Chip On My Shoulder
Chapter 3: Chippin' Away!
- The Gastly's -
Eventually, the Gastly grew bored, for they had not the ability, nor ghosts on hand to steal all of the young wyrmling's lifeforce, and all fled upon the dragon starting to stir, not one to tempt fate, for it would not be pleasant to have to deal with an angry dragon type...
- Gible -
Gible awoke, blinking, he felt oddly weary and cold, it was the first time since he arrived that he ever felt even mildly cold, it was disconcerting. He shakily stood, looking around... It was dead of night, though he could see perfectly fine, subterranean dwellers, makes some amount of sense. Though he was baffled as to how he lost his markings. He dug directly down, making a cozy tunnel, it did feel natural, perhaps he could find the stream, and backtrack from there in the morning. As well as experiment with abilities of course! And with himself nicely tucked into the little pocket of earth, the tunnel was covered by some dirt, and so Gible slumbered once more.
- The Morning. -
When Gible heard the chirping of birds, and the rustling above him, did he stir once more, yawning, and promptly coughing some dirt out, he felt fine, could even breathe fine, just the odd human instinct to get rid of dirt seemingly choking you flaring up, he clambered out of his tunnel, feeling a bit more bold;
Gible knew he could instinctively use that draconic breath, and seemingly dig. though that seems more like just digging really really fast. Well, ground typing... Maybe I could try and use a rock move? Gible just dug a hunk of earth from the ground, and threw the small boulder of dirt from his mouth. It flew five feet, before shattering, into dust. It was dirt afterall. He sighed, pondering aloud; "Well, that sucks, hm... Maybe if I try and channel that feeling the dragon energy gave me..? Worth a shot!" And with that idea rooted firmly, did Gible pick another small rock up, and recall that wonderous feeling of strength and giddiness, a faint purple energy lancing along himself, to the rock. In which it promptly detonated like a small bomb, right in his face. Gible screeched, startled, though seemingly unharmed.
He sighed, laying there for a second. Spending the next 30 minutes attempting it, to no avail... Eventually Gible got hungry, as well as thirsty, and wandered, though unlike where he was last time, it was nothing, some Pokémon ran from him, but he must've travelled mile... No river, no running water, but most worryingly, no berries. It was until dusk, that he found a lake, and a large group of slowpoke and a few Slowbro gathered in a lazing horde on the opposite shore. Just gazing, Gible felt an odd pressure in his head, before turning from them, and it ceased. He slaked his thirst with the wonderfully clear water, gazing at a few Magikarp under the water hungrily. The Feebas looked utterly disgusting, wanted no part in it, an oddly unreasonable disgust built, he would not eat those, they were simply too disgusting... Even if he starved!
He fell prey to his own hunger however, and tried to snap a Magikarp too close to the surface, though it dodged, simply swimming swiftly down, splashing water at me, as though taunting. He growled, blowing some of that draconic breath at it, it was too far down, and the water being quite cold turned the dragons' fire to mere steam, and some boiling water, a testament to the heat of the flame. Gible refused to back down, to give up, this was a Magikarp for Arceus' sake, there is no way at all he'd let a Magikarp beat him! He crouched, getting as close to the water as possible, completely still, eventually a Magikarp, foolish it was, swam too close, and instead of biting at it, blew forth a gout of that oh so scalding Dragonbreath, torching the fish, as well as the water there, the rest that followed scrambling. Gible laughed triumphantly, biting the fish as it floated to the surface, tugging it out.
Promptly; was it devoured, bones crunched to dust, the scales simply eaten, such was the voracious dragons' appetite, and well, the even more voracious stomach acids at play. He felt that pressure again, something was glimmering like stardust in the water, feeling an oddly uncharacteristic streak of desire, he /wanted/ to take it, though he held off, the glimmer fading from view. Turning away from it and digging a tunnel here instead, a little ways behind the shoreline, beyond the first few trees. He clearly marked his hideaway by biting a deep gouge into the wood, the teeth marks clearly visible, though the tunnel was hidden betwixt roots and earth, underground as it were.
