...Flying...
There's confusion
Coming from everywhere
No solution
Nothing helps to lay bare
...Memories...
My reason
Why I am even here
My creation
Without one seems unfair
...Darkness...
You're one of the lucky ones
Born just like everyone
Together on this wretched planet!
"Quiet! ...Let us hear its psychic powers...!"
I'm an unnatural one
I am the only one
All alone on this wretched planet!
...Water...
Your destiny's an easy one
To find, just ask anyone
To help you on this cursed planet!
"...This armor will not disable your powers, but focus them..."
I wish I could find someone
To ask, but there is no one
To help me on this cursed planet!
...Land...
But I'm so sick and tired of it!
"He may not have a nickname, but I've still got...Charizard. I choose you!"
Enough brooding and whining!
...Sky...
I'm on my own but I won't quit
"...And this time, we'll both remember..."
On my searching and finding
...Space...
'Cuz there's an answer out there
For me to hear with my own ears
To my questions
I know there's a confession
To how, what, where, when
And who and why did I begin
If I was meant for shackles or to be free
Someday soon, Fate and Destiny
...Mmmm?
..A
.a dream?
-)-D-0-O-0-C-(-
Nightsky City was a bustling ville in the daytime. Tall skyscrapers clogged the Unovan sun, various noises clogged the tidy air, slow traffic clogged the wide roads, and steady pedestrians clogged the old sidewalks. Among these streetwalkers was a young, fit, medium-height Kantoese man. He wore an unsmiling face beneath two large bangs, one bigger than the other. His purple, somewhat short hair was spiky, but obeyed the laws of gravity more than most with the majority of the spikes pointing down. A long, thick rat tail hung down from the back, bouncing along as he walked.
His eyes, the most distinguishing feature, were a piercing violet, and seemed as if they were perpetually slanted into a glare, although somewhat softened coming towards the nose. Around his neck he wore a brown cloak of a single cloth wrapped around it, with the back of it jaggedly torn short to fall down only to his black belt. The rest of his outfit consisted of black sneakers, worn baggyish blue jeans, and a stony grey t-shirt with "Cerulean City Spelunkers Club" on it in blue.
He trudged along the road, hands in pockets. He was bored, going home after getting some brunch at the sub joint down Joyce Street. He lived far away, near the old church with the nearly-abandoned tower.
The youth yawned, stretching. 'So little for to do...I still need waking up,' he thought, half-eyeing and all-out grimacing. He had no real job to go to; he instead got what money he required through minor thievery: At night, he went around and took little bits of money from many houses, enough to pay for food and, when needed, clothing. (He appreciated the low prices at the local Goodwill.) It was long and tedious work, but it was how he got by. He'dn't been caught yet, so he'dn't worry a bit. Now, an hour and a half after waking up at noon, he needed something interesting to happen, or else the poor guy would keel over of boredom.
"AAAHHHHH!"
He looked casually to the alleyway where he heard the scream. It sounded feminine and old. The guy smirked. 'That will do,' he thought, and casually entered the casual alleyway. He heard cries of "Back! Back!" and the sounds of something flailing out to beat someone—probably a purse. No grunts, and no footsteps; the attacker must have cornered her and was closing slowly in on her. The young man frowned annoyedly as he used his psychic abilities to see a stout, round-faced old woman kitted up in a dress that appeared to be quite skillfully made and a matching hat, all shades of red. Crowding her were three large men with, instead of pokéballs, clubs in their hands. The hysterical old woman was batting her little purse with all her might. The man thought, furrowing his brow. 'I wonder if they desire knocking her unconscious, then stripping her (*shudder*) and selling that outfit for a high price.'
He gauged their strength with his abilities, eyes wandering his surroundings as he soundlessly crept along the alleyway. They caught on a dirty wooden crate full of old junk from some shop or apartment. Two articles looked to be in good shape and were available for easy taking: A round, hollow metal towel bar with a bit bent and snapped off and, of all things, a broken cricket bat. A stick of the same length as those two items stood propped up against it.
Piece 0: ~Prologue~
The man shrugged, approaching it. 'Huh. Fair fight, weapon on weapon, and besides, I want to get better at swordfighting, anyway,' he reasoned, looking to see which seemed the most suited, finding they all looked to be able to withstand beating people. 'Hmmm...The bar would be more painful, I could do technical moves easier with that stick and the bat's width could let me block attacks easier,' he observed. After a second's decision, he decided to take the stick. 'I need no shield to defend and no sword to offend; I am confident in my abilities enough to go with this,' he reasoned, putting the stick into his belt. He advanced quickly now, since he had wasted enough time with the weapons.
Just in time, too; the men were almost upon the old woman. "My, what a nice dress you have," one of them commented darkly, grinning.
"AAAHHHHHHH!" she screamed again, cringing.
"HEY!"
The men turned around, glaring at the little punk in front of them. (The old woman peeked up from her cringe and raised her eyebrows.) They were a fair bit taller than him (although the kid was somewhat tall already) and were likely twice his weight in muscle. The one in the middle spoke. "Get outta here, or you're gonna regret it, and don't even think of callin' the cops on us," he threatened. "We got connections."
The man smirked, eyes now like triangles as his eyebrows narrowed them. "The latter," he said, voice deep and powerful despite his scrawniness, "I will agree to. The former, though—" He drew his stick with one hand and got into stance, improvised weapon hanging relaxed at his side. He had his right foot forward, and was standing sideways. His legs were, like a good fighter, bent. He sort of resembled a fencer. His smirk opened a bit. "I must apologize, but running is simply not my battle style."
The three guys blinked, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. "You...are the weirdest...little kid...A little stick? WHAA-HAHAHA!" The first guffawed, bending over and having to shut his eyes from laughing. When he managed to open them, he laughed as a skinny stick sailed past his dodged body. "You wanna play? Then come on!" He swung with his club.
The young man smiled. "Are you sure?" he asked, rolling under the swing. He stopped and jumped up, turning to his target. "Because I play—" THWWAACK! The man yiped at the kid's strength, the cane stinging his face and causing him to stagger back a bit. The kid landed. "—very rough!"
