I don't own pokemon. I only own My characters and the plotline.
Pure Light: V2
Prelude: Why did you Change?
Darkness...Everywhere… It clung to the walls with its grubby long fingers, only to be interrupted by torches that occasionally popped up on the walls, acting like mocking beacons in this underground world. The soft pitter-patter of tiny pokemon scuffling about along with the dry dripping sound of sand that seeped through the walls and ceiling of the ancient, hidden city were the only sounds the rung off the stone walls. The air was dry and dust was everywhere, flying up at the tiniest movement. Silhouettes that acted like ghosts bounced about on the walls and their little, childish giggles could be heard.
Despite the seemingly deserted appearance, these ruins housed many humans as well as pokemon. Those long, winding hallways led somewhere, and only those who knew them could find their way about efficiently, one of them being a tiny Deerling that darted about the hallways with intent heavy in its tiny footsteps. Its gait was long and the only sound it made was a soft clicking as its hooves made contact with the ground. Its large black eyes were narrowed and in their depths swam a mixture of fear and anger that fueled its legs with the oil of loyalty. Its green fur was slightly pricked with anticipation as it neared the chamber it was running for. Its shadow, once long and creeping up the wall, disappeared as the hallway expanded into a full room.
The room was large and resembled a chamber that a king would occupy. A large throne like chair was perched in the middle of it on a raised platform. In the stone seat, a girl sat, her flaming hair was her most noticeable feature. It was a waterfall of fire that seemed to burn as if it was an actual flame. Her ruby eyes held a bored, hardened expression that rested upon an old man that waited before her, who was leaning heavily on his cane. Her fingers, rough and callused from years of hard labor, tapped lightly on the armrest on her left and her long, lean legs were strewn messily over the one on the right. She wasn't unattractive, but she held an aura of 'don't touch me' that made people keep their distance. Her scarf, long tan and worn out, was draped around her long neck, adding a hint of elegance to her otherwise messy posture. Also around her neck was a pair of dark goggles that served to protect her red orbs from the harsh winds of the desert. She was clad in brown clothing that nearly matched her tan scarf. Her shorts ended upper thigh and provided easy movement and comfort as well as modesty. Under them was a pair of white stockings that were turning a light brown from the dust. Her upper half was covered with a thick tank top and a long, thin brown coat that served as more protection as well as camouflage.
The deerling scampered behind a large column and watched the girl intently. She swung each leg roughly over the arm of the throne, planting them firmly on the ground with a rough scuff from her worn brown combat boots. Reaching in her coat, she pulled out a tiny metal flask that was filled with some sort of sweetened alcohol that the deerling could smell. Such horrid habits… She took a great gulp and exhaled into the air in relief and replaced the item back into her pocket, making sure to replace the lid on her precious drink. Not so daintily, she rose, her back bending in a drunken manner. She stepped forward, each of her steps heavy and unrefined way, and made her way to the man. He shrunk down slightly, clutching some item that was hidden underneath his shirt. She stood in front of him, her tall figure towering over the short, balding old man. She watched him, her expression still unemotional, bored, and uncaring despite what she was about to do. "You know, I don't enjoy doing what I do. But someone's gotta do it and it seems I'm the only one who's capable enough to do the job," She spoke, her voice gruff and heavy with alcohol, cherry vodka to be exact. She raised her hand up, flicking it about to and fro, not caring what happened, unknowing to the fear in the man's blue, blue eyes. "And you're too damn old the carry out your duties and blah blah blah, do I really have to say this shit to you?" She asked him, her red eyes now turned into some piercing, crimson ice, "'Cause you're going to die anyway. You won't need to know this crap in heaven or hell or wherever you go." The man, surprised by her harsh words, shook his head no. She sighed in relief. "Well good. We can make this quick then. Stay still so I don't fuck this up."
She stopped flipping her hand boredly and it was poised high in a position meant to kill. Aiming for his heart, the little dagger like nails on her fingers plummeted towards the man's chest. He closed his eyes, sure he was going to die. That's when the deerling wailed and galloped forward at full speed, its hateful gaze resting upon the woman. She stopped mid strike and watched it, her expression unchanged. The little deer sprang, ready to beat the woman away from its master with all its force.
That's when all hell broke loose for the grass-type pokemon.
White teeth snapped around the little deer's throat and fire burst from the creature's fangs, making it shriek in pain and wriggle about in a feeble attempt at escape. The fires began to die down after a second, but its assailant's grip remained strong. It stepped out from the shadows, displaying its dark fur and massive muscles. The fire pokemon was up to the girl's waist without its large, curved devil horns. Its spaded tail lashed around impatiently and it sunk its fangs in deeper, ripping another screech from the deerling. Its ruby eyes showed as much care as his master's did.
"…I don't like to do this, but something always fucks it up. Last time it was a little girl, the time before a fucking mother, and now we're wanting to fight? Can't I just get this done fast JUST FUCKING ONCE?" The woman yelled in annoyance, her voice carrying years of anger just ready to blow. Her fists clenched with rage and her pokemon's teeth clenched tighter and tighter, sensing her building anger. "You, good sir, are so unlucky right now. Normally, I'm rather tolerable at the moment, but YOU WANNA GUESS WHAT?" she bellowed, her wrath now turned upon him. Suddenly, another mood swing hit her and she seemed to relax slightly. "Im almost out of Vodka."
