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novarin · 3 years

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The Fox & The Crow.

- Music -

Midnight.

The slow lull in the constant onslaught of attacks had been a welcome respite to the ragtag Merc crew that had gathered under men that went by Talon and Stellan. While Novarin originally had intentions of his own, he could not deny when Jackary approached him to repay a favour that he go in the Mage’s stead... For now.

That had been days ago, nearly a week and there had been radio silence from the Kirin Tor Archmage since then.

On top of that, Nova had also been asked to drag along a tiny Vulpera, a runt even amongst the society of fox people and blind on top of that. What Jack had seen in this little thing was beyond Novarin but he hadn’t been in the position to argue - he owed Jackary that much. It was no secret that many had begun to baby the Vulpera and Nova was less than thrilled to have a blind snack on the field.

‘Oh, please! Let me take night watch... You need rest and I can do it! I really can!’

Kou had begged him... Pleaded with him to take over the night watch in his stead and to let Novarin have a bit of rest. Reluctantly, he had agreed, only because others would also be there. What could a blind fox honestly do?

‘Stay low n’ stay outta trouble, ain’ need none o’ th’ figh’ers in danger jus’ t’ save ya. Ya hear some’n, ya call f’er help.’

Perhaps he had been too hard. Those thoughts slipped through Nova’s mind as eyes had finally begun to close and drift off into his first nap in what seemed like days.

Until...

“Multiple frostwyrms incoming from the west, at least 5 spotted, accompanied by scourge and cultist ground troops - ETA 15 minutes. Everyone to arms, we’re going to intercept them just outside the Crossroads. Work together, have each other’s backs, and don’t die. Booze is on me afterwards.”

Nova sprang awake from the incoming message, Talon’s voice echoed hard into his ears and in the process of trying to awaken from his groggy sleep, Nova’s white eyes snapped open in the hard realization that not only were they under attack... but Kou was right in the middle of it all and likely making a nuisance of himself. Such thoughts spurred him further into action, pushing himself from place he had come to rest. When Nova snagged his blades, both hissing wildly at him upon reconnecting to their cursed owner.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck...!” Strapping both to the harness on his back, the Shadowblade leaped forward to sprint towards where he had last left the fox in the midst of the forming chaos. Everywhere and all around, people were getting ready, the call to arms nothing shy of phenomenal. They’d all worked together very well thus far and though Nova kept his distance as a scout, the now underlying problem was that the blind Vulpera was likely going to be a sitting duck in the midst of a heated battle.

“KOU!” Spotting the Vulpera who had indeed just been standing in the middle of everyone running around him, the way the little creature had his head tilted up in the exact direction that Talonoa had called out was something to be marveled. For the briefest moment, Nova almost swore that the whole blindness had been a lie... That was until Kou twitched an ear and glanced over his shoulder to try and hear who was calling for him.

“Nova? You should be resting—” Kou tried to smile, cheerful as ever in such a chaotic situation. The roars echoed through the sky of the approaching madness like thunder crackling and ripping across the sky.

“Kou, listen t’ me, ya need t’ go back t’ camp, alrigh’? I ain’ fuckin’ playin’ this cute lil’ game anymore where ya think ya coul’ be useful in this situation.”

“But... I can be. I can fight.” Kou’s bright smile began to falter into a look of concern, perhaps a bit downtrodden that Nova truly felt so little of him. It even showed when those adorable ears wilted, drooping from the tiniest of pouts.

Before the pair could even remotely finish their argument, the bestial roars were at their doorstep and a wave of ice had been blown right at them. Nova dove forward with every intention of trying to at least block it and protect Kou but before he could even move, his eyes snapped wide, watching the little fox simply raise a paw to the air.

Without even seeing the breath, a wave of warm light caressed over the pair like a shield, deflecting the would be attack and almost instantly melting it away, sparing them from being frozen in place. Others close within the vicinity had been blessed with such but it wasn’t akin to the Holy Light of Azeroth at all, it was simply a mimic of it, an illusion to fit in.

“You—...”

“We can discuss this later, but Mister Talon has said that if we stop the Frostwyrms, we get free alcohol.” That ever peppy tone returned and soon so did the waggle of that fluffed tail at the proposition of free things.

How could Novarin argue with that logic?

“Fine..! But we’re ‘avin’ a serious fuckin’ discussion ‘bout you leavin’ this t’ th’ professionals when we’re done. I won’ force ‘em t’ babysit ya!” Growling in frustration, the Shadowblade withdrew one of his blades to brace himself for the impact that had begun to turn around and come back for them. Already he could see one of the Frostwyrms arch back to fly directly towards the unlikely pair.

“I wish you would relax more, yes yes. Maybe get some therapy for that pent up anger. Are you missing someone, Mister Nova?” Kou questioned, still not even facing the beast that was coming right at them.

“FOCUS YA LIL’ FURBALL! ‘FORE I PUNT YA BACK T’ CAMP!”

