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EB678: Gah! The plot bunnies got me, and I was compelled to write a pokemorph tale. Hopefully, it won't be as cliché as all of its previous incarnations on this website. It's not a "quest"
style story or the usual "angsty revenge Team Rocket" style story, more similar to the one-shottish Project Release than Trial By Legend. Anyway, this oneshot begins a series that revolves around the different lives of several pokemorphs – the genre goes all over the place, from adventure to romance to angst. Hopefully it will be a breath of fresh air after all of the bad pokemorph-centric stories out there.
Saga I. Rescue Of Grass
The little girl did not know where she was going, and the steadily growing darkness and incoming rain weren't exactly helping her chances of escaping the forest alive. She had followed the pretty bug into the forest when she could still see the sun. Then, after losing sight of the insect, she had been unable to remember which way she had entered. This wasn't too hard to accomplish, since Karly was only four years old.
Starting to panic, the little girl ran in what she thought was the right direction. She tripped on a tree root, ripping the dress her mother had bought for her, blue with a pattern of Marills. Karly started to cry, blundering through the undergrowth in a mad search for her familiar home. The sky was now dark, without even a star or a friendly moon to light the way.
Now even more worried, Karly ran again, her breath coming in sharp hiccup-y gasps as her tears continued to fall. Then, she stumbled on the hem of her once-pretty dress, knocking her head on the ground. Then everything went darker than before.
The boy looked about fourteen or fifteen as he slashed another marker onto the nearest tree, his samurai-style ponytail brushing up against its rough bark as he turned to see the form of the little girl on the ground. He stiffened. Could she see him? Synthus relaxed slightly as she did not react to his presence, but remained on guard, tensed and ready for a fight.
Synthus lowered his blades. Like a hunter warily circling its fallen prey, he neared the girl's still form, unsure yet curious. He guessed that she must be lost, and that someone would be looking for her.
Someone who cared. For a moment, he pondered what he might have become if her had had the probable family of this little girl.
There would be a mother. Someone who would hold you as a child, and love you as you grew, who would always be there for you, no matter what. Someone who would always care.
A father joined his imagining of a family, someone who would protect you from the world, and teach you to help others to protect them as well. Someone who would guide you.
A brother, your best friend and playmate, your rival and protector, all at once. Someone to be your friend.
A sister who would smile, and make you laugh, and watch over you. Someone to make you happy.
He shook it off, his twin tails brushing the ground. But Synthus made as sudden motion, as if it pick her up, but hesitated at the last moment. What do I care? Her people despise my kind, though we were all created one. Let her die, as a token of our gratitude for their treatment. Leave. Turn away.
But the image of the family, now holding this little girl, still kept his mind in its thrall. His leaf blades quivered, and in one swift motion, he held the little girl in his arms. Perhaps I do not care. But someone does for her. As perhaps someone did for me. One act can change anything. Perhaps it is my time to change something for the better.
Synthus, now carrying the body of the unconscious little girl, began walking on the path back to the world.
Thomas Parker and the police force had combed the outer woods for most of the night, his wife, distraught at the lost of her little girl, had retreated back to the house and the small comfort of her only son and eldest daughter. Tense, he ran his hands through his hair, praying to Arceus that someone, anyone, would find Karly, and bring her home. Home to her family, to safety, to love.
His prayer was answered.
A tall figure emerged from the woods, stepping hesitantly. His emerald hair gleamed slightly in the light from the house, and he held a little girl with golden hair and a Marill patterned dress.
Thomas's eyes welled up as the boy, still partially cloaked in shadow, held out the little girl. "I believe this belongs to you." He took his daughter, hugging her to his chest. As he accepted her, he felt razor sharp leaves slightly brush his wrists, but he disregarded them for a moment as he looked at the boy's face, realizing that he was not much older than his own son. "Who are you?"
The boy turned back to the woods, his twin tails brushing the grass.
"Nobody."
And the Grovyle pokemorph retreated back into the darkness of the forest, his heart confident that he had managed to change something for the better.
EB678: Short and sweet, but good I hope. There's more to come in the saga collection – these are all stand-alone fics.
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