So… I need an opinion. I have three stories on this website. I've only been focusing on one. Should I just work on this one 'til it's done, then move on to the next one in line, or should I try to balance it out?

Pokémon isn't mine, just the characters.

Share and Enjoy, and Comment, too.


Cannon stood at the prow of his ship, feeling the breeze blow past what was left of his face. He loved these moments, provided he didn't start rusting from the sea salt, but hey, you have to take the good with the bad.

His ship was mostly wood, an old-fashioned galleon. The railing was painted blue, but the main body was simple and blank wood. The figurehead was a Gardevoir.

It was the S.S. Shellshock. It may have been just a galleon, but being crewed by Water-types meant it had the edge on any modern boat.

It had three crow's nests, one on each mast, each one manned by one of the three Murkrow. The crew started with Cannon, the captain, but also included Colonel Fang (a Feraligatr), Big Red (a Gyrados), Raticate, Scout (a Patrat), Celeste (a Milotic), Simipour, Politoed, Dewott, and Bibarel.

It was a loyal crew, not without its quirks, but a good crew nevertheless.

Cannon felt a presence behind him and turned to meet it. Celeste stood, holding a map. "Permission to speak, sir?"

"Granted."

She unrolled the chart and pointed to a spot on the sea. She looked up with her tail on the spot and said, "Humans."

Cannon felt a brief flash of panic, then stomped it flat. Keeping composure, he began stomping across the deck. "How do we know this?"

She folded the paper and slithered alongside him. "Red was swimming ahead when he saw a private skiff out on the edges of the territory."

"Impossible," he rumbled, "Humans have never made it that close to our land. They never get past all the storms and whirlpools."

"Technology marches ever onwards, captain. Besides, it can't storm all the time."

Cannon blew a bubble from his pipe. "Indeed. Well, it's lucky we're always at the call. Fang!" he roared.

The Feraligatr burst from below deck and saluted. "Yes, sah!"

"Humans have breached the Wall of Storms. We're going to intercept them and drive them back, hopefully without any injuries to either party."

"Yes sah!" He ran up the stairs to the wheel. He took the wheel from Politoed and started shouting orders. "All right boys, quit yer slackin' off and get to work! Coordinates, Cap'n?"

Cannon nodded to Celeste. She slithered to the stern and fiddled with an compass.

Cannon watched as Raticate and Dewott raised the sails and tightened the rigging. He nodded to himself and went below deck.

He found himself in the galley with Simipour.

She handed him a bowl of stew. "There ye go, Cap'n."

"Thanks, chef. No one cooks quite like you do."

"Ye flatter me, luv." She curtsied and returned to her cooking.

Cannon ate slowly, listening to the creak of the ship and the noise from above. He loved this life.


Mason was an Excadrill. He was responsible for most of the construction in The Forge, and he was well respected, even if he was fairly young.

He was visiting the elders' chamber.

"Eh? Who is it?"

"It's me, Charmont. Mason?"

"Oh, come in! Come in!" The old Charizard opened the door.

Quill looked up from his desk. "Ah, young Mason. How are you?"

"Fine, fine." The Excadrill took a seat, careful not to let his spikes puncture the fabric. "How is the place holding up?"

"Wonderful. You do good work, you do." Quill set his writing quill down and stood up. He stretched. "Lad, Miss Maggie wanted to see you, by the way."

Mason felt a chill. "Did she say why?"

"No," Charmont said, "but she had something for you, I think." The dragon curled up on the rug.

Mason looked at the doorway into the elder's room. He looked at Quill, who motioned with his hands to go on. He took a breath and entered.

Miss Maggie fancied herself a gypsy. She came off as a crazy old lady, but she was still respected and honored, because she always knew what she was talking about.

She even had the crystal ball.

When Mason sat at the table (her room looked like the basic gypsy tent), she emerged from behind the curtain.

The elder Heatran was covered in jewelry. Her age had left her slow and arthritic, as her magma body had long ago hardened. She wore a burgundy shawl, and one of her eyes were always drifting. Never both at once, just one at a time.

"Hello, child."

"Hi, Miss."

"I thought you might want some cookies?" She held up a tray.

Mason smiled. "Sure." He took a Lava Cookie (of course that's what they were, dummy). Whatever else you could say about Mother Maggie, she was an excellent cook.

"No, not really."

"Is that why you wanted me?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry."

"I was afraid of that."

"I'll tell you in a second."

"What did you need then?"

"If you insist."

"Can you please stop answering my questions before I've asked them?"

Maggie smiled as Mason put a claw to his suddenly aching head.

"Sorry, child, but I've got to have some fun too, don't I?"

"It's all right," Mason mumbled, waving his hand.

Maggie sighed. "I wanted to see you because I want you to be ready."

"Ready? For wh-"

"Ready for property damage. There's going to be a lot in the next few days, and you should have a hand in fixing it."

"What? Why tell me? Why not tell someone like the General so he can stop it from happening?"

"Because, young stonemason, it is unavoidable. Mister Circuit knows what's going to happen, more or less, and he has ideas, you see. He knows a disaster is about to happen, and he thinks he can work it, use it to his advantage, and turn it into a net gain."

Mason paused. "Will… will it work?"

