Author Notes: I'm back again. Sorry for the time it took for me to post this, but I got lazy with the final revising… very lazy. The chapter was done 2 weeks ago, but I started revising it yesterday. I know, you can throw me rocks, I deserve it. And worse, there won't be a new chapter next Friday, because I'm really on vacation, and probably not the following Friday either, because chapter 5 is not written. You will have to be patient. Vacation happens only once a year during 2 weeks, and I deserve them. I promise to return with a good chapter, I hope. Now, time for the review response for the fourth time:
Foxyjosh: I sure do put some thought into this. I enjoy doing that. Maybe there is too much thought, and if there is, I'm sorry about that. I just love to talk. About the Vulpix thing, I don't think Rick will run into one in this chapter, but he will meet something as much disturbing. I'm not forgetting about the idea thought. Maybe the foxy predator won't be a Vulpix (Or the much powerful Ninetales), but I promise an encounter with a foxy pokemon eventually.
Kirby: Here's the next chapter to repair your poor broken heart. I will ignore that strange part of your review saying strange, illogical things, and reply with "Riiiight…". And, thanks again for the chapter name, it has been really useful. Here, take this apple!
StormFang: Oh… you are not the first this time. You are deceiving me. You are not a worthy reviewer anymore. Go away! (Sparktail hits me with a frying pan) Uh… it was a joke, of course. Who care if your review is first, or third or 43th? Actually, I would prefer if it was 43th, because it would mean there was 42 others reviews before your's. I can always dream (sighs). Anyway, thanks for the review.
Twilight The Umbreon: An umbreon? Kagai The Umbreon says hi! Joke aside, it's good to see another reviewer join the fun. Thanks for saying that it is extremely well done, and even a bigger thank for the fav! It filled my heart with joy, and blood too, but that's kind of normal, it's a heart. I will enjoy writing the next chapters too… especially the next one (#5), if I can fix my mind of one of the many exciting ideas I have in that crazy head of mine.
MTG: Oh… sorry… I have nothing to say. It happens sometime. I blame the fact that I replied to four others people before. Oh well… I will say my generic speech: Thanks, "Insert reviewer name here", for reviewing chapter "Insert chapter's number here". I appreciate it a lot, and I hope you will enjoy/hate as much reading the next one.
F.D.: YAY!!! It's the oh so awesome F.D.!!! I would review your reviews as much I did with the other ones, but it would take a chapter all by itself. So… I will simply say here I enjoyed reading them as much I do reading your story. They were instructing, and I used some of those tips while revising this chapter. Thanks for them. When I will have some time, I will do a longer reply, and send it to you or anyone interested in those responses. And you should be, they sometime contain hints about the future.
Well the replies are done, so story time, and see you all again Friday in 2-3 weeks (Hope for two)
Chapter 4 : Instinctive Clash
Silence. Darkness. Loneliness. None of those words could fully explain how Rick was feeling right now. Together, they would represent something similar to it, but it still wasn't even scratching the surface of Rick's true emotions. Despite what you could guess, those feelings weren't birthed from the torrent of negative ideas about his transformation. Neither they were because he was forcefully kept away from his family and friends by the jealous hands of fate. No… He could deal with that. For those, he would do what he did all his life: adapt to the situation and get the most out of it. Or so he hoped. Never in his young live had he faced something so disastrous. That time where he cried in front of all his friends at school, years ago, looked like a walk in the park compared to this now. He only lived a few minutes in this foreign body, but those were the most confusing ones he ever lived. He hated every single second he spent in that form. Well… maybe he could exclude the ones he spent eating that apple, those felt good. And when Bill petted him, those were also great. Oh… and how he could forget how proud he felt when he finally sat for the first time! Those are unforgettable moments… too unforgettable. Sighting, the young man shiftily removed those thoughts from his mind. They are only the disillusions of his troubled mind and of those annoying instincts, created only to get him away from his real goal: turning back human. He hates those thoughts too. Yet, all this hate and discomfort was still the least of his worries. His mind could torture him as much it wanted, his body could want to thirst some unimportant needs, it would still be nothing compared to the hate he now had toward Bill. Thinking of that man made him want to shock everything around him in a display of pure rage, would he actually be able to feel his electrical pockets crackling with electricity. The man did the only thing Rick hoped he wouldn't do, and yet knew was coming: he trapped him in one of those devices of hell known as pokeball!