Helplessly shrugging, a certain dark aura gathered at the Vulpera’s feet, within moments it quickly took over his entire body. “Just get its attention and bring it down closer, yes yes?” Was the only reply Kou gave as tiny claws raised up to the sky again, allowing a bit of his own power to reach out in a wave of unity, a feeling of Fortitude rushed through the Crossroads, blessing his allies with a sudden sense of adrenaline and power. The sensation alone was cause for Nova to pause and bring his free hand up to his own chest, surprised at the sensation coursing through his veins.

Perhaps... Just perhaps this little beastie wasn’t as useless as Novarin thought him to be.

Seeing the skeletal dragon finally come close enough, Novarin reached to his hip to grab the small contraption on his belt and aimed it upward to pull the trigger - the grappling hook shot out at blinding speed to latch onto the bones and pull the rogue with it. Scaling up with the retraction of his handy gizmo, the Shadowblade landed as best he could, hanging on for dear life when the wyrm took such as a signal to retract and fly higher into the air.

“No no! I SAID BRING IT DOWN NOT MAKE IT GO UP!! YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY!” Kou yelped, speaking into the comm for Novarin to hear him.

How could those milky eyes see that? How did he know the dragon was going up? Was Kou faking it this entire time?

Turning his attention upwards to watch the rogue’s energy tangle with the Frostwyrm, Kou waited patiently on the ground, knowing full well he could trust his teammates to handle the others that were in mid attack. A hand reached behind him to pull his staff free of it’s strap and with a slow inhale, the serpent’s skull atop it seemed to open when whispered incantations escaped the Vulpera’s tiny muzzle. The eye sockets lit up with a brilliant white glow, clearing the fox’s vision to reveal the luminescent gold hues below. The tiniest little smirk twitched and with a swipe of his hand, a torrent of shadows swirled around him from the skull of his staff, rendering the creation of a fully formed serpent and hovering shark beast to flank either side of him.

It seemed Kou’s outlandish stories may have held some sort of merit.

Novarin noticed the spike of energy below and with a renewed sense of possible hope that the fox was indeed capable of combat, he started the climb, hanging on for dear life when the Frostwyrm he was attached to began to spin and roll to try and shake the rogue free. Much to its dismay, Nova remained tightly latched, faltering only on his foothold for a brief moment.

Once close enough to the bony structure of the dragon’s neck, the cursed blade Nova had been holding onto was slammed in between the bones to help give him a handle to hold onto and brace himself for his next crazy idea. The same grappling hook he had used earlier was aimed and fired, latching the claw of it into the back of the Frostwyrm’s jaw and instead of following it with the retraction, Novarin yanked hard, forcing the beast’s head down and to turn hard right, guiding it back directly towards the little fox and his shadowy figures.

“If you have a fuckin’ plan, I SUGGES’ YA DO IT NOW!” Nova called out through the comm, the wind torrent causing quite a bit of static on his end. They were going to crash at this rate and at such a momentum, Novarin knew he’d be flung off.

“Yes yes, big plan, much surprise, very soon.” Kou teased in reply, chipper through the drastic attacks they were suffering. Once Novarin and the dragon were within casting range, Kou shot out his claws, outstretched towards Nova with all of his might. The serpent shot forward, fangs bared. The biting shadow sank hard into Novarin’s torso, not painfully but the life grip was certainly attached and with minimal effort, Kou yanked the rogue, blade, grappling hook, and some bone back to his side to free the Shadowblade of the crashing dragon.

It didn’t stop there.

The Vulpera swung his staff up in an arching motion and soon the shark took its own bite but not into Novarin, into the dragon instead, splattering the darkness onto the bones to create a tether and slow the beast down considerably as it was trying to pull itself back up to avoid crashing. Guiding the dragon as best he could, Kou braced himself for impact, forcing the beast to hit the ground.

The agonizing roar echoed out and as a claw swiped angrily at the two attackers, Kou and Novarin both dodged out of the way - Nova far more out of shock than he should have been. In truth, they needed a better plan, not just the dodge fest that was coming out of the pair trying to keep the wyrm’s attention.

“Get t’ th’ side!” Nova called out but just as he did, a single swat of that tail slammed into Kou, knocking the tiny fox several yards and gashing his soft white fur open from the sharp bones. The loudest, most pitiful yip sounded when he rolled in the dirt, the crimson already began to stain the white fur. Kou curled up a moment to apply a firm amount of pressure to the wound as if it would help stop the pain, the very wind knocked from him.

Novarin narrowed his eyes, reaching back to unsheathe his second blade, letting the whispers of the cursed objects further incite chaos into his ears. Squeezing the blades tightly, the spikes within the handles ejected, piercing his palms in the now scarred holes, the curse he had tried to avoid using at all costs but now? Now it was personal. No one got to kick the fox but him.

Both swords ignited into a bright glow once fed the droplets of blood, causing a burst of power to course through the Shadowblade. He calmed, eerily so, and with a single kick off the ground, Novarin vanished in thin air. When he returned, he was above the dragon to swipe down with both swords in a devastating blow and just as the blades connected, he vanished again. Novarin was a flurry of blood soaked rage, the disappearing act was a sequence of particularly hard strikes in a killing spree, each time reappearing in a different direction.

