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Rally Interpretation 2

Discussion in 'Completed Fics' started by The Teller, Apr 21, 2014.

  1. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Now I know it hasn't quite been a full year since the announcement of the contest, but I figured I'd celebrate a little early anyway. *pops party streamers* Happy birthday, Interpretation contest! I decided recently to make a sequel to my own entry, in which I interpreted what the various team grunts were like in the very deadly and very dangerous 2nd person point of view. So this will be an anthology of oneshots, each one dedicated to a different team that I didn't use in my contest entry. To cover my tush, all entries will be rated G, with the exception of the first entry, which will be rated T for very strong and offensive language.

    This first entry looks at Neo Team Plasma (the covert-looking ones from Black & White 2). Again, this particular entry is rated T due to lots of strong, offensive language. Don't read if you're not into that sort of thing. I read the rules and I'm working around the word filter for just this entry for the sake of the context of the story (the grunt is an adult and is angry. Angry adults swear and aren't PC.). If it turns out that I'm breaking a rule anyway, please let me know so I can edit things.

    (Neo Team Plasma)

    N is a f ucking fool. He thinks that humans and Pokémon would be better off being completely separate from one another. That's like making sure the water and the earth never touch. However, you joined Team Plasma regardless. You're not sure why. Maybe you were simply bored. Or maybe you wanted to deprive some lazy f ucks of their Pokémon that they rely too much on.

    You were there when they raided the Nacrene City Museum and you provided time in Pinwheel Forest by stalling that brat from Nuvema Town. Much good that did. You were saddled with two retarded Patrats. No match against the brat's starting Pokémon they got from the b itch and the elemental monkey that they somehow got way before they entered Pinwheel Forest. One of your co-workers said some w hore was just giving them away in the Dreamyard. By the time Plasma agents got to her, she had already given away all of her monkeys to ALL THREE OF THE D IPSHITS FROM NUVEMA TOWN! And worst of all, not only did the one brat manage to steal the Dragon's Skull away from Team Plasma, but it turns out the Dragon's Skull was NOT what Ghetsis thought it was and was completely goddamn worthless to the team! You got the wrath of the f aggot gym leader and Mammy Jemima upon your head for nothing!

    You were in Driftveil City and were captured by Clay. Your two pathetic Patrats were no match against his Excadrill. You had two of the brats to thank for causing enough commotion on the bridge to allow for your escape. You were still trapped within city limits, however, and beat a hasty retreat to the Cold Storage at the south part of the city. What a f ucking goddamn brilliant plan that was. The brats still managed to track your a ss down and you couldn't even fight back because your Pokémon were still goddamn unconscious. You could only watch as your teammates sent Patrat after f ucking Patrat, Purrloin after motherf ucking Purrloin against the brats, and have them trounced in one hit over and over. You remember thinking, "How does Ghetsis expect us to get anything done when he only gives us Patrats and Purrloins to fight with?" Of course, using Pokémon publically would be completely against what Team Plasma stood for, so all members had to abandon their already caught Pokémon when they joined. You had to get rid of several Pokémon when you joined. You guess that, in the back of your mind, you had been hoping to get more powerful Pokémon upon joining. But of course, if anyone saw Team Plasma members catching additional Pokémon, the public outcry would be catastrophic, so you were barred from catching anything remotely useful.

    You were there at Dragonspiral Tower when that autistic retard, N, awoken the legendary dragon. This was perhaps the worst assignment of them all. Any assignment that involved you directly working with N was incredibly grating. If he wasn't Ghetsis' son and could easily convince your Patrats not to attack him, you'd have sicced them on him a long time ago. His longwinded speeches about Pokémon being his friends and how they'd be better off without human masters were like nails on a chalkboard. This retard is one of the Legendary Heroes? He gets to control one of the legendary dragons? He doesn't even WANT to command them! And by this point, your two Watchogs were no match against the brat's SIX Pokémon of varying types.

    You remember seeing the legendary dragon being reborn and thinking only of what you would do with such power. Getting rid of N would probably be the first thing on the list, just to show him what Pokémon are supposed to be used for. Disposing of the brats would be next on the list. Hell, you might even have set it loose on your Watchogs, who have proven to be f ucking useless every step of the way.

    You were there at N's Castle when it rose up from the depths of the earth and connected itself to the Pokémon League Champion Hall. You had been working your Watchogs to death making sure that the castle was constructed on schedule. Even in non-battling endeavors, they proved to be useless. When you heard that the brat was making his way through the castle, before you could even join in the fight, one of the gym leaders quickly dispatched you and your Pokémon. Unfortunately, this time, they brought police, and you were arrested. At least they finally took the damn Watchogs off your hands. Later, in prison, you heard that both N and Ghetsis had been defeated by the brat, whom it turns out is the other Legendary Hero who wields a legendary dragon. Worse yet, N outright defected and made off to parts unknown with his unstoppable juggernaut.

    For two years you stewed in your own anger in prison. You lost because you were weak. No, because your Pokémon were weak. And your enemies' Pokémon were strong. Your entire time spent as a member of Team Plasma just goes to show just how wrong N's philosophy was. You needed Pokémon, strong Pokémon, in order to get what you want. And what you wanted right now, was revenge. Revenge against the gym leaders that took you out. Revenge against the police that threw you into this rotting cell. Revenge against the little s hit that repeatedly got in your way time and time again.

    Imagine your surprise when, one day, one of the Seven Sages comes to your cell, saying that you're being released. What, is he working for the government now? Does he expect you to suddenly make nice with the bastards that left you here to rot? But no, Zinzolin has other plans. Ghetsis is back, forming a new Team Plasma, with Zinzolin heading recruitment for the team. You fight back the urge to spit in his face. What kind of a fool does he take you for? Who repeats the same thing over again and expects a different result?

    But then Zinzolin informs you that there are going to be changes to the plan. For starters, the whole "liberate Pokémon" angle is being dropped completely. Everyone will know from sight that this new Team Plasma is not some Skitty-coddler, and that they should fear their very presence. No longer was the plan "win the hearts of the people and separate Pokémon from humans." It was now an open declaration of war against Unova, with the end goal no less than Unova's total submission to your rule. There is even talk about using a Pokémon whose power surpasses even that of the legendary dragons.

    In addition, Ghetsis will be in charge much more directly. No more shadow puppets. No more double agendas, trying to fulfill both N's and Ghetsis' plans simultaneously. More interestingly, Ghetsis managed to use some connections with a company in Kanto to gain access to a large cache of sophisticated technology. The new Team Plasma won't be working with cuddles and words, but with weapons and cutting edge technology. He even brought on a brilliant scientist who believes in harnessing the raw power of Pokémon, not befriending them and segregating the black from the white.

    So why you? Team Plasma had hundreds of members two years ago. As it turns out, Ghetsis is far more perceptive than you thought. He noticed your desire for power. He noted your repeated exposure to the brat from Nuvema Town. He saw the look in your eyes when you gazed upon the legendary dragon. He heard you berate your Patrats for being weak. He noticed that you were not like many of the Team Plasma grunts, who genuinely believed and followed N. You were to be selected for this new, more aggressive, Team Plasma. You would be allowed to make much more direct and pragmatic plays when dealing with the enemy. And what enemy could be a threat to you? N disappeared two years ago and rumor has it that the brat went looking for him and hasn't been seen since. The other brat is a new gym leader and school teacher, so he wouldn't have time to hunt you down.

    You ask about the Pokémon you would be using. You note, rather venomously, that the whole idea is shot to s hit if you can only use f ucking Patrats and Purrloins. Zinzolin notes that since this new Team Plasma doesn't care about maintaining a friendly image towards the public, that you are free to use whatever you like. You already have plans on catching a few new Dark type Pokémon for your team. Looking around your cell, you know what your decision is.

    "When do we start?"
     
  2. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Since the contest is over now, I'll start posting my contest entry team by team periodically. From here on out, all entries will be rated G. Please note that none of the entries have been modified with the judges critiques in mind. I wanted everyone to see exactly what they saw and let them decide for themselves what the strong points and weak points were.

    (Team Rocket)

    You look up from the note you've written hastily earlier. This seems to be the place, though you're not absolutely sure. For one, it's a warehouse. Two, it is one o'clock in the morning and you're pretty sure you don't have proper security access to be here at this time. Then again, you don't have anything in storage here, so you'd have no business being here during store hours to begin with. Not that you really care. If the bounty is good enough, you'll break into anything. Three, due to the destined meeting time and low lighting, you're not quite sure if this is the correct warehouse to meet at.

