Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Through the Dark, Into the Light ❯ Dark Beginning and Dark Casting ( Chapter 1 )

Through the Dark, Into the Light

Dark Beginnings - by Kelvin's Choice

Disclaimer:

Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.

"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: kelvins.choice@att.net

     'Limbec Pirates. It's a name to give even the gods pause', my old teacher used to say. We all thought it was big talk to keep us in line, just wind. Until today.

     I didn't see what they did, but I heard it all.

     Old Man MacCreedy makes - made - the best moonshine, his Enchantress Pokèwife had enchanted the bunker/root cellar with all kinds of runes to avoid detection by the 'Revenoo'. It had become a rite of passage to sneak in, get a sip and escape. Breathing in the challenger's face or an ass-load of buckshot or rock-salt were all considered adequate proof.

     I was sure I was a man, so I was in the bunker when the attack started. They never found me, despite how close they got. I heard what they did to the mayor, the local NurseJoy and OfficerJenny. I didn't see anything, other than the runes in the walls occasionally glowing softly.

     Then the silence. Minutes, hours, days, I didn't know. I sat there among the metal tubes, the burners, and the jugs, listening to each creak, scratch and pop, and prayed it was only heating or cooling metal.

     Finally, even the metal fell silent. Still I waited, eyes straining to pierce the darkness, ears straining to pierce the silence. Finally, cold and hunger forced me from my hiding place.

     I tried not to look at the heaps of flesh that littered the landscape, concentrating instead on the columns of smoke. Especially the ones from the ships pulled up on the shore. The pirates who had attacked us had encountered something that had destroyed them. I carefully poked around the buildings, most of them were charcoal. Houses, the Pokècenter, everyplace.

     The pirates wanted to reduce this place to a memory, I thought as I walked through the ruins towards my home.

     As I headed towards the edge of town, more lightly damaged and even untouched buildings began to crop up. My house, my entire neighborhood looked that way. Some fires had burned the smaller buildings, but the small houses way out 'on the wrong side of the tracks' weren't worth their time. The houses looked fine, but I couldn't hear any of the usual sounds of people, the smells of baking or laundry. There were charred bits on the stuff hanging on some of the clotheslines, as if some moron had tried to set sopping wet clothes and bedding ablaze. In another time and place, it would have been a comical sight. The only sounds were my idiot little brother's crystal radio playing the all-news station from the nearby town, the creak and rattle of the windmills providing electricity or pumping water, the flap of laundry in the breeze.

     No laughter, no cries, no mothers yelling at their kids, none of the soft talk of teenagers who should have known their mothers could hear every word, none of the sound of an occasional Taming going on in the woods. There were sounds, just no human sounds, just machine sounds, the sounds of empty houses. The machines had no more orders, so they continued doing what they had last been `told` to do. The houses creaked and groaned, as if nervous about their fate, with their inhabitants all gone. Purposeless. Good Lord, I'm maudlin. They could all be hiding in the root cellar, or in the forest, I told myself silently, as I crept towards my house, Hey, how about that, I'm actually looking forward to a hiding for being out so long and worrying everybody. That is gonna make dad and mom nuts, me smiling all through a switching.

     I crept through my house, remembering which boards made noise and avoiding them, all the time listening to the radio reports that the Navy intercepted a Limbec Pirate assault force and destroyed it. Funny, no mention of whether they succeeded or failed to save the town's inhabitants, I thought as I listened to the stories of victory of the carrier Abe Lincoln and its squadrons of flying Pokègirls over the vicious attackers. I remember seeing one of the Navy's carriers, a huge six masted sailing vessel with over a hundred flying-types aboard. It was an awesome sight . . . just not enough to save my town, I thought bitterly as I crept around my own house like a sneak-thief. Afraid not of finding my parents and answering to them, but of not finding them, or worse, finding what the Limbec Pirates left of them.

     After almost two hours of creeping from room to room, opening every closet and cupboard and drawer with terror and expectation, I gave up. If they left, they hadn't returned, if they'd been taken away, they hadn't been brought back. The place was deserted, empty, dead.

     My last stop was the sprawling treehouse out back, hoping beyond hope that one of the neighbor kids had managed to hide there in what one local bookworm called 'Winchester Mansion in the sky'. The signs of struggle were everywhere, someone or several someones had tried to hide, or had tried to fight. All the games of `Domestic and Ferals` . . . someone tried it for real. I can imagine how it turned out. There was blood here, and the piles of rocks and the handmade arrows were either stuck in the tree itself, or gone. The walls were torn in a dozen places. They must have torn through the walls to get at the `defenders`, I thought, Or tore the defenders out through the walls. The claw marks on the tree made that more likely. None of the local Domestic-born had claws that big. At the highest point on the treehouse I looked out over the horizon. From way up here, I can see all the smoke pillars, all the destroyed buildings and farms, I can see the town is gone. Everybody I ever knew, everything I ever cared about is gone.

     In a daze, I packed up all the camping gear, tents, blankets, stove, etc. I raided the places I knew where my older sisters, mom and dad hid a little extra money. I walked to my friends' houses and took any cash there as well. I left the jewelry, any old coins. Maybe they're keepsakes or heirlooms, I told myself, although I didn't want anything left in my house, not my lucky shells, not my `baseball` cards, nothing. My dad's brother can have it all, I'm done with it.

     I headed back out. In town, I found banknotes scattered about. These I collected. Like every other kid in town, I'd been studying what I'd need for a Tamer's journey, although I never intended to take one, I looted what I needed from the bones of my hometown. When it got too dark to work, I curled up in a cell at the jail, one of the few buildings in town with a roof and walls still intact. My loot on the floor beside me, I slept my last night in my hometown, in a jail cell.

     Morning came, and a quick breakfast, a last look through the Pokècenter for any girls left in the machines, Storage or their balls. Nothing. The fire had destroyed everything. Then I turned my back on where I grew up, with the intention of never returning again.

     I walked all morning and afternoon, rarely stopping, except to eat or sip some water. I'm not really hungry, or thirsty, or even tired, I realized, I'm just numb. As it began to grow dark, it got harder to put one foot in front of the other.

     I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what I'm doing, the realization and the loneliness landed on me like a ton of bricks, Just trying to get away was everything. It had been enough to keep me moving, it no longer was. It was as if someone let all the breath out of me. My legs folded up and I collapsed in the middle of the road. I knew I should have put up the tent, or crawled out of the road, but I couldn't. I don't care if I freeze to death, I don't care if I get run over, I thought, I don't care if they shoot me as a looter. I don't care.

     He hasn't frozen to death, or gotten run over. I'm wrapped in a blanket, he thinks, Several by the weight, and I'm in a tent. He could hear breathing, not his own. So I guess some Tamer found me and stuck me in with his Pokègirls to keep warm, he thinks, I'm not sure if he did me a favor or an injury. He opens his eyes to look around. The tent's the same as the one I packed. The heart-shaped face, intense blue eyes, blonde ringleted hair and world-brightening smile looking up at me. He doesn't know what he could have done to deserve it, or the hug that accompanies it as the child snuggled against him.

     "You're chilly," is the only explanation he gets.

     He can't place the breed. Very Near Human definitely, but extremely small, he thinks, Unless it's a Chibi. In which case, all bets are off.

     No, he realizes, It's a human, a human boy! How did he get this far out in the woods, he's not from my town, and the nearest town is several days walk? Why is he treating me like a lost brother?

     The boy pulls his head back under the blankets and seems to go back to sleep.

     He doesn't seem to mind being under the covers, he thinks, He doesn't seem to mind my arms around him. Except it isn't him my head is pillowed on, it's someone's arm, and a powerful one. An Amachoke or similar I'll bet, he thinks as he realizes he feels soft breathing on his neck. He turns to look, sees the muzzle, the midnight-black hair and the curious golden eyes. That can only be one breed! he realizes, Panthress!

     "He didn't scream. I think he'll do," the Panthress says before unconsciousness claims him.

     Morning came, he somehow escaped the nightmare of the previous night. Although I shudder at the memory, he thought, Must have been quite an experience to get me to dream that. Suddenly a figure wriggled out of his grip. Ohcrapohcrapohcrap! It wasn't a dream! He started climbing out of the bedding, only to be yanked back. He didn't receive the expected slam to the ground, instead he landed in the creature's hands. He looked up at the creature's fine, full bosom, then a little higher, and froze when he looked at her face.

     I remember the 'dex says 'Panthresses are vicious, unrelenting fighters'. This one's locked in a death struggle it seems, with herself, he realized as her face contorted with rage and tenuous control. He could feel her claws extending and retracting in time with her writhing face and lashing tail. More indications of the war within herself.

