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Post by Wolfe on Jul 18, 2013 22:22:06 GMT -5
Well, hell didn't want Marc. Just not yet. The past is a bitter thing, thought Marc. But violence will always be a part of our lives. The wounds of the past still hurt, and as a reminder of his bitter struggle with Zuletzt, a scar traveling the length of this torso. Some wounds never heal
Marc sighed.
Violence or not, being feared by everyone didn't exactly attract companions. People respected him, but respect wasn't friendship. Marc always told himself that this was just for protection, for the organization, for Aero. But, in truth, he hadn't exactly treated himself to many luxuries, in any phase of his life. And mostly...he didn't like to admit it...but Marc was just lonely. Sure, brutally murdering opposition while narrowly avoiding the jaws of death was entertaining - it certainly didn't get boring, if anything. But it was work, and Marc honestly had little to keep him going.
He shook his head. No. Emotions were for those who didn't possess the mental capacity to block them. Marc had been called many things - a monster, a demon, an idiot - but he didn't - and neither did his compatriots consider him weak.
Marc sighed. It wasn't like him to be like this. Friendly, whenever necessary, he could be. More often than not, he could be brutally violent. The cynicism came with the job. But sentimentality? No freaking way.
Whatever, he mentally said. Let's just get this over with.
And he knocked. And so it began.
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Post by Sam on Jul 19, 2013 20:07:48 GMT -5
When the knock came, a large lump of blue shivered in the corner. A small head poked up from its place along a table, resulting in the strangest man ever seen in the world. His body was humongous, but his head? Tiny. His hair was long, making his appearance even more bizarre. He slowly lumbered over to the door and pulled it open. He saw the young man in the doorway and squinted. Who was this? Some salesperson? Ah, it could be a trainer!
"Hi," he almost groaned the greeting, however, this was his normal voice, "I'm Jason. You'll probably be wanting a Pokemon?"
He turned and blinked stupidly, trying to remember where the generation room was. Figuring it out, he led the young man through, then stood next to the machine. What was next? He scratched his tiny blonde beard, thinking. Oh yeah! "What type do you want?"
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Post by Wolfe on Jul 19, 2013 20:09:11 GMT -5
Marc refrained from commenting on the man's appearance..after all, he didn't need to add being a prejudicing asshole to his list of transgressions. He looked up at the...man...and stared into his eyes.
"Ice."
Then, unheard, he murmured: "Cold...like me."
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Post by Sam on Jul 19, 2013 20:30:42 GMT -5
As the man chose the ice option, four Pokeballs appeared, he picked up three, accidently dropping one. Mumbling about slick shells and teen pranks, he picked it up again only to drop it again. This time, however, it burst open.
From it came a small entity. It was lying face flat on the ground. It slowly picked itself up, moaning, then looked up at the person in front of her with imploring eyes. It was small and pink, had blonde hair and looked too much too human. The Smoochum considered the person to be a trainer looking for a new Pokemon. She nodded in his direction. She knew already that she wasn't going to be picked. She dreamed of contests, of beauty. He was a cold hard, lean monster. She could see it in his eyes. She sat down, trying to keep down tears at another failed attempt of getting free.
The second one popped out of her Pokeball in a flash of energetic light. At least fifteen times bigger then the smoochum, but only slightly taller then Marc himself. She lowered her lovely blue and cream head to stare into his eyes. Her movements were gentle, but her muscles were cramped in a restless energy. In her eyes were a fire like no other. A fire to dominate, but not by force. As she looked into Marc's eyes, she saw experience and power and tragedy. She could do something with this man, perhaps. They could go far. But only if her picked her. She leaned back and stared him down with eyes that betrayed nothing, awaiting his decision.
The third Pokemon was a male. The second he came out, he was hostile. He was going for battle! Something! Then he realized that he was back in a lab and relaxed. He was about the same height as the Smoochum, except his body was not of skin, but tough brown stripped fur. The Swinub shook himself, his energy from the first coming out fading. That was so tiring, being tense! Slowly, dramatically, he fell right asleep were he was, barely noticing that this was his chance to leave the lab.