This distraction was enough to give the Vulpera time to pull himself up and wheeze, shaking off the glancing blow. His paw reached for the staff not far away and with another soft mutter of words, the serpent and shark made their way back to his side again. It took little convincing to let the specters avenge the wounded Vulpera and with another spike of energy, both rushed towards the flailing dragon, coiling around the beast until they dove into the ground, hiding for a blink of an eye.

With absolutely no warning, dark chains shot up from the ground to attach themselves to the dragon, coiling around the limbs and locking the beast in place, all easily controlled by a single paw in the air and a panting fox who wasn’t wearing his usual smile but instead, a frown of pain. The milky clouds had already begun to return to the glowing gold eyes but he wouldn’t let that deter him from getting the job finished.

“Anytime, Mister Nova!” Kou called out as he held the vice grip on the beast with all of his might. He was struggling to contain a dragon that could have had him as a snack but for his new friends? He used all of his might to restrain the Frostwyrm.

Upon command, Novarin reappeared from the shadows, diving down into a full evisceration with both blades crossed to snap through the Frostwyrm’s neck like a pair of scissors. With ferocious velocity, the Rogue went straight through, decapitating the beast and severing the Lich ties that brought it to life. He landed in the pile of the skeleton that began to collapse, struggling as the last of the Lichfire faded from the heart chamber of the fallen creature.

Once slain, Kou exhaled the breath he had been holding and stumbled back to collapse in a sitting position and press his palm to his side. Ears folded back a moment, frustrated at himself for getting hurt. The shadows recoiled back into him and faded away, leaving the tiny fox alone.

In realization that the Vulpera had collapsed, Novarin pushed himself up from the rubble to sprint over. He knelt down, intent to search and see just how badly it was. “Hey, ya alrigh’?”

The clouded vision raised towards Novarin’s voice but the roars of more dragons were deafening to those overly large audits. “I will be.. But the others need our help! No time to sit, yes yes!” Giving the best smile he could muster, Kou pushed himself to stand, shaking off the small gash in his side in favour of finding the others to assist.

“Mm...” Nodding, Nova offered two quick pats to Kou’s head and stood up, turning to face the others that were in their own battles. “Shall we?”

“For Azeroth!” Kou chirped, running as best he could with the tiniest of limps, ready to jump right in.

“F’er Azeroth.”

> @koukikai <

>Mention: @talonoa @inistellan <

#Kou Kikai #Novarin #Merc & Company #Talonoa

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themurphyzone · 5 years

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Absolutely Disastrous Ch 3

Listen, is that a reader’s tears I hear? Sounds to me, loud and clear! On the web, through text, in your ear! Breaking hearts at breakneck pace! Dashing happiness, putting angst in its place! A rose by any other name still has its thorns! When everything’s worse you’ll have no time to mourn! Jessie! James! Meowth’s the name! Putting readers in their place! We’re Team Rocket, and we’re in your face!

Ch 3: Strength in Numbers! Rescue Professor Underwood!

The boulder apparently had a homing system, because it wouldn’t stop chasing them even though they’d tried backtracking, circling, and making zigzags to lose it.

“Does this happen often?” Zack yelled. A shoelace from the sneakers Diogee carried came loose and wrapped itself around Milo and Zack’s ankles.

“Someone getting attached to me by shoelace? Not really,” Milo replied. “I use slip-ons. Less hassle that way. Did you know the plastic tip at the end is called an aglet? I learned it from Aglet Awareness Day!”

Zack’s eyes only grew wider, and Milo worried they’d just pop out of his head if he kept it up. “How are you people so calm about this? We’re gonna get pancaked here!”

Melissa shrugged. “You act like this is your first time being chased by a runaway boulder.”

“That’s because it IS my first time!”

“To be fair, this area’s a forest,” Milo said. “When you live at the base of a volcano, you learn to dodge falling Geodude and Graveler pretty early on.”

“You live around a volcano?” Zack asked.

“Don’t worry. Mt. Chimney’s last eruption took a sizable chunk out of it. It really just spews ash nowadays.”

“Yeah, because that’s reassuring.”

“Alright, boys! Act like you just won a three-legged race!” Melissa aimed her phone at Milo and Zack. While Milo pumped his fist in the air, Zack kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure the boulder wasn’t looming over them. The shutter went off several times.

Melissa flicked through her pictures, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “This looks more like you’re paranoid over something trying to kill you.”

Zack glared at her. “Do you really want me to point out the obvious?”

Running with his leg tied to someone else’s was getting exhausting. Zack had never been in this type of situation before, and Milo was feeling somewhat guilty for dragging him along. The boulder was about twenty feet behind them, gaining speed as it rolled down a steep incline.

Thinking fast, Milo noticed a lone sneaker in Diogee’s mouth. The laces were still intact.

“Diogee, sneaker now!” Milo ordered.

Diogee dropped the shoe into his hand. Milo freed the laces from the holes, adding a rope from his backpack for extra length. Once the makeshift lasso was complete, he twirled it above his head.