Gible sighed, there was a beauty to nature, sure. But it was lonely, he knew he probably couldn't go to a city, or any human for that matter, dragons are usually seen as dangerous, or he'd be captured by a trainer, the idea of being subservient to a gaggle of children made his insides turn... No, the only way to fix this was to go to Palkia and Dialga, Sinnoh had many many tales about it, the mighty deities could surely solve this problem. His goal set in mind, he could deal with the lonely nature of this voyage! He was strong, and he knew of course, it'd be temporarily. This body, amazing as it has been to use actual Pokémon moves, was a nuisance. He would surely discard it when he gets Palkia and Dialga's attention. Affirming himself no longer, he was tired, and he would look around for a human town, or maybe a large landmark, hopefully find where he was in Sinnoh. If worst comes to worst, he could let himself get caught, if only to find where to go, and just leave afterward. He hated this idea however, and he slumbered once more, dreams of long travel and being surrounded by friends... Alas, the temporary respite sleep granted had to come to an end. And with it;
- The Morning. -
Gible exited his hole, stretching, though his knubs that are loosely called arms could not stretch too far, though he did manage. He set forth to looking around, the slowpoke and Slowbros seemed to just perpetually laze around on the opposite end, just dipping their tails in the water, which had Magikarp lining up to eat it, and promptly being devoured. Though oddly enough the dozen or so Feebas around just ignored it, and in turn, the lazy creatures ignored them. Odd, though understandable, he just hated them in general, nasty fish... He had a bit of a headache, and just turned away, setting to looking around again, the lake was quite big, it seemed a tributary ran to its northern end, the water lazily flowing to the river, might need to follow that. could be ocean at the end. Beyond his homely tunnel was of course, the forest. Though it did seem thinner near where the Slowbro resided. Mountains loomed beyond the Slowbro and poke, though they were far off, and nothing clearly marked it as special or a landmark. With this done;
Gible started clearly marking trees, just expanding the area that was his 'territory', surely he'd go unbothered by predators, and the river remain unpoached, if they thought a non baby dragon made their home here, using his Dragonbreath to char chunks off of trees, turning it to charcoal instantly, and torching the ground in set intervals, molten magma that was once dirt was all that remained, just little pockets of it around, spread every two hundred or so feet. The housekeeping let him take his mind off of the issues of even needing to do this, though he'd eventually run out of things to distract from such a poor hand he seemed to be dealt. Gible finished, retreating back, he had would move toward the mountain, he could definitely start there, if he manages to find a plateau or small hill near it. He could probably gather where he is after seeing the area.
He returned to his den, expanding it ever so slightly, enough to dig horizontally downward, it is odd that it doesn't collapse, or how his claws seem to reave the soil as though it were simply water, or butter. Though Gible was in no position to complain, or even discern how that was happening. He eventually got to stone, cutting it as easily as the dirt prior. He finally got to where he wanted, cutting down into the stone, carving little rudimentary patterns, swirls, using the Dragonbreath to char the stone, stopping it after immediately, he didnt want slag, just blackened stone, just decorating his den, making it more of a home, he knew he'd need to return if he needed a place to stay or hide.
And it felt nice. To be doing something not out of necessity, but to just make something he wanted. He hadn't been able to do this since he arrived it felt, so much to do and test and learn. After making a nice black fade in the stony floor, and making the swirly gouges more pronounced, he just swept his arm as he stepped up, instantly moving the earth, just stairs, small enough for him. He eventually exited the ground, a little ways away from his tree, and he covered his entrance again, gathering leaves as night started to approach, shadows lengthening as the day grew weary, retreating to bed for the pale moon to take over for the night. He hurried back with his bundle of soft leaves and dry grasses, a bundle as big as he was. He covered his tunnel, and walked down, cutting a circular hole out, very slight though. And put the leaves and grasses inside it, making a rudimentary bed for himself, snuggling into it, he yawned, looking around appreciatively at what he accomplished. A day of work that'd take his human self so much longer... Though it'd never have needed to be worked on were he a human still. With these thoughts bouncing around his head, did he fall into a very comfortable sleep, the best he had since arriving. Morale high, and hope on the horizon. And with it;
- Night fell -