Her fingers lashed out and wrapped around the man's throat, holding him still. Before he could breathe, her other hand plunged into his chest. There was a metallic screech that was soon joined with the man's raspy yells of pain that created a symphony of displeasure. The woman's eyes, now a little wild with rage, watched the little dots of blood show up on the man's once clean shirt, staining it dark crimson. She continued to pull though and soon enough, a tiny locket was visible. On the edge of the trinket was long, spindly legs that were embedded in his chest and gripped him tight. His skin was bulging as she continued to yank.
Soon enough, it popped and in the woman's hand was the spidery locket, its legs clenched tightly around the man's heart. Once it was detached from the actual living human, the locket, which was shaped like a little silver heart, released the organ, and it landed ungracefully on the ground with a wet plop! The man gave a short gasp and his old, wrinkled hands crept to his chest, which had a gaping hole in place where his most vital organ was. His mouth opened and closed like a fish's, saying nothing, but expressing his agony with just that simple movement. He trembled and went limp, his knees buckling and sending him face planting on the ground, dead.
Deerling's black eyes widened and tiny drops of water began to pool in them, dripping down its pale muzzle. It went limp as its trainer's last breath left his lungs. The woman saw this and she opened the locket and ripped out the tiny picture inside. The picture floated down, revealing the deerling, with a fall coat at the time, and his ageing master, who seemed happier in the picture. "Drop it, Feugo." she commanded her Houndoom. The loyal hound dropped the deerling, who collapsed to the floor in a heap of pathetic moping emotion. It tried to regain its footing, but settled for just dragging its body over to the dead man. Its trip was agonizing and it seemed to take forever for it to inch there. It wailed and sobbed the entire way, making a pitiful lament with its calls. It was dying as well, the wounds in its neck too deep for the tiny thing, its red, red blood making a tiny trail on the floor. The woman sighed and walked to the grass pokemon. "GOD! Do I have to do everything?" She hissed and picked up the dying pokemon, placing it by the man's face, allowing the pokemon to have its last moments next to the one it loved. It tucked its black nose under the man's chin, took a deep breath and went limp, content in death.
The woman snorted and turned on her heel, her companion following. "I don't like to do this shit, but no one seems to understand that. Whatever. Someone needs to bury them later. They provided us with years of service and deserve at least that." She tossed the locket up, making it spin. Blood flew from it and spattered on her face and hair before landing in her hand again, leaving a taunting imprint on her palm. Her pink tongue darted out like a rosy ghost, flitting across her bloodied lips and disappearing, taking the crimson with it. "SOMEONE'S gotta do it, and I'm the only one I can trust to do it right. So that's that. Can't trust any other person to do it. They'll go killin' all the wrong people or sparing every one or some other nonsense and neh neh neh," she mumbled to no one in her drunken stupor. She flung her hands around, illustrating her every word with wild hand gestures and crazy movements. Feugo growled lightly as the back of her hand nearly came in contact with his muzzle. "Oh. Sorry. Whatever. Who gets this shit anyway?" She held the locket in front of her face and squinted examining the shiny, crimson spattered surface. "Some blonde chick? Yeaaah…. Zia… or Matilda…? I dunno…I'll remember when I see her… I'll worry later. SOMEONE CLEAN UP THIS MESS!" she screeched again, forgetting her words of burial from earlier. She didn't care anymore. She never truly cared.
There you have it. The Prelude of Pure Light: V2! I'm going to change the name of the whole story, since it's not really so pure anymore, but for those of you who read V1, you can keep calling it Pure light if you wish. Any name suggestions? Also, Is the rating right? I wasn't sure, so I put it on M just to be safe. Should I bump it down?
Anyway, here's the Application for you to send in your Original character for me to use in this story. Follow my directions please. I would rather you send them Via PM, but if they go in the reviews, I will consider them. The ones in the PMs have first dibs!
if you would be so kind, Title your PM to me 'Pure Light OC: (insert oc Name)' This makes it easier to find for me. I'll need to be able to talk to you about your character, so keep that in mind! Without further Adieu, here is the form you should use!
Name: (First and last; middle is optional)
Age: (go Crazy. I need a lot of different ages)
Gender: (Male/Female)
Picture: (If one, just put a few spaces in there and I'll get the link. optional)
Physical Description: (hair color, eye color, body shape, ect. Give me as long as a description as possible)
Personality: (how does your character act/feel? Give me a long description for them)
History: (What made your character they way they are today? This doesn't have to be too long anymore.)
Theme song: (OPTIONAL)
Pokemon Team: (1-6 please. And keep in mind that the younger kids won't have as many as the older people unless their parents gave them some or whatever. No legendaries or very unusual pokemon. Pokemon from Unova included. Include name(if any), personality, gender and species as well as anything else.)
Legendary that Relates to them most: (Please someone put Groudon or Ho oh or something else besides Lugia and the really popular ones. Also, this isn't your favorite; this is the one that is most like your character)
