Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Let's Slaughter An Anime/Game/Whatever Beyond All Recognition! Yay! ❯ Chapter 1

Welcome to my Pokemorph RPG summary!

First thing to get down is…I hate Pokemon. Yes, that's right! During the height of the Pokemon craze I was working at a place in the mall that caters to kid's birthday parties. Guess what more than half of those parties were themed? Guess how many little snotnosed brats I had to put up with screaming about Pikachu and throwing fits on the floor because so-and-so got the Charmander party favor and he didn't? Day in and day out, people. I loathe the very mention of the name. I have never played the game(s?), I have rarely seen the series.

So you can imagine my feelings when a friend brought up the idea of a Pokemon role playing story she wanted to do. I was reluctant, but Liz has never let me down as a game master. So I agreed.

It paid off. I had a really great time, and for Christmas I decided to write Liz and our partner in crime, Brian, a sort of fanfiction pieced together from scenes of the RP we'd done.

Pokemorph may be an entirely original idea of Liz's or she may have been inspired from someone else, but basically what a Pokemorph is is…an anthromorphized Pokemon. Yep. Two hands, two legs, walks upright, speaks, emotes, lives like…well, a normal person. Keeping that in mind…There is no Evolution. Whatever one is born as, that's what he/she is for the rest of their lives. There are no "humans". These are as human as it gets in this universe.

According to Brian (Go complain to him, he's the one who came to this conclusion), A Pokemorph can have parents of two completely different types and still be born as something else, (As evidenced by Cord's mom being a Persian, his Dad being a Porygon, and Cord himself being a…Dragonair? It confused the hell out of me, too.) His explanation is that Pokemon are technically all the same species, so breeding results are determined by pure chance.

Also…While we can in no way claim the base creatures as our creations, the characters themselves and everything that goes with them is still ours, as is the setting and story itself. No plagiarism.

If you don't like it, feel free to tell me, (because it's stupid to post something and then go "waah! Don't flame me! I only wanna hear praise! Waah!") but I don't actually care. This was made for Liz and Bri, not for you. ^_~ If nothing else, I just wanted to see how many people I could piss off by mangling Pokemon beyond all recognition. And then making it publicly accessible, no less.

If you aren't yet disinterested, then sally forth, and good luck, for this was written with only those who were involved in mind so some things may not come across clearly to a third party. Tough noogies. And if you actually get that far, sorry about the sudden unresolved stop at the end…that's where the RP ended, though we may restart it soon and I will be sure to chronicle things as they happen so I can continue the story! (Maybe. I dunno, this alone kinna fried my brain as it is. @_@)

I'll shut up now.

To Cord, the twisting, convoluted hodgepodge of metal spires and randomly sculpted, nearly organic edges of the station reminded him of something some child had made in art class…perhaps by taking a ball of clay and rolling it about in screws, nails, toothpicks, marbles, and assorted hardware. When he thought of anything built of "cutting edge technology", he usually began to think of streamlined forms and clean lines. This…was a train wreck of aesthetics, a prime example of too many left brainers in one room.

However, despite its less than pleasing exterior, it did boast many things his old home…so many miles away by now…lacked in. Clean air and water, a stable political environment, a delightful lack of crime, prime education, and more than enough jobs to go around. This was, in essence, the promised land for so many people. Mothers soothed their children to sleep with tales of the magnificent station, and its name was on just on the tongue of every creature he knew. Originally, only the ridiculously affluent had been able to book passage onto this floating utopia. The ridiculously affluent, however, do not sully their hands with manual labor…the hydroponic food gardens needed tending, the electronics needed to be maintained, delicate systems needed to be constantly adjusted, repairs made, climates controlled, halls and streets swept, shops needed clerks, restaurants needed waiters and cooks…and therein lay the opportunity for those of the middle and lower classes who were lucky or skilled enough to make it here.

It had taken Cord and his parents several years to earn enough to book passage, even with heavy donations from other family members and friends. His father had quickly become one of the top computer programmers while his mother helped in accounting. Both had found good, solid jobs, and were settling into their new life happily, with plans for the future. They were just so damn excited. Cord sighed at the thought…he, for one, had not completely settled down in the six months that he'd been on board. He'd found ways to keep himself occupied despite his unease. His housing level was rather close to the gym, which came complete with a well-equipped spar and VR room. He could spend the better part of a day in there, easily. Even now, he was headed there, his duffle bag swinging lazily from one hand…when he found himself suddenly sprawled flat on his face, some daemon gibbering at him before bolting, and well before he could get a look at the thing.

When he did raise his head, however, he found himself nose to toe with a black boot that had to be three times bigger than the ones he wore. His eyes continued to travel up…the hem of a black trenchcoat…silver buttons…the strangest looking hands he'd yet seen, with oddly thick digits terminating in rounded pads, and covered with a dusky purpled grey skin…and further up…he blinked. It was a girl. A rather pretty girl, with large, angular violet eyes and full lips…and…things…growing out of her head? Eh, he'd seen stranger…

"Well?" she asked in a slightly impatient tone, "are you going to get up or do we have to accept that you're now part of the tile and walk all over you?"

