adopt him or foster him. However, when the Southern forces came, Tak had noted he was part of the household of Bryson. In the North, the term household referred to the family you lived with. That was deemed more important than bloodline. Even so, Tak had assigned James his family name of Bryson during the collection of information.
The thought dawned on him that if Kitiku wasn't behind him, he had been caught. If Kitiku had been caught out after curfew Tak would quickly figure out he had been too. Kitiku would be grounded until he was ninety. James suddenly had a looming feeling he would be thrown out of the household for making Kitiku break the law. He slowly gathered the energy to retrace his steps.
"Looks like a storm is coming." Incaresta Sutton held his hat with his right hand. The sky had blackened in the time it had taken him to drag Lioa against his will into the cell. Lioa's hair flopped over his face as he slumped against the top right corner of the cell. Andrew shuffled along the ground, nervously, to be next to his older brother. Sutton pressed Kitiku against his left side and rubbed his arm with his left hand in a repetitive format. Kitiku's breathing wasn't normal. He was stuttering breaths through his nose. He was shaking but frozen in place with fear. "What will we do with you? Don't say, let you go. That won't happen." A sharp flash of lightning struck a nearby building. A clap of thunder echoed loudly. It entered the cell from the small grate and filled the room in a deafening manner. Andrew jumped, his heart was racing. Lioa pulled his brother against his right shoulder and wrapped his arms around him protectively. Kitiku collapsed to the ground in panic. He made himself as small as possible and grabbed his hair by his ears. Sutton carefully pulled the stunned and terrified boy onto the lone bed in the top left corner of the room. "I need you to breathe, you want to see your Klink? Here look at what Klink is doing". He released Rusto from its capsule in a desperate attempt to calm the boy down. "I hope Hamés is okay. This storm is not one to get caught in". James, soaked, had retraced his steps. No sign of Kitiku or the others. He could hear whispers. It felt like the sounds were crawling into his ears. He was in an open crossroad.
Definitely not the best place to be, might I add off-islander, if you are trying to avoid being seen.
Before he could reach the dead air surrounded him once more. "James..." It spoke. Its lips didn't move. "You don't want to fight me, James. You want to be part of my household." Its voice sounded like a hiss, but its shape resembled Hanson Rei once more. "Don't you want to be a part of my household James?" James reached into his pocket without hesitation. He took a step back with his left foot before hurling Okta's capsule towards the figure of Rei. She landed with a thud, shaking the ground and letting out an almighty rugged roar. She could barely fit in the narrow street she had been thrown into. Her golden body, glistening in the moonlight, scrapped against the walls of the houses. The storm raged on. James hated storms; they frightened him but he couldn't afford to be afraid right now. He had to focus on the target. The one thing that scared him more than storms, the one thing that put all other fears into perspective stood in front of him, like a shadow. Hanson Rei. The figure's tone changed. "You don't want to be in my household. You are a traitor. You are born of filth, and I shall take over your soul." It screeched, doubling into an echo of itself. As the figure lunged forward, it transformed into a Gengar. Using shadow sneak it quickly darted in and out of view. James calmly watched every shadow he could see. He was waiting silently. A lightning strike near him created a blinding light. A thunderclap louder than a thousand drums sounded, leaving James distracted for a moment. Gengar lurched out of the shadows, it wanted to take his soul he thought. "Okta hit it with an iron tail!" Okta cried out in anger. She swung her temporarily metal tail aggressively smashing the walls of several houses. Debris spewed everywhere. James carefully moved out of the way of each slice that rained down. His hair was dusty now. Gengar seized the opportunity to lash out at Okta. Gengar chose to use shadow ball. The centre of the shadow ball was a void black, and its outside was a curdled purple. James could feel it pulsing as it got closer and closer. Okta couldn't dodge it, and she was already off-balance nor could she block it. She was hit crying out in pain. "Okta use dig!" Okta's eyes turned a burning red as she started to charge towards the Gengar before diving underground in a brown mist of sand. A second or so passed and she reappeared shooting up underneath Gengar. Her aim was to throw Gengar into the air to smash him back down onto the ground, or what was left of it. Gengar floated higher and higher until he was out of Okta's reach. Okta came crashing back down, destroying several houses. "If dig didn't work I doubt sand tomb will..." A second shadow ball headed straight for James. "Send it right back at it!" he shouted louder than before. Okta swung around again, denting the destroyed houses even more. They were near enough flat. She was making the ground shake more and more with every turn and twist and every roar she bellowed into the narrow passageway. She struck the shadow ball with tremendous force. The smoke was so thick and it smelt like a fire... and it felt cold at the same time. Before James could react, he was knocked over. Gengar had disappeared into the shadows during the shadow ball attack and had attacked James from behind. He felt dizzy. "Okta get it off of me!" She roared angrily at the Gengar what had James in its grasp. Gengar bit James's leg. "Okta help!"
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on May 2, 2018 17:48:14 GMT
Well, James just can't catch a break, can he? Although this time around, it does seem like he's bringing it on himself a bit; literally none of this would have happened had he, you know, not done any of these highly irresponsible things that he's doing. I guess that's what you get for being a protagonist.
Your world continues to be very richly detailed, and I think some of the information is better handled, too; while I feel like cutting rations permanently as a response to crimes committed is only going to make people more likely to do crime (i.e., steal food), I like that you introduce that particular bit of law lore only when it becomes necessary, at the moment when our heroes are wondering about the advisability of their little crime spree. That said, you definitely still skew towards telling rather than showing, and there are certainly moments where you take your reader completely out of the story to deliver data at a sustained level of detail that's in excess of what the story actually needs to work. Much of it would be really interesting information, were it introduced as and when it becomes necessary; as it stands, it can be a little wearing to get through.
In places it really does shine, though – mostly the parts where you talk about things in the world as if we already know about them, like the street lampent and the language barrier; these things sneak in as background detail, or in Sutton's struggles to enunciate foreign names, and that's where the world comes to life, as the information finds a place in the narrative.
At any rate, the plot is certainly picking up! I liked the way you slithered between perspectives here, showing us the chase from all angles and multiple sets of eyes, and I thought the battle at the end was quite nice, too. Yours is a very grounded take on gengar's levitate ability, pun semi-intended, and that's rather refreshing; there's nothing wrong with going all in on the elemental energy thing, but I feel like I see that more often than just plain “this pokémon can float out of the way”. I like that James has the acumen to notice this and extrapolate that he should probably switch tactics, too; he's clearly got a decent head for battles, and I suspect he'll have plenty of time to grow that talent as time goes by.
I did wonder what was happening to all the people in the destroyed houses, though. Like, it's the middle of the night, during a big storm – people are going to be at home. It feels a bit odd that nobody reacts to their houses being destroyed, or to seeing houses being destroyed right across the street. Possibly it's the kind of thing that raises more questions than it's worth? It's cool to see interaction with the environment in these battles, but demolishing these houses (and potentially killing a whole bunch of people, I guess) might be going a bit far.
That's the meat of the review out of the way; here are a few bits and pieces I noticed as I read through:
I think you mean “emit” here.
I'm not quite sure what this sentence means – I don't understand what the relationship is between his nose and his skin that makes his face look so good.
There are several places where you do this, but you don't need to capitalise dialogue attributions like that, even after an exclamation or question mark. They always begin with a lower-case letter.
I think I see the image you were going for here, but the way you've phrased that makes it seem like his hair has ears that he grabbed.
The quotation mark and the full stop are the wrong way around here.
That should be “scraped” rather than “scrapped”.
That should be “that” rather than “what”.
Anyway, the plot's definitely got going now, huh. And James has, in the manner of protagonists, overreached massively. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that this isn't going to work out particularly well for anyone involved. :P
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Post by Cavespider_17 on May 20, 2018 19:44:44 GMT
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"James, do you ever think we are part of something more?"
- Kitiku Bryson, 1988, Fehahra
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Part 1
"Luskt!" A Mightyena jumped from the dark fog onto the Gengar. It viciously chomped down on Gengar's back. As it did, it's silver and jet black lined fur on its back danced into wavy lines. Gengar howled a dark empty scream. The scream rippled through the streets. James kicked and kicked but the Gengar, despite being in pain, refused to let go. James felt trapped. It was as if with every moment, every heartbeat and every twitch of the pain he was being chained into a smaller and smaller space. Okta cried out for him; her roar echoed. She felt a deep sorrow inside her golden rocky body. As the Mightyena crunched down on the Gengar once more, a shadow peered over James. He could barely see anymore. His vision was blurred, and his ears were ringing. Gengar noticed the spectator and broke free from Mightyena with a glorious cry. It charged towards the shadows and disappeared into the moonlight. The spectator grabbed James by his shirt and pulled him up. Charleston stared into his eyes, her Mantis green eyes were stern. She shoved him against the wall aggressively before slapping him across his face. "Gengar..." Charleston said in a dark tone. Charleston slapped James across his face again. "Runt, you dare to challenge my rules?" James squirmed. He attempted to kick her, but his bite ached to the extent that moving his leg felt like the after the pain of running a marathon. "You have never seen one before? It didn't touch you, did it?" she barked aggressively. James looked away from her. "That's fine. You say nothing, but Luskt is hungry. I am sure he wouldn't mind having a bite of you. Call her back into her capsule." James looked back at her. His eyes lit up. He wasn't afraid, he was angry. She smirked, forcing Okta's capsule from his hand and returning her. She then whispered into his ear "Then again, you have less meat on you than a bone. So did it touch you?" "No. Now let me go! I didn't need your help! Okta and I had it completely under control!" "You are bleeding." She wiped the blood off her fingers on his cheeks in a slow and somewhat unsettling manner. He started sweating. "I am not bleeding!" He felt a strange sensation inside his nose. He went to touch it, and when he removed his hand, sure enough, there was a little blood. "A nose bleed? I never have nose bleeds. What is wrong with me tonight? First, I start hallucinating and wake up on the floor, and then the Gengar attacked me and then I had a nose bleed! Let go of me!" He squirmed a little more but was slapped once more. "You don't scare me. I am not scared of anything. That is why I..." Charleston raised her hand up once more. "Wait..." James sighed. She glared at him like an Arbok that had cornered its prey. He quickly realised his protests weren't going to help him escape. "Please don't hit me again." He shamefully hung his head, although he wasn't ashamed. He heard footsteps from behind Charleston. Sutton had just arrived – panting. She turned to speak to him. James seized the moment and kicked Charleston as hard as he could. She dropped him as a reaction and James dove under her arm and sprinted towards Sutton. He knew he could outsmart the somewhat slow Sutton, but that wasn't his plan. His plan was to rescue his friends via the guilt trip. "Don't let her feed me to Mightyena," James said in an intentionally pathetic tone. "I didn't mean it. Gengar started it. I was scared. I don't like the storm." Sutton raised his hands up to his chest to let James know he had just about had enough of excuses that night. James shut up at an instant. "Luckily for you, I am the one making the decisions tonight," Incaresta Sutton sighed, "Including doing the paperwork..." James looked up at Sutton in a confused manner. "Happily married, two kids sent here to keep an eye on things until Madison is defeated, and what do I end up doing?" he sighed again. "Wow, you are that old?" James laughed. Sutton scowled and grabbed James by the scruff of his neck. "I am only twenty-seven. So only thirteen years older than you." Sutton appeared to be in a little bit of a daydream. James started to slowly back away. "No. You are coming with me. I should arrest you, but honestly, it would be a waste of my time. Oh and I know that you passed out even before you mention it," Sutton said while still looking up at the stars. "Kitiku told me everything. Let's move." His accent made his words a blur to James's ears. He shunted James forward gently. "How bad did he squeal?" James asked, knowing the answer. "Like a Rattata with its tail on fire." James rolled his eyes and started to fidget as much as he could. Before he could break free, the grip on his scruff tightened once more. "No. Can you not squirm? I really don't want to cuff you or electrocute you, as it would be a waste of my time. Also, you are going to fix the massive amount of damage you did. It will be fixed by the end of the month." James's jaw dropped. He had obliterated a couple of houses and had damaged the cobbles. "All of it," Charleston smirked. "If one thing is out of place, we will ensure the Elite Guard have fun with you. They will probably make you polish the entire castle." "I could have been killed, and you want me to fix the damage I made defending myself? You give me mixed messages. How am I meant to be a 'good prisoner of the disgusting Southern Army who stole the town in which I live' if you keep telling me different things‽" James started to fidget even more. "Yes. Also, that attitude isn't going to get you any closer to being out of trouble," Sutton sighed. James attempted to bolt forwards. The narrow streets made his escape impossible. The houses closed in on him as he moved closer to freedom. He was grabbed by the arms more ferociously. "Okay, I am arresting you formally now. You were warned." "Come on. Please? I'll be good. I won't try that again. I don't like the storm okay? I am scared." James leaned against Sutton's chest once more. "I cannot tell if you are lying or not anymore." Sutton shoved James forward in a more aggressive manner than usual. After all, tonight was the night before the festival. The festival of Hakahra Liopfar Ha was banned by the Southern occupiers. Hakahra meaning courageous, Liopfar meaning transition or change and Ha meaning to finish – the festival's literal translation to your language is Courageous transition towards death. Of course, the literal translation is very misleading. It is more of a festival in which the victor is declared a man or woman of warrior status and wiser than the others and those that fall short are considered weak. In fact, using Pokémon at all without permission was illegal in most of the Northern locations. People who used their Pokémon were more likely to be a threat to the current state of affairs and therefore banning actions such as battling would help lower this risk. Sutton had been leaked information of a Captain coming to Fehahra to lower the resistance activity in the area. The entire change had put Sutton on edge. This man had been hand-chosen by Lord Piscar himself after all. Sutton wondered what this man would be like. His current boss, Lieutenant Charleston, wasn't exactly friendly towards him. She saw him as inferior because he grew up in a small mining village. She was to be sent to Finar town approximately eight miles away from the outskirts of Fehahra. He wasn't pleased with being left in charge while she was away, even for a few days. Especially as the Elite Guard of the South did have a presence in the town. Admittedly their presence was minimal. However, it was like leaving a Braviary inside a Raticate nest inside a Dwebble nest... there was plenty for the Braviary to eat and the size of its meal depended on whichever of its prey made a foolish mistake and revealed itself first. "Mister Sutton? Can I go home now?" James asked. Sutton thought for a moment. He didn't want to let the boys off the hook tonight without some formal form of punishment for all the commotion, but he also already had promised Kitiku that he wouldn't do anything to hurt him. Kitiku was terrified anyway, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was a child having a complete breakdown, although Kitiku had already come close having one. They had reached the tall building, which was occupation headquarters. James stopped walking and slumped down on the cobble but was quickly pulled back up against his will. Gengar had done something to him. He wasn't sure what, but he felt so exhausted, it was as if every piece of life in his body was a candle being blown out. "Mister Sutton?" "Hmm?" he sounded irritated, "What is it?" "Carry me? I'm tired." "You are not five years old. You can walk like everyone else," Sutton said quietly as they approached the cell where the other three were being held. "Ah, okay so now I have all four of you..." He pushed James down onto his knees next to his friends. "Firstly, seeing as three of you are on your final warning I shall allow you one final chance... after all a new Captain is coming here in the next few days. I will inform him of your actions. I am sure he will punish you appropriately." Andrew hung his head in shame before getting up and walking over to Incaresta. He pressed his bowed head against Incaresta. "I am sorry, but rules are rules." He nudged Andrew back down onto his knees. He looked saddened by his own comment. "I suggest you clean up the mess your all created and if you do that well enough, I might forget to mention it..." He then said something in his native tongue before sighing. He rested his right hand on his cheek. "I should also inform the Elite Guard tonight of the actions of all four of you. You could have killed somebody. I am sure they will find some sort of punishment. They will probably set Kitiku on his final warning immediately. As for you three... I don't know what they will do." Kitiku was shaking. James shuffled over to comfort his friend, who had started to panic. He had gone ghost white and flopped to the floor. "Do I need to separate you four while I get a member of the Elite Guard? I think I should. It is probably for the best," Incaresta muttered. Before Sutton could make his move to separate them a tall, fair-skinned man brushed past. He was in a white lab jacket and midnight blue trousers. His glasses appeared to be sliding off his nose. In usual circumstances, James would have made a smart remark to insult the man. This man was no man to insult, however, this man wasn't just a doctor either. He was a doctor in the Elite Guard. He towered over Sutton and stared blankly at the boys. He held a book in his right hand which he clearly had been enjoying as the spine had been broken and the pages were musty. "My Lord." Sutton kneeled down on his right knee and placed his right arm across his left thigh. His left hand was touching the floor by his left boot. His head was bowed down. "These children had broken the laws established here when we arrived. Some of which are on their final warnings. However, there has been an incident involving a Gengar. I believe it is in everyone's interests if you..." The Elite Guard thumped Sutton on the head with his book. "I didn't say you could speak yet." His voice was strict and foreboding. As much as James hated Sutton, he felt sorry for him. The Elite Guard was much worse, in his opinion than goofy Sutton. Andrew had also started to go pale. He was squeezing Lioa's arm so tightly that Lioa had lost all feeling from the shoulder down. The Elite Guard approached. He was maybe four or five steps away. "Do you, children, know no respect?" He straightened himself up in an attempt to make himself seem more fearsome. "Why aren't you bowing to me? It is disrespectful to not bow down to your betters." Kitiku's panic rapidly worsened. His breathing became uncontrollable and unpredictable. "What is wrong with him?" the Elite Guard hissed. "Less than what is wrong with you," James blurted out. Kitiku's nose started to bleed again, and he began to cry. "Leave him alone. He didn't have anything to do with this. Neither did the others. The Gengar chased me, I woke them up because I thought it was going to get us all. How did I know it just wanted me?" James snarled. The Lord ignored James’s protests and knelt down next to Kitiku. "I said, leave him alone. Give me Okta, Sutton. I want to fight this disgusting bully," James continued. The man placed his hand on Kitiku's cheek as James tried to get closer to protect his friend. "Are you okay?" Kitiku looked for James to answer for him. "I am not asking him. I am asking you. He doesn't know how you are," the Lord spoke sternly. He turned to Sutton. "Get up you pathetic soldier. I suppose I have to do everything?" "Do what my Lord?" he replied, confused. "Seeing as we have a mute or an idiot, I am not sure which, proceed with punishing them. I cannot be bothered with paperwork, and I doubt you know how to spell your own name..." James coughed a laugh. The Lord stood up and whacked James on the head with his book. The thud echoed a little in the otherwise dull and life-less looking cell. "Hit them. Up to you what with. I recommend something hard. The only way to get these minor rule-breakers under control. Let's see... ah, I have the perfect solution. Which one of you is the leader?" James raised his right arm, as did Lioa. They both looked at each other with rivalrous eyes. "Maybe not that solution then. Hit these two once," he pointed to Kitiku and Andrew, "and these two twice." He looked at James and Lioa. "For each hour of your time, they wasted tonight." Sutton nodded. The Lord lit a cigarette and observed Sutton. "I think..." Sutton started. "Don't think, soldier. Do as you are told, or dare you to question our Elite Lord Piscar?" The Lord's voice turned dark and more dangerous. "This boy isn't very well. Are you incapable of determining the basic signs of illness and stress?" Sutton argued. His voice rose in pitch as if his throat tightened. "Perhaps I should inform Elite Lord Piscar via complaint of your inadequacy." He stood as tall as he could and tried his utmost to appear brave. The Lord, who clearly hadn't been fooled by his act simply scowled for a few moments. He then sighed and took his glasses off. "Perhaps I misjudged your stupidity," the Lord spoke softly, "however, considering the circumstances, no, the probability that the child is suffering from some form of extreme stress I shall investigate. I shall hold you personally responsible if my time is wasted. If my time has been wasted, I shall ensure you are sent to the hot-spot. I hear Madison has a decent defence there, only one in ten of our regular soldiers like yourself are surviving." He removed the cigarette from his mouth, "Punish the other two, these two will remain with me. Get out!" the Lord barked. "There is something wrong here, with you I mean," he whispered to Kitiku, who squeezed James's arm ever tighter. "Leave him alone!" James shouted aggressively, "I will fight you, just leave him alone." "As a doctor, that would be very irresponsible. I am a member of the Elite Guard; however, I am also a doctor. Therefore healing comes before killing – usually.” He grabbed James’s shoulder, “However, if you don’t stop talking, I will make an exception. What are your names? First and last names. Don't think about lying. If you lie, I will punish you." James felt sick and vulnerable, he missed Okta already. She had protected him and helped him cope with Rei... Without her protecting him, anyone could do what Rei did to him once more. "I have all today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow... I have until the day I die. I doubt you can hold on that long. Either way, I suspect this boy needs a drink of water and a lot of rest." The Lord pushed Kitiku's hair, so it no longer covered his face. "Give me Okta first, then we talk about names." James puffed some air up to move his hair from his eyes. "You are not in any position to make demands to me. Do you not want to help your friend? He could be dying, and you deny him the medical help he requires for your own selfish need?" The Lord raised his eyebrows. "Wanting to feel safe is not selfish. I would keep both of us safe from you," James glared. "Your manipulation will not work on me. I have heard it all before. Lies, broken promises, deliberate attempts to trick us into doing what you want." "That is what a trick is. You are clearly ill-educated," the Lord snubbed James. "You have courage..." He handed Okta over to mock James. "If you think you can defeat me do it. You lose you get executed. Courage is stupidity unless it is controlled. Do you understand?" "I understand you are the enemy, but…” James turned to Kitiku, who was motionless “… if Kitiku needs your help, I will allow that. I am James; this is Kitiku, we live in the Bryson household. I am fourteen, Kitiku is thirteen. The head of our household is Tak Bryson, his wife is Nashe Bryson. Please don't tell Ta- I mean our father. He will be angry. We are just disappointments to him." "You two are brothers? I am concerned about your brother's wellbeing. He is showing signs of... damage. You do not mind if I examine you both? I will do so with or without your consent; however, I would much rather you both consent to save me time and to save you both a lot of stress." James, now deeply concerned for his friend, nodded in agreement to the Lord's demands.
Part 2
Once being dragged up the dark grey stairs and into a small room, James started to think of his newest escape plan. Kitiku could afford a warning, he, on the other hand, couldn't. The walls were painted a ghostly white and an examination table made from a rusty metal rested against the wall on the far side. A table with a leather briefcase rested on the left wall. "I shall be running a few basic tests if required – mainly testing your cognition and your abilities to resolve minor medical issues. The average times for which I have here. Do not feel under any obligation to meet these times; however, these times will be very relevant to my attempts to discover whether or not I am dealing with an actual issue or whether you are reacting to fear or whether you are just pretending to be ill. If this is the case, I shall ensure some extremely memorable and rather influential punishments are issued, if you are truly ill, then I shall ensure that the right treatment is given. However, I just suspect that you are both slightly damaged by your fears of some description – most probably fear of being placed in jail for a short amount of time," the Lord said, finally turning around to face them. "Who is going first?" James protectively stepped in front of Kitiku. His bite was burning, but he had to pretend to be okay. "What do I have to do?" James asked suspiciously and scared as he pulled himself up with relative ease onto the table. The Lord then released a Pachirisu from his capsule. The Pachirisu’s blue stripe coat added a vast spread of colour to the room. The Lord then called out a command, and a bright burning light filled the room for a few moments. "I can't see, why did you do that?" James shouted, irritated and fearful. "Tell me where the red dot is on this sheet," the Lord Said. James's eyes stung. All he could see was an ocean of burning light, and central to it all was a red dot. "Point to it for me. Don't think about the time it has taken you," the Lord Said. James reached forward and touched the sheet. "Eighteen seconds. Much faster than average. Good boy," he said, patting James on the head. James begrudgingly accepted the praise. "Now get off," the Lord snarled. James slipped off the table. He was slightly dizzy from the light. The Lord tugged him and sat him in the bottom right corner of the room before dragging Kitiku onto the table and repeating the experiment. When James opened his eyes from the second flash, he could make out that Kitiku was sitting on the table and the Lord was holding the sheet out in front of him. Kitiku seemed flustered and confused by what was going on. "Where is the dot? Point to it," the Lord whispered. A lifetime appeared to have passed before Kitiku reached forward and touched the dot. "Six minutes, forty-seven seconds." Pachirisu was then petted gently before being returned. "The average time is thirty-nine seconds." The Lord pulled James up gently before sitting him on the table. "Your time suggests there is nothing wrong with you – as a matter of fact, it suggests you have highly developed reactions according to our research. On the other hand, your time was worrying. It suggests that there is something incredibly... odd." He reached out and stroked Kitiku's head. "Do you panic a lot or become easily upset?" Kitiku nodded. "Once you start to panic you can't think of anything else but death or your worst fears coming for you?" he continued. Once more, Kitiku nodded. His voice softened a little, "You dislike people, noise, bright lights? Do you dislike people or things interrupting what you are doing to the point it makes you stressed?" Kitiku nodded again. "I suspect I know what is wrong, but I cannot be sure without some of your blood. Are you afraid of me? You don't like to speak to people, do you? Well, I am not like other people. I am going to help. I will need to transfer your medical records onto my personal patient list; however, I need you to verbally agree," the Lord reacted. Kitiku looked at James, who was looking at the Guard suspiciously. "I agree..." he squeaked. "Fantastic. I will take some blood now, and I will no doubt speak to you about the results the day the new Captain arrives. Now I believe the buffoon is back so I will send you on your way. Do not break the rules again. I will let this go tonight because there is something wrong with you. If it happens again however, I will provide double punishment. Is that clear?” the Lord said, coldly. The boys both nodded as Sutton appeared to take them home. As the boys walked alongside Incaresta Sutton along the dark cobbled streets, James concocted a plan to gather whatever information he could from Sutton about the ‘new Captain’. James needed to know how to get rid of him or her. If he was successful, the South would look stupid. "So... there is a new Captain?" James asked Sutton cheerfully. "Classified," the Sergeant provided a dreary response as he tugged his cap harder on his head. "So, yes?" James pressed. "Drop it Hamés. It is classified information," Sutton responded, tired. "So this new Captain, is it a man or a woman?" James pressed further, knowing Sutton would trip up. "If you keep asking questions he will be the next person you see as you will be placed in a jail cell and I will happily throw away the pin number," Sutton said in a monotone voice. "So... he? If he likes to get stuff done straight away, then he will be busy. Does he have lots of strong Pokémon to help? I mean like Machamp? Or Houndoom? What about Hypno? Those things are creepy..." James quizzed. "Hamés be quiet," Sutton whispered. "Why won't you talk about it? You are usually one of the only people who actually interact with us. I hate you but I prefer you to most of them. What is wrong with you?" James tugged his arm. "Hamés I could have been sent away, and I would have probably been killed because of what you and Kitiku and Lioa and Andrew did. If it wasn't for Kitiku being a little weak-minded brat I would be dead because I stood up for you on a whim," he blurted out. Kitiku shrivelled up and grabbed James's arm once more. "Kitiku, I didn't mean that. Sometimes people say things they don't mean. I will get you home, and then you can be with your mother." He smiled goofily in his best attempt to make up for his comment. He instantly regretted what he had said. "At least there is no storm anymore. Watch where you step. The cobbles are a little slippery." "I want answers because... I want justice for my mother..." Sutton paused and stared at James. "Mother's sister," James quickly corrected. The man stopped what he was doing and tried to sound out the Colrat word. "Ukara? Ukara-ka? Ukara means mother, what does Ukara-ka mean?" Sutton was confused by the language. "Nashe is your mother, isn't she? So let me solve this one...." he paused. "Ka is female because it ends in "a", so mother-female? No.... mother's female sibling?" "Yes," James nodded. He felt so relieved due to Sutton's poor understanding of the language he was able to hide his bloodline again. "Come on, you two," James was suddenly hit by a feeling beyond exhaustion. Sutton grabbed James with his right hand by the scruff of his neck, and Kitiku with his left in the same fashion. Kitiku was silent. He looked worried. "Relax a little, okay?" He walked them back towards the Bryson household. "You have a few days before the Captain punishes you... if he decides to." The door of the Bryson household was a dark wooden colour. The bricks were cleaned on the outside. Tak did his best to make the house presentable to the world regularly. The house was tiny; It had an upstairs, there were four windows only. The roof was slate and crumbling. It was dark inside, perfect for arriving undetected. "Now what? You knock on the door..." James was panting from exhaustion. He had never felt so tired. "... and I get kicked out of the household... and Kitiku gets grounded until he is ninety?" "Are you okay? I suppose it would be a little harsh. Well, I expect you to remain at home now and not break the curfew again..." He released both the boys, "I wish you goodnight." The boys scrambled up the drainpipe into the bedroom window into their small shared room. At best it was two metres by one-metre three-quarters. James's bed was on the right when you entered the room by the door, and Kitiku's bed was on the left. James's bed had a musty white pillow at the window end. His duvet was a faded red. It was woven Mareep wool. He pulled his shirt over his head and tugged his shoes off and his socks. He dragged himself into bed and pulled the duvet over his chest. Kitiku's pillow was a fading grey also at the window end. His duvet was a light soft blue, also woven from Mareep wool. The wool was quite scratchy, but it was cheap. He put his pyjamas on and tucked himself in quickly without a sound. "Kitiku?" James whispered. "Hmm?" the timid boy responded. "Tomorrow is going to be a big day, isn't it?" James asked. "I am not going. Nothing you can say will convince me to go," Kitiku said, narrowing his eyes. "I can't find it without you... we can't find it without you. You are the only person I know who can read the old language," James pleaded. "I can't read it..." Kitiku sighed, "I can understand fragments and only fragments." "So you will help us find the entrance? It is hidden for a good reason. I really want to find the festival grounds. I want to be considered more than what I am now..." James suggested. "Fine. Just let me sleep, okay? I am tired and I am scared and I really don't want to die when the Captain punishes us for your grand schemes," Kitiku hissed. "Are you okay?" James asked. It was really out of character for Kitiku to speak, let alone hiss. Kitiku just rolled over. "I suppose we are lucky..." Kitiku was upset. He didn't respond for a moment or two. "James, I really don't want to die. At the rate you are going we will all be dead before I turn fourteen." He rolled onto his back and looked at James. "You will win the tournament. I am counting on it." He smiled a fake smile and closed his eyes. James puffed a sigh before closing his eyes.
