From: Shimarisu <rachel.r@scotland.com> Subject: [PW!] Nisemon's Decline. Date: Tuesday, February 22, 2000 10:04 AM (repost) Crumbs, I am a klutz. Forgot the tag. Nisemon's Decline ------------------- "Hey, are you dead? Are you dead?" Nisemon stared at the inert trainer lying on the floor in front of him. Blood poured from a wound on his forehead, staining the Pokemon League cap and white lapels of the jacket that he'd obviously worn in imitation of his hero, Ash Ketchum. Nisemon really did not care for the clothes, in fact he was starting to regret jumping this kid and hitting him over the head with the rock that he still held in his hand. The Ditto regarded the rock with a twinge of regret. 'This is really incriminating,' thought Nisemon, and flung it as far as his strength could manage. He stared as it hit the foot of a tree two metres away, then looked back down at the kid, who was still stretched out motionless on the floor. "Are you dead?" he asked nervously, for the 12th time since the 'unfortunate accident' had occurred. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . It had all been a bit of a mess, really. After realising that Minax was holding a gun, that Doppler had fragmented into his component atoms, that the gun was smoking and the smoke appeared to be causing his current form to dissolve, Nisemon had legged it. He wasn't sure how long he had run for, only that at length he'd thought of morphing into a bird Pokemon in order to facilitate a quite literal swift flight from the scene. For some reason he'd really had to concentrate to change form, which was terribly confusing as usually Nisemon morphed without even thinking about it. But he couldn't quite envisage the Pokemon he wanted to be, and because it had been so difficult to concentrate he'd actually given up. Instead, he'd panicked to the extent that his ears pounded with the sound of his own screams, and run headlong into a public lavotory in order to hide the fact that having lost the lab coat, he was totally naked. After being beaten over the head with every illegal implement that it's possible to fit into a handbag, and being called a pervert in every nuance of every dialect known to man, Nisemon had staggered out of the ladies' toilets and into the mens'. Once there, his first instinct had been to check his reflection in the mirror. He'd spent the next half hour howling, for the image before him was that of Midori, the drug-crazed scientist who had tortured Nisemon and Doppler, right before Doppler had met his unavoidable doom. And indeed, Nisemon really did have no clue who the scientist was. So his reaction had been to bang Midori's head against the wall-mounted mirror, and watch as the blood ran in rivulets down the fractured glass. After marvelling at the blood, Nisemon had pulled shards of the mirror off the wall, and slashed frantically at the bare flesh of his arms. Why on earth was he bleeding? And more to the point, why did it hurt like hell? He'd screamed the place down for another few minutes, then staggered out of the building and into the forest. He really had to find some clothes... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'Bugger,' thought Nisemon, as he regarded the blood-stained jacket and jeans that he was now wearing. He pointed the trainer's Pokedex at himself again, and pressed the button. "Dit-to" it stammered in a practically indecipherable fashion "A shape. Shiffffting Pokey...Monnnn. This poh...key. Mon can..." "Shut up!" screeched Nisemon. "Shut up shut up shut up! You said that before!" He pressed the button once again. "Dit-to. A shhhhhhhhape....shift. Ing Pokey..." "ARRGGGGHH!" Nisemon smashed the Pokedex against the concrete of the path below his feet. "Get it right! If I'm a shape shifting Pokemon, then answer me this." He paused for dramatic effect, even though he was talking to an inaniminate object - and a very broken one at that. "If I'm a shapeshifting 'Pokeymon', then why in hell can't I shapeshift? Huh? Why can't I change back?" He wept into his bloodstained hands. They were stained with the blood of the trainer and that alone, for Nisemon had not noticed that his own blood seemed to have been absorbed back into his body. And the cuts on his arms and head had vanished… Frantically, Nisemon pulled at the trainers on the kid's feet, and slipped his own, effeminate little size 6s into them. The shoes were a mite too big, but this was hardly a worry given the enormity of the situation. He hadn't meant to kill the trainer, he'd meant to try to seduce him in order to obtain his clothes, but what else could he have possibly done after the sheer frustration of trying to turn into a naked woman and finding it impossible? "Are you dead?" he managed a final time, his eyes streaming with tears which made his long verdue tinted hair stick to his cheeks as the wind blew it into his face. He stood up, and as if to complete his slide into depravity, snatched at the trainer's rucksack while he rose, then slung it onto his back. "Uh, I don't mean to steal your Pokemon," he told his victim, realising at the last moment that the apology was ridiculous, and feeling very silly as a result. "I don't want to steal anything, but you see, I'm kind of in a mess..." With that, the effeminate young man walked silently off into the sunset. - TBCed in St. Anne thread. - Shimarisu Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/ Before you buy.