“Hold on, everyone!” Milo shouted, taking aim at a thick branch just ahead of them. Melissa and Zack latched onto Milo’s sides, while Diogee sprang onto his back. The sneaker wrapped itself around the branch, the momentum carrying the group upward.

The boulder passed underneath them. It plowed into a cliff’s side, becoming nothing more than rubble.

Now that the danger had passed, Milo became aware of a high-pitched shriek in his ears.

Melissa punched Zack in the arm. “Boulder’s gone. Stop screaming.”

“You don’t wanna blow out your larynx,” Milo added.

Zack inhaled, though he kept his eyes squeezed shut. “Just get us down from here. We need to help Dad.”

Zack knew the forest better than Milo and Melissa. Now that they weren’t being pursued by Crazy Shoe Lady or a killer boulder, they had a better appreciation of the verdant scenery around them. Bug and Flying types soared overhead, while Zigzagoon enjoyed the abundant berry bushes below.

“My mom and I moved from Olivine City in Johto so we could be closer to Dad’s work,” Zack explained. “Mom prefers to work in the city, and Dad prefers the natural habitats. She’s a Pokémon Doctor, so she travels around the region as needed.”

“So you’re a city boy out in Hoenn country. No wonder you freaked at a tiny boulder,” Melissa smirked.

Zack folded his arms. “First, that boulder was not tiny. Second, I can handle both city and country just fine. And Littleroot isn’t that far from other cities.”

“You should see Murphy Ranch sometime,” Milo suggested. “That’s where I’m from. My family raises Absol.”

“So your family gave you Diogee?” Zack asked. “Dad told me Absol were rare.”

Milo shook his head. “They didn’t give him to me. A Murphy and Absol bond at a young age and we take the one we're closest to on our Pokémon journey. But you’re right about Absol being rare. Wild Absol were nearly hunted to extinction in Sheriff Murphy’s time, and the surviving ones retreated into mountainous regions where humans aren’t likely to go.”

“Milo’s practically an Absol connoisseur,” Melissa said. “Just ask him if you want to know anything.”

“Alright. I’ll test it out,” Zack grinned, turning to Milo. “How big can Absol grow and what’s the largest on record?”

“Absol’s average height is 3’11, give or take a few inches. Diogee is on the smaller end of the scale,” Milo said. “The largest Absol on record was 5’2, owned by a man named Jeremiah Black. An old Kalosian king is rumored to have one bigger than that, but the debate on that claim is still ongoing.”

“Told ya,” Melissa said, punching Zack’s arm again.

Zack rubbed his shoulder, moving to Milo’s left so he wasn’t next to Melissa. “Does she always do that?”

“It’s how she shows her affection,” Milo replied. “That was her friendship punch.”

“I got plenty of ‘em,” Melissa bragged, blowing on her knuckles for good measure.

Magikarp were everywhere. Some arched high above the lake’s surface in not-so-graceful Splash attacks, while others were content to remain submerged. Zack pointed to a small rowboat in the middle of the lake.

“My dad took his rowboat out. I, uh, kinda have a fear of Magikarp and some other Water Pokémon so I stayed over there,” Zack said, gesturing to a nearby picnic table. “I was writing songs, Dad was fishing. Then the Magikarp started acting up. I didn’t have a way of getting to Dad, so I ran back to the lab for help. Guess things haven’t calmed down yet.”

Diogee paced around the shore, occasionally stopping and pawing at the water. A Magikarp sprang up and smacked him in the face with a tail. Diogee growled and made a grab for it.

“This isn’t natural. There has to be a cause somewhere,” Melissa said.

“Like over there?” Milo asked. He pointed to a man who maniacally laughed as a group of Magikarp splashed around him. His blue and white striped shirt reminded Milo of cheap pirate outfits in the costume store, though he didn’t recognize the strange logo on the man’s black bandana.

“SWIM! SWIM, ME HEARTIES! SHOW THEM LANDLUBBERS WHO THE REAL SCOURGES OF THE HIGH SEAS BE!”

“Well, that was easy,” Melissa shrugged.

The man obviously suffered from a lack of spatial awareness. Somehow he hadn’t noticed a group of teens standing fifteen feet away.

Milo was prepared to challenge the wannabe pirate to a Pokémon battle. But Zack shook his head, motioning for the group to follow him behind a thick oak tree. He picked up a thick, leafy branch and tossed it aside, revealing a large duffel bag.

“Is Diogee the only Pokémon you two have?” Zack asked.

“Afraid so,” Melissa admitted. “My dad never let me own one. Believed I wasn’t responsible enough.”

Zack unzipped the bag. Three Poké Balls laid inside. “These balls contain the starters of Hoenn. Dad was going to let them out for exercise once he was done fishing, but now there’s a Magikarp debacle and he can’t get to shore. There’s too many Magikarp for Diogee to handle alone. I know they’re supposed to be reserved for new trainers, but in this situation, we don't have much of a choice."

He grabbed the ball marked with a leaf sticker.

“I’m putting myself at a disadvantage here, so I’m counting on you guys,” Melissa said. She took the ball with a flame sticker.

The remaining ball was covered in raindrop stickers. Before Milo could touch it, the ball opened on its own. Seconds later, Milo felt something chewing on his hair.