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Jul 4, 2018 18:12:22 GMT
Well, that case of protagonism that James caught last chapter seems to be terminal, huh. Like – “James needed to know how to get rid of him or her. If he was successful the South would look stupid” – this is so close to being coherent reasoning that it's kind of amazing; it's cartoon logic, real fourteen-year-old-protagonist kinda stuff, and while it's obviously not very sound it fits him very well. Like, he wants to fight the South, but despite having seen the attack on Marsten Hall he still seems to understand all of this mostly in very childish terms – making the South “look stupid”, when of course mere mockery doesn't usually represent a substantive assault on power.
I'm not sure I'm really convinced by the interaction between James and Sutton when James is caught; James is such an appalling actor, frequently breaking off his scared child act to give Sutton lip, that I can't imagine anyone with a basic familiarity with human nature would be taken in. Which, given that James is convinced he can guilt-trip Sutton into releasing his friends, makes the whole sequence read kind of weirdly. That Sutton calls what happened tonight a mere “commotion” and considers letting them off the hook doesn't help – like, James destroyed several homes! That's a pretty big crime, imo – and it's clear that Sutton is supposed to be viewing all this as crime, rather than just some youthful hijinks.
However! I do think your integration of information is improving. Like, we only get information about Sutton's concerns about the upcoming festival and the Captain's arrival when we reach a point where this information is immediately useful to the story, and that gives it a lot more impact and makes it stick with the reader a lot better than if it were simply bolted on in some long descriptive passage, I think (though I also think that perhaps we don't need the ideas repeated as often as they are). And, as usual, the richness of detail you've put into the cultures of this world here is very striking – the specific postures of supplication and/or respect that are used by Andrew and Sutton, for instance.
You should also have a bit more confidence in your ability to convey the information you want to! Here, for instance:
I think you make Okta's pain very clear without having to say explicitly that she felt sorrowful; the cry of anguish conveys this perfectly.
Not quite sure why this is capitalised. Is it to denote that her eyes are typical of some kind of ethnic group? Because “mantis-green eyes” could also just refer to eyes that are the same shade of green as your typical praying mantis.
As previously mentioned, you don't need to capitalise dialogue attributions like that, even after an exclamation or question mark.
I think Sutton's saying that he himself is happily married with two kids, but the way this sentence is laid out makes it read as if there were two kids sent here to keep an eye on things, not him. A comma after “kids” would help to clarify things.
You're missing a blank line between these two paragraphs.
There's an inconsistency here with the way the actions interrupting the dialogue are formatted – I think I'd personally go for dashes, but like, I think you can get away with the commas you used in the first instance, so copying that format onto the second instance would be fine.
These should be dashes rather than hyphens – either long dashes without spaces on either side or regular dashes with spaces on either side.
This hyphen here should be a long dash, although the spacing is correct.
Sometimes you still explore a point a bit more deeply than is necessary at the moment – like, in this case, I'd think the Lord would stop after the line about them looking nothing like each other; the third sentence here makes it seem like his mind is wandering pretty far from his purpose, which doesn't seem like the impression you're trying to give. There's a similar thing here:
You only need the first sentence here to communicate what you mean; the second is superfluous.
“Briefcase” is one word, rather than two.
This threat is so elaborately worded that I'm not sure I completely understand it – “extremely memorable”, sure, but “rather influential”? Is that intended to mean that the effects will be felt for a long time afterwards? If so, it's a weird way of saying it, and that's kind of implied by “extremely memorable”, anyway.
The full stop should be inside the quotation marks, not outside.
The comma after “sighed” should be a full stop, I think.
Missing a comma after “schemes”.
Anyway, the plot appears to be taking shape now. Maybe I just didn't remember it from before, but I feel like I'm now uncertain of what James' goals were in sneaking out that night in the first place? Nor am I quite certain how exactly they plan to hide any of this from Tak. Sure, they sneaked back in, but they also destroyed several houses and have been ordered to rebuild them, so … that seems like a thing that would be difficult to conceal. Unless I'm misunderstanding what they've been asked to do, that is. Presumably all will become clear next time when all of this actually starts to happen! It seems clear that James will be trying to locate and enter this festival tournament, but of course I seriously doubt that's going to go as smoothly as he hopes, or Kitiku tries to convince him he believes.
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Sept 27, 2018 23:11:14 GMT
ᚣ "Don't be fooled, whoever did this was neither North or South. They were something else." - Clarence Bourbabel, 1988, Marsten Hall ᚣ
Part 1
The morning rolled around quicker than James had planned. James tossed and turned in his bed. He was dreaming about flying high above the clouds on the back of a Salamence he had named Gabbia. The clouds felt soft in his hands as he soared.
Kitiku lay still dreaming of the latest book he had been reading. He imagined himself as one of the side characters, no one important who had to face the hideous monsters the main character did. Doing so would turn the dream into a nightmare.
Friday was by far the worst day of the week. It was the day of fasting for those who believed in Cresselia. It wasn't the empty stomach that bothered James, but the lack of energy. His body would feel like it had been chained to the floor.
A few moments later Oosho suckered his way into the room with his long orange tentacles. Oosho was Tak's Octillery and a hero as such. Oosho didn't like anyone in the household very much. He even appeared to have a grudge against Tak, probably due to being summoned during a nap, or perhaps Tak selected one of his other team members instead of him. Tak’s team was a secret, even to Kitiku. Tak was very reclusive about his former life as a Lord.
Oosho looked into the room. His eyes were fixated. His gleaming yellow eyes with their small pupils were enough to scare anyone. Slowly Oosho suckered his way up to James's bedside wall. The puckering sounded like the pops on an air tight container.
James and Kitiku were so focused on their dreams they didn't hear him as he squelched his way along the wall.
Oosho waited for them to move, when he was sure they were unaware of his presence he slowly continued his trek along the wall. Suckering. Suckering. Suckering. He then slid down the wall onto James's bed, slowly, slithering his way onto James' side. He waited a moment and then pushed his face into James's, resting his big eyes against James's. He then snorted.
James could feel the warm air against his face. He opened his eyes and saw a hideous dot in a sea of yellow. He yelled in panic and squirmed out of bed. He hit the floor with a thud.
Kitiku hearing the scream and the thud jumped up in complete panic.
"I hate that Octillery," James hissed.
Kitiku picked up his watch that had been resting on the end of his bed. He was alarmed. "James... It is 9:35! If we want to make it we need to go now. Before my mother gets back or worse, my father. What are we going to do about Oosho? He will no doubt tell my father in some obscure way."
The boys scrambled to get ready.
"When I come back a man, your father may actually be okay about the whole thing. Trust me Kitiku, I will win the festival,” James said, hopeful.
Kitiku pulled on a plain white t-shirt over his head. He buttoned up the top button and brushed himself down.
James on the other hand put his arms through the unbuttoned white shirt. He carefully buttoned up all but the top button.
Kitiku, hurriedly pulled up his black trousers. He wobbled for a moment but survived his minor dressing ordeal without falling over.
James sat down rather than try and make a fool of himself putting on his black trousers standing up. He then slowly and carefully brushed his shoulder-length hair. Much to the disgruntled look of Kitiku.
Both boys grabbed their single Pokémon and ran down the rickety wooden stair case which led to a small corridor towards the front door. The walls of the house were not heavily decorated but there were a few items of interest. There were three
pictures of Pierre, Tak and Nashe together, but none of Kitiku. Pierre's sword and knife hung alongside his shield by the front door. The main blade was a shiny silver colour. The helm was golden and the handle itself was bone. One thing Tak was proud of was his deceased son. James and Kitiku both knew if Tak could he would trade Kitiku for Pierre.
The boys flung open the door as they charged to escape the house. As the boys attempted to squeeze through the door at the same time they became somewhat wedged. Sutton walked past.
"James..." Kitiku whispered nervously.
Sutton stared at the boys who were wedged. It took him a moment to realise they were stuck. He burst into a roar of laughter. "Would you like some help?" Sutton laughed so hard his speech appeared to be a sludge of accent and laughter. "Or would
that be a knife to your ego?"
James rolled his eyes in an irritated manner. "Shut up Sutton. It isn't funny," James replied, "Just help us and go back to being the local pain in the...."
"Maybe if you give me this attitude I should just leave you there, but I am too nice to do that." He approached them still laughing. He shunted James' body back and pulled Kitiku forward. "Why did you even get stuck? Going somewhere other than the centre of town to fix the mess you made?" His stare deepened. "You are already late..." James and Kitiku both looked at each other confused and then back at Sutton. "Didn't I tell you to be there at 6:30 am?"
Both boys shook their heads.
James blurted out angrily, "You know today is an important day of the week for us. Why would you do something that could make us collapse or faint or be ill or faint?"
Sutton raised a single eyebrow. "You said faint twice. That means you are up to something because when people lie and they list things they tend to repeat something for emphasis. What are you up to?"
"That is the stupidest thing you have said," James answered. "You say a lot of stupid things. Nearly everything you say is stupid. Can we go and play now? You are in the way." James attempted to side-step Sutton but was unsuccessful."
"Why would you do something that could make yourself collapse or faint or be ill?" Sutton smirked. He believed he had managed to outsmart James. He then sighed, "Say please."
"I'll let Okta eat you if you don't let me through," James blurted out.
Kitiku quickly elbowed James. It was a feeble elbowing. If James didn't know Kitiku was there he wouldn't have noticed it at all.
"Fine. Please let us go play now you idiot," James snarled.
"That should do, I suppose. "Sutton stepped back and sighed, "One day you will treat us with respect."
James sighed before walking past Sutton, who gently brushed his hand against James's head. "We must be extra careful with this new Captain around. He could be exceptionally tough, I mean I could take him on... probably." His leg started to twinge
a little, the wound inflicted by the Gengar seemed to be worsening the more they walked. The walk upon the bumpy streets was at best irritating. The heat from the sun glared down onto the faces of the boys. In the distance James could see Lioa. Lioa was waving. "Lioa!"
"James. Kitiku." Lioa answered calmly. "Sutton actually let a Guard punish us last night. Dirty move. We are trying to forget about it, but we will make him pay. Anyway, where are we going?"
"The only clue is "Deseto es-k kibro. E mirra nos thero". Deserted the kind. The mirror of the truth. No. "E" means the, so... possibly "a desert of its kind. The mirror of the truth." I am not sure what it means." Kitiku said softly. "My translation is probably wrong... Father always said I wasn't as intelligent as Pierre..."
"Kitiku, you are never wrong. Honestly, Tak is an idiot for thinking that," James said reassuringly, thumping his friend's shoulder. "Desert? There is one big desert in Coltar. Just south-west of Akrat. Its maybe if we are lucky we will get to the desert by nightfall. If we are wrong though..." His thoughts started to wander to how he would manage to make it from the 400 entrants to the finals.
"James? Did you hear what I just said?" Kitiku nudged his shoulder.
"No? Was it important?" James grunted in a moody fashion. "I was thinking about how Okta and I will beat everyone else so it better be important!"
"Akrat is a place where lots of slave trading happens. We need to be careful," Kitiku replied, nervously, “Besides, We still have to walk through Kithuk," Kitiku added.
Slave trading was a big issue in Coltar back then. It still is an issue in Akrat today but most other areas it is in decline or has been abolished completely.
"Who needs to walk?" James smirked. He turned out his pockets to reveal a Poké ball with a rather angry looking Claydol inside. "I stole it off of Sutton a few days ago. You guys remember the key switch we did right? Well I broke into the Pokémon storage room that they have. Claydol teleport us to the festival!" Claydol didn't budge from its ball. It looked even more agitated at James.
"You are doing it wrong." Lioa snatched the Claydol from James' hand. "Claydol use Teleport". Once again nothing happened. Claydol's dark brown body rested against the inside of the ball. Its big red eyes stared at Lioa. Although Claydol don't tend to have any means of showing expression, Lioa was convinced it was laughing at him. "I said use teleport." Lioa started to shake the ball in a rather violent manner. "Fine! Don't use teleport. I will throw you into the river! You stupid wasteful piece of Tauros ...!" As Lioa went to hurl the ball into the river the enraged Claydol seized the moment to break free of the ball.
Claydol used teleport.
Part 2
The boys quickly found themselves consumed by the psychic field. They were thrust into what the people of the island generally call the Ranubai-the world of nothingness. Different to the Void between the Aether and Distortion World. The transportation to Ranubai was violent and dizzying.
They steadied themselves momentarily as they stared blindly into the dark world around them. The world felt like nothing. They quickly began to panic, they feared they were trapped there forever. There was no air for them to breathe. Each breath was harder than their last. Slowly the world around them darkened into a blur of light. They fainted before being thrust back into the normal realm. "James..." Kitiku squeaked, “Are you awake? This isn't the festival. This is Akrat." James scanned the area quickly with his eyes. They were in a narrow alley. The ways of the houses were wooden and crooked. Each side was coated with sand. They had clearly faced numerous sandstorms. The ground was clearly concrete at a touch, but it was also coated in sand. The small sand pieces were sharp and dug deep into James's fingers. "Wow, we have an intelligent one. I suppose he is worth a coin or two," a dark figure chuckled. "Look at that one. He looks like a real warrior. I suppose with some training he and his Pokémon could fight in the pit for amusement," a second figure leaped from the shadows. A tall skinny man wearing an open top and incredibly short shorts stood in front of the boys. His face was scarred across his lip in three places. He was an albino. His hair was blacker than coal and his eyes were soulless. "I am surprised you haven't been burnt to ciders," James grit his teeth as he spoke. He bulked himself up in an attempt to seem fearless and too much hassle. "Now, now, you shouldn't speak to your new owner like that," the albino man hissed. "Teach them a lesson Kirno." An Aggron appeared behind the boys and cried out. Andrew seized the moment. He leaped up and tried desperately to escape. The first slaver grabbed him. "I want my mother!" Andrew screamed as loudly as he could before being slapped. James reached into his pocket and left his hand in there. Something was bothering him. He could hear something. “James...Go on James. Make him hurt for what he has done. Make him bleed. Make him feel pain. What are you waiting for James? Are you too afraid? Kill him James. Use her power. Crush him with the pure power of the rocks of her body. What are you waiting for? Do it!” His head filled with rage. He felt a burning feeling. He wanted to hurt these men. He wanted them to feel afraid. James went to summon Okta to complete the circle of rage within his soul. The first slaver dumped Andrew back down next to Lioa. The albino pushed James to the ground. Lioa threw his Gurdurr forwards. With a thud it shrieked to protect him. It went to charge the Aggron but was quickly tossed to the ground with a thud. It had fainted. Lioa reached for his second team member but was quickly slapped across the face and slammed into the wall by the albino man. "Kill him James." James nodded to the sound. He reached into his pocket once more to summon Okta. As he threw her into the air his hand slipped on the catch. The slaver reached forward and with a smooth movement snatched Okta from the air. "Let's see, oh, an Onix? That's very rare. What about this? A Klink? That's not so much in value,” the albino scoffed. “Deino? Shame, Zweilous neck is a delicacy. I don't know if I can wait that long. Look Miroko, this little warrior has two. A Staravia and a Gurdurr," he laughed, as he kicked Lioa and Andrew. James's head screamed. All he could hear was the voice telling him to do dreadful things to these men. James could see a shadow in the distance as his head dizzied and the pain of his Gengar bite increased. He heard a word. Just one word. "Psychic." James felt a vast wave of energy blast past him and quickly found himself pushed over by the sheer physical presence in the air caused by the psychic move. How could he feel a psychic move physically? "Have mercy!" the men screamed. They pulled themselves to their feet and scurried away as fast as they could, dropping Okta. A tall man stood at the end of the ally way. Behind him stood a Pokémon which James had never seen before. Its ears were pointed. Its head appeared to be quite large. It hovered cross legged above the ground. The man said something to the creature and it nodded before returning to its ball. The man then stepped out of the dark and towards James. His zaffre blue hair was tied back into a short pony tail. His steel blue eyes were wide. His skin was fair and not freckled and seemingly without scars. "Are you four okay? I hope they didn't harm you." He smiled and offered a hand to James who looked back at him with a rather puzzling look. The man wore a grey-white shirt and a rose red tie. His trousers were soot black. He wore a beige jumper which appeared to have a knitted pattern over his shirt and tucked was into his trousers. "What are your names?" he asked, smiling only to receive blank looks. It took Lioa a moment or two to pick up the courage to speak, "No one takes down slavers. No one. They are too strong. Even the Lords avoid them. Who are you? How did you do that? You sound weird... like you have a weird accent. Are you from the South? I hate the South. I hate you. Stay away from us if you are a bad person like them. The South is full of evil people." Lioa spoke so quickly, he had run out of breath by the end of his rant. "My name is Clarence. I used Psychic because my Pokémon is a psychic type and there is no better way to make a statement to these types of people than by defeating them. I am not a Lord and therefore I will do something about them especially when they go after children. It disgusts me. I am from the border between the North and South. You shouldn't judge people by where they are from," the man said. "Where on the border?" Lioa scowled. "Between Kiro and Llirok," he answered. "Which Lord is better? Madison or Piscar?" James's eyes narrowed. This man could be a spy. Or he could be a generic arsehole. Or what scared James most of all was that this man could be genuine. He wasn't sure. "Each Lord has merits and failings. Piscar is younger. He has had to fight hard to survive throughout his whole life and as a result he is quick to make judgements. Be it good or bad ones. Madison is older. He has more experience. He knows when to back away from certain situations. However, he is arrogant. He won't back away if he is convinced he is correct. Hence the war," he spoke softly but he seemed confident in what he was saying. James stared at him. "Now, who am I speaking to? Also where are you going? I do not think it would be wise of me to let you wander off alone." "I am James, the short one is Lioa," Lioa rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at his description. "The mute is Kitiku and the other one is Andrew. We are going somewhere near Akrat," James cautiously answered. "Vague..." Clarence turned his head slightly and squinted for a moment. His expression was of clear suspicion. "I suspect that means you are going to do something you shouldn't. Perhaps going to a certain banned festival? Which also happens to be where I am going." Kitiku tugged James's arm before pointing to his knuckle on his right little finger and then running his left index finger along the top of the same little finger. "You can hear but do not speak. How... interesting. You are right. Perhaps that was too open of me." He looked with kind eyes towards James, "However, judging by your attitudes towards meeting me I doubt you would reveal to any Southern solider or Elite Guard my intentions. So... It would be definitely safer for you to travel with me." Clarence stepped forward so his moustache short, somewhat thin moustache was visible. Kitiku felt short standing next to him. "I could have handled it. Okta and I will win the festival because we are stronger than everyone. Including you," James blurted out angrily. "No, I am stronger than you and I am going to win!" Lioa snarled. "Yeah. Lioa is going to win James." Andrew joined in. James pushed Lioa. "No I am going to win!" James shouted. Lioa shunted back even harder. "No. Me." "No. Me." James pushed back. Clarence started laughing. "What is so funny?" Lioa shouted. "Competition is good. How about focusing on getting there first, however? Time is running out," Clarence laughed. Kitiku yawned in the background. "Someone is tired already. That won't help you battle. Will it Kitiku?" He reached out a hand to Kitiku, who appeared puzzled by the gesture. Traditionally, my dear off-islanders, it is considered vile to shake hands in the North. Instead crossing the top half of your right arm with that of the person you are speaking to is considered polite. "Kitiku doesn't battle he just sits there and looks pretty," Lioa smirked, "He isn't good at anything. He just tags along with us because he has to. If Pierre was still alive then..." "If it wasn't for Kitiku we wouldn't even know where we are going!" James snapped back. "Hey, mister?" James said softly. His eyes shined with curiosity. "What was that? I mean I know it was something like mind-blast, but what was that creature? I have never seen one before. I know a lot of things and that wasn't one of them." The man paused for a moment allowing James to catch up and stand beside him. "That was Hishrak. My closest, but not oldest, friend. My oldest friend is called Barook. He is a Braviary. What about you? Have any close non-human friends?" "Okta. She is an Onix. She is the strongest Onix ever. We will prove that to this small world. Then people will treat me better and her too. She is yellow-orange. I've never met another Onix like her," James said. "Well mister. I have a Deino. Deino is blind so they need help finding food and things," Andrew answered cautiously. "What else do you have other than Braviary?" “Now that would be telling,” he said, smiling back. Hishrak and I have been through a lot together. We have seen a lot of conflict. Conflict passes with time. Wounds heal, not just physical ones but emotional ones too." Clarence paused. James shrugged quickly as an answer to his statement. "You don't trust me? It is completely understandable. I have seen a Deino before, in case you were curious. When I was growing up they were a pretty popular dragon type, as was Bagon. Have you boys ever seen a Salamence?” All four nodded with certainty. "Impressive. What about a Samurott?" he asked as the group walked through a rather crowded area. "Stupid Guards use those," James blurted out and then quickly looked down to the ground in an attempt to prevent the inevitable. An Elite Guard had clearly overheard James. He carefully approached. His left hand stretched across his middle to his sword. His right hand lay on his leading Pokémon. "Okay... let's all calm down." Clarence stepped forward. His eyes fixed firmly on the Lord’s dark grey eyes. "We mean no disrespect. This is my nephew. He has Starly's disease... he is very sad at the moment because his doctor was arrested. Something to do with Houndoom horns." "That runt needs to learn respect, as do you. You didn’t bow to me either, scum. That boy challenged me. He shall face the penalties!" the Lord barked attempting to grab Clarence by the throat. Clarence stepped back to avoid the angry swing. A few other nearby Elite Guards had their attention now fixed on the coming dispute. "Unless you want to take his place?" the Southern Guard finished, irritated his grab had just been dodged. He gripped his sword once more. "Why do we not just have a calm discussion about this instead? It is better for everyone that way. We don't die, your Pokémon won't use up energy and your sword won't need cleaning afterwards..." Clarence said softly. His eyes were flicking between the boys and the Guard. He wasn't worried or nervous. James knew those eyes. This man had a plan. The Lord loosened his grip on his sword. "I have many gratitude hearts." He responded and their conversation became quiet. "James that made no sense," James looked at Kitiku who was clearly thinking, "Gratitude hearts?" James looked puzzled. His face almost looked as if it was in a stupor. "No one says gratitude hearts. No one. It’s weird. I like him, but I don't trust him. If we could just..."Kitiku whispered. "He seems okay. I am sticking with him. Besides, he actually knows where we are going!" James growled. He felt angry. The emotional swelling inside of him was getting bigger and bigger by the minute. Kitiku returned a saddened look. "You are not a disappointment... it is just good to be around someone who actually knows something... I mean... I... I don't know what to say," James’s words ran into each other. "We are all ready to continue. I just had to do a little explaining." Clarence smiled calmly. His aura was so strong even I could feel it. With every sandy step they came closer to leaving Akrat. Kitiku couldn't wait to be out of there. Every passing minute he became more and more stressed. James sighed as he looked at Okta. Before he could prevent himself he gasped in agony as the bite on his leg issued a sharp burn. "Are you okay?" Clarence asked. James nodded. James wished he could scream, but screaming is for those who are too weak to face their fate. He had no choice but to proceed through the gates of Akrat into the wilderness once more with the group.
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Oct 23, 2018 22:08:47 GMT
Well, it's been a while! Sorry about that. D: Still, no time like the present to get caught up! First off, this is quite a good chapter for character; you start with those dreams, where James dreams of power and Kitiku dreams of the safest kind of adventure, and as we go on there's a fair few moments where the boys' personalities (and limitations) come to the fore. Like that moment where Lioa is like nobody takes down slavers, they're too strong, and clearly he believes that, despite the fact that these were what? Four guys and an aggron? Some competent fighters and pokémon could have handled them no problem, or indeed one man with one pokémon, as happened here. Sure, Clarence is very competent, but he can't be the only one around who knows how to take care of himself. So like – the way that Lioa believes in Clarence's exceptionalness here is a clear mark of how little he really knows beyond the stories he's told, I think.
And then just after that, as Lioa tries to figure out how Clarence fits into those story, he gets stressed and defaults to that habitual master-or-be-mastered xenophobia, too. There's a clear sense of someone struggling to deal with a thing they haven't been taught how to deal with. Which is connected, I think, to that whole thing with James just resolutely ignoring his eldritch injury, which culminates in that very cool part at the end where he wishes he could scream but stops himself with what is obviously an aphorism he's learned from the culture he's grown up with. Again, there's this sense of someone running up against the limits of the stories they were told, and it helps to give this chapter a bit of focus.
I also think that the level of detail is getting a bit more manageable. Perhaps you still tend towards the odd infodump here and there, but it's coming in smaller chunks that are much easier to swallow, so that's excellent progress there!
Anyway, the plot is certainly making progress, huh. It looks like the gang's getting closer to this illegal festival; I can only assume they'll be finding a way to screw that up sometime soon! Good thing they've acquired Clarence, though, even if he is a bit mysterious and suspicious. I didn't exactly rate their chances of making it through unscathed without some assistance, judging by how they handled their last adventure! :P
Your dialogue punctuation is still a little shaky here and there; I think the biggest issue is confusing full stops with commas. Here's what I mean:
The dialogue isn't joined to the attribution – that full stop after 'said' should be a comma.
And here, that ought to be a full stop after 'said', as the next line of dialogue is a new sentence rather than a continuation of the one prior to the tag. Also, that comma should be inside the quotation marks, not outside it.
Anyway, these two things recur quite a bit so I thought I'd point them out! Finally, as usual, here are some more specific notes I made as I read through:
I feel like your use of 'puckered' doesn't quite make sense to me; did you perhaps mean 'suckered'?
These should be one sentence, joined with a comma where that full stop is. Also, that 'much to the X of Y' expression generally refers to the feeling itself, rather than the physical expression of it, so this would more properly be 'Much to Kitiku's disgust' or something like that.
You hyphenate double-digit numbers, but not triple-digit ones, if that makes sense. An example: you'd write 'thirty-six' with a hyphen, but 'three hundred', without one. You would, however, write 'three hundred and thirty-six', with a hyphen in the 'thirty-six' but not the 'three hundred'.
