(A/N:)
Mweh...I put an art up a little while ago but then took the link away. There may be a copy posted in my Deviantart account soon for those who haven't seen it. The link to there is in my profile. Otherwise there's a link in my LJ. And that's my 'homepage'.
Phantomness, I thought that you might not like my Lance x Lugia fanfic. All I can do to help is assure you that Lugia, in that fanfic, is NOT Lance's father...
So anyway! On with Finis...
TIP: Whoo, nice rant. Sankyuu.
And yes, Lance is a he-bitch. I love him, yet I hate him. I can't explain why, but that weird hate helps me to write about his ugly side. Tch, there's no point in being a biased writer, especially when there are 5 more personalities to look into.
Darkness: Yes, I'm glad you like Angst. It's lovely, isn't it?
DRD: Yes and...no, you're wrong. Neochampionshipping is SO much better imo. END SARCASM You didn't have to remind me. XD
It curved its wings up into the sky and glided over the curling smoke. Like a mysterious flute of death it cried out its song. It was fake sorrow that drifted into the air on the notes of mourning.
The bird had the capabilities of giving the lives back that had been taken. From now on it had decided to leave its gift as the phoenix vestigial, for the loyalties to the rest of its race unearthed selfishness in the legendary. This selfishness caused the pokémon to turn away from the mangled corpse of the human race and continue on.
This thought made the bird shudder right up to the tips of its glistening flight feathers. It was reminded by this of something that was expected to perish away. Yet some aspects of this value had failed to...
Far below the hazy sky, two figures lay spread-eagled across the soil and rubble. One of them moved his hand slowly to his face; even though the lopsided, cracked mask still concealed the young man's distraught feature.
Will peered though his fingers, squinting into the sudden sunlight that was blasted into his pale eyes. A few dregs of dull smoke floated like grim clouds across his line of sight. He rolled over onto the palms of his hands and pushed himself into a kneeling position with some difficulty then exhaled the stale breath that remained in his lungs.
Just as the still living organs inside him contracted, the psychic realised that what he had just expelled from his body could have been the last thing he held from the past world. He had collapsed just a few hours before, and woken to find that some kind of extinction, an apocalypse, an act of genocide had taken place. He had known it would happen, but what stood – or lay as is may be – before him now was an alien world. She had started all over again, the one who had caused this...
We were all just another stage in the continuance of living beings, but we thought we could last forever...she got sick of us...
Will pulled himself unsteadily to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye he subconsciously and insensitively acknowledged Kamon, who was lying around a foot away.
What was her purpose of leaving us to watch it all?
A swooping shadow passed over and curved, its owner having discovering its target. It lowered itself towards them, the Elites that were fated to survive.
Further across the tattered globe, another two fated lives clung on. One of the bearers stirred slightly, in regaining consciousness he had become aware of the ugly ground that was damaging his back. He pushed the invading strands of tangled hair out of his eyes and opened them slowly.
There was black everywhere.
Perhaps...this is a cave? The Cave of Origin...the cave with an undying aura of life or...perhaps this is death?
Wallace unfolded his tense arms and ran his fingers across the dusty floor aimlessly, clutching at handfuls of dirt and rocky fragments. Now in this state of blindness and desperation, the once pristine young man had become oblivious to the fact that he was getting dirt under his fingernails or that his white shirt was completely soiled and would never come completely clean...
Reaching around on the ground behind where he was lying, Wallace's hand came across an object. It was cold to the touch, but as he picked it up he discovered it to be a ring, crafted out of...metal.
"Steven?" The voice sounded contained, as if crying out into a small space. This was followed by a shuffling sound as another being moved. "Steven?" Wallace dropped the ring in his hurry and scrambled around again, hitting something else. Steven caught his wrist and held on tight in the darkness, as if expecting the nonexistent surroundings to be carried away.
All that was audible for the minutes that followed were the shallow breaths of the two within the confined area.
"Steven...it's almost like," Wallace paused momentarily, swallowing hard, "I don't know...a coffin..."
"Wallace, stop it..." his boyfriend warned and gripped the hand tighter. He couldn't believe Wallace was still frightening him like this. It was unintentional, he knew and...this was just what Wallace did. He was the image of the beauty and elegance, he defined it. But underneath all that, something was there that could be unearthed when he knew that they were in a helpless situation: something he should forever keep concealed.
He just...gives in to that helplessness...he tries to accept that it's the...the...but...that's what I have to do, I have to show him that it's not...
"Wallace, remember what we promised each other when we accepted the role of being Elites..."
"That we'd try to escape from that role. That way we'd live." Wallace attempted.
"We told ourselves that we would help each other out..." Steven continued, still as adamantly, "we would be together all the way through...that...I promised I would protect you Wallace, because I just...dragged you in."
"And we'd live together, get married, then adopt..." Wallace mumbled on in his own conversation.
"I said that I would always reassure you, and promise you that we would get through it all..."
"...Little girls. And I would put them in blue dresses and braid their hair for hours."
Wallace, stop it.
Steven rubbed his temples and tried to ignore the words. It's so easy to look on the shadowed side of things. But why does he remember something that will now never be? Why does he remember something that has dropped into the abyss? Why does he remember something that will only make us cry?
But...why should I be scared to be reminded? It's true after all: We did promise all that...but I don't want to know any more. It's because I don't want the pain. It's because I can't take our own memories. It's because...there should be no reason. It's because I don't want to live in this world of harsh memories and cursed life.
"Steven, where are we?"
"We're..."
"Where are we?"
"I don't..."
"You don't know." Wallace said.
"I don't understand..."