“Right, Mudkip kinda does that,” Zack laughed. “Forgot to mention it.”

Milo carefully tugged his cowlick out of Mudkip’s mouth. “Sorry, we’re kinda in a hurry right now.”

Mudkip whimpered, pawing at Milo’s face as it tried to get to his hair. Diogee growled sternly, and Mudkip settled down.

“Alright, I’ve got a plan,” Melissa declared. “Milo, you confront the pirate guy. Zack and I will knock out the Magikarp and clear a path so Professor Underwood can come to shore. Capiche?”

“Capiche!” Milo and Zack agreed. Mudkip cheered, jumping from excitement. Diogee nudged him away with his back leg.

The group split up. Melissa and Zack headed for the docks, figuring it would put them out of range from Murphy’s Law.

“We’re gonna have to work together to defeat this costumed clown,” Milo said, pacing back and forth in front of Diogee and Mudkip. Diogee sat up straight, taking in every word. But Mudkip seemed more interested in Diogee’s claws than Milo. Diogee huffed and removed his paw from Mudkip’s mouth. “Mudkip, we’ve only known each other for ten minutes, but I need you to listen in battle. You know Water Gun, right?”

Mudkip opened his mouth, firing a Water Gun at Diogee. Milo quickly jumped in front of him, opening an umbrella to shield them from the sudden torrent.

“Okay, that’s a yes,” Milo said. He tossed the umbrella aside. “But next time, say it. Don’t spray it.”

The light scolding didn’t deter Mudkip in the slightest. Diogee growled again.

“And Diogee, you’re working with Mudkip for the time being. Be nice,” Milo added.

Diogee stuck a front leg out, holding it towards Mudkip. Mudkip licked his claws, and Diogee quickly pulled back.

“Good enough,” Milo said. “Let’s get on with the confronting!”

“Argh, if anyone be callin’ ye weak again, they be walkin’ the plank!” the pirate exclaimed, cackling as he waded in the shallow water. Several Magikarp followed him around, occasionally pausing to nibble at the Pokémon food he tossed at them.

“Excuse me!” Milo called, stepping out from behind the large tree. “Did you have something to do with these Magikarp acting up? Cause there’s a guy trapped in the middle of the lake and he’s my friend’s dad and we kinda need to get him to shore-“

“I only be releasin’ Magikarp into their natural habitat,” the pirate sneered. “So get, ye knave.”

Suspecting that he wouldn’t be getting anywhere with his current approach, Milo decided to switch tactics. “My name’s Milo Murphy. This is my partner Diogee. And Mudkip is…Mudkip, stop chewing on that Magikarp’s whiskers and get over here!”

Mudkip sauntered back to Milo, trying to chew on his shoes. Milo was just glad he didn’t have laces.

“Yer scurvy Mudkip has soiled me treasure. Ye shall pay for this insolence. Ye, nay, the world shall know the wrath of Patchy! Into battle, me hearties!”

“Diogee! Mudkip! Let’s go!” Milo shouted. Diogee lowered his horn, ready for action. But Mudkip continued to gnaw on the front of Milo’s shoes. Milo picked him up, turning him so he faced Patchy and the Magikarp.

“Argh, how can ye be a trainer if yer gilly friend there don’t listen to ye?” Patchy laughed. “Magikarp, keelhaul ‘em!”

A horde of Magikarp swarmed Diogee and Mudkip, splashing them with their fins and tackling every part of their body. They swept Diogee’s paws out from under him, and for every Magikarp taken out with a Cut attack, three more took their place. Mudkip fired Water Gun at oncoming Magikarp, twisting and tackling anything that came near him. Even Diogee wasn’t spared from Mudkip’s pummeling.

“Mudkip! Focus your attacks!” Milo called. But Mudkip was half-submerged and couldn’t hear his directions. “Diogee, there’s too many for you to handle with close range moves! Try a Razor Wind!”

Diogee’s horn glowed as he reared back, pressure building in the air behind his head. Then he released several sharp blades of energy. The blades connected with five Magikarp, and they sunk beneath the water in defeat. But their brethren replaced them just as quickly.

“See ye, knave!” Patchy crowed. “I be takin’ me leave!”

Patchy fled, a school of Magikarp trailing behind him in search of more handouts.

“Hey!” Milo shouted. “I’m not done battling you! Get back here!”

A flailing Magikarp slammed into Milo, knocking him onto his back. Diogee growled, placing himself in front of Milo as he caught his breath.

“We need to go after Patchy,” Milo said, using Diogee’s back to steady himself. “He’s heading for the docks. Hope Melissa and Zack are doing okay.”

“We’re not doing okay!” Melissa shouted. Milo winced at the sound of splintering wood. “Zack won’t come anywhere near the docks and Treecko and Torchic aren’t used to working together!”

“Melissa, the guy we saw earlier is heading towards you! Don’t let him get away!” Milo said. “Sorry, we couldn’t stop him in time. His name is Patchy and-“

“Stick to Ember so you don’t fall in!” Melissa ordered. “Sorry, you said his name is Patchy?”