     "What are you doing? Where are you going?" she whispered, because a raised voice would be the first step to a vicious murder.

     "I have to pee," he admitted, "Also the boy needs - "

     His throat was in her grip, his feet dangling off the floor. "How do you know Kris is a boy?!" she screamed, choking off any responses he could make.

     "Mother," the soft voice said, the boy laid a hand on her hip, "Someone should look after me, and it's better if you hide." The boy's tone was very reasonable and soothing. The fury drained out of the Panthress as she gazed lovingly at the boy. "I trust him," he told the Panthress as he leaned against her, "That's why I picked him."

     Her grip slackened enough to let him breathe. "How?" she asked in a too-controlled voice.

     "It's a knack, maybe a Bloodgift. I've always been able to tell, like I can tell a Domestic-born from a Feral-born. It's obvious to me, it always has been."

     "What am . . . I?" she asked so he could see her fangs and guess what use they'll be next put to.

     "Domestic," he told her. It's as good as written on her, he thought.

     She dropped him. "Go, I'll be listening. My senses may not be as good as a Tigress's, but they're still plenty good."

     He nodded and followed the boy out of the tent and into the brisk morning air.

     "She likes you," Kris confided, "That's why she's so mad."

     "I'd hate to see how she'd be if she hated me."

     "She'd tear your throat out and eat you," Kris replied with a smile.

     Okay, he thought. "So what do I do?" He turned his back to the boy as he unbuttoned his fly, but looked over his shoulder to keep an eye on him.

     "Understand she's afraid, not really angry with you," Kris told him, "She loves me, a lot. She's afraid you'll do something to take me away."

     That gives me a lot to think about, he realized.

     "What are you going to do?" she demanded as they returned.

     "Can we discuss it?" he asked. There's something odd about the boy as well, he thought, No kid his age should be able to speak and think the way he does. Is it because of what his mother is?

     She growled but sat back when the boy sat in her lap, faced her and hugged her waist.

     "I don't know what you want," he told her, "Other than not revealing yourself to League authorities."

     "Mother." Kris stood up to be face-to-face with the Panthress. "You need to tell him the truth, all of it."

     Again the Panthress's seething expression softened as she looked at her boy. She considered Kris's words, then turned to hate the other occupant of the tent. Her pose was meditative, except her tail which lashed like a snake in its death agony. "I killed the Tamer who changed me from a Tigress into a Panthress. I was technically underage, but it never stopped him. I wasn't able to win my very first fight, so he punished me and didn't Tame me." She took a deep breath and bowed her head. "No matter how I begged, no matter what I promised." She looked up at him, her face impassive, but her eyes glowed with hatred. "I didn't like being ignored, and I still don't."

     He gulped and nodded.

     "I was . . . distracted . . . so I lost my second fight. As punishment, he showed me exactly what I was missing. He Tamed his entire harem, had them all panting with exhaustion, begging him to let them be so they wouldn't die of bliss and fatigue. All the time letting me know that I wasn't going to get any." She leaned forward, claws extended, only to have Kris grasp her arm. The boy pulled it back, as if hauling on a rope, until he could cup his face with her hand. The Panthress seemed to melt. She wrapped her arms and legs, and even her tail around the boy, holding him tightly against her body. She rocked back and forth for a moment, her chin on his shoulder. When she came back to herself, she looked over the boy's shoulder. "The pattern was repeated, for the required seven times. I evolved instantly. Suddenly I had the power and ferocity he always wanted, he just expected to be in control of it. I killed him, his partners and their combined Harems. I escaped that League, and found the Limbec Pirates. I got to . . . relieve myself - on a captive, and ceased being Feral. I worked for them, as they moved through the ocean. Finally, I was used in an experiment." Her fury had worked back up. This time she set the boy aside, threw her head back and ROARED!

     Not like a lion or a puma, he realized, It reminds me of that old monster movie.

     She finished and stared at him, daring him to react in any way. "They drugged and beat the crap out of me, and they tossed me in a pit. They had caught a Zeromer. They let her/it see the beating I got, then they gave her a worse one and threw her in the pit with me. They'd hurt her worse than she could fix, so she bonded with me. Their plan. Now they had a Battle Panthress. I assume they had great plans for me, except they didn't know - or didn't care - that the Zeromer was a Pokèwoman, and she must have realized that she'd been tricked."

     The Panthress sighed, a melancholy expression. "The next time I . . . dealt with male Tamers, it didn't satisfy, I even felt regret, not much, but it was there. Then I found out I was pregnant. I think the leadership was as surprised as I was, I'm just lucky that they didn't do a thorough scan. Later, I spared a NurseJoy, got her help to deliver . . . my son. I hid that `she` was a he, but I knew what would eventually happen to any human in that camp. So I made my plans to jump ship. How convenient I was ashore when the Navy wiped out the entire strikeforce, and with a heavy carrier no less. Our `masters` won't bother to come looking for any survivors."

     "I'm guessing that Kris waved to any of the nice Navy fliers who happened past the `corpse` of a Panthress," he said, mother and son both nodded, "You know that means they'll be looking for him?" Except they didn't find me, he thought, So they can't have searched hard, or they assumed anyone they searched for wanted to be found. That's probably why they missed me too.

     She didn't look worried, she looked at her son and touselled his hair. "I want him to grow up. I want to be able to help him grow up. Not like the bastard who did this to me, or my loving family who sold me to him."

     The thought of all the people in my old hometown who could have helped . . . he thought helplessly, They're gone, because of your friends! But I'm here. So do I avenge my town by destroying you . . . or by helping you? "What happened to the townsfolk?" he asked. Did you kill my neighbors and my family? he wanted to ask her.

     The Battle Panthress had the decency to look embarrassed. She took a deep breath. "They were all killed. Some of the Pirates found out some of their old shipmates had jumped ship and hidden there. I thought it would be a good place, because of that. All I did was come ashore. I was going to round up stragglers, instead I took to the woods, hid out, until the Navy came. We went deeper in the woods, found a place to hole up until the screaming stopped. The Navy's Airedales swept the place, burned all the bodies and headed back home. I waited a day and a half until I could head out. Towards nightfall, Kris found you. We saw you had everything we needed, since I didn't even have a set of clothes. So we helped ourselves to your stuff, and you."

     During her speech, he'd been remembering all his friends, relatives, even his enemies. She didn't take part in the slaughter, but she didn't stop it, he thought, suddenly feeling empty and alone, Everybody gone, I ain't going to live with my uncle and that pack of weirdos. So what do I have to look forward to? Captive of a monster with a hair trigger, a life on the run? Even if I get away . . . there's nothing out here for me. I've never been more than a day's walk away from town. I never wanted a Tamer's journey, I don't even know what's beyond and I never cared. Hell, I don't care now. Better to just get it over with. I never wanted Pokègirl, cause I never wanted captives, now I am a captive, I don't like that any more than having them.

     "Is the Zeromer why you're able to control yourself?" he asked without expression.

     There was a flash of anger, swiftly squelched. "Yeah, I get mad and . . . it's like the mood just stops, like a balloon popping, if nothing sets me off again. I'm not going to apologize for what I am and what I've done."

     "Fine, I don't care," he told her, "I heard your old comrades slaughter my town while I hid in a cellar. I've got nothing to care about. I've got no place to go and no place to be. You do need to get him and yourself checked out by a competent doc."

     "And you know one?" she asked angrily.

     "Yeah, Doc Thompson, oh right, he got killed by your mates. I'm as lost as you are!"

     She stood, grabbed him by the throat and dragged him to his feet so he was face-to-face with her. "You need to adjust that attitude, kid."

     "Why don't you just kill me? I don't care, who'd miss me, who'd notice?" He stared at her, waiting, almost wanting her to carry out her implied threat.

     "All I need you for is Taming, you can do that with or without your tongue, or a few other pieces," she growled.

     "And what do I need you for?" he asked coldly, trying to see how far he could push.

     "How about keeping you alive?" she replied.

     "How about if I don't care? You want to kill me for the supplies, go ahead and do it." He hoped she would, as much as he hoped she wouldn't. He really didn't have a preference.

     She seemed on the verge of tearing him to pieces when her tail slipped into the top of his pants, and down. The tail curled around his dick and the tip began teasing his balls.

     He felt himself relax in spite of himself.

     "Like getting a dozen blowjobs," she purred, licking his cheek, "From girls with mink lips. I like spirit, as long as you get a better of when to show it."

     He threw his head back and gasped as the feelings coming from his crotch, feelings he'd been told abut, but never experienced himself.