    You look at the note again. Frankie never makes mistakes. If he said that the meeting would take place in this building at this time, then that will be the case. You look around. No one else within the vicinity. You walk up to the door and crank the handle, being careful not to actually open the door in case it's locked and an alarm will sound off. To your surprise, the door is indeed unlocked. You look around once more and, upon seeing no witnesses, open the door and enter the warehouse.

    Slipping in without noise, you quickly close the door behind you as silently as possible. It's even darker inside than it was outside. You remain motionless until your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. Once that has happened, you notice someone in the distance heading towards the back of the warehouse. He doesn't seem to have noticed you. You decide to follow him.

    Doing so finds you in the back of a crowd of people, all of them looking shiftily at their surroundings. No one here, including yourself, seemed to want anyone else to know that they were here. Only a few brave souls chanced making communications with one another. It was also still dark, with no light being illuminated.

    Suddenly, the back row of ceiling lights turned on. Their sudden appearance blinds you momentarily. When you're able to see again, you notice that a makeshift stage has been set up on one of the walls. The most noticeable thing is the huge, red 'R' affixed to the wall above the stage. Men and women in identical, black uniforms bearing the same stylized logo walk onto the stage. They all show no signs of emotion, all professionalism. The crowd around you murmur to themselves about these uniformed people. Then, a man in a black suit and a black fedora steps onto the stage. He has the logo patched onto the left side of his suit. He takes off his hat and everyone quiets immediately.

    "Welcome, my comrades," he says, gesturing to all of you.

    You instantly get the impression that he is speaking directly to you. Will he be able to provide you with what you need, you wonder?

    "I am Giovanni, leader of Team Rocket. I suspect that no one here needs to be informed as to what our goals are and how we wish to succeed them. I also suspect that I have no reason to guess as to why you are all here tonight. After all, breaking into a warehouse still in use during the cover of night is not exactly what Officer Jenny would call 'a friendly stroll in the park.'"

    Some of the crowd chuckles. You think it takes more than friendly warmth to take leadership.

    "No, what you all want is power. The ability to do whatever you want! No consequences! No one to boss you around and tell you what to do! To show the world what you are truly capable of!"

    "Yeah!" shout some of the crowd.

    "You've been wronged before. Told you can't just take what's there and rightfully yours. Told you couldn't reach your true potential through any means. That you had to follow the same path that everyone else takes. And look where that path took them! Menial office jobs, the same daily grind, wasting their life to barely scrape by in life. THEY do not see what YOU see! THEY continue to meekly shuffle in the dirt instead of rising up and grab for the power that is within their reach! And do you know why they won't let you do what they cannot?"

    He pauses for dramatic effect.

    "Because those with the power don't want you to have any as well!"

    "Yeah! That's right!" shouts more of the crowd.

    "THEY don't want competition!"

    "Yeah!"

    "THEY don't want you to best them!"

    "YEAH!"

    "THEY don't want to be removed from the top of the food chain, where YOU belong!"

    "YEEEEEAAAAHHHH!"

    "I can give you this opportunity! If you join Team Rocket, I can give you power! The trainers of this world believe Pokémon to be living, breathing creatures with their own hopes and dreams, beings that deserve our friendship and cooperation. They are wrong! If creatures of such unimaginable power were truly thinking creatures, they would be in charge, not us. They are nothing more than tools for us to use as we please! It is actually good for us that trainers think of Pokémon as friends, as that means they don't train them to be powerful weapons to be used against us. Their Pokémon will be weak, and no one will be able to oppose us, oppose you! Pokémon are not friends. They ARE power! And it is with this power that we will take control of the world, and gain ultimate power! All you ever desired will be yours! No one will ever tell you 'no' ever again!"

    The crowd roars with excitement. You think back to your last Pokémon battle. You only had a Grimer, and your enemy had a Kadabra. You were soundly beaten. Looking back, you realize that what Giovanni is saying is true. Both your Grimer and the Kadabra could easily defeat you if they so wished. But they didn't. Your Grimer obeyed your every command. It was yours to use. And that Kadabra. Who was to stop you from simply swiping it from that trainer and using it for yourself? All that power...

    The museum. That was your last heist. You only had your Grimer as a weapon. Not exactly something that leaves no traces behind at a crime scene. You had to put so much effort into the whole process. Just to get ahead. Just to make sure that the grimy little shack you call a home would continue to stay in your possession just a little while longer. Why should you have to continue living like that when you have the ability to become something so much more? You could BE someone. Someone people feared. Someone that can take whatever he wanted, whatever he deserved. So what if some people get hurt along the way? What do you care? They'll survive. You did.

    Will this man, Giovanni, be able to help you? Can he deliver you from your life of basic survival? Can he give you power? Can he make do on his promises?

    "So what will it be, comrades? Who will join Team Rocket?!" Giovanni shouts.

    "GO TEAM ROCKET! GO TEAM ROCKET! GO TEAM ROCKET!" the entire crowd chants.

    You look the man in the eye and he to you. You see it. This is a man without fear. This is a man with experience. With power. This is a man with plans. Big plans. And he will stop at nothing to see to it that they succeed. He can do everything that he says he will. He can help you. He can give you all the power you desire. He can make you somebody. No more low-level thefts. No more scrounging around for a living. You shout.

    "GO TEAM ROCKET!"
     
  3. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Here's the Team Magma entry. Hope you enjoy!

    (Team Magma)

    You chatter excitedly with the group you are with. You are all heading for the destination that was described in the letter you all received. You are relieved that you are finally with like-minded people. People that understand your concerns. People that have the same beliefs as you. You come up to the landmark.

    The letter said to come to Mano de los Sol, a geological formation east of Lavaridge Town. Mano de los Sol is a set of jagged rocks jutting upwards and vaguely resembles a human hand. Surrounding the landmark is miles of dry earth, no vegetation in sight. You passed by a very sandy route on the way here. Hiking closer to the landmark, you see people already there. They are all wearing red. They all seemed to be wearing sweatshirt hoodies and red legwarmers, though the men wore black slacks whereas the women wore short shorts. There was one man who was dressed differently. You assume that he is Maxie, the man who sent you the invitation letter. He wore a long, stylized shirt, red and black, with the same logo on it that the others were wearing. A banner with the logo on it was stationed upon the rock formation. Once you and the group make it to the formation, he greets you.

    "Greetings, my friends!" he says, arms outstretched. "I'm so glad that you all could make it today. My name is Maxie, and I have invited you all here today to give you a special opportunity."

    He sweeps one arm over the horizon, gesturing to the landscape around you.

    "Look at this majesty. Mile upon mile of perfectly useable ground. Just think of how many families we can house just here alone, within the confines of what you can see now. How many women and children can we save from a life of homelessness by placing them here, on ground that isn't even being used to its full extent? Hundreds, if not thousands! And just think of how many more lives we can save if there was more land..."

    You chatter amongst yourselves. Yes, no one is using this land. There are no Native Hoennese settlements here. Beyond this rock formation, there is no national park protection clause prohibiting land development from happening. Who is stopping you from building homes and relocating the homeless here?

    'But,' you think, 'there are so many people in need of homes, and though this desert is expansive, there's still only so much of it. How can I help everyone?'

    "Team Magma," Maxie speaks again, "is devoted to increasing Hoenn's landmass. That is our noble goal. By increasing the amount of land we can live on, we can provide much more land for people to live on. As you know, the world's population is increasing at an alarming rate. As of right now, there are seven billion people on this planet, and at our current state, we simply don't have enough room for everyone to live in. We can fix this! We have the capability! We have the tools! We have the power!"

    "But how will we do it?" you ask.

    Maxie looks at you. You see a bemused look in his eyes. He looked as if he had expected you to say that.

    "It's simple, friend. We'll decrease the water mass of this planet. In other words, we'll shrink the size of the oceans and seas."

    One of you speaks up, asking about the potential problems with having less water. Maybe it was you.

    "I understand your concerns," Maxie replies. "Think of it like this: water never goes anywhere. When it is evaporated, it merely goes into the clouds, waiting to fall down upon the earth again. It is never truly destroyed. If we increase the landmass by shrinking the water mass, we are merely pushing the water out of the way and having it concentrate elsewhere, not getting rid of it entirely. Now think about Mano de los Sol. If we were to blow it up with dynamite, would it rise to the clouds and fall back down in a few days, retaining its shape and structure? No, I'd wager that it wouldn't. Once a landmass is gone, it's gone forever. It doesn't have the immortality that the oceans and seas have. That is why we must protect it! That is why we must increase the land for all of us, and why taking away the water mass will NOT mean our destruction!"

    "Think of the sea life," he continues. "Do you really think the fish and the Tentacools and Wailmers would mind, or even notice, if we were to shrink the size of their home? What about humans? Do you think they would mind if we do nothing and not find ways to make everyone comfortable? I think you'll find that the answer to those two questions is decidedly different."