The other two growled. "You little—" said one, and the fight began. They charged in on him, but the man dodged and went into a combination of swings. His strength was great, despite his skinniness. He ducked, rolled, dived, and evaded attacks while he dealt out swings, thrusts, and strikes to the men. When he was surrounded, he jumped and kicked off one guy's chest, sending him back, and froghopped over another's, making sure to kick his back with both heels as he sailed over. And when one guy tried to attack him with a strong, two-handed blow, he leaped nimbly, higher than any normal human, and grabbed his foe's head. He swung onto the enemy's back, latched on with his legs, and started viciously waling away at the back of his neck. After a few, before he was thrown, he grabbed the shoulders, unhooked his legs, and then kicked himself off the enemy's back. It was astounding how he fought. And the amazing part was, he didn't use a real fighting style; he just used a self-taught set of moves, and improvized when needed! Yet these moves were efficient—calculated—while at the same time sort of showy and wide.
The woman, on the ground from shock from watching the fight, gaped as the three men, bearing bruises, fell back to one end of the alley. The youth was on the other. He pointed his stick at them. "Were I you, I would run," he said simply. '...Well, not really, but...'
The guys seethed. "GET 'IM!" the center one commanded, and the three shot towards him at once. The young man simply stood, waiting, pointing out to the side. Then, at the last moment, he whipped around in a lightning-fast spin, swinging his stick around to their fronts so fast he cut their shirts, and followed up with a reverse hooking kick, heel meeting cheek, kicking all three down. He spun back into stance and breathed. The guys grimaced and then scrambled to get their cowardly asses outta there.
"And stay out," he muttered, smirking while he sheathed his stick. He turned around and his face magically changed to become an honest look of concern. "Are you okay, m'am?" he asked gently, bending down a bit to the short woman.
She nodded, smiling broadly. "Thank you," she said in a classic old lady voice, "thank you so much. I don't have the slightest idea why those men would just out and attack a defenseless old lady like that without having any interest in money..." She furrowed her brow in confusion.
The man shook his head. "Oh, they were interested in money, all right," he said. Pointing to her hat, he explained, "Your outfit looks so ornate and expensive, they must have thought they could sell it on eBay or something. Is it high quality?" he asked, resting chin on hand, elbow on other hand.
The lady nodded and responded in a relieved tone, "That explains that comment...Yes, it's made of silk; I'm glad they didn't get to me. Thank you so much again, sir...er, your name, if I may?" she asked.
The man gave a mental shrug. "Sure. I am Maru," he said, inclining his head. "Not Shikamaru, or Ebisumaru, but just Maru."
The woman smiled sweetly, putting a hand on her chest. "Thank you, Mr. Maru, again, for saving an old woman like me. I don't want to ask why you did and will instead be grateful I'm still clothed. A naked old lady in the middle of the city..." She shuddered (as did Maru mentally, again). "How wrong and embarrassing!" She shook her head and looked up, smiling. "I absolutely have to give you a reward," she asserted firmly. She lowered her head to her purse while she rummaged, grey bunned hair visible under the wide brim of her hat.
Maru chuckled and held his hands up, giving a slight smile. "No, but thank you anyway, miss," he said. "You almost lost a great deal of money, and I do not—"
"Nonsense!" The woman withdrew what looked like a round, bright golden bauble of some sort. "I won't accept 'no' as an answer. You deserve this. It's only fair since you went out of your way to rescue me. And in such an entertaining manner!" She chuckled and shook her head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were some sort of Fighting-type in disguise. Or mayhaps you're just very good," she suggested. Maru, who had merely raised an eyebrow when she suggested he was a pokémon, swore he saw a faint glint in her eyes.
Maru, mouth slanted in an unsure kind of guilt, took the bauble. "No; I am only a man," he shook his head. He smiled again. "Thank you for the bauble. It is very beautiful. I will keep it safe." He nodded and turned, saying, "Farewell, and be careful," over his shoulder while he walked off.
The lady gave a giggle. "I will, and thank you again!" she shouted back. "Oh, and don't spend it all in one place!" she added.
Maru raised an eyebrow at this. 'I doubt I will be pawning this interesting sphere any time soon, and I thought telling her I would keep it safe would suggest that to her,' he mused. 'I suppose there may have been some social skill I missed there...again...' He shrugged and looked again at his reward. '...Though...No, this seems just a little too big to possibly be used as currency...' He shrugged again, put it in his cloak, and walked off. He noticed he still had his stick with him when he got home, and decided he may as well keep it.
***RECEIVED Bauble***
A golden sphere given by the old lady in red that Maru saved. How—and why—would you spend it?
***OBTAINED Stick***
A strong, light stick that's good for channeling energy and using fancy moves with.
Nightsky City was a bustling city in the nighttime. Tired pedestrians filled the sidewalks, packed cars filled the roads, conversational buzz filled the air, and glowing skyscrapers filled the Unovan sky. The largish pokémon balanced on the spire of an old church, surveying the city with amazing violet eyes. His full cloak fluttered behind him in the cool night wind. After a time, he crouched and shot off through the night to wander.
#150: Mewtwo (MYUU-too). The Genetic Pokémon. Type: Psychic. Ability: Pressure (Doubles enemy PP usage). Length: 6' 7". Weight: 269 lbs. Color: Purple. Created by scientists as a weapon of war, this powerful Pokémon is also known as "The Moonlight Wanderer."
Mewtwo flew, going wherever he wanted. He decided to have a little fun—who was he kidding, he had a blast whenever he flew—and impress the locals. Every night, the people of Nightsky City kept an eye on the sky for him. He's easy to spot, what with his trademark blue trail and flapping brown cloak. But he went fast, so all people saw of him when he wasn't standing was a light show. But they loved it. They also loved how, once in a while, a thinner pink streak accompanied his, though these days, it was only his trail they saw.