     "You really think you've got nothing to live for?" she purred as she wrapped her arms around him, "I don't think you've ever been with a girl, even a Pokègirl, have you?"

     "N - n - n - no," he stammered.

     "Poor baby," she purred, nuzzling his neck, giving his throat little cat licks, "That's part of your education I'll have to correct. And I'll tutor you every night."

     He couldn't answer, the pressure building in him was unbelievable, he thought he might explode at any second. I've had dreams, but not like this! he thought as the Panthress laid him down. He almost cried out when she pulled his pants down and her tail away, but something better replaced it. He couldn't help himself, he practically exploded once she'd slid completely over him.

     Her expression wasn't angry, or even disappointed but resigned. 'I should have known better'. She pulled herself up and free of him. "One thing about you virgins, you're quick to do the deed and you're quick to get started again," she told him, "Now I want you to think about something, keep it firmly in your mind, above all other thoughts." She blew gently on his member, as if fanning a flame. He felt himself getting hard again.

     "If you pop before I've even started - " She ran a claw tip over his stomach. "While you're having such a good time, I'll make a little slit." She leaned over him to stare in his eyes, and rubbed her belly on his hard cock. The feeling of her smooth skin almost made him pop again.

     "And start pulling out your entrails." She had his full and undivided attention. "Just wind them around my finger like spaghetti." Even the feel of her hand stroking him down there didn't erase the image she'd planted. "And squeeze out the crap inside, and eat them. You'll have a gut full of blood and shit, and that's all. If that doesn't cure the problem - " She paused as she continued to stroke and harden him.

     The need to pop again drove him slightly mad, but he knew she was telling the truth, this wasn't a threat, it was a description of what would happen. If that doesn't solve the problem?! he wondered how it couldn't.

     "There's a spot - " She touched the base of his cock with a claw tip, then started pressing in, retracting her claw so only her finger tip pressed hard against the underside of his cock. "As you spurt, I press there - hard - and you'll stay hard for hours."

     That doesn't sound so bad, he thought, Why didn't she do it before?

     "It'll feel like I've filled your balls to the bursting point with pure, liquid pain, but my old Tamer was into pain, if it meant he could service his entire Harem in one night. It has to cause some problems, but he had a girl with healing powers. Something you don't," she reminded him as she settled across his hips and impaled herself on him.

     He watched as she slowly, delightfully slid up and down, watched her fondle her huge, firm breasts, pinching and rolling her own nipples, and imagining his own intestine sliding between those breasts, then between her sharp teeth, and down her lovely throat. As she began to speed up, she began to pant, her breasts bouncing free as she snarled angrily and frantically clawed the air. I can almost feel her finger down there, pressing against that spot! he imagined, I can almost feel myself `backing up` from the block and my balls expanding and exploding! Going through life permanently hard, permanently in agony, but without balls.

     She howled her pleasure, he thought about all those things more intently than he'd ever thought of anything before. His need was a physical pain, but he held on. He needed release, but he needed her permission more than anything else. The anguish of need was only the tiniest taste of what she'd do to him.

     She pulled herself free, he almost couldn't stand it.

     "Ah, good, you can learn," she cooed, "You've been a good boy, now you'll get your reward." She'd barely gotten her lips around the tip when he exploded, spraying into her mouth. "Well, you were being good, weren't you?" she teased as licked him clean, her rough tongue flicking over his member, as if it were everywhere and nowhere.

     All he felt was limp. I should be getting hard again, he thought, But all I want is to lie here. "You really wouldn't - you weren't going to . . . I mean, not while we were - "

     "What do you think?" she asked and grinned, despite all the teeth, it was not the predator's smile, but the impish grin of a teasing girl, something he had a lot of experience with, "I said 'keep it firmly in your mind', I said I'd teach you. Now you know what to focus on, when you're with any girl, even a Pureline."

     "What do you - I mean what has - "

     She took his manhood in her hand and squeezed, slightly, silencing him, making him focus. "Now, now, slow down and think. You put those pictures in your mind, hold them there, and you can outlast any girl in existence." She ran her thumb over his tip. "That's always a good thing to know how to do. Now, just accept I want to get fucked every day, and I don't want you blowing your load before I get done, or you'll have a Feral Battle Panthress to deal with. So, since you're obviously one of those idiot New Age Tamers who has to talk through the time when any Pokègirl would rather be up and dancing around, then you stick her in her Pokèball to `rest`, I'll have to get you a nice Bimbo or Kitten at our next stop. So you won't be so lonely," she cooed, then snarled, "And so I won't have to kill you to shut you up."

     "I just wanted to know - "

     "You're better off assuming I will! In fact, you're better off assuming I'll do that to you anytime to go before the girl you're with goes."

     He gulped and nodded.

     "Now I'm going to bathe, I expect both of you to be asleep when I get back." She walked out, only her tail giving away how good she felt, the rest of her was a cloud of barely suppressed rage.

     He looked at Kris, who shrugged and wrapped himself in his blankets and went to sleep, as ordered.

     He lay there, staring at the wall of the tent, trying to figure out what had become of his easy, normal, predictable, boring life.

     The ball sailed right into his glove. "Not bad, Kris," he said as he tossed the ball back to the kid. He spared a glance at the delighted mother. So different from last night, he thought in amazement at the cute, seated with her tail curled around her feet posture. She might just be a busty, black Kitten from her pose and behavior right now. He caught another stinging throw from Kris. "You've really got an arm," he said as he stepped back to open the distance. Most kids his age can't throw that hard or that far, I'm already 20 yards and walking out. He tossed the ball, then saw Kris wasn't looking at it or him. Both Kris and his mother were scanning the sky.

     "In the tent! Now!" she shouted.

     You don't have to tell me twice, he thought as he heard the drone of wings, Bug-types. We've had problems with Buzzbreasts in these woods, a good reason to stay out of them. He collected Kris as the first Buzzbreast cleared the treeline. And exploded as the transformed Battle Panthress opened fire. The silvery creature who blasted Buzzbreast after Buzzbreast out of the air seemed to utterly lack the underlying Panthress's madness. She was just mechanically targeting and shooting. The boys dove into the tent, cowering as the shooting continued for a while, then stopped.

     Then the tent flap opened.

     "Dig a fire pit, stay close to it, I'll be back!" she told them and left.

     "Now what?" he asked.

     "We dig, gather wood and have it ready when she gets back," Kris explained.

     He broke out the shovels. "How deep and how big?"

     "Big enough to bury a horse-shape Rapitaur, and as deep as your shoulders," Kris replied.

     That sounds more like a barbeque pit, he thought, If you were cooking a Second Gen. Legendary.

Kris's Mom - Battle Panthress

BATTLE PANTHRESS, the Heavily-Armed Dark Feline Pokègirl

Type: Animorph (Black panther)
Element: Steel/Dark/Fighting
Frequency: Extremely Rare
Diet: human style foods, extra meat (especially fresh and raw . . . )
Role: occupations where combat is necessary, revenger (military, bodyguard, similar positions)
Libido: Average (High 4 times a year)
Strong Vs: Normal, Ghost, Psychic, Dark, Dragon, Flying, Ice, Normal, Plant, Poison, Steel
Weak Vs: Electric, Fighting, Fire, Ground
Attacks: Claw Slash, Gatling Punch, Ki Blast, Drain, Dark Attack, Night Shade, Rocket Punch, Iron Punch, Metal Claw, Iron Defense, Harden, Nano-Regenerate, Cross Shield, Metal Sound, Repulsor Beam, Uni Blast, Meteor Mash, Heavy arms tech
Evolves: None
Evolves From: Tigress (low discipline, mistreatment, little Taming, and lose 7 battles in a row) and partial bonding of Zeromer and base type
Enhancements: Feline anthropomorph. Functional claws, nightvision, enhanced strength (x7), enhanced senses of smell and hearing, (though weaker than a Tigress'), enhanced agility and recovery time, and enhanced stealth, (can blend in with shadows), Armored, Heavy Arms, Flight, Sensors, Aquatic.
Disadvantages: Limited Active Period, Limited Ammo
Bounty (for confirmed kill): 700,000 SLC
Bounty (for reporting sighting & getting out alive): 100,000 SLC

Recommendation if you see one: Make sure you have a strong fighting-type Pokègirl on hand to fight. Try to not let yourself become visible to the Panthress as they will try to ignore your Pokègirl to attack you directly.

     In all things light there is darkness.

     Like the Penance and the Chimera, the Panthress is a dark evolution. Only this walking tragedy is especially sad, as it could have been prevented quite easily.

