LOTR/Pokemon crossover
Disclaimer: Pinky doth not ownth LOTR or pokemon. I tried to get them to say otherwise, but they just wouldn't have it.
'Lo all! Behold-Pinky lives again! 'Tis the season to the merry and relaxed and totally free-at least until I get my exam results anyway! O__O; But what the hell…better to have lived and enjoyed, than never to have lived at all, ne? ^^
Anyways, behold the latest result of Nothing-To-Do-ness-this fic! 'Tis a cross between LOTR 'n pokemon, it is! *nods head* Yep yep! It's also testament to the fact that I've now officially lost it. It's definitely a humour fic…but I doubt they'll be any random insanity. Um…ok…no promises…^^; There WILL be Ho-oh, Lugia, Suicune and Mewtwo, though. As well as the other legendaries, if mes can squeeze them in (ignores protests). There's gonna be character-bashing. Duh. Just so you know…if you didn't already…Why? So that I know that you know that I know that the fic knows that the character knows…that…oh meeble, there go my rationalizing skills…
Oh yeah, since, I'm experiencing a big fat brain freeze when it comes to names manipul-err…used…yeah, used^^;, if ya got any suggestions or want to be randomly inserted as a random LOTR character randomly, drop me a review. As long as it hasn't been used that often yet, I'm willing to consider it. See? Pinky ain't so evil after all!
(Sauron: *bagged by salamander3, now known as Sal-Mon*)
Chapter 1
Prologue: Of the questionable history of the Ring
There was a time in the history of Downtown Kanto, where truth, justice, peace and love were valiantly upheld by the gallant races that walked the earth. Where people, monsters and random unidentifiables could join hands upon stepping out in the street without the fear of being branded as freaks or outcaste circus groupies. Where the evil facades of the dark and the grim shied away from the shining goodness of life as a whole. This was, of course, not one of those times.
Even as I type-or you, in your case, read-the dark hand of the dark lord sitting upon his even darker throne in the darkest land of all reaches into the untainted depths of mortality, seeking to bend all the slow, unwitting, and/or just plain unlucky towards his corruptive influence. This lord's name was Salmon. Or, as it was officially recorded: Sal-Mon. The hyphen was self-inserted for the sake of blatantly trying to conceal his background into one of elfish ancestry. The strange part about this fiendish plot was that it actually worked.
Now, Sal-Mon may have been a Raichu, but he was also an evil Raichu. With an evil army, and an evil castle, and an evil doormat, and an evil plot. Did I mention that he was evil? Good. Sal-Mon seeked revenge against all the idiots in his youth who uncaring trampled the very vestiges of Raichu dignity by insulting his name, and his incessant squeaking habits. Of course, they were all trampled upon in return, but that was beside the point. Sal-Mon figured that since the world was already full of corrupt, blackmailing, backstabbing drones, it would be so much more proficient to turn it into a society full of corrupt, blackmailing, backstabbing drones that worshipped and idolized him! Or suffered in torment. Either way, he would be happy. So, Sal-Mon set out to achieve this goal by forging the One Ring. Why the One Ring? Well, Ho-oh granted the Wise-Trio three rings, for the domination of secret cookie recipes. Lugia granted the Pokemarts seven rings for the instant baking of muffins. And Mewtwo granted the Gym Leaders nine rings, just because he felt like it. They were all the rage. Besides, Sal-Mon liked things that were shiny. Preferably sharp too.
With sweat and muscle and toil and magic, the great ring was forged. From the fiery depths of Mt. Motar, Sal-Mon emerged, starry-eyed, rumpled, and slightly charred, but triumphant nevertheless. For there, within the palm of his paw, lay the object he had etched his heart, soul, and mind into. Twin souls in evil, they were, mirrors for each other in a cause that could not be darker. The pulse of hatred and malice throbbed deep within the cooling metal, never to be erased, or tainted. From that day forth, he was Sal-Mon no longer. He was Lord. For wearing that Ring, no army could hope to face him in battle and live. Neither sea nor mountain nor giant rampaging Onix should stand in his way every again. He would be invincible; inevitable; incredible-Then, Sal-Mon realised something that he hadn't before, and the obvious struck home with the force of a Fire Blast. He had no fingers.