    The crowd and you talk amongst yourselves more excitedly now. Water Pokémon are dumb. They won't know if a few thousand square miles of water were to be replaced with landmass. They don't live everywhere in the water mass. And besides, at the bottom of every ocean and sea, what is there? Land. Your homes are already there. You just need to go and retrieve them.

    "Join with me, my friends!" Maxie says, enthusiastically. "Join with Team Magma and together, we can build a better tomorrow, for all of mankind! Together, WE can make a difference!"

    "FOR TEAM MAGMA!" someone from the crowd shouts.

    It was most definitely you.

    "FOR TEAM MAGMA!" shouts everyone else.
     
  4. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Hope you enjoy! Here's the Team Aqua entry.

    (Team Aqua)

    You are at the Dewford Town Aquarium Center. You did not have to pay an entry fee today, for you have a season pass, just as you've always had for the past five years. Even before that, you've always gone to the aquarium as often as you can, as long as your parents could pay for tickets. After awhile, they saw reason and purchased a season pass for you. Then there were the nights where you would sneak out of the house and sneak into the aquarium to see how the inhabitants there lived during the nighttime. The sights you saw were beautiful beyond words. You belonged there. You knew the residents more so than their caretakers. You knew when one was sick, when one was pregnant, when one was a newcomer, even though everyone always tells you "They all look the same." But they're not! Each one of them is special and unique in their own way, just as people are. Or, so you once thought. Lately, you're starting to think things...

    The aquarium is empty today, and not because you snuck in during closing hours either. No, it's broad daylight and the place is still empty. Empty, save for you and several other people. There were ads in all the local papers and strewn all over the town, talking about a special meeting for people who love the ocean as much as you do. It was to take place today at the aquarium. The people behind this meeting must have a lot of money to buy off the aquarium for the day to ensure privacy.

    As you look at the other people around you, you notice that they are all in shape and quite tanned. Some are still in wetsuits. You suppose that they are all heavily involved with the ocean and sea, in a hands-on way. You don't recognize any of them as anyone who works here at the aquarium. You continue to walk to the center exhibit, where the fliers said the meeting would take place. An Octillery places an arm on the window pane belonging to one of the exhibits next to you. You know this Octillery, and as a way of saying hello back to her, you place a hand on the opposite side of the window, directly opposite of where her tentacle is currently placed. Your meet and greet is short, however, as you don't want to be late for the meeting, so you take your hand away and continue walking to the center room.

    As you near the room, you hear voices coming from the distance. You hear boisterous laughter. As you enter the center exhibit room, you are first drawn to the several dozen Goldeen, Seaking, Finneon, Lumineon, Remoraid, Magikarp, Qwilfish, and Feebas, all swimming in organized schools in the central tube. Glass windows showing other Pokémon (ones that can't be put in the same environment as the more peaceful fish species) surround the circular room. The voices come from the people standing besides the central tube.

    Amongst the group are people dressed in blue- and white-striped shirts, blue jeans with stylized circles embroidered onto the sides, black gloves, and a blue bandana with a stylized 'A' on it. People who aren't dressed like that you guess are people like you, invited here by the group organizing this. The people in similar clothing you guess are part of said organization.

    "HA HA HA HA!" you hear.

    You notice the laughter coming from one of the people in the group. He is dressed in black pants and a black dress shirt with a rather revealing v-neck, showing off his pectorals and the fact that he shaves his chest. He is also wearing a bandana. Just the way he composes himself, you can tell that he is full of life (and perhaps himself) and is very approachable. He is speaking to someone as if they were an old friend and you find yourself inexplicably jealous of the stranger. It makes no sense but, how cool would it be to have someone as lively as this man as a close friend? You decide that this man possesses the ability to woo both man and woman alike, no matter the preference.

    The man notices the new people entering the room and grins.

    "Ahoy there, mateys! Come on in! Don't be shy! We're all friends here!" he shouts, waving you all in.

    You wonder if he has an indoor voice. You walk closer to the group, along with several other outsiders.

    "I think we should get started. It's been lovely talking to you, Shelly. Hopefully we can do it again, real soon."

    You wonder what she said to get his attention so completely.

    "Haha, welcome everybody! I see only the most attractive squirts decided to show up today!"

    You decide to take that as a personal compliment.

    "In case you've been on land too long, allow me the pleasure of introducing you...to myself! Ahaha! The name's Admiral Nepdon, but ya'll can call me Archie. No need for titles with us. Everyone's part of the crew in Team Aqua!"

    He suddenly stretches his arms out and twirls around in place like a little kid.

    "Looook at all this beauty! Life-sustaining water as far as you can see! It's exactly like it was millions of years ago! Can you feel the serenity? The peaceful cohabitation of all the Pokémon species behind me, doing what man cannot do after all these years he's spent being the dominant species on land? Reminds me of why I left the land to begin with."

    You think about your last romp in the ocean. You had gotten into a fight with a friend and just wanted to get away from it all, so you took your surfboard and wetsuit and headed out to the beach. You swam out past where you were allowed to surf and just laid there, lazily coasting on the waters. You had both hands submerged in the water. You remember something brushing your hand as it swam past. You didn't know what it was, but making contact with the creatures that live in the ocean was nothing unusual to you. You just felt happy that the ocean life trusted you enough to get close to you. The feeling of peace you felt in the ocean was something you could never replicate in your bedroom or with others. You've often pondered about living life on a boat (or a yacht).

    "Archie, you're daydreaming again," said one of the uniformed men.

    You snap back to attention and notice that Archie had fallen into a similar trance.

    "What? Oh, right. Sorry, mateys. It was a wonderful experience, my first time on the high seas by myself, you can be assured."

    He has a smile on his face as he recalls his distant memory. But then he shakes his head slightly and the smile is washed off.

    "But that's not why I called you all here, is it? No, what I want is to get you all in on a wonderful opportunity. Here's something a professor told me long ago: all life originated from the ocean. Without all this water around us, none of us would be here today. Not us humans; not the Pokémon we see before us. We owe everything to the ocean. And what do we do instead? We kill it by causing global warming, making the oceans and seas recede onto themselves, pushing them further and further back for land, land that means nothing to us if we don't live long enough to use it.

    "So we've got to fight back! And how do we do that? We increase the spans of the seas! We make the ocean come back and reclaim the beaches! We do away with pesky islands the size of a dining room table! We return this planet to the glorious state it was once in!

    "I ask that you once again look at all the varieties of Pokémon that swim around us at this very moment. As I've said before, all life springs from water. Increasing the water mass will introduce new species of Pokémon we've never could have imagined! Just think: if we swallow Mt. Pyre in water, we could eventually see the first Water/Fire type Pokémon! And it will be OUR doing!"

    "But how would we increase the water mass?" you blurt out, suddenly afraid that it was a stupid question and that Archie will hate you forever for asking such a thing.

    He looks at you, perhaps surprised that someone broke free of his charisma for even a moment. Stupid! Stupid stupid stupid! His full attention is now on you and you have failed him! You wish you could just crawl into a bottomless crevice on the seafloor and die.

    "Ahaha! I'm glad you asked, my fine matey! I may not look like it, but I'm quite the resourceful captain. I have the tools and designs necessary to carry out our task. Why, there's even a legend..."

    "Archie, these aren't ours just yet," pipes up one of the uniformed men.

    "Aw, lay off won't ya? Everyone here is part of the crew in spirit, officially documented or otherwise," Archie replies.

    Somebody in the crowd speaks up, asking about the potential problems with flooding the world with water and reducing the landmass, which is where people live. Perhaps it was you again.

    "A great question to be sure!" he replies. "And to that, I say look at Pacifidlog Town. A whole town floating on top of the seas! Everything there is connected to one another and the town itself isn't simply drifting afloat in the sea like a piece of driftwood. No, it allows people to live on the waters without having to invest in a boat! It is locked into land so a strong breeze can't send it to a new zipcode. It is proof that humans CAN live on the waters as if they were living on land! The town does not impede the flow of the sea and all the life in it. Just think of a whole city designed just like it! If the whole world were like this, think of the possibilities! It would be impossible to poison the oceans with oil because of sheer volume! New life would spring up constantly! The poor landlubbers that had the unfortunate mistake of being born in a landlocked town would know the joys that we all know intimately."

    You again remember your lazy surfing adventure. You would want everyone to know what that's like. And what of the children Archie just mentioned? The ones who can't make it to the waters, but so desperately want to be a part of it? You want to help them realize their dreams.

    "The land's not going anywhere. It's merely being pushed down. And we can build on top of the waters and we can, we MUST, accommodate to the waters, not the other way around. So, what do you say, me hearties?! Are ya part of the crew?! Are you ready to do some good to this world?!"