Will allowed the blast of air that whistled past the bird he was sitting on to ruffle his hair. Whilst the legendary pokémon carried him over the destructed regions, he gazed down upon them to analyze the incredible event. This action was carried out with a certain degree of sadness in his thoughts and emotions. The psychic's eyes fluttered closed so that he could consult the sight he had absorbed in greater depth.
It's...catastrophic. I can't deny that. This was approaching. We all knew, but we were all ignorant. Ignorance was in the way we tried to discard the truth. Lance was right there. Knowledge was in the...circle of Elites, just the six of us. Why did we know? Why did we stay? Why were we chosen to be some kind of treasure, historical document even, locked away in an inhumane fashion to be part of Humanity's treasure?
Was the entire world against us? Afraid of us? Who hated us – Mother Earth? Are we merely victims, weakness, rather than the strength that fits our title...Elites?
You think deeply.
Will opened his eyes at this comment exterior to his own mind. Ho-oh continued to concentrate on its flight, curving around to face over the dull ocean that stretched away from the smouldering remains of Pallet and Viridian.
Ho-oh; my apologies...
I was merely intrigued by your wonderings. Please do not apologize. Being sibling to Lugia gives me a hint of its own psychic power, and it the limited ability to wield flame.
I was just wondering about...reasons for the Earth's actions...
None of us fully understand. True, she empathises with the race that connects with her and respects her the most, but no pokémon seemed to ask for her actions to occur. However, they agreed and abided by her decisions. If there is a rationally thinking mind that resides inside the mother...there is no fully understandable reason for this destruction.
So...do the legendaries consider this to be a wise choice? Will interrogated further, as politely as he could. He continued to watch the ripple of the remarkably calm ocean far below, admiring the sudden peace of the world as far as his considerably emotionless mind would carry such a thought.
Again, there is no confirmation. Why not? If a mind exists in the Earth, there is no necessity of a heart, is there? She does not feel the pain of the children. She is harsh. She is evil. Though nothing is wrong in those two qualities, it could have been her grave mistake to act with them. There is evidence of a similar problem that your race suffered within pokémon now. Heartlessness...lack of observation...impulse...dare I say, selfishness...
The bird's feathers shuddered again from the tremble within its body. Ho-oh soared away from the yawning waters and stroked the breeze with its wings again just as the land began to roll out beneath them again like a carpet of horrors.
There may be a mistake...made by even this powerful entity? But, everyone and everything makes mistakes.
It was possible and it was deadly to the Mother herself. The workings of life – though unintentional – were so unforgiving. Nothing can really control life, not even its own mother.
Kamon sat on the other side of the bird's back, also 'admiring' the terrifying view. He couldn't even tell whether he had accepted the actions of the Mother Earth because of the overwhelming concept of the entire event. Similar questions as Will's were tossing and turning in his brain.
Little bitch... the red-haired teenager cursed. He curled himself up tight and clenched his muscles at the biting wind that slapped him, why am I being dragged along into all of your crap? Anyone's? He watched a swirling storm of ash over Mount Chimney, settling like a blanket to bury the area...
...Just like he experienced the cube around his life closing in, engulfing him.
Ho-oh swooped down lower, clipping the charred peak of Fortree and touching down in the clear, and again, strangely peaceful area beyond. Wind whispered playfully through the otherwise undisturbed grass in the innocence of nature. Kamon cautiously climbed down off the legendary's back, respectable even in his sulky state. Will teleported suddenly in a glow of purple and instantly stood in the tall grass.
It was then noticeable that they were in the centre of a large circle that consisted of legendary pokémon. Most of them bowed their heads towards Ho-oh's presence. Lugia's thoughtful gaze stared blankly ahead in a concerned but accomplished manner. Yes, it seemed that everything intended had been completed. Their race was safe and the pain had been caused. But there was a continuance of transformation that the Beast of the Sea did not like...
It was reminded of something that was expected to perish away...
William...Kamon... Lugia spoke, pushing the thoughts away. This was cowardice, to make its abilities vestigial and be afraid to view the problem that troubled the world in the future.
The two Elites looked around and bowed.
There are many unanswered questions about the recent actions taken. You are your race's purity and its last representatives, its last hopes. Your perseverance is required to find solutions and try to see what this problem; this loose stitching is in the remaining life on this poor planet.
Lugia then looked up from the human faces only for its attention to be drawn towards the east. A cloud loomed over the monstrosity of a mountain that remained there, releasing a few fierce streaks of lightning. Mount Pyre was a resting place for spirits, especially one large spirit that consisted of its collective memorabilia, including the intention of an inhumane action of storing away humanity's last purity.
We know that our Dragon Master is still with us.
(A/N:) It's 1:29 a.m. on the 29th of September. And I've FINALLY completed the seventh chapter of Finis. Phew.
Canta per me was the title of the track I was listening to when I began this chapter. That was, like, ages back. XD But it does have some significance to the chapter. Well, if you're a lingo nut you can probably guess. Yes, it is 'He.She.It sings for me' in Italian. Well, Ho-oh singing for the world...
And I think an MSN conversation saved me during that bit with Wallace and Steven. Those ideas came from TIP when we were randomly talking. Tried not to make it seem soppy. Instead it was just Wallace angsting over what a good mum he could have been whilst ignoring Steven's words. Poor Wallace. T-T
Built Will and Kamon's characters up a little more now. Will is kind of emotionless and mysterious, but he's courageous. However, like all psychics in this fic he's scared to peek at the future. Also Kamon's angsting over himself. He's still just a stroppy, rebellious teenager as a priority even within the extreme changes. Stupid boy.
Well, hope there's another chapter soon, folks. I like reviews, believe it or not. Please.
Lance and Red take over the next chapter, yay.