Thought he saw no reason for him to do something to low, Bill didn't quite think the same. Apparently, according to him, it was now safer to travel as a cloud of energy stored in a small sphere than out there, in the real world, sitting next to Bill. Screaming "I don't want to go in there" didn't have as much impact as before. Neither did " that ball!". Taking into consideration that none of the words said could be understood, it wasn't that much of a surprise. But this bad excuse for a scientific could have at least noticed how he stared at him with a deadly glare when he innocently mentioned the name of his current jail cell. Despite that, and the fact he tried to run for his dear life in a desperate shot at keeping his liberty, he wasn't able prevent the crimson ray of pure energy from touching him. Before he could understand what was happening, all life energy had drifted away from him, dissolving as the ray scanned his molecular structure and initiated the process that turned every particle of his tiny body into the immaterial form of energy, swallowed inside the mirror compartment inside the ball. And now, some unknown time later, Rick could only stare at the infinite void all around him, even if he knew it to be only a fragment of his imagination. More than boring, it was insulting.
Yet… he had only one thing to do to feel better. It was as simple as breathing after holding your respiration, except the air he would breathes was a lethal poison that would take him away. He only had to free his mind, and the pokeball would help him to create almost everything he wanted. Inside this virtual environment, his every dream could come true, his wildest fantasy become as real as the boring reality that made them in the first place. But he wouldn't breathe that foul air. For the pokeball might be presenting him a vision of paradise, but that dreamland was made with the only purpose of trapping the conscious of the pokemon under the heavy weight of its own aspirations and desires. It was offering them paradise… at the cost of their own will. It was the very basic principle of the pokeball: makes the pokemon forget about wild life by giving it an insight of it every time it would go in it. No wonder the pokemon were so cheerful after their first visit into one. They could have left a full family behind them, they could have been a mother leaving crying babies doomed to suffer their last hours wondering why their mother abandoned them as the predators kill them one by one, but it wouldn't matter to the pokemon as soon they get in the ball, if they accepted a vision of the life they left as being part of reality. This was no better than brainwashing and the poor pokemon would never be aware of this, for they are unable to distinguish the dream from reality. Only the wisest could comprehend how fake this was, and those privileged few hated the round device for what it truly was: a drug.
Rick has always been one of those few to despite the pokeball, thought he has his owns reasons. He had nothing against the technology itself; how could one hate such brilliant display of human knowledge cramped in a space so small? He had nothing against its purpose either. The pokeball could be useful, when used properly. In good hands, it could help both human and pokemon, like it was long ago, in the far away times of its creation. In those times, pokemon training wasn't something everyone could achieve; even the word "pokemon" or the concept of training weren't invented yet. Only some people, maybe one in a thousand, were able to tame the monsters and were hold in high esteem. Their skill to tame the beasts was useful when one of them was ravaging a nearby village. But, alas, the rarity of those gifted individuals implied they weren't always there to save a village or city when it needed help. In most cases, the police had no choice but to use firearm to kill or badly injure the pokemon in order to stop the threat. It was a common tactic, but most of the scientific community agreed on the need of a non-lethal weapon for the police to use. After decades of research, Silph Co., a major weapon producer, came up with the first model of pokeball. It was acclaimed as the discovery of the century and quickly became widely used by police forces. Pokemon were captured, brought back into their natural habitat, and nobody was hurt. If only it could have stayed that way, things would have been so much better, but it wasn't what history had in store for the pokemon. In the following months of its release, the pokeball sales quickly fell, as well as the sales of most conventional weapons, as the people using it understood that the captured monsters became attached to them after capture and, thus, were ready to help them. Soon, those pokemon became the main weapon of the police force, some policeman sometime having many of them, removing the need for firearms. As the whole weaponry industry was coming to a downfall, one man came in with a brilliant idea that saved it: If the police could use the ball so easily, why not everyone? Thank to a massive advertising campaign, the "pokemon" were born, now to be owned by anyone able to spend a few bucks on a pokeball, and with it came the dumb habit of leaving them to rot in their ball when unneeded.