    "YEAH!!!" everyone shouts.

    "GO, TEAM AQUA!" shouts the woman from earlier.

    Not to be outshone, everyone else repeats.

    "GO, TEAM AQUA!"
     
  5. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Here's the Team Galactic entry. The judges seemed to really like this one.

    (Team Galactic)

    Humans are curious. Illogical. It is truth. You have known since you were two. You have known things since you were two.

    It is sad. You are human. Are you illogical? You think the statistical probability is low. But percentages lie. Like humans. Why do humans lie? What evolutionary benefit is there? You see none. Thus, you do not lie. Humans find this discomforting. Why?

    Why? Why? You are constantly curious as to why things are. You are more comfortable with the twenty-fifth letter of the Latin alphabet than you are with any other letter. That is a joke. You do not experience heightened relaxation when audibly representing the other twenty-five letters nor non-Latin characters.

    You find it discomforting that you always ask why. You deduce that it is because it is proof that you do not know as much as you think you know. You know math, science, history. You do not know why you should switch to German when acknowledging a person's olfactory system reacting to dust particles in the air, nor why you should acknowledge such a common event to begin with. You do not know why you should hold a door open for a completely able-bodied human to transfer through prior to yourself, nor why the individual's sex chromosomes makes this abnormal ruling more concrete. You cannot fathom the origins of "it" or why you have suddenly taken on its identity via slight human contact.

    Why do you know so much but know so little? At one point, you predicted that you knew approximately eighty-three percent of everything. You do not. You know approximately between eleven and eighteen percent of everything. "Everything" is immeasurable. You find it frightening how little you know. If you do not know why images of household felines using incorrect grammar are humorous, what else do you not know about?

    A man has an answer to your conundrum. The solution is brilliant in its simplicity.

    You happened upon this man quite by accident. You recall your first meeting with the man. You were at the Canalave Library. You are always at the Canalave Library. You have read every book. You have viewed every tape. You have memorized every map. You had moved on to art books, which you have thus far avoided due to them consisting mostly of pictures that were designed for evoking emotion and meaningless personal philosophy. The man had walked up to you from behind, not being silent about it at all. You do not know if he was trying to be stealthy. Some humans try to be stealthy.

    "Hello," he had said.

    "Hello," you replied back, as that was the appropriate response to a greeting.

    "I have seen you here before," he continued. "You have read many of the books here. But you are struggling with this one book. And the book before it. And the one before that. Those were all art books. You cannot understand them, can you?"

    Your extensive read of psychology textbooks and self-proclaimed professionals tell you that this man is a face reader. He is good at reading faces. He is good at reading your face. Is your face readable? Most people you have encountered have said no, so therefore this man must be really good at reading faces. An alternate hypothesis is that you do not have anything on your face to read. But now there is something.

    "No, I cannot comprehend these books," you say.

    "You do not know why you cannot understand these books, am I correct?"

    Also in your psychology textbooks was the phenomenon of telepathy. You conclude that this man can read your mind. You give him your answer in thought, as it is customary to do so in front of a telepathist.

    "I cannot read your mind," he says audibly. "I am merely vocalizing my theories, which do not need to be formulated in the form of a question."

    "Okay. I do not know why I cannot understand these books."

    "I do."

    For the first time since the moon went into its waxing gibbous phase this year, you are genuinely surprised by what someone said.

    "You do?"

    "Yes."

    How did this man, whom you are statistically safe in saying that you have never met before, know the answer to a personal problem?

    "I, too, cannot understand these books," he continues. "There are many things I do not know. The look on your face as you struggle to comprehend these pictures mirrors my own face at precisely your age. I wished to know all, and failed."

    You are enraptured. He speaks as if he is parroting your most private thoughts, yet he claims that the thoughts are his own. If he is not a telepath as he suggests, then the thoughts must be his own.

    "I despaired. How was I any different from the others if I could not accomplish what they could not? How could I be a success as an individual organism if I could not know a fraction of one percent of everything that there is to know? I gathered that I knew around ten to seventeen percent of everything, and that was not enough. It was also erroneous."

    "As for the art books," he continued, finally addressing your current problem, "you cannot understand them as they are not meant to be looked upon with unwavering science or mathematical formulas. Those things cannot be changed to fit our worldview more comfortably. They always are, always have been, and always will be. The number of neutrons in fluorine will always be ten. The first ten digits to pi will always be three point one four one five nine two six five three. But two people looking at Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grand-Jatte will see two different things. A hundred people will see a hundred things. And yet it is one painting, unchanging. This phenomenon is unfathomable to those like us. It defies the hard sciences in its plasticity. This is why the science of art is so beyond us."

    You nod. The logic behind his words is sound. You feel a sting of embarrassment at the overall simplicity of his answer.

    "This only answers your current predicament with comprehending art books, however. Your true concern is still unanswered."

    You are puzzled. What is your "true concern?"

    "You desire to know everything, and yet you cannot. It is an impossible task. How do you cope with that?" he answers, providing counter-evidence of his claims of no telepathic powers.

    "I read to understand more," you answer, not realizing the rhetoric nature of the question.

    "Yes, but there is an easier way. I have found a solution to yours and mine problem."

    How can an impossible situation be made possible?

    "I have found a way to make it so that we can know everything."

    There is a brief moment of frightfulness at his statement, or rather how he portrayed it, with a hint of emotion, but it was quickly replaced with anticipation.

    "In this world, in this reality we reside in, we cannot hope to achieve our goal. We must do what a car mechanic does when an automotive engine no longer becomes serviceable: we must discard the old and replace it with a new model."

    His analogy perplexes you. How is a planet like a car engine? How is a raven like a writing station? You were told that before, and you found the question ridiculous. There are zero correlations between an avian with popular connotations attached to it and a wooden desk that is primarily used for writing fictional tales for public consumption.

    "I see that you do not understand my vision. There is pure energy in this world. This energy is unlike anything modern science has uncovered thus far and is harvestable. I believe that a sufficient amount of this untapped energy can produce anything we desire. I have big visions. With this energy, and some help from outside parties, we can remake this world. We can remake the universe. We can shape it into anything we want. We can make it so that the only information is the information we can understandably strive to achieve to know. Why should we despair about all the information we cannot know when we can simply trim the excess fat and wash our hands of it?"

    His idea is ridiculous.

    "Instead of trying to know everything, we can make it so that we already know everything," he concludes.

    Is it possible? Even if it is, is it right? It would be bending the rules, stopping in the middle of a marathon and moving the end goal to a foot in front of you.

    But you would still win the marathon. You have prepared for your whole life. Why should you not make the event as desirable to your needs as possible?

    "But...how?" you ask.

    He explains the science to you, the energy, his company that is already siphoning the energy for both his own needs and that of the general public, his secret organization, Team Galactic, that more directly furthers his goals of obtaining all knowledge, the legendary myths of Sinnoh that could hold a grain of truth in them, everything. You understand it all. None of it is as complex and abstract as this art book you were perusing.

    "I have explained everything to you. What is your choice? You could help me and together, we can create a universe where you are a success, you thrive, you know everything there is to know, you will be complete."

    You will be complete. This feeling in you, this unexplainable, hollow feeling. He can rid you of that. It is scientifically within your grasp. You can feel satisfied, something you have not experienced in so long.

    "I choose to go with you."
     
  6. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Here is Team Plasma's entry. This is the Team Plasma from the first Black & White games. The first entry in this thread is the New Team Plasma from the Black & White 2 games. So don't get confused.

    (Old Team Plasma)

    You work at the Pokémon Shelter in Lacunosa Town. Every day you see beaten and battered Pokémon come in. You find it surprising that Rock and Steel type Pokémon can even be beaten and battered. It just goes to show how cruel people can be to Pokémon. You never got why people could do such horrible things to such wonderful creatures. When has there ever been a Pokémon uprising? Never. No matter how bad humans treat Pokémon, they remain loyal to you. You can't understand why. It is humans who make war with one another, not Pokémon.

    You have just finished your shift today and leave the shelter. You find a group of people standing around the town center across the street. You wonder what is going on and make your way into the crowd. You push your way to the front, past a young man with ridiculous amounts of green hair. You see a bunch of men and women dressed in very odd outfits. Two of them are holding up a banner with an intricate design on it. Standing in the middle of the crowd is an older man in an even more ridiculous outfit. He is draped in robes and his collar is jagged and pointing straight up, as if he didn't want you to see his mouth for some reason. Who are these people? The man holds up his left hand, silencing the murmuring crowd.

    "Greetings, citizens of Lacunosa Town," his voice bellows.