He looked at the city around him, and mapped out his line in only a few seconds. He streaked off. First, he flew straight, then, like a roller coaster already shooting along the track, dived instantly at an 85-degree angle towards the ground. At the last second before hitting the people below (scaring the shit out of them), he pulled up (using his abilities to counteract the physical forces that would have otherwise destroyed his body) and flew at a 45-degree angle from the ground, straight towards a pole sticking out the wall of a building, used for banners. It was bare now, so he grabbed it right as he passed it and, like a hyperspeed gymnast, flipped around it a couple times before slingshotting himself away, backflipping a couple times. Next, he turned in to some densely-packed buildings, dodging them as he flew along. He ducked under arches, soared over rooftops, and at the top of one building, he grabbed a thick antennae and spun around that before he slingshotted off again. And in his mind, the whole time, he was crying out in joy, 'THANK YOU GOD I CAN FLY!'
He then went over the square of the city and did a few aerial stunts, turning loops and figures in the sky. The psychic residue trail left by his high psychic activity when flying so fast traced his path, and people down below looked up, pointing, some making ooh's and ahh's, like at a fireworks show. After a time, Mewtwo decided to go on a ride and went for the grand finale. He got into a tight loop, then, turning, another, and another, faster and faster, and so tight that he felt his blood rush all over his body from the centrifugal force generated by his flight, which traced out something like one of those orbiting pictures of atoms and the electrons around them. As he did so, he waited until he definitely heard sounds of admiration below, then shot out a loop towards a tall building looming over the square, his trail flaring a bit directly behind him.
He had to shake his head a bit to stop the dizziness, and he did so in time to pull to the side and up a bit of the building, lest he crash into it. He spiraled up the building, going to the top to the huge flagpole, which flew no colors at night. He at first spun around it so tight, it was as if he was shooting up it while holding it. Then he really did, and it was a large difference. He protected his paw against the friction as he spun to the top, at which he hiked his feet up and did an astounding upside-down multi axle, using the force of his speed to go into his spin and not into the upwards direction or anything off-course (though he still had to tweak himself somewhat via telekinesis), the trail ending in a burst as the speed went into spinning. He rose up at least 15 feet, still inverted, the city lights below illuminating his body and the cloak wrapped around him. Finally, coming down, at the last second, he flipped down, TK'ed the cloak off him quickly, and slammed his foot onto the round ball at the top of the pole. He spun around and around in a crouch, decelerating as he slowly stood, and then slammed his other foot down next to the first as the ride finally came to complete stop.
He stood and breathed, arms down and paws in fists, chest rising and falling as he panted from the rush. Below, he heard the crowd cheer. He looked down and smiled at them all, knowing none could see his face. Always modest, though, he turned and shot off into the night sky, slower so that he had no trail, but fast enough that he wasn't easily seen.
He panted and actually laughed a little as he sort of lounged, lying on his back mid-flight like how some people lie on their back on an inflatable mattress at a pool. 'That was more fun than I thought it would be!' he thought, smiling. 'Smiling...wow...' Mewtwo sighed. 'I never thought that I would find myself doing this for entertainment that does not involve fighting...wow...' He looked up at the sky, idly grabbing a roof's edge to sit down. He looked at the moon. '...How calm and humble I have become, living under the light of the moon,' he mused. 'I now do not look at humans so menacingly, use only psychic attacks—' (he now practiced physical attacks, and in fact recently began perfecting a self-taught style of swordplay) '—or erupt when I am faced with incompetence and such. I am a much more different Pokémon than I was when I awoke in that tube...'
Mewtwo looked at a three-fingered paw. 'I still do not wish to have any companions that I know personally, though, to see every day,' he admitted. 'I still desire to be alone. For that is what I am...' He gazed at El Luna again. 'Alone.' His calm face knitted its eyebrows and sloped its mouth down a smidge. 'I still have not discovered my purpose yet. It annoys me to no end. I am Mewtwo, the world's strongest Pokémon, and yet I know not WHY I am! Other pokémon were made to live in nature, or to be trained to do battle for their Trainers—their friends. But me...' His gaze drifted a bit. 'Was I...Was I truly destined to fight for someone so...?' The pokémon growled and shook his head vigorously. 'No, I have said it so many times! That cannot be my destiny!'
'Then what is it?' he asked, almost talking to himself.
'I do not know yet,' he answered begrudgingly, looking away, down at the roof. 'Maybe to wander the skies of this city forever. I am content enough to do that.'
'But do I not feel restless? Feel...empty, somehow?'
'...Perhaps...just a little...'
'"Perhaps?" Who am I kidding? I do. I feel empty.'
'Yes. That place in my heart, where my purpose would fill it.' He put his right paw over his chestplate. 'A heart...Why do I even HAVE one? I was not born!'
'But, then, why did I let myself fall into that trap Giovanni set out for me, at Purity Canyon?'
'...I cared for my clones...but I made them, so I did not wish to see them hurt, my hard work ruined...'
'...Okay, so I can care. But...why? If my purpose was merely to fight, why allow me to CARE? Why give me the CAPACITY?'
He banged his right fist on the roof. ''Dammit!'' he said aloud in perfect Human. 'What is it that I am meant to do? A heart is a hindrance for one whose sole purpose is to do battle, and that appears to be the only thing I am good for! I cannot entertain with my psychic abilities for my life, nor would I want to, and my mind can only focus on battle, nothing else. That and flying a complicated course like I did. Flying? Is THAT my purpose? No! So stupid and useless! I love to fly, it is my only way to make myself feel good without having to kick someone's ass or blow something to smithereens, but that cannot be all I am meant to do!' ' 'AAARRGGHH!' ' He shot off, holding his head while his face mirrored his torture within.
This happened a lot to the poor poké. Mewtwo would fly around, marvel at how he's changed since his "birth," and then go into what his purpose might be, eventually driving himself nuts and causing him to fly around aimlessly for an hour or so while he cooled down.
Tonight, though, was different. He was halfway through his cooldown when he heard a cry of pain below. He stopped, crouched over the edge of a building he landed on, and saw a young boy with wild black hair being beat up by some bigger kids...and their pokémon. 'They are attacking him!' Mewtwo thought with alarm and disgust. Oh, he HAD to do something about this. An anger that he only recently had begun to find within him welled up at the sight of this. He growled and set to work.
One of the four bigger kids laughed. "C'mon, Kotetsu, we know you're a coward, so why don't you just let us toughen you up?" he asked. "Patrat, Tackle again!"
