Chosen OCs:
Protagonists:
Hayden Baker- 2539- Illusion Fox
Kambri Eldin- 7162- Illusion Fox (I tweaked her from the original form)
Brian- 1640- MewBladeXxX
Lauren Fithars- 1123- Tyltalis
Sam Strider- 1993- Traveling Master
Luca Vale- 6259- Rhapsody Duskbane
Antagonists:
Ryan Viper- 2112- Vnight
Sub Commander Blacktwist- 8147- BeatTheFox
Clara Darwin- 0394- Demolition Panda
Allen Miller- 1536- ChaoticXXHearts
Solomon Cairo- 2121- Mitternachtmoon
Meredith Sarni- 4937- Illusion Fox
Mysterious Guides (Yes it is PLURAL! HAHAHAHA! My mind came up with an excellent idea!):
Lucin Edelstein- 2419- CookiesAndCreamsareAwesome (AKA: Mikiglaceon)
Devin Powell- 1600-Makaidos
CONGRATULATIONS! NOW, AFTER READING THE STORY, YOU MUST PLEASE ENTER YOUR POKÉMON'S ABILITY AND MOVES BECAUSE I FORGOT TO PUT THAT IN THERE! THANK YOU! HERE IS THE NEXT STORY!
Also, special shout-out to Tyltalis, who impressed me with her review of my story: Yes, I picked the name "Hayden" for a very good reason. You'll see why as we go through the story~! I'm surprised you caught that! Heheh.
Disclaimer: Don't own pokémon or the image for the cover of my story
Warning: A lot of cursing. Courtesy of my OC, Kambri.
It wasn't like she was stealing. No, of course she wasn't! The girl was simply doing this to survive. Plus, those people didn't even need the stuff she had taken—no, borrowed from them. It wasn't like they even realized she was steal—borrowing the stuff they had.
'They take my stuff, too,' she would reason to herself as she was just about to sleep in the dark, disgusting alleys. 'This is just . . . payback.'
The girl was just like every other poor bum on the streets; her greasy and messy black hair was tied by a measly rubber band into a side ponytail with her bangs falling in front of her steel-gray eyes. An annoyingly stubborn cowlick stood straight up from her head, making it look like some sort of bending antenna. Her navy blue jacket was tattered and full of holes, and all she had under that was a stain-covered white undershirt. She even wore men's cargo pants, which was, of course, stitched together very poorly. And of course, like every other person, the numbers 7162 were embedded in her lightly tanned skin.
Barefoot, the girl ran through the rocky streets of City 31-9. The buildings were cracked and eroding away. The only building that still seemed intact was the Galactic Veilstone Building and the Veilstone Game Corner. The girl didn't know what "Veilstone" meant, but since it had to do with those weird yet powerful people with the strange costumes, then this "Veilstone" had to be evil.
The sky, as usual, was a lumpy shroud of dark purple, and the streets were littered with garbage. At some places, there were gray ashes and the remains of houses. Those houses belonged to the people who tried to fight those scary people with the strange "G" sign on their clothes. Or, in 7162's words, she called them "Blueheads." Bums like 7162 shuffled aimlessly through the streets, the blood from their bare feet slithering behind them like a snake. Little children clutched their stomach, dying from starvation as they would lay limply in an alley corner. It was pitiful.
There was no use to borrow things from people like her, which 7162 knew. There was nothing to take from them.
The black-haired girl slinked slowly towards an oblivious person with the "G" sign on his clothes. They were always full of good stuff. She was practically right behind him when she stuck her hand in his pocket, grabbing the first thing that her hand felt.
"Waah? Stop! THIEF!" the person cried, squirming. He tried to punch her or at least injure her, but the girl was already running away. Shadow balls whizzed past her ear, grazing lightly over the tips of her hair. The edges burned, but 7162 continued to run, stuffing the unknown item into her hoodie pocket, not daring to look back. By this time, the rocks underneath her feet were dangerously piercing her skin, drawing blood.
Behind her, she heard the familiar pokémon call of a Murkrow and the sound of its beating wings. Black feathers fell in front of her, gently falling on the top her head. These devils were everywhere in the town, and that wasn't a good thing. The dark pokémon were the spying cronies of the Blueheads. And with this Murkrow following her like Venomoth to a flame, it was no doubt that whatever she had taken was valuable.
"Mur! Murkrow!" the dastardly pokémon cawed, flapping its wings as it soared over 7162. It kept perfect, flawless time with her, beating its dark wings so she never escaped it.