Repeating 'cry' like that within one short sentence is a bit much, I think.
Missing a blank line between these paragraphs.
That hyphen shouldn't be there, and there should be a comma after 'James'. Also, this is like the most James thing ever, being surprised that he got outsmarted by an adult. Love it.
There should be a comma after 'moment', and also those quotation marks shouldn't be there.
This happens a fair bit, where you say someone's face or whatever looked like something, instead of the person themself. It would read more naturally, and feel less unnecessarily verbiose, to just apply that to the person – so here, that would be 'He almost looked as if he was in a stupor'.
Not a mistake, but! This is interesting. Our mysterious narrator was there, and apparently either at a distance or otherwise just not very good at sensing auras. Fascinating stuff.
That's all for now. I'll be waiting for next time!
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Jan 19, 2019 18:59:16 GMT
ᚴ "You son of a bitch. What worth have you? All I see is a criminal. A traitor. Go to hell, Clarence!" - Mylious Jackson, 1975, Kirot-Akalt ᚴ
Part 1
After a walk, the five stood together looking into what would seem to be the abyssal desert. It was far from it. Clarence raised his hand up and placed it against something. Something that mirrored the desert behind them. James and Lioa looked at him impatiently.
“It is a trick-room. A very old kind of trick-room,” Clarence said, “Trick-room is usually used to reverse the speeds of Pokémon. This, on the other hand, is used to reflect speed, time and space. How clever. It is the mirror we seek. The mirror in the desert. Only a very old, very powerful Pokémon could create such a shield. It’s so perfect.”
Lioa went to speak but was cut off.
“You want to know how to get in, don’t you Lioa? I do too.” Clarence’s gaze remained focused on the invisible field. “Let’s think on it for a moment. The festival is about being courageous. Therefore we need to do something courageous to get inside. Who wants to go first?”
James stepped forward, tired and silent.
“Excellent. Step forward,” Clarence gestured.
“I just did,” James grumbled before the request clicked, “I understand. By stepping forward I’m being brave because I am stepping into the unknown. Therefore I can enter.” He took a deep breath. “Okta, just you and me forever.” He was transported to a vague dimension. The air seemed thick and he felt dizzied. A few minutes must have passed before Clarence, Kitiku, Lioa and Andrew joined him. The ground was glowing blue and red. A shaded figure approached him, James gulped and readied Okta for combat.
“Welcome to the abyss. We apologise for the field, but did you know there is a new Captain going to Fehahra? Apparently Lord Piscar sent him himself. He is going to be brutal, I know it already.” The woman shivered thinking about it. “Are you all friends or family?” She shut down the protective field to display a vibrant area filled with food stalls, games and a large group of people. I would personally estimate around 2000 people.
“I would like to think we are friends,” Andrew spoke up. “We are here to win. Well, I am going to win.”
“Name is Grektox. If you think you will win, runt, you also believe Cresselia and Darkrai are real. I am from Kiro, a real town,” A medium height man with a green streak through his short brown hair perked up. He jumped off the barrel he had been
sitting on. Smirking. His eyes were cold.
“I have never seen you in Kiro. I have lived near there. Your accent is more Southern,” Clarence said suspiciously.
Grektox was thrown off by the statement and quickly disappeared into the crowd.
“People like him make me sick to my stomach. He would happily throw anyone to the slavers or the Elite Guard to please his masters.” James looked into Clarence’s eyes as his blue eyes narrowed.
“Do you think he is the new Captain of Fehahra?” Lioa asked.
“It is possible. However, why here? Here seems a bit out of the way.” Clarence reached over to sign in at the desk. Upon signing his sheet he folded it up into a triangle and submitted it into the challenger’s box. He handed the pen over to James. “I
will leave you boys now. I fancy some food.”
James quickly signed in and handed the pen down the line.
“Those who believe in Darkrai have a massive advantage over the Cresselia group, due to the fast, even though battling starts tomorrow. Good luck. I hope we get to battle each other at some point.” Clarence smiled and walked off in the direction of the food booths.
James’s eyes were on all the colours that were painted on the signs. They swirled and expressed emotion, like a dance. He was lost in the moment.
Kitiku gently tugged down on James’s shirt.
“Huh? Lioa and Andrew are off to get food right? Why don’t we go give gifts to Cresselia?” James walked with his friend along the dusty sandy path past all the shops and stalls. All the food stalls gave off an enticing smell. James could hear the food
cooking and crackling as they walked past. The bite on his leg ached and his stomach grumbled.
Kitiku suddenly stopped walking. A man stood in front of them. His back was turned as he chomped down on a Qwilfish that had been cooked and run through with a small pike. His blue shirt had wet patches in places due to his sweat. It didn’t help that his shirt was tucked into his beige shorts.
“Excuse me, you are in the way,” James said calmly.
The man didn’t appear to have heard him as he chomped into a second Qwilfish on a pike.
“Hey, excuse me?” James repeated.
There was still no response.
James feeling frustrated at being ignored shouted out as loud as he could, “Excuse me mister. Can you please move out of our way? We are trying to get through to the idols.” James shunted the man forward. The blonde haired man turned around.
“You? How did you get here? What are you doing here? Haven’t you got something better to do that follow us?” James blurted.
“I could easily return all of those questions,” Sutton said, flustered about having his disguise blown. “You are in so much trouble when I take you back to Fehahra once I report the entire activities here to the new Captain.”
“Why does he care? Akrat isn’t his responsibility!” James shouted. A few faces in the crowd turned to see what the commotion was about.
“Lord Piscar wants this shut down. As his personal favourite soldier in the North he was sent here to resolve all resistance activities in which a person or persons from Fehahra may be participating in. Regardless of the location of the crime. Now please be quiet,” Sutton whispered in a panic. Slurring his sentences into a slurry of Colrat and Elkrat. “Why aren’t you in Fehahra?”
“I am competing and I am going to win. Then I will crush the South myself. You are murderers.” James felt enraged that someone, he would consider as dumb-witted as Sutton had made it into the festival grounds.
“Is that really the best thing you could think up?” Sutton raised a single eyebrow which enraged James even more. “How about when we get back to Fehahra I hand you straight over to the new Captain? He will have gathered evidence of you being here already. As he is here, somewhere. He will have all of these people thrown in prison. I will get a promotion.”
“If you keep talking you will get thrown out,” Lioa said calmly from behind Sutton. He jumped out of his skin. “In fact why don’t I call you out right now? What are you going to do about it? Blowing your cover to some kids is more likely to get you demoted or sent to the front line where Lord Madison will gladly crush and kill you.”
Sutton scowled, but his jaw dropped.
“Yeah, Sutton.” Andrew added.
“So what are you going to do Sutton? Why shouldn’t we blow your cover?” Lioa smirked.
Sutton was still stunned.
“I am waiting for an answer Sutton. Why shouldn’t we get rid of you? Andrew and I want payback for yesterday. You let that Guard hit us,” the short boy laughed a little as he spoke.
“Lioa, one day you will understand. I was doing my job.” Sutton turned around and gently ushered Lioa and Andrew to the same side as James and Kitiku. “Let’s sit down over there.” He pointed to a piece of ground by the back of the stalls “We can talk there in peace and quiet.”
The boys followed him. Lioa crossed his arms impatiently as they walked. Although it took them no more than a minute or two, Sutton had noticed Lioa’s growing agitation.
“Do not misunderstand me. I want this fighting to stop just as much as you. I believe the island should be free from war. Do you understand?” Sutton sighed.
“Of course. I am not stupid like you,” Lioa scoffed. “Do you have a point? I want you to pay!”
“Lioa,” Sutton’s face turned stern and his eyes narrowed. “We make these rules for a reason. We don’t want any more innocent people getting hurt. This festival is dangerous. People and Pokémon die at this festival.”
“That’s why we gift the idols,” James said. “They protect us from that.”
“When you have been injured by a Pokémon I don’t want to sit by your hospital bedside and watch the Guard decide your life isn’t worth maintaining.” Sutton looked genuinely concerned. “I won’t let you compete. Kitiku I thought you would have known better. Besides, you won’t make it past the first round. You are kids. Most of these competitors have much more experience than you.”
“Okay. Let’s make a bet,” James lit up at the opportunity to try and beat Sutton at his own argument.
“Betting is illegal,” the man spat.
“Being here is illegal,” James answered back.
Sutton found himself in a position which he couldn’t argue.
“We could easily claim you are from Kiro, on the border. I reckon you don’t have your identity on you so you would be in as much trouble as us,” James smirked.
Sutton’s meticulous planning had suddenly blown up in his face.
“So here is what I propose. If one of us makes it through the first round you let us compete until we get eliminated and then you forget we were here. If we all lose in the first round you can throw us all in jail and throw away the key. Deal?” James said.
“No. If you all lose the first round you fix the mess you made in Fehahra and you set an example in good behaviour for the rest of the North to follow until this war is over,” Sutton scowled.
“Fine,” Lioa said, “we won’t lose.”
“I worry about you kids more than you know,” Sutton paused.
Kitiku gently rested his head on Sutton’s arm.
“In a few hours I think entry will be closed to applicants. I guess until then I should keep an eye on you boys,” Sutton sighed.
Kitiku squeezed Sutton’s arm.
“I never asked. Are you feeling better?” Sutton asked.
Kitiku nodded.
“Silent as ever,” the man remarked.
Kitiku nodded again.
“I guess one day you will pick up the courage to speak to me. That is what your name means right? Courage,” Sutton whispered.
Kitiku nodded.
“Incaresta means the shining light. Lioa means berserker, or uncontrolled soldier,” Lioa looked at Incaresta Sutton with intrigue, as he spoke, “Hamés and Andrew are names that were born before even Master Gere Filktas walked upon this world. What a small world it is.”
“Hamés isn’t my name you know. My name is James,” James scowled.
“Another border dweller? I don’t trust him, unless you know him,” Clarence was holding the Northern snack of Kikirotiki.
Kikirotiki is usually constructed from ice cubes cut into spirals and is dusted with sugar and berry seeds.
“His accent sounds too Southern,” His eyes narrowed in on Sutton.
“We know this idiot,” Lioa said.
“I see. Well, in that case allow me to introduce myself. I am Clarence.” He offered a hand out to shake Sutton’s hand.
Sutton declined the hand shake. He opted to raise his arm up to cross the top half with Clarence.
“Okay, maybe he is genuine. I doubt the South would employ that many soldiers who care about Northern customs. Kikirotiki?” He offered.
Sutton’s heart was racing. He had almost had his cover blown. He imagined what would have happened if it had. Firstly, an angry Northern mob would surround him. They would punch and kick him until he was bleeding and unconscious. Then they would feed him to a hungry Aggron.
“I guess you aren’t hungry. What is your name again?” Clarence asked.
“Incare…” he started. Before finishing his name he realised that if he said his name was Incaresta one of two things would happen. Firstly, he could be called a woman and publicly humiliated, or secondly, and more likely, his Southern nationality
would be discovered. Incaresta was an uncommon name. It was also only used in the South. “Incarero”, he finished.
James’s jaw dropped.
Sutton had just screwed up his own name completely. Not disguised it like he should have.
“Incarero Sultan,” Sutton grasped at straws for a last name.
“Incarero Sultan, ruler of the lamppost,” Clarence said.
Sutton blushed. He felt so embarrassed. His lack of understanding of the Northern language had foiled him again.
“Well, I guess we should be off to the battler’s dressing tables. I wish you luck Incarero,” Clarence said, smiling.
Incaresta, blushing, stood up. He thought back to his first days in the North as a soldier. He had gotten lost on the way to Fehahra after accidentally getting on the wrong Sawsbuck coach. He ended up in Akrat. The slavers took advantage of his nervousness and lack of experience.
Part 2
It was pitch black all around. Incaresta held his Litwick in a jar close to his chest. The sand was whipping up all around him and the slave song sounds were all he could hear. His Southern uniform made him heavy as he was wearing the uniform’s thick outdoor coat. The coat was deep grey and made out Stoutland fur. Of course, this fur was not ideal for Northern weather, particularly in Akrat. He ventured around the dead town. The sandstorm was starting to pick up. The little shimmering sandy flecks were getting in his eyes. He couldn’t see anymore. In a desperate bid to seek shelter he stretched out his right hand, desperate to feel for a house, or an alleyway. Somewhere he could bunker down for the night until he could get his bearings. He felt something in front of him. He gripped it tightly. It felt like a wooden fence. He eased himself into the alleyway and sat down. All of a sudden he heard footsteps from behind and then a roar. A giant Aggron had been released and had lifted him off the ground. Its master, a slaver, was laughing at the soldier who had been rendered even more useless. The Litwick in the jar fell to the ground and shattered. His lamp had floated away as quickly it could. The Aggron carried him towards a sewage drain and then dropped him inside. The clunk as Incaresta hit the ground was ear shattering. Or maybe that was just the pain in his ankle. He had sprained it badly due to his rough landing. As Incaresta went to stand himself up he was kicked back to the ground. His arms were pulled aggressively behind his back and he was blindfolded before being pulled back to his feet and forced to walk. Every minute of this was torturous. He couldn’t see where he was going and could only feel pain and hear the sounds of the slavers talking Colrat in the background. Back then, my dear off-islanders, Incaresta Sutton’s grasp of the Northern language was much poorer than at the festival. The pushing on his back stopped for a moment and he seized the moment to try and escape only to be pushed back onto the ground. His captures started to strike him. One of the punches had badly bruised his jaw. Another had broken his nose. He then heard the clicking of two metal cords. A slave collar. Incaresta started to panic. He went to cry for help but was punched again before being dealt an electric shock. He remembered every single electric shock he endured for two torturous weeks before he was rescued. Kitiku’s father had found him being loaded onto a ship at the docks. If it wasn’t for Tak Bryson, he would probably be dead or worse. Tak had fought off the slavers using Oosho. That ungrateful Octillery. He thought, if that was his Octillery, it would have released it by now. Incaresta’s thoughts then slipped to what is. Even the Lords won’t touch the slavers who reside in Akrat. Why would Tak Bryson? Maybe he did not know. Maybe he was one of them. Or maybe he has a secret. Incaresta’s mind boggled as he was deep in thought.
Part 3
“Huh?” Sutton’s arm was gently tugged by Kitiku. It was getting late. He had been in a daydream for hours, “All tired out Kitiku?” The boy yawned a large yawn and nodded. “Missing your mother too I suspect,” he whispered. “Okay. Let’s set up a camp. Where shall we sleep?” The boy quickly buried his head into Incaresta’s shirt. He placed his left hand on Kitiku’s shoulder and gently pushed him away from his chest only to have his hand taken straight away. “Kitiku, you can’t be so clingy. You are thirteen years old. You don’t need to hold my hand do you?” Sutton sighed as he accepted the fact Kitiku wasn’t going to let go. ‘This nervous child,’ Sutton thought, ‘he won’t last five minutes in the world on his own.’ “You can speak to me whenever you want. You know that.” “Y-Yes,” Kitiku whispered. His grey eyes appeared more void than before. “Mister Sutton?” “Hmm?” Incaresta stopped walking. “Y-Y-You won’t r-really let the n-n-n-new Captain p-punish us, w-will you?” Kitiku sniffled, “P-please? I-I-I-I am sc-sc-scared.” He heard tears in the young boy’s voice. “You broke the rules. You are very lucky that that doctor yesterday didn’t have you punished. Lioa and Andrew were both punished severely for what they had done. I regretted letting them be punished like that. However, if I was to have argued I would have faced something far worse,” he said. “S-So y-you w-w-would let the n-n-new Captain k-k-kill us?” the boy said, stuttering. Sutton saw tears starting to run down Kitiku’s face as he spoke. He had to think of something quickly. The guilt was starting to eat him from the inside out. “Kitiku, why don’t you pick somewhere to sleep? I will keep watch all night. No one will kill you. Okay?” He would have crouched down to make Kitiku feel bigger, but Kitiku was already tall and felt like a freak. Making him feel taller would have had the opposite effect to feeling safe and comfortable. Much to his relief Kitiku drew a circle in the air with his fingers. “P-Promise?” Kitiku said while signing. “I give you my word.” Both of them let out a large sigh of relief. ‘It was hard to communicate with Kitiku,’ Sutton thought. ‘The boy rarely talks’. In fact this was the longest conversation he had had with him. “You are a good boy Kitiku.” The two sat down together. Sutton pushed his fingers through his hair, which had appeared to have a small dune of sand in. Kitiku shuffled over to Sutton and rested his head on his shoulder. He slowly closed his eyes and yawned once more. “Go to sleep now. Soon the morning will bring new adventures. Also the tournament starts tomorrow. I hope that Lioa, James and Andrew do okay,” Sutton whispered. “We will,” James responded. Lioa stood arms-crossed on his left and Andrew on James’s right. Clarence stood behind the boys. His hand was resting against his chin. “We were thinking we should spend the night out here with you and Kitiku instead, Incarero.” Sutton scowled for a brief moment as Lioa sniggered, then he raised his right hand a little to let the group know they had to be quieter. “Kitiku is exhausted. All the excitement from yesterday has really messed his energy up. Even his Klink is tired.” He listened carefully as the boy breathed lightly. His eyes then snapped up to Clarence who was looking suspiciously at him. “I still think your accent sounds too Southern. Incarero. Why don’t you tell the truth? You were raised in Mesk. Your accent says it all,” Clarence said. “What’s Mesk?” Andrew asked. “Mesk is a mining town near Kishnar. The Elite Zone. It is too far inside the Southern border to be classed as a border town,” Clarence calmly answered. “Judging by your thick accent I will also hazard a guess that Incarero isn’t your real name. It is possibly Mylious, or Kirkit or maybe even Incaresta. I think the last one sounds pretty obvious. You boys covered for this Southern imposter.” “You know an awful lot about the South. All your accusations are false,” Sutton said in a panic. He was sweating more so than in the heat. “I am thirty-nine years old. I have fought in so many battles between our Elite Lords. You learn a thing or two. You are a young soldier trying to be a hero. I tell you as someone who has witnessed some atrocities, that being a hero gets you killed,” Clarence smirked. “It would be cruel to let you die to a mob.” Sutton sigh. He had lost. Kitiku stirred a little at the noise. “Kitiku, go back to sleep okay?” Sutton held Kitiku tightly with his left arm. He watched as the boy pressed his head harder into his shoulder. Clarence sat down quietly and carefully. Andrew wandered over to Incaresta Sutton and sat down next to him. “I suppose you want this arm?” he said, offering his right shoulder as a pillow. Andrew pressed his wrist into his eye to rub them as he nodded. He leaned against Incaresta. “What are you going to do?” “Nothing. I want to know about you,” Clarence smiled, “I am surprised you didn’t compete.” “Oh. My Pokémon and I we don’t battle unless we have to. Battling isn’t something I am particularly skilled in,” he laughed a fake laugh quietly and then added, “Seems like most things I do I lack skill in”. “The kids seem to like you. Do you have a family of your own?” Clarence remarked. “A wife and two kids. My little girl is four and my little boy is two. He has a Machop, she has an Oshawott. I can’t believe how quickly they grow up,” Sutton sighed. “My eldest would have been twenty-two this year,” Clarence replied. “You have a family too?” Sutton asked, with a curious peak in his accent. “Indeed. When it boils down to it, the flag we stand in front of, be it blue or green doesn’t matter. We are all one people united in front of a purple flag. Stand two young children, the age of your little girl next to each other. One from the North and one from the South and they know no difference. Stand two grown men next to each other, one from the North and one from the South and expect some caution to be had.” Clarence allowed Lioa and James to rest their heads on his shoulders. “These kids are exhausted. They have come a long way. They almost got enslaved. Slavers are such a big problem. The Lords need to do something about it.” “It’s none of my business,” Incaresta said hesitantly. “They need to stop the slavery of children for sure. Adults maybe not yet.” Clarence, intrigued listened harder. “I guess if they suddenly removed slavery altogether there would be a complete and utter break down of society. It is part of how the world works. It cannot continue, but it is something that has been around our entire lives.” “Over-freeing society too quickly would cause a complete collapse, I agree.” Clarence’s blue eyes met Incaresta’s green eyes. “We should get some sleep. You will take first watch.” “You do not fear me running away?” Sutton said, warily. “With those kids pinning you down asleep, and your emotions tied to making them stay asleep? No. Nor do I fear you trying to kill me. Again, you wouldn’t let these children be traumatised. It is clear to me that as a father you wouldn’t want these kids to go through anything your kids could.” Clarence rested his head against a rock and closed his eyes. ‘He wasn’t asleep yet’, Sutton thought. He was right though. Three of the children who lay asleep tonight under his watch were on their final warnings. He looked up to see the stars and the moon. “You are so clean tonight. No clouds or darkness, no secrets hidden anymore. Just the clear blue sky and its shining lights in all its glory,” Sutton whispered in his native tongue. “Mehal, I hope our kids are okay. I hope you are okay. I love you.” He closed his eyes and softly whispered, “Giratina, ruler of our fate please forgive me for I have sinned. It has been four years since my last confession. I have betrayed my Lord tonight and the night before. My body is possessed with the need to complete orders, my mind is confused. It hides lies, guilt and treachery. I am a bad man Giratina. I shall offer you the most sacred of gifts as an apology for my betrayal.” Sutton reached into his pocket, carefully avoiding Andrew, who snored a silent snore. He pulled out a photo of his wife and kids and tore it in half. Then tore it again, so it became a quarter of what it once was. “I offer you to share in my heart. I hope that is enough.” Clarence listened to the man speaking in Elkrat. He liked Sutton’s attitude to sacrificial offerings.
Pokémon Seen {Spoiler}  |
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Feb 3, 2019 9:51:03 GMT
A trick room hiding the secret battle festival! That's really cool; I love when people make use of the weirder status moves, and especially when they go for the space-warping stuff. You can do really interesting things with like, gothitelle and other pokémon that canonically have these powers, and this is one of them. I wonder how secret the festival really is? Sutton's there; is he the only spy keeping an eye on things? Perhaps the fact that it's invisible lets the ruling elite pretend this thing doesn't exist, and they just keep an eye on it with their agents to make sure nothing gets too out of hand.
Speaking of Sutton, I really like how you develop him further in this chapter. We've already had a lot of hints that he's not the man James thinks he is, and those are pretty firmly solidified here; he's kind, empathetic, and mostly pretty competent, aside from his occasional linguistic slip-up. Like he managed to get here, after all. What I like most about it is the subtlety: we're constantly being told through James that Sutton's incompetent and evil, but every time we actually see the man ourselves, he comes across as a decent sort of bloke. Coltar really messes with people's heads, huh.
I feel like the way you integrate information into the story has really improved, too. For the most part, I really didn't feel at any point like I was having a bunch of raw facts chucked into my face; everything came out really naturally, either when it was appropriate or through conversations between characters. Excellent work!
In fact, I think my major critique is probably stylistic. Sometimes you could use a bit more punctuation to help guide your readers through your sentences, so they'd flow better, and also your dialogue in particular could benefit from a few more contractions and colloquialisms. You're a little light in both these areas, and the combination gives your dialogue a sort of stilted effect. Example:
The words tell me that this is meant as a rude, dismissive sort of comment – but without more punctuation, it takes extra effort to figure out how it's meant to actually sound. Adding commas around runt (which is grammatically necessary anyway), and maybe an exclamation mark at the end, has an immediate effect:
It's much easier to see the rhythm of the speech now. But it still sounds a bit formal for what it is, an offhand comment intended to silence a kid with shame; contracting 'you will' to 'you'll' or altering it to the more colloquial and informal 'you're gonna' would change that:
These are little things, I know, but that's why I mention them – these small details are what help dialogue make the leap from something that sounds written to something you can hear being said in your imagination as you read.
Anyway, as usual, I'll finish up with some typos and things that I picked up on:
Quality goes before colour when stringing adjectives together like this, so it should be 'short brown hair'.
This seems an odd choice of word to me. Don't they have the concept of skewers in Coltar?
This one happens a lot – when you've got some dialogue that joins onto a 'she said' or whatever, then it needs to end with a comma, not a full stop. Like this:
You're missing an 'of' here.
Because the litwick is the subject of the sentence, this reads like the litwick is shattering, rather than the jar. Rephrasing it so that the jar is the subject (“The jar containing the litwick fell to the ground and shattered”) would solve the issue.
That should be 'in', rather than 'into'.
That full stop should be within the quotation marks, not outside them.
That should be 'altogether'. Also, this is an interesting point; it seems related to some of the reasoning used by the British when they tried to give freedom by degrees – neither understanding that freedom can only be taken, not given, nor truly aware of what it is to dangle emancipation in front of someone like that. Historically, that plan didn't work out very well; I wonder if things would go any differently in Coltar.
That's about all from me for this time. Nicely done! I look forward to seeing the festival get going in earnest next time!
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Feb 3, 2019 21:13:58 GMT
ᚥ "'What makes you and I different?' You ask. 'Aren't we just the same?' No Clarence. I am a slave. You aren't. That's what makes us different." - Mylious Jackson, 1953, Kirot-Akalt ᚥ
Part 1
The sun glared down upon those sleeping in the desert. The water that had been left out the previous day had dried up completely. James stretched his arms and legs as he stirred from his deep sleep, since Clarence had let the boy sleep on his shoulder all night. He looked at Incaresta. His eyes were sleepy. ‘The fool had stayed up all night,’ James thought. Clarence, awake, looked at James. Without a word he pushed the hair from Lioa’s face and watched as James got up from the ground and nudged Andrew awake. Both had been selected to compete in one of the opening battles of the tournament. Clarence carefully picked up Lioa, and threw him over his shoulder. Slowly he wandered over to Incaresta, who had lost the feeling in his arm due to Kitiku squeezing it too hard. He crouched down, holding Lioa. Silently he placed Lioa on the soldier’s right shoulder before turning around and facing James and Andrew. “I hope you both slept well. Would you both like to get some breakfast?” Clarence asked, smiling. “With what money?” Andrew snapped, to which the man pulled a few coins from his pocket. “Oh that money.” Feeling his stomach rumble Andrew quickly added, “Yes please, mister.” They wandered in the direction of the food stalls. The smell of food crackling in the morning enlightened the senses. Clarence stopped to look at some of the food on sale on the stand. The purple and white zigzag banner danced in the wind. It read ‘Fresh Meat Cuts – 1 Colkara each, Brito-Resko 1 Colkara for 2.’
Brito-Resko was made from wheat being twisted and entwined into a hex around a single large berry; usually a bitter or sweet berry was chosen as the centre piece of the meal. The golden wheat would be heated until it was solidly in place. The berry, which had been cooked inside of the wheat, would then be pierced carefully to avoid damaging the wheat pattern. Once the berry was pierced the juice would ooze out and create a sticky but comforting taste.