     There are a combination of elements which result in an evolution to a Panthress. One, obviously, is mistreatment, verbal and physical abuse. Normally, this would lead a Tigress to become a Penance. However another factor is a lack of discipline. Treating a Tigress with indifference save for when you want something, not having her train much at all, and other such lackadaisical things add to the deadly mixture. Another, even more inexcusable factor is lack of Taming. Tigresses require frequent Taming for them to function, and not Taming them often leaves them half-Feral, near savage at all. And finally, having the Tigress lose seven battles in a row. This engulfs them in rage and frustration, resulting in a dark evolution and certain death for the Tamer who abused her.

     The first Panthress was discovered completely by accident. A Tamer of the Sunshine League didn't take good care of her Tigress, letting her training slip, rarely taming her, and forcing her into fights against opponents who outclassed her greatly. When the Tigress lost her seventh battle, against a Griffon, she was engulfed in dark light, changing into a monster. She killed her Tamer for the pain and frustration she had suffered under him and murdered the Griffon and her Tamer out of sheer rage. The Panthress was caught and put down, but soon after others began appearing.

     When a Tigress evolves into a Panthress, they undergo several changes. Their bodies muscle-up greatly, especially in the biceps and thighs, and their breasts expand into the F-Cup range. Their tails grow thicker, and their fur on their arms and legs and hair turns midnight black, their eyes become gold. Their faces, if not already close to it, become more animal-like in appearance, growing a prominent muzzle, almost all have furred tail and cat ears. Their claws grow longer and while their senses of smell and hearing dull, they gain greater agility and the ability to blend in with shadows.

     Panthresses are vicious, unrelenting fighters. They will not hesitate to kill anyone they find, and when they catch a male Tamer they will torture him to death, forcing them to arousal and violently raping them first. They are considered by some to be embodiments of Mao Shin Mao's frustration and rage. It is known what makes a Panthress, and you are advised NOT to do this under any circumstances! They WILL NOT STOP until they kill their abuser and anyone else in their way. If found in the wild, do not attempt to engage or capture unless absolutely necessary. Evacuate the area immediately and contact local security forces and as many OfficerJennies as you can find. This is not a joke. Failure to do so will result in loss of Pokègirls and Tamers licence, as Panthresses are ranked to be an Alpha-class threat and a danger to anyone around them.

     Most recently, a Panthress was captured and Tamed by the Limbec Pirates, the group who did so sustaining heavy losses, showing up later as the leader of a unit of Pirates in a kidnaping raid on an orphanage. She was still having trouble controlling her rage, but was obviously Tamed due to the level of sheer control she had over herself. It's unknown how this was done and it's assumed that either a ForbiddenTech device or a psychic-type Pokègirl was involved.

     More elusive than a Zeromer is a dying Zeromer willing to bond with a Pokègirl. If such a thing happens then we have the Battle Panthress. The Battle Panthress combines the power and abilities of a Zeromer with those of a Panthress Pokègirl. Allowing for a potent powerhouse. Given that the evolution of this type of Pokègirl is extremely rare, certain conditions have to be met. One, a Zeromer has to be dying. Given that they are not known to die of natural causes we can believe this to mean that they would have to be critically injured, or some similar condition. Two, the Pokègirl to be bonded must not be the one to injure the Zeromer or be connected to the one who injured it. Three, the Zeromer must be willing to bond to the Pokègirl. When bonded the Zeromer's physical body alters and becomes armor for the Pokègirl, this armor can be dismissed and resummoned by the Pokègirl at will. The armor also varies between Battle Panthresses in that it tends to suit the wearer's tastes.

     Something like this is likely too good to be true. And is in part. When 'armored up' the Pokègirl is quite powerful, but it only lasts as long as a third of her exp. levels before needing as long to recharge.

Through the Dark, Into the Light

Dark Casting - by Kelvin's Choice

Disclaimer:

Pokemon is a copyright of Nintendo. Pokègirls and Pokèwomen come from the Pokewomon Forum at http://disc.server.com/Indices/169881.html.

"Wild Horses and Pokègirls" is the creation of Metroanime.

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: kelvins.choice@att.net

     The Battle Panthress walked into camp, two Pokègirls over her shoulders, and over a dozen under her long arms. She flung the Pokègirls under her arms into the firepit she had ordered him to construct.

     Then she stretched, ignoring or unaffected by the two Pokègirls still draped over her like a muffler. He took the moment to examine her curvy, busty, slightly muscled form. The black fur bikini, bracers and leggings make her look like a dancer, he thought, Especially one of those dancers my mom didn't want me to know about. She's got the figure for that. As she continued to stretch he got a strange notion, She's standing in front of me doing that, she has to know what it does, what it looks like . . . doesn't she? Kris's giggle from the tent broke the mood, the Panthress stared at him before he could look away. He had no clue what her reaction to him staring was.

     It was a barbeque she was having me construct, he realized, She's going to cook and eat them! A sudden transformation and a single shot set the wood ablaze, she swept the pile of rocks he'd dug out of the pit.

     "What's that for? Protein is protein. Humans used to raise animals specifically to kill them and eat them as food. What do you think happened to the fish your fellow villagers caught? They didn't spontaneously turn in to Khang-Ass-Cunt `eggs`," she said angrily, "Does that about cover the entire, idiot conversation?" She aimed a half-hearted kick at him, letting him get out of reach and scramble back towards the tent.

     "I was going to say 'Aren't those Wasps, didn't you go after Buzzbreasts?'" he replied and retreated into the tent as she advanced, "I was going to ask if you're going to eat those two as well?"

     "Of course not," she purred, "Since you insist on getting all syrupy, here's two you can moon over and get all sweet and mushy over." She dropped the blonde, gown-wearing Pokègirl and the black-haired girl in the partially dismantled purple armor in his lap. She left the tent.

     Probably to finish cooking her breakfast, he thought in disgust, She still didn't answer how she started off after Buzzbreasts, and wound up with a half-ton of dead Wasps. He considered the two injured Pokègirls, and began rummaging around his supplies when he realized Kris wasn't in the tent with him. He shook his head and tried to ignore the implications, concentrating on the two wounded girls. He realized the blonde had structures growing out of her back, it was only after he began applying the poison antidote to the numerous stings that he realized they had been wings.

     The Buzzbreasts or Wasps must have tried to chew her wings off! the thought as he tried to ignore the delicious smell of cooking meat, Okay, it's appropriate vengeance, but I'm not going to share their dinner. He injected the blonde with a dose of 'AllHeal' potion, and wished the nearest Pokècenter was closer. And that I could convince the Panthress that she wouldn't be arrested or shot on sight. Although both are risks I'd rather not take, and she'd definitely take it out on me if she even thought she'd be separated from Kris. He sighed and considered, finally deciding to simply bandage the wing-stubs, then wrapped the blonde in blankets. When he'd finished, he noted the one in the mangled armor was awake and staring at him.

     "Hello," he said, no response, "I need to treat your injuries."

     "You don't look like a Megami, so either they've been making them differently, or . . . you want to treat my injuries, you don't have to. What if I don't want you to treat my injuries?"

     "I'm guessing that you ran into a Buzzqueen or a Wasp Queen nest - "

     "Wasps," the girl replied.

     He stopped, then poked his head out of the tent. "Do you want to add another Pokègirl to your lunch?"

     "Those two?" the Panthress said, "Naw, those two are like Buzzbreasts, there's no good eating on them barbequed, they taste foul."

     He ignored that point. "So the Buzzbreasts are still out there?"

     "Sure, supper for tomorrow," she explained, sprinkling something on the roasting bodies, "You stew them, they aren't too bad that way."

     He ignored that too. When he turned back to the girls, the brunette was trying to bend the warped plates back into some semblance of order and protection. He took some of the antidote and began applying it to a large inflamed welt on her hip.

     The girl caught his hand. "What if I don't want help?"

     "I'll have my Battle Panthress knock you unconscious and I'll fix you up while you're asleep," he replied.

     "You have a Panthress!? Right!"

     The aforementioned Battle Panthress stuck her head in the tent and smiled at the other girl's shocked expression. "Your job is to let soppy here fawn and whimper and cry over your hurts and tell you about how good a Pokègirl you are, so he doesn't try it on me and I have to kill him. Now. Shut up, let him do his whimpering," her jovial tone vanished, "Or I'll tear you to little pieces, I'll still have another one. When she sees your remains, I bet she'll be reasonable." The Panthress tossed him a Pokèdex and two Pokèballs, and withdrew.

