Alfie was, in a word, pissed.
In multiple words, however, he was utterly terrified for the safety of him and his family on this lovely hellstone rock we call Earth. But above all that, he was pissed. He would describe his mood as "urinating all over those scum that label US the monsters". Why you ask?
His home had just been the site of an incursion from the recently formed "PLM", or "Pokémorph Liberation Militia". His village had been pillaged and his people slaughtered or taken as prisoners, likely to be re-purposed in some sick form of entertainment. He knew from watching that his older brother was the only survivor (other than him) in his family. And he could do nothing about it, not by fighting back nor by hiding in the thin undergrowth less than a mile away - a fact that he hated, though he supposed he was spiting the wretched ones by denying them the satisfaction of the pain all the others would have to, if not already have, endured. This in its entirety sickened him to the bone, leaving him beyond furious. Though later this fury would boil down to resentfulness, then sadness; eventually he would likely be left a despairing mess.
He looked upon his past with disgust. Sure, humanity had behaved hideously towards the morphs centuries ago, when his ancestors didn't know better and thought they were a scourge sent by Arceus - a scourge indeed to the entirety of the human race as of present - but things had been turning up! Over a century ago slavery as a whole was abolished, including enslavement of pokémorphs, alongside enslaved humans might I add. In the late 20th century, alongside the humans experiencing prejudice for the colour of their skin or their gender, pokémorphs gained equal standing in society. They had much more than their fair share of misery stabbed through their hearts throughout their history, but so had so many humans alongside them, and that was no excuse for their crimes.
But, some of them didn't enjoy the peace. Some of them enjoyed the violence and conflict leading up to this point. And by "them" I don't point specifically at morphs as a species, but sick, twisted individuals of both human and morph, who took guiltless pleasure out of suffering individuals.
People, human and morph alike, along with their pokémon friends, lived alongside in peace for a good few decades. There were the odd hate crimes cast upon us by groups who despised morphs, but we paid them no heed. But, some zealots paid heed in gold, and so sprung up tiny little extremist groups hell-bent on the separation of our species. They were an untied end that would over time unravel, winding apart our utopia.
Street violence became more and more frequent with supposed scandals, backed by what we now see was forged evidence, incriminating the innocent. Social divides were being reforged, and tensions were reaching all-time highs.
Unbeknownst to humanity, a frankly enormous group of pokémorphs had been spending years slowly but surely recruiting followers and gathering weaponry to shatter the peace and start wars. It all began in 2017, when the PLM sprang into action, and, from within the city itself, seized control of Washington DC, slaying the President of the United States alongside hundreds of thousands of civilians. Simultaneously, other major cities across the world were blitzed upon and successfully seized; some were promptly reclaimed, others were lost. The international community was in turmoil, and this ultimately led to the declaration of war between humanity and the Pokémorph Liberation Militia. On the streets of unaffected regions, morphs were attacked and murdered in cold blood out of fear for the safety of families and communities. Morphs fought back, and the "us or them" mentality formed.
Several years later, North and South America were under complete control, alongside all but the North-East of Africa and most of Southern Asia, by the PLM. Ironically pokémorphs were murdered alongside humans by the militia, considering their supposed intentions were to liberate all morphs. They were murdered under the excuse of being 'heretics' and 'misguided'. Europe was holding somewhat firm - it had already experienced two world wars, and was not about to be torn by another - and some of Asia was still under human reign - notably Russia, who had a tremendous advantage with their weather. Humanity still had the resources to manufacture and fight, though food was a concern and governments began rationing it for the sake of lessening future strain. The population though, well, humanity was on a fast decline.
Now, the industrial powerhouse of the human empire is losing its steam and is treading on warm coals, but the Pokémorph Empire is as strong as ever. It was a losing standoff, with humanity living in wasted slums in destroyed regions, and forsaken morphs struggling to survive among human-occupied land. Two beasts slicing the world in half, snarling and struggling to gain the upper hand.
That's how it came to this, with Alfie watching his family and friends get cut down or imprisoned for the crime of being human while hiding among the foliage of the Isles of Scilly, battered down but never to give up. He supposed if he escaped, others must have too. And, there's a lot of abandoned property to search, use, and possibly weaponise. Of course that doesn't consider that he may be imminently facing his demise, but looking beyond that...
He would go far as all hell to protect those dear to him. His surviving neighbours, his brother. He would get revenge on those bastard morphs whether he had to drag himself into the pits of hell to bring them with him.
"Lovely sandwich you got there. Mind if I take a bite?"