This last point was what angered Rick to near obsession. Why leave hundreds of pokemon you don't use in those balls when you could release them. More concerning, why keep them in their ball when you traveled on the road? They had only a maximum of six pokemon of them, not fifty, and they would probably enjoy breathing the fresh air of the real world more than the virtual universe of the pokeball. Rick knew the simple and sickening answer: people cared for more themselves than for their pokemon. Why spend money on food when they don't need it in their ball? Why spend time playing with them when the pokeball would give them that? Those people didn't have the right to own pokemon, and certainly wouldn't have century ago. What had been a gift was now something took for granted, like having electricity powering houses. People will never understand how lucky they are until they would lose it. This was how humanity thought.
Rick sighed (mentally, at least). Why does this matter to him anyway? He was now one of those pokemon, in no position to change the way the world works. Ironically, he was nothing more than another prisoner of the balls he hated and it would still torture him until he accepted it. He might as well do that... if he kept in mind that nothing was real, the ball couldn't hurt him, right?
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In the palm of Bill's hand, the tilting red and white object stopped moving, red light shutting down, relieving some of the man's worries. It nearly looked like Rick wouldn't let himself be captured, but he finally did. To be sincere, Bill wasn't pleased with this "capture" either, but it was needed. Traveling with an unregistered pokemon was out of the question, since nothing could prevent another trainer from throwing its own pokeball at Rick and capturing him, even if highly unlikely. He wouldn't have wanted to have him in a cage either, as he would have felt too guilty. Ultimately, the pokeball was the best compromise: he would be safe while having a place he where could enjoy himself. Placing the pokeball under his belt, Bill prepared his mind for one strange discussion with his friend Samuel. The reputed professor wouldn't take the matter lightly, with his implication in the project. It would be one mental brawl.
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Rick's spirit was still wandering aimlessly in a black void, but it wouldn't stay like this for long. As soon he had decided to let the ball do its job, a world begged to be created, to show its color, to become reality. Colors and forms emerged from the void, their sudden brightness blinding Rick, wherever his eyes where. They still didn't produce anything tangible thought, a reflection of the confusion that reigned over his mind. What did he want to see? His house? No... it would only sadden him further and gives him false hopes. His school? No... it would remind him how he landed in this situation. Ideas like those would lead him nowhere. And why would embarrass himself with things he would get back eventually? Still confused, another idea came to his mind. Instead of wishing for something he knew, why not take the opportunity to discover something new? He was a pikachu, right? Why not discover their home?
The change in color suddenly stopped, stabilizing in tones of green and brown. The bland forms deepened, turning into basic place surfaces, cylinders, cubes... which morphed again. Like a sculptor making his statues, the cylinders were crafted by invisible hands, their pick pressing against them, forming holes and depression on its surface, the bark of trees shaped while number color artists gave them their beauty with their numbered palette of a thousand brown, showing every subtlety those trees could offer. The plane surface standing below Rick was torn, folded and punctured, becoming dirt, tree trunks, pokemon burrows, leaves, grass; every features of a forest represented in its integrality, free of any flaw. The man couldn't keep his eyes away from this beauty, and it was attracting him, not only mentally. While the ground was reeling him in, he felt his spirit being constrained to something he couldn't define yet, but was plainly obvious. As this space was gaining an identity, he was gaining one too. Once again, he could feel his paws, his muzzle and his dull claws. The forest opened herself to him, giving away many scents and sensations, some friendly, some scaring. To Rick's dismay, the woods gradually lost its colors and its clarity as he gained his body back, the sudden dullness of the place reminding him how poor a vision the pikachu have. This didn't save him from seeing the ground approaches at a furious pace, his body slamming into it, literally bringing him down to earth.