Clarence paid for six of the Brito-Reski and handed one to Andrew and James. Both quickly started to chew on the end trying to break the top of the wheat away in order to get the sticky juice to pour out faster. “The wind is starting to pick up,” Clarence noted. “We should probably get back to the other three and get them inside somewhere. The organisers are probably providing sand-cloaks for groups of people to pitch up and get under. I think you boys should start preparing for your match. They won’t let the match be postponed. Even if there is a sandstorm.” “Okta and I can do this. We are sandstorm-proof!” James shouted. “Good luck mister.” Clarence waved at the two boys who ran towards the battle fields as he headed into the sand-cloak. Its brown colour and lack of see-through material made it dark inside. He closed his eyes and lent against the wooden pole holding up the cloak. Kitiku and Lioa were sitting down in the corner of the cloak. He could hear Kitiku whisper to Lioa and Lioa would reply. “Would you like a drink?” Clarence asked. Incaresta simply shook his head. Drinking would make him need the bathroom, no doubt. “I have unlimited water, so if you get thirsty let me know okay?” Incaresta nodded. Clarence then sat down in the corner before releasing Hishrak. Hishrak crossed his yellow legs and floated above the ground. “My dear friend, are you ready for all of this?” he asked. His question was met with a simple rolling of the eyes. He was, peering into the future of Incaresta Sutton. Those things set in stone, like the past, and those awaiting to be set in stone. The Helobrask and Eaerk. These are words from Kilgorese, the oldest living language of the Coltese people. Hishrak had seen that by the end of the year this poor man would suffer a horrendous fate unless something was to change. Lioa’s hair flopped over his face as he shunted Kitiku to the ground. It was clear to anyone who was watching that this play-fight was only being enacted by one of the participants. Hishrak lifted one hand and pulsed a small psychic wave which pushed Lioa off of Kitiku. Kitiku, now freed, scrambled towards Incaresta Sutton who hadn’t managed to drift off to sleep. “Kitiku, please. My arm has only just gotten blood back into it,” he whispered, as his left arm was seized, “What to do with you? Want to have a battle? I will help you win.” Sutton said. He smiled his goofy smile and was met with a shrug. “So Clarence, what are the rules of this death trap?” “Well, 400 hundred competitors start off. Each competitor is only allowed 1 Pokémon. The four fastest victors in the first round get to skip the second round. So the four hundred competitors are assigned a number. One to one hundred. Once four people have that number that is a round. Therefore there are one hundred four-way matches. These matches are free fire.” Sutton paused to try and understand the nature of the competition. “So only one makes it through?” he queried. “No. Two go through from round one. Then they battle each other after all the rest of round one is finished. That makes the field cleaner and fairer,” Clarence explained. “After the victors have had their one on one matches then the fastest victors rule is active. So the four fastest winners from round one, not two, get a bypass. So only ninety-six battlers are in round three.” Sutton looked confused. “Round three is a three way battle. Thirty-two competitors go through. So only thirty-six competitors remain, Round four is a four way battle leaving eighteen competitors. Still following?” “Er… four-hundred to two hundred. Two hundred to ninety six and four. Then thirty-six, then eighteen. I think so,” Sutton said in thought. “Now, eighteen become nine. The fastest victor gets a bypass to the final. There are then two round of four way battles and then the final,” Clarence finished. “Stepping over the line is a disqualification and ties are an instant rematch if caused by the same attack?” Sutton asked. “That’s it. You understand it.” Clarence smiled at him. “Hopefully it won’t be too dangerous,” Incaresta said, concerned.
Part 2
James sat in the locker room. The white walls had faded into a murky grey. The pain in his leg was clouding his thoughts. Grektox sat a few feet away. He was in the fifth match of the day. Lioa had been drawn for one of the middle matches. Clarence had been selected for the final match. James thought how lucky he was to be picked for the one of the opening matches. The clean sandy battle field would have clear white lines. The sand would be soft to stand on. The crowd would cheer (if they braved the sandstorm). Two minutes until he fought. There was no going back, but he didn’t want to go back. He was here to win. James saw Andrew was talking to his Deino. The best case scenario was for him and Andrew to work together to make it through the first round. This best case scenario was never going to happen though. A lady with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes stood a metre away from him. She was wearing a silk brown scarf that danced whenever she walked. Her shirt was white and sleeveless. It ran into her dark red long skirt which covered her ankles and shoes. Despite her somewhat glamourous appearance, her Pokémon was an Aggron. Aggron is a common Pokémon for labourers. His other opponent hadn’t said a word since he sat in the locker room. James didn’t know his name, or what his Pokémon was. A voice called out into the locker room. It was time. James stood calmly in his trainer’s box marked out by a white sticky substance, most probably Galvantula’s sticky web. The flag was dropped. James threw Okta onto the field and she landed with a thud almost crushing her capsule. Andrew’s Deino snarled and Aggron roared. The mysterious man sent out a Grovyle. Immediately James knew Grovyle was his biggest threat. Grovyle had to go down before the one on one stage. He couldn’t do it with Okta, but he could use Aggron as a shield. The lady called out a command to Aggron who immediately went after Grovyle. It lashed out with metal claw but was easily side stepped and hit with leaf blade. The dust on the field spewed into the air violently. Grovyle’s attention snapped to the dragon raging Deino and used X-Scissor. Nutkio was pushed back by the attack. She struggled to stay standing from the sheer amount of damage. She was dizzy. Her blood was starting to drip from the wound. “Okta, use screech!” James shouted. Okta took a giant breath in and bellowed out an ear piercing screech. Several members of the crowd held their hands over their ears and then cheered upon her stopping. “Okta, Attack Aggron! Use Dig!” Okta burrowed her way deep underground. The lady clearly didn’t hear him as she fixated her clever eyes on Grovyle. Andrew’s Deino was out for sure. It had little health left. He could easily knock it out when he attacked Aggron, but this wasn’t in his interest. He took a deep breath and pushed his hair from his face. Aggron swiped at Grovyle with another Metal Claw and missed again. It was clear the lady was starting to get frustrated. The arena burst into cheer for Grovyle. “Come on Okta… where are you?” James whispered. She was still under the field somewhere. She was waiting for the perfect moment to spring up and gain the element of surprise. In the corner of his eye James saw Aggron was powering itself up for something. It was thudding its feet on the ground. Its white body and grey underbelly were covered in sand. James took a moment to realise what was about to happen. “Okta get…!” before he could finish his command Okta burst out of the ground below the Aggron. Aggron’s instincts kicked in. It used iron head. In doing so its horn caught her as she followed through with the dig attack. She had sustained some minor damage from Aggron. Aggron on the other hand was one small attack from being out of the game. Grovyle charged towards Aggron to finish the large beast off. Andrew’s Deino, weakened, shot a dragon rage shot at the Grovyle. It singed the Grovyle’s foot causing it to crash into the ground with a thud making it now a sandy brown. Before Grovyle could get back up Aggron issued an earthquake attack. James held his breath as the battle field shook. Andrew’s Deino fainted instantly. Grovyle had taken a lot of damage from the attack due to the screech beforehand. It was badly bruised along one side of its body. The crowd roared because of the first knock out. Okta also had taken a lot of damage from the attack. She panted tiredly. “Are you okay Okta?” James asked, worried but she turned around and roared at him. “Let’s finish this. Use iron tail on Grovyle!” The mysterious man cussed under his breath. Slowly he called out a command to Grovyle. Its eyes narrowed in on James. Without a warning it charged towards him. Okta stood between Grovyle and James. She was going to take a hit. If she took the hit she would be out of the match due to Grovyle’s grass type moves being super effective on her. Saddened, James turned towards the crowd. Sutton was there with Kitiku and Lioa. He had to do this. With a deep breath he shouted out, “Okta, use dig once more!” She dived underground. ‘This is it’, he thought. ‘Either Aggron uses earthquake again and gets a double knock out, which would force a rematch, or Grovyle goes for Aggron.’ James was wrong. Grovyle continued to charge him, as its trainer had demanded. The mysterious trainer was trying to force James to step over the line and forfeit the battle. Okta waited patiently. She listened for the sounds of the Grovyle to be right above her. Aggron and its trainer watched intently. Clearly the trainer had decided it wasn’t worth letting her Aggron take more damage. Grovyle went to scratch James across the face to get payback for the damage caused by Aggron due to the screech. Okta shot up from the ground and threw Grovyle into the air. The impact wasn’t enough. James took one last deep breath before demanding Okta to finish the green menace. Okta swung an iron tail attack at the Grovyle and hit it squarely in the chest. Grovyle rolled across the arena into the wall next to where Andrew was standing. Andrew jumped out of his skin from the thud from the Grovyle slamming into the arena wall. It was over, Grovyle had fainted. James had made it through the first round by the skin of his teeth. Sutton slumped back against the seat. He was frustrated his plans had already fallen through. Clarence, who had been watching intently was now talking to Kitiku. Kitiku was giving his usual nod or shake of the head to what was being said and occasionally saying a sentence quietly. “I guess, I lose,” Sutton muttered as Lioa came out of nowhere and shunted him. “Do I need to baby you? Look at you. You are a mess. Your hair is everywhere and you have food all over your mouth! Why can’t you be tidy like Kitiku?” “Maybe because I am not a complete coward. I will stand up to you,” Lioa barked as James attempted to climb over the stadium wall to join the group. Clarence leaned over the edge and pulled the struggling boy up. “So you won. Big deal. I won’t even let you brag. I’m taking you down as soon as I get a chance!” James was hopeful his friend would be knocked out of the tournament, just to prove he was better. The sandy seats were not comfortable to sit on. James quickly found himself standing up again. It wasn’t as if he needed to watch anymore battles. He had already decided which Pokémon to take as his victor’s prize.
A few hours passed and dusk started to approach. “So, let’s see. Currently fifty eight matches have occurred. I am in match one-hundred. So dusk. Currently there are only… 116 people through and 168 left to battle, including myself. I doubt many people will still be around at dusk to watch the final first round match. Most people would be celebrating this fine Saturday night,” Clarence was thinking aloud. Kitiku nodded to his speech to himself. James and Lioa were playing Direo du Biyo in the background. Which roughly translates to ‘death by rock’. Sutton had scolded them several times, but they would just simply ignore him. The scorching heat was clearly bothering Sutton. Clarence had already offered the Southern man several drinks of water. “Hey mister?” James shouted. Clarence, recognising the upcoming question was for him, turned around. “When it’s your turn to battle the battlefield will be a big mess, you got a plan or something?” James asked, stretching. Clarence nodded, “Something… something very special,” Clarence said calmly.
Part 3
Dusk set on the first day of the tournament. Clarence walked towards his battle box. He was calm, as always. His opponents were a young boy, and girl, who were brother and sister, and an old man who had clearly witnessed many battles in his time.
Clarence had but a moment to choose who he would rather have left standing. He decided on the girl. She looked the most nervous out of his opponents.
She would be his round two opponent.
Clarence listened to the referee, but turned to face the stands. Sutton and Kitiku were still there, James, Lioa and Andrew had left. He assumed they were up to mischief. His focus then switched back into the moment.
The moment Hishrak hit the floor the battle would be over. He could only do this stunt once and now was the time. He raised the capsule in his right hand and rested it against his left shoulder. Unlike most battlers who threw an over-arm release, he threw at an obscure angle.
The battle had begun.
The angle he threw it at forced the ball to bounce back into his hand after Hishrak had been released.
It was now or never.
He clenched both of his fists.
Hishrak didn’t need to look back to see what his trainer was doing. His psychic mind was in sync with Clarence. Clarence pulled his left arm back sharply.
All of a sudden the old man was jolted forward onto the battlefield. His Tropius was as shocked as his trainer. They were eliminated without a second thought.
Clarence couldn’t revel in his immediate victory over his first opponent for too long.
The brother and sister had joined forces against him. Her Heatmor spewed flames and his Durant screeched a loud drilling noise.
“Psycho-screech, but not too strong. I want the referee to still be conscious… try and not hit the Heatmor,” he ordered.
Hishrak rolled his eyes as he let out an almighty psycho-screech. The psychic waves travelled in an echoing fashion with Hishrak the Alakazam as the epicentre.
Clarence quickly covered his ears and closed his mind. He imagined himself switching his brain to mute.
Hishrak quickly moved to stand in front of Heatmor.
The entire match depended on this move.
Durant was resisting the attack but it simply wasn’t strong enough. The boy was screaming.
Heatmor went to use will-o-wisp against Hishrak but it had no effect.
The crowd could hear nothing.
Hishrak had been manipulating a protective field around the crowd. In a few moments the protective field would fade. Durant would be down due to the painful screech though.
The girl had fainted but she fainted (luckily for Clarence) inside her battle box.
Durant was down. The match belonged entirely to Clarence. No one outside of that arena had been harmed by his attack. Something he deemed a success.
James slumped back against the pole under the sand cloak. The bite on his leg was acting up. As much as he wanted to scream out in pain he couldn’t for several reasons: firstly, Lioa would tease him about it for weeks on end; secondly, Kitiku would probably receive the fright of his life and curl up into a corner afraid; lastly, Sutton would be no doubt concerned and start treating him as if he was a baby. Not to mention being scolded for lying about the pain.
Lioa’s second round battle was the first battle of the next day. He was pretty relaxed about the whole affair. He had had a massive advantage. He had left the Bibarel to finish off in this round. Although, fastest victors had gone to James (and his opponent) and Clarence (and his opponent), Lioa’s first round time was still impressive. Clarence’s battle was fifty-eighth and James’s was twelfth. Overall the group had been pretty lucky in round two. The battlefield wouldn’t be as destroyed as it was for Clarence at the end of this day.
Date: 18th June 1989
The second day of the tournament flew by quickly. Lioa had easily taken out Bibarel with a couple of Karate-Chops from his loyal Gurdurr and claimed the Sudowoodo as his prize. Clarence had claimed the Tropius. The Heatmor was no match for Hishrak’s speed or magic guard ability, which had rendered both its will-o-wisp and toxic attacks useless. A few low powered psychic attacks was all that was required. Clarence had decided from then on to conserve as much of Hishrak’s power as possible.
James, on the other hand, had to use all of Okta’s power to deliver the knockout blow against the Aggron. However, the churned up battlefield had made its attacks less effective and more power consuming. Once the Aggron had been defeated James had claimed it has his prize.
Lioa was the one surviving competitor from the group who had been dragged into the three way matches. Once again luck had favoured him. His opponents owned a Crustle and a Seviper. By throwing the fainted Crustle on top of Seviper he had easily joined the other two into the top thirty six. This was, my dear off islanders, when the inevitable happened.
James was looking at the match up board. He had drawn a match against Allumire Grektox. Kitiku, who had been taking notes, had warned him that Grektox was using a Raticate as his lead. Ordinarily, this would be an easy match. However, this
Raticate was holding a poison barb and had the ability of guts. This made its façade attack even more dangerous than usual. Any sort of physical attack would render the attacker poisoned badly. Meanwhile, by poisoning itself, it increased its own attack using façade. His second Pokémon was a Sawsbuck. Kitiku noted it had used both horn leech and jump kick previously. Grektox’s final Pokémon was a Shedinja. Its wonder guard made it a near impossible target for James. His only hope was to aim for Grektox and hope he stepped over the white line.
Clarence and Lioa looked at the board. They then looked at each other. Before Lioa could say anything antagonistic, Sutton had dragged him away from the board. Clarence had noted Lioa’s choice of prizes. Bibarel and Crustle (although, Lioa would
have preferred the Seviper, he felt as if Seviper wouldn’t have recovered quickly enough). Lioa was too proud to ask Kitiku, and was too anti-South to ask Sutton what Clarence had claimed. The fourth round was tonight. That would leave eighteen competitors to fight in the new day.
“I am surprised no one has been killed yet.” Sutton looked over at the battlefield, which had been already destroyed by the battles of the day. “It is an absolute miracle. Giratina is looking over these people here. Yet they don’t believe it ha-”
“Belief of Giratina is what your religion demands. To the people here however, they believe something else. They could easily say the same thing to you.” Clarence stood beside Sutton. James quickly walked over to join them.
“What do you believe?” Sutton asked.
“I believe we should do whatever we can as a people to keep each other safe and free,” Clarence responded.
“I see. I wish we had met under different circumstances. I mean, rather than-” Sutton started.
“Rather than during a time of crisis?” Clarence asked and received a nod. “James, if you had met Sutton outside of war, what would you have made of him?”
“He is an idiot, from the South.” James scoffed. James’s tone made both of the men laugh a little. “What is so funny?” James scowled.
“You are supposed to say something nice,.” Sutton said, continuing to laugh. “Clarence?”
“Yes, Incaresta?”
“Take care of Lioa. Don’t let him get hurt. I saw what you did to that boy and girl the other day…”
“Psycho-screech is a powerful move. I don’t use it often. However, I will take good care of Lioa.”
Sutton nodded once before shunting James forward, telling him to go get ready for his matchup against Grektox.
“I have never heard of psycho-screech before. Where did your Pokémon learn it? What even is your Pokémon?” James asked.
“Alakazam.” Clarence answered.
The single word made Sutton silent.
“Alakazam aren’t what you would call a common Pokémon. It is for the best though. Imagine lots of children with these really powerful psychic creatures,” he continued.
“Would be chaos,” Sutton said.
“Would be artistic, creative and tragic,” Clarence said, “Artistic because the children could explore how they feel more easily. Creative because the children could let their deepest dreams become reality.”
“Why tragic?” Sutton queried.
“What would come if they no longer agree? Children are amazing. They are more gifted and intelligent than are often credited for. I try to spend time with all of my children whenever I can. You can learn a lot from them. Like how James just managed to steal your keys, which were stuck to the cut from a Magnemite’s magnet inside your short’s pocket,” Clarence smiled speaking.
Sutton’s face drew panic as he searched his pockets desperately for his keys. “I’ll get them back later for you. I am sure he will give them back if you ask him.”
“You don’t know James,” Sutton sighed as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair.
“I do not. I do know, however, he does look up to you in a strange way. He dislikes you for being from the South, but he likes you for not being like most of those from the South. You will get through to his heart one day,” Clarence encouraged.
“You rebel against the South by competing here. Yet you talk as if you only ever want peace,” Sutton said, warily.
“Rebelling or disobeying? Who doesn’t want peace? Only a mad man craves death and destruction. Only the man from the bad side of the prophecy would want that.” Clarence looked on.
Sutton nodded. “James’ match should be on soon. Let’s take our seats.”
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Mar 12, 2019 23:33:54 GMT
Sorry it took me so long to get round to this! I really like the opening here, with its very stark contrast between James' view of Incaresta and Incaresta's actual actions. It's exceptionally thoughtless, even by his standards. Which is excellent, and sets up quite nicely for James' messy oh-god-I'm-a-kid-bumbling-through-a-contest-dominated-by-adults attempt at battling; like he's thoughtless enough that he doesn't even watch his opponents himself, but relies on someone else to feed him information about the line-up he's going to be facing. Even after he ended up barely scraping through that first match. Not what you'd call tactical genius, but very much in character.
Especially when you compare it to Clarence's ruthless – and slightly cheaty; I wonder if anyone can trace the old man stumbling back to him and his partner? I guess he wouldn't have done it if he didn't think he could get away with it – mastery of his own battle. He plans it out beforehand, starts calculating what he can get away with based on how many people are watching, and controls the entire battlefield from the very start of the fight. This is a guy who seriously outmatches his opponents; I guess there are a lot of amateurs mixed in with the people who know what they're doing at this early stage of the competition! It'll be cool to see him face off against someone on his own skill level later on, as the competitors get whittled down to the very best among them.
I think the battles are a bit … gamey, though, for the world that you're representing here? Like a lot of the time, you say that a pokémon took a lot of damage, which is a really abstract representation of fighting that works great for a game but not very well for this much more detailed, realistic world that you've got here. Sometimes you give a hint as to what this looks like – talking about blood dripping or a pokémon being pushed back – and I think if you developed those hints more, and dropped the abstract references to 'damage', that would work really well. On a similar note, moves and abilities seem very abstract; you say that the raticate has 'the ability of guts', but like, that's a really video game way of describing it – what is Guts, in this world? What does it mean? Does it just mean that the raticate gets angry when suffering, or is it an actual mystical power? I feel like a bit of clarity on that would be helpful.
Finally, here are some other little bits and pieces I noted down as I read through:
This isn't a direct quotation (James wouldn't have thought the 'had' there), so it shouldn't be in quotation marks.
There's a bit of a tension here between Clarence's careful picking up of Lioa and his very cavalier tossing of him over the shoulder. It feels a little inconsistent.
Should that be 'dough' or something, rather than wheat? It reads kinda like it's just made from whole ears of wheat twisted around a berry, but I'm not sure that's what you mean here – wheat's just the raw ingredient here; it has to be ground and made into a dough before you can do something like this with it.
Missing an A in 'leant' here.
Not sure that comma should be there.
You start a new line in the middle of this sentence.
That should be 'fixed'. Also, even if she didn't hear him, it seems a bit odd that she wouldn't notice a giant rock snake burrowing underground – that's got to be loud.
That should be 'cheers'.
Missing a comma after 'watching'.
Another superfluous line break here.
Another superfluous line break here.
That full stop shouldn't be there.
The apostrophe should be on the other side of the S in 'shorts'. Also, that part of the end doesn't quite work grammatically – 'Clarence said, smiling' would work better. Finally, I have to admit I'm not 100% sure what Clarence is trying to say here, sorry. Is there a magnet inside the lining of Sutton's shorts, to which his keys were attached? The phrasing is just a little unclear.[/quote][/quote]
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Apr 5, 2019 20:39:07 GMT
ᛦ "Time is a blessing. One I don't have. Yet I must keep going. I love this world, I hope you do to..." - Lloyd Jackson, 2010, Ar Helkoi ᛦ
Part 1
James eyed Grektox.
The flag dropped and James threw Okta onto the battlefield with a tremendous throw. Okta landed with a thud, and let out a screech straight away. Grektox’s Raticate took the screech.
It didn’t take James a moment to notice Grektox’s smug look. Raticate was already poisoned. The huge vermin like creature scampered across the damaged battlefield towards Okta.
“Okta, use dig!” James called out.
She obeyed.
Grektox called out something to his Raticate that stopped dead in its tracks.
Okta sprung up from underneath Raticate. As she came up from under the ground she caught Raticate’s toes.
Raticate struggled to stand after the attack. However, the poison barb was now in her rocky skin. She had received the poison. Raticate started fumbling around trying to stand up.
James seized the opportunity to land Okta’s iron tail attack but the vermin dodged it.
Raticate charged towards Okta using façade once more.
“Okta, use iron tail again,” James calmly said.
She screeched at James, letting him know she understood and she raised her tail, with a single swipe she lifted the Raticate off the ground and sent him into a wall. To the crowd’s delight the Raticate was out for the count. Its tail curled up. “Now come back to me.”
Grektox threw out his Shedinja.
James summoned Aggron.
Aggron roared and instantly went to attack Shedinja, but was met by the almighty wonder guard. Shedinja then lashed out and landed a will-o-wisp attack on Aggron. Aggron was now burnt, so all its attacks would be much weaker. James started to panic since he had no way of dealing with Shedinja. His battle would be over if he couldn’t find a solution. The sand was starting to rise from the Aggron’s irritated stomping. Aggron was infuriated. It was out of control. It charged violently towards
Shedinja. Nothing James could say could stop it.
Grektox simply started to laugh. James’s Okta was poisoned, and Aggron was burnt. Two status conditions that could leave him in danger of being knocked out of this competition.
He had to think of something fast. He thought for a moment, and figured out that he could use Aggron’s dust to his advantage. He could conceal a rock in that. Nothing against the rules saying a trainer couldn’t battle a Pokémon indirectly. James reached down to the ground and picked up as big of a rock as he could find.
Shedinja was using shadow sneak on Aggron. Although not doing very much damage in a single attack cumulatively it had done a lot.
James hurled the rock at Aggron, who quickly grabbed it in its mouth. It started to violently shake the rock. It was cracking under the pressure of Aggron’s jaw. All it would take is one hit on Shedinja. The rock cracked and was flung at Shedinja that was too busy preparing its next shadow sneak. The rock landed a direct blow on its stomach. Shedinja fell. Aggron was too badly hurt from its burn to continue too.
Okta would have to finish this, even though she was poisoned.
Sawsbuck was sent out by Grektox. High jump kick was the only way James could think of here. He would have to force Sawsbuck to miss, or risk being eliminated.
Clarence sat watching from the stands.
Hishrak had shown him what was about to happen and it wasn’t going to be good.
Sawsbuck would charge the young boy. James would call Okta to attack the grass type. Sawsbuck would then go for a high jump kick and break the boy’s neck. James would be considered an adult since he was over twelve. Therefore the stunners wouldn’t do anything to stop him from being killed by the Sawsbuck’s attack.
Hishrak stood in stands by Clarence. He was reading his trainer’s mind. He coated the stand in an invisible protective field, since Clarence never gave the order directly, no one would ever know who did it (if it was discovered to have occurred at all). James had a 50% chance of winning this way as the attack would probably force both trainers to have a reaction at the same time, and a 0% chance of dying.
Hishrak let out an almighty psycho-screech. The crowd could hear nothing but inside the battlefield both trainers clutched their ears desperately. The noise was unbearable. It felt as if their ears were being ripped from their heads. Sawsbuck started kicking around in panic.
Okta screeched in agony. James quickly shouted for her to go underground, but she couldn’t hear him. The screaming inside her head was too loud. Grektox cursed as he fainted. Sawsbuck quickly followed. Immediately, James recalled Okta to avoid her fainting. He felt dizzy and sick. It didn’t take him a moment to spit up a little blood. Had the dreadful noise done something to him? Or was it the bite on his leg? James sat inside the sand cloak with Sutton, who had insisted on coming. Clarence and Lioa were battling and he was missing it. He rested his head against the pole. Since the battle he had spat up a little more blood. He was convinced it was the noise that had done it, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Are you okay? I saw you spit up blood earlier,” Sutton said, as he handed over a flask of water to the boy.
“The noise made me sick. It was so piercing and it wouldn’t leave my head,” James answered.
“You find crowd cheers piercing? We need to get you seen to by a doctor when we get back then,” the soldier quickly replied.
“Didn’t you hear it? There was a noise. It was high pitched. It made the Sawsbuck go crazy,” James hissed.
“No, the Sawsbuck went crazy because its trainer was incapable of controlling it. I have decided. Doctor once we get back. Then you fix the mess you made and explain to the Captain everything,” Sutton replied “Mister Sutton?” James asked.
“Yes?” the soldier responded wearily.
“Ever wondered what is out there? I mean outside of the sea,” James asked, trying to change the topic.
“That is treason.” Sutton’s face turned sour.
“Sorry. I just want to know... I just want things to be back to how they were, Lord Madison wouldn’t have cared if we talked about the possibility of…” James whispered.
“James that is one thing about life that is guaranteed. Nothing is ever the same again.” James tiredly rested against Sutton. “You rest. You will need it. The rest of your battles should be a walk through. Except if you draw Clarence. You have a type advantage against everyone else for the majority of the time.” James was in a deep sleep before Incaresta could finish talking.
Part 2
The final was mere minutes away. Clarence had eliminated Lioa, and had easily claimed fastest victory for a second time.
James had slogged his way through. Okta was exhausted. His team now consisted of: Onix, Sawsbuck, Aggron, Tyrunt, Fearow and Phantump. Whereas Clarence’s team now consisted of: Alakazam, Tropius, Gurdurr and Tyranitar. In terms of number of team members available James had the advantage. However, according to the betting station’s statistics, James’s team measured up against Clarence’s team as a ‘-1’, compared to Clarence measuring up as a massive ‘7’. James was heavily disadvantaged by type and move match-ups.
The two stood opposite each other in the arena. Time for battling was upon them. With this battle, the festival would be over, and one of them would be dubbed a courageous member of Northern society.
The flag came down. Clarence smiled at James before sending Tyranitar onto the field. James threw Fearow onto the field. Fearow immediately shot up into the air. Tyranitar watched it carefully as it swooped around.
“Use drill run!” James called out.
Fearow’s beak started to fill with power. It swooped down and started to furiously peck at the ground. Its brown feathers started to become sandy. The ground in which Tyranitar stood started to become unstable. Its foot slipped and it crashed to create ripples in the ground. Fearow shot up once more into the air. As it came in for a second attack Clarence stepped forward within his battle box.
“Stone edge,” he said calmly.
Tyranitar pulled itself upright and then spiked up its back and punched the ground with tremendous force. Spiky rocks were torn up from the ground and shot up.
Fearow was too close and it became trapped in the avalanche of rocks. Its left wing had been broken as the rocks crushed together as a result of the attack and it let out a scream before fainting.
“Good job, Fearow. I can work with that,” James said to Fearow’s ball. “Sawsbuck, it is on you!” James sent out the Sawsbuck, whose summer-like pattern was now in full bloom.
Upon seeing the Sawsbuck appear on the battlefield Clarence withdrew Tyranitar, and sent out Tropius. Sawsbuck readied itself for an attack.
James was ready to deliver. “Sawsbuck, use high jump kick”.
Sawsbuck charged towards the Tropius that still sat on the ground.
