So, I decided to make a PMD fic. The idea had always bounced around in my head, but it wasn't until I came up with the plot that became this that I really got serious about one.
Also, one motive (not the main one, necessarily, but a major one) is me finding a group deviantArt revolving around pmd, so... yeah.
Anyways, I do hope you enjoy, and remember to review!
My eyes flickered open like a lightbulb about to burn out, and after a couple of tries I finally kept them open. The rest of my body was apparently out of order too, as a sharp pain in my hip kept me from getting up immediately. Not to mention that my right leg was completely dead. After a minute of simply resting and trying to wake up my damn leg, I tried just sitting up... and ended up just flopping right back down on my side in a heap.
A second try yielded positive results, though, and after walking/limping around a bit I was standing on my own two feet... and at two feet tall, it felt like.
"Whoa whoa whoa..." I said, worriedly. A quick look at my body told me what I suspected, what with short black fur and obnoxiously long claws.
"So much for my new nail clippers," I thought, blasé.
Trying to calm myself down, I took myself back to the night before. All I'd done was hole myself up in my bedroom and screw around on my DS (like every day). Of course, I had been playing playing pokemon, but nothing was notable enough to cause... this.
Not that I was too awfully scared. I was going through yet another rough phase back in the real world, internally and externally, and to have this happen took me away from it all... but for how long? Would I be like this forever? The questions bombarded my mind as soon as I was mentally aware enough to think about them. Being transported through dimensions isn't exactly easy on the head.
The landscape that greeted me wasn't exactly the most scenic, either. The woods I found myself in were barren, with some trees looking torched, others looking waterlogged and some just plain petrified. Not a place I'd like to be wandering around in for long.
Frantically searching for a river, I settled for a crude stream to confirm my eyes' story: I sure as heck wasn't human anymore.
To be specific, I was of the Sneasel species, and already I felt the Dark-type blood flowing through my veins. I ignored the random sadistic impulses that hit my brain as I stalked away, though, and once I got to a nice sturdy-looking oak I swung my claws at it just to see the results. Hey, I was a pokemon now, might as well see what I could do.
Without warning both sets of claws started to glow, and I fiercely slashed at the pine several times each.
When I stopped, a crude inspection revealed large gashes in the tree where I had struck it, awing me with their depth.
"So I really am a Sneasel... and not the weakest one out there I'm guessing..." I pondered, staring at my claws and brushing them off.
I continued on my merry little way, ambling through the forest in no real rush. Why this was was beyond me; I thought I was going to panic, but something inside of me just told me to chill and take it easy. Apparently it made a very compelling argument.
After about a quarter mile, I finally stopped, thinking, "Where the hell am I going?"
My answer came in the form of eggs, specifically Pidgey eggs, stashed under the brush and leaves underfoot. The smell suddenly assaulted my nasal passage in a full-on attack, and... it was unsettlingly delicious.
My mouth started to salivate as I picked up an egg with both paws, not being able to help myself. In one swift motion, I popped the egg into my mouth, and I cringed as I sent it back through my digestive tract.
I cringed a second time when I realized that I liked it.
After a couple more of those damn eggs, I continued on, not caring about the lives lost to satisfy a body I apparently couldn't control as well as I'd have hoped. Still, I felt good, and ready for anything that could be thrown at me.
Which was good, because at that moment I was nearly knocked off my feet by a white blur rushing right by me. It was followed a couple seconds later by a gang of smaller streaks, and after a second of pondering I decided to follow them to see where they ended up. Their path wound around trees, over logs, under branches, every natural obstacle that could be found in a forest was there it seemed.
Finally, the pokemon all the way up front skidded to a halt as it reached a dropoff into a river. The figure turned around, and a battle-scarred Absol face snarled at the gang of three in front of him, consisting of a Charmander, Chikorita, and, oddly enough, a Grimer.
"You're outnumbered! Surrender now and we might give you a bit less jailtime!" the Charmander exclaimed, as if he were a Charizard and the Absol a Wurmple. He wore an ugly bandana around his neck, a green one that completely clashed with his burnt orange coloring, well-groomed but with a touch of mud here and there. The other two members, who were beaming at the sight of their cornered crook, had the ridiculous things too.
Quietly, I wandered closer, and as I looked over the Absol I felt a sort of connection to him. Most likely it was simply because of him being Dark like me. As my eyes reached his face he glanced at me, and simply nodded as slightly as he could without being noticed.