“That’s right,” Milo confirmed.

He could practically hear Melissa’s smirk. “How convenient. There just so happens to be a boat with Patchy’s name on it here. Treecko, I want you to cover Torchic. Torchic, use Ember on the boat next to us.”

“Is Professor Underwood closer to the shore?” Milo asked.

“He’s closer, but there’s an entire wall of Magikarp out there and I don’t think he’s gonna be able to break through,” Melissa said. “Okay, boat’s destroyed. Won’t be as easy for Patchy to escape via water.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Milo promised. He slipped his phone halfway into his backpack before it fell out of his hand and dropped into the water. Sparks flew out from the casing, and Milo knew it couldn’t be salvaged. “Aw, man. That was the third one this week!”

Mudkip panted as he tried to keep up with Milo and Diogee, but he keeled over just as the docks were in sight. Milo scooped him up. “You were great out there, Mudkip,” he said. “You earned a rest.”

Mudkip smiled tiredly as he returned to his Poké Ball.

“Can you keep going, Diogee?” Milo asked.

Diogee nodded, brushing up against Milo’s side. His fur dripped water onto Milo’s sweater vest.

“Easy boy, you’re all wet,” Milo laughed. “Come on, we’d better go help Melissa and Zack.”

Up ahead, a thin trail of smoke rose into the air. Milo and Diogee followed it until they reached the docks, where Patchy was trying and failing to hitch a rope to a team of Magikarp.

“Aye, work with me!” Patchy grumbled.

He didn’t seem to consider fleeing into the forest at all.

Milo high-fived Melissa, and together they watched the remains of a small rowboat burn away. Torchic ruffled her feathers proudly, while Treecko fingered the twig in his mouth.

“Pirate down. Now we need to break up those Magikarp,” Melissa said, pointing to the wall of fish Pokémon that surrounded Professor Underwood’s boat. “And coax Zack out of hiding too. Apparently, he had some traumatic childhood incident with Magikarp. AND TREECKO HAS TO BE ABLE TO HEAR YOU WHEN YOU’RE COMMANDING HIM!”

She raised her voice, glaring at a berry bush that Zack wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding in.

Zack popped out of the bush, nervously glancing at the Magikarp. “They’re not natural. The gills, the mouth flaps, the vacant stare that lulls people into a false sense of security….”

“Ignore him,” Patchy spoke up, surprising everyone. “Magikarp be hurtin’ nobody, right me hearties?”

A Magikarp smacked him in the face with its tail, and Patchy toppled over. The rope he was using wrapped around his ankles and wrists, binding them tightly. Milo and Diogee dragged a stunned Patchy onto the bank.

“I rest my case,” Zack said.

A waterspout shot out from underneath the lake, dislodging the Magikarp that prevented Professor Underwood from reaching the docks. Then something large and blue shot out of the lake, stretching far above the treetops. Everyone covered their ears as it let out a deafening roar, the sound wave alone threatening to knock them off their feet.

The Magikarp settled down, quietly sinking beneath the surface. Their orange scales shimmered, and within minutes there was no trace of them.

The Pokémon turned, its violet eyes scrutinizing them closely. Zack waved at it. “Hey, Gyarados! Thanks for the help!” he exclaimed.

Milo and Melissa could only stare as Zack stroked the Gyarados’ whiskers. Gyarados rested its head on the docks, growling in contentment.

A few seconds passed before Melissa found her voice. “Wait, so you freak at Magikarp, but you aren’t intimidated by Gyarados?” she asked.

Zack shrugged. “Only when they’re rampaging. Gyarados is pretty cool most of the time though. Why? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

He smirked in triumph.

Melissa folded her arms. “I’m not scared! I was just concerned! Don’t read too much into this, Zachary Scaredy-Skitty Underwood.”

Her proximity to the forest said otherwise.

“Gyarados, would you mind pushing my dad back to shore? He kinda got stuck out there,” Zack said.

Gyarados nodded, giving Zack one last nuzzle before swimming to Professor Underwood’s boat. It flicked its tail several times, creating small waves that gently pushed him to the docks.

“Dad, are you okay?” Zack asked as Professor Underwood tied his boat to a post. The boat had a few scratches from the Magikarp smacking into it, but it still functioned perfectly.

“Don’t worry, son. I’m fine. You and your friends really saved the day,” Professor Underwood chuckled. “And I take it this is the guy who caused all the trouble.”

“I only be providin’ homes for water-dwellin’ Pokémon. Tis not a crime,” Patchy retorted.

Professor Underwood glared at him. “Yet you disrupted the balance of the forest. The lake can’t sustain this many Magikarp. Too much competition. We’ll have our hands full relocating them to other habitats. And there’s the question of how you got all those Magikarp here in the first place. But I think that would be best reserved for police work. I'll give Officer Elliot a call when we get back to the lab.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Cherry on the cake. We get to deal with Elliot.”

“He was our crossing guard in school,” Milo offered. “He always lets us know when the ice cream shop was having a special!”

“Yeah, but not before shoving his stop sign in your face,” Melissa muttered.