    You can't see it because of the fancy clothing, but he has a microphone clipped onto him, allowing him to speak loudly without straining himself. Even if you had known, you still wouldn't know where the speakers are.

    "My name is Ghetsis, and I am representing Team Plasma. I have come here today to speak to you about Pokémon liberation."

    The townspeople are once again talking amongst themselves. What does he mean by "Pokémon liberation?"

    "I am sure you are all aware of just how special these creatures we call Pokémon really are. They are capable of incredible feats that we are only just now becoming able to replicate with advanced technology. They can control the elements, achieve flight, and even have access to psychic abilities far beyond the most powerful human psychics. And what do we humans do? We capture them, removing them from their homes and family, never to let them out of their prisons unless it is to battle other prisoners in fights for our amusement. And because of their high-tech prisons, they can't even say 'no' to us. Only the strongest willed Pokémon can resist our words, and what did we do then? We implemented a 'badge system' so that even those Pokémon become subservient. Who here can honestly tell me that I'm lying?"

    No one speaks up. You think back to the patient at the shelter from yesterday. She was a poisoned Lillipup, abandoned on the side of the road, without even being healed first. Clumps of hair were missing and she was bruised and bleeding in several places. One of her eyes had been swollen shut. She's still in intensive care at the Pokémon Center because your shelter's tools were inefficient for the job. What kind of trainer would leave their Pokémon in such a condition?

    "Pokémon are capable of so much more than just battling," Ghetsis continues. "But we think nothing of it, seeing ourselves as superiors to them. The reality is, it is they who are superior to us! We humans have so much to learn from them! There is only one course of action we humans can make to rectify this mistake. We must liberate the Pokémon! Set them free! Break their chains bounding them to us!"

    The crowd is now murmuring to itself much louder than before. The general consensus was that of bewilderment. Free the Pokémon?! What a radical idea! It would surely topple the governmental order!

    'But yes!' you think to yourself. This man's words were truth! If you were a Pokémon, you wouldn't freely put up with being made to battle against your will day in and day out. You would have to be forced to do so! So why should actual Pokémon be expected to think any differently? Those Pokémon have loved ones they care for! Families and friends! And when you capture a Pokémon, you're abducting them and taking them away from those people! And the badges are just heavier chains for those Pokémon that dared to rebel against their unfortunate fate!

    "I know this is a major decision you must make, and not one we of Team Plasma will force upon you. We do not expect all of you to agree with us right away. We have set patterns that we are comfortable and familiar with, and it takes a long time to break from those things, even if they are for our betterment."

    That Lillipup wouldn't be in the condition she's in now if she didn't have to be that trainer's punching bag. None of the Pokémon at the shelter would be there if Pokémon were separated from humans. We could all live in harmony!

    "But we implore you to think about where you stand with Pokémon right now, what wondrous possibilities open up when we become equals to Pokémon, and seriously consider our proposition. I, Ghetsis, and all of Team Plasma, thank you for your time."

    He does a slight bow and the uniformed men and women form a tight circle around him, as if expecting an attack. Someone in the crowd starts applauding. A few others soon follow. Pretty soon, most of the audience is applauding, including you. Ghetsis smiles a kindly smile.

    The crowd soon disperses and you walk up to Team Plasma. The uniformed men and women look at you with heightened suspicion. Ghetsis sees you, smiles, and walks up to you. His followers step out of the way upon seeing him put his trust in you.

    "I just heard you talk, Ghetsis," you say. "I've never heard someone speak so directly to me before. Everything you said was like shining a beacon in the darkness. I work at the Pokémon shelter in town, and I see the consequences of humans abusing their control over Pokémon every day. I've been content with just helping Pokémon recover from their times with humans. I've never thought about taking such a radical approach to the problem before! If humans were to liberate Pokémon, I wouldn't have to see so much pain every day! We could achieve true harmony!"

    Ghetsis nods sagely.

    "Do you have any Pokémon yourself, child?"

    "No. I've never been comfortable with the idea of the Poké Ball. The jobs I've held before had me use Pokémon, though. Some were kept in Poké Balls. Others I never saw being put into Poké Balls, but I assume they were."

    "They were no doubt being constrained until they were needed again. Tell me, did they get to go home after their work shift was done? Did they get to go see a movie after work? Did they get to go out with friends on their off day? Did they even have days off of work?"

    "No..." you say, suddenly realizing it all for the first time.

    The situation was much worse than you thought.

    "They're not even given basic human rights," you say to Ghetsis, just as you are discovering the fact yourself.

    "That's because humans sadly believe that they are better than Pokémon. Tell me this then, child: can you bend steel girders? Can you vibrate the air around you to the point of shattering glass? Tell me, are you really better than Pokémon?"

    You know the answer.

    "But do not think that I am saying that Pokémon are better than humans either, child. After all, it was humans who invented the technology to enslave Pokémon. It was also humans who invented the technology to heal Pokémon at a rapid rate. And it is humans who invented the clothes you wear, the comforts you enjoy, and the home you live in. I am not saying that one species is better than the other. I am saying that both are equals to each other, but current society is not mirroring this belief."

    "They should," you catch yourself saying.

    Ghetsis returns his smile to his warm face.

    "Perhaps you can do more good with Team Plasma than at the Pokémon shelter," he says. "With your kind of determination, we can spread the word far and wide and more people can see the errors of their ways. Join us, and we can make this world a better place for Pokémon to live in! We can become their equals instead of their horrid oppressors! We can make this world a brighter place for everyone."

    A place on Team Plasma? You think of all the Pokémon you could help by voicing their concerns for them to humans all around the region. You could be their savior!

    "Okay, I'll join. I'll join Team Plasma and make this world right again!"

    Ghetsis' smile grows wider, briefly exposing his sharp canines.

    "Come, my child. There is much work to be done."
     
  7. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    This is a new one. This is Team Snagem, as they were in Pokemon Colosseum (not Pokemon XD). This wasn't an entry for the Interpretation contest. It's also shorter than most of the other entries. Regardless, it's still rated G. This will also be the last entry on this thread for awhile. I want to do an entry for Cipher and Team Flare, but that won't be for awhile due to real life getting in the way. Anyway, enjoy.

    (Team Snagem- Colosseum)

    A man's gotta make a livin', ya know? Gotta make do with the hand yer dealt wit. Ain't yer fault you was born in the desert, no civilization fer miles, ain't no people around; worse, ain't no Pokemons around. Born in a world stuffed like an omelet with gods, and you had to be stuck in the one place where there ain't no thang. Even wit the Pokemons, the sun's been dyin' to make yer acquaintance all up and personal like, all the time it seems. You heard that there's trees out in the old folk's home and some planted trees out where the Mayor lives, but you ain't never reckon ever seein' real trees ever. You ain't never seen grass that Miltanks eat either. It's just sand. Lots and lots of sand.

    Ain't no school near where you lived. Mama done taught you herself. Yer daddy ain't never there. He ain't never was there. You was the youngest child. Mama done got tired of teachin' after doin' it three times, so you ain't never got a proper education. Mama was constantly tired. She ain't never cared if you got out and played. Far as you can tell, yer only friends were the other kids in the neighborhood. Their mamas was tired, too. You all played and played 'til the sun done fried yer brains. Mama said that the sun would do that if you played under it fer too long. It'd fry yer little child brain.

    Course, once you grew up, little kids play wasn't no fun anymore. Ain't nothing to do 'round town. Everybody knew everybody, and ain't nobody retire and stuff, so ain't no jobs fer you to be had. No job, no school, no Pokemons, no battlin', nothing to do. So you and yer friends just formed a gang and decided it'd be fun to go 'round causing some trouble and stuff. Yer mechanic friend managed to steal parts from the loco out-stop and made a real hovercycle out of it, which you used to get 'round. First you start stealin' some food, minor stuff. Then you started stealin' what you needed. Not long before you was stealin' whatever you wanted at the time. Ain't no one stops you. Ain't no po-po. All the po-po at the Scab, too busy dealin' with wannabe thugs in the Armpit. And they too stupid to even stop those guys.

    Some people got angry. Some people did try to stop you. You fought back. You used a crowbar. Yer gang used whatever they had. Ain't no real weapons in the desert. Sooner or later, one of you starts to like the violence. Starts intimidatin' wherever they go. Even when you ain't doin' nothin'. Ain't no one in yer gang stop him. You got respect. People get outta yer way more when one of you is crazy.

    However, with all the stealin', joyridin', fightin', drinkin', chasin', the fact of the matter is, you was bored. Everything gets borin' when you do it everyday. Ain't nothing new happens. Even yer crew, they ain't never change. Ain't nobody joins, ain't nobody leaves. Ain't never anything excitin' ever happens anymore.