Suddenly, he bowed his head, and smiled ever so slightly. His shoulders slumped defeatedly, almost dejectedly. "You're right. I might as well just give in to you young guys now. I don't have the boundless energy I used to..."
Slowly, he wandered down from his little perch, yards from the edge of the ledge. I glanced over at it, and guessed the drop was about twenty-five feet to a river below. Not an enjoyable experience, usually.
The young rescue teamers' eyes lit up, and slowly they reached for their bags. Foolishly, I might add.
In that instant, the Absol's right front paw emanated a faint light, and in a nearly undetectable movement delivered a perfect Sucker Punch to the Charmander's jaw. Taking my cue, I pretty cluelessly clawed at the Chikorita from behind, still not really sure of what I could and couldn't do as a Sneasel. Thanks to the fact that she was unprepared though, she collapsed relatively quickly, right over a fallen tree that had managed to stretch just outside the unofficial forest boundaries. I glanced over at the Absol as I finished off the Grass-type, and he was hurling Razor Winds at the Grimer, not daring to use physical attacks. I couldn't argue with that logic; Grimer's stench was putrid enough from a distance, not to mention the possible poisoning that could result.
The Absol looked at me expectantly as I pondered my other moves, and weakly I used what I thought was Ice Shard on the Poison-type pokemon. To my surprise, I found myself shooting, well, jagged fragments of ice! Of course, if this guy was a Muk it wouldn't have done a single thing, but against this weak little fellow it had to hurt a bit. He was taken down relatively quickly in any case, and I took a deep breath to try and refill my lungs afterwards.
Absol looked over at me with curiosity as the rescuers struggled to keep conscious.
"Something's different about you... mainly that you haven't bolted yet or made some crude joke at their expense," he noted, gesturing towards the foolish-looking crew rolling around like soldiers post-bombardment.
"Wait a second..."
Suddenly, he spun around and delivered a foot right to my face. It skimmed my feather as I ducked, and I popped up immediately, arms up to guard my head.
Absol simply smirked.
"Let me guess. Human?"
My jaw dropped, answering his question.
"No real Sneasel would be this... tame, I suppose. And I've heard about a couple humans-turned-pokemon... although to be honest they all seemed like the overdramatic type, sort of introverted. As for you... well, you seem decent enough. And not just because of what just happened with these kids," he said, his voice smooth but slightly fast.
"Okay..." I simply replied, trying to figure out this guy half as well as he seemed to have me.
A lengthy pause followed my comment. Finally, after a dozen awkward seconds, Absol questioned "Anyways, what were you thinking of doing at this point?"
"Oh, umm..." I thought about this for a while, but no response came up.
The somewhat feline pokemon facing me smiled politely at my confusion, saying "Well, I have an idea that might surprise you."
"And that would be?" I asked, unsure of what a criminal would want with me that would be a surprise... although really, anything would be a surprise.
"You and I should start our own little team. Except we won't end up like them after half our missions..." Again, poking fun at the little guys behind him.
Both of us shared a laugh at their expense, but then it hit me: this outlaw wanted to start a rescue team with me? Outlaw? Me? Rescue team?
Yeah, I'd say I was surprised.
"Okay, well, one other thing to note. We'll mostly be chasing outlaws, since that's cooler than just looking around a dungeon for some little lost lamb. Not that we won't save some people... especially those damsels in distress," he winked at this, "but yeah, mostly criminal catching."
Slowly, I nodded. "And why are you wanting to do this? Who are you anyways?"
"Ah, finally we get to the personal business. My name's Wycliffe, and obviously I'm at the moment a wanted outlaw. In the top 100 on all the major lists, from what the grapevine's told me. Not too shabby..."
He seemed go into thought for a second before snapping back out of it. He continued "But yeah. I've had my fun with the outlawing business, and while I've gotten pretty wealthy off it... I have to stop..."
His face grew as pallid as a near-black countenance can get as he said this, and my eyebrows raised themselves a little.
"Umm, you okay?" I inquired.
"Me? Oh yeah, I'm fine," he answered. "But..."
A sigh escaped his mouth, but he went on. "My mother's dying... there's a cancer or something of the sort growing next to her heart and it's not going to hold much longer..."