"I don't know. But The Forge is going to be somewhat upset for the next few days." She waved a claw over her crystal, which glowed a fiery red. A pair of evil black eyes floated from the flames. She stared at him, her eyes straight for the first time.

"But if anyone can do it, it's General Circuit."


Said General was sitting in the hall with Forrest, trying to teach him how to play poker.

Circuit was winning.

"Ha! Straight! Beat that!" Forrest shouted triumphantly, flashing his cards. He had nine, ten, jack, queen, and king.

Circuit raised an eyebrow and revealed his cards. Royal flush.

Forrest stared at the cards in disbelief, then face-palmed. Circuit chuckled.

A groan came from the throne. Forrest stood and saluted. Circuit gathered his cards and pocketed them. He stood and waved. "Howdy, Furnace."

Furnace's flames had ignited, growing from the dull orange glow on his tail, shoulders and head to a bright white flame. He sat up and pulled his poncho off, freeing his shoulder flames. He lifted himself off the chair and hobbled towards them.

Forrest had suspected, but when Furnace stepped into the light, that proved it.

"Ahah! He's a Magmortar, just like Burne!"

Furnace flinched at the name. His eyes had a hunted look about them.

His voice was similar to a crackling fire. "Please, don't say that name. It is full of shame." He walked closer and looked at Circuit.

Forrest felt short. Furnace was shoulder-height with Circuit. That still put him head-and-shoulders higher than Forrest.

Furnace blinked blearily. "It's great seeing you again, old friend. And this one is…?"

Forrest stuck out a hand. "Forrest of Team Triumphant, at your service!"

Furnace took the hand gingerly. "Charmed." He looked over his shoulder, as though someone was following him. "Circuit, I really am glad you're hear. I don't know why, but-"

"It's alright, Furnace." Circuit put a hand on Furnace's shoulder, ignoring the flame. "Tell me what you can."

Furnace took a deep breath and started pacing. "It started about a month ago. I've been having these… nightmares."

"Hmm."

"It's like I'm reliving those…" He glanced at Forrest. "…incidents… all over again. Things I've tried to forget, things I never knew in the first place, things that should be left buried…" He turned to Circuit, tears in his eyes. "Circuit, I'm so sorry. If I could have stopped him, I would…" He started sobbing.

Circuit's eyes softened. He handed his cane to Forrest, who nearly collapsed from its weight, and embraced the aged Magmortar.

Forrest struggled under the weight of the cane. Fast he was, but he wasn't very physically powerful. The cane was thick and about a foot longer than was normal, but it still shouldn't be that heavy.

Furnace calmed down and resumed his pacing. He whistled. A battle-scarred Braviary flew from an opening in the ceiling that presumably led to an attic. He swooped down and perched on Circuit's shoulder. There was a bag strapped to his back.

Furnace waved vaguely. Braviary nodded and pulled a scroll from his bag. Circuit opened the scroll and read. He winced.

"You need to work on yer handwritin', son," he said, a look of disturbed fascination on his face. No one scowls better than a Braviary, and this one was one of the best.

Circuit read the scroll. Forrest felt a sense of worry growing as Circuit's face slowly changed from bemusement to worry to outright fear. He rolled the scroll and grabbed his cane back.

"Furnace," he said slowly, "I know a good psychic, several even, and even a decent therapist. I think you should just… lie down, take a rest, until one of them can get here." He pulled a bulky phone from his pack and dialed a number.

A look of panic crossed Furnace's face. "No!" he shouted. "I can't sleep. That's what he wants! I haven't slept in days! If I go to sleep, he'll have control, I should know, it's what I did last time! He's getting stronger every day and-Aargh!"

Furnace clutched his head. The flames all over his body were flickering, smoking. Furnace fell to all fours, panting. His fire was white, but it wasn't as bright anymore. Now it looked like it was struggling to stay lit. And there was all that smoke.

Forrest glanced at Circuit, who was watching with a blank look, as though he couldn't quite decide what to make of this.

Furnace screamed, and collapsed.

Furnace rushed to his side. Psychotic breakdown or not, Forrest was a doctor. He couldn't just stand by.

Circuit tensed. "Careful…"

Forrest checked his pulse. Healthy. Body temperature… low, but not too low. There didn't seem to be anything-

Furnace's body flames winked out, leaving the smoke behind. His body started shaking.

"Heh…heh heh…hehehehehahahaHAHAHAHA!"

His arm flung out, sending Forrest flying.

"Ah, it feels good smell the smoke once more." He stood up and dusted himself off.

Forrest leaped to his feet and pulled a Silver Spike from his coat pocket. "What's going on?" he asked, voice shaking.

"Haha, you. Kids these days, eh?" He glanced at Circuit, who seemed to be shaking himself.

Turning back to Forrest, he said. "From your reaction when that fool Furnace fell, I can tell you have some medical experience. That means you're not stupid, I should hope." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes said, 'It's because of my kindness that you aren't dead.' He started walking towards Forrest, hands behind his back. Forrest scrambled to back up, but encountered a wall.

The smoking Magmortar smiled horribly. "Go on, use those brains, Doc." He leaned down so that they were eye-level. "Who am I?"

Forrest gulped. He looked into those eyes and wished he hadn't. There was madness in those eyes.

"Go on. Tell me."

And Forrest whispered, "Burne."


Here he is, folks. Any questions?