Surprisingly, he wasn't hurt from the fall. Even if he was apparently crashing into the dirt, he landed on his four paws, his body unharmed, ready to explore this forest, which he did without any second thought. In the real world, it would have been difficult for him to put one paw in front of the other without slipping, but here... his body was doing the job. Feeling his paws propelling his body deep inside the vast and unknown forest, Rick calmed himself and enjoyed the trip. Flowing between endless trees, he avoided everything in his path with a surprising agility. A rock? He could run around it. A tree trunk? He could jumps on it, checks if the road was clear before jumping down and run again. A puddle of water? He could stop nearly instantaneously, and drink a bit of it while he was as it. There was no word to explain how good he felt. He was free, an unstoppable bullet that could do everything he wanted. There was no boss no tell him what to do, no teacher giving him homework. His mother couldn't call him to ask him if he was ok and there no need to reply to her that she shouldn't worry until she saw him in the deceased people pages of the newspaper and then support her annoying lesson about being polite. It was like being at a party, a moment where only pleasure mattered. That's said, until the party crasher came, and, unfortunately for Rick, his next jump net him a meeting with him, as he collided into another furry body in a sharp turn around a tree.
Even the best intentions couldn't stop the inertia from doing its job. The other beast, immobile moment before, was slammed into the nearest tree, yelling from surprise and pain. From his side of the collision, Rick was stopped on the spot and pushed backward on his back, his paws clumsily swimming in the air. The other beast, apparently more experienced than him, recovered quickly and put one paw on Rick's belly, a dark smile on his yellow pikachu face. "Having fun, Sparktail?" he said, arrogantly pressuring the word "fun".
Rick's eyes narrowed at the sight of the familiar rodent. His paws moved furiously, clawing at this annoyance, but the other rat avoided them. His cheeks sparked, sending weak bolts on him, but the ingenious rodent had his own tail firmly dug into the ground, deflecting most of the electrons through it. He was trapped, and the other rodent knew it. He trashed some more, but the powerful beast wasn't intending on freeing him. Instead, he returned the deadly glare Rick was doing to him. "Are you finished now? Stop attacking me and I will let you go."
This rodent was dumb if he assumed Rick wouldn't try pouncing on him once he freed him. Rick smiled inwardly at this idiotic assumption. "Fine. Let me go now." The other pikachu agreed, slowly removing his paw from Rick's belly. Rick was about to roll on his side and hit the rat with his tail, when the paw returned, with even more pressure, just as he was leaning on his side. The rodent snickered, Rick narrowing his eyes again. "You think I would fall for a trick like that? You only want to pounce me back. You know, I could press harder..." he stated, his paw crushing Rick' abdomen, its abnormally sharp claws piercing through it. "...and cut the air of out of your body. I could then use my claws to cut your throat and watch you suffer in pain. And do you know what is the most wonderful in all this?" he asked coldly, Rick slightly shaking his head, his face paling. "I could do that over and over again... until we are free of this pokeball. Now..." he muttered, removing some pressure from his paw. "...will stop attacking me?"
The dominated pikachu whimpered, his eyes pleading to be released, tears forming in them. There was only instinct in that reaction, only the sheer fear of the other pikachu, the alpha male. How could one creature be so evil and where did it come from? He looked like your common pikachu, if you ignored abnormal characteristics like sharp claws, but inside him was planted the seed of evil, growing inside him, turning him into a monster who just threatened to kill him for fun and take pleasure from it. As he felt the pressure removed from his belly, Rick crawled on his back, as far he could from the beast, until a tree stopped him. Using its rough surface as a support, he gained a bipedal position, his back stuck on the tree, never leaving the pikachu out of his sight. The said pikachu simply laughed unemotionally at this instinctive display of fear. "Sparktail... you are truly pathetic. You will never do anything good with your life if you can't fight your fears. You hate me, right? You fear me? You wish I was away from here? Sorry, but you won't get rid of me so easily. Far from it..."
This name again: Sparktail. Rick face turned from fear to confusion from hearing it, then to anger. How dare he? Ignoring his fears, he returned on four paws and approached the evil pikachu menacingly, who didn't even move a hair as Rick stuck his muzzle mere millimeters away from his. "Will you stop calling me Sparktail? I have a name and it's RICK TORTOAS! And yes, I fear you! You are confusing! Who are you? Why are you taunting me? Don't you think my life is complicated enough like this without some hallucination making it even worse? Why don't you annoy someone else, like Bill? He deserved it for putting me into this ball." he screamed at the top of his lung, shutting off every noise the forest offered.