My legs wobbled ever so slightly.
"My father... well, he was an abuser, plain and simple. Party all day and fuck around all night, that was him. But Mom was always so upbeat, even with bruises up and down her body if the night was especially rough. Every day, she'd give almost all her food to me... she'd just pamper me as much as she could, sacrificing everything to keep me well.
"The day before I left home, she had one last confrontation with my father. He was in his normal pissy mood, and she just snapped. Nearly tore him to pieces... and I remember both of us just having a moment to ourselves, not sure what to do or where to go or anything, just knowing that he was gone and so were all those nightmares of memories. It was numbing, just sitting there, knowing that my father was dead and not shedding a single tear. It really showed what type of person he was to us… And in that moment, she looked at me with her cold crimson eyes and said... she said..."
A single, lonesome tear rolled down Wycliffe's cheek, and I was captivated... well, more like tied up, taken hostage and thrown in a closet by his narrative. After a couple seconds, he mustered the strength to continue.
"She told me, 'I don't care if you become one of the biggest outlaws in the land, but please, don't be like your father...'"
He looked at me, and smiled sadly. "She didn't know how prophetic she was... But now that she's on her deathbed, I feel like I need to redeem myself, you know? I want to show her I'm just as capable of catching crooks as I am being one... I just don't want her to die after mating with a bastard and giving birth to a delinquent."
Wycliffe finally glared at me, dead in the eyes, and his sad stare entranced me. The dark lighting the canopy of redwoods provided made his crimson irises glow, almost. Suddenly, I wasn't seeing a lawbreaker; I was seeing a misguided soul looking for one last chance to atone for his past.
"I...I-I don't know what to say..." I sputtered, slightly depressed now by his story.
"Well, I'll leave it up to you. This is a solo mission in my mind, but I need someone beside me, you know? One person does not a rescue team make. And, of course, you've got serious potential."
Gazing at Wycliffe I simply said "You've got yourself a deal, Wycliffe."
His eyes lit up a bit, though the clouds raining gloom down on him stuck around a bit. "Really?"
"Of course!" I responded, as enthusiastically as I thought appropriate. "How could I not help a guy like you?"
"Thank you so much... I'm so glad you'll help me... oh, what's your name? Wow, how'd I forget to ask that question?" he rambled slightly, making me smile. He was getting back to his real self.
"Oh, my name's Danny," I said, and Wycliffe raised a single eyebrow/space where one would be.
"Not anymore. For now on, your name will be... Ezra. Ezra the Sneasel," he determined, barely giving it any thought.
"Ezra?" I asked, curiously. Not exactly the most common name… though then again, neither was Wycliffe.
The Absol simply smirked. "Sounds more badass. Nobody'll be afraid of some kid named Danny."
At that, I followed Wycliffe to where the Aggron Guild, the biggest and best in the area, was. There wasn't a path cut out for us, but as I watched Wycliffe deftly make his way around the dead leaves and dirty ground, I knew he could find his way around.
Our journey was starting before I had a chance to stop and ponder everything, but then, that was what the nighttime was for, for just sitting and waiting for sleep to overtake you, with nothing to do with your current energy level other than sitting and thinking and remembering."
That was what the nighttime was for.
And I was a Dark-type.
Three notes:
1. I have a poll on my profile about maybe starting a contest... it would likely relate to this story, so if you liked this, go and vote on whether I should do it. ^^
2. I'd like to thank Indigo Crescent for beta'ing this chappy... he pointed out a lot of stupid errors I'd made, helped me reword awkward sentences and was, in general, a better beta reader than I could ever be. xD
3. My main issue with starting a pmd fic was keeping it original. The normal formula shoved into so many of these fics gets tiring after a while, and as such I knew I needed a great twist to make this work.
Thus, Wycliffe the Absol was born. An outlaw wanting to form a rescue team is either going to be really auspicious or, in this case, will be noble. Either way, it's pretty awesome, I'd say.
Not to mention that he's maybe my favorite character of mine ever. 3
Again, review, comment, vote on my poll, all that jazz! Gracias!
EDIT: Changed up a sentence that has been bugging me since I posted. It sounds trivial here, but seriously, I had to. xD
EDIT DOS: Took out a mention of something, as it conflicts with his history as given in chapter 3. Which is coming soon. But yeah, he now... eh, you can figure it out. ;)