    Then one day you picked the wrong peeps to mess with. Some baldies come to yer turf, thinkin' they own the place, and you and yer gang come out to "greet" them. Yer crazy friend already has a lead pipe in hand. The baldies say Team Snagem's takin' over, and you can either join them, or join the dust. You thinkin' they outta their minds. Yer crazy friend takes a step forward. And then, the baldies take out their Pokeballs. EVERYONE knows what a Pokeball is. You all stop. They let out their Pokemons. One of them, a fire Pokemons you ain't never seen before, lets out a stream of fire and burns yer crazy friend's hand. He drops the pipe, grabs his burnt hand with his other hand, screams, and lets go. You ain't winnin' this fight.

    Some of yer crew runs away. You ain't never see them again. But you, you ain't never been so excited. Finally, something interestin' was happenin'! You might even get a Pokemons! You couldn't sign up faster.

    First they take you back to their base. You have to pledge loyalty to them just like any other gang. You meet the gang leader, a big, burly man named Gonzap, who had really noticeable eyebrows, who personally gives you the once over before allowin' you to join. They give you a red vest, a white undershirt, and a pair of work gloves. Then they shave yer head. They give you some weird head device that looks like headphones. You ask what they do. They tell you it's none of yer concern. Then they give you another Pokemons you ain't never seen before, say it's from some faraway place, way up north where it's cold. They say it's called a Sneasel. They say it can make ice and that it's a Dark type Pokemons, which is just perfect fer a gang like Team Snagem to have. They say it's been trained to attack people as well as Pokemons, and that you should use it to "battle" people just like you would a Pokemons. After all, how many people have Pokemons out here in the desert to begin with?

    They say attackin' people will make them respect you. You want that. You're also just dying fer some action. Something different. Something exciting to happen fer once. You ain't never thought of fightin' people with Pokemons before. All the Pokemons battles you've seen on TV have been Pokemons-on-Pokemons. This new kind of fightin' invigorates you. Finally! Something new happenin'!

    You are being summoned to the home base. Team Snagem is allegedly goin' to start workin' with some new gang. Everybody is to be there fer a team pep talk and gettin' acquainted with the new gang. Together, everybody will finally get the respect they deserve. More importantly, even more new changes are happenin' in yer life! You head back to home base, excited about how yer mundane life has changed so much in such a short amount of time.
     
  8. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    He is pretty darn easy on the eyes.

    I just had to chuckle at this.

    And here I perked right the frell up, because **** yeah Orre. :D That said, even if it hadn't been Orre-based, I'd have probably still liked that last entry best. That style of narration was legitimately fun to read.

    The Aqua one was another favorite, simply because Archie was so adorkable. X3
     
  9. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Y-you FOUND this?! Sweet something...of somewhere! (bonus points if you get that ref) This makes me want to finish my last two entries (Cipher themselves and Team Flare).

    1. The Archie I drew upon was the one from the original R/S games, not the remake model, since this contest's entry was due before his new model was revealed. I think I just had the notion that players found him to be the manliest of the franchise's antagonists (barring Giovanni, who is considerably older), so I went with a "total flirt" personality with him. Remember, it's "you" who's narrating, so "you" could be either male or female, enabling maximum charm from Archie.

    2. I had more fun typing up Galactic!you than I expected. I'm glad none of the judges thought I was stereotyping autistic people.

    3. **** yeah, Orre! Not perfection, but still really good games. I sunk more hours than I'd care to admit into both of those games, and at least 14 Orre Pokemon are now on my Pokemon Bank or Pokemon Y file. I actually had a really hard time trying to figure out how to wrap the Snagem oneshot up, so hopefully that wasn't too noticeable. Normally I'd say that there needs to be a third game in the Orre series (preferably by Genius Sonority), but I don't own a WiiU, so I wouldn't be able to play such a game. Well, that's why there's Let's Plays, so yeah, third Orre game, please!

    So thanks again for finding this in the first place! I'm glad you enjoyed them.
     
  10. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Gather 'round, children. Today, we'll be learning about Cipher, not "Team Cipher." This is what a Cipher!You has been doing between Pokemon Colosseum and Pokemon XD, you nasty piece of work, you. I know, it's not with the usual theme of "what kind of person joins a cult and becomes a Grunt?", but I wanted Snagem!You to take place in Colosseum and Cipher!You to take place in XD, and I was going with a "you were already in Cipher during Colosseum, so you don't need convincing to join during XD" theory. The story's a bit on the short side compared to some of the earlier parts, but I think it can still stand on its own. Also, this entry is un-beta-ed, so there may be a few minor errors here and there. My usual beta squad was unavailable this time around, so everything is raw and unfiltered. The next entry will also be the last entry, featuring you...and Team Flare. And so, with that, enjoy!

    As a fat man once said, technology is amazing. Science can work just as many miracles as any religion says it can. It wasn't by Arceus' hand that Pokémon were made to become savage and attack trainers by the orders of trainers. It was by man's hands. And though the public figurehead Evice was prevented from escaping arrest by Ho-oh five years ago, Ho-oh is still just a mortal being, not a deity like the Johto people are led to believe, and the Shadow Pokémon Plan itself was stopped by a man, not by Arceus' divine wrath.

    It doesn't take a genius to see just how the dearth of Pokémon in this region simultaneously raises their value as a commodity. Nor is it rocket science that the police force around here is pitiful, which allows criminals to roam about, doing as they please, without comeuppance, which ALSO makes for a dangerous power play between any criminal organization that decides to try to take over the region. That Team Snagem and Cipher were able to work together during the first Shadow Pokémon Plan was, honestly, a miracle, though to be honest, you figured that the plan was always to betray Team Snagem after you had gained complete control of the region. It'd probably serve them right after that rogue agent of theirs went and caused so much trouble for everybody involved.

    Ah yes, the first Shadow Pokémon Plan. You were defeated by the rogue, your Shadow Pokémon snagged, but because of the aforementioned pitiful police presence, you managed to avoid capture and went into hiding for five years.

    A lot happened during those five years. You stayed close to other Cipher agents who managed to escape the long arm of the law. The "generals" of Cipher were captured five years ago, but some new, promising agents are rising in the ranks and may soon become the new generals themselves. One of them, Zook, shows a lot of promise, so long as he keeps anger in check. Word on the "street" is that Gorigan has muscled his way into a prominent position of power. If he thinks that his muscles and virtually miniscule lower body will be the deciding factor in a ferocious Pokémon battle, than you think that his reign of primate terror will be an extremely short-lived one.

    All 48 of the Shadow Pokémon who's hearts were closed had been purified by the rogue, according to what your intel told you, including the legendary Johto Beasts. Curiously, not all of the 48 Shadow Pokémon have been accounted for by the intervening foreign government when it came time to return the Pokémon to their original trainers or re-release them into the wild (the wild outside Orre, to be exact). More specifically, four Pokémon have been unaccounted for. The identities of those four Pokémon vary between sources though, so it's impossible to tell which four Pokémon the rogue took for himself.

    During those five years, you worked underground, helping to slowly rebuild Cipher from the ground up, without the assistance of Team Snagem. You stayed covert to avoid catching the eye of the rogue. You helped locate Citadark Isle for the new home base and helped to build the weather machine to keep passersby out. You suppressed rumors of Cipher's return circulating around the towns of Orre.

    You've heard news from others about what's going on within Cipher. The new head scientist had made a breakthrough in the Shadow Pokémon creation process. The word is that she's created a process that results in a Shadow Pokémon that can't be purified. If true, then it was only a matter of time before Cipher made themselves known again.

    And sure enough, you just read in the news about the S.S. Libra going missing in the middle of the sea. The ship was said to contain 79 Pokémon. In addition, word is that a few Legendary Pokémon had once again been captured and are being experimented on in order to turn them into powerful Shadow Pokémon. With the incurable Shadow process the new head scientist was perfecting applied to these powerful Pokémon, Cipher would become unstoppable. No "hero" was going to stop you this time.

    Who would stop you, anyway? Sure, The Under was shut down to the public (which made for a great secret base), but otherwise, the law never cracked down on crime after the first Shadow Pokémon Plan. Pyrite Town's still corrupt as ever, with only two police officers patrolling it, and word is that that's the most tightly patrolled town in the region. Phenac City is still largely defenseless, with its resident guard dog, Duking, more interested in hunting down the recently discovered Poké Spots that have cropped up here and there throughout the region, and make a shilling off of the discovery with his name-brand Poké Snacks, than defending his city from the dark storm that's steadily approaching. Agate Town is an over-glorified senior center for worn-out has-beens.