"Shit," she cursed under her breath, eyeing the Murkrow in the corner of her steel-gray eyes. Her feet were now soaked with blood; she couldn't keep this up much longer. Bending down while slowing just a tad bit, the black-haired girl swiped a pointy, black rock from the ground. Without even thinking twice, she abruptly stopped where she was and hurled the stone at the Murkrow.
"MURKROW!" it squawked irritably, the stone hitting its left wing. The pokémon gave 7162 a dark glare before flying off sideways; its right wing could not work properly after 7162's attack.
"Heheh, damn demon ain't gonna fight back? Coward!" she sneered, quite proud that she was able to scare off the thing.
(Page Break)
7162 limped through the dark alleyways, her hand touching the rough surface of the crumbled walls that were once buildings. Her feet ached and burned, making the girl want to wither in agony, but yet she hung on. The excruciating pain was getting to the point where she wanted to collapse and just lay there, waiting to die. However, that feeling wasn't quite there yet. Close, desperately close, but not quite there. She's still teetering on that thin line of sanity.
And with a sudden snap, that silver thread of sanity broke.
"Ha. . . Haha! Hahahahahaha," 7162 laughed giddily, her eyes fogged and unclear. She could make out the small, rotting wooden shack that leaned against one of the broken houses. Next to it, piles of garbage and dirt began to collect. A horrible stench of spoiled food and metallic blood wafted towards her nose. 7162's crazed grin grew. She had made it back to her home.
Falling to her knees, the girl crawled into the small shack of the home, staring at her bloody feet.
"Let's see what I've earned today!" she whispered sweetly to herself. "Bastards ain't ever gonna catch me! Heheh!"
Slowly, she fumbled around in her pocket, her fingers clenching around a sphere. She took it out, revealing a shiny ball. On the top half, the colors were black and yellow, the bottom half being just white. Oh, it was so shiny. . .
"Interesting, don't you agree, 1993?" a tall, young man asked another man. "Quite impressive, having an Ultra Ball like that. Looks like the little girl has been saving the little coins in her piggybank!" The man smirked teasingly. He looked so out of place here, with his bright white fedora atop of his handsome silver hair. His eyes were, again, bright gray, giving a great contrast to 7162's dark ones. His attire was fancy; a black button-up shirt with black jeans and white steel-toed boots. Tall and wiry, he loomed over the insane 16-year-old girl, who held the so-called "Ultra Ball" close to her chest.
"Fuck off," she hissed.
"Heh, she's funny," the other one said, with a happy smile on his face. "Crazy, but funny. I can deal with her." Unlike the first man, he was a huge contrast from him; he had short, black hair and warm brown eyes behind surprisingly well-kept glasses. His skin was a light, hazel nut tan. He too wore a black shirt, but it wasn't a button-up. The smiley man stuffed his hands in his jeans' pockets, tapping his white shoe against the rocky ground. Warmly, he extended his hand to the bum. "Name's Sam. Well, it's really 1993, but, well, an old friend of mine told me a little story about having different names and so on and on! Heh, it's a long story really." The guy laughed for a moment before looking back at 7162.
"I'm 7162. You can't call me anything else, bastard," she said darkly, swatting the hand away.
"Feisty, aren't you?" Sam chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetie."
7162 hissed again, and soon the two were engaged in a fiery conversation. Well, to put it more simply, 7162 was the one who was throwing rather nasty insults at the happy-go-lucky man. Sam just waved every petty curse away like it was nothing, and he added quick and funny comments that only enraged the girl even more.
"They're gonna get along just fine!" the silver-haired guy said pleasingly, taking out a golden pocket watch and inspecting it closely. "Aw, look at the time. Well, I'll be off! Heh. . . heh . . ."
And with that, the somewhat eerie man disappeared, leaving very bipolar opposites alone.
(Page Break)
"A stolen Driftblim, you say?"
"Y-yes, Lady Meredith. A little bum off the streets managed to get her hands on it."
The room was bright, with ornate paintings hanging on fancy walls. An expensive, golden chandelier swayed to the cold draft of the room. Lavishing rugs were spread across the hardwood floor. Toys and pokémon plushies littered the floor. Under the chandelier was a wooden oval-shaped table, polished to perfection. Little treats and sweet desserts were displayed evenly across the table, served on a silver platter. An extremely young girl, perhaps twelve years old, sat on a fancy wooden chair, holding a flamboyantly designed tea cup. Like a pampered Glameow, the girl a wore frilly and lacy white dress. Her pink hair, tied into two high pigtails, curled into ringlets. Her amber eyes gave no pity as they bore into the Galactic grunt before her.
