From: Adrian Tymes (wingcat@pacbell.net) Subject: Re: [PW!] Return to Maiden's Peak Newsgroups: alt.games.nintendo.pokemon Date: 2000-09-17 20:58:35 PST Continue wrote: > Adrian Tymes wrote: > > Continue wrote: > > > Adrian Tymes wrote: > > > > [a forgettably cheesy Princess Bride ref] > > OOC: Ehh, at least it was about one one of the parts of the movie that was cool > enough to always make refs to. That makes it non-cheesy in my book. [So, the horde of visiting rattatas at my doorstep won't like it? *Now* you tell me. ^_^;;;] > All the Dragonite could do to respond was to nod. Another few seconds > passed before he came up with "So, want to kill some time at the > festival?" Mimic thought for a bit, then shrugged. "Why not? No in mood to be depressed any more." Memuyo blinked, trying to puzzle that statement out. Depression was a mood, so how could one be in a mood to be in a mood, unless it was a meta-mood, but... Drake and Mimic were almost out of sight before Memuyo noticed. He ran off after them. [Insert hours of random fun here] Drake leaned back against a tree, wondering about the last booth they had visited. The booth owner was a bigot and a jerk, driving away many customers with his extreme eccentricities. Apparently, anyone who was not only a human, but a male human of a certain skin color, was unfit to play his game, or in his opinion be anything but a slave. The police were considering throwing him out as his protests rose in volume, but according to the laws in effect, the most they could do was fine him repeatedly, no more than once per hour. At about fifty minutes since his last fine, a customer had shown up, his first in quite some time. Said customer played the game and won, taking away a prize. Shortly thereafter, another customer - slightly different, but within the required parameters - showed up, won, and took away another prize. Before long, the booth owner was out of prizes, and had to start giving out cash. At sixty one minutes, a female golduck asked to play. The booth owner, apparently having rested his tongue even as he watched his prize collection dwindle, took out his anger on the newcomer, attracting the police yet again...only this time, he was a bit short on funds. Drake did not have to look to see the smiles of Officer Jenny, Officer Jenny, and Sargeant Jenny (leader of the festival's security detail) as they hauled the protesting owner away. Then again, counting the coins Mimic had deposited in his hand made for a more than acceptible distraction; Memuyo was counting the coins they had sold the prize collection for. "Nice job, Mimic." "Not do so bad yourself, Drake." "You could buy a good fraction of a bike with all this." "But fraction no good without rest of bike. No work, no can ride." "...whatever." Memuyo loaded a few coins into his charm. "Mimic have to wonder. Run into Sabrina more than usual, since run into you." Drake shrugged. "I wouldn't be suprised if she is keeping an eye on me. I *am* running one of her investments. But it could be just random chance, like she said." "Mimic hope is. No is only gym leader see today." Drake lifted an eye, to see a spike-haired, squint-eyed man jogging towards them. From the height, it obviously was not Slate. "Hey *huff* guys! *puff*" Brock skidded to a stop, then leaned against the same tree Drake was using for support, being careful not to touch the dragonite, and caught his breath. "Sabrina says you're opening a delivery service." "I am." "I was wondering if you could do me a favor." He held out his hand, palm up. "A couple trainers left this in my care some time ago. It nearly tore up my gym, and just now I almost lost it. I was wondering if you could track down the trainers and give it back to them." Drake frowned. "I'm not a private investigator..." "Sabrina says your friend knows them: Seth and Aerie." Drake opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. #Wasn't Aerie...# Glancing towards Mimic, what he saw of the ditto's reaction confirmed it. "What...*did*..." Drake could hear the strain in Mimic's voice to speak properly, to avoid drawing suspicion, though Brock would assume mere incredulity if he even picked up the tone. "...they leave?" Brock gestured to his hand. "This." His empty hand. Drake peered at it. "Thin air?" Brock glanced at his hand. "Great. It's up to its tricks again." With a little effort, he pulled off what at first appeared to be a lump of fake skin, then gelled into an extremely pleased tiny ditto. "Just before it dissapeared on me, it jumped into a blue flash. Oak was with me at the time; he thought it was a time portal, until I found this pokemon again a few days later. Come to think of it, maybe it was a time portal, just a few days ahead...but Oak thought for sure it lead several years into the past..." #Drake...Mimic not sure how or why, but *that* Doppler! Mimic sure of it!# Drake frowned, apparently just examining the ditto. #Isn't Doppler dead? Impostors notwithstanding.# #Mimic no believe brother die. This...fragment, have Doppler memories and personality. Traumatized, so no longer is independent entity, but have all knowledge brother did.# TBC?