    You know that you will soon get your instructions. The true leader of Cipher, Master Greevil, will have a specific part for you to play in his grand scheme, and you will play the part perfectly. You have never seen the man before. You have never heard him speak. You don't even know if it is one man or many. You only know that he is indeed a man, and a magnificent one at that. The time for acting in the shadows will soon be over, and the time to take Orre by the throat will soon begin. The "Hero of Orre" is nowhere to be seen, and the presence of Ho-oh will soon be countered completely with a Legendary Pokémon of equal, or greater, strength working for your team. The law will not stop you. No citizen would be foolish enough to stand up to you. Team Snagem has been stamped out years ago and has not resurfaced since. All the variables in this takeover experiment are slanted towards your favor. You've even heard talk of the possibility of Cipher agents being able to wield more than one Shadow Pokémon at a time.

    It will be by the minds of man that Orre will fall to Cipher. It will be by the surgically precise knife of science and technology that you will gut Orre for all its treasures, hold its civilians hostage for however long you see fit, and build an empire strong enough to go up against the bordering regions. There will be no god or guardian that will save the good when you declare war on the world with God's own tools, molded for your purposes.

    All you have to do right now, is wait.
     
  11. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    Fun fact: I actually thought the first paragraph was part of the entry until the word "beta" came up.

    Man, this one made me nostalgic as all frell--for Colosseum, oddly enough, more than XD. I think it was the mention of the Under that did it. Gosh I miss that place.

    Of course XD has got the better Miror B. costume and theme going for it. Plus Snattle. And reading this has reminded me how goofy-looking Gorigan is. So hmm. Orre kicks ***, is what I guess I'm saying.
     
  12. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Yeah, Miror B wasn't with Cipher during XD, so no mention of him there. I prefer Miror B's salsa theme in Colosseum over his disco theme in XD. Snattle was such a pain to battle, particularly his final battle. I actually prefer Colosseum over XD, due to its much darker tone (though XD does get bonus points for having more than 48 available Pokemon).

    I'm almost done with the Flare entry, you guys! You...you guys? Guys?

    *cricket chirping*
     
    Last edited: May 25, 2015
  13. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Thank you everyone for reading! This will be the final entry, the Team Flare grunt, freshly beta-ed. "You" think of yourself as more talented and special than you really are, but you're too rich for anybody to have said "no" to you before. Warning to the perfectionist: there will be intentional flaws in the writing, to get across the notion that you think of yourself as a hotshot, but you're really not.

    I wanted all of my entries to answer the question: "What kind of person would join an evil organization in the Pokemon world?" Throughout the entries, I have provided the same answer in different ways: "People who are already part of the organization in all but name and uniform." I hope I got that across. It was really fun and, at times, frustrating to write each of the entries, come up with new ways of writing and telling the same plot in a new perspective, and hiding all the tiny details that help give each entry their own persona. I hope you'll all enjoy the final entry, and thank you once again for your patience and your readership! ~The Teller

    (Team Flare)

    Well, now they've done it! You've spent days working on your masterpiece, and when you finally showed it off to the unwashed masses, they trashed it, said it lacked "originality," "vibrancy," and "structure." One critic even said it looked like "a Smeargle with a bad case of diarrhea." Well! One word to Mommy and Daddy and that critic won't ever find work in this city again!

    How could they not see the beauty that you managed to encompass in an 8x8 inch frame? How could they not see the majesty? How could they all be so blind to the true message of the portrait? You thought you had shown your work to the highest elite, but it turns out that you had instead shown it to a bunch of filthy pigs who wouldn't know true art if it filled their troughs.

    The world is filled with such beauty, beauty that only you can see. Nobody else can see the beauties of this world that you can see. Oh, you have tried to show people such beauties through your art, your paintings, your writings, your sculptures, but they always turn a blind eye to your musings, always dismiss them as "abstract" and "ugly."

    "UGLY!" If there is one thing in this world you cannot stand more than the lowbrow common man class, it is ugliness! Of what use is there in ugliness' presence? It is an eyesore to your entire being and it must be to everyone else's! Ugliness has no place in your art. It has no place in your life. It must be removed, like a malicious tumor on the brain of a great artist, like Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo Da Vinci was one of your greatest inspirations, and you hope to be as great, and greater, than he was someday.

    The thrashing you took for your latest beautiful piece of art has only cemented the fact in your brain that there has been a steady increase in the amount of ugliness in the world these days. Yes, looking around you now, you see the stagnation of ugliness everywhere. The house staff, the commoners, the phonies; you wonder how it could have gotten this bad without anyone realizing it? The thought of it drives you into a deep depression, the likes of which the world has never seen before. You wonder if maybe this will inspire a Blue Era in your art.

    You leave the mansion and wander around Lumiose City to reconfirm your suspicions. The horrors that you saw were horrifying to believe. You saw rollerskaters performing obscene, fat tricks in the Vert Plaza without the grace or majesty you would incorporate if you were to debase yourself by performing such lowbrow entertainment for the masses. You saw chatty women chatting about insultingly stupid topics, topics that you would never conceive of communicating out loud to a respectable member of society, topics such as the fashions at the Santalune City Boutique, the latest PR video to come out, and the latest overwhelming victory achieved by this city's Gym Leader, Clemont. Worst of all, on South Boulevard, you saw a Furfrou prancing about, without any fancy trimmings or accessories on at all! You nearly fainted at the sight. If only you could simply pay for the ugliness to go away!

    In your sad despair, you sought refuge at the only sane place within this city, the Flare Café. The only place that understands you. You find the opaque, magenta color scheme soothing to you. The clientele who frequent the Flare Café are of a much better quality than the dregs of society that you must interact with on a daily basis. They know of your pain. You frequently engage in long conversations with both the clientele and the staff of your most prestigious and frustrating life. They, too, have experienced the same pains as you have.

    The owner of the café, Lysandre (he has repeatedly refused to give out his last name on multiple occasions when you asked), has been someone who has caught your eye long ago. No, not in a romantic way, though you could see the possibility in a faraway future, given how much you two agree about the importance of beauty in the world. No, what drew you to Lysandre was...well, actually, you suppose it was Lysandre that was drawn to you. It was Lysandre who first approached you. You admit, you were surprised someone as noble as Lysandre would approach you with such interests. You remember talking to a café socialite about the importance of beauty, both in your art and in the world, when Lysandre approached you. Even with your high social status, you knew that Lysandre was of a much higher social standing than you and your family were, so it still took you aback.

    "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he had said.

    You had replied with nothing, because you still weren't sure you were hallucinating all of this.

    "I am sorry. I have not properly introduced myself. I am..."

    "Lysandre!" you had interrupted. "You're Lysandre. You own this place. I've heard so many of your impassioned speeches."

    He chuckled to himself.

    "Hmhmhmm. Yes, I know. And I, too, have heard many of your soulful speeches, and I have grown very interested in your talks about the state of beauty in this world."

    He had heard your speeches?! You were so embarrassed. You felt like a naked clown trying to please the Congress, and all you had was a perfectly functioning compass. Had you known that Lysandre was listening...

    "I am very interested in talking with you further about the state of beauty in this world, and what we can do to ensure its continued survival."

    The cliffhanger at the end of his sentence intrigued you, lured you in. You had not known that beauty could simply..."go away." For the next several months, you and he discussed at great length the status of beauty in this world, of the blight that is "ugliness," and what you could do to tip the scales in beauty's favor. You also discussed your profession as a master artist.

    "You cannot get discouraged," he had said. "You know you are a great artist. You shouldn't let the lesser masses feed you lies designed to bring you down to their level. They're only jealous of your magnificence. They know they can never achieve such state of perfection that you can create with such ease. They will never paint a portrait so beautiful that it will make sweet Diantha's eyes weep with the most genuine, sad tears she can muster."

    You remember Lysandre's eyes briefly lighting up once when you mentioned how well off your family was. You assumed he was just impressed.

    It was today, then, that you were hoping that he would be managing the Flare Café. And indeed he was. He seemed pleased to see you. You talked his ear off about how the critics ravaged your art, talked about how unfair it was, talked about how wrong they were, talked about how you thought they were of a higher quality than that, talked about the growing wave of ugliness that is infecting the world, talked about how much importance you place on beauty. He seemed to hang on to every word; and yet, he also seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, barely in the realm of here and now. Suddenly, his eyes flickered back into life.

    "The world does seem to be losing its luster for beauty, doesn't it?"

    You agree wholeheartedly. You fail to not sound exactly like a gushing groupie, a term reserved exclusively for brain-dead lower class who can't think for themselves, agreeing with everything he was saying and saying "Yes!" like you were a newly discovered Pokémon.

    "It's a crying shame, really. The world had such potential to be a garden of beauty, with humanity as its caretakers. Nature itself was a savant; goddesses attributed to Her. It was no coincidence that we humans inhabit the most beautiful planet in the solar system. Look outside."

