A/N: Wow. I totally forgot about this one. I suppose I got stuck and left it then forgot. Anyway, I went back and reread it and didn't really like it, figured I could to so much better now. x3 Anyway, I've updated this with a totally re-written first chapter! Yay! And I think I may actually work on this more! No promises of a fast update, but I think I might get another chapter up before year's end, LOL. NO PROMISES THOUGH! I'm horribly lazy and have no excuse for my inability to finish anything that I start. x3
Anyway... Revamped the story, and here's a few notes before the disclaimer:
This chapter has only Pokémon in it, so there aren't any distinctions for Pokémon and human speech. In chapters where there are really just humans talking there won't be distinctions, either.
However, there will be chapters where both Pokémon and humans are talking, so there will be distinctions then.
"Text" means that Pokémon are talking.
"Text" means that humans are talking.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. I never have and likely never will (but anything is possible. Yeah, I'll keep dreaming). I am making no profit from this story, I am merely expressing my fandom in words by crafting a fictional tale to entertain myself and others who share in this fandom. But I did create Charia... By splicing sprites! x3
Cages fill the room, lost in the shadows. Deep pools of darkness seem to shift as the light fades and brightens again. The only illumination is a single shaft of moonlight, falling from a small window near the top of the east wall. The beam falls upon a single cage, standing apart from the rest. The locks on the moonlit cage are larger, more secure than those on the other cages. Several papers are clipped to the side of the cage, notes of some sort about the creature within.
Turning around slowly, the white form faces the moonlight, green eyes reflecting the light with a hollow quality. Rustling its wings, the small form moves forwards, pressing its body against the bars of the cage, calling softly to the cage across from it.
"Heracross? Are you awake, Heracross?"
The bug Pokémon in question started, turning fearfully around in the cage it was in to face the white creature. A small cry of fear comes from the blue Pokémon before it begins to shiver. When it speaks its voice breaks with terror. "W-what are you? D-don't hurt m-me!"
No sadness at the fear it caused the Heracross shows in the eyes of the white creature, only resigned acceptance, as though used to this reaction. Its voice is soft and clam when it speaks once more.
"I am Charia, the oldest of the Pokémon in this Lab. Heracross... You are different. Why? Why do you not bear the markings of Change or Creation? What Lab are you from that you look so natural?"
Confusion wars with fear in the bug Pokémon's heart. Several moments of silence pass before confusion wins out and gives way to curiosity.
"W-what? What's a Lab? Change? Creation? What d-do you mean?"
For the first time an emotion registers in Charia's eyes—shock. Silence once more stretches, broken only by the sounds of Pokémon shifting in their cramped cages, futile attempts to find some sort of comfortable position. After what seems an eternity of no response from the white Pokémon, its voice rings out softly in the silence.
"You do not know? Are you… From the Outside? A Wild Pokémon, captured by the Humans? Not Created, and not yet Changed…?"
"Y-yes… The Humans took me from my tree while I was d-drinking the sweet sap…"
Murmurs fill the small room, each filled with shock and amazement. The Heracross shifts uncomfortably at this reaction to his words.
"Um… I-is that… Bad…?" Fear taints the blue bug's speech as he addresses Charia once more.
The Charia tilts its head, thinking.
"Perhaps. The humans will likely Change you, and soon. After you have been Changed, you will be Experimented on, for the sake of Research, whatever that is. You will live out your days here, or die in one of the Experiments. It will be painful and sad. You will never again see the Outside world."
Terror, shock, anger, and sadness fill the Heracross gradually as the Charia speaks. Terror at the idea of dying here, so far from home; shock at the cruelty of the Humans; anger at the fate handed him; sadness at the thought of never returning to his tree, never tasting the sweet sap again.
The Charia continues, ignoring the emotions flitting across Heracross' eyes.
"This is a terrible fate, one that you cannot avoid. You will be Changed, the Humans will see to that. Still, you are better off than the rest of us here. You will have your memories of the Outside to live and die with. We have none of those memories. Each of us was born in a Lab, or Created. I am the oldest of this Pokémon in this Lab. I was the first to be here. I was Created, then given the name Charia. I do not know why I was Created. It is a cruel fate to be Created in this world then Experimented on endlessly.
"Knowing what you now know, will you grant us who were born or Created in this lab one thing, Heracross of the Outside?"
Hesitantly, Heracross gives his reply, pity at the life these Pokémon have lead welling within him.
"If it is in my power to grant, then I will, Charia."
The Pokémon nods, folding its Lugia-like wings and sitting back on the Lugia-like tail attached to the Charmander body.
"Will you tell us… Of the Outside?"
Surprised at the request, Heracross is silent for a moment before he nods.
"I will tell you of the Outside, Charia and Pokémon of the Lab. I will tell you what you cannot know for yourselves."
Huddled forms gathered near the bars of their cages to listen as the Heracross began to tell of the Outside world and all its wonders and splendor.