"What?" Cord replied intelligently, still staring up at her in bemusement. Geh, what hit him?

"You're in our way," she growled, one fist going to her hip in mild impatience, broad tail lashing once.

"Oh…right…sorry about that," Cord replied, scrambling to his feet. He noted with some surprise that she was very nearly as tall as he was…few girls approached his impressive 6'10 height. He groaned then, rubbing the back of his aching head. "Did you get the number of that truck?"

Dusk hued lips twisted slightly in a smirk, thick fingers absently brushing back similarly purple hair from her face.

"It was a Rapidash. Probably late…again. We've learned to stay out of her way. And speaking of being in the way, if you'd-"

"AAGH!!" Cord cried sharply, interrupting whatever it was the strange creature was about to say, whipping his head around to stare behind him. Someone was tugging on his tail!

"Oooh! They ARE attached! And here I thought you just had gaudy fashion sense!" giggled the little blonde, foxy ears twitching as she let go of the two sapphire spheres that grew near the tip of Cord's long, blue and white tail. This girl was decidedly less intimidating…much shorter, with well-coiffed blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, dressed in a purple mini skirt and patterned baby tee…both items looked rather expensive. Her very bearing reminded Cord painfully of a high school cheerleader. Not exactly the sort of person he'd expect to find accompanying this considerably more sober, dignified girl. "Is the one in your chest natural too?" She giggled again, long, furred (and well conditioned!) tails the same color as her hair swishing proudly behind her in a proud, generous plume of golden cream.

"YES!" he cried, closing his black coat protectively over the shining jewel. Normally he'd be happy to have a curvy blonde touch him, but she seemed intent on dissecting him! "I'm supposed to have them, I'm a Dragonair…haven't you seen one before?"

"Tch, no need to get in a huff!" she told him, peering speculatively at his large frame. "Ugh, he has the same lack of fashion sense that you do, Astra…right down to the trench coat…except he's not wearing a shirt!" she snickered, flouncing back to her companion's side with a swish of those fine tails. Cord realized the ditz was right…he and the tall girl had basically the same outfit…black trenchcoats, black pants, black boots…and in her case, a black shirt. Unrelieved darkness, between the two of them…the Ninetails of course had to make further comment. "So drab!" she cried, "So wannabe Goth! You should go with some tangerine, it'd set off the blue of your skin nicely! And maybe get a piercing in that wing thingie on the side of your head…"

"It's my ear, and I'm not getting anything pierced, thank you," Cord grumbled, laying a hand to the snowy, tapered ear that sprouted from similarly colorless hair. The girls made an odd pair…the somber, strange one and the fashion vic….er….expert…yet they were obviously heading somewhere together. Neither was terribly bad looking…and he didn't know very many people here. Perhaps he shouldn't pass up the opportunity? "My name is Cord," he offered rather suddenly. The dusky skinned girl in the trenchcoat didn't even blink.

"Don't be rude, Astra!" the blonde admonished, standing akimbo before flashing a movie star smile at Cord. "My name is Sorcha, and this is Astraphobia, she can be a drag, but she's nice once you get to know her, I promise! You DO want to get to know her, don't you? She's pretty hot, and about your size, and I don't think she's ever had a boyfriend, if you catch my drift…"

Cord blinked, fighting back a blush. Astra rolled amethyst eyes and fixed the chatty blonde with a glare that Cord could have sworn would have melted adamantium…but the Ninetails didn't even seem to notice.

"I think that's enough socializing for one day, Sorcha," the purple creature growled, "Now are you going to move, Dragonair, or do I have to move you myself?"

Cord fairly leapt to one side, eyes a bit wide. He had the distinct impression that he really, really didn't want to upset Astraphobia.

"By all means, ladies, after you!" he nodded politely. "I didn't mean to delay you, really…"

"Oh it's alright, Cutie!" Sorcha grinned, reaching up to pinch his cheek as they passed, "Maybe we'll find you again later, won't we Astra?"

". . . . "

"She says she'll think about it!" the blonde nodded at Cord before dancing away from a swipe of Astra's heavy, bulbous tail.

A very, very odd pair indeed. And just what the hell was Astra, anyway? He thought he understood all the basic types his people were born into, but he found himself mystified by Astra…even fascinated. He found himself hoping that they would indeed run across one another again.

---

The blazing ember cometed down the hallway long after pummeling Cord, clipping more people and sending them spinning into walls and occasionally, one another, leaving a stream of dizzied victims and half-heard apologies in its wake. Faster and faster it streaked…until, as fate would have it, something blue stepped innocently…and fatefully…into the darting creature's path. A shocked squawk, a cry of pain, a puff of loosened feathers, and both tumbled over one another for good fifteen feet from sheer momentum before coming to rest.

Taser groaned, points of light dancing and floating before his vision as he stared up at the polished metal beams of the hall ceiling. Everything hurt, and it took a few moments before clarity returned enough for him to realize something was on top of him. Someone, rather, he noted as he peered down at his chest, though at the moment all he could see was a cloud of crimson and gold hair. Even as he watched, a snowy white, delicate hand would rise to push the mane away, revealing a pair of wide ruby eyes set in a freckled, heart shaped face.