Professor Underwood cleared his throat. “Right. As much as I’d love to stay, I gotta get back to the lab. The starter Pokémon need to be prepared for tomorrow. I’m expecting new trainers.”

“Uh, Dad? These are the trainers you were expecting,” Zack gestured to Milo and Melissa. “You were supposed to register them today.”

“Oops, forgot about that. My bad,” Professor Underwood said. “And I guess you used the starters and your Absol to deal with the Magikarp?”

“That’s right!” Milo exclaimed. “And they were all pretty awesome too. I had to put Mudkip in his Poké Ball cause he got tired, but they all did really well even though they were outnumbered.”

He tussled the fur on Diogee’s neck. Diogee stood up straighter at the praise.

Professor Underwood smiled. “You three have just made my job a lot easier.”

AN: This chapter took a while to write, I admit.

Poor Zack. Get used to it kid, you’re a main character in this story.

Melissa and Zack banter is fun.

Zack has the opposite problem to Misty in the original series. Misty was afraid of Gyarados because she crawled into one’s mouth as a baby. She didn’t overcome her fear until after she returned to her post as gym leader, and then in Sun and Moon turns out she can Mega Evolve it. You go girl.

#absolutely disastrous #milo murphy's law #melissa chase #zack underwood #oras au #absol #diogee #hoenn starters

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rememberthe4th · 7 years

Text

Tales of the Hunt- “Vampire-Beast”

The Hunter turned the desiccated pet over, carefully inspecting the small slits cut by needle-like incisors in several places along its neck. Deep cuts along the face and shoulder tell of its predator’s hooked claws which pinned the poor pet to the dirt as the beast fed.

The pet under inspection was called “Scoob,” and before his murder Scoob was a happy and healthy Great-Dane of seven years, beloved by his owner: Bill Tuckett. Bill had been warned of something lurking around the area after his neighbor’s sheep had started disappearing. Bill had seen what happens to livestock when foreign predators migrate through, as he’d lost many a goat to passing mountain-lions or panthers, so he kept his chickens in their coop and the goats sheltered when the sun started hanging low. He was certain Scoob would be able to handle himself and the rest should anything threaten their peaceful little farm.

When Bill found Scoob dead and drained there on his front-porch, he knew this wasn’t any ordinary beast-of-the-wild. As with most of the clients the Woodsmen aid, he made a few right/lucky phone-calls, and soon found the old Hunter waiting at his doorstep. The Clan had been hunting the remnants of a Mayan-era plague, and Bill’s assault perfectly fit the bill.

The why of the beasts’ origin has been lost to the ages, but it was unmistakably unleashed as an act of war. Bearing every sign of Unholy birth, the beasts preyed on the livestock and young of enemy villages, at-first. Like most of the curses and unnatural means the natives used against one-another their influence remained long after the grudge-holders had been put to rest.

It seems the beasts were either unable to reproduce, or choose to remain of a small-pack-size as their presence hadn’t expanded as rapidly as one might expect. The Woodsmen believed this to be a display of intellect: as a smaller pack requires less food; less food less evidence. Members within both ends of the North American continent had encountered one or two of these creatures across the ages, though no encounter had yet to yield any productive-information.

Called the ‘chupacabra’ in the south, and the ‘vampire-beast’ a little further-north; it was a lanky-four-legged creature of mammal-nature, and resembling a canine. The beast was notorious for attacking small animals of any kind, and leaving a blood-drained husk in their wake. This signature-style of feeding is what first drew the masses’ eye towards the beasts, and spurred the Woodsmen to finish their task; regardless of how slippery their prey had been.

So, when a back-country farmer a few miles from the Sovereign State of Texas’ growing borders cried ‘wolf,’ the Woodsmen Clan was ready to see this scourge at last extinct. While operatives combed the surrounding farms and forests, they summoned the Old Hunter himself to answer the call.

Bill watched the strange-man, who had to be at-least in his sixties or seventies by his white-hair and tired-eyes, as he delicately probed Scoob for answers. The heart-broken farmer had to focus on the stranger, with his black-fur poncho that concealed rattling-tools which chimed when he first knelt beside the dog. He knew by this stranger’s very presence that his call had summoned someone several-steps-above the local law-enforcement; and he did his best to let the man do his work; sticking around to answer any questions. The stranger didn’t ask any.

When the Old Hunter was certain, he left Bill and Scoob for only a moment to make the confirmation. After what had to be the shortest business-related call Bill had ever witnessed, the Hunter returned with an apology, and a small black-envelope produced from the dark-abyss under that poncho. He told Bill that the amount inside should be sufficient to cover his losses and ensure any-further cooperation. Bill eagerly opened the envelope; hardly hearing the stranger’s boots leave his porch. When he looked up to search the man for any sign that this wasn’t real, he found himself alone with his dead-dog and one hell-of-a-check. Leaving Scoob to sleep under the warming-Southern-sun, Bill went inside to ponder where he would even cash the damn-thing.