     He looked over his shoulder at the girl cowering behind him. "It's not that I have her, or she has me, as much as she has specific needs that I fulfill and she doesn't kill me, or let anything else kill me. It's an interesting relationship, and I do believe she's absolutely serious," he told the stunned girl, scanned her with the 'dex and read off her identity and type. A Battle Angel, Dark-type, a Dark Knight. The other one is an Angel. He began treating her injuries, while she sat stone stiff, staring at the tent opening. When he finished, he laid her down in another nest of bedding, then walked out of the tent.

     "They should recover." His stomach churned at the sound and smell of what was cooking in the stone covered pit. "Thank you for bringing them in," he told the Panthress.

     "Was I a good Pokègirl? Do I get a Taming as a reward?" she asked, her expression all dewy-eyed, then she frowned.

     "Only if you don't call me Master."

     "Don't push - oh, very funny."

     "Those are going to take a while. Do you want a Taming while you wait?"

     "Aww, did you miss me?" she asked sarcastically, running a claw tip over his jawline, "You're usually only offering so it doesn't interfere with your other activities."

     "Yeah, well I . . . "

     She stood and stopped, a slight crack in her 'I am invulnerable and care nothing for others' facade. "Do you have another tent? I . . . don't want to wake up your new Harem, let them heal and all."

     "Yes, it's small, but I can have it set up in a little bit."

     "Kris, go help him," she said, "I want it done and over with."

     Kris gave a look to his mother that made it clear he understood what was really going on. "Yes mother," he said in a tone that would have gotten anybody else dismembered.

     Ten minutes later, the boys had the tent up. Thirty after that, she had her itch scratched and was back to tending her supper.

     I wonder if she'll want another, he thought, While she says she despises the talk and cuddling after, I think she wants it, she just doesn't want to want it.

     The Dark Knight had joined them for `dinner`, took one look at what was being served, and she concentrated on the Pokèchow.

     He looked at the pile of heads, including the Wasp Queen's. Shows that our Panthress at least has an eye to the future, he thought.

     "Tomorrow, it's the Buzzbreast nest," she said as if discussing her social calendar, "Should I bring in the Buzz Queen? It won't be a problem. You can rescue her from her terrible condition."

     "If it isn't too much trouble," he replied airily, "I wouldn't want to deny you any food."

     "Surely this," Vonny, the Dark Knight, said, indicating the barbeque, "Is enough meat to last you a while."

     "True, I'm going to kill them all for fun. They really don't taste good and the reward's the same."

     The Dark Knight seemed to settle in on herself. Her armor still damaged and disarranged, which meant she couldn't retract it, and it really didn't protect her all that well. The lack of protection made her act more naked than the exposed skin would. "I don't know why you don't just run away," she muttered under her breath.

     "Dearie." The Panthress took one of the mangled plates between her fingers. "I am right here." She bent it back into the semblance of the correct shape. "And while my hearing isn't as good as a Tigress's." She selected another plate, then another and another, each time using just her fingers to correctly repair them. "I can still hear, and it is impolite to talk about someone as if they aren't there." She released the last reshaped plate, turned and smiled at the Dark Knight. "Don't you agree?"

     The smaller Pokègirl gulped and nodded.

     The Panthress patted her shoulder, her claws scratching on the restored armor. "I'm glad we had this little chat."

     He and Vonny exchanged worried glances, as the Dark Knight withdrew her armor to let her body complete the repairs.

     Tyrone watched his Pokègirls carefully film and document the destroyed Wasps' nest. "This is what I was talking about!" he told them as they filmed or wrote, "This is what we've been looking for, real killer instinct, a real challenge."

     "You realize that whatever did this, was a terrible combatant, his Alpha, a Scarecrow named Worry, told him, "Taking it all into account, you have a real challenge here."

     "Of course!" he assured her, "We have the advantage, you girls have never failed . . . except that Widow of course, there running away was the best answer."

     "I just want you to understand the challenge we may - will be facing, if we pursue this."

     "We have to take risks," he replied, "The rewards are too great to pass up."

     "My poor Master smells a real payoff," Worry said as she reached up and patted his head.

     "We didn't find any indications of what did this, no fur or scales, so I'd assume some armored or rock type," Ter his chief tech told him, her antennae marking her as a Ka-D-Bra.

     "All of these were killed by projectiles," his Mistoffeles, Koko, told him as she held up the riddled Wasp Queen's headless body, "Something with a lot of ammunition, or a lot of anger."

     "Or both," Worry added, staying close to Tyrone.

     "We have to find whoever or whatever did this. Before anyone else runs into it," Tyrone pronounced.

     "You forgot that the Navy destroyed a Limbec Pirate ship near here, a few days ago," Ter pointed out, "It could be survivors of that."

     "They weren't known to be good citizens and you'd have to be a perfect idiot to stumble into a Wasps' nest," Miko, his Herolee said.

     "This place was attacked on purpose, with malice aforethought," Ter exclaimed, "This wasn't Eek-O and Koko getting together with Cat for a prank. This took a lot of firepower."

     "Pot calling the kettle black?" Koko teased.

     "Widow? Mantis? Chimera? Matron with a toothache?" Worry asked.

     Jer, his or rather Eek-O's Mercury slid out of the remains of the hive. "Someone took the trouble to consume all the honey, royal jelly and larvae, so it was probably Feral, whatever it was."

     "Not a Demon-Goddess," Eek-O said with a smirk and a shudder, she knew her own Feral state, the reason Tyrone had her in the first place, and the reason Tyrone made sure Eek-O had Jer, "Or one of them." Meaning a Neo-Iczel. "That doesn't leave a lot."

     "Tracks," Lyn, said, his Psi-a-Knight stood, her red, gold, blue and white armor glittered in the few rays of sunshine that penetrated the forest canopy. Her gleaming reminded everyone why she was the lighting expert. "Great anger, but it was need and love that drove the slaughter, and there was another battle going on when the other ones attacked. I get two very distinct traces, but interconnected. Like a Delta Bond or Recognition, but not exactly."

     "So we have a real mystery on our hands," Tyrone said gleefully, rubbing his hands together, "Let's get moving then, this is a mystery I want to deal with. Maybe we can profit from it."

     His girls all smiled, ruefully, and fell in line with him.

     The Angel was still fast asleep, still with the tattered remains of her wings in bandages. He noted that Vonny was awake, and smiling at him. He slipped over to her, answering her smile. He admired her body, petite, her breasts were a pert handful, rather than head-sized like the Panthress's, but she seemed a lot less threatening than `his` other girl, but just as challenging.

     "I wonder if I can make you wake her up," he teased.

     "After all she ate," Vonny whispered back, "I doubt anything would wake her." The girl reached down and her hands caressed him, making him hard. "But let's find out."

     "I - " Suddenly an arm pulled him away, he felt the Panthress beneath him, her arms wrapped around his chest, her legs and tail trapping his legs, his head pillowed on her breasts. The Dark Knight noted the one part left very exposed by his posture, and padded over.

     "Stuffed with all those Wasps, she must be so soft and squishy, like the finest feather bed," she teased as she stepped over the pair. She suddenly glanced down and saw the Panthress's tail had wrapped around her ankle and was inching up her leg. "I think I'll take advantage of your vulnerable conditions," she told him with all seriousness.

     "Oh woe is me," he quietly lamented.

     She lowered herself onto him. He felt the Panthress's overstuffed belly mash slightly, softly, under their weight, especially as the Dark Knight settled her weight on his hip. He sighed at the lovely feeling. But the Panthress is going to be grouchy when she wakes up, he thought, Grouchier. He watched Vonny ride up and down on him, as he groped her pert breasts. He heard the Panthress grumbling as Vonny pumped up and down, the rubbery resistance of the Panthress's spongy, springy belly made the experience wonderful.

     "Wha?" the Panthress asked groggily, at that moment Vonny let out a little cry with her orgasm. And all Hell broke loose.

     The Panthress tossed the lovers off with a ferocious roar. He watched in dread as the Panthress pinned the much smaller Dark Knight to the ground, her hand on Vonny's throat, her claws bared, Vonny's legs pinned by the Panthress's.

     "You think that's funny? That all I am is a sex toy?" the furious Panthress roared, waking Kris and terrifying the others.

     Vonny shook her head fearfully, too terrified to speak or struggle. She tried to avoid setting the Panthress off further.

     "Maybe . . . " The Panthress drew her claws across Vonny's bare breasts and stomach, Vonny tried the suck her stomach away from the claws. "Maybe I'll tear you up, make you so hideous and disfigured that no man would ever look at you. Your lover won't mind. I'll pluck out his eyes," she growled, "Only his hands will tell him what a monster he'll be Taming. Is that what you want?"

     Vonny shook her head, still too afraid to speak.