"OMIGOSH!!" came the frantic cry, and all at once, the snow and flame creature was to her feet…hooves, rather…and had taken his hands, trying to pull him to his feet. "OmigoshI'msosososorryareyouokayIdidn'tmeantorunyouover!! OmigoshomigoshIknowyou!! I'veseenyoubeforeyou're…you're…the Captain's son!! Taser! OMIGOSH! I'msososososoEXTRAsorry!!"

"Wha'?" Taser blinked, trying to piece out the words that tumbled from the girl's mouth, the syllables all running together to form one big blurb. He stumbled to his talons, shifting and stretching the pair of shimmering azure wings that crested from his back, ensuring they were well before turning to scowl at the girl. The Captain's son indeed. To most people, that was all he was. Not Taser…just the son of someone who happened to be important, or that would become important himself someday, considering he was already being groomed to take over the station himself at some point. Nobody had asked him what he thought about this arrangement, of course…he was only interested in trying to be himself. The rest of the world didn't seem too eager to cooperate.

"EEEE!!" the Rapidash squealed, those crimson eyes going wide in horror as she pointed at Taser's face. "You're bleeding!!" Which started an entirely new tumble of apologetic syllables. Taser scowled, wiping a hand across his lips and peering at his fingers clinically. Indeed, there was the evidence, in crimson streaks across azure fingers. Funny, he hadn't even felt it.

"It's nothing," the boy grumbled, grimacing at her endless yammering. Doesn't she realize he can't understand a word she's saying?

"Omigoshomigoshit'sbrokenit'sbrokenI'msosorrysosososorry!! "

"Slow DOWN!" he barked, perhaps more forcefully than he meant to. The girl clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes shimmering dangerously. Way to go, Taser, make her cry why don't you?

"Your nose," she whimpered, "I broke it!"

"Eh?" Taser raised a hand to his nose, testing it gingerly…he felt nothing out of the ordinary and frowned, glancing to the fretting girl. "Seems fine to me…"

"But…but it's all crooked!" she protested, blinking in genuine bewilderment. Taser winced and sighed.

"It ALWAYS looks like that!" he snapped, holding a hand over it protectively nonetheless. Just what he needed. Vanity issues. The girl blinked…a blush creeping conspicuously over snow white skin.

"I…I apologize, I…"

"Forget it," Taser sighed, letting his hand fall away and ignoring the split lip for the moment. "The hell are you doing, running down the halls like that? You could have killed someone! Me, for instance!"

"I'msosorry!!" the girl shifted from one hoof to the other, fiery tail swishing in agitation, "Iwasrunninglate, I'malwaysrunninglateyouseeandI…EEE!! I ~AM~ late!! SosorryIthrashedyougottagobye!" and the befreckled thing dashed off before he could make the slightest protest, leaving him with one hand up and his mouth half open. He could never honestly say this day didn't start out interesting.

-----
Liquid black eyes would watch the docking area of the station empty as a lull came between one busy cycle and the next. Full body vinyl glittered and flashed briefly as a stowaway unfurled herself from the landing strut she'd been lounging against. A rich, glossy cerulean mane would toss back negligently as she began stretching long-cramped, slender limbs before settling gloved hands to dark clad hips. Stowing away on the transport ship had been a desperate last minute measure, and she had paid dearly for it…she would have to sleep heavily after her sustained transformation, hidden as hard frozen ice in the lee of the landing gear.

She knew very well that those who pursued her would eventually find her…even in a place so very distant from home such as this. For now, however, she would enjoy her temporary respite. Finned ears folded back slightly as the lights dimmed. All the more to her advantage…darkness was ever her friend, her shelter from those who would do her harm…it had proven its love true for her on many occasions, saving her from roving eyes and keeping unwanted attentions away. Silent as the shadows she so loved, the sleek Vaporeon stealthed from her hiding place to approach a convenient pile of metal shipping boxes piled against one wall. They'd give her an excellent foothold to the enormous condensation ducts that ran through the ship to humidify and cool it. Those ducts were large metal tubes, easy to stand in, and provided access to wherever she may want to go…they were also frigidly damp…something that appealed to her quite nicely. These ducts would be her home until some other opportunity arose…or until she was found by her pursuers. A few seconds would be all it took for the liquid creature to disappear into cool depths…and she was gone, leaving behind only a few stray droplets of melted ice.

The stowaway's presence had not gone as unnoticed as she would like to think. Somewhere quite distant from the docks, in the opulent quarters of the first class district, someone…knew. Dark lacquered nails glided smoothly through reddish purple hair, freeing it from its usual severe coif, bunned atop her head. Catlike, similarly hued eyes gazed out the plated glass window, shining with subtle glee. She could not see the new arrival, but felt her quite clearly. The newcomer was more powerful than she herself seemed to know or appreciate, and she was in such a chaotic mindset that it would be all too easy to bend the little dear however she so pleased. The Vaporeon would do quite nicely…now, nearly all the players were in place. Soon…this ship…and those within it…would be hers…

(Mwahaha! Er…sorry.)