The sun slowly ascended above the boundless sea, bathing the entire island in its flowery-prosed light. Twenty people, each within their own room (some of which they barely even recognized) woke up and stared out the window at the almost blood-streaked sky. And all of them, no matter their mindset, had woken up with only one single thought crossing their mind, repeating itself in their heads like a really cheap CD player the likes of which were last seen by someone remotely interesting in about 2001.
It was not how pretty the sunset was today, or where their hair dye went off to ('cuz they really needed it; silver-blue-white is a hard color to maintain in your hair), or how painfully stupid Naruto was and how fun it was to throw things at a big stone bust of him. There was only one thought, one measly scrap of knowledge, which echoed through every single human mind in the giant manor.
I'm leaving.
I'm leaving.
I'm leaving.
As the residents of the castle stirred, this thought still swirling around in their minds, the morning rituals (getting dressed, eating breakfast, downing an entire can of Coca-Cola in under a minute, etc.) seemed to pass them all by in a strange haze that nobody could recall. Speaking of hazes, there was a mist floating above the island that seemed to be descending slowly…
Finally, the clock chimed eleven. Everyone nearly screamed with happiness (and some actually did); there was only an hour to go until they left this Arceus-forsaken place! After the initial jubilation, however, five of the residents felt a very unpleasant sensation in the pit of their stomachs, one that they never expected in their wildest dreams (which, of course, have a strange tendency to come true) to affiliate with getting their sorry tails out of the Castle.
Sadness.
Somehow, in some unknown switch-flickery while they were on the Island, five people did not want it to end.
Cynthia, Wallace, Gary, Lance, and Steven were faced with a very difficult predicament. They had greatly enjoyed the little pranks and tricks that always made the Elites find themselves in strange situations. Sure, they could do it all over again next year. Sure, they could always come back when that time of the year came and dish out a new batch of insanity for the Elites to deal with OR ELSE.
But the real problem was simple: how would they survive that long?
As strange as it seemed, the five Champions kind of liked the things that went on within these totally stampeded, exploded, Explosive-Lancetastic-Children's-Trading-Card-Game-bombarded, blowtorched, mud-splattered, angry-old-lady-shredded, and basically abused grounds. And now they had to leave this insanity to go back to standing in a room with blinking lights all day, with the only events being some dude with a Level 100 Shiny Mewtwo team beat them and then require them to pretend they were happy about it? Yeah, right.
As strange as it seemed, that was the way that life worked.
Finally, the boat arrived. As the small group of people boarded the boat, some running for it like the island was going to explode and others trudging along at a sluggish pace, some of them glanced backwards on the grand castle they had all came to loathe/love. They all had their positions where they passed the time while on the boat. These positions ranged from leaning on the back deck (Lance) to sleeping in the cabin (Sidney) to sending their breakfast overboard (Bruno).
Some people were in rather strange positions: Flint was sitting in the cabin, doing an exptremely long and very un-awesome math test with 150 problems. ONE. HUNDRED. AND. FIFTY. PROBLEMS. Bruno and Drake were both dangling action figures over the seriously ticked (and considerably shorter) heads of Aaron and Gary, who had recently gotten their action figures stolen by a mysterious force.
A mysterious force meaning, of course, ShadowPunk435 had requested it and Wallace and Cynthia delivered.
Will ditched his usual location of leaning on the outer wall of the cabin in favor of leaning over the back edge of the boat, where he found himself next to Spontaneous Becapified Red-Not-Pink Xtreme Anime Hairspikes Man.
That's Lance for those of you who speak English.
So anyway, Will and Lance were both leaning over the back edge of the boat, staring at the island and the grand castle upon it.
"A whole lot happened this season, huh?" Lance asked, in an attempt to make small talk with the strange man. He was projected as a headstrong man who really liked to get himself stronger; this was half of the answer. When presented with being trapped in a castle with a bunch of other Trainers, however, Will became strangely antisocial. Arceus knows why.
"Hmm," was the only reply that Lance could get out of Will.
After a few more repeated attempts at discussion, all met with the same quick and painful (to Lance) demise, Will's slumped figure straightened up as his one visible eye squinted in concentration.
"Hey, Lance." He nudged the Champion in the ribcage, glancing over to him.
"Yeah?" the man replied, overjoyed that Will was actually talking to him now.
"Is it just me, or is there a person standing on that island?" Will pointed one white-gloved hand back to the dock. There was a shadow that looked kind of like a man there…
"Oh yeah." Lance frowned slightly and leaned farther forward over the boat's edge. "What's he doing there?"
"I think he's… laughing." Will looked and sounded extremely surprised (a rare occurrence), and Lance quickly acquired the same expression on his face.
"It kinda does!" he exclaimed. "Wonder who he is, though?"
Will shrugged. The next moment, the cloudy mist that had been looming above them for all of an hour finally dropped and they could see no more of the island that had brought them so many mixed emotions.
The formally-dressed man with the purple hair quickly resumed his spot leaning against the outer wall of the cabin. Lance didn't try to stop him. His mind was still on the man on the island… who was he? And what was he doing on such a mystifying place as the Docks of Shame?
There was, in fact, a man on the island. He looked down at himself, almost in disgust of his appearance; but the black mask around his eyes made it kind of hard to read his expression.
Well, at least until the eyes under his mask glowed red. That should have helped a little.
"I always hate having to be a boy," the figure whined in a feminine voice. "It's so strange."
Sighing, the man was whisked into the air and was replaced by a rather imposing gray dragon-creature with black wings and a golden headpiece.
Hey, I didn't feel like describing myself again. I already did that to great length in Metal Coat.
"Bye, you guys!" I smiled, waving a wing at the spot where the boat had disappeared. After realizing that the boat had, indeed, disappeared, I lowered my wing and gave another murmur in my feminine voice.
"See you next year – assuming Darkrai and Mesprit don't blow up the place." I, Giratina, official narrator (and sometimes author) of the goings-on in the Pokemon world lately, was actually standing out of sight of the actual characters and waving goodbye to them. I honestly couldn't believe myself.
I then flapped into the air and roared loudly: "COME ON, YOU GUYS! THEY'RE GONE!"
At once, a host of teenage children began to climb and poof out of… well…everywhere. A kid with floppy green hair and a weird green dress simply conjured herself from thin air, and walked over to meet me. I dropped to the ground, now in my human female form, and greeted her.
"Hi, Rayquaza!" I chirped. "How's it going?"
"I'm okay," the girl laughed.
Another boy, this one about fifteen, climbed straight out of the ocean. He wore a blue hoodies with red decals swirling all over, and his hair was seaweed green.
"Kyogre!" I waved.
"Giratina!" He waved back, laughing my name.
As I watched this host of Legendary gijinkas come to life enter the castle from every manner possible; the ocean, the sky, a spontaneous plume of fire, a dark rip from another dimension, walking down the dock from thin air, I smiled visibly.
My other friends were here, and we were going to play. After everyone had entered the Castle, I followed and shut the door.
These Gijinka forms Legendaries had were so useful sometimes, and the felt so amazingly good to be in our human skins; I mean, we all used to be people ourselves…
ELITE FAIL; END.
Anyone who read Metal Coat would know exactly what I'm getting at here with the Giratina; in case you didn't, I am a Legendary Pokemon chosen to chronicle some stories of the Pokemon universe into fanfics and present them to the general fandom, with them being completely unaware that these things actually exi-
Wait.
Well, anyway, I hope you enjoyed Castle of Comic Torture: Elite Fail.
Come back in nine months.
Also, happy Platinum Day for those of you who live in America!
x Giratina