"Is that so? And you let her get away, did you?" her voice was cold, merciless.
Next to her, a tall albino stood as guard, watching the grunt with amusement. Other than the cold and collected expression he had, he was looked quite out of place in the rich, fancy setting. His whole head and body was completely shaded by a black-hooded cloak. However, his pale white hand could obviously be seen in contrast with his black cloak, the bright numbers 1536 tattooed onto it. He held an old, wobbly cane that was astonishingly sturdy.
"Y-yes, Lady Meredith, but—"
"What a pity," she said, interrupting the grunt. "I do love a cat-and-mouse game. . . What about my little Murkrow? Aren't they flying around, catching the thief?"
"No, Lady Meredith."
"And why not?"
". . . the thief has escaped the city, Lady Meredith," the grunt explained.
"The game ended? So sad. Already, I grow bored. . . Allen! Give me game suggestions."
The tall man next to her nodded. He spoke in a raspy voice, "Perhaps . . . it is time to play with Flicker, my Lady?"
The little girl nodded, taking out a polished Luxury Ball. "Time to play!" With a flash of dark violet, a Lampent appeared before them, floating ominously toward the grunt. Meredith looked at the tall man next to her. "Does Xavier want to play to?" she asked innocently.
"No," came the raspy response.
The rich brat smiled darkly, staring at the grunt like he was a meal. "More fun for me~!" she giggled, and motioned the ghost pokémon towards the grunt. She sipped her tea and tapped her finger against the table.
"Laaaammmmmm. . . Peeeennnnnnttttt . . ." the pokémon growled, its bluish-violet flame growing as it approached the grunt. The grunt fell to his knees, withering in pain as his life slowly seeped away from him.
"Oh, how I do love this! Go on Flicker!" the girl giggled maniacally. She was so caught up in her game that she didn't notice Allen slowly drift away, not wanting to see the rest.
"Life is a game," Meredith's high-pitched voice ringed in his ears, reminding him of those days when she first hired him as a butler. "I do enjoy games, Allen . . . but I do not intend to lose."
Even on the first day, they played a game. It was truth or dare. . .
"My mother . . . my father. . . even my elder brother have lost their game. However, I will not. I will become stronger, Allen. I do not pity those who fall victim to me. I do not respect those with greater authority than me. Rather, I use my little pawns and knights to my advantage, and to my advantage only. For those who have greater authority than me, I will wait and outsmart them. I will win."
"Truth or Dare," Allen asked.
"Truth."
"Meredith . . . is that why you killed your father? So it would be you who would win?" Allen had asked her, his face and voice calm. "Pretty unforgivable if you ask me, little girl.
". . . No," came her soft response. "And you are forbidden to call me—"her voice cracked as she whispered, "little girl."
By this time, the girl had her back towards the albino man. There was something on her mind, Allen knew that.
"My father died because those Galactic Grunts couldn't protect him. He was one of the most powerful commanders, and yet, he faltered and fell. No one was able to fix his broken pieces. So he was just lying there, hanging onto life by a thread. He wanted to die, Allen. He hated to see himself so weak and helpless. So I let Flicker take his life. He's still here, with me. It makes me know that I'm not alone in this . . . game."
Allen didn't say anything to that.
"Truth or Dare?" she asked him.
"Truth," he picked randomly.
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" she wondered.
"A near-death experience."
"?"
Allen smirked. "Perhaps I could tell you it for a bedtime story, My Lady."
"Imbecile," she spat.
"Truth or Dare?" Allen asked.
"Truth."
"Why did you hire me, a poor streets kid?"
Even with Meredith's back facing him, he could see the small smile curve on her lips. "I thought it would be fun. After all, Allen Miller, you intrigue me. When we first battled . . . I was surprised that your cool and calm façade collapsed, showing a fiery and naïve belief of pokémon and people. Pokémon and people together, working as friends. . . I cannot imagine a world like that. And yet, I find Flicker becoming a trustworthy pawn. Hopefully you will become trustworthy, too."
"Truth or Dare, Allen?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to never leave my side and be forever loyal to me, and only me."
So, what do you think? Review~!