Oh, how I loved this job. 'Go get us some food' they said, 'Don't care where from, just get it' they said, and so I do. I take a run from my humble residence in a crumbling apartment within the decaying remains of Manhattan (high-rise buildings had collapsed for the most part, but more to-ground buildings had generally fared better) - the place of residence so generously left behind for the surviving humans by the Pokémorph empire - and pop into the rest of (New) New York, nabbing whatever supplies I can from unsuspecting shopkeepers and pokémorphs sitting lonesome on a bench.
And this is where I am now, sitting alongside an adolescent zorua morph on a war memorial bench; the words engraved into the label that make me want to spew. It takes most of my concentration to avoid engraving a very inappropriate picture into the aforementioned sign that I wouldn't ever want a child - morph or not - to see.
The morph turned away from his mobile and looked into my grinning face, as I leaned forwards, took a chunk out of his tuna sandwich, before grabbing it and taking off. The look of shock on his furry face was priceless! Arceus above, I could do this for years and never get bored - I already have been I suppose.
The started yelp I would have put a heavy price on to mute, however, because that would certainly grab attention, evident by the fact that a very pissed off pignite-morph storekeeper charged out of his storefront, yanking the frozen kid off onto his paws to my pursuit. On second thought, I should have just nabbed from the organic foods market, rather than freshly picking off of unsuspecting strangers. Poor kid, he just lost a rather scrumptious sandwich.
I dashed along the lesser populated streets that I knew like the back of my hand, desperate to shake them off. This (and the demented screaming behind me) only gathered more attention, which was just swell for my inflated human pride. Besting the creatures that claim to be so superior to us 'lesser beings' does that to your ego.
Soon I was being pursued by a horde of - would displeased be an understatement? - all sorts of morphs - some various once-starter pokémon, and a wide variety of pigs - some actual pig morphs and some obese, privileged snobs who would without a doubt shove me down their gullet - to name a few. Good thing I'm fast and they're lumbering bowling balls. I had watched the sport a few times from the shadows, and I'm surprised behind me there aren't morphs being knocked down like pins and getting trampl - never mind, speak of the devil.
I charged into an alleyway full of trash, conscious of the fact that if I were gagging already, this must be a Darkrai's nightmare to those mutts. I rubbed some particularly greasy trash over my jacket for good measure, and vaulted the wall using a bin, a bigger bin, and skill learnt from years of survival theft. The mob of bird-pellets-for-brains ran past, oblivious of my rather eloquently performed exit.
Now that lunch was out of the way, I could focus on why I was truly here - as much as I love the action, I have people to care and provide for. My friend's adopted sister - whom he found being confronted by a pitiful pack of shinx and luxio morphs (none of them had even evolved into luxray!) and promptly saved - was in a nasty state, and everything we could spare was going to her. She was only one of many, though.
My buddy is pretty freaky if you ask me when those he loves have a hand (or paw) laid on them, and I'd be concerned about the safety of any foe if they harmed her. I've seen what he can do, and his stormy tempers make me crap myself (funny story, actually, though I was not the star of it). His ability to think in the moment, not to mention his skills in a fight, are almost inhuman.
Other than the occasional freakish outburst at deserving morphs and humans, Lu is a pleasant person to be around, though he is a tad bit lavish at times. He sees himself as a guardian of sorts, protecting those close to him. Actually, scrap that. He's stepped into street fights to protect morph kids from human and morph foes alike. Pretty heroic if you ask me - I and certainly none of the other runners would do such a thing.
We all have to be cautious in this world - we could be discovered and attacked at any moment. Even in the decaying Manhattan, where there's a surprisingly strong sense of community and 'We're all in this together', you could get attacked by crazed, hunger driven gangs. I myself carry a small pocketknife but I only use it as a last resort; I only do this to survive, nothing more; I will fight if I must without hesitation though. He, however, will face down any who stand in the way of the safety of those close to him, no matter how large (vertically or wide - being crushed by blubber is a real risk!) the opponent.
I feel slight pity for those kids - they aren't to blame for the mistakes their ancestors have made, much like I'm not for the mistakes of mine. But, I'm a pacifist and avoid violence wherever possible, who prefers yelling derogatory terms to put it lightly. Some of the insults I come up with on the run really rile them up, which is both a great source of entertainment and often makes them slip up in their offence-induced rage.
Again, I'm off track. Darn emotional turmoil of near-death experiences followed by gathering supplies to prolong my pitiful lifespan.
I trod lightly through these alleys and back streets. They're amazing, safe(?) ways of getting around - well, until you let someone know you're there; if that unfortunate scenario becomes reality you're probably canned food.