Kotetsu yelped again as the little rodent slammed into his crossed arms again. "Did you guys get toughened up by beating up on each other with your pokémon like this?" he asked incredulously, glaring with fear and hatred at these bullies from his school.
Another kid laughed. "We sure did, scardy-Delcatty!" he said. "And these don't hurt! They're just...Tackles, you know?" His little jigglypuff (search me) slammed into Kotetsu.
Kotetsu, by the way, was a young boy with dark blue eyes and huge, black, spiky hair that flowed back more than around. He dressed all in black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, and currently bore some cuts and bruises on him. The jigglypuff was hard to evade or block, since it kept bouncing. It got him under his guard and knocked the wind out of him. "S-stooop..." he whined, getting up slowly. "Please...This hurts..."
A third kid smirked. "What if we say no? Or, better yet, Tackle?" he asked/commanded.
Somehow, Kotetsu managed to dodge the zigzagoon, ducking completely. "I'll...I'll..." He couldn't do ANYTHING. He couldn't bring himself to fight the pokémon—they're so small and weak, he knew that! He'd feel HORRIBLE! But...with all the pain he was getting...something inside him wanted to hurt them back, Tackle with the force of a steam engine.
The fourth kid snapped his fingers. He was bigger than the others, and obviously the leader. The three others recalled their pokémon into their balls and cleared the way. The forth held his ball up. He hadn't gotten his pokémon out yet. "I think that's enough punishment for tonight for being a weak, cowardly, dumbass brat who doesn't know that saying all the answers in every single class just really isn't the smart thing to do around here," he said. "Wanna rest on something nice and soft and warm?" he asked.
Kotetsu was looking down, panting, but at this, he froze. He was a clever kid when it came to these kinds of riddles. He knew exactly what the bully meant. The sound of the pokéball opening up and its inhabitant materializing came as he slowly raised his head. Two cream-colored, three-clawed feet underneath a deep olive body and cream belly. He looked up into the face of the overweight behemoth almost squeezing against the sides of the back alley.
"Snorlax!" it growled. It looked so passivly at Kotetsu, the boy gulped. (The snorlax, of course, didn't give a damn about anything at the moment, and was in fact groggy; hell, those things are ALWAYS groggy, with as much as they sleep.) To make matters worse, the bear-like creature's stomach growled.
The bully, unseen behind the fatso, grinned. "Laxative!" he shouted. "Body Slam!"
'~I hate that name,~' Laxative thought, sweatdropping, but did as he was told. Hey, it smelled like there was a few good leftovers in the garbage bags behind the kid, maybe he could get some out...
Kotetsu gazed, frozen on the spot, at the huge load bearing down on him, and screamed. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He turned his face down and covered it at the last moment, bracing for the pain and hoping for unconsciousness to escape it.
It never came.
After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and gasped. A huge pokémon, wearing a brown cloak that covered it down past its feet, stood, holding one strange, ball-tipped-fingered hand out to keep Laxative at bay. With ease. Kotetsu blinked. "What the..."
' 'How dare you set your pokémon upon another human being, you disgusting excuses for people!' ' a deep, commanding, and very angry voice boomed inside everyone's heads.
Everyone gasped and looked around, Laxative being the only one who actually knew what was going on. He blinked unbelievingly at the sight of this powerful pokémon holding him. "Lax-snorlax? Lax-snor-snoor, snorlax," he muttered panickedly, guessing at what was about to happen. "~Are you gonna hurt me? I didn't want to hurt the kid, honest.~"
' 'And I believe you,' ' Mewtwo replied more calmly only to the obese one. ' 'I will not harm you too much, but prepare to land on an uncomfortable bed...' '
"~Won't be the first time...~"
The bullies yelped when Laxative was sent right on top of them, landing on all four. Kotetsu laughed and shouted, "YEAH!" After a few seconds, Laxative returned (gratefully) to his ball, with four bullies, gasping and painfully getting up, glaring at Kotetsu...then looking up from the feet to the face of Mewtwo, fear and amazement growing on their faces as they did. "What the hell are YOU?" Laxative's trainer asked in a small voice.
Mewtwo glared and telekinetically picked the four up by the lapels, causing them to shout and make noise. He charged an energy ball in his other paw. ' 'Someone who would have killed you for what you have done were this mere months previous, that is WHO!' ' he shouted, and blew them away. The four boys screamed as they blasted off a la Team Rocket.
Kotetsu gazed in wonder at this pokémon, gaping. "...A...A...Are...Are you...?" he stuttered.
Mewtwo turned and crouched down slightly. ' 'Are YOU alright, should be what is asked,' ' he said, much more gentle than the furious, frightening form before. He didn't smile, but looked calm and relatively harmless, which is saying something with intimidating features like his.
Kotetsu gaped, getting the fact that this thing was talking, then nodded. "Th-thanks," he said.
Mewtwo nodded. ' 'My pleasure.' ' He glared over his shoulder where the boys were. ' 'I despise people like them. If they trouble you again, shout for help, and I swear I shall come. The sight of me should send them crying for their mothers.' ' He stood fully and turned.
"Wait!" Kotetsu called, holding a hand out. Mewtwo stopped, but didn't look back. Kotetsu lowered his hand a little. "What pokémon are you?" he asked.
Mewtwo paused. ' '...The strongest,' ' he decided, and shot off.
Kotetsu watched him go. "The strongest..." he repeated. Then, to his surprise, he found himself saying, "I wish that I was you...powerful enough to scare anyone...who scared me..."
~~~Kingdom Hearts Puzzle of Truth~~~
Piece 1: Nightsky City
Mewtwo trained daily. Or nightly, more like. He goes to an area of the city, an old plaza with only two entrances, that is usually uninhabited. If it is, it's just hobos, and he scares the more drunk or stoned ones off (having great fun with the stoners beforehand). But he practices a fair bit nowadays with a sword using Psycho Cut. What got the world's most powerful pokémon to enjoy swordfighting so much?