The same forest, in the following few seconds, saw two rivals staring at each other, in complete silence, to the point one would wonder if they were still alive. They still were, waiting for the other to make a move. A blow of foul breath on Rick's muzzle broke it, the other pikachu smirking at him as he did so. "You sure love to ask yourself questions. Why I'm giving you the name of a dead pikachu? Who I am? Why Bill did something so evil? Why is the sun yellow? Why are you annoying everyone with useless questions that doesn't require an answer? If you used your brain just a tiny bit more, you would find the answer to those. Until you do, I will continue to call you Sparktail, I will still annoy you here. And I will do that until you understand by yourself that you shouldn't follow blindly the looks of things. If someone shows you a picture of a beach, would you think you are on a beach? Of course not. If I told you that the pokeball is a magical device that captures pokemon, you would show me the blueprints of it and explain to me exactly how it works. Now, you have another puzzle in front of you: yourself. What a wonderful one to solve! I hope you have fun with it. And that you will solve it soon... or else..." he finished openly. Laughing softly, he turned back from Rick and slowly made his way far from him, his body vanishing into the green vastness around them, as a ghost disappearing through a wall.
Rick blinked, the unusual leaving way for the pikachu giving a strange feeling of "This is not normal" to his mind. If it was not for those vague words freezing him, he would probably have tried to touch him again to see if he was real. While he didn't answer any of his questions, he indirectly solved another one: something was wrong with him. But what?
"Or else?" Rick screamed. "Or else what? What?" The other pikachu stopped, his head facing him as the forest took him away. "You will find out soon enough. Enjoy acting like a dumb animal." On those words, he was gone, leaving Rick to stare blankly at the spot where he stood before, his dark presence still haunting him. He would sure add this rodent on the list of things he hated. He despised his arrogant attitude, he hated his ability to counter everything he said, he absolutely scorned the way he annoyed and tortured him. But what he hated the most was how this pikachu reminded him of… him. He did tend to act like this when he was angry. Was that pikachu some kind of dark side? If so, he wouldn't turn out like this... no... He would fight with all he got... but he wouldn't be evil... neither would he act like an animal. What he just did, running in those virtual woods, enjoying himself in the simple pleasures of the pikachu life, he would have to resist doing that. Or at least try. It was not a human way to act. It was wrong. But how long would he be able to face the overcoming wave of instincts? That pikachu was right... he would find out soon.
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And he might sooner than he may think. While his universe inside the ball was an ever changing place, free of the time constraints of the real world, his pokeball was still a real object. A device now resting on the middle of Professor Oak's kitchen table, two pairs of eyes staring at it. After a long silence, Samuel, his hands resting near the ball, broke the ice with an unusual low voice. "So... if I understand what you told me. This... pokeball... contains a pikachu, which is proved by the ball's data. And... this... pikachu... is Rick Tortoas. And all of this happened because he entered your machine, which was not deactivated, and changed himself into a pikachu by what is presumed to be a mistake." he said matter-of-factly, while he scribbled some notes on a notepad. "You know Bill... you are my friend since I became your professor in your young years, and I always believed you to be the most promising student to ever grace my classroom. And you did great things. But this was before Rick came into my course. You knew how much faith I placed in him and yet, you didn't take every safety measure to ensure he would be fine. And now... that brilliant student is inside this pokeball... and you come here, nonchalantly, and hope I will forgive you that easily?"
Bill gulped. He knew Oak wouldn't be happy about this, but he was visibly enraged, through he was hiding it well, a talent he got with all those years doing those pokemon science shows on radio and television. The younger scientist was a bit worried about the ways his friend could use to make him pay. Despite Oak not being the style to seek out revenge, Bill was aware that he did cross some forbidden limits. Samuel wasn't a man to make use of violence, but he didn't need it to be a threat; he had power in both scientific and political spheres, and he knew how to make use of that power when he needed to. He was a good man, a good living, who was not easily angered, but when he was... "No, Samuel. You know me. I'm ready to pay for my mistakes, like always."
