XD Victini is awesome.
Warning: The PG13-rating is not for sex jokes or gory action, but for parodying a touchy event in recent American history. If it offends you, feel free to call me a cold, heartless monster.
*
ElegantShipping // Leafeon & Glaceon // PG-13
Keba really hated Gira right now.
If only she hadn't insisted that the three of them split up for this vacation in Middle-Earth. She seemed to be under the impression that since misery loved company, it was only natural that the craziest and mind-screwiest adventures happened when they were together. As such, she had proposed that they should all go their separate ways for a while, and meet up later on when the portal to their home world was due to reopen. When he'd protested, the Gardevoir then made an alternate proposal involving his tail, Mount Doom, and a screwdriver.
Gira could be very convincing when she needed to be.
As most of the tourist locations were already fully booked, the trio had drawn straws to see who would go where. Keba, of course, had been unlucky enough to end up with Minas Morgul, which not only sounded dreadfully distressing but was sure to make him ill from a severe lack of sunlight. It did give him some amusement when Gira ended up with Mirkwood, though. From the look on her face it seemed that she, too, understood the irony in sending the fair maiden into the land of elves. He only wished he could somehow sneak behind her to watch
that unfold.
Chia the Wynaut would be heading towards the mines of Moria. Gira hadn't been particularly worried about that, although Keba certainly had been. After all, such an adventure was sure to end with a great deal of pain and bloodshed, product of an epic battle between her and a Balrog. One of those would be a terrifying, mysterious, and seriously underestimated creature, and the other would be just a Balrog. He felt rather sorry for it.
But as for
him, he would rather be watching that battle than having to deal with
this right now, even if he
was seated next to a very pretty Glaceon who had introduced herself as Glinda. Because if that separation hadn't happened, he wouldn't have had to hurry around all the time to get to three different connected flights, or feel serious nausea and anxiety whenever his plane took off or touched down, or have to deal with the current hijacking incident going on.
"Attention, passengers!" A strange voice was crackling through the speakers, almost blocking out the crackling of lightning as they flew through Mordor's sky of ominously black clouds. "This is your friendly terrorist speaking! We are currently at an altitude of four thousand, eight hundred ninety-three feet, heading east by southeast to our final destination. We will be arriving in approximately thirty minutes, at which time this plane to crash fatally and dramatically into Minas Morgul. If you would prefer an alternate method of death, please remember that there are a limited number of parachutes beside the escape hatch, and try not to curse at all the tears I made in most of them. I worked hard on them, you see. Thank you for your attention, and we hope you enjoy the limited amount of time you have left. Please try not to panic too much."
Naturally, much panicking ensued.
"Aw, no you didn't!" somebody shouted angrily. "Too soon for that, fool, too soon!"
"Too soon?" the voice replied inexplicably. "My dear little runt, it's been nine whole years. And personally,
I think that the genocides and holocausts and massacres and wars and collapses of civilizations that all cost millions of lives should cause more shock and outrage than a little plane crash. But that's publicity for you. Any other overly outspoken victims?"
"This is an outrage!" a Lucario yelled, glaring up the aisle at the closed door separating the passenger cabin from the cockpit. "I have half a mind to go up there and beat him to a pulp!"
"Very heroic of you, New Bus," the voice from the cockpit said dryly. "And I suppose
you know how to fly a plane?"
New Bus turned pale and said nothing.
Keba groaned and slid down further in his seat. "Great," he moaned, covering his face with his leafy green ears. "Just great. I hope Gira's happy for sending me to my death. I'm going to give her such a hard time about it when I come back as a vengeful spirit that can only be vanquished by young weirdoes with a Technicolor van and a catchy theme song, or by older weirdoes with an ambulance with a makeover and an even catchier theme song, or by some little kid or young woman who talks me into leaving everybody alone and basically brainwashes me, which is an oxymoron if you think about it, because souls obviously don't have brains, although how they can remember who to haunt after death is beyond me."
Glinda sighed and shook her head. "Keba, Keba, what are you saying? We'll all live."
"Doesn't look like it." He glanced out the window, where the hellish landscape of Mordor could be seen beneath them, and swallowed hard, covering his face again. Why did the ticket people always put him in the window seat?
"But it's true." Her eyes narrowed cunningly. "I'll make sure of it."
He peeked curiously over at her from between his ears. "How?"
She didn't answer right away, instead glancing over her shoulder before saying in a low voice, "I'm an ice witch."
"A nice witch?"
"An
ice witch. Although, I'm not cruel, and I didn't mean to imply that I was … you see, Keba, when I evolved at Ice Rock, a mysterious god blessed me with the power to manipulate ice as I desire. He – or she, I can't truly remember which it was – left me no instructions, but departed instantly. Since that day I have searched for that lonely god, while using my powers for good. I must keep it a secret, however, since I once made the mistake of summoning a blizzard to freeze a den of thieves, and the townspeople tried to burn me at the stake." She sighed, lowering her head so that her long ears drooped past the sides of her face dramatically. "It has been a lonely time."