Jason beckoned towards the Pokemon. "Choose one," he then beckoned to the fourth, "or choose the mystery. You choose mystery, you get the Pokemon inside, no questions asked."
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Post by Wolfe on Jul 19, 2013 20:43:17 GMT -5
And another crossroads appeared. Like so many before, Marc would put his judgement to use. This time was different. There was no going back. No take backs, regrets, or reconciliation.
No second chances.
He looked at the candidates.
To Smoochum, crying on the floor. There was sadness emanating from her...that of which he knew in an instant was that of which he alone could not heal. He looked away, feeling her scornful gaze on his body.
Then to Swinub, half-asleep. Military training told him that it would be the best choice of the three, offering ample protection and loyalty if he chose it. Maybe even a friend, he thought. The word sounded so alien to him, even in his mind - it sounded strange, unknown - hopeful. And that hope allowed him to ignore his teachings and look upon the final candidate.
Passion. He eyed the Lapras with a stare that matched her own. She radiated power, passion....peace.
He knew, in a mere instant. He made a subtle gesture towards her. He closed his eyes. And for the first time in so long, he envisioned the world that peace would bring.
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Post by Sam on Jul 19, 2013 21:00:18 GMT -5
The Lapras bowed her head towards Marc, accepting his decision to choose her. This was going to be a challenge, perhaps, but a challenge she was willing to accept. Ready to accept. The adventure would begin. Hopefully an interesting one. Maybe they would travel to the Pokemon League. Or win the top contest. Or travel the Ghost seas. Whatever the case, they would do it together. Neither Swinub nor Smoochum gave and indication to being rejected, but they were sent back into their Pokeballs along with Lapras, though hers was handed to Marc along with a belt of five empty Pokeballs and a light blue backpack containing five potions. Taking the fourth Pokeball, he released it without dropping it. It was a small, crystalline form. In surprise, he looked around, excitement building up in his small chest. But then the Vanillite realized that it was going back into the Pokeball. Ah, life was disappointing. The man led Marc back to the door, mumbled for him to close the door on the way out, then resumed his nap on the table. In about two minutes, he forgot about the boy's presence ever entering the room. Congratulations, you have recieved...Lapras (Female)  Sing | Growl | Water Gun | Mist | Fissure They say that the wisest Pokemon are those that understand the world. You could say that Lapras understood the world to a certain extent, but there's no denying that she is wise. Inside, she is brimming with a fighting spirit and restless energy, but she is always calm, composed, wise. Never falling to the roaring tide, only standing like a stone, or, in this case, a chunk of ice.Potion X5 Pokeballs X5 |
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Post by Wolfe on Jul 19, 2013 21:07:21 GMT -5
Just as fast as she had disappeared into her prison, Lapras appeared again, her form occupying most of the small room. Marc hadn't seen a problem, especially with the fact that the lab assistant had fallen asleep - on the table, of all places. Marc glanced at the being opposite him, unsure of what to say. His bravado had long vanished after the encounter with Zuletzt. He realized that he wasn't invincible. He was mortal, and he would pay for his mistakes.
Lapras stared at him, and seeing that uncertain look on his face, instead placed her head on his shoulder, humming a tune reminiscent of happier times. She radiated a comforting aura, one that would hopefully soothe his nerves.
Marc shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't used to being in contact with any being longer than it took to stick a knife in their back. This was a change. He still wasn't sure if he liked it or not. Parts of him missed the lack of responsibility that he had enjoyed in times past. With her accompanying him everywhere, he had to look out for both of their backs. But...maybe it was something he could have tried.
Change is a part of life, Lapras spoke, in a measured tone.
Marc, startled by her voice, could only nod his head in agreement.
Change, for better or worse.
END THREAD
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