The professor seemed to be thinking while he tilted the ball with his hand. The tension rose in the room, its veil like a heat wave, making Bill sweat nervously. Tightening his grip on the ball, the old man finally spoke. "Good... because I'm ready to forgive you, since Rick is alright, or will be as soon I determine how human he is and what is needed to give him back what, I hope, he temporary lost." he said in a relaxed tone, to much of Bill's surprise, while taking the pokeball in his hand, rising from his chair. "I will give you a part of my research budget to help with the completion of the machine to change him back. If you need more resources, you know who to call. Now, if you excuse me Bill, I would ask you to leave my property. The task at hand will be a tough one that will require all my attention. You should return to your lab as quickly as possible. That invention won't complete itself." Hastily speaking, he showed Bill the way out of his house, hushing him out as politely he could.
Soon, Bill was walking away from the house, the professor standing in the doorway, wishing him a good trip back, with that smile too wide to be sincere. This was a strange behavior from the professor. Either he had been faking anger to confuse him as another of his bad practical joke (the professor is famous for those) or he is really angry and is trying his best to hide it. Either way, Bill had expected this trip being long enough to be worth it. If he knew the meeting would have been so short, he would have sent the ball by using his system and talked to the professor by videophone. Still, Bill greeted the older man back as walked away from his house, which was in the middle of his ranch. He had to admit, Oak was a lucky one. While he was surrounded by thousands of pokemon in data form, the old professor was surrounded by only hundred of them, of all types, but running freely around the mini environments made for them, most of them outside, when possible. Oak certainly never lacked of a pokemon to take care of. He envied him sometime. Maybe one day…
Once Bill was gone, Samuel looked sadly at Rick's pokeball, calming his anger. "I should have known it would have happened..."
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Now that this annoyance on four paws had removed all his will to run around like he did before, in fear of acting like a wild pikachu, Rick wondered what he could still do in here. His musing was interrupted by the rumbling of his belly, his attention pointing toward those delicious looking berries in a nearby tree. Like running before, it was very tempting. It was like each berry was staring at him with a "eat me" sign over them. Feeling the urge control him, he looked away from the fruits, grimacing. "No! I won't get those berries!"
As he talked, a loud crash was heard to his left. He only had the time to glance at a falling tree before his body instinctively jumped out of the way, the tree bark brushing the back of his tail. This was close. And closer he was now from the berry tree, only two feet from it now. Their scent caressed his nose, his paws shaking as he retained himself from scurrying to the tree and picking up some berries. "You won't win over me. If I say I won't get those, I won't!" The forest challenged him again, a strong wind suddenly blowing the fur of his face, the small tree bending from it, its fruits landing everywhere around the unlucky pikachu, some breaking on his paws, their juice sliding along his fingers, tickling his fur. Looking at the blue liquid, he observed in horror as his paw was moving by itself, trying to reach his mouth. Now he was convinced that, something, somewhere, wanted him to eat those berries. Something able to control this universe as much he could. He had a pretty good idea about what it was. And he wouldn't give in to it. He would show it who was leading here. Staring intently his paw, he struggled to stop it from acting against his will. He couldn't say now that he didn't know how it felt to be possessed by a ghost pokemon. His mind… it was hurting from this much concentration. He… couldn't... hold...
Suddenly... it stopped. Not only his paw, but his whole body too. All his senses but his sight stopped receiving information. Without his senses of smell and touch, the berries lost all interest to him. As also did the whole world around him. Not that it mattered much. As beautiful it was when it has been created, now it was melting away, the colors falling from the tree like if water was thrown on the paint that made them. The trees themselves seemed to implode, their matter compressed into nothingness, fading away like the fragments of imagination they were, returning to whatever memories created them. He won. He survived his first trip into one of those pokeball he hates so much. He survived his body's will to act like an animal. He won the first mental battle... with incredible good luck. Somehow, he doubted he would win the war... but at least, he now knew what he would have to fight. The question that remained, as the universe collapsed and his mind vanished into the void, was: How long would he keep the will to fight?