Well, he was human once when he decided to—what the heck!—go see a circus. While there, he saw an amazing display of swordsmanship in many different styles. He had, believe it or not, never seen anyone swing anything even remotely sword-like except on what television he let himself see. (He would much rather read; the library was practically a second home for him—in fact, he ended up going there after saving the old woman in red.) Thinking that it would be an interesting skill to learn, he decided he would do just that, and so began practicing against psychically-generated foe-like targets using Psycho Cut. The sword was in the strain of the lightsabers used in Tenchi Muyo!, but more blade-like than Star Wars lightsaber-like. He held it in one paw, and, while he had to get used to being unable to fly (to be fair to most opponents), he began to become better on the ground exclusively.
Anyway, tonight, the night after he saved Kotetsu and that weird lady, he was practicing again. I will not spoil exactly what he does yet, but he does some pretty cool moves. Lately, he has been combining his psychic abilities, mainly telekinesis, to sort of play around with his sword by throwing it and bringing it back again. Sort of like a psychic yo-yo, if you will. He has even practiced a night or two with two swords, which, given his ambidexterity (well, he IS supposed to be the greatest fighter, and what if one paw was disabled?), worked quite well. Anywho, he was practicing at the moment.
Mewtwo rolled underneath a target as it charged at him, then leapt right after it upon getting to his feet. He slashed at it in mid-air, the force of his swing sweeping him into the air a little. (Truth be told, he actually helped a tiny bit when doing his aerial combos by boosting up with telekinesis a smidge.) After his chasing slash, which caused him to barrel roll, he rocked into his three-hit aerial combination attack.
First, a vertical diagonal-down slash, turning him right, then, switching paws, a horizontal going in the opposite direction of his spin (left) that stopped his spinning by canceling out the forces, then, right paw again, a finishing right-going horizontal that spun him around a bit quicker. As he landed, his psychic opponent burst into bits of colored light, which meant he'd beaten it. Another came behind him and he blocked with a barrier. Spinning around, he attacked his opponent.
' 'These targets are too simple for my skills,' ' he complained aloud, wishing he could have the creativity to create targets that behaved differently. ' 'If I only had REAL enemies to fight, new ones, ones whose attack styles I did not know, I would be an extremely happy pokémon.' ' The enemy burst apart before his blade.
An orange-haired hobo, lying passively on a bench and watching fearlessly, as he did some nights, chuckled and shrugged, shaking his head. "Can't help ya there, dude," he said in a mellow voice. "I haven't had pokémon for years. Otherwise I'd totally battle you."
Mewtwo smirked with a sideways glance to him. ' 'Then why not yourself, Ren?' ' he suggested in a darkly playful voice.
Ren sweatdropped and shook his hands, laughing nervously. "N-No, thanks, dude," he declined. "I know I'm one tough cookie for someone who lives on soup kitchens, but not...that..." His words slowed to a near halt as he looked down one of the two roads connecting to the disused circular plaza, arms flopping down. "...tough..."
Mewtwo dismissed his targets and looked where Ren's gaze was. A silhouette was walking down the abandoned street. Mewtwo narrowed his eyes with suspicion in an instant. 'What? They are well within my normal cautionary range, and I am reasonably alert at the moment,' he observed, puzzled, 'yet I did not sense them!' He focused on sensing the being specifically, and got into stance again. 'I cannot sense them at all! And they must see me already, so no use fleeing.'
Ren noticed his reactions and made a little frown. "Dude? You okay?" he asked.
' 'Ren, things might get a bit interesting here...You should probably leave,' ' Mewtwo sent, frowning as the being approached. Projecting his telepathy like a voice, he demanded, ' 'Who are you and what do you want?' '
The figure came forwards into the waxing gibbous light filling the area in that dark, abandoned part of the city. Mewtwo's suspicion heightened as he saw the being—and the mask it wore. It was large and looked like the head of a tentacruel, with black instead of blue and a malevolently dark purple instead of red. As well, the dome-like parts were dulled and did not reflect the light nearly as much as a tentacruel's shiny spots. The two wicked claws (black) came down from the round lower part of the mask (which was missing the eyes of the pokémon) and stopped partway down the chest. From the mask came a body-encompassing mantle of thick, black cloth that hung down to an inch off the ground in sewn-together semi-irregularly-cut pieces, forming a neat hem at the bottom. There were no visible clasps. The shoulders were large, smooth, shield-shaped pauldrons of what appeared to be metal with a non-reflective black coating. There were two flaps on either side that acted to cover the armholes. The figure stopped a few steps into the encircling road. It most have worn sneakers or no shoes at all, since its steps were very soft. It stood, looking at Mewtwo.
Mewtwo bared his teeth and shouted again, ' 'Who are you and what do you want?' '
The figure chuckled deeply. Masculine. Then, shortly, in a nearly monotone, yet tinted with maniacal glee, voice, "Nobody."
Suddenly, in an almost dreamlike fashion, copies of the figure came from either side of its body and folded out from it, quickly sliding around the perimeter, mantles unaffected by the movement. Mewtwo and Ren, who was still sitting on his bench, looked around in surprise.
"You," the figure added a moment before the copies quit moving. As soon as all fourteen copies were in place, a purple ring of light whooshed up around them, leaving behind a brief trail of hexagons that faded out into nothing. Mewtwo grunted in slight alarm. 'I...do not like the feel of those walls...'
"'Ey! Down in front!" Ren protested to a copy in front of him, frowning and leaning to a side to look.
Mewtwo looked at Ren. ' 'Ren, get out of here, now!' ' he ordered him.
Ren nodded, getting up. "I know when it's about to hit the fan, dude, trust me!" he said over his shoulder as he skittered past a cloaked copy—and slammed right into an invisible wall. A field of purple hexagons spread from the point of impact. After getting up from the ground, Ren knocked the wall. More, smaller hexagons. "Uh-oh," he muttered, and he bit his lip.
Mewtwo scowled at this. 'A barrier,' he realized. 'Knew it.' He looked at the figure. ' 'Let Ren out—your quarrel is with me,' ' he commanded firmly, cutting his other paw across the air.
Another chuckle...but this time, it was a long, higher, menacing chuckle, not a simple amused chortle. "What, and lose the freebie?" he asked. He then quickly drew an arm with a submachine gun on it, the copies doing so as well. The arm was covered in a shallow, black kimono-style sleeve and the hand a black glove. Mewtwo noticed the copies were arrayed so that shooting straight across would result in nobody getting hit...except Ren, who was quickly getting back to his bench and behind one of the copies.
