From: Bandraptor (email@example.com)
Subject: Re: [PW!] Neo Genesis Evangémon
Date: 2001-02-04 12:44:07 PST
> "There's a Pokémon around here, Panopticon, I can smell it,"
>Shrapnel replied. "And I need something for me to sharpen my Metal
> Blizzard weighed the options. _Persian, perrr? <or should I go now?>>_ She realized that this might be her only chance
>to get to the promised land that was Johto. _Perrr, perrrsian... <I go, there will be trouble...>>_ She glanced at the imposing Steel-
>type. _Persian, perrrsian. <>_
> She did not have time to make a decision. Just then, Shrapnel
>looked underneath the ramp.
Blizzard grits her teeth, then flashes the Scizor a grin that barely masks her
agitation over being discovered.
Shrapnel responds by pinning the Persian's tail to the ground with the tip of
an open pincer, and dragging her unceremoniously out into the open. She
considers taunting the wild Pokémon, telling it that it has absolutely no
chance of defeating her; but decides that this would simply be a waste of her
time. Instead, she spreads her wings wide, and snaps her free pincer open and
shut several times, "Fight me."
Blizzard takes a seat before the imposing Bug-type,
Shrapnel cold cocks her before she can finish this statement, then stomps off
after Panopticon, scowling, "My abilities are completely squandered on this lot
of weaklings. I can only hope that the wild Pokémon in Johto provide more of a
"Calm yourssself, my dear," The saurian's slit eyes get a faraway look--but
only for an instant--as he fantasizes about the day when Shrapnel and her
siblings will gut the meddling Jessica Sullivan, "I can sssee that you are
eager to move againssst our enemiesss...and I can assssure you, we will sssoon
dessstroy all thossse who oppossse usss. But firssst, I mussst rehearssse
thisss ssscene." He marches purposefully towards the shaded area where the rest
of his Pokémon, and much of the tech crew have set up camp, fishes a dog-eared
script out of a large, cardboard box, and starts towards his fellow actors,
mumbling his lines under his breath.
"Oh, cruel irony." Ransack the Scyther spits in disgust, "We're devoting our
lives to a cause that he himself considers a secondary priority, at best."
"You should be more gracious..." Bombshell says in a tired voice, as if they've
already had this discussion many times before, "Panopticon took us in. He
accepted us when nobody else would. We owe him our loyalty, if nothing else."
"Indeed." Shrapnel brings one of her razor-edged pincers dangerously close to
her brother's face, "And as you can see, loyalty is often rewarded. You'll
never evolve into a Scizor, unless you--" Shrapnel nearly recoils in pain, as a
horrific Screech permeates her tympanum.
"Persian!" Blizzard charges from behind, and throws herself at the slow-moving
Scizor, knocking her to the ground. That done, she begins to jump up and down
on the opponent's back in a very unrefined manner, She
grabs one of Shrapnel's impossibly skinny arms in her jaws, and shakes it
around violently, trying to rip it off as a prize, She somehow manages, despite the full mouth, She feels the muscles of the arm tensing between her teeth, as
the still-unscathed Scizor pushes to her feet, <...apparently be sleeping with
something that knows Recover...>
Ransack smirks, and nudges the brooding Bombshell with his elbow, "She might
not be too far off base. The way Panop tells it, Mom's whored herself to half
the Pokémon kingdom."
Bombshell barely glances at her brother, then lets out a needlessly heavy sigh,
"You act as though you're *proud* to be a bastard..."
"Better 'n a sheep like you and Sis!" Ransack saunters over to his struggling
Scizor sibling, and swings a scythe in front of her snout, "What's the matter?
Need someone to put the cat out?"
Ignoring him, Shrapnel brings one of her heavy claws around, pries the
offending Persian from her arm, and drops her to the ground. "I take it you
still want to fight. I hope you weren't expecting me to be impressed--valiant
or craven, you're nothing but experience points to me."
"Purr," Blizzard's body crackles with electricity, as she
charges a Thunderbolt attack,
"Hold it right there!" The corpulent Stevon Schpielbunk scoops Blizzard from
the ground, and carries her away, before Shrapnel can mince her body up like
catnip. The director holds the large feline out at arm's length, and examines
her from all angles, visually appraising her. "You're perfect!" He exclaims
excitedly, "No, you're better than perfect. You're Purr-fect! I want you..." he
pauses dramatically, "To be a part of my new movie!"
Blizzard considers this proposal, then narrows her eyes.
"Gaffer!" Schpielbunk gestures towards a harried Raichu, who is using its
Thunderbolt attack to power the stage lights, "We could always use an extra
generator. Of course, if you were to sign on now, I'd expect you to accompany
us at *least* until we get to Johto..."
"Persian..." Blizzard shrugs, deciding that even the most dehumanizing post is
worth accepting, if it will help her get to Johto.
"Excellent." Schpielbunk drops her abruptly, "You'll be my Best Persian! And if
we ever need to test gradation, my Persian Girl as well. Now remember--as a
member of the stage crew, you're expected to remain low-key. You'll receive no
praise, no audience recognition...but if anyone on the set screws up, be it the
actors or the caterers, it'll be your neck. Say, that gives me an idea for
another movie! I'll get Sudowoodo Allen to play the neurotic technician, with
Sylvester Stantlern as his bumbling-but-incredibly-handsome sidekick..." He
walks away, formulating his idea.
Blizzard waits until he's gone, then struts off in search of her mantid
"friends," eager to brag about her new job...
-Beth, of the ever changing sig.