     "Why not, you think Pokègirls are toys for your amusement? Why shouldn't I have some fun?" the Panthress asked with a happy smile.

     He felt Kris gripping his arm, cowering behind him. He glanced back at the concerned, but not yet frightened boy.

     "Maybe I should show you some of the things I saw the other pirates do," the Panthress purred to the still naked Dark Knight, "Sometimes I think they hated human females more than males."

     Before Vonny could respond. "You won't, you need us, and you're smarter than that," he told her.

     "I - need - you -?" the Panthress asked, looking at him and smiling, nearly laughing, "What could either of you do that I couldn't? I fight better, I'm stronger, I'm smarter - you have no advantage over me in Taming or battle."

     He ignored Vonny's frantic head shaking, but noted the Panthress's tail was almost touching Vonny's crotch, just the tip waving. But if it was touching, he cast the thought aside as it did and Vonny's eyes went wide as the fought not to squirm and struggle, I swear, that tail is smarter than the rest of us combined. "You need us, because you want to protect your son," he told her as he walked closer, "As long as you don't hurt us, you know you wound hurt your son. All you've given us are bruises and scrapes. You've run your claws over both of us and not even a scratch." He knelt next to her, he knew her eyes were on Kris, not him. He pulled her wrist up off Vonny's belly, and held her claws against his throat, ignoring Vonny's frantic glances.

     "You kill us, you tear us into tiny pieces, to eat or leave for scavengers, at the back of your mind, you'll wonder when you'll do the same to him. As long as we're alive, you've guaranteed yourself you won't strike out against him."

     Both Pokègirls stared at him, seeking something.

     "You need to avenge the insult, you need to prove you are Master, there has to be a better way," he offered.

     Vonny's sudden squirming and frantic cries broke the tableau. Even pinned by the Panthress, she suddenly began writhing for all she was worth. The Panthress pulled her hand from him and pinned the Dark Knight's arms above her head. She looked at her captive and saw what her tail was doing.

     "You like that, do you little one?" she purred with menace as Vonny squirmed under the tail's ministrations. She began stroking the smaller Pokègirls breast with her own larger tits. "How's this?" The Panthress slid her tail in, not plunging it in with force, but wriggling it in.

     I know that tail can bend and twist like wire . . . but - he thought as he watched nearly a foot and a half disappear into the gasping Dark Knight.

     Vonny, eye's wide open, stared at the roof tent as the Panthress moved her tail in and out perhaps an inch, but faster than the eye could follow.

     He knew the tail inside was coiling and twisting, rubbing and tickling Vonny. I can't even guess, he thought as he watched the Pokègirls carefully, Except Vonny just lies there. If it hurt, wouldn't she have screamed at least once?

     Vonny closed her eyes, moaning softly as if afraid to break the mood. "Please, please, let me finish," she gasped, stretched out and nearly motionless in the Panthress's grip.

     "Oh no, our `Master` is right. You must learn respect. Would you like me to stop?" the Panthress taunted.

     "NO!" Vonny shouted, struggled for a moment against the Panthress's greater strength and leverage, then lay unmoving. "Please! Please - Master - please let me finish," she begged pitifully.

     The Panthress smiled evilly, putting her fingertips against Vonny's throat. "In my own time," she purred.

     He could easily see the distress on Vonny's face and realized the Panthress's tail would slow almost to a standstill, then a few brief strokes or twists, then slow strokes or no movement again. Keeps her from climaxing, he thought, Some of the Tamers back home called it 'riding the edge', they said there was no better torture to use on a Pokègirl. Keep her almost at climax, but never let her there, always the promise of Heaven. He watched Vonny whimper and squirm slightly, only to have the Panthress shift pace and position.

     He was almost ready to object when the Panthress's tail plunged in and out almost too fast to see.

     Vonny's eyes bugged out and mouth opened as her whole body arched. The Panthress yanked her hand away from Vonny's throat. The Dark Knight squeaked and then collapsed as if all her bones had liquified.

     "Bastard," the Panthress said as she raised herself off the insensible Dark Knight. She looked at him, and mastered her seething rage before speaking. "My last `Master` had a technique he called 'Quandary', you block much of the blood to the brain while holding the Pokègirl on the edge, then at the moment of climax, you release it. One, it intensifies the orgasm tremendously, that's what he told us, and the other girls confirmed it; two, it shuts the Pokègirl or Pureline girl up, by rendering her unconscious, when you want to go to sleep, which he told the other Tamers. He promised me Quandary, when I finally won a fight, and made me watch when someone else won, and I lost." She hung her head, her anger spent and with it all her energy. She couldn't rekindle it, even with that memory. He walked around behind her, kneeling down when he was directly behind her. She turned to look at him. "Going to `reward` your `Good Pokègirl` for not killing your little fuck toy?" she asked sarcastically.

     "No," he replied truthfully, "Trying to get my offering and bribe in before you demand it."

     "You are so full of shit," she told him tiredly, "That - "

     He rolled to a stop in front of Kris, thrown there by tail and arm. The Panthress was in full combat mode, facing the Angel who'd abruptly awakened and began screaming as she jumped to her feet. He felt the hackles on his neck rise, as the Panthress's fur stood on end from the noise.

     The people tortured by the Limbec Pirates didn't sound that bad! he thought as he tried to keep Kris behind him, Kid wants to see what's getting murdered.

     The Panthress looked around frantically, assuring herself Kris was safe, then leapt at the screaming Angel. The pair went down in a tangle, the Angel's screams changed when what was left of her wings touched the tent floor. The Angel rolled over until the Panthress was beneath her, not really fighting but still screaming the whole time. The Panthress grabbed the Angel's head, trying to force her mouth closed or break her neck, trying to shut her up. The Angel looked into the Panthress's eyes.

     And fell utterly silent. The change was chilling, even more than the screaming had been.

     The Angel stared at the Panthress. The Panthress stared back. All else was silence, as if everything feared to make a sound that might break the spell that the noise and the silence had woven.

     The Angel wormed her arms around the Panthress's waist and shoulders, while the Panthress wrapped one arm above the Angel's wing stubs and one below, holding the Angel tight against her.

     The Angel whimpered once, then broke into uncontrollable sobs, laying her head on the Panthress's shoulder. The Panthress rocked the tearful Angel as gently as he'd seen her treat Kris, and almost no one else. "It's all right, it's all right," the Panthress soothed, holding and rocking the Angel. The Angel clutched the Panthress and continued to sob softly.

     He watched and considered, I thought Pokègirls didn't Recognize each other. He walked towards the pair, figuring Kris was safe from the Angel.

     The Panthress saw his approach and shifted, lifting the Angel's shapely bottom in the air. "It's all right, you can trust him," the Panthress assured the Angel.

     Quite a compliment, he thought as he entered her, feeling a warmth very different from the Panthress's or Vonny's. He slid in and out slowly, trying to deal with her fear and uncertainty. Taming is supposed to reassure Pokègirls of their place in the world. I wish it worked the other way 'round as well, he thought.

     He walked out of the tent. Kris was helping keep him on his feet. "They seemed to like it," he told the boy who was leading him to the river to wash off.

     "There is more to the situation that you don't know," Kris told him, "The Zeromer's memories didn't go to the Battle Panthress. The nanites knew the Zeromer had been tricked, so they moved the memories to the fertilized embryo and adjusted it to be able to hold them."

     "The dead Zeromer . . . rebuilt you?" he asked, trying to steady his mind and body, unsuccessfully.

     "Redesigned," Kris explained, "The effect was to give me memories that aren't mine, and the Battle Panthress didn't get the extensive experience that would have given her a greater advantage than the powers."

     "I hope you'll teach them to her."

     "Of course," Kris said, "I love my mother. I just need to understand how the memories link into normal experiences. Like, beyond 'I love my mother', I don't really understand the other words. I think I will . . . eventually."

     "Ah," he said, "I don't understand." He plunged into the cold water and surfaced gasping.

     "Nor do I. That's the problem. That's why I can't offer it all now. Maybe later."

     He nodded and finished washing off before returning to the tent.

     Tyrone MacGonigal whistled while he walked, the even dozen beautiful girls around him, some as point guards, others as flankers and then the rearguard. Some sang along with him. My greatest joy, and my greatest sorrow, the Harem Master thought, For all their beauty, photogenic faces and bodies, such wonderful talents, they all were `allergic` to grease paint and the bright lights. Nothing I can do can convince them to perform, rather than do what we all do. I can't convince them that this isn't their true calling. He considered the insane successes they had enjoyed. "Today we shall achieve a greater victory than any before!" he announced, and they broke into such a beautiful chorus of 'A Star is Born', he nearly wept. He took the teasing in good spirits. After I retired as a Harem Master, I found my true calling, he thought, I guess blood will win out. He let his girls continue to `play` this way. Too bad I can't even convince them to record, the world needs such inspiration. There is so little beauty, so many threats, and so little heroism in the world. But people can be shown it . . . . He gave up the argument. Then he saw her, he knew she was the one.