' 'Shit,' ' Mewtwo grimaced before teleporting out of the way of the bullets and into the air shortly above. 'I have to get rid of these things before—' he began thinking, flying up higher and escaping the bullets, putting up a Barrier around him and Ren below, but then he stopped, a crazy idea popping up in his head. He smirked and looked at the Psycho Cut still in his paw. 'Wait. I think I just got what I wished for...I shall deal with them using my blade.' He dropped down again to hover a couple inches off the ground. 'No high flight unless it starts to look hairy.' He reeled back his blade arm and tossed it at a figure. ' 'You asked for it!' ' he warned as he began to control the spinning sword with telekinesis.
The blade struck the figure and pushed it back, interrupting it. Mewtwo wasted no time in bringing the blade around at the others, cutting apart their guns. ' 'And no guns, you coward!' ' he added as he caught his sword again, lowering his Barrier. 'I know this is cheating a little, but I cannot just hold it outside my Barrier and slash without feeling like I was cheating even worse...' He dash-flew forwards to the first figure. '...not to mention stupid...'
His blade met a metal sphere with spikes on it, floating in midair. He grunted in surprise before twisting and ducking a flying spike ball that was aimed at his head. ' 'What the—?' ' He scowled upside-down up at the figure. ' 'What are you?' ' he asked, spinning and giving a lefty slash at it.
It grunted and flinched as Mewtwo gave a quick three-slash combo that ended knocking him back. It then faded out—not the right one. "Can you not decipher it?" mocked the voice of the figure from his right. Mewtwo, ignoring the taunt, turned as soon as his foe had faded away so he could deflect a few spike balls with a quick Barrier, then flew around, charging into the fiends with strong, dashing diagonal up-right slashes. The other figures, after their guns had been destroyed, had decided to stay and manipulate a spiked ball each.
Mewtwo found that a good, strong slash could defeat the imposters in an instant. So, he simply dashed to each one in turn and gave his dashing slash. (He decided to use a strong slash instead of his sword-twirling dash attack to ensure they go down quickly.) 'This is too easy, but I must be pragmatic—this is no training scenario,' he told himself as he went.
He had to contend with occasional spike ball attacks, though his dash usually let him get past attacks without damage, and he could deflect them with a simple raise of his Barrier. Ren was shouting something at him as he went, and he felt a few impacts on the Barrier around the man when he dashed past, but he did not hear him and dismissed the impacts as stray spike balls. Within a minute, he had taken care of all the imposters. Which was all of them. Mewtwo suspected this might happen and turned with a backwards half-Barrier as soon as he had struck the final clone, looking up.
He tried to dodge, but the dark blast was already coming at him when he'd reached the final foe. "AAUUGHH!" he cried, cursing himself slightly that he could not sense THAT, either. 'Night Shade!' he grumbled as he fell to the ground. 'And a strong one, too...' He flipped up and regained his air-footing back to his hover and looked up. Nobody but the moon. This time, he dodged instinctively and turned. To his surprise, a completely black creature floated before his eyes. It was in the shape of a Mismagius, but entirely black. Its eyes were frightening circles of a white that, in the form it was applied to at the moment, seemed unholy...or at least not good. It made no sounds a Mismagius would, growling faintly with a gurgle. It moved lighting-fast, trying to escape to another point to strike with Night Shade, but Mewtwo followed it with his eyes easily.
"Did you not notice blasts falling behind you?" mocked the figure's voice, getting crueler with each line.
"THAT'S WHAT I WAS TRYING TO TELL YOU, DUDE!" Ren called to Mewtwo.
Mewtwo scowled and went for—another hit, this time a Faint Attack from the side as he flew up to face Mismagius. He grunted, caught off-guard in the attack, and couldn't avoid the next Night Shade. He turned to see an Absol on top of a building, also completely back with white, demented eyes. ' 'I have sensed Dark and Ghost types before!' ' Mewtwo complained aloud. ' 'Why can I not you and these...monsters?' '
He sensed a change in the air pressure and rolled to the side to avoid a volley of three spike balls shooting from below. He struck them away as they tried to chase him, unnervingly reminding him of how his own Monster Balls had determinedly chased their prey back on New Island. Below, the figure had reappeared, raising both arms up. It might have been another fake. 'They must all be projections of a sort—that must be why I cannot sense them and they disappear so,' Mewtwo reasoned in the back of his mind.
He now had to deal with floating spiked balls, Night Shade, and Faint Attack (which was hard enough to avoid as-is). Mewtwo flew off right as he was about to be double-teamed by spike balls and Night Shade and turned to fly backwards, trying to get into a good position where he could see all three assailants. The attacks came quickly and relentlessly, however, and he found himself spending more time blocking, dodging, and righting than maneuvering.
"Dude! Just teleport up high!" Ren shouted up at him.
Mewtwo glanced up. He sensed the cylindrical wall had a ceiling about 40 feet from the ground, but he had also noticed his enemies were not able to pass the barrier, either. ' 'I grow weary of this charade,' ' he agreed before blipping out.
A nanosecond later, he blipped back in, grunting in pain and flying towards the ground as if struck (which he had not been, for once). Surprise caused him to linger a little longer before flipping again, and he ended up almost at the ground again, nearby Ren.
"Dude! What happened?" the hobo asked, eyebrows raised and eyes wide in great surprise. "You malfunction or somethin'?"
' 'No, I...' ' Mewtwo began before raising a full Barrier to stop the strong attacks. ' 'The barrier around this area is able to repel my teleportation,' ' he sent to Ren. As the realization dawned on him, his pupils slowly shrank and he barely noticed the attacks hitting his own Barrier. ' 'There is...' '
"No escape." The figure's voice was nearly monotonous again as it summarized the situation. "Sides, top, bottom. No escape."
Mewtwo knew it was right. '...no...escape...' he thought. In the tiniest corner of his chest, to his absolute horror, he felt something he had never felt before...
Fear.