I decided that I would go after one of the easier stores today. A small convenience store with a pharmacy. They didn't ever have much worth a run, but they were easy pickings for an otherwise fruitless day like today. Curse my childish tendencies.
I and the workers in this store are on first-name basis by now. Over the years I've robbed them so much that they hardly give chase, knowing that they can't catch me. I've even managed a good conversation or two with my pursuer. I feel kinda bad, but I need this stuff much more than they need a few bucks, and I'm pretty sure they feel somewhat sympathetic for me, too.
Still on a bit of an adrenalin high, my brain gave me the 'to hell with it' mentality (or lack thereof) and I walked through the front door. Call me a moron, but these shopkeepers are surprisingly ignorant of their surroundings until you walk up to their faces to pay. And, these back streets are for the most part empty.
I was in a charitable mood and nabbed two loaves of bread, a plastic bag's worth of tinned foods and a few packets of various medicines. I have no clue what this stuff does - not my job to know, and not my problem - but it can all be put to use - even the hallucinogenic crap. I ended up in the stationary aisle, and my highly intelligent mind dictated that it would be a swell idea to open a box of pens, tear open a post-it-note packet, write a quick 'thank you' message and promptly slam down the note on the checkout, before sprinting towards the door, swinging it open, and vanishing to the voyage back home. It was a nice, genuine note, honest!
The clerk stared at the now swung-shut door, taking in that wonderful bell chime as the human scurried away. The growlithe morph then peered down at a yellow note with some notes scribbled furiously onto the poor, inanimate object.
'Thanks for the food and medicine, good to know that a 6-year-old child will be getting the help she needs tonight. With great and genuine thanks, Henry'
"What in the distortion world? That pest can write? Wha...?"
Edit for grammarly-induced OCD about my SPaG, my excessive snarkiness, and keyboard-induced fears of double-clicking. Damn you, hyperX.
And, a further edit to fix more of my excessiveness and because when you write stuff at 10pm and publish it two hours later without making a plan you tend to write some stupid stuff. Also writing on my old laptop, so double clicking shouldn't be a problem now. Will try to fix that soon.
A/N: Well, that's the first chapter done. I'm trying to use this chapter to set up two main characters in completely different areas of the world - one in New York as, well, very densely populated city, and it would be a prime target for anyone wishing to lay waste to humankind, and is an often-used location in other fics I've read - to be frank the only knowledge I have of it is from said fics. I'll try to stray away from other fics set in Manhattan, but i'll keep the location the same because I can't be arsed to spend another hour or two looking at new settings. If any authors have objections to this as they feel it's too similar to their own works, I'll be happy to change it.
The other location is the Isles of Scilly to the South-West of Cornwall, England. Since I'm using a separate character to display the impacts of the war as it is still being fought, I felt that Britain and Europe as a whole would be a great place to start due to the continent's history with war, and not just the world wars. I plan on having Henry and Lu be the main characters, with Alfie as a side character used only to show the progressive impact of the war on both the human countries and the health (mental and physical) of those involved. In other pokémorph war stories I've read, the content has been amazing and a massive source of inspiration for this story, however I haven't seen much emotional impact. This war is tearing apart regions, and I feel that showing how that impacts communities would be fairly heavy-hitting. To counteract the heavier aspects I wish to implement, I (and my sarcastic lip) intend to incorporate some attempts at comedy to lighten the mood. I'm bad at jokes, so bare with me, and point out when I should chill down.
I also plan on incorporating a few of the legendaries. In other stories, people make some references to the legends, but I truly want to incorporate a way of intervention from them in this story. I have a pretty clear mind for how I would have them go around doing this, and I think it's nailed down well, but I would appreciate any input. In the next chapter I'll expand on Alfie's viewpoint and the war as a whole. I don't want humanity to be crushed after world leaders bicker a load, because we're a tenacious bunch. I want humanity to be at a big disadvantage, with much less resources, and a fair bit less territory, but still going (somewhat) strong, with the extremes within the territory of the other, such as the human settlements in Pokémorph Empire controlled regions.
I would like to thank Johto Gunner for his fanfic "Humanity's Last Hope", which was the inspiration for this fic. It gave me a completely different perspective on how one could go around the idea of pokémon transformations and morphs and the such, to the point where I felt like I could get off of my idle rear end and write - I've always been more of a reader.
No promises for a schedule, but since as of 18/03/2020 I'm off school for the foreseeable future (thank you Boris, finally), I should be able to write more often.
Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, whether it's suggestions, pointing out inaccuracies and mistakes, or comments - positive or negative.