Tropius, like Clarence, was patient. It waited for Sawsbuck to buck with its back legs. At the exact moment the Sawsbuck went to land its high jump kick, Tropius flew up into the air into a hover, much to the crowd’s amusement. Sawsbuck’s fully extended legs failed to hit the target. It landed on its front two legs before crashing back to the ground. It was hurt.
“Don’t give up Sawsbuck, use double edge!” James called and Sawsbuck angrily got up and charged towards Tropius once more.
Tropius was unprepared for this attack.
Sawsbuck’s horns landed a solid hit on its unready opponent. However, in delivering such a devastating blow to the bulky grass type, its neck made a crack, as its spine became chipped in places. Sawsbuck had taken recoil damage, and a lot of it. Sawsbuck, now struggling to stand was unable to dodge Tropius.
“Air slash!” Clarence called out. Tropius mustered up enough air fast enough to create a small but powerful air slash. It swept the Sawsbuck off its feet so it thudded into the ground.
Clarence smiled as James withdrew the Sawsbuck.
“Never mind Sawsbuck. Aggron, it’s on you!” James shouted.
Aggron hit the ground with a thud and a scream. Its white metallic coating was dirty and sandy from its earlier battles.
“Tropius, use earthquake.” Clarence said, before James could even prepare Aggron. The circular, torn up battlefield cracked. The field was now vastly unstable. The dust from the attack flew up into the air. As Aggron desperately tried to run from the earthquake attack it backed itself into a corner and fell into a newly founded hole in the field caused by Tropius’s attack. “Tropius, use air slash!”
“Wait, Aggron use stone edge when it gets close enough!” James ordered.
“That won’t work! Tropius, use fly instead!” Clarence responded and Tropius quickly climbed up in the air. “Try figuring out where I am coming from.”
Clarence was right. Tropius, who now sat in the low clouds, was invisible to him. However, he didn’t have to look at the clouds. The wind was blowing strongest from the east. Therefore, to gain as much momentum as possible Tropius would come from the east. “Now Tropius!”
Sure enough, Tropius came swooping down from the clouds towards the Aggron.
James was prepared though and as soon as Tropius appeared, and without hesitation he shouted at Aggron, “Aggron, from the east, use stone edge.”
Aggron immediately picked up a piece of the cracked ground and hurled it at Tropius. It was a direct hit.
Tropius was hit in the head by the flying chunk of earth. It plummeted into the ground unconscious.
“Or use rock throw… I am happy either way,” James chimed in.
Aggron started to climb out of the hole. It roared with glee. Its happy stomping created a dust cloud.
“Gurdurr, you are up. Thank you Tropius for your assistance today.” Clarence released Lioa’s Gurdurr from its ball onto the field. Gurdurr punched the ground when it landed. The damaged battlefield cracked even more.
“Aggron, use metal claw!” James called, making it so the Aggron charged towards Ruskuo. With great power in its fists it swung and dealt a powerful metal claw attack on the Gurdurr. This was too easy.
“Gurdurr, now use hammer arm!” Clarence had sacrificed some of the Gurdurr’s stamina, to entice the powerful Aggron in closer to make it an easier target. It was a critical hit, the Aggron’s jaw had been broken, and the Aggron fell down into a pit on the battlefield unconscious. Ruskuo’s speed decreased as he had left himself open. Ruskuo, Tyranitar and Hishrak were still available for Clarence, whereas, James had Phantump, Tyrunt and Okta.
“Thank you, Aggron. Phantump, let’s do this.” James sent Phantump out. However, he threw the ghost-tree a little too far out onto the battlefield which played directly into Clarence’s hands.
“Poison Jab!” Gurdurr punched Phantump extremely hard in the gut. Phantump looked sick as it flew backwards from the attack. “Phantump is poisoned badly, James.” Clarence warned, making James grit his teeth.
“I know, I know. Phantump, use wood hammer!” James responded.
Ruskuo, smug about its successful poisoning was too busy jeering up the crowd to notice the little ghost sneak up behind it. It thumped the fighting type with its wood hammer attack. Ruskuo fainted from the hit. Phantump took a considerable amount of damage back in recoil, and was then violently sick from the poison. The ghost type started to phase in and out of reality to please the crowd, who were cheering more so than before.
James was confused, ‘Clarence didn’t have a Pokémon on the field. Did he?’
Much to James’s surprise the Tyranitar was on the field. It had snuck underground and was hiding. It had probably been hidden for some time. There is nothing in the rules of the festival against it, as long as it didn’t attack anyone it was a perfectly legal move. However, it was rarely done, as it could easily be frowned upon. Phantump screeched out in pain as the giant beast crunched down on it. Its wooden body cracked in places under the pressure of the rock-dark type’s jaw. Phantump fainted. “Phantump, you did great. Tyrunt, it is on you! Tyrunt use brick break!” James shouted as soon as the little dragon came onto the field to replace the Phantump. It started to scamper towards the waiting Tyranitar who was prepared for the attack without needing to take an order from Clarence, it thumped the ground. The thump caused an earthquake. The ground cracked around Tyranitar as an epicentre.
Tyrunt was quick on its little feet. It started to run and jump away from the earthquake and the dust that followed. James decided to abuse the situation and concoct a backup plan. Meanwhile the Tyrunt had almost escaped from the earthquake loop when it ran directly into the Tyranitar.
Tyranitar thumped the ground once more. There was no way it could miss this time.
The little dragon barely hung on through the attack. It swung its tail using brick break, in a desperate attempt to damage the giant. The attack landed and the Tyrantiar, who took the attack, chomped down on the Tyrunt’s tail. The attack by the Tyrunt had made the giant bleed. The monster clearly had wished to return the favour. The little dragon’s tail had been broken. The teeth marks were pouring out blood. The Tyrunt fainted from pain. James now appeared to be in trouble, however, it was time for his backup plan. He withdrew Tyrunt.
“Okta, it’s all on you!” James shouted, “Use iron tail!” The yellow Onix came up from underground, like Tyranitar had done not ten minutes ago. “Thanks for the idea!” James called out to Clarence. Who smiled at how the boy had used his own tactic against him.
“Crunch! Try and take it out!” Tyranitar desperately tried to crunch down on the Onix’s body but was slammed with an iron tail across the jaw before it was unable to land the hit. The super effective attack sent the Tyranitar backwards hard, so it hit the wall with a thud. The crowd jumped up scared. Tyranitar let out an angry roar before fainting. Clarence returned Tyranitar to its ball. “Thank you my friend. You did well. Rest up now. Hishrak, finish this.” “Use iron tail once more!” James shouted.
“Psychic,” Clarence said.
James watched as Okta received the powerful psychic attack and crumbled to the ground in pain.
James felt the psychic energy push him backwards too. The thought crossed the boy’s mind, ‘if this Pokémon was strong enough to one shot Okta, why didn’t he lead with it?’ The flag was dropped to signify the end of the match.
James felt sick inside. He had almost won it. His dreams crushed by someone really powerful.
Clarence returned Hishrak to its ball and walked over to James. He extended his arm up. “You will go far one day. Don’t give up.”
“I won’t.” James returned the raised arm, disappointed. “Will she be okay?”
“Of course. Hishrak’s power is very old, but he can control it. He didn’t harm her severely,” Clarence said to James as he stood tall as he received his trophy on the destroyed battlefield. He waved to the crowd. “This is where we part ways. I wish you luck, James, in your future endeavours. Incaresta and I have unfinished business. I suggest you head home alone. I am sure you will be fine. Stick to main streets from now on.”
James puffed a sigh of relief before nodding. James walked away from the centre of the arena, where Clarence was standing.
James wandered down to the healing point, where a healer and his Gardevoir were tending to all the Pokémon that had been wounded throughout the competition. Here the Pokémon were well rested. Although, he wasn’t allowed to come down to the point beforehand, as all healing had to occur overnight as part of the rules.
The healer had Gardevoir use heal pulse on the Pokemon individually, before wrapping up their wounds. Heal pulse was amazing, but it was also painful. It felt as if your skin is being burned away, once done however, the new skin and energised bone healers in the body get to work. Tyrunt’s tail had been wrapped up in a bandage, as it tried to wander around with difficulty.
Okta had been given a cool drink, and nothing more. She got out of the battle rather lightly. Once she had done drinking, James took her back as he watched the other owners of the Pokémon he had borrowed come to collect them.
James, Kitiku, Andrew and Lioa began their long trek home. It had been a rather disappointing, but successful day. James had lost the final, and Lioa had fallen to the champion of the tournament. Thanks to several of the people at the festival they had been given a lift to Akrat. There was no sandstorm due that night. Unfortunately due to the curfew they would have to sneak through the shady town. Judging by some of the conversations on the Sawsbuck coach, the train service from Akrat to Fehahra was still running. Although, it wasn’t a viable option. The boys had no money. Also, James had noted that General Greiss from the South was supposedly heading to Fehahra to assist the new Captain in his work, if he happened to be on the train the punishment of being caught after curfew would be severe. James found it rather amusing that a General would be working for a Captain. However, when Lord Piscar chooses someone himself, that person is clearly not to be messed with. The thought did dawn on him that the new Captain would probably recognise him, if it was indeed true that the Captain was at the festival. The boys ran in between the shadows once they were off the Sawsbuck coach. They shifted along a nearby wall, and James reached for the drainpipe of one of the houses in Akrat. He scrambled up and sat on the roof. Lioa followed him up, pushing the others out of the way. James could hear voices in the distance. He could see a Litwick light glowing. It was getting closer. Andrew, Lioa and James tucked down behind the roof to watch, as Kitiku struggled to pull himself up. A tall man with a broad face stood directly below the roof. He was muscular and his Machoke stood close by. His arms were crossed. James couldn’t see the tie knot he had. In Coltar, my dear off islanders, a person’s rank is observed by the knot on their tie. “James. We cannot get caught. You didn’t replace our files. Remember!” Lioa hissed. “Yeah, yeah, I am working on it,” James snapped back. “No need to work on it! I have an idea to get us out of this.” Lioa crawled over Andrew. Kitiku was panting nervously at the end of the line. “James what are we going to do?” James shrugged to Kitiku’s question. “Lioa says he has a plan. I hope it is worth the wait…” James said impatiently. “It is. See that roof over there?” Lioa pointed into the distance. The sandy roof was hard to see, but the other boys nodded. “We need to get there. Once we get there we can get home. We need to distract this guy though.” “How?” James asked curiously. “I can battle him if needed.” “No need. I have a better idea,” Lioa said, as he looked at Kitiku. “What? I really miss my mother. I just want to get home now. I will do whatever you need. Just get me home. I am worried the South will find out what I’ve done and lock me up and throw away the key. I don’t think I can handle that,” Kitiku said, nervously. “Whatever I need?” Lioa asked. “Within reason,” Kitiku answered. “Sure,” Lioa said. “Can you see that tower in the distance?” Lioa pointed forwards. The tall boy shook his head. “You might need to stretch up a little more, it is really hard to see.” As Kitiku strained to see the tower Lioa was talking about, Lioa took his chance. He shunted Kitiku forward. Kitiku plummeted off the roof and onto the Machoke. “Now is our chance. Kitiku can take a hit, we can’t get caught again, let’s go.” The Machoke didn’t take kindly to being landed on and used vital throw against the boy. Kitiku was thrown across the ground leaving his skin broken into a deep cut and his left Tibia and Fibula were shattered. The man angrily started shouting at the boy who was screaming in pain. “Lioa, what have you done?” James punched Lioa in the face. “Saving our lives. You couldn’t have done better,” Lioa snapped, as his nose started to bleed. “Hey mister!” James called down. “What are you doing?” Lioa hissed. “Saving my friend. What are you doing?” James answered. “Hey mister, up here.” The man scowled at James and beckoned him down angrily. James noted the man’s tie. This was General Greiss. It had to be. “Sure thing mister.” James slid down the drainpipe. Lioa rolling his eyes followed. Andrew puffed the hair out of his face and brought up the rear. “Pick him up, Northern scum!” Greiss barked. His black hair was medium length. He was tall and well built. James didn’t really fancy trying to outrun him at the current time. Particularly as Kitiku needed him. James pulled his friend to his feet. He realised Kitiku couldn’t stand, let alone walk. “We are going to take a walk to there, Greiss pointed to Akrat’s cemetery, which had fallen into disrepair. “Move!” James aided Kitiku step by step to where Greiss wanted them to go. Lioa and Andrew followed. Once they reached the gate Greiss kicked Lioa in the shin and barked at the boys. “Start digging. I will make use of you before you die for attacking me.” “What? No. It was an accident. We didn’t attack you!” James shouted. “Be silent. You will die, and will make this as easy as possible for me. Now start digging!” Kitiku started shaking more than he was already. Both Andrew and he started to sob. “I said be silent.” The man’s Machoke went to punch Kitiku and Andrew in the stomach. “Okay, we will dig, just don’t hurt them.” Greiss smirked at James’s desperate bargaining plea. James started to dig through the sandy ground. He had to get them out of this, but it didn’t look like there was an easy escape route. The younger boys were really struggling to cope with what had just happened. James had dug nearly three feet down. Lioa had dug slightly further. Greiss had pushed the two younger boys into the pits. He was watching their every move. James was desperate for some slavers to turn up and try pick a fight on the General, just so he and his friends could escape. Or at least try. Okta was too tired still to fight, the situation looked hopeless. Suddenly the man’s attention was caught by something. James couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he could hear what Greiss was saying. “Why do you talk in this filthy language? Either way, these criminals… no… assassins need to die. What was that? Was that a threat?” The General waved his arms angrily and started pacing, “I see how things are. I will crush you. Machoke break his neck, this man questions Lord Piscar’s desires.” Machoke suddenly started charging in the direction of the second voice. Before James’s eyes Machoke had been flung backwards into the pit where he and Kitiku were. Kitiku had jumped out of his skin and was crying even louder. The General started to stutter. “Wh-what is this trickery? Who are you? I-I… I will crush you! Miltank show him who is…” Before he could finish he had been flung against a gravestone. He hit it hard enough to become unconscious. A man in midnight blue stood above them. The man extended a hand down to Andrew and pulled him up, before offering Lioa the same. Lioa took the hand with a grudge and was pulled out. The man then came over to James and jumped into the three foot deep hole. His hat covered most of his face but James noticed his tie. It was a trinity knot. Three overlaps at the top. This man was an officer in the Southern army. He picked Kitiku up and started trying to carry him. He realised the boy was in pain and wouldn’t calm down. The officer shouted for his colleague as he placed Kitiku on the ground outside of the pit. He went to pick James up and lift him onto the edge. James shook his head and pulled himself up. The man followed. His colleague was nearly at the gate. “Are you boys okay? That looks nasty, you will be seen to by a doctor as soon as we get to Fehahra. Was anyone else hurt?” the man said, removing his hat and wiping the sweat from his forehead. “No. Not you. How?” James was lost for words. Clarence stood in front of him. He was the Southern Captain who had been chosen by Lord Piscar. “Traitor! Liar! You are the enemy! You are going to kill us. You won’t take Kitiku to a doctor, you won’t take us home. It was all an act. You are the enemy!” James burst out shouting in a panic. “Breathe James. It is okay. Let’s get all of you back to Fehahra in as good as condition as possible. It has been a long day for us all. Let’s co-operate with each other.” “No. I am not working with the South. Leave me alone!” James went to escape but fell with a thud back into one of the pits. Sutton then lifted him up. “James let’s get the train back to Fehahra. Okay? We will be back in Fehahra in around 3 to 4 hours, depending on the weather, and service. Kitiku can definitely not walk. Let’s get him seen by a doctor in Fehahra, since Akrat lacks safety,” Clarence said calmly. “Fine. Then what? You are going to kill us, just like that General. You are all the same inside, even Sutton!” James snapped. Something he instantly regretted. Kitiku’s crying got worse. “What do you want me to do? Just leave him alone! Just take him to a doctor and don’t hurt him…” “James, I want you to calm down. Nothing is going to happen to you. Let’s just get back to Fehahra.” James stared back, angrily. “Kitiku, breathe,” Clarence said, as the boy squeezed Sutton harder. He was inconsolable, the thoughts of almost being killed and being in extreme pain danced in his mind. “Kitiku, come on. Nothing is going to happen. You are safe.” Clarence gently eased Kitiku from Sutton and let the boy rest against him. “Let’s get you all on the train. Incaresta, can you take Lioa and Andrew. I will take James and Kitiku.” “Would you like them handcuffed, sir?” Incaresta asked in a more rigid manner than before. “No. Also please, relax. As I have already said to you, I am no one to be so worried about.” He reached into his pocket and let Barook, his Braviary out of its ball. Carefully he picked Kitiku up and placed him on Barook’s back. “Hold on tight, Kitiku. Kitiku, breathe.” No matter what he could say, the child wasn’t going to relax. He was beyond terrified. “Train station, sir?” Incaresta asked. “Train station, my friend,” the Captain replied. |
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Post by admin on Apr 18, 2019 5:10:26 GMT
Aaaaand finally here, after having dashed through all six chapters! (I mean, five of them I've read ages ago and kinda never got around to reviewing, but.) So to start things off, I want to drop this note of positivity. Part of what makes reading through this fic fun is you can see how you're improving. While I have to admit that there're still plenty of bits that could be tightened (we'll get to the more pressing ones later), chapter six is a definite improvement from the prologue and chapter one. Like, the infodumping folks pointed out ages ago isn't really a thing in chapter six, for starters. (And that's a great thing because ironically, it makes your worldbuilding shine even more. Like, when you ease up on your info and let it come out in trickles, it's easier to see a bigger picture, so the reader can put these details together and come out of it with this really rich mental image of what Coltar is. And given that worldbuilding is kinda your strong suit here—because you're trying to get this rich world out to your readers, and for the most part, you succeed, such as where you've managed to create this really fascinating hidden tournament, desert regions, and so on—a little bit of shine goes a long way for your fic.) Moreover, when it comes to things you've visibly improved on ... let me put it this way. It took several read-throughs to understand why, in chapter one, Kitiku was rushing after James and company in a panic, stating that houses are destroyed, and to be honest, I'm still not quite sure that's in the right order, as nothing James or his friends did would have destroyed anything other than a set of stairs. By contrast, you have a lot less of that going on in chapter six, and it's clear that you're trying to focus more on streamlining the action and making each step of what's going on as easy to follow as possible. Even the little details that might have been a little hazy in chapter one (Kitiku getting Vital Thrown might be the best analog) are there in chapter six. So in a way, you could say overall, things just got tighter. That said, though, lemme talk about another positive, and that's the characters. Realtalk, at first, I wasn't sure what to expect. I do read what goes down in #character-dev, and I admit that I'm just not one for darkfic in which folks have really super angsty backstories (or where they otherwise spend a lot of time going into detail about how horrifying their lives are). This isn't a mark against you, don't get me wrong. It's just that ... let's just say that Tomso and Nusko aren't my cuppa. But! The weird thing is ... in context, James actually works. Same thing with Kitiku. Like, I don't know. When a person writes in #character-dev, they get pure, unfiltered that character, but in context, it's a completely different story, and it's fascinating. James is an excellent example of that. In #character-dev, he comes off a little ... sort of vanilla. Like, he's sweet, a little naive, focused only on qwilfish and almost fixated on a past that's long-gone with this really depressing, forlorn outlook. In-context, though, he's a teenage dumbass. Like, not to put it bluntly, but lbr. He wrecked a town because he was pissed off at a gengar and didn't stop to think that maybe using an onix was a little overkill. He's mouthy and rebellious, but he never really actually does anything except argue with authority like a teenager argues with their parents. Sometimes, he even whines. He's such an absolute child in-context, when you see him surrounded by this rich but slightly dystopian world (given that there's a huge military presence going on here, and that's the least weird thing about this). Granted, I'm also well-aware that this is all being narrated, which means that the James we see here isn't necessarily what James is actually like, but still. It's just nice to see him be so thoroughly difficult to like. Partly because it just makes you feel more for Sutton, who is absolutely my fave. (Watch him be the narrator and thus the unreliable source that's painting James in a more negative light than he deserves.) I don't know. I just feel like as he is in this story, Sutton just. Puts up with so much. He's such an unsung hero, often trying his hardest to do what's best for the boys, defending them, and even going easy on them when any other soldier would've just tossed them in a cage and considered the job done. And what does he get for it? Lip. So much lip. Even a little bit of cosmic slapstick. (Oh, that part about his name...) And personally, I'm a sucker for the underdog of a story: that one character that even the cosmos seems to crap on for no real reason. You just want to root for that guy and hope he catches a break at some point. Maybe finally earn the protags' trust and friendship or something to keep him from being the eternal butt. But, with the positives and half-positives covered, that leaves ... the negatives. And honestly, there's only really one big one (aside from the grammatical weirdness I'd pointed out in tonight's workshop). Action scenes could just ... use a bit of work. Let me put it to you this way. There are two major things going on that you'll want to be aware of when writing action scenes: word choice and imagery. Or ... let's use an example: So when it comes to the first part, word choice, the concept is pretty simple. When proofreading, try reading your work aloud. If something seems a little dry or wonky, chances are, it is. In this case, if you read this aloud, you might notice something big: every sentence here starts off similarly, with two back-to-back starting off with the word "the" and two separate sentences starting with "Tyranitar." This invokes a choppy, repetitive feel that slows down the action in a way you probably don't want. Varying sentence structures will help relieve some of that tension and allow the paragraph to flow better, but again, read it out loud before finalizing anything. The other and more important issue (that's present pretty much throughout the tournament and even in the scene after) is the fact that this description doesn't really create much of a mental image. It's a bit tricky, not only to pull off but also explain, but it's like this. You don't need to describe every last detail, sure, but you should keep in mind that, even if this is narrated by someone who might not remember to add in details, details are all the reader has to go on. Or in other words, just saying the tyranitar tried to crunch James's onix doesn't mean much to us. Sure, we kinda sorta know what those moves look like (thanks to the anime), but that's not particularly dynamic or exciting because we can't picture exactly what's going down. It's just ... a bunch of move names going at each other, almost like the games. So here's a tip: don't use the move names in your descriptions. Oh, you can have trainers say what's going on, but when you actually go to describe what James and company are seeing, switch to actual movements. Instead of "Okta used Iron Tail," try, "Okta's tail swung through the air, flashing in the sunlight before smashing into the side of the tyranitar." See, you get a more vivid mental image by adding that bit of description. Like, if you took that out of context and gave it to someone who didn't know every single move in Pokémon, they'd be able to picture it clearly, and that's your goal (even though, yes, this is fanfiction). Or for a non-Pokémon example, take a look at this: That's ... a start, but the problem here is that that's not what a broken leg actually looks like. Oh, a broken leg can be pretty bloody and gruesome. You can have a cut on your leg. You can even have bone sticking out. The problem is that all of this is so medical and removed that it's difficult for us, the reader, to get into the moment and feel the sort of shock and revulsion James might feel as he watches his gentlest friend get his leg utterly destroyed. For a more dynamic description, you'd want to start off by describing how Kitiku landed in order for his leg to be shattered. What did he hit? Just the ground? If he just hit the ground, did he land leg-first? If yes, show Kitiku's foot crash into the ground. Show his leg twisting in a way that it really shouldn't. Describe that crack of the bones. And hey, he got a cut. Was that from his bone bursting through his skin, or did he slash his leg against concrete or some debris on the ground? Did blood spurt? Is it trickling after he landed? And of course, don't forget the reaction. Kitiku is a very sensitive individual, one who lives in constant fear that's sometimes actually justified by the fact that he's constantly getting hurt or sick, yet throughout this scene, we're never really shown Kitiku actually reacting. So ... how does he react to this injury? Does his face go white? Do his eyes widen? Roll back into his head? And does he scream (and how loud does he scream), or does he instantly go catatonic? The point is, even though this is being narrated by someone else and even though you don't have to include all of the details, it's still a good idea to get into the scene and really go to town whenever you can. Not only does this paint a more vivid image that we can latch onto and visualize, but, more importantly for a fic like this that begs us to feel for its characters, vivid descriptions draw us into the story. You can use careful word choices and decisions about what to focus on in a scene to evoke certain emotions in your readers. Visceral cringing, for example, if you go into detail about Kitiku's broken leg and his reaction to it. In short, the more you can give us without going overboard, the easier it will be for us to be drawn into your story and forge emotional connections with your cast. Granted, yes, this also takes time and practice to get right, but in the meantime, don't be afraid to experiment. All in all, though, it's not a bad fic. Sure, there are rough spots, but beneath all that, you do have a fic with plenty o' drama, a world waiting to be explored, and just. Fun characters. (Poor, poor Sutton.) So I do hope you keep tinkering from here on out. I'll keep an eye out for more content down the road.  |
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Post by Cavespider_17 on May 10, 2019 15:06:40 GMT
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"I want to be like you father, I want to be as good as Pierre,
Why won't you look at me? Father?"
- Kitiku Bryson, 1988, Fehahra
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Part 1
Clarence held Kitiku tightly as he took his seat on the train. The cabin was small but it was big enough for all six of them to sit in. The glass window reflected softly. A Litwick floated quietly around the cabin. The doors were wooden and opened outwards. The handles were once a nice shiny metal, but now had been faded with use. The cabin interior was wooden. There was a small slide out table tucked into the wall. “James, sit by the window please. Lioa, I want you next to me. Andrew, please sit next to Incaresta,” Clarence spoke softly, in a desperate attempt to try and relax Kitiku. Kitiku’s panic was as bad as when the incident first occurred. He hadn’t stopped crying due to the pain and his shattered lower left leg had turned a swollen purple. “Sir, may I suggest we find out what happened to Kitiku?” Sutton stuttered. “Of course. Also, please don’t call me sir. Relax, Incaresta,” Clarence replied. “Kitiku, are you going to calm down enough for us to find out what happened?” The boy was shaking. “It is okay. No one will hurt you. Please, calm down.” He brushed Kitiku’s hair from his face. “Incaresta, can you fetch me some water please?” “I still have some in my flask, Captain,” Sutton replied, in a still somewhat rigid manner. “May I?” The soldier nodded and handed over his flask. “Kitiku, I want you to drink something.” The officer offered the boy the flask but was met panic. “He won’t calm down. He is scared. Wouldn’t you be scared? You are a Southern jerk,” Lioa blurted out. “If you are going to kill us, just do it. Stop playing games with us. Sutton told us what you would do to us.” “Lioa, as I have already said, I have no intention of killing anyone. I want to get you all back to Fehahra safely. I want to get someone to the medical bay as soon as we get there.” “Oh, I forgot. James has been throwing up blood. I suggest he gets checked out too,” Sutton said. “Captain,” he quickly added at the end. “James, is this true?” the officer asked in a concerned voice. “Does it matter? I am fine. I just felt a little sick after hearing that noise,” James snapped. “It isn’t usual for people to withstand a psycho-screech without training. That is why you are spitting up blood. Your body is reacting to the noise still. It should have stopped by now.” James nodded. It wasn’t true. He had thrown up not that long ago. In the corner of his eye, Clarence saw Andrew swallow. The boy was thirsty. This was his chance. “Andrew, would you like a drink?” Andrew nodded as he rubbed his eyes. He reached over and took the flask from Clarence. He took a swig and yawned before handing it back. “Mister Sutton, can I rest on your shoulder please?” Andrew whispered. His question was met by an arm being wrapped around him. He lent against the soldier’s shoulder. “See, Kitiku. The water is safe, Andrew is fine and he has just drank some. Would you like a drink? I need you to drink something.” The crying child took the flask and took a few swigs of water before burying his head into the man’s midnight blue jacket. “Good. Now you have had a drink do you feel better?” His question was met with more tears and shaking. “What are you going to do with us?” James asked as he pressed his head against the window. “Once we get back to Fehahra, I will ensure you get home safely. I have read your files. I have read everyone in Fehahra’s files. Your introduction a few days ago was unnecessary. I am surprised you didn’t discover my identity when I failed to report Grektox. I believe it was my only mistake.” “Kitiku noticed something else. Something you said which sounded wrong. Something about hearts. I can’t remember what exactly,” James said, “I feel like a fool. You lied to us.” “Did I? I don’t remember lying. I was born in Kiro. I just moved further into Southern territory as I got older.” Clarence looked away from James for a moment. Both Andrew and Kitiku had drifted off into a deep sleep thanks to an Ivysaur’s sleep powder that he had slipped into the water. “The flask is empty now. If you boys want a drink just ask and one of us will get you one. I would appreciate you boys getting some sleep though. We will arrive back in Fehahra it seems at 3 am.” “Keys!” Sutton blurted out, “Lioa, give me my keys.” “No. I don’t have them. Why should I give them back if I did have them? You and the South are bad people. Lord Madison will beat you and then we will be free!” Lioa shouted. Clarence met his eyes with a cold, hard stare. “Sorry. Don’t be mad, please?” “Lioa, the differences between our Lords does not make half the population ‘bad people’,” Clarence said, calmly. “I’m just really tired and scared… please don’t hurt us,” Lioa faked a squeaky voice. “Fake tears do not work on me. I have been a father long enough to be able to detect when someone tries it. I suggest if you are ‘really tired’ you get some rest. I am sure Incaresta will let you rest on his other shoulder if you wish to be near your brother. That will allow James to sleep on my right shoulder so he can be near his brother.” Lioa nodded and got up and sat next to Sutton. James, who now felt slightly crowded, got up. “I am not tired. I am not going to sleep on your shoulder. Not now, not ever.” “You already have once. What makes things different this time?” “I…” James started, but then left the cabin angrily. Sutton tried to move to go after him, but realised if he got up Andrew would be woken up. “He will be back. He hasn’t got any papers. If a Lord catches him he will be in trouble.” Clarence closed his eyes, as he gently sighed.