Fear that this time, if he were caught, there would be no escape. He could do nothing. No psychically kicking ass and escaping, shedding off armor as he flew. No annoyingly selfless kid with an official Pokémon League hat to bust restraints and chuck him at least 10 feet away into the center of a healing spring. He had to quit holding back, he realized, and fight these things off. He narrowed his eyes and looked up, eyes glowing faintly. More of those copies had appeared and were hammering his Barrier with spiked balls while the pokémon-shaped creatures hit him with Night Shade and Shadow Ball. ' 'Playtime has ended,' ' he declared darkly.
His Barrier brightened as he pushed it into impenetrable mode—it would take a pair of level 100 machamp to Brick Break their way through. He flew up into the center of the cylinder. Once there, he calmly grabbed all ten copies' heads, thrust them apart wide, then thrust them together into a circle. A sickening CRRACK! was heard as their skulls and masks collided, as was Ren's laughter. But as Mewtwo tried to grab the two enemy pokémon-like things, both the laughter in his heart and in Ren's throat died. Mewtwo could not grab them!
"THEY'RE STILL THERE, DUDE! ...What the...?"
Mewtwo glanced down. The copies were struggling up...and they changed. From black-cloaked beings, they turned suddenly into strange, insubstantial silvery-white ghost-like things. And they all looked like their eraser-shaped head was open...unzipped.
Ren was paralyzed with fear, and Mewtwo was with shock and confusion. He growled and clenched both fists, clenching everything on his face. ' 'What...the hell...is going on?' ' he roared, opening his eyes to reveal blue-glowing triangles. He released a blast of energy and slammed it all into everything around. They all reeled back, all loose debris slamming up to the walls of buildings or into the mysterious hexagonal wall for that which went down the alleyways. But the white things disappeared in silvery-white clouds. The pokémon-things' fates were unknown, as the light was too bright to see them. Mewtwo finished, looking around. Nothing. And then, he heard a soft clapping behind him.
"Well done, Mewtwo. You will certainly do quite nicely."
' 'Y—' ' Mewtwo began, spinning to face who he heard must have been the real figure. He met a blast of a kind of energy he had never before encountered. Where it came from, he could not see—he assumed the mysterious figure. All he could see was the white energy cord that enveloped him. "' 'AAUUUGGHHH!' '" he cried, psychically and physically. This pain was worse than when he was paralyzed by Giovanni.
Ren yelped below. "DUUUUDE!" he cried. "LOOK OUT!"
Mewtwo unsqueezed an eye to look down, and saw, to his further panic, one of the figures floating six spiked balls...that became Rocket Balls. And they were being aimed at him, this time around, instead of tauros or other rare pokémon.
'No...' The balls came closer. That energy was disabling all but telepathy.
'No...' Memories of when he was Giovanni's unwitting slave came back.
'NO...' ' Capturing those trainers' pokémon, realizing he was no better...
' 'NO! I WILL NOT BE CAPTURED! RRRRRAAAHHH!' ' he roared. But try as he might, he knew he was screwed. He used all the power he could. It was thankfully working, but not enough. He had to focus his entire being on freeing himself.
The balls struck, almost causing Mewtwo to have a heart attack from the emotions he was feeling at the time...but instead of capturing him, he felt something far more valuable enter those balls. As his body glowed dark orange, not red this time, from six balls capturing, he could feel, instead of his body, his powers being drained away! His skills. Strength, both mental and physical. His knowledge of moves. And even his memories.
"!"
'No! What is happening to me? My memories, powers, everything! They're stealing them! Stealing them away from me! Where? Who? How? WWHHYY?'
As these thoughts raced through his brain, he could have sworn—though his vision was blurring and his memories flashed past his eyes as they became sucked into the balls floating and capturing—that he saw a perfect, cartoon conception: A beautiful, pink, glowing, and let's not forget as big as his head, heart rise from within his chest. As it slowly came out, he felt colder. 'A...heart?...Why...'
The stars went out.
'...y...'
The moon disappeared.
'...I...'
The energies dimmed away.
'...Ai...'
Suddenly, he felt his body explode. The glowing of the balls stopped abruptly. The heart (which had been almost entirely out of his chest at that point), the balls, the figure below, all became lost in the white light that burst from his body. Someplace, he heard a person he knew cry something beginning with 'd.' Someplace, he heard a strange voice curse. But one place he knew where, he heard a familiar, yet new voice...that of a young girl's...
' 'You...remember me?...' '
His body felt odd. His chest felt warmer. And all went white.
-)-D-0-O-0-C-(-
"...de? Dude? Hey, dude? You awake? You okay? Dude?"
"Uuhhnnnn..." Mewtwo groaned and opened his eyes slowly. He saw someone over him, blurry at first. He blinked a few times, and then rubbed his eyes. Finally, Ren came into view, hunched over his body and looking a bit worried. The sky was back to normal, and as far as he coud tell, the figure was gone. Ren's face, usually mellow and easygoing, but always covered with a thick red-head beard and adorned with bagged, dark blue eyes, was now worried and amazed at the same time.
"Hey, dude, you okay?" Ren asked, now backing off a bit to sit down on his feet as Mewtwo got up. "You fell a long way...You sure you don't got brain damage or something now?"
Mewtwo groaned and shook his head, closing his eyes. ' 'No, but I hope not,' ' he said.
Ren cocked an eyebrow. "Huh? Did you say something? I thought I heard something, but it was, like...I think I imagined hearing something..." he mumbled.
Mewtwo opened his eyes, eyebrows bringing together worriedly. He looked at the hobo. ' 'I said, 'No, but I hope not,'' ' he tried again.
Ren blinked. "Dude..." he said after a bit. "Could you speak up? I can't barely hear you."
Mewtwo gasped. He remembered, all in a flash, the scene previous. He looked at his body and froze. 'Since...since when did I...use Transform...?' He was in his human form, complete with the outfit that he always transformed into. He, thankfully, still had his cloak, albeit in its cut-down version, and assumed he had his items, if the stick ilying next to him meant anything. He patted his body with his five-fingered hands. "What the hell?" he exclaimed. "I did not use Transform, did I?" he asked, turning to look at the homeless man.
Ren shrugged. "I guess you did," he said slowly. "I dunno. I saw a bright light, then you falling like a rock. I caught you, but my arms were just a bed on the ground. I had to dive for you, and it didn't really do jack diddly-squat." He looked down. "Sorry..."