     Completely ignoring the warnings of the others, he charged towards her. I've never failed, no matter the opposition, no matter the tactics, me and my girls have always worn down anyone! Let the lesser lights take the easy path, and let them fail. Those that could stand their ground, they shall strive, and anyone who could stand their ground against me is worthy, he thought, Besides, my girls know the drill. I draw them out, see what they can do, then the girls find weaknesses and needs we can use.

     Worry, his Alpha, had caught up to him. Lyn was in the air. Eek-O and Jer had already flanked the target on one side, Koko and Babs on the other. Ter stood back with the reserve, ready to send it wherever it was needed, and to record events. To anywhere, ha, more than one potential was stunned by Harumi 1 dropping on them from above.

     "You look like you can fight!" he announced as he got within arms reach. Another reason I do what I do, he thought of his talent for being so unnoticeable he was practically invisible, until he called attention to himself.

     The black-furred Tigress had him by the throat and up against a tree an instant later, her claws driven into the trunk. "Who the Hell are you? Where did you come from?"

     He watched as she noted Worry, but hadn't classified the Scarecrow as a threat, and couldn't detect the others. Temperamental, he thought, But I can use that. "Can you roar?"

     "Can I roar?" she repeated the question as if she found it delicious. The ear-splitting sound had all the high tones of a puma, with all the bass notes of a lion's roar. Topping all was the Pokègirl's absolutely ferocious expression while delivering it.

     "Perfect," he shouted as he hugged her, knowing he had her now, "Marvelous! Wonderful! The way you sell it is just perfect." The Pokègirl's mystified expression he'd seen before, but he couldn't stop himself when he was on a roll. "The claws are a great touch."

     The black Tigress glanced around and immediately changed into a sleek, silver-metal armored beauty.

     "Even better!" he cried, "How long can you hold that form?"

     "Long enough to put paid to you and all your girls," she growled low and threateningly.

     "Great! Terrific! But save it for the paying customers!" He looked around, spotting Worry, and a few others. "Didn't I tell you? She's a natural! Oh, I am so blessed, no one can pick'em like Tyrone." He paused, ignored his target's perplexed expression, his interest elsewhere. "Please tell me you're filming this!"

     "Of course!" Ter called from where she stood, behind a battery of monitors, cameras and microphones, "The gold eyes really stand out against the black fur and the silver armor. The standard 'dex doesn't even tag her as a Panthress!"

     "Wonderful!" He grabbed her muzzle and kissed her directly on the armored lips. "You're perfect! Anybody ever tell you that? Well it's true, take it from an expert!"

     The Pokègirl had a vaguely worried expression on her face, as if she no longer understood the world and her place in it.

     Good, I can use that too! he thought, hoping the girls were ready for the next stage of the softening up process.

     "We got some others!" Eek-O called as she, Jer, Harumi 2, Cat and Babs approached, escorting a feisty little Dark Knight, a tall statuesque, wingless Angel, and a kid with rugged boyish good looks, and a little boy.

     The Pokègirl grabbed his head and turned it to face her. "If you hurt him - "

     "Here." The blonde Megami-sama had practically teleported to the armored girl's side, now strained on her tiptoes to set the young kid on the Pokègirl's shoulder. The armored Pokègirl had to pull her claws out of the tree she had Tyrone pinned to, to hold the kid with both hands. The armor vanished and the feline Pokègirl's expression softened as she hugged the little boy protectively.

     He looked at Ter, hoping desperately that she was getting all this. She returned a look that indicated she was, and was offended by the inference that she'd miss something like that.

     This is pure 'AWWWWWwwwww!' he thought as he pulled the old silver and gold cross from his shirt, kissed it with reverence, Thank you 'I Am'. I will do right by her. Have I ever let you down? He returned the cross to its usual place of concealment. He believed in one of the 'Old Gods', because while things were always hard, for him and his girls, the victories they wrung from the universe had made him, and his ancestors, legends since the fall of Hollywood. He saw all of his girls were caught in the 'AWWww' moment of pure WAFF. The dichotomy is perfect, he thought gleefully, Fierce warrior, tender mother. It all fits into the message I have to send. To tell everyone that Pokègirls are loving symbiotes to Humanity. Fierce in defense, tender and loving. I can even slip in the redemption aspect, this really is perfect. He looked at the two new girls, the Angel and the Dark Knight. Pretty, but not too pretty, each with the serenity or the sense of fun that makes real beauty. The boy will be difficult. Not handsome enough to be a leading man, but too photogenic to pass up. "Say, are they all yours?"

     "More like we're her's." The boy indicated the black Tigress.

     Tyrone nodded. He had only one real prejudice, and it was a big one. Anyone or anything that got in the way of him making a new star. He was absolutely relentless in that pursuit. The only reason he could allow his girls their decision, without badgering them into submission, was that they had helped his search for stars and they reached people his manner intimidated. Like our new star, he thought as Babs and Lyn babbled on about kids, how to feed them, how to dress them, discipline, schooling, and the black Tigress nodded as she listened. Tyrone smiled. Gotcha! All I have to do is lower the net.

     "Who are you?! You don't act like a bounty hunter," the boy asked.

     Tyrone was stunned speechless for the first time in years. She may be in charge, but you're the brains, Tyrone thought before he could speak. "Bounty hunter - me -?" He looked at his equally stunned Harem. "Us -?"

     Eek-O started it, with Cat a close second. Within a moment, all of them were laughing. The bell-like laughter sounded so lovely.

     "No," Lyn replied, as always, the first to gather herself.

     Girl needs to let herself go occasionally, Tyrone thought as he fought recurring giggles at the idea of him playing bounty hunter. "No, I'm a talent scout. For Sunshine League Unlimited-class Tauromachy." He threw his arms wide to encompass all of them. "I'm going to make you all stars!" he said as if it were a simple truth, and obvious.

     "You can't make her a villain!" the shoulder-mounted kid insisted.

     "Oh, of course not little one! She's going to be my new Hero Toro, she's already got the mask. Think of the fame, the fortune . . . they fainted. Why do they always do that?"

     "Have you ever looked at yourself when you give that speech?" Harumi 1 squeaked, "You'd scare Typhonia!"

     Worry punched him on the arm hard enough to get his attention. "Just once, will you let us tell somebody. The way you operate, you scare the newbies half-to-death, it take weeks to get them over it. Not everybody grew up in show business like you!"

     "Sorry," Tyrone said, hanging his head in guilt. Looking at the people sprawled at his feet. The Angel and black Tigress protecting the little boy, the older kid and the Dark Knight almost like a garnish for the delicious centerpiece. Even unconscious, they're perfect, he thought happily. "But they are perfect aren't they? Ramonè's new foil, the kid . . . he can be his patron in disguise."

     Worry pulled her hat down over her face and ears.

     "What, tell me I'm wrong!"

     "You're not wrong. You're just hopeless," Eek-O said as she, Babs and Lyn carried the girls and the boys to the tent, while Koko and Yoko were setting up their own tents.

     "WHAT?" he shouted defensively.

Tyrone MacGonigal's Harem

Harumi 2 - Armsmistress
Lyn - Battle Angel [Psychic](Pokèwoman)
Cat - Cheshire
Eek-O - Demon-goddess
Miko - Herolee
Ter - Ka-d-bra
Babs - Megami-sama (Pokèwoman)
Jer - Mercury (Eek-O's Partner)
Koko - Mistoffeles
Worry - Scarecrow (Alpha)
Yoko - Venuswhore
Harumi 1 - Wigglymuff

Others:
Angel
Vonny - Battle Angel [Dark]
Kris's Mom- Battle Panthress

ANGEL, the Avenging Pokègirl

Type: Near Human Metamorph/Very Near Human
Element: Flying/Magic (Celestial)
Frequency: Very Rare
Diet: human style foods, vegetarian
Role: aerial scout and shock troop
Libido: Average
Strong Vs: Bug, Fighting, Normal, Dark
Weak Vs: Electric, Poison, Water
Attacks: Gust, Psi-blade, Mana Bolt, Shield, Dazzle
Enhancements: Limited Metamorph - can manifest wings or dismiss them at need. Affinity: Magic. Efficient digestive and immune system. Low feral state resembles that of an Ingenue.
Evolves: Fallen Angel (major trauma/bad experiences; Dark Stone will greatly increase the chances, but isn't needed)
Evolves From: any Blessed Pokègirl (Angel Stone)

     Angels are something of a mystery. Not because they set out to be mysterious or anything, but simply because they tend to be aloof or quiet. Though not shy, Angels usually only speak when they feel there is something that needs to be said and have great difficulty with such things as "small talk" or "chatting". In spite of this, Angels are very caring and prone to sudden displays of affection, that can sometimes catch their tamers off guard. Even when they are not given the Alpha position, Angels look after their harem-sisters and will rebel against cruel, abusive tamers, often resulting in the death of either the Angel or the tamer. Fortunately, this barely ever happens, since it is almost impossible for cruel or abusive tamers to catch an Angel.