Part 2
Date: 19th June 1989
The time was now just gone midnight. James came back from his stroll. He looked calmer. “James, do you feel better?” Clarence asked. James sighed. “I still don’t feel tired,” he lied. “That is absolutely fine. While you were gone I had some water and snacks brought here. Are you hungry or thirsty?” Clarence smiled. “Not really. I just… I just don’t want to die. There is just so much I want to do still.” James looked somewhat concerned and stressed thinking about it. “James, there is plenty of time for you to still do those things. You won’t die. What is this obsession with me killing you? Do I look like the kind of person who would murder four children?” “We aren’t children we are adults. Northern law says so,” James snapped. “Southern law says you need to be twenty-five to be classed as an adult. As you are currently in expanded Southern territory you obey Southern law.” James puffed angrily at Clarence’s state-ment. “You need rest. I have an idea.” Clarence reached into his pocket and pulled out two tablets. He then handed James a glass of water. “You don’t have to take these. If you do they will help you sleep. I expect you to know what is best for you.” “You aren’t going to drug my water, like you did to Andrew and Kitiku?” James asked. “You noticed my sleight of hand? Kitiku needed it, he was having a major panic attack and was in-consolable. The poor boy would have made himself sick if he kept stressing and the sleep powder was harmless, to be honest the rest has done him some good.” He looked at Kitiku, who was breathing softer and calmer than when he slept at the tournament. James watched, as his friend was smiling in his sleep, completely stress free. “Can you tell me what happened to Kitiku?” Clarence asked as he handed over the tablets. James looked at them intently. “Kitiku fell off a roof. He landed on a Machoke. Machoke used vital throw and the rest you know,” James said. It was near enough the truth. “I see. Fell or was pushed? Kitiku didn’t try to stop himself from falling. If he really did fall I would have expected him to swivel around and try and stop himself,” Clarence pressed for the true an-swer. James had almost hushed his answer up. “It wasn’t me. It was…” James looked down, and crossed his arms “I am not telling you anything.” “Well, I can assume from that he was pushed.” James sat down next to Clarence. “What do I do with these?” James asked. “Swallow them. It is only Ivysaur’s sleep powder. It isn’t anything dangerous, it’s just a sedative, it’s a little less than what I gave to Kitiku and Andrew. I allowed them both to have a stronger dose.” “Okay…” James replied, nervously. “You don’t have to take them if you don’t want to. I trust you to make your own choice.” James closed his eyes and put the tablets in his mouth. He tried to swallow them without water. Upon realising they weren’t going down his throat he quickly grabbed a glass and poured some water in, before drinking. “Good. I suggest you get comfortable. I will wake you up in a few hours.” James nodded as he curled himself up and closed his eyes and tried to get comfortable. “I threw up again,” James whispered, slightly afraid. “It is okay. We will get that checked when we get back to Fehahra.” James desperately tried to block out the pain from his bite and the shock he had received from spitting up blood in the corri-dor. “Incaresta, what can you tell me about these boys from personal experience?” “Sir?” “What do you make of them? Any quirks worth noting?” “I don’t understand, sir. Why are we talking in Colrat?” Sutton queried. “We are guests in their region. We may now own these areas of the North, but we are still guests. By speaking their language we can connect with them more. Also, it is a good way to practice speaking their language, by talking to each other.” Clarence answered. He carefully watched James, who hadn’t quite drifted off yet. “Yes, sir. Well, Andrew is the youngest and he follows his brother like a Mareep on fire. Kitiku is very shy as you have detected. Him and Hamés ar-” “James and he,” Clarence corrected. “Oh, sorry, sir. Hamés and he are brothers. They don’t look it though, to anyone who didn’t read the files it would be impossible to note,” Clarence laughed a little. “Yes. Your accent is very strong still by the way, we will work on that. The more we practice the better we get,” Clarence smiled. “I have a point of curiosity about those two, which I need to in-vestigate further. Do they have the same mother or?” “Tak Bryson would never have an affair. It isn’t part of his… how do you say it in this language, sir?” “Personality?” “Yes, sir. I owe him my life.” “Please, don’t call me sir. It makes me feel like I am this terrifying monster,” Clarence scolded, be-fore pressing, “How so? Also how is that relevant to his personality?” “Slavers in Akrat.” Sutton said, “Captain.” He added. “He saved me from them. I don’t know how. That ungrateful Octillery though… Tak is more of the hero who people don’t see or think of. He also lost his eldest son at Marsten Hall and mourns regularly. His bravery is commendable, but I don’t think he would be brave enough to anger Giratina, by having an affair while married.” “I see. What about Lioa?” “Ah, Lioa and Andrew lost their father in the early days of the war from memory. Lioa hates us for it. I just don’t understand, sir, Lioa blames us for something that was just a case of Giratina’s bal-ance in this world.” “You forget, these people do not believe the same religious texts as us. They believe in several different ones.” Clarence stopped and he slowly started to move his hand up and down on James’s arm in a gentle fashion to aid the boy in falling asleep. “Lioa is angry because we, for a better word, destroyed, part of who he is. What about James?” “He causes trouble on a regular basis. He and Lio-, sorry,” Sutton paused to correct his grammar, “Lioa and he are constantly up to no good, for example, James destroyed some houses with that defective Onix of his and Lioa destroyed an entire shop with that Gurdurr. What are you going to do with these children, Captain?” Sutton looked at Clarence, as he asked his question “We are going to help them grow. I don’t believe in hitting or brutal punishments. They should only be used when there is no alternative. There is almost always an alternative.” “I…” Sutton started “Sir?” “Incaresta, these children will be fine. Kitiku just needs to see a doctor about that leg. James needs to be checked. They all need to go home.” Clarence ended the conversation. Sutton watched as the boys slept.
Part 3
James awoke laying on a doctor’s table. He was stressed.
The doctor had already checked the back of his throat and temperature. He had found nothing wrong.
The next step was to get a Luxray and a psychic type to peer at James brain to see if there were any patterns or damage. The Luxray would look into his mind, and the psychic type would relay the image. The idea of having someone look at his brain wasn’t something he really wasn’t too fond of. James sat up and was quickly bored of staying still. He needed to swap the papers in the new Captain’s office. Since the medical bay and Southern occupation office were in the same building he wasn’t too far from his goal. The new Captain, however, was currently watching him like a Fearow hunting a Rattata. Waiting for him to bolt for the door, and then trap him and tear him apart. If Sutton had been right.
A Luxray and Hypno entered the room. The doctor pulled out a white, soft stool which the Luxray then jumped up on. The stool stood out in the grey room. Before James could even complain about being scanned by the snarling electric beast and the creepy psychic creature the doctor had noted something down.
“The boy is fine. His brain is a little shocked still, but nothing more. He seems to be compressing a lot of irritation as he seems incredibly fidgety. I can give him something for that if you want, I can get my needle out and...” Clarence quickly raised a hand. “In that case you can go home now, boy. Unless he is yet to be punished.”
“No need for punishments tonight as this child have been through enough. How long until he stops vomiting blood?” James scowled at Clarence, who was conversing with the doctor. He disliked being referred to as a child when he was over the age minimum for a lower adult.
“He should be perfectly fine by midday. I suggest he sleeps in as he needs rest. He should have already stopped, but some people take longer to stop.”
“Very well. I shall inform his parents of that fact,” Clarence said.
Meanwhile in the next room Kitiku was squeezing Incaresta’s arm in the room next to James’. He had calmed down a little but he was still terrified. The doctor from a few nights before, the Lord, was just finishing up the checks on his blood samples, so he had been told to wait until that had been finished before he would be seen.
“Bryson… let’s see. Soldier, leave now.”
Sutton scrambled out of the room. He didn’t want a repeat incident with this Lord.
“Kitiku, your brain it’s defective.”
Kitiku looked saddened.
“Have you ever heard of a condition called Emphatziemhara?”
The boy shook his head.
“I thought not. It is a condition in which a pregnant woman is bitten by an infected Pokémon. The disease then manifests itself in the unborn child. It isn’t deadly, it just means the child is… different… broken if you will. Your brain isn’t like a normal person’s. Certain areas of your brain are… bigger. Not much bigger, but bigger. It makes you intelligent, but it also makes you defective. The time taken to register things is slower for you than a normal child.” The Lord took out a pre-prepared drawing of the brain. “Your emotional gland is bigger than it should be. In fact yours seems to be much bigger than it should be. As is your logical reasoning section. So is your responsive section. You would think that this would enhance your responses. It does not. Your brain spends more focus on your emotional gland and takes longer to send the information from place one to two.” The Lord lit his cigarette.
“I am broken?” Kitiku whispered, in pain.
“Yes.”
“Ca-can you fix me?”
“No. I can supress some of the effects, but that is all.” The Lord then took out three small tubs from his pocket. “This one is made from Lapras shells. Don’t worry, we only take from the long-dead Lapras. The bones will help slow down the growth side effects of your defection. This one,” He pointed to the second jar, “is made out of Deino hoods. This will supress lingering in the emotional section of your brain for around four-five hours. I would give you a stronger one but I don’t know if your body can handle it yet. Particularly as the side effects can include mood swings during… I am not sure what the word is in your language… in mine it is ‘tenbreks’. I suppose the Northern translation would be the ‘turning of age’.”
Kitiku nodded, understanding roughly what was going on. “This last one is made from sacred ash. Torkoal often carry it. This one will help the other two work. You take them three times a day. One each in the morning, midday and before bed.”
“My fa-father cannot…” Kitiku started.
“Quiet. We believe medicine for such illnesses should be free, the ingredients are not so hard to come by. Your leg on the other hand is another matter.” The Lord prodded it, making Kitiku wince in pain. “Your leg is shattered from the knee down. Your ankle and foot seem to have escaped without damage. Which does leave an interesting case for sure. I could just cut it from the knee down. Since I doubt you can afford to have a metal rod inserted in place of the bone.”
Kitiku nervously jumped up into a sitting position.
“Or I could just remove the shattered bones. It won’t heal correctly. Some of your bone is missing.”
Kitiku looked at the Lord’s hands, which were already holding some medical tools. “It is really up to you. Personally, if it was my choice I would cut your leg. However, it is not. In theory it is your parents’ choice, however, they are not here so the choice then falls to your current guardian. That happens to be Captain Bourbabel, and he believes you should choose. Do you want me to cut your leg, or remove the bones?”
Kitiku’s face of horror at the mention of losing his leg was enough for the Lord to know the boy’s decision immediately. “I shall arrange for you to have some crutch sticks. Also, for your Emphatziemhara you shall be supplied with a carer Pokémon. I recommend a Herdier. Herdier’s job will be to help you with stressful tasks and to fetch a doctor in the event of something bad happening to you. Herdier is not a toy. Understand?”
“Y-yes, my Lord,” the boy stuttered.
“With that, I shall inform Captain Bourbabel of what is going on. I shall then remove the bone shards in your leg, I believe you have taken Ivysaur’s sleep powder in the last five hours?”
Kitiku looked blankly at him. “I cannot give you that again. I will have to give you some stun spore instead. I apologise in advance, it will stop all pain, but it will be very uncomfortable. You will just be bored stiff, quite literally, unable to move any muscles from your neck down during the operation.”
The Lord then pushed his glasses back towards his eyes. He then wandered into the next room to fetch Captain Bourbabel.
Part 4
James got up from the table. He had been playing sleepy for the last hour. With Kitiku’s doctor summoning the officer out of the room a few minutes ago, this was his chance. He had to get to the third floor from the basement, replace the files with blank paper and get back. Unfortunately, the blank file paper was on the second floor at the opposite side of the building to the stairs. James waited for the Lords who were talking to walk past the door. He crept out. He could see the stairs to the ground floor up ahead. James seized the moment, and he darted along the narrow corridor and up the stairs. Every step he took felt more dangerous than the last. As he reached the top step he could see a soldier in the room nearest the stairs. That soldier was blocking his way up. The stairs were only three rooms down from where he was so he concocted a plan. The nearest room to him on his right was full of Pokémon. They had been confiscated or their owners had passed away. Using Sutton’s keys he opened the door. James side-stepped in a shuffle into the room. The white walled room made it seem huge. Pokémon in balls lined the draws which were stacked up from every angle. He could take two at most as his pockets couldn’t handle any more. He reached into the first draw. ‘Two will have to do’, he thought. He picked up the Cofagrigus and the Dunsparce. He released the Cofagrigus from its Poké ball and it floated down the corridor towards the soldier and it turned into a floating sarcophagus. As the soldier turned around it jumped out. The man quickly went inside the room and slammed the door in panic. James saw this as his chance to advance to the next floor, so he returned the ghost type and crept up the stairs to the first floor. A Lord was at the top of the stairs. He was discussing something with his colleague so James wasn’t going to get up to the second floor that way, he retreated down stairs. The soldier he had scared moments earlier, dashed downstairs towards the basement. James darted across the narrow corridor into an empty room. He opened the window and climbed out. He could see the drainpipe so he reached over to grab it and upon successfully doing so he started to pull himself up. He had to go up a floor. He lugged his body up to the second floor and reached over to the window on his right. Although it was locked, he still had Sutton’s keys. He reached into his pocket while holding onto the pipe tightly with his left hand. It took him a moment to realise the lock was on the inside the window so Sutton’s keys were useless. The window further along was opened, if he could get to it he would be back in the clear. “Why didn’t I steal a flying type?” James said to himself. He swung himself to the window and grabbed on, he then quickly repeated the action to the open window. He dared not look down as he pulled himself inside. There was no one in the room and across the corridor was the supplies room, the place where he could get the blank paper. He just had to cross the corridor, but the Lord was still at the end of the corridor so he would have to sacrifice a Pokémon to get there. “Dunsparce, I need you.” James aimed his roll carefully. He needed the ball to bounce off the wall in the right place and it needed to release Dunsparce. He laid on the carpet and created a groove with Dunsparce’s ball. He slid the ball and it bounced off the first wall, then the second and then once more, but the ball didn’t open. The Lord was curious as to how the Pokémon had gotten there and made an advance up the hall. James hid behind the desk in the room as he heard the footsteps get closer and closer. He held his breath. The Lord entered the room and stepped towards where James was hiding, he then heard the Lord tapping his boot against the floorboards. James closed his eyes and started to pray in his mind to Cresselia for safe passage. The Lord then said something to someone, as if he was reacting and then he walked out the room. James waited for what must have been five minutes before moving from his hiding spot. Once he reached the door he looked out carefully, the corridor was clear, but he had lost Dunsparce. However, he was still free to move around and not in a cell. James quickly raided the storage room for the paper he required. It was dark yellow. Upon going through several draws he found it. He then dashed into the corridor without looking. “Thank you Cresselia.” He whispered at the sight of it being clear and then ran up the stairs to the third floor. The office was the second door on the left, he had made it. The corridor was empty, but the office door looked locked. This was where Sutton’s keys would come in handy once more particularly as he knew which key it was. James wandered casually over to the door and went to unlock it. Upon leaning against the handle he discovered it was open already. “One less… slowing point,” he whispered. The room was pitch black, as he crept over to the filling cabinet. “James,” a voice in the dark said. The light was then switched on. The new Captain sat at his desk. “Before you ask, I took the stairs.” James scowled. “What are you doing in my office? You should be resting.” “Sleep walking?” James said, quickly. “Wait… no I mean I was just…” “You came to switch the papers in your file?” James stared at the new Captain, who seemed to have figured it all out already. “No. I…” “Empty your inside pockets please. Also put Cofagrigus on my desk, inside its ball please.” James removed the blank paper from his pockets and placed the ghost on the desk with a thud. “Good.” Clarence smiled. “Are you hungry?” James nodded. “I thought as much. I asked Sutton to bring up some extra food ready. I knew you were coming you see, a soldier was scared by a ghost, and a Lord swore to have seen a Dunsparce fly across the corridor ground. Naturally I checked on you as soon as I heard. You are a clever boy to have made it up here without being seen directly. You will have to talk me through how you did it at some point, I don’t want you to skip any details.” “Where are Lioa, and Andrew and Kitiku?” Lioa and Andrew are still in a deep sleep, I left them in a medical bay room to dream away, the doctors are monitoring them, also Kitiku’s operation should be over in around thirty minutes.” The man said, softly. “Wait… You think I am clever?” James asked. “Of course. You figured out the direction of my Tropius from the wind. That is clever. Although you can be very inexperienced.” Clarence answered, causing the boy to scowl. “Operation?” James queried, switching his mind to Kitiku. “He has to have the bone removed in his leg.” Clarence said, as he passed over some berries frozen in ice. “Anyway, why did you come to my office to replace the file paper? Done something you shouldn’t have?” James scowled. “All the records I wiped clean in terms of warnings. I don’t think it is fair to hold a judgement against someone for their past, particularly as I wasn’t there at the time to assess the situation. However, I do have a question for you.” “What kind of question?” James scoffed, as he shoved a frozen berry in his mouth while standing. “James A. Bryson, aged fourteen, born 15th February 1975. Correct?” James nodded. “Blood type unknown.” James shrugged. “Is there a reason that your blood type isn’t on record?” The boy shrugged again. “That was your question?” “No, no. I was simply curious about that.” He smiled. “The other thing, the thing, I want to ask you about is this. Excuse me.” Clarence reached into the cabinet and pulled out two files and placed them on the desk. “Please, take a seat.” James scowled, but obeyed. “Kitiku Tak Bryson, aged thirteen, born 27th August 1975. Correct?” James nodded. “Blood type O+. Now, can you spot the problem with your brother and you?” James shook his head. “You see James, I doubt you were born six months apart.” James’s face went white. “That means one of you is not the child of Tak and Nashe Bryson. That child is you.” James gulped. “That isn’t true. I was…” James started. “Oh, but it is. You see, your middle name also is a giveaway. You do not know what it is, neither do I. However, it is stated as an ‘A’. Correct?” James started to back away. “Incaresta, door please.” James turned to see Incaresta Sutton blocking his exit. “I simply want to know the truth. Bryson isn’t your last name. What is?” “I… I am not telling you anything. I am not helping the South!” James stuttered. “James, I am not angry, I just want to know the truth. Do you want me to ask Tak? I am sure he will oblige.” “Wait…” James said in a panic. “My last name is Spitz.” Sutton’s face went just as pale as James’s. “Thank you. That is all I wanted to know. Your blood type can be resolved with a simple doctor’s trip. I suggest we do so as soon as…” James shook his head. “I understand why you are nervous. Lord Piscar ordered the execution of any surviving Spitz or Rei after the incident at Marsten Hall. That is why I will only add details to the hard copy of your file. For my own personal reference. So, let’s get that checked. I can ask one of the doctors to come up now if you would like to get it out of the way.” James shook his head. “He did what? W-why are you helping me?” James asked. “I am not just helping you. I am helping my Lord. I am stopping him from making a bad decision and I also believe you shouldn’t pay for the mistakes of your parents. One last question: why Spitz and not Rei?” “Carla was my mother. My father died before I was born.” “I see. Thank you for your honesty.” Clarence made an amendment to the file, he assumed James meant his father’s sanity. “What were you doing at the festival?” “Simply put, I wanted to take part in your culture. There is no greater way to watch over your people than with an understanding of how and why things work. Come, let’s get you back to the basement. I think you and Kitiku should be heading home soon.” He smiled. Kitiku rested his head on the pillow. He was still terrified. At least he believed this Lord was on his side. The Lord had explained, during the operation on his leg, how the blood test revealed small cells in his blood stream that shouldn’t have been there if he was normal. His leg ached from being cut open and having the pieces of bone removed. The Lord took a seat by his side. “Boy, you look pale.” The Lord stated in an abrupt manner. Kitiku looked towards his direction but not at him. “Have you been eating? Or are you playing stupid and fasting like the rest of the Northern rabble?” The Lord didn’t need to wait for an answer before he continued. “Poorly educated rabble. Giratina is the only idol that matters. On the topic of things that matter… your blood type is O+ correct?” “Y-yes, my L-” Kitiku went to answer. “I didn’t ask for you to speak.” Kitiku gulped nervously. “I want you to donate some blood on a regular basis. O+ is very rare on Coltar. It can only be healed by itself. O+ people who have accidents are less likely to live because of these two factors. Defective boy, but decent blood. I will take it even though your blood is… damaged.” He placed a hand on Kitiku’s cheek. “I wish I could make it better, I really do. My mother had it. It is one of the reasons why I wanted to study medicine once I made was selected as a Guard. Of course I could have done medicine as a student instead, at the Southern Lord’s castle. However, I am also good at killing. How did you come by your injury again?” Kitiku went to use sign language but was quickly stopped. “Words, not signs.” “I was pushed of a roof,” Kitiku whispered. “Then thrown by a Machoke.” “Rough day then. Shattered leg, and being told you are defective.” The boy looked down, quietly, as the Lord continued to talk. “Maybe I can cheer you up with this.” He went into his pocket and took out a red bag with berry coated jelly treats inside. He then placed three in Kitiku’s hands, before placing a hand on his head. Kitiku signed the words ‘many thanks’, before starting to chew on them. “Good boy.” “My Lord,” Clarence spoke softly as he entered the room. He was holding James by the scruff of his neck to stop him from running. “Shall I take these boys home?” He lowered his head as a symbol of respect as he was unable to bow fully. “That runt is here too? I demand he be punished severely,” the Lord barked. “No need for further punishment as he has already received some,” Clarence lied. “In that case, take them home. Here is the notes on the boy. Ensure his parents receive it.” The Lord pulled Kitiku to his feet and shunted him forward. Kitiku caught himself on his wooden crutches which he had tucked under both of his arms. “I shall see you next Friday, boy. Do not be late.” James walked slowly as an attempt to irritate the new Captain in to making a mistake. Clarence was no fool. He could see what James was planning. His grip tightened. Kitiku slowly pulled himself along. He was exhausted already and he had only just reached the stairs. “James, stay here,” Clarence said as he picked up Kitiku and carried him up the stairs. James waited for the officer to take the first step. He then made a mad dash down the corridor. Before he could get very far, however, he found himself frozen. “I told you not to move. I will be back in a moment.” Hishrak smirked at the boy who was frozen inside a psychic field. “This isn’t funny. Put me down! I didn’t do anything. Put me down!” James shouted. “I’ll let Okta flatten you!” Clarence came back downstairs and spoke calmly. “Do you want to stay in a psychic field? Or are you going to co-operate with me? I will happily let Hishrak carry you home like that.” “Fine. I don’t care. I hate the South and I hate you,” James shouted louder. Something he regretted quickly upon seeing Kitiku’s doctor appear from a room further down the corridor. “Just let me go! I didn’t do anything.” The doctor slapped James hard around the back of the head. “Be quiet, boy.” The Lord scowled. “Be grateful your punishment is for the Captain to decide, and not me. Do you have something to say? No. Good.” “James, let’s get you home.” Captain Bourbabel motioned for Hishrak to drop James. “Ouch,” James said as he hit the ground. “Why did you…” The Lord shot a stare at James as a warning. “Yes, sir.” James hung his head. He was ashamed he had given in, but he didn’t want to spend the night in a cell, nor did he want the Lord to find out his big secret. The secret the Captain had already uncovered. James’s bite gave off a twinge and he held his breath. The quiet streets gave off an escapists’ vibe. James could easily run away. The Captain wasn’t holding him by his scruff. A thought in his mind danced around like it was at Marsten Hall ball. If he was to make a run for it, would Kitiku be punished for it? He didn’t know how Clarence would react to his attempts. “Are you keeping up okay Kitiku?” Clarence asked. Kitiku puffed. His arms were aching all over. “Would you like Hishrak to carry you? You have done well to make it as far as you have so far. Practicing with those now will help you later.” Kitiku nodded. “Good. Hishrak, psychic.” Hishrak lifted Kitiku in the air effortlessly. “I could have done this earlier, but that would have been unproductive for you. I cannot be around to carry you all the time.” Clarence smiled. “Sir, when we get home, what are you going to tell Tak?” James asked. “I will tell him you have been assisting me, all night. Kitiku, you have been really quiet since you woke up. Are you okay?” The boy looked at James for help. “He is fine. He just doesn’t want to talk right now,” James snapped before remembering how much trouble he was in. “Well, this has been a nice walk and all… but I think I should be going.” James went to run. He couldn’t take it anymore. Hishrak used psychic and dangled James upside down. “Now, now, Hishrak. I don’t want him to be sick.” Hishrak rolled his eyes as he turned James the right way up. “James, Hishrak can out speed you.” “I don’t care. I can’t take this anymore. I hate the South and I hate you and I just want you to leave.” James said in a frustrated manner. “James, I know, you don’t and I won’t.” James went to snap back but realised they were being watched. “Let’s move, quietly. Soon as you are home you can get the rest you need.” “Yes, sir,” James whispered. This man wasn’t going to let him go. James didn’t say another word. It was almost serene. As the group reached the Bryson household Hishrak put Kitiku down. The time was 4:45 am. Clarence reached forward and knocked on the door. Tak had wandered down the stairs to answer. He was stressed. Clarence could tell from the man’s immediate dress. His shirt was hanging out, and wasn’t ironed. He had been drinking. “Kitiku. You are in so much trouble, boy. You.” Tak went to grab James who hid behind the Captain. “I want you out of my household. You harmed my defective son.” “Mister Bryson, please. These boys have been with me. My name is Captain Clarence Bourbabel. I am now in charge in this town.” Clarence offered his forearm, to which Tak accepted. “Kitiku has a shattered left lower let. He needs to rest it. Also his doctor has prescribed three different medicines he needs to take every day, three times. There is no charge for his medication.” Tak sighed out of relief. “What about the runt?” Tak pointed at James. “He hasn’t been well either. His doctor suggested he rest. That means no trouble. Also, I would like to hold a town meeting. How would I do such a thing?” Clarence asked. “Well, you just need to put up a notice. Although, the South banned our town meetings so I guess…” “From this moment on they are no longer banned. I shall put up a notice for a town meeting.” Clarence said. Oosho had been watching from the steps. He puckered his way over to the door. “Who is this friendly Octillery?” “Oosho. Back,” Tak commanded. The Octillery then let out a grumble and puckered back inside. “Oosho is not friendly. He is moody. Sorry to ask Captain but can you carry Kitiku upstairs to his bed? I unfortunately cannot. Old war wound…” “I understand. Sutton said you saved him from some slavers. Is that true?” Clarence asked, as he picked up Kitiku. “James, come please.” James followed closely. “It is. Poor man. Oosho may be moody, but it comes in handy. He has a wide move set. He could counter everything the slavers owned.” “Did you not fear for your own safety?” The officer asked, as he placed Kitiku on his bed. “James…” “I know, I know. Bed,” James grumbled. “James, be respectful please,” Tak said. “Yes, mister Bryson. Yes, Captain.” James pulled off his shirt, shoes and trousers and lay under his blanket. “I did not. Why fear something which is possible to defeat?” Tak finished. “Why indeed? I wish you a good night. Also, I want to see James tomorrow. I believe he has destroyed some of the town…” Tak scowled at James, who was already pretending to be asleep. “I shall see you at the town meeting.” Tak nodded as Clarence departed.