Keba blinked. "… That's interesting," was all he could think of to say.
"Thank you," Glinda told him. "Now, I must stop this terrorist, lest I pay for it with all our lives in the wreckage of Minas Morgul." She stood up, stretched the kinks out of her legs, and looked over her shoulder at him. "Follow me, Keba. I will need your help in defeating him."
"Uh …" Keba blinked again. "I don't think so. You see, I don't know anything about magic, so there's no way I can help you cast a spell or summon a blizzard or something. Although, I don't think you'd need my help anyway, since most ice Pokemon are perfectly capable of summoning blizzards without any help. Which is interesting, since none of
that is considered magic …"
"Keba," she said sternly, pointedly ignoring that last observation, "I did not say you had a choice in the matter. You will come with me whether you like it or not."
She whipped her ears around, summoning an icy breeze that lifted the Leafeon off of his seat. She then hopped into the aisle and strolled briskly towards the front of the plane, and Keba, though he struggled to stop hovering, couldn't stop the chilly breeze from carrying him along behind him. Most passengers failed to notice them, being either overly panicky or broodingly reflective; the few who did notice them watched them cautiously, hoping they weren't about to do something stupid.
Only too soon they had reached the door separating them from what appeared to be certain doom. It was clearly locked shut, but Glinda, looking utterly unfazed, stood on her hind legs, placing the front ones on the door and concentrating.
"S-surely you can't be serious!" Keba protested, teeth chattering.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Keba, if anyone's sure about anything around here, it's me. And don't call me Sirius."
The door abruptly slid open. Smiling to herself, Glinda padded inside, Keba trying and failing not to hover after her.
The cockpit wasn't a mess. Controls weren't ripped out, buttons weren't smashed, the forward window wasn't cracked, and the walls weren't full of bullet holes. In fact, the only thing that suggested something horribly wrong was going on was the human pilot, bound, gagged, and tossed in a corner. He was making a valiant effort to free himself, but it wasn't working, because he was just a human.
"Why hello there, inferior guests," the hijacker said cheerfully, swiveling his chair around to reveal his features: long, blue, snakelike, his head winged and horned, his neck and tail dotted with sparkling orbs. "Come to visit my lair of conquest, have you? Very thoughtful. I am Bernie, the Evil Dragonair." He puffed out what passed for a chest, allowing himself an evil smirk.
"Isn't that an oxymoron?" Glinda observed casually.
Bernie blinked, deflating. "A what?"
"When one situation or person is in blatant contradiction with one of its attributes," Keba explained, still twisting in midair. "Like this, for example. Dragonair aren't evil: they're supposed to be very peaceful, helping to calm storms with their supernatural weather abilities and preferring to avoid trouble when they can. An Evil Dragonair is an oxymoron."
"Oh? Well, you may believe what you like, my leafy friend, but I am still evil! As evil as an evil being can dare to be evil, that's how evil I am!"
"Um, that was a rather structurally awkward sentence," Keba remarked cautiously.
"Yes," Bernie agreed, suddenly all coldness. "Yes, it was. And I suppose that is why everyone I come across must mock me for having a fifth-grade education. You all laugh, feeling oh so pleased about your fancy caps and gowns and flimsy diplomas and PhDs compared to my lost life of broken crayons and red grading stamps, never once considering that perhaps life was not as pleasant for me as it must have been in your cushy three-bedroom homes with the fireplace and the dog and the and the jovial father with his newspaper and the sweet plump mother fixing up a sautéed roast every night, while I was forced to watch my father's brains drip from his skull as the tax collectors laughed to themselves and squabbled over the still-smoking gun, leaving me with the terrible responsibility of supporting my extensive yet steadily dwindling family as the leaves shriveled and died and the snow howled in a terrible storm …"
He trailed off dramatically, gazing out the window at the smoky clouds outside.
"Holy crap," Keba breathed, misty-eyed. "Are you serious?"
Bernie smiled at him. "Nope! Ha, you idiots actually believed that? It's one of the most clichéd Tragic Villainous Backstories™ in the history of everything! Now, it's been fun screwing with you fools, but I've got a plane to crash, so if you'll just let me destroy you fairly in an unfair fight, how about we—"
He abruptly stopped speaking, realizing belatedly that Glinda had been charging an icy white orb of tremendous power this whole time.
"Oh, sh—"
She nodded sharply at the dragon, ears flapping decisively, and the magic icy orb whistled from in front of her face, through the air, and into Bernie's skin as it slammed him against the ground with enough force to rock the plane itself ever so slightly; as it did, it exploded into a flurry of enormous blue snowflakes that solidified around him, gradually encasing him in a thick layer of ice.
Naturally, it was impossible for him to move.
Keba and Glinda blinked at him.
He completely and utterly failed to blink back.
"HERO TIME!" New Bus shouted heroically, bursting into the cockpit and swinging his fists around stupidly. "Put your hands up, you fiend! I'll drive the plane myself before letting you keep it in your grubby, slimy little paws – oh, he didn't kill the pilot. Sweet!"