Mewtwo groaned and felt his head. Great, a goose-egg. That would explain the intense pain he felt there. "That is okay, Ren; I am at least alive," he assured. 'I do not know about 'fine' or not, though...' He got up. "I think I shall retire the night," he muttered. He took his weapon and then tried Transform.
Here, he froze stock still.
Ren came over after ten seconds of the dude not moving. "Dude? What's up?" he asked. "You're gonna get big and purple again, right, so...What's the holdup?" He raised a hand, then let it fall as he saw his acquaintance's expression.
Mewtwo's eyes were as wide and unblinking as a venomoth's, and his jaw was partly open. After a few seconds, he croaked, "...I...I...for..got...Transform..." He slowly turned to face the human. Ren stepped back, greatly startled. He had never seen an expression of pure horror and fear on the pokémon's face, human or otherwise. "...along with...every...thing..."
An awkward, age-spanning twelve seconds of silence enveloped them. Finally, Ren spoke. "That's funny," he said, not laughing. "Good one, dude. You? Losing your powers?" He tried laughing halfheartedly, but it didn't really come out much more than a "heh." Ren had seen Mewtwo, without ever learning his name, in his training for a while now. He knew the pokémon's power.
Mewtwo clenched a fist. He turned to a broken piece of brick from the skirmish. He held his hand out and tried hard. Very hard. He strained, causing a pain in his brow from squeezing it. Sweat appeared. Finally, a faint flicker of ice blue energy shone in his eyes and around the brick piece. It was faint. He closed his hand and tried to lift it. And found he couldn't. He let go and fell to one knee, gasping for breath. A cold sweat dripped from him. The horrible realization came to him as he panted. 'I...I cannot...do anything...'
Ren clapped. "Well, at least you can do something," he reassured him, smiling. He came over and patted Mewtwo's back. "You could at least grab that brick bit."
Mewtwo panted and stood up, holding his head. "I...know now why I have...such a headache," he panted. "I...have no access...to...my powers...anymore..." He panted and looked at his arms. "Nor...do I feel...as much physical...strength...either," he added. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and this frightened Ren the most. He had never seen anyone this proud cry before. Mewtwo clenched his fists and looked down, letting his arms down to his sides. Classic Ash pose. "No..." he breathed. He was shaking. Tears began to run down his face and gather, ticklingly, at the tip of his nose. "This...cannot be..."
"Dude...?" Ren whispered, but didn't come closer out of social instinct.
A tear from tears fell from Mewtwo's nose. "I...am nothing...I remember...what I could do...and how to do a minuscule amount of those things..." Another tear. "Telekinesis, telepathy, and how to check my own level..." Another tear. With a suppressed sob, Mewtwo whispered something that scared himself more than it could ever do to Ren.
"As of now...I am only at level 1."
Ren gaped as he saw a pokémon whose pride he made apparent to everyone he let meet him, a pokémon whose heart he tried to keep hidden deep within, begin to cry. Mewtwo first sobbed. Then another. Then he broke down and cried. 'My life...is worthless...'
And it was all Ren could do to come over and put an arm around the young man. He said nothing, for fear it would make things worse. He knew not what to say that wouldn't. So he just stayed, being there for the young man. He half-expected it when Mewtwo, totally distraught, cried into the hobo's lap, like a child to his mother.
Day 1
~Author's Notes~
For those of you who are new here, welcome. For those who are coming from the old version, welcome back, and sorry for doing this. It's just that, looking back, I know I can do far better, but I've come too far to just stop. I'm going to finish this thing someday, college and job-hunting (and video games) be damned. (And work, if I ever find any.) And I'm gonna do it as best as I can.
I understand that doing a fic where the characters go through Disney worlds like a KH game isn't that wonderful an idea so close to the release of Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance (behold, I have just dated this fic, ready to make me groan when I look back on it!) is not the best of approaches, but...at current, I have no idea how they're gonna go through them, and I doubt they'll go through them the same way I'm going to. Besides, I don't want to have wasted the past week spent planning this rewrite—and the past few years chipping away at this! I want to have fun, and as the many fans of the original (and many more of its first and only spinoff) make it clear, you guys obviously do, too.
In the interest of time and a bit of sanity, I'm going to be doing things a lit-tle differently this time...for example, doing something I've been putting off for WAY too long.
No, I don't mean going through the chapters and making omakes. I'm going to do that anyway, of course—none this time, sadly, due to lack of characters. :(
Anyway, thank you all for reading this and I hope that this rewrite (well, more like 60-edit-40-rewrite) works out well! Look forward to the end of this fic in...Mewtwo?
Mewtwo: *temporarily granted his powers again, looks into the future*...2021!
2021, folks! Straight from the cat's mouth! Let's hope I'm not living in Sealab at that time, 'cuz if I am, I'm screwed! (...How many of you got that reference?)
Okay, common sense request: When you finish a chapter, if you've got a bit of time and have something to say, talk about it in the comments! Just try not to be too spoileriffic, natch n-n;
Naija: Quit your jibber-jabbering and get out of the water!
Okay, you're right. I'll shut up...
…
Mewtwo & FT: Wait, where'd you come from? You're not even in this fic! Heck, you're—
Naija: *bwasts 'em quiet in Energy Form before fleeing*
(Behold the power of free writing at 11:50 PM, folks!)
There's a walkthrough for this chapter! Check it out at ferretrip dot wikia dot com slash wiki slash Walkthrough_1 and view the chapter through a player's eyes.
As well, I'm editing this fic a little bit. From now on, whenever a character speaks and s/he's not speaking Human, "~the dialogue looks like this, with ~'s around them, to denote that what's being said is translated.~" This is because there will be a good number of pokémon and other non-human characters who speak Human/"Common" (for worlds without humans) and some who don't.
EDIT: Added the day. I originally had this line at the end:
(Of course, afterwards, Mewtwo said that if Ren spoke to anyone of this egregious lapse in composure, the hobo would be out of more than just house and home.)
But I decided to remove it because it ruins the scene. Also edited the title to match with Kingdom Hearts subtitle practice (read: removed the colon).