Part 5
Date: 20th June 1989
James climbed onto the rafters of the town hall. The entire town was present for this meeting. He laid down along the wood to get the best view of the stage as he could. Tak and Nashe Bryson were sitting in the second row. Sutton stood by the side of the stage as if he was awaiting a prompt. The seats were raised higher as one was forced to sit further and further back. The Chandelure floated around the room. The wooden stage was ready. Captain Clarence Bourbabel stepped up onto it. He was wearing the same clothing he had worn the first time they had met. He didn’t wish to intimidate the townsfolk. He wanted them to see him as one of their own. “Good evening, all. I am glad you could make it. I wish to firstly introduce myself. I am Clarence Bourbabel, Captain of the Southern army. I am in charge of the occupation of Fehahra.” The crowd murmured a little. “Now, I am not here to make things miserable. I want to improve your lives. I also want to stop any resistance activity. Resistance activity shall be met with force. Now that is out of the way, let’s discuss the main agenda.” He stroked his moustache. James listened in carefully. “First topic I wish to discuss is the topic of the Pokémon ban. I wish to revoke it. I believe that, with training and support, using Pokémon in day to day life would be constructive. Therefore, I wish to remove the need for a permit inside of Fehahra. In its place, however, I would like every Pokémon to be registered once owned. This is a more effective measure of control than a total ban.” The crowd seemed to be pleased with this proposal. James was pleasantly surprised. He could use Okta wherever he wanted if this proposal was allowed. “All in favour?” All but three of the crowd raised a hand. “All against? It seems this motion is popular. I shall see what I can do.” Clarence took a deep breath. One topic down without the need to get out large amounts of pro-arguments. “The next topic of importance. Currently, the age of an adult in the South is twenty-five. In the North it is twelve. I wish to amend that. I know it is against Northern tradition. However, I believe by extending the age of childhood, the young people of Fehahra have a much larger chance to grow as people. In addition to this, I believe all young people, between the ages of six and twenty-five should undergo education.” “That’s a lie!” James heard one of the women in the crowd shout out. “They want to brainwash the children!” an older gentleman screamed. “Now, that is not what I have in mind at all. Young people in the North have a much harder life than in that of the South, despite our huge weather disadvantage. Northern children and adults, have no means of operating advanced machinery, furthermore, Northern doctors are few. Diseases in the North are much more deadly than that in the South. Not because the strains are different, although it does happen on occasion, but because the doctors in the North are ill-educated and rely on… prayer orientated medicines.” Clarence expected the backlash this time. “Who do you think you are?” “They want to inject our children with their poisons!” “Please, hear me out. Educating your children will help them later in life. It is their right to…” Clarence tried to reason with the angry crowd. “You don’t know what we need!” someone shouted from the back of the room. To which Tak stood up. “He knows more than what most people here do. I was educated. I know how important knowledge is. I maybe just a labourer now. However, my past tells you all what you can achieve if you are educated. When I was injured in the last war, I was treated by a Southern doctor. Not a Northern one. The Northern doctor was going to allow the Shellos to drain the blood from my shoulder. The Southern doctor, who happened to be my prisoner, advised against it. Rather he offered to use a Chansey egg on it. To which my wound was healed. Education is important. However, you will not, brainwash the young into believing your religion is correct. Our children’s primary language shall remain Colrat!” “I had no intention of forcing a religious change, or a language change. I just believe your children should have the right to access knowledge.” Tak nodded. “All in favour of education for children between six and twenty-five?” Tak raised his arm. To which much of the crowd copied. Once the votes were counted, Clarence felt relieved his idea had passed the majority of the town’s opinion. “I shall, once again, see what I can do.” “The topic of child slaves. I want to ban child slavery within Fehahra completely.” Clarence knew immediately he had stepped too far out. “No. That is part of Master Filktas’ rule,” the old gentleman shouted out. “He is a traitor to Master Filktas!” Tak stood up once more. “He is entitled to an opinion! Shut up. It is an opinion that we all disagree with but it is his opinion nonetheless. Captain Bourbabel, as much as your intentions may be… noble… we are not interested in opposing Master Filktas,” Tak stated as bluntly as he could. “I understand. May I suggest these children be allowed to be educated, however? As a compromise between our points of view.” Tak nodded. “All in favour?” Just under half the room raised a hand. “All against?” It was clear he had lost this point of debate… for now. “Final topic I wish to discuss tonight. I am aware you believe in fasting one day a week in accordance with your idols. In order to make working much more… effective… I recommend those who fast also have that day off of work, as well as the standard Wednesday holy day practice. This will allow everyone to get rest and be able to perform much more efficiently.” Upon receiving no outbursts or complaints, Clarence didn’t feel the need to expand his argument further. “All in favour?” To his surprised the entire room raised a hand. “In summary: children (now classed by those under 25 years old) shall attend school every day, except Wednesday from 8 am until 4:30 pm. We shall stagger this in, starting with one day a week up to six. Educators will be found. If a child fails to attend without a valid reason, you will be fined. Also, adults may have their day of fast, and Wednesday off. Finally the Pokémon ban will be replaced by a registration initiative.” Clarence was pleased. Three out of his four motions had gained the support of the town. He now just needed to obtain the supplies and tools he required from Lord Piscar. “This guy just made Pokémon use legal?” James said, slightly confused as to what had happened. James watched on as the townsfolk left the building. He slowly edged his way back to a place from which he could climb down. Once he reached such a location, he carefully climbed down. He had to get back to the Bryson’s home before Tak and Nashe. |
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girl-like-substance
the seal will bite you if you give him half a chance
Posts: 527
Pronouns: xe/xem
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Post by girl-like-substance on Aug 22, 2019 22:07:39 GMT
Oof. Our narrator doesn’t care for raticate, do they? Can’t imagine why. Beachball rat is, as the kids say, shaped like a friend. :V
Or, in other words – it’s been a while, so it’s time to catch up! I think the stylistic critique has been adequately covered in previous reviews, mine and others, so I’ll just note that a lot of it still stands (the awkward phrasing, spelling and grammar, that kind of thing), and move on to more substantive things. Get to grips with the characters and story, in other words, because there’s a lot of interesting ground to cover here.
Clarence, for one. Like he’s helping James on and off throughout the battle; he wants to see him do well, wants to encourage his battling potential. Because like, he clearly has some potential if he made it here to the end of the tournament – he’s only fourteen, after all, and fourteen-year-olds don’t make it to the finals of a giant contest like that unless they’ve got something going for them. Clarence gives him just enough guidance to see if he can solve the puzzle; like, he could’ve won this fight in a couple of seconds, so the only reason to keep it going is to encourage him and to test his mettle. Feels like a natural evolution of his character – mysterious, kindly strangers do have a habit of turning into mentors in fiction – but like, it’s still a very interesting one. Because, y’know, up till now, we’ve really known nothing at all about him except for his hyper-competence.
And then, of course, the revelation. It’s so good to see (a) someone with a modicum of common sense and empathy in this world dominated by teenage aggression and petty tribalism and (b) someone willing to approach complex situations with subtlety and nuance. You can see the impact it has on James immediately; it’s so confusing and terrifying to him, because he’s trapped in between his liking for Clarence and his hatred for the South, only able to see the issue in black and white and therefore completely incapable of taking the road between them outlined in grey. I have to admit, I feel for him here; the whole thing reminds you how much of a kid he is, even if he is also the kind of kid you wouldn’t actually want to meet, lol.
Anyway, I’m sure all this is going to be placed under a lot more strain as things go on, particularly as more of Clarence’s proposed reforms come into play. James obviously only really focuses on the one about pokémon, but, well. The others are absolutely going to affect him too, I can tell – which should be very interesting to see, since school seems like an environment to which someone as addicted to rebellion as James will have quite a bit of difficulty adjusting!
Also, I’m curious to find out how exactly Lioa and Kikitu’s relationship is going to evolve from here. Like Lioa’s thoughtlessness has resulted in Kikitu suffering a major injury with permanent consequences; if that isn’t a wake-up call, I don’t know what will be for this boy, tbh. I mean, I was all set to make a joke about how James is like “Let’s distract him. I know! I’ll fight him!”, but lbr, that really quickly gets overshadowed by how badly wrong the incredibly dumb plan of “toss a child off a roof” goes. At least James jumps in to help out afterwards, I guess. Felt a sudden surge of affection for the kid then. Didn’t last long. Just thought I’d mention it. :V
Of course, I’m also enjoying the little world details, too: tie knots indicating rank, the way heal pulse feels, where medicines are derived from. Coltar continues to be crunchy and satisfying to dig your teeth into!
One thing that confused me, however, was the conversation where Clarence gets James’ surname out of him. This bit in particular:
Clarence calls him ‘Spitz’ in that first bit, before he’s got James to tell him his surname. Are we to take it that he’s already guessed it and is tricking James into admitting it? But James doesn’t seem to notice that he calls him by his birth surname, so I thought maybe it was a typo.
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Post by Cavespider_17 on Aug 29, 2019 16:34:06 GMT
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"Don't be afraid to be afraid, brother.
Be afraid of letting it beat you."
- Pierre Bryson, 1987, Fehahra
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Part 1
“Kitiku and James, get down here now. We need to have a talk,” Tak called up the stairs.
James, who was relaxing on his bed, sat up. He had been thinking about how he would now be legally able to challenge and defeat Clarence and save the town from the evil of Lord Piscar.
Oosho came into the room. He let out an angry cry, and then left.
“Now, boys!” Tak shouted again, as the man started to grow impatient.
“Yes, mister Bryson, sir,” James called down politely. He rushed to get down the stairs.
Kitiku on the other hand struggled. His hands and arms were sore from carrying his body weight on the wooden crutches. He reached the top of the stairs. As he went to crutch down the first step he lost his balance and tumbled down, bruising his wrists and knees.
“Kitiku, are you okay?” James asked, helping his friend up.
“Stupid defective boy. You can’t even walk down stairs anymore,” Tak grumbled. “If you were Pierre things would be different. You wouldn’t have even had such an injury in the first place. Nor a condition that affects this!” Tak pointed to his head. “Why do the idols punish me by taking my best son?”
James placed his hand on Kitiku’s shoulder as Tak went to sit down at the table.
“Don’t worry about what he says. You are an amazing friend. Never forget that,” James whispered. The boys each took a seat at the table opposite Tak and Nashe.
“Now, you may be wondering why I am not at work today. It is now illegal to work on a Wednesday, unless you are an active serving soldier, policeman, fire stopper, doctor, Lord, or have a permit. Generally money wise, things are looking bad. We were going to have to cut rations to the house to stay afloat. However, the new Captain has doubled the amount of food and supplies reaching the town since yesterday. Therefore we can get enough food to cope since prices and ration values have suddenly gone down,” Tak sighed.
James noted that Tak seemed relieved.
“However, the new Captain has also made education compulsory until one turns twenty five. Tomorrow you will attend ‘school’. It starts at 8am and ends at 4:30pm. It will be exhausting but I am sure you boys can handle not being in trouble for once. Although, I was planning on getting you, to work at the port with me.” Tak pointed and James, “Although, some knowledge would definitely do you some good. Meanwhile, I have to assist in the building of the actual ‘school’. I have a permit to work, I just don’t start for another two hours. The Captain has cleared up the destruction caused by you and that monstrosity, James.”
“She isn’t a monster. She is important to me,” James answered back.
Tak glared at him. “You were missing for two days because of her. You even had the audacity to get Archapelo Criborn to lie to me about where you were! If it wasn’t for Oosho I would have thought you were both dead,” Tak shouted as he slammed on the wooden table. James hung his head. “The building will be where you destroyed those empty houses. Until it is built, which should be Saturday, you will go to the town hall. I assume tomorrow the Captain will just want to explain things to you all.”
“I don’t want to do what he wants. He is the enemy,” James spat.
“He is here to make our lives better. Don’t you understand? The North lost this town. The South now own us. Lord Piscar owns you.”
“He doesn’t own me. He never will. I won’t let the South win,” James shouted back. He was irritated at, what he believed to be, Tak’s submission.
“James, stop. You are acting immature. At least my defective son doesn’t argue back. He doesn’t add anything, like Pierre would have, but at least he actually obeys me. Sometimes I wonder why I took you in after Marsten Hall. Maybe I should just leave you in the streets.”
“Okta and I can cope. We are strong!”
“Sure. When you get hungry what are you going to do? Steal? If you get caught you will be arrested. Then the Southern Guard will get involved. You wouldn’t last a week, boy!”
“I’ll battle you. I can beat you. I don’t care what you used to be. You are just an old man who is a traitor now.”
“I am a traitor? Is that it? You have a lot to learn.” Tak got up from the table and walked out.
“James, that was rude,” Nashe said, softly. “Go and apologise.”
The red-haired boy got up from the table and walked out onto the street. Tak stood leaning against a wall opposite the house.
He was smoking a cigarette.
“Mister Bryson?” James started. Tak looked at him once and then focused back on his cigarette. “I…”
“Your mother would have been so disappointed,” Tak said, his voice muffled.
“I just…”
“You want to fight the inevitable. You think people who don’t immediately side with you are traitors. That is very rude and unfair. Do you not remember the mercy I showed you when your mother and step-father died at Marsten Hall?”
James rested his head against Tak’s chest. Tak placed his right hand on the boy’s head. James’s thoughts wandered into the past.
Part 2
Date 26th April 1988
Tak sat the thirteen year old down on his chair. He pushed the hair out of James’s face. James had coughed up some blood, and was badly bruised on one side of his face. He was still shaking. Kitiku was shaking too. The Southern army had already taken up to Finar town in the two days after the explosion and fire at Marsten Hall. The Lords of the North and Northern Army were in a complete panic. Tak was treating some of the wounded as best he could. However, he was not a doctor. “James, why did you go out there?” Tak asked. “I wanted to fight the South. They killed my mother.” “You look hungry.” James nodded quickly to Tak’s statement. “Would you like something to eat? You have been friends with my sons for years, even before Pierre was recruited to fight alongside his Lordship. I wonder what he is up to. I haven’t seen him since Marsten Hall.” Tak placed a bowl of mashed berries into James’s hands. “Thank you mister Bryson.” James scoffed the berries as quickly as he could. He looked around. There were several Northern soldiers in extreme pain, suffering with all sorts of wounds, on the floor. “The South did all that?” “Lord Jackson did most of that. His Houndoom mega evolved and some of these soldiers were too close when it happened. They weren’t prepared for it and then were hit by dark pulse and then a heat wave. Those who got hit by the heat wave will be in pain permanently. A Houndoom flame burns for eternity on the skin of the victim.” Tak looked at the wounded. “Some of them are young. Some younger than you. I don’t understand why Lord Madison sent his youngest trainee Guards into battle first.” He shook his head. “So they could prove themselves, mister Bryson?” “Sending someone to their death is not proving oneself.” “Particularly as Lord Jackson is leading this attack. He has been leading the attack since the South attacked Quigk, the capital.” “Who is Lord Jackson?” James said. His mouth filled with berries. He almost spat some out as he spoke. “Lord Jackson is the Captain of the Southern Guard. He is the leading authority if Lord Piscar is engaged.” “Why would he dance?” “Engaged as in busy, not as in at dancing class. Although, I could imagine him in a dress. Can you?” Tak smiled. James and Kitiku laughed. My dear off islanders, the word ‘Neraka’ in Colrat means to be busy or a dance class.
“Thank you for the food mister Bryson,” James said, as he got up from the chair and started to rush back towards the door. “Where are you going?” Tak called out, grabbing James by the scruff of his neck. “To fight Lord Jackson. We must stop the South!” “James, you are thirteen years old. This war ground is no place for you.” “I am an adult! I can fight how I want!” James squirmed. “How about this instead? You want to fight the South? You can help me here. I need you to get me some string. Can you do that for me?” Tak asked, his voice had softened. “Sure, where is it?” James asked. “Upstairs, in the bathroom. I have to go outside. I need to do something quickly.” Tak, brushed his hand against James’s head. The town was on fire in the West. Tak could see the flames burning brightly. He stepped out onto the street. The Northern army was in rapid retreat. The younger Guards were crying and panicked. Several of the Guards from the North had called out to him to ‘get inside’. Tak didn’t listen. He stepped towards the flames. That was where the wounded would be. Northern, or Southern these people needed to be moved off the battlefield as soon as possible. “Oosho, are you ready? I might need you to clear the path.” The Octillery slugged its way out of its capsule. “Good,” Tak said as he bent down beside a Lord’s body and picked up his shield. ‘This shield is badly damaged. It means it weighs less, but it won’t hold for as long.’ he thought. “I am relying on you.” Oosho scowled as Tak looked at him. “Heat wave incoming. Oosho use protect!” Tak ducked down behind the shield. He made his body as small as possible as the wave slammed into the shield. Sure enough, parts of the shield buckled under the attack. “Selfish Octillery.” Oosho let out a moody cry, as it dropped the protective wall it had only put up around itself. “Tak? Tak Bryson?” A voice called out from the smoke. “Hey, you are still alive? I figured you would be dead by now.” A friendly laugh followed. “Miro. Miro what is going on up there?” Tak called back. “The Southern army has taken control of the town’s key water supply. Lord Madison has ordered us to retreat to Shmitty. The large forest can be of assistance to us. Are you coming?” “I can’t Miro”. Tak stepped forward into the direction of the smoke. “I have a wife and two children. I can’t abandon them here.” “Take them with you?” Miro Herriksen, the Northern Lord shouted, as Tak’s voice faded into the distance. “Tak?” “Mister Bryson wait!” Tak turned around to see James had followed him. He panted. “I… I have… the string… for you.” “Good boy.” Tak took it off of James. “Now, go back to the house.” “I want to fight them…” “Go back to the house. That is an order soldier!” Tak demanded. He decided to treat this boy like a soldier, that way he would listen. James turned around and ran back towards the house.In the smog he could hear Elkrat being spoken. He took a deep breath before calling out a command. “Oosho, hydro pump!” The Octillery suffered a mood swing. His evasiveness dropped, as he started to have a tantrum. He was cold, it was too smoky, and he didn’t like Tak telling him what to do… Oosho was listing all the reasons why his life was unfair. His attacking power increased as did his tantrum, and his hydro pump gushed forward. He scored a direct hit on something. The smoke cleared. He was closer to the Southern army that he feared. 20 feet in front of him, Lord Jackson’s Houndoom stood. It snarled at him, unfazed. “This town is only for the wounded now,” Tak said as loudly as he could. Lord Jackson wasn’t there. ‘Maybe he got held up?’ Tak thought. “This town is now only for the wounded,” Tak said again, this time in Elkrat. Tak took out a scrap of paper from his pocket. The Houndoom came closer. It puffed hot air towards Tak’s face. “Take this to your master,” he ordered. He scribbled onto the paper. ‘Fehahra is littered with wounded. Allow us to move them to a safe place before the fighting continues.’ The black, bone coated creature took the note, which had been sealed in an envelope, and wrapped around in string into the smoke behind it. A few minutes past. “You have an hour to move the wounded off of the streets, however you see fit. After that, I will decide what to do with you all,” a smug voice said, it was slightly distorted due to the Metagross voice box he was speaking into. The voice was deep. It was fear inducing and unmistakable. It was clearly Lord Jackson, known for slaughtering most of the Northern army in the first battle of the war. The man had a notoriety for interrogating prisoners in such ways, which would make them break down and change. His kill record since they day he became Captain of the Southern Guard was duly noted as the highest kill count recorded during war and peace times. In the Southern Civil War, which started ten to eleven years prior, the man had supposedly wiped out the former ruler of the Southern Captain’s top twenty Guards with a single blade and his Houndoom. Rumour continued that he then let the Houndoom maul on the corpses. However, Tak had come to the conclusion that the latter was just falsified to make the man scarier, or at least that is what he hoped. Further rumour had it that Lord Jackson then crushed the Captain’s team, and had tortured the then Captain before letting his Houndoom finish him off. Again, something Tak was praying to be just rumour. However, upon seeing the beastly Houndoom up close, the old Guard started to fear it was all true. Although, he prayed that the man would be reasonable. Tak feared seeing the man at close range, due to the fact he appeared to be the last thing many of the fallen had seen. Several citizens heard the voice. They rushed out of their houses and started to pull the wounded indoors, some started praying. “I suggest you hurry. My time keeping skills are… somewhat… overestimated.” The voice remained smug, but very cold. The man was nowhere in sight. Tak felt a shiver down his spine, as if he was being watched, but he couldn’t act like a coward. “Give me your word you won’t harm anyone under this ceasefire. Give me your word you will be fair and just, my Lord,” Tak called out into the smoke. He hoped for an answer. “You are brave to challenge me on my conscience. You have my word. I am fair, after all.” “Mister Bryson?” James said, Kitiku standing next to him. Tak jumped up, he was a little nervous. “I told you to go to the house!” Tak shouted. “We want to help,” James whispered. “Oosho, go supply clean water to those who need it.” The Octillery rolled its eyes as it squelched back along the streets. “James, Kitiku, go home. Now.” Kitiku ran back toward the house. James started to walk back, sulking. “I never thought I would get so bored. I have changed my mind. I give you fifteen minutes to clear your wounded and formerly surrender,” the voice called out after five minutes. “Then, my Houndoom and I will destroy anyone who wishes to fight some more. If the town doesn’t surrender… I will be forced to kill everyone in it. See you in fifteen minutes at the town hall for your surrender, brave soldier.” Tak swallowed hard. Lord Jackson was not merciful. This man may just murder him to make an example of him. He said it in Colrat, not Elkrat, despite it being clear that the one who sent the message (himself) could read and speak Elkrat. It was done to inspire fear, as was the drastic reduction in time available to move the wounded. After the fifteen minute time period, Tak stood at the town hall nervously. A tall man approached him. “You must be the soldier. You aren’t a soldier though are you?” The man watched as Tak bowed down to him. He held a sword steadily in his hands. Tak lifted his stolen sword up, to show the town had surrendered. “Oh no, it’s too late for that. You see, this runt sent out his Onix during the ceasefire. Whether he was assisting the wounded or not is not relevant. It was too close to us.” The man held James up by his jacket. “He is awfully light. Maybe you Northerners don’t feed your children. Either way, the ceasefire is over. Enjoy being destroyed.” “You are not the man from the speech,” Tak said. His eyes narrowed. “Lord Jackson is… busy. I am Lord Clavouro. I am head of interrogation, and I see no reason why I should keep Lord Jackson’s word.” The purple haired Lord then noticed his injector had a message. The needle dug deep into his vein on his right wrist. The black leather held it in place. A small pad sat on the upper side of the leather. It was Metagross technology. It emitted a blue light. The psychic impulses could measure heart rates, and detect functionality of an individual or Pokémon. The needle was used to drain a Lord’s blood. The blood would then be dripped through a wire and mixed in with several other ingredients to create a potion to heal a Pokémon. The more blood you used the healthier your team could become, but at a cost to your own life. “Very well. Lord Jackson demands I keep his conditions true. This boy though came too close. Peasant, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t destroy him.” Tak fell silent. He couldn’t think of something that would be considered reasonable. This man was clearly only interested in violence. “At least you are honest.” The Lord dropped James to the floor before kicking him once in the ribs. “Let that be a lesson to you, boy. Take him home. Lord Jackson will finish tidying up this mess. Tell me, is there a living Spitz or Rei here?” Tak shook his head. He knew it was a lie. He knew this interrogator would detect a lie if he wasn’t careful. He looked the Lord directly in the eyes, and straightened his bowed down body. “No, my Lord. There is not.” “Very well. If there is, and you have lied to me, you will die alongside them. That filth. Both families must be destroyed. They are nothing more than murderers.” The Lord snatched the sword from Tak and walked away. James walked alongside Tak back to the house where he had been fed. “It is just a nasty bruise,” Tak said, holding James’s shoulder. “It will heal in about a week if you are lucky.” James nodded. “Where will you go? You cannot live on the streets.” The scraggy boy shrugged. “I think I will regret this, but… I used to be a dear friend of your mother… before he came. I don’t think she would ever forgive me if I let you live out there. Stay, with me and my wife and sons. At least until you turn fifteen. Once you turn fifteen you can leave if you desire.” James looked Tak in the eyes and nodded. This man was kind. “He said my mother and stepfather were murderers what did h-,” James went to ask before Tak interrupted. “Never mind. I am sure Lord Jackson or Lord Piscar will sort out the occupation tomorrow and our lives can get back to as normal as possible,” Tak said calmly. The next few days were incredibly difficult for Tak. He found out through a letter addressed to him, from Lord Piscar, that Pierre had been killed at Marsten Hall. To put a finer point on it, his son was mauled by the Charizard. Despite Lord Piscar’s orders to destroy every last Charmander, Charmeleon and Charizard to avenge all those killed in the attack, Tak felt incomplete. He changed his demeanour. He became gruffer as a person. He became more displeased with his living son. James was reluctantly given Pierre’s bed to sleep in. Whenever Pierre was home he shared a room with Kitiku. The bed was small but it was enough. The morning of the 29th the South had begun to carefully document the inhabitants of Fehahra. They were combing through the houses carefully. The occupation laws had been set in motion quickly. Tak had overheard several times that the Southern forces had become bogged down by the forest and tricky terrain near Shmitty town. The Northern forces had been strapping exploding Qwilfish and self-destructing Pokémon to trees and the rocks in the forest. The kill rate was horrendous; these Pokémon had been trained to die, and not just faint from the energy expulsion. They were to give up all energy to serve their Elite Lord. By doing so, they were killing two or three Southern soldiers as a minimum. The highest single kill was thirty Southern, and eighty Northern soldiers. “Tak?” James said, “Mister Bryson, sir? Thank you for letting me stay.” Tak reached over and placed a hand on James’s head. “When the South reach this household they will question us all. They are creating records. Lord Piscar likes to keep records of who is alive and dead, who lives where, who is what blood type, criminal records and other things. He wants us to oblige. A lady called Charleston, whatever rank she is, is in charge of this town now. Most of the Lords have either gone home or are at the front line. When her forces come round you cannot let them take your blood.” “Why Mister Bryson?” James asked curiously. “If you do, they will kill you. Also call me father from now on when other people are around. Your name is James Bryson. You live at the Bryson household. You have no criminal record and you will behave. Okay?” Tak spoke sternly. “I am keeping you safe. I won’t let an innocent man or woman kill an innocent boy for his bloodline.” “Mister Bryson, why would they want to kill me? What did I do?” “I am not sure. If I ever find out I will tell you.”