And the two Eeveelutions simply watched as the late Lucario stepped over to the bound human, rubbed his chin for a moment, and then punched him hard in the face.
The pilot jerked awake. This was a perfectly natural thing to happen, for nobody wants to be punched in the face twice by a Lucario. "Huh? What? Where's the – who're – what's my—"
"Bad news, driver!" New exclaimed obnoxiously. "If you don't get over it, we're all going to die!"
The pilot glanced blearily out the window, groaned, and rubbed his temples. Clearly he was not having a good day.
Keba sighed. "Hooray, we've finished with this snake on this plane, but I'm still hovering. Glinda, could you put me down?"
*
When at last the slightly woozy pilot had managed to land safely at the airport near Minas Morgul, the passengers were only too happy to disembark, Keba most of all. He stepped onto the sweet, sweet ground once more, and at that moment he vowed never to ride a plane again. From now on it would be strictly foot travel, trains, cars, buses, bicycles, motorcycles, boats, horses, unicorns, tanks, giant seahorses, teleportation, inter-dimensional portals, and any other mode of transportation not involving flight.
Bernie was nowhere to be seen. The droves of armed forces that had arrived to apprehend any ill consequences were baffled at this turn of events. Keba wasn't, of course. It was only natural that the villain should escape justice and even logic, regardless of such situations as being frozen solid in ice, on a plane with parachutes only operable by opposable thumbs. New Bus, who as the designated hero had taken all the credit, was trying to convince everyone that Bernie had been somehow killed by a nonlethal blow and been reincarnated as himself, but almost nobody was idiotic enough to believe that.
The Leafeon sighed and shook his head. He missed bright and sunny days that weren't ironic.
"Heading somewhere, Keba?"
Somewhat surprised, he looked over to see Glinda approaching him, her luggage rolling along on the tarmac behind her. A distant volcano behind her spewed brilliant lava, casting a faint orange glow against her pale blue fur and causing it to shimmer slightly in the light.
He almost smiled. If there was one thing he was going to miss about this incident, it would be her, never mind all that hovering she had put him through. "Oh, I don't know," he replied, glancing at his own luggage. "I should probably start with finding a hotel, and then maybe look for a decent tour group to join.
Someone tried to convince me that Minas Morgul looks stunning around mid-evening, so I might as well see if that's true, if nothing else."
"Sounds like a good plan," she said, nodding. "Mind if I walk with you?"
He blinked at the unexpected question. "Um, sure, I don't mind."
They began their stroll through the city, leaving that airport and its cursed plane behind in exchange for buildings with fascinating, twisted architecture and locals, many of whom were rather curious about the recent hullaballoo. "Keba," Glinda asked, as they passed a club full of break-dancing orcs, "I want to thank you for what you did earlier."
"Thank me?" He raised an eyebrow. "For what? All I did was float around while you cast the spell that stopped Bernie and saved us all. I did nothing."
"Funny," she replied, also raising an eyebrow, "but I distinctly remember only being able to charge the Cryo Sphere thanks to a certain Leafeon managing to distract Bernie the Evil Dragonair with technicalities and said Evil Dragonair's own psychotic ego. After all, if said Leafeon hadn't distracted said Evil Dragonair, I have no doubt whatsoever that said Evil Dragonair would have noticed me immediately and wiped us both out with a single Flamethrower."
"I … I … that was nothing," Keba stammered, blushing faintly without knowing why. "I-it was just common sense, that's all. You learn a lot about its uses when dragged into crazy situations involving crazy monsters and killers and spirits and stalkers and rickrollers. But I can't do anything a nice witch can do."
"An
ice witch, Keba," she corrected, stopping and smiling at him; out of habit as well as politeness, he stopped and faced her. "That's just it; it's not
just common sense. It's hard to have it when you're an ice witch, after all, since there's so much magic and god-searching to do with it. I suppose you could say that common sense is really
uncommon sense. In a way, you saved the day with
your power."
He considered that angle. "Well, when you put it that way …"
She grinned at him and, to his utter astonishment, leaned forward and licked him softly on the cheek. "Glad you can see that," she said, taking advantage of his stunned silence and locking her deep blue eyes into his soft brown ones.
He looked into her eyes.
She looked into his.
He looked into hers.
She looked into his.
He looked into hers.
She looked into his.
He looked into—
"Oh, forget suspense, I like what I see, okay?"
And he planted a kiss on Glinda's mouth.
He still hadn't forgiven Gira for getting him into that mess. He was still going to give her an incredibly hard time about it, regardless of what her response afterward might be. But for now, he might ease up on his nagging, by which he meant he would ease it up more than usual, considering her tendency to snap at people who disagreed with her. For now, he couldn't bring himself to hate her.
As long as he had Glinda here, in this twisted hell of a tourist trap, he'd be fine.
After all, that's how love works, right?
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Coming up next: NidoranShipping.