     Although Angels make fine warriors, they loathe violence, considering it evil. A necessary evil, perhaps, but an evil all the same. As stated before, they will fight in the defense of someone else, but persuading them to fight for any other reason is usually difficult.

     Recently, certain sections of the Church of a Thousand Gods are trying to spread the belief that Angels aren't 'just' Pokègirls with wings, but messengers from the Divine. Such priest or priestesses claim that their dislike of violence, their protection of the weak and the defenseless and their almost indiscriminate care for life are examples the Divine wants all to follow. So far, no Angel has commented on these beliefs one way or the other, although they do tend to smile whenever they hear about them.

     Physically, all Angels are beautiful. They look like gorgeous regular women, but with the addition of very soft, very large, white wings. However, due to their aloof nature, this flawless beauty often seems like that of a statue - perfect, but not quite real. Their hair is usually long and blonde, although some Angels have been known to cut it short or dye it in a different color. Those Angels have never given an explanation for this, but presumably they just think it's pretty.

     All Angels wear clothes and, in fact, insist upon it. Any tamer who tries to force an Angel to be naked outside of taming can count on a very lengthy argument about the inherent immorality of public indecency. Taking away their clothes doesn't help either, since Angels are capable of taking clothes out of thin air (nobody really knows how, but this is probably done by magic). The type of clothes they wear speaks volumes about the Angel's mindset. An Angel that wears near-transparent robes that would be befitting of Paradise is likely to be more caring of others and will have difficulty understanding why people can be cruel or evil. An Angel wearing 'street clothes', on the other hand, will likely assume that most people aren't exactly the purest souls around and will have come to the conclusion that the meek really do need all the protection they can get.

BATTLE ANGEL, the Dark Knight Of Steel Pokègirl

Type: Very Near Human, Metamorph
Element: Steel/Dark
Frequency: somewhat Rare
Diet: varies, but mainly human-type food
Role: armored warriors
Libido: varies from Low to High
Strong Vs: Dark, Dragon, Electric, Flying, Ghost, Ice, Normal, Plant, Poison, Psychic, Rock, Steel
Weak Vs: Fire, Ground
Attacks: Blur, Dark Punch, Dark Kick, Shadow Shot, Shadow Strike, Dark Blade, Dark Blade Mark II, Midnight, Shadow Walk (only within Midnight effect), Harden, Kick, Punch, Quickturn, Cuddle, Glare, Leer, Call Me Queen, Slice n' Dice, and Rage, Slash, Cut, Carve, Parry, Deflect, Bonk
Enhancements: Minimum of Speed x 4, Armor x 4, Strength x 6, Endurance x 2, Agility x 2
Evolves: none known at this time, speculated to evolve to Berserker in unknown conditions
Evolves From: Ingenue with a Steel Coat (Trade Item)

     A Battle Angel is the ultimate in armored Pokègirls in terms of speed, firepower and cuteness, once they are equipped with an item and they start down their development path, it is nearly impossible to change their secondary element.

     A Battle Angel has two forms: armored, in which she looks like an armored knight in form-fitting armor; her second form is her naked body, the form she is tamed in. With concentration, the Pokègirl's armor folds and retracts into her body, where upon she looks exactly like a normal human girl. Most keep their hair long, interestingly, when they are armored, their hair is as tough as their armor. They are not restricted to being fully armored or naked, but with practice can select what portions are armored and which aren't, allowing them to appear as if wearing a bikini, shorts and a shirt, or merely showing their face, or anything in-between. If surprised, attacked or distracted they instantly revert to their fully armored form. Generally, their Libidos vary from individual to individual, and often depend on their attitude towards their Tamer. Most Battle Angels have a favored type of hand-to-hand weapon that they seek to be armed with, some extend this to a particular weapon that has special meaning to them.

     After transformation from an Ingenue into a Battle Angel, she has to be equipped with an Evolution Stone or she'll become a Steel/Normal type. Once equipped, she'll undergo a secondary 'evolution' path, much like an Eva. Their Feral state is relatively mild, merely intensifying their dominant personality characteristics, Steel/Ghost types become more timid, Steel/Fighting types become even more aggressive, etc.

     The armor of a Dark Knight is typically flat black, flat gray or other dark colors, the styling tends to be figure hugging and either simple or very baroque. Their hair likewise is of dark color. They often decorate their faceplate as if they were a Make-Up Artist Goth, or with a terrifyingly, inhuman image. They are often depressed and driven, sometimes to the point of melodrama or self-parody, seeking always to prove themselves. A Tamer who is able to get past their cynicism and get close to them will help bring out their wry or dry sense of humor. They are relentless, even obsessed, in the pursuit of enemies and bettering their fighting skills. They get along remarkably well with Zubutts, Golbutts, Sidekicks and Foxgloves, but not Vampires or Vampiras.

Tauromachy

     There are three tiers of bullfighting in the Sunshine League. The `Highest` is broadcast worldwide and has a major following, even far from the Sunshine League. Called 'Sunshine League Unlimited-class Tauromachy' or SLUT, it is carefully scripted and choreographed (if you like your teeth where they are, never call if fake) performance that any fan of Pro-Wrestling would recognize and enjoy.
     The 'Bulls' are large and powerful Pokègirls and are generally brawny, but slower and clumsier. The 'Matadors' are generally smaller, more agile Pokègirls and humans, who depend on speed and agility to win their battles, or lose them.
     There are rivalries, requited and unrequited love, affairs, spurned love and vengeance, heros, fallen heros, villains, redeemed villains, codes of honor, vendettas, favorite good and evil 'matadors' and 'bulls', etc. Everything in a good soap opera and the idea that 'everything is settled in the ring' (but isn't always) makes it equally popular with men, women and Pokègirls. The players often rise and fall on their popularity and the best stunt coordinators and special effects wizard (sometimes literally) make the top-tier battles spectacular.
     Photogenic Tamers and Pokègirls are often employed as bit players, some have become such fan favorites that they become major players. Photogenic is different than beautiful, they want people who can be easily recognizable as heartless villains, or 'monsters with a soul', or 'the ugly duckling with a heart of gold.' Rivalries are hyped, the Greek Tragedies are spun out for the audience who of course know more than the players.
     The famous battle of 'Las Filles de Mao' against the famous Bull 'The Golden Avenger' was the most widely watched event in SLUT's history. That they caught at least part of it, was arguably the only thing that Cologne of the Joketsuzoku and Gendo Giovanni agreed on in a decade. (That they only watched it 'For the commercials' was another, but we won't get into that).
     The battles follow the traditional model of the Picadors, then Banderilleros testing and wearing the 'Bull' down. In some cases this is where the real battle is, the Matador is almost an afterthought. Finally, the Matador faces the Bull with little or no backup. The cape of course is a necessary in this style, although they are rarely just red anymore, often emblazoned with the Matador's crest, some insulting comment, or `magic runes`. The sword is more likely to be ceremonial, the symbol of victory or defeat, or mercy. When the Bull is a 'good guy' and the Matador and crew are villains, there is a strong 'Masked Wrestler' aspect to the battles. Often the battles are draws to submission, occasionally they are 'to the death', when one of the players wants to retire or reinvent a character. Although the dead have been `raised` by dark arts, true love, etc. So even death is not forever. It is a wild and crazy world to let people look into.

     There are farm teams, which are more local, less well-written and spectacularly staged, but they are more athletic/martial arts contests than acting, they also provide a training ground for various starlets hoping to get good enough for their big break into the Big Leagues. At all levels, the players and support personnel are well-trained with excellent health and insurance benefits. Sometimes these are very necessary, despite the best precautions and intentions. Of course the cape would be necessary here as well, but are plainer, often the traditional red, note: red capes have no more effect on Pokègirls than they do on humans. The sword may be more than merely ceremonial.

     The only major drawback is that many people get more ideas about species behavior here, than from the Pokèdex and other legitimate sources and authorities.