From: Karnivax <karnivax@my-deja.com> Subject: [PW!] Second Homecoming Date: Tuesday, November 23, 1999 1:30 PM Errr...just try to ignore Espio. He *is* delusional, after all. ^^;;; --SECOND HOMECOMING-- Part 1 by Karnivax "Why is it that *I'm* the one who has to drag you two around now?" the annoyed white Charizard snorted to his passengers as he rocketed in the direction of Cinnabar Island. "What's wrong with that Aerodactyl of yours?" "Espio, you're a better transport than Grendel," Kyle Richter answered. "You have a lower top speed, but you never get tired." Espio had no need to flap his wings in flight; he merely used flame jets fired from the soles of his feet as propulsion. "Well, I didn't need a crappy little H.M. to show me how to Fly," Espio grunted. "You made me lose my Dig attack for no reason other than these invisible 'rules' you keep babbling about. *Now* what am I supposed to do against rock or electric Pokémon?" "You're supposed to retreat and let my Machamp or Nidoking deal with them," Kyle shot back. Espio turned to look at his passengers. He hit Kyle in the head with a mild flame blast. Kyle coughed up a puff of smoke. "Pfaugh." Cathode the Pikachu looked up with amazement at Kyle's now-blackened face. Jessica, who was sitting behind Kyle, cried, "Are you all right?" "Jess, this is a world where Nurse Joys and Officer Jennys run rampant. This is a world where people can pull paper fans and frying pans out of their asses. This is a world where an attack powerful enough to slice a building in half can't even draw blood when used on a living creature. Of *course* he's all right," Espio snapped. "Espio, you speak as if you think something is wrong with everyday physics," Kyle commented. He shook his head vigorously, and when that ceased, Kyle's head no longer showed any signs of damage. "How come English and Japanese are the predominant languages here? Why doesn't anyone know what country we're in or what continent we're on? Why can't we agree on a single unit of currency?" Espio queried. "It's like we're all just characters in an amateur novella written by some lazy, brown-haired, blue-eyed, soda-guzzling teenage hack in another dimension who's in his quaint suburban house right now, sitting back in his comfy papasan chair, thinking of what to make us say and typing it all up in a Microsoft Word window on his crappy little 686 I.B.M.-compatible." "That was awfully specific," Jessica noted. "That's all a load of crap, Espio," Kyle grunted. "Since it seems that you've been living under a rock, the country we're in is -" Suddenly Kyle stopped in mid-sentence and pointed down. "Hey, there's our stop." Cinnabar Island was finally in view. Espio sighed and started to descend toward the volcanic island below. He landed not far from the Cinnabar Island Laboratories, where Kyle's father worked. Thanatos the Gengar, who was a much faster flyer than the Charizard, was already on the island when Espio arrived. Since the whole point of the visit to Cinnabar was to talk to Kyle's father, the team entered the lab. Inside, Kyle released Daggoth the Nidoking in hope that some air would clear the Nidoking's head of delusions. Daggoth looked at the scientists wandering around the lab and remarked, "Ah...more potential drones for my rapidly developing hive." A number of the scientists were occupied studying a Lapras that was calmly sitting in the center of the lab, while another Lapras was sitting off to the side all by itself and babbling nigh-unintelligibly in what sounded like a Cockney accent. Daggoth jumped up on top of a metal stool to make himself seen, then shouted, "Daggoth - King of Nido, and your future Hivelord - demands that you wayward drones bow down before him and submit yourselves for inspection! The strong and obedient among you will live a life of hive labor under the just rule of Daggoth. The weak and insubordinate among you shall be culled from the hive and swiftly obliterated...Daggoth has standards to maintain, after all." Several of the scientists turned around upon hearing Daggoth's alien-sounding voice. A few laughed at the diminutive dinosaur. The calm Lapras smirked. The talking Lapras went right on babbling to no one in particular. "Insolent maggots!!!" Daggoth thundered. "This affront will not go unpunished! You!" He pointed at one of the people who had laughed, a lanky grey-haired male scientist. "You will serve as an example to all who would dare disobey Daggoth! Behold the terrifying and deadly power of Daggoth's venom!" Daggoth leapt off of the stool and charged at the man with head lowered. He then stopped inches in front of the scientist and repeatedly poked him with the venomous horn on top of his head. The horn failed to even punch a hole in the scientist's uniform. The ticklish scientist started laughing even harder. "Give in, damn you!" Daggoth demanded, as he desperately searched for a weak spot in the scientist's defenses. Eventually becoming bored with the Nidoking's display, the crowd of scientists in front of Daggoth dispersed and resumed work. Daggoth collapsed, winded from having used so many Poison Sting attacks. "The carapaces of these drones are remarkably strong," Daggoth gasped. "Even Daggoth's mighty horn could not pierce their chitinous armor! They must be some sort of advanced strain of drone. Daggoth shall have to search for more primitive drones...yes..." Figuring Daggoth had stirred up enough mischief, Kyle beamed the Nidoking back into his Pokéball. "For a creature that held his own against the Pokémon Resistance, an army of