Part 3
“I’m sorry,” James whispered. Tak rubbed the top of James’s head gently. “I didn’t mean what I said. I just felt so angry. I hate things now. I miss my old life. It has been a year of the South being here. A year of this. Why won’t Lord Madison repel them? Why won’t he send them back through Fehahra?” “I know you are upset. I do not know why. I think Lord Madison has a stronghold in Shmitty town at the moment. He is probably building a big one in Graeor City. This new Captain doesn’t seem too bad though. Does he?” Tak raised James’s chin, so their eyes met. “I would have won… he beat me in the finals. I could have done it. I just wanted to mean something as a person. I wanted people to understand Okta and I are not just runts.” “You cannot change what you are. You are either born broken, a runt, or preferred. You aren’t even mine. You don’t need to prove anything to me. Just stop getting in trouble and do as this new Captain says. Our fight is over for now,” Tak puffed. “No… I don’t want it to be.” Tak pulled James in for a hug.“Hush now. Promise you will try the new Captain’s rules. Promise?” James looked into Tak’s eyes. They were cold and dark. The man was hurting inside more than ever. “I promise I will try. I don’t have to like it though.” Tak smiled at the boy’s defiance. “Go and play. Take Kitiku with you.” Captain Clarence Bourbabel stood by the river. He was looking into the blue current that danced through the town. He wasn’t wearing his full uniform. He had decided that dressing completely like a soldier would only stress the townsfolk more. Although, he still opted to carry his sword and his knife (which he concealed in his boot). His midnight blue shirt and black trousers were clean pressed. His red tie was done up in the trinity knot to symbolise who he was. He sighed and thought to himself. ‘These people, how simple their lives must have been before all of this’. He heard footsteps further down the path and turned to see what was going on. James and Lioa ran alongside each other. Andrew followed closely as Kitiku struggled to keep up. Suddenly the boys stopped running and huddled together. “They are up to mischief, Incaresta,” Clarence said. “No doubt, sir.” Incaresta Sutton walked up to him. “Let’s see what they are up to.” The two men approached the group as quietly as possible before Clarence decided to scare the group. “Stealing more keys?” James jumped and reached for Okta in his defence. Lioa did the same for Ruskuo. It didn’t take the boys a moment to send out their Pokémon. “Sir, they are attacking us!” Sutton shouted in Elkrat. “No, I think they are wanting to battle us. We scared them. This is all self-defence,” Clarence corrected. “Hishrak, end this as quickly as you can.” His ball landed, released and bounced back into his hand. He noticed James’s ball roll in front of him. Lioa had chased after his ball and was now in the middle of the battlefield. “Okta, use iron ta-”. The Captain had picked up the Poké ball and returned Okta. “Give her back; she is mine!” “I shall return her, if Lioa returns his Gurdurr,” he said, calmly. “Never. Ruskuo, use…” Lioa started. “No, she is mine. Give her back.” James rushed forward to try and snatch Okta from the man’s hand. “I’ll fight you.” James started to swing his fists but was met with an electric shock from Sutton’s Electabuzz. “Sutton, that was unneeded,” Clarence said, his voice had turned stern. “Lioa, return Ruskuo please. This is your last chance.” Hishrak readied a psychic ball. “Ruskuo, use hammer arm! Hit the Southern Captain.” The Gurdurr started to charge towards the man. “Hishrak, psychic.” The Alakazam emitted a strong pulse that pushed the Gurdurr back. He stumbled before collapsing. “I capped my strength and skill at the festival, Lioa. What you saw was nothing compared to what my Pokémon can truly do.” “Ruskuo!” Lioa returned his Gurdurr to its ball. “You will pay for that!” “Don’t make me arrest you Lioa.” Sutton raised an eyebrow at Lioa. Clarence sat James up. The boy had only just started to appear to be able to move after the attack. “Are you okay, James?” Clarence asked. “Here is your Onix. I don’t mind battling you boys, if that is what you want. However, let’s not do it here on this pathway.” He smiled. “Oh?” He felt something roll against his foot. A throwing nuoeki was on the ground. It was a slippery plump ball with large bumps all along the sides. A small girl and boy approached. They were frightened. Clarence bent down and picked up the nuoeki. He stretched out his arm and held it in his palm. “Come on, I won’t hurt you. This nuoeki belongs to you?” Clarence said, distracted from James, who was sat on the ground. The two children slowly stepped forward and took it from his hand. Sutton turned to watch what was going on. James reached up and took the keys from Clarence’s pocket and threw them to Kitiku. As he did, the little girl hugged Clarence. “You don’t need to be overbearing for these people to follow you.” James started to stand up. He ran back to Lioa, Andrew and Kitiku. “James, my keys please.” Clarence didn’t even turn around. “Scramble!” James shouted. The boys split up and started to run away as fast as they could. “May Vesx electrocute them now?” Sutton asked as he started a jog. “I would rather you reason with them first. Go for Lioa and Andrew. Kitiku and James are mine. ” He walked over to Kitiku who was struggling to crutch away. “I don’t think you are escaping anywhere, Kitiku.” Kitiku realised quickly this was the case. “Can I have my keys back please?” Kitiku reached into his pocket and handed them over. “Good boy. Let’s go to my office. We can talk there.” Incaresta saw Lioa in front of him. The smallest of the boys was certainly fast. However, not quite fast enough for Sutton. The cobbles were easy to run on in the day. Lioa sharply turned into an alleyway. He slipped and skidded for a moment before pulling himself up. “Nir, stop Andrew!” Incaresta called out in Elkrat, as he released his Fearow. He then shot down the Alley after Lioa. “Lioa, give up. I will catch you regardless. Whether you have sparks on you or not is up to you.” Lioa suddenly slowed down and stopped. He turned and went to send out Ruskuo. As the ball hit the ground the fainted Gurdurr popped out. Incaresta put his hand on Lioa’s shoulder. “Don’t touch me!” Lioa shouted. “You are the enemy. You let those Lords hurt me and Andrew. Then you let Greiss hurt us. Then you… you killed my father. It is all your fault.” Lioa was starting to get himself worked up. “Lioa that is enough. I expect the Captain wants to see you in his office. Nir will have Andrew in a minute. That just leaves Ham- Jamés.”
Part 4
James ran towards the park. It was an open green space. However, the advantage was two-fold. Although, he was open from all angles, there were plenty of people in the park. He could merge into the crowd. Also he could escape in any direction. He spotted a small bush in the corner. It was somewhere small enough for him to hide to catch his breath. He stopped his run and walked towards it.
James was blasted back. He hit the ground with a thud. A small crowd had turned to see him on the floor. His face had been bruised by where it had ploughed into the ground. He pulled himself up off the soft grass.
“What are you all looking at? I tripped,” James shouted at the crowd, who quickly went back to doing what they had been doing before. James started to walk back forward towards the bush carefully. He heard a noise. A Pokémon cry that he had never heard before. It let out a high pitch clunking noise. “Hey…” James whispered. He stepped forward and pressed his hand against an invisible field. “I am not going to hurt you.” He heard the clunk again.
The crowd was murmuring. James turned around to see what was going on. Captain Bourbabel and Sergeant Sutton were standing there, asking the crowd questions. “I will be back, okay? Whatever you are.” James stepped forward and called out at the top of his voice. “Hey, Southern idiots! I’m here! Come and get me!” Sutton reacted first, he sent out his Volcarona. Flames shot up around him.
James was trapped. “Okta, it’s on you! Use screech!”
The Onix landed just beyond the fire wall. She roared as loudly as she could.
Incaresta quickly covered his ears. “Bug buzz!”
James watched as the crowd jumped and rested their heads against the ground to avoid being affected.
“Okta, use dig,” James commanded. He watched as the white nested bug, which was cradled in its red wings, kept pumping a high pitched buzzing noise out of its mouth. He then heard the clunking noise again. The Pokémon was screaming. It was in pain.
Sutton was hurting it.
“Hit it Okta.”
Okta came up from underneath Sutton’s bug. The man jumped out of his skin. The bug withstood the attack. It continued to pump out a buzzing noise.
“Wait… Sutton, please… stop… I give up! Okta, come back to me!”
Clarence approached James carefully.
“I hate you,” James said with anger.
“Hate is such a strong word. Hold still.” The officer lifted James’s chin and had a look at the second bruise he had received that day. “That will heal in a few days. You need to be more careful though. One day you will break a bone. I believe we have some mischief to discuss in my office.”
“I don’t have your stupid keys. Leave me alone.” James went to run away but found himself under Sutton’s grip. “Ouch, okay, okay, fine I’ll come to your stupid office and talk about something I didn’t do.”
James sat down in the office. It was bigger than he remembered from the nights before. Sutton was standing on the other side of the door with his back to it. The door was a no-go for anyone trying to escape. Kitiku sat to his left. He was nervously praying to Cresselia for safe passage from the office. Lioa was slumping in his chair on his right, Andrew was on the far right. He had a sick bucket in his hands, it appeared to be the case that he suffered with vertigo.
“Lioa, don’t slouch please. It is impolite.” The boy shuffled up in his seat quietly upon being told off by the Captain. “Why did you want to steal my keys, boys? The truth if you will.”
“We were just playing,” James whispered, ‘How much does this man know?’ he thought. “We often take Sutton’s keys as a joke and we thought that you would find it as funny as he does.”
“He doesn’t find it funny at all.” Lioa had started to slouch again. “Hishrak.” The Alakazam raised a hand, forcing Lioa to sit upright. “I did ask nicely. Now… what to do with you boys? That is a difficult one. You have clearly broken the rules and should face some sort of punishment.”
Kitiku grabbed James’s hand.
“Kitiku had nothing to do with it, neither did Andrew, or Lioa. It was my idea. Leave them alone!” James snapped.
“Kitiku had the keys. Lioa tried to attack Sutton, as did you. The only one in this case who may be innocent is Andrew. However, since you were all seen plotting beforehand…” he sighed. “I could give you an official warning for this. I won’t. I have a much better idea. I’ll let you go.”
“W-why?” James asked, curiously.
“You are young, you need space to run around and play. I understand that you need to use up some energy. Children can be a handful. Something you boys certainly are. I don’t mind though. If you want to battle me to burn of extra energy, just ask.”
“I hate you. You are…” James paused and clenched his fists. “Southern jerk.” He then scooted back and reached for Okta. “Okta, it’s on you!” Before her ball could hit the ground, it was caught by Clarence.
“Not inside the building. You drop a 300 Kilo, 11 ½ metre long Onix inside a building, on the third floor, you will kill a lot of people,” his voice was stern. It dropped an octave. “You would have killed your friends, myself, Sergeant Sutton, yourself, and everyone in this sector of the offices in the floors below. Is that acceptable behaviour for a young man?”
James bolted forward to try and snatch Okta back. Clarence simply raised his arm, and lifted the ball out of the way. “Say please. Manners are priceless.”
“Give her back!” James jumped to try and reach her but was simply dodged. “Please give her back, Southern jerk.” Clarence shook his head.
“Manners.”
“Fine. I don’t care. I…” James’s bite issued a sharp stabbing pain and he stopped talking for a moment. “Please give her back,”
Clarence lowered his arm and handed the Onix back to the boy.
“Southern Jerk,” James added upon receiving his best friend.
Clarence’s attention then turned to Lioa, who was clearly still fighting Hishrak’s psychic grip.
“Lioa, if you stop fighting it Hishrak will let go. It is impolite to slump when being talked to by an adult. Andrew, you may go. You have been well behaved since you got here. I suppose you can go home.” Andrew pushed his cyan hair out of his face and quietly left the room. Lioa suddenly stopped struggling upon seeing his brother leave. True to his word, Clarence signed to Hishrak to let go. “James, Lioa no more dangerous battling. Is that clear?”
Lioa nodded.
James on the other hand crossed his arms angrily. “Lioa, you may go. James, please take a seat. Kitiku?”
James nudged Kitiku, who was fixated on his prayers. He was carefully signing every word. “You are praying?” The boy appeared to look up, but their eyes never met. “It’s okay. Sometimes I pray too. What are you praying for?” Clarence watched carefully as the boy repeated his actions. “Cresselia, humblest of all, please give us safe passage from this place. For our lives may be forced to unwillingly join you if you do not do so.” He placed a hand on Kitiku’s shoulder. “Kitiku, nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe. James, please cooperate with me rather than fight against me.”
“I will never work with the South. Lord Madison says you are the enemy of us all. You are evil people who pray to false idols. You want to kill us all. You have stayed in Fehahra a year and just tortured us with your stupid rules and unfair laws and made our lives miserable!”
“James, calm down please. Where is the proof I am evil? False idols are a matter of religious opinion. So far I have had no desire to kill anyone. I have only, personally, been in Fehahra for under a week. I haven’t tortured anyone from Fehahra and from memory never. The rules are not stupid, they are in place to keep you safe and help you grow. The laws are not unfair, they are just. Overall, the town seems pretty happy with their current overlords,” Clarence answered calmly, as he crouched down next to Kitiku, who seemed to still by cycling through his prayer.
“Kitiku?” “Leave him alone. He is just scared.”
“You are not afraid though.”
“I am not scared of anything. I am no puppet of the South.”
“I see. That is fine.” Clarence stood Kitiku up. “Would you like to go home?”
The boy nodded.
“James would you like to go home too? It is starting to get late and you have school tomorrow. Early bedtime for children helps them grow.” James scowled and went to argue, but he realised this man would come up with a counter argument to everything he said. “Let’s walk you home, and as for you, James, I have an idea.”
James scowled even more. Clarence helped Kitiku to steady himself on his crutches before opening the door for them.
“Hishrak can take you down the stairs.”
The Alakazam used psychic and carried the injured boy down to the exit. James walked in front of Clarence, who was redoing his ponytail as they walked.
“Hey, Southern jerk?” James asked.
“That’s not my name. Please refer to me as Captain Bourbabel, or mister Bourbabel.”
“Southern jerk.” James nodded. “Can I go and play for a little bit? I mean you said it yourself, we have lots of energy. So… can I go and play?”
“Ask politely and you can.”
James crossed his arms and let his red hair flop over his face. “Why are you so mean to us?” he asked. “I just want to have fun. Your stupid rules are unfair.”
“Asking you to say please and not insult me is unfair?” The man smiled.
James huffed. He waited until they had walked along the cobbles to the crossroads and then he took a deep breath. James bolted left down the narrow street. However, Hishrak was having none of it. He raised his hand and pulled James into the air and back towards him, slowly.
“Let me go!” James squirmed and kicked. “I hate you, this isn’t fair.” James’s eyes met Hishrak’s. His red eyes volcanic compared to the calm blue of the Alakazam. “I want to go and do my own thing. Let me go!”
Hishrak tightened his focus. James couldn’t kick anymore. “Okay, okay, please let me go.” Hishrak carefully lowered the boy to the ground before relinquishing the psychic energy that had had him stranded midair.
“Hishrak is fast, and very powerful. He also dislikes bad manners and misbehaviour. He is modest, but can also act very cheekily if he wishes. Although, he never goes too far. Okta seems to be pretty bold, she is certainly good at endurance. You on the other hand… are adamant James…”
“What does adamant mean?”
“It means you have your mind set on something, and you certainly are quick tempered.” The Captain laughed a little.
“I am not!” James snapped back, which just made the man laugh a little more.
“You just proved my point.” James started to sulk. “Now, now. These are good qualities, when used correctly. Just like how a Pokémon has a nature and certain characteristics, we, the trainers, do too.” He reached over and touched Kitiku on the head. “Kitiku here is... docile,” Kitiku smiled a little, “… and is often lost in thought?” The quiet boy nodded. “See? Everyone has their natures and characteristics. Almost home.” James looked ahead to see the Bryson household.
“Can I now go and play, Southern jerk?” James asked.
Hishrak scowled. His long moustache curled with irritation of the repeated insistence that his trainer was a ‘jerk’.
“Manners.” Clarence started, as Tak came into sight from the opposite direction. He seemed annoyed to see them together. “Hello, mister Bryson. How has your day been?”
“What have these runts done now?” he spat.
“Nothing at all. We were just going for a walk.” Clarence smiled. “We were discussing Pokémon natures and characteristics. Important for anyone who wants to battle.” He placed a hand on James’ shoulder, which was met by an irritated grunt. “Someone is still a little energetic and probably hungry, since these boys haven’t eaten lunch.”
“Luxury of the rich.” Tak quickly said. “The poor eat twice a day at most. In the morning, and just before they sleep, Captain.”
“I am so sorry. Hopefully that will change soon.”
Tak shrugged at his words. “I will believe it when I see it, sir,” Tak said.
Clarence rubbed his chin curiously. “I will see what I can do. Also, Kitiku is tired, so I shall give him back to you. James and I aren’t quite done yet though. Tell me, mister Bryson, where is the nearest green?”
“Two streets down from here, on the left. It isn’t big but the children often play games on it so it should be big enough for whatever you need, sir.”
Clarence thanked him before walking with James towards the green.
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Post by starfiregaming on Sept 5, 2019 3:01:24 GMT
review for the book club; done for chapter 8 but refers to the fic at large as well
writing style:
honestly this writing style is kinda jerky tbh - rhythm feels off-kilter and wherever I look there's lines that could be shortened, paras that could be streamlined and short sections that could be restructured to keep para breaks from being awkward. it shouldn't be that big a deal tbh but it seems to be a recurring problem so - yeah there's a gradual trend of improvement but even w the most recent chapter its still kinda glaring.
I guess that aside there's not a lot that really makes this stand out, it's kinda bland all things considered. you do alright w building suspense and general scene-setting but even there the approach feels kinda...generic stock lines and techniques. might be something to look into.
I legit can't tell if this is third person limited variable pov (hemingway style) or third person omniscient and weirdly I don't think either fits. you'd probs want to just third person limited with a clearly demarcated character and use the narration a little better to make it clear who's thinking and how their view colours the events we see - I say this bc I think that in the more recent chapters at least the characters stand out stronger than the world or even the intercharacter reactions, and having the format reflect the focus is generally a good call
plot and chapter arc:
like a lot of other things abt the fic genre's hard to pin down - I'm guesstimating it's somewhere between war scifi and soft fantasy geared to the pokeverse. this is weirdly reminiscent of the first law tbh. worldbuilding is a strength though if only for weight of detail and how it's all been constructed.
I think it's legitimately surprising that a) the south has allowed a recently conquered territory the right to pokemon use and b) that they've given james a pass for repeatedly giving lip to southern officers, battling them and causing property damage and I think even whatever narrative law states that protagonists can't be held accountable for their actions only goes so far to explain it. although again that kinda ties into the other thing I noticed - james' lack of any sort of growth or development, and while some of it's understandable as grief and a certain amount of brainwashing I'm surprised that his experiences haven't inspired him to at least learn to pick his battles. but he's only gotten more reckless and belligerent until you'd think he has a death wish, which isn't the sort of thing that works in protags usually, at least not when they're not interested in facing it and are generally acting kinda unsympathetic. just my two cents ig
chars and char dynamics:
idk why dialogue feels a bit stilted / repetitive and it's weird bc I can tell that certain lines are supposed to be forceful / emotional except I don't feel the sting at all. disrupts my immersion a bunch tbh.
you have a good sense of what roles your characters are supposed to play though and the dialogue is if nothing else appropriate to the situation. there's definitely also some nod to social structure and how it affects how people act and react (even if there's a kinda glaring hole in james' immunity to the law) which is also...nice and reasonable. if nothing else the worldbuilding here is really strong and if it's not quite living and breathing it's definitely cohesive and vivid. which is a thing people miss out on sometimes.
other misc:
I guess there's also a bunch of bits that feel like tell rather than show - particularly in the flashbacks wrt backstory details like james' relationship with the family. my general experience is that if you have to spell this stuff out explicitly you're probably doing something wrong.
okay so there's an unnamed narrator...idk, I'd say that that's interesting but really said narrator pops up so infrequently and doesn't say a lot so yeah. feels like you could definitely make more use of it than you do, if only for variety's sake. cool idea though.
chapters feel really massive; imo the sweet spot for length is somewhere between 2.5-3.5k words (unless you're deliberately going minimalist) but you're like well well over that (7.5k words on average) which is def a bit taxing for the average reader (in terms of both time taken to read and maintaining their attention / interest.) bigger is not necessarily better lol
tldr not bad but stuff could be worked on.
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Post by vray on Sept 22, 2019 6:31:07 GMT
It's been a while since I've read the older chapters. Since your request was for 8, 8 I'm gonna do. Though in an attempt of being fair here since I know it's been a while since this was updated and whatnot I'd like to say that what I'm about to say on the "critical" stuff should be taken "for this time". If you've improved on the things I mention since then, or deteremined I'm a babbling idiot for going as so far as to make such an outrageous and horrible suggestion great. So without further ado: What is comma be: the review of chapter 8 so starting off gonna make a disclaimer and say all the goody twoshoes positive and all that ilk will be near the end so we can end on a nice, fulfilling climax. part freaking ONE!“Now, you may be wondering why I am not at work today. It is now illegal to work on a Wednesday, unless you are an active serving soldier, policeman, fire stopper, doctor, Lord, or have a permit. Generally money wise, things are looking bad. We were going to have to cut rations to the house to stay afloat. However, the new Captain has doubled the amount of food and supplies reaching the town since yesterday. Therefore we can get enough food to cope since prices and ration values have suddenly gone down,” Tak sighed. This first section gives me a bit of an "Tak is exposition for story, read all about it" vibe. It honestly seems his role in this part. While there is the latter part, it does come off as relaying info for the sake of relaying it rather than how they would talk. I mean, the way this goes is like he's doing a time chart of "Hey, this is here so we have this now, but it's okay because this." Like, why bother explaining all that stuff unless he's ranting which well...didn't really require the kids. Though, hot damn, is Kitiku getting potshotted left and right. Like, Tak, amigo, compadre, blood father of your fucking kid! Get a grip. Now this ain't a negative, but in fact a huuuuuuuuuuuuuge positive on my end since he's one of these things we call "morally grey characters" and all, which I enjoy, just a little disappointed his leading dialogue was a bit mediocre, but it did get better near the end. Though.... The red-haired boy got up from the table and walked out onto the street. Tak stood leaning against a wall opposite the house. He was smoking a cigarette. Do you have a nasty habit of involuntary "extra spacing" when you post your chapters? Ask your Psycho Raichu for the sake of a Tyr reference doctor about " EDITING". In all seriousness, while it may sound a bit harsh due to how things go with editing and how looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong it can drag, it helps to ensure the spacing and all things line up accordingly, yah know. I mean, it's like one of them distorted animations of shadow the hedgehog with like a pistol with a droopy gun tube as he T poses in a grey background. It just doesn't look good even if it works take notes Bethesda. Though if I can jump back on Tak's dick again, “You want to fight the inevitable. You think people who don’t immediately side with you are traitors. That is very rude and unfair. Do you not remember the mercy I showed you when your mother and step-father died at Marsten Hall?” Lemme make one thing clear. Absolutely love him at this moment, gem of all scruffy neckbearded gems, but this also has another good thing. Now, it might take a moment to think about it, but humans aren't the best at speech. Why I find the rapid "short sentences" in this section perfectly fine, but not because they're just short but that they'd make sense for his reaction. Accusatory and aggressive. He's active and engaging James with a bunch of rapid short "No U motherfucker" kind of stuff that would push back on the rebellious angst of James. It fits both characters, but sadly doesn't seem to work for any other character outside these two. Take the character's and tone into accordance when crafting your sentences, because while this is a good example of doing it well there are plenty were it isn't done as good. James rested his head against Tak’s chest. Tak placed his right hand on the boy’s head. James’s thoughts wandered into the past. "Hey Timmy, play that one about the kid teleporting to his foster dad's chest." "Sure thing Johnny. Want me to add some static teleportation for visual disturbance?" "Only if you add some fazing into the handsome man for an audience nauseous reaction." A sort of problem you have is having these characters be somewhere and well....just moving without indicating. Treat your story like you would treat an anime. Characters don't just teleport without you showing them moving or being in a motion to be moving there. Don't be a RWBY, be an FMAB. I'd advise for these things you try and plan out the scene, even if it's just an image in your head. See where they are and see the animations from that, and from that write out their movements. Gestures and mannerisms can say things for dialogue as well and can even hint at more going on. You have the tools, just try and expand to some others you don't use as often. With that one out of the way. NNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Part 2: the flashback boogaloo. “You look hungry.” James nodded quickly to Tak’s statement. “Would you like something to eat? You have been friends with my sons for years, even before Pierre was recruited to fight alongside his Lordship. I wonder what he is up to. I haven’t seen him since Marsten Hall.” Tak placed a bowl of mashed berries into James’s hands. Sadly, as powerful as Tak is at being blunt, even he cannot escape the "awkward mentioning of things that have no need to be in this scene but we must include for the audience's sake." Weak writing is when you have to spell out to your audience things rather than incorporating it into the narrative naturally. So for something like this, perhaps think about where this mentioning would be fitting, or hell don't have him mention it. Do it some other fashion or method. In a way that doesn't sound like you're mixing your blacks and whites with your colors. also, screw you english it's colors and I'll be damned if you disagree!!!!!“Lord Jackson did most of that. His Houndoom mega evolved and some of these soldiers were too close when it happened. They weren’t prepared for it and then were hit by dark pulse and then a heat wave. Those who got hit by the heat wave will be in pain permanently. A Houndoom flame burns for eternity on the skin of the victim.” Tak looked at the wounded. “Some of them are young. Some younger than you. I don’t understand why Lord Madison sent his youngest trainee Guards into battle first.” He shook his head. dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah Older sexy manly explanation dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah Despite adding nothing and sounding robotic DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Eyes, crying everymore! dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah at the waste of tak's dialogue! (I'll actually be impressed if anyone guesses what I'm text to singalonging to)although, “Sending someone to their death is not proving oneself.” You know, despite how he treats Kitiku and a lot of shit he is doing and is....you make it very hard to hate his guts. Unlikes other characters of yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!then again, “Particularly as Lord Jackson is leading this attack. He has been leading the attack since the South attacked Quigk, the capital.” Stop taking Tak on the exposition ride, please. But not much else to say save for doing a good job adding some background info, showing the characters more, introducing a bitchy character, aaaaaaaaaand having one of my top 5 characters make a voice call. But yeah, Tak was the star of the show, but I would advise what I said earlier and pick your sentence structures better so it isn't just rehasing the same short sentences every paragraph. I'd like to second Minty's suggestion in reading aloud what you write to see if it sounds human or at least rings with clarity and doesn't make you swoon. third times the homewrecker: Part 3 “Let’s see what they are up to.” The two men approached the group as quietly as possible before Clarence decided to scare the group. “Stealing more keys?” James jumped and reached for Okta in his defence. Lioa did the same for Ruskuo. It didn’t take the boys a moment to send out their Pokémon. “Sir, they are attacking us!” Sutton shouted in Elkrat. “No, I think they are wanting to battle us. We scared them. This is all self-defence,” Clarence corrected. “Hishrak, end this as quickly as you can.” His ball landed, released and bounced back into his hand. He noticed James’s ball roll in front of him. Lioa had chased after his ball and was now in the middle of the battlefield.
They roudy children attacked
You sent out Hishrak
Sutton sent out dead animal
James lost ability to throw and ball went further.
You returned James heart
Lioa spouted nosnese, his gurdurr attacks
Hishrak used psychic
you won.Yeah, I'm not a fan of how things were handled there, but this part I do enjoy the characterizing of Sutton and Clarence you did. Lioa can suck a dick though.Part F-f-f-ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuur: The Pokémon was screaming. It was in pain. Sutton was hurting it. ... Sutton was hurting it.Sutton was hurting it.Sutton was hurting it.Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.
Sutton was hurting it.Sutton was hurting it.I think that goes without saying. Though that horrible part aside, it once more set them well in character. So now for the really good stuff. This is a good spotlighting for Tak, James, and Clarence. All these three were done very well in this. The rest were okay, but these three got a good amount of dynamics going on. Next, your subtle adding to the worldbuilding (no not in dialogue), namely the Clavouro scene. While it would have been better if you didn't explain it, it was a nice attention to incorporate some little touches without having to sidetrack away from the plot. Another thing I really liked was how well you portrayed the nuances of Tak. I know I'm essentially bending over for him this chapter, but in all honesty, I think this is the chapter so far that has had him at his strongest. He's still a dick to Kitiku, but he isn't heartless nor is he evil. He's problematic and has pain that makes him do shitty things but there is clearly somebody there. A person. And I think that's a very strong approach with so many other characters in this that seem to fulfill a "role" as it was stated. Tak is honestly your most interesting to me since he has a lot of mystery, depth, hurt, flaws, bonuses, and honestly feels the most human. Have an "honestly" counter for anyone that reads this review"In a short, concise sentence to summerize. Your characters are strong but work on the dialogue and scene building so that you are able to convey the little additions without backpeddling into sideline quests of info dumping nor have to glitch your story to move a few characters to a corect spot. Hope this helps and hope yah reach for the stars, although they look pretty far! Hope this goes hi fly awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, and Lioa gets his cracked todaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! |
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