    You do. You can only see the immediate side of the next building over, no more than 5 feet away from Flare Café.

    "Was that building really necessary? Do you even know what the name of that building is? Do you know how much of all the construction materials went into that building. All of which, of course, could've gone towards something better suited for the planet, something more beautiful. Don't you wish this view could be replaced with a picturesque skyscape?"

    Not wanting to insult him further, you again nod and agree.

    "And not just with that building, but with most of the buildings in this city. They should ALL BE TORN DOWN," he says, startling you with his sudden outburst.

    He calms himself.

    "I am sorry. My anger shouldn't be made with the buildings themselves. Like a painting that was shunned love, it was not the painting's fault its face was marred in such a way. It is the human artist who commits such atrocities. We as a species have turned our backs to beauty and embraced the wicked bosom of ugliness. We have been reprogrammed to love the perishable material and shun that which cannot be replaced."

    He sighs.

    "There are so few of us that understand this. So few who truly love the true beauty of the world. So few who recognize all the rot we are presented with daily. So few who can resist their allure."

    "I do," you say, as if you needed reason to show him that you are one of those people.

    He smiles.

    "I know, my fellow beauty appreciator. I know. But there are so many who are not on our side, the right side. The side for beauty."

    "We can change them," you say. It was the most brilliant idea you've ever had. "It'll be just like the legend of the Ancient War, with the king of Kalos' use of the ultimate weapon. He stopped the war from continuing by force. We can stop the war on beauty in much the same way! If only we had the power of the ultimate weapon..."

    Lysandre looks quizzically at you at first, his wheels burning into a white-hot fire in his mind. Then his smile grew larger.

    "I was thinking the exact same thing as you, my friend."

    He clasps a strong hand on your shoulder and looks into your eyes with a fiery blaze.

    "If you will accept, I have a very important mission for you."
     
  14. Hi there! First, let me say congratulations for completing this fic! It may not be the typical "ending" that chaptered fics have, but it's a big feat nonetheless to complete all these one-shots. I remember reading the first few entries a while ago for the awards, but it's only know I've gotten the time to craft up a review. And it was a real thrill reading all of the one-shots in one go, too. Hah.

    And let me just say, they're really interesting to read. The unique setup you've put up for them really draws the reader in from the start, and the fascinating look at the reasoning and justification of a person's decision to become a Grunt makes sure that it doesn't let go of the reader without making a visible impact. I also think that you do well in exploring the motivations of each team and its respective leader. You present it in a very convincing way, which I guess is a given when you're working with a format like this. But that does mean that it succeeds, so good job there!

    My favorite one is the Team Galactic entry hands down. Even though I knew what would happen, it was a thrill to read from start to finish. You really take it up a notch with that entry, and I feel that it's because your language there is particularly more compelling than the rest. Cyrus sounds exactly like I heard him in the games, and how he uses his philosophical musings to woo a potential grunt was amazing to read.

    I also really like the Team Rocket one. Giovanni is a savvy speaker, and I like how you approached his vision of equating Pokemon to power. I also like it when you give some background in the subject of the entries, such as what you do with the Team Aqua one. How they view the ocean as their whole world really strengthens their decision to join. Same goes for the Team Plasma one - I like how you incorporated the team's whole ideal into the narrator's reality.

    As for the others, the Team Snagem one is particularly good in placing the narrative in a distinct setting, especially with the language you used to present it. The Team Flare one had a nice break in character from the others, and I thought the "larger than life" vibe of the whole thing worked well for it.

    There were some entries that I thought could be improved, though. I thought that the Neo Team Plasma one overdid it with the swearing. I get that it highlights the anger that fuels the grunt, but I thought it saturated a bit in the first half of the entry then sort-of toned down in the second half. I say this because there were parts of that entry where you did convey the anger without having to rely on the swear words. The one that stands out for me is this one:

    Only one swear, and very few modifiers, but I felt like it was one of the strongest paragraphs that conveyed what the grunt was feeling.

    Also, I mentioned how I liked the characterizing of some of the subjects above, and I do wish that it was sustained in all of the entries. The Team Magma one in particular seemed abrupt in their change from doubting Maxie to glorifying him, and I would've liked if it was grounded [heh, see what I did there?] more on what they're like or what their personal ambitions are. The change of pace in Team Cipher is understandable, but I would've liked more expansion in the narrator's views of science versus religion. I thought how you explored that theme was one of the best among the one-shots, so I guess that's why I want more of it. (Plus, I guess it's a detriment that I'm not really too familiar with the plot of the Orre games, but I do think you did a good job in filling in the gaps for readers like me).

    And slightly related to that, it would've been nice if there was a bit more variety in the basic storyline of each one-shot. Sure, they all end with the eventual recruiting, and that's expected, but aside from the questioning in the Team Magma one and the understandable doubt in the Neo Team Plasma one, all of the characters can be classified as willing and awestruck at the idea of becoming a grunt. I know you said that these one-shots were different ways of presenting similar answers to the same question, but I can't help wondering at the end: what would it be like if they were extremely doubtful at first but had a change of heart because of the leader's speech? Or what if they were put in a situation where they had no choice but to join? I know that's outside of the project already, but I think the slight cracks you did in the Neo Team Plasma and Team Magma ones could've also been seen in some others. This isn't so much criticism as it is ideas that came out of reading the project, so don't think it deters from how good this project is.

    And it really is a good project. You paint the picture of each scene really well, and you have a knack for creating flashy but believable dialogue. I commented on how amazing the language of the Team Galactic and Team Snagem ones were above, but that extends to all of the entries. You presented them all in a way that made them satisfying to read.

    Of course, I have to hand it to you for the awesome premise of the whole thing. When I first read the Neo Team Plasma and Team Rocket entries long ago, I thought it had the potential to be a really interesting character study of the grunts. Sure, someone can argue that these grunts aren't encompassing representations of each and every grunt in their respective teams, but they capture just how passionate (and, in most cases, deluded) they can be, and what types of grunts really fuel the advancement of each team. In the end, you also humanize the grunts and give them something worth fighting for, which we rarely see in the grunts we encounter in the games themselves.

    I know this project's already finished, but I do hope my comments above would help you somehow. Again, congratulations on completing this project, and I look forward to whatever else you come up in the future. :D
     
  15. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    Thanks SO MUCH for the critique! It's a bit hard to fine-tune a story, even one as fragmented as this, when there's so little feedback. Ok, let's go through this thing.
    Fun fact: I forgot all about Greevil in the Cipher entry. Once I was done with the entry, I looked back (this was the non-beta-ed one) and remembered that the leaders always take part in the story in some way, so I quickly spliced in a paragraph talking about him. Admittedly, Cipher was a rushed entry. It was a "Oh! I suddenly have that spark to work on this thing again! Better speed through as much as possible before that spark of creativity runs out again!" kind of deal.
    Thank you! I was afraid no one would understand why I wrote that grunt the way I did, and perhaps even think of it as insulting. But it turned out to be a crowd favorite, so I sure showed me! (Also, it's not like Cyrus is my favorite Team Leader, no sirree! *wink wink*)
    For Team Plasma, I wanted it to be ambiguous to the observant reader as to whether the goleminis were actually sentient or not (making the fight for their rights questionable to begin with), thus further crazy-fying the grunt. After all, you only see crazies advocating equal rights for lampposts.
    Lol, during editing, actually, I went through and added MORE swears because I thought I wasn't being obvious ENOUGH with the "swears = angry" message. Sorry!
    Which is exactly why I didn't do a grunt fic for the Trozei or Ranger grunts. I never played the games, so I would have nothing to draw from.
    ...sequel? If enough people wanted it, I could see myself answering those kinds of questions. Maybe finally put that psychology degree to good use.
    Thank you once again for all the comments, the good and the bad. Whatever crazies they put out in the 7th gen games, I'll be sure to keep these in mind.
     
  16. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    I will admit he is eye candy, but that's about as far as I'll go.

    Yes, I would imagine, is a normal-type. Most likely something in the "nondescript mammal" category, furry and cheerful and not much else.

    Okay what he needs to do, then, is to commission a huge flower-shaped doodad under the city. It doesn't actually have to do anything except pop out of the ground and make a mess.

    Granted, it won't destroy the buildings surrounding it so much as knock them over like dominoes without actually damaging them. But it's a start.
     
  17. The Teller

    The Teller King of Half-Truths

    So Yes is a bear then. And I don't mean the animal...(don't hurt me, bears!)

    No! He needs to shed a single crystal, pure tear as he tries to make the Pokemon universe OUR universe (ie.: Pokemonless)!
     

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