grey-robed zealots, a few talking Ditto, a few martial arts masters, a few shapeshifting humans, a Persian with a killer Pokéball, a psychic cockroach, Mewtwo, and us all at once...Daggoth sure is a wuss," Espio commented. "I don't know why you even release him." "If you can think of a better way to move him up in experience level, I'd like to hear it," Kyle replied dryly. Suddenly Kyle's father entered the room. "I *thought* I heard your voice," Professor Richter said to Kyle. "Welcome home." The Professor took a quick look at Espio. "So...I see your Charmeleon evolved. Hopefully his mental health has improved..." "Like it ever will," Espio sighed to himself. "Well, ever since he evolved, he hasn't made a single attempt to take his own life," Kyle pointed out. Espio perked up upon hearing that. Perhaps his condition really *was* improving... Then the Professor asked the question that Kyle and Jessica knew was inevitable: "Are Torrasque and Atropos all right? I notice they're not outside of their Pokéballs." Kyle was silent. Jessica filled in her part of the answer: "Atropos is doing well, thanks." The only reason Atropos was inside her Pokéball was that Jessica was reluctant about breaking the news to the red Scyther that her fiancé had not survived the fight against the dreaded Vorge. "Dad, did you hear about the Vorge battle by any chance?" Kyle finally piped up. "How could I not? It was all over the television and the papers. Why do you ask?" "We...kinda got involved in the fighting," Kyle slwoly replied. "And Torrasque...he died saving us from Vorge." --SECOND HOMECOMING-- Part 2 by Karnivax A hush fell over all of the scientists in the room. A coffee mug crashed to the floor. The Professor put one hand on Kyle's shoulder and told him, "I'm sorry..." "Is what's left of Torrasque still with you?" one of the scientists callously asked Kyle. "His DNA should still be in good enough shape for us to take a sample and bring him back." There was a long pause. "Torrasque wasn't proud having been a test-tube hatchling," Kyle irritably told the scientist who had made the suggestion. "He didn't like having no real family. He didn't like being unable to fit in with fellow Scyther. He didn't like knowing that his intelligence had been just given to him like a birthday present. Throughout his whole life, even though he knew he was artificial, he struggled to be as real as possible. At *least* let him be real in death." The scientist who had spoken up looked thoroughly guilty at that point. After another long pause, Kyle informed his father, "Dad, the whole reason we came back here was that we wanted to give Torrasque a proper funeral. We were wondering if you -" "Of course I'll help," the Professor responded. "Just stay here on Cinnabar for a while. I'll set the whole thing up..." "Well, one of our über-Scyther is gone, and the other two evidently lost their way somewhere along the line," said a voice unfamiliar to Kyle or Jessica. "Jim, I must admit that I'm starting to regret this investment." Professor Richter looked surprised at the mention of his first name. A business suit-wearing, black-haired man who was probably in his mid-forties entered the room. "Diedrich, whatever rumor you heard regarding genetic engineering as an exact science was greatly exaggerated," Professor Richter said to the man. "Dad, mind telling me who this guy is?" Kyle queried. "My name is Diedrich Starke," the man responded coldly. "The benefactor for the long project that spawned Atropos, as well as your beloved Torrasque." "But you mentioned *three* of these so-called 'über-Scyther' as you were coming into the room," Jessica noted. "Who's the third?" Diedrich smirked. "Who, indeed?" Then he headed over to check on the Lapras that was not saying anything. "Is this your latest attempt to fulfill the commission I gave you, Jim? Seems odd that you would choose a Lapras, considering I asked for a Scyther." "Doctor Fuji wanted to look into what gives Lapras its legendary telepathic abilities," the Professor responded. "So we got our marine unit to catch as many Lapras as they could on a single expedition and bring them here. They caught two. We wanted the Lapras to learn English to make things easier for us, but that part's proving difficult. The Lapras you're looking at never says anything. And the only English that the Lapras off in the corner has hung on to is the English it's heard from watching the boob tube." "Live from New York, it's...no problem!!!" the talking Lapras rambled. "Hyperkeratosis? Symptoms: persistent, itchy, crispycrunchytenderflaky crust!" "Ah, but look at the intelligence in the eyes of this one," Diedrich said of the silent Lapras. This Lapras, who recognized praise when she heard it, held her head up high. "How much do you want for it?" "I'm sorry, Diedrich, but we're going to return that one to the wild. Lapras are very much endangered, you know." While Kyle listened attentively to this exchange, Jessica went to check out the Lapras that was talking to itself. "You're welcome to buy the other Lapras, though. Since it's already been pretty well warped by exposure to the human world, it's not likely that it's going to be able to return to its school. We were planning to auction it off." Diedrich Starke went over and looked at the talking Lapras. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," the Lapras babbled. "They're germs; they deserve to die...but they don't take American Express." "This abomination is hardly worth blowing money on," Diedrich snorted. "I'm thrice divorced, and I live in a van down by the river," the Lapras informed Diedrich, as if to solidify the man's opinion. "I shall return, Jim," Diedrich informed the Professor. Diedrich headed for the exit. "If your men don't have a super-Scyther that works the way it's supposed to for me by the time I come back, I'm cutting off your funding. Good day." "Gen, gar gen!" commented Thanatos as Diedrich left. Espio responded, "You said it." "You originally made Torrasque and Atropos for *that* creep?" Kyle asked his father. "Yes, it's true," the Professor responded. "That man wanted an ultimate fighting machine of his own. About twenty years ago - long before Mewtwo was made - Diedrich had already hired a team of geneticists who could splice human and Pokémon genes together. He was satisfied at first with a Scyther that his team created. *Supposedly* it was born with physical strength that rivaled that of a Dragonite. But unfortunately for him, the Scyther had been given too much human DNA. Over a matter of days, Starke's creation gradually became more and more human until its immense strength vanished and its Pokémon DNA was reduced to an infinitesimal trace. Frustrated, he put the Scyther- turned-human up for adoption and fired his team of scientists. "Then, about six years ago, he sort of 'commissioned' us to continue his research. Making a Scyther with very high intelligence proved easy for us. But making a Scyther with immense strength proved far more difficult. We produced Torrasque, who was intellectually strong but not any physically stronger than your average Scyther. "And just this year, he revisited this place and told us to try again. We decided to go by a theory saying 'the female of the species is more deadly than the male,' and hoped a female Scyther would appease Starke. We created Atropos. Physically, she's a bit stronger than Torrasque. But she wasn't strong enough to please Starke. He's starting to lose his patience." "What happened to the Scyther that Starke's team made?" Jessica asked. "He found out that it was adopted by some family up north," the Professor responded. "He went to Fuchsia City and held Bill's whole family hostage. Starke demanded that Bill do whatever it took to lure the Scyther-turned-human into his Telepods and turn it back into a Scyther. To save his family, Bill had to comply with Starke's demands...but Bill's Telepods didn't do their job perfectly." "How so?" Jessica wondered, as she noticed the Professor's story becoming hauntingly familiar. "The Telepods turned the Scyther-turned-human into a sort of 'were- Scyther.' From then on, the person was still human most of the time, but they underwent temporary transformations into a black Scyther whenever their adrenaline level rose to a certain point. Even in Scyther form, however, this were-Scyther's physical strength was still simply average." "But that's exactly what happened to -" Jessica suddenly cut herself off. "Wait a minute...did you say *black* Scyther?" "Indeed I did. Bill sent photographs of the creature." _Then I'm not the only were-Scyther out there?!_ Jessica thought. _But who else..._ "When the cops caught Starke, no one could bring themself to press charges," the Professor went on. "Bill knew that these very laboratories are heavily reliant on Starke's funding. If Starke goes down, the Cinnabar Island Laboratories go with him. Starke's a criminal genius, really..." Kyle then asked, "So what are you going to do?" "Only thing we *can* do," came Professor Richter's answer. "We're going to make one more attempt to fulfill his commission. And if we fail this time, we're all out of jobs." "If you can't pull this off, Dad, no one can," Kyle said, trying to be reassuring. Then he turned toward the exit. "Come on, Jess. There's some stuff I need to pick up at home..." "Hold on," said Jessica. She gently patted the babbling Lapras on the head. "Professor, how much are you asking for this Lapras?" "The bidding would start at six hundred dollars," the Professor responded. "Cheap for a Lapras. But we can't afford to keep it around here." Jessica reached into her jacket and removed her wallet, which looked to be on the verge of explosion. She dug through the wallet and pulled out seven hundred-dollar bills. "I'll buy it for seven hundred." The Professor looked inordinately surprised - surprised that a teenage girl would carry that much money on her person, surprised that she was offering more than the base amount needlessly. The Professor whispered to Kyle, "You'd better hang on to her." Then he said out loud, "Sold." Jessica gave the Professor the seven hundred dollars, and the Professor gave Jessica the Lapras's Pokéball. "This concludes our broadcast day," the Lapras announced. When Jessica beamed the plesiosaur into its Pokéball, the creature was singing "The Star- Spangled Banner." Now, before you go thinking that I'm going to break a rule and have the scientists actually make a Scyther that's as strong as a Dragonite, let me tell you now that the scientists will fail miserably. And before you go thinking that I'm going to break another rule and make the Cinnabar Labs lose its funding and shut down, let me tell you now that that ain't happening either. Y'see, with the proper theatrics, the scientists can convince their benefactor that their next "super- Scyther" is a lot stronger than it really is... --K * A * R * N * I * V * A * X-- "Our wretched society is so made that those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing a new road." --Voltaire Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/ Before you buy.