But did that stop Sal-Mon? No, of course it didn't! The evil warlord Raichu merely fumbled with the ring between his two paws and reasoned that a lack of appendages did not necessarily lead to a lack of accomplishments. He took two deep breaths, twitched his ears, and counted backwards from fifty. When all that was done, he finally deemed that he was calm enough to start back.
Fourteen Thunderbolts, ten Thunders, five death glares, two assorted stranglings and twenty droppings of the aforementioned ticket to glory later, Sal-Mon finally arrived back at his HQ. And where was the HQ, you may ask? Why, it lay in the Author's Lounge; the Lounge where the shadows lie. Once again, Sal-Mon had exerted his powerful and commanding influence upon those around him, seizing the kind-of-deserted-but-otherwise-more-or-less-happy place for his own dark purposes. The generous donations of caramel cookies to the Lounge's previous inhabitants only served to speed up the process.
Thus heralded the dawn of the Dark Ages of Downtown Kanto. Massive armies of cannibalistic Pikachu, bred from their original peace-loving race, pillaged towns, ransacked houses, and more or less destroyed everything. Black, skeletal Charizards, their loose hides hanging from their bones, lay waste to everything else. That obviously meant that the giant, self-imploding Golems had nothing to do, and they spent their time playing poker and blackjack. The Free-But-Soon-To-Be-Toast Peoples of Downtown Kanto decided that it was time to strike back, and prevent the forces of Sal-Mon from taking what was rightfully theirs.
So they challenged him.
They challenged the invincible; inevitable; incredible Lord with his nifty ring.
On his doorstep.
Disguised as insurance salesmen.
It was probably the five hundred Dragonair troops stationed not-so-inconspicuously behind the group of shifty humans that gave them away. Or maybe Sal-Mon just didn't like instant sushi. In either case, he summoned his evil, dark, malicious, twisted, and not-at-all-nice army to combat the Free Peoples. Bummer.
Eventually, however, despite being on the losing end of the battle, the Free Peoples won anyway. The sequence of events went something like this:
Charizards trampled the Free Peoples.
Pikachu shocked the Dragonair.
Golem and Sal-Mon played poker.
Degenerate prisoner-of-war; a trainer by the name of Sephen, brought before Sal-Mon.
Sal-Mon laughed in his face and tried to use the Ring to turn him into a shoe.
Sal-Mon dropped the ring.
Sephen grabbed the ring.
Sal-Mon was assaulted from behind by a previously unnoticed elf (security was fired afterwards).
Sephen chucked a pokeball at Sal-Mon.
Sal-Mon was sucked into the confines of the six-inch sphere, and remains there to this very day.
Of course, as with all tools of death and utter annihilation, the Ring did not submit to defeat that easily. Deep into its web of lies and deceit it ensnared the unsuspecting Sephen, bewitching his mind with allures of wealth, power, fame and ultra-rare pokemon. And standing on the end of Mt. Motar, the trainer found that he could not bear to part with such a rare gift. He would not destroy it; could not destroy it. And he ensured the continuity of heartbreak and headache for the elves by keeping it.
And so it came to be that the dark Ring was given the chance to continue its baneful existence; ever watching; ever seeking; ever searching. For upon the day when Ring and Master were reunited, heaven and earth would crumble before their undeniable influence.
That's what the elves say anyway. It you asked Sephen, he'd claim that only cookies crumble; not destiny.
~End fic~
Lol…I had fun writing that. Hope you guys had fun reading it! ^_^
Anyways, that's it for my ridiculous slander of Tolkien's work-from here on, it's not going to follow the story that closely.
What to expect:
"Frodo" gets the ring
Nine riders
Nine "Fellowship-ers"
Elves (and/or dwarves…maybe)
Legendary interference
What not to expect:
Original names (from LOTR books)
Original LOTR plot
Original LOTR events/locations
Other stuff that I do not include, but cannot think of right now
That's it for now! Tune in next time for the next chapter; chapter two! Wow! Wasn't that a creative title?
Ideas? Comments? Suggestions? Juz click on the lil blue button below. ^-^