Flattened-grass and a small-trail of blood showed the Hunter where Scoob had been found, his impression-still clear in the unwashed ground. The aging-guard dog had been sleeping on the job when he was ambushed, the weight of the beast pinning where he laid as it went to work. The poor dog’s impressive-jaws and claws couldn’t save him; such little signs of struggle. The beast was tidy to say the least, but there was enough to started. The Hunt was on.

While the other Woodsmen set-up perimeter cameras and ensured Bill’s farm was the only with exposed livestock over those next-few-nights, the Hunter carefully led a few kids out into the pasture. Out of sight and out of scent, he hid among the dense branches of a nearby shade-tree. Bill corralled the rest as the sunset, leaving their trio alone to face the night. The two young-goats cried in the darkness, afraid of anything and everything which they could not see. The Old Hunter was silent.

The rustle of the passing-breeze spooked the twins, and for the first time since the sun had set, their cries were not met with the hungry-howls of the wild. The Old Hunter blinked several-times, hard; as if to wake himself. He slowly leaned off of the tree’s heart, careful not to stress the branches beneath him. The two had huddled close together; facing in either direction, but the soft-green patches of grass around them were still. As he watched, they nervously craned their heads from side-to-side, ears twisting in hopes to catch a sneaking predator’s slip. The night’s breeze rolled through once more, but the wind was all that moved.

A sound, not near the kids or out in the pasture, but closer to the farmhouse. The Old Hunter heard it just as clearly as the twins, but he didn’t share their scream. He shifted onto his legs, poking his head through a different patch of leaves for a better view. The silence was anxious, and fear was rife in the air. He’d prepared to leap down, now-longer cautious to the ruckus he caused. He would accept losing the beast if he could save the farm.

The kids cried again, as they’d long forgot about the Hunter’s whereabouts. He lept at their sound, but another scream was already echoing from across the pastures’ fence. The scream turned to gruff-shouts as dark-shadows started to dance by the barn. The Hunter was about to leap the steel-gate when a blossom of orange-and-red flames sent a bullet whizzing into the night-sky. The whip-crack of the pistol tore through the air, and the instant after the night burst into life: birds took flight from nearby-branches, the barn-animals cried out-in shock, and the rustling of small-paws. The fight had ended.

The Old Hunter ran to the barn’s small awning, and found himself face-to-face with the beast. As tales had told, it stood on long and skinny legs, the front legs buckling mid-way; allowing its slender tongue to feed. It lifted its narrow-head when the Hunter’s shadow fell over it, Bill’s blood still dripping from that freakishly-long tongue. Bill’ head was turned towards the back of the barn, but the deep-grooves those hooked-claws left could still be seen underneath its front-paws. Like a carpenter afraid of having the tape-measure rap his knuckles, the beast slowly retracted it tongue while peeling back its lips to display those razor-like canines. He watched as it started to hunker-down, building-up the strength to pounce.

The Hunter rolled his shoulders back, and even in his shadow that black-poncho distorted his dimensions. He took a sudden and sharp step towards the beast, and it snapped backwards quicker than he’d imagined. Bill lurched as those hooks tore free from his chest and face, but was stayed still after. The beast was not going to give any more ground; its face low and rear-legs poised like pistons to launch those four-pincher-like fangs straight at his neck.

The two stayed frozen like that for almost a minute, the Hunter unblinking and the beast giving a low hiss-like snarl. The collision of fur-covered-ribs and the barn’s inside-wall, some dismayed goat bumping it he assumed; caused the beast to flinch.

Two-bolts, fired in almost-utter-silence, flew out from under the Hunter’s poncho, one pinning the beast’s front-legs to the dirt, and the second sinking deep into its left-shoulder. Felled, but not slain, it cackled as he approached. The sound was sharp with despair, and, if it could feel it, hatred. The beast gnawed at the troublesome steel-rods which protruded from its skin before giving him another warning-bark.

The Hunter took aim once-more. The beast lowered its head in defeat, but he held the killing-blow. He kept his crossbow centered on its cowering-skull, slowly turning his head to the slight-sound of scurrying behind him. The beast cackled again, but the Hunter was quick to make it the last.

When the beast’s mocking-cry died mid-sound, that scurrying turned to a heated-dash. The Hunter was quick to pivot, but the silenced-steps warned him he was already mid-ambush.

The first flew well past the Old Hunter, but, as he watched the blur of deep-brown pass him, the second caught two claw-fulls of poncho. Like being hit by a fifty-pound cannon-ball; the Hunter was hopeless to keep his footing, and the two tumbled backwards into the innocent lawncare-equipment. This clever-beast ended-up on-top, but after the second-volley of steel-bolts pierced its gut, it rolled-off easily enough. As it curled into a whimpering ball, the Hunter rolled to safety; seeking out its partner-in-crime.

The first and third beasts were gone, and Bill offered no insight as to where they’d fled to. The Old Hunter slowly rose to his feet; not from caution, but an inability to achieve any greater-speed. He slit the throat of his whining-captive before stowing it into a plastic-bag.

After retrieving the two young-goats he’d used as bait and returning them to their now homeless-family, the Hunter made a few last phone-calls; each ending without an apology. He took his kill, and left the farm without turning-back. The Old Hunter rarely dwelt on failures those days.

#writing #short story

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