Psychic
Really and truly
This is the first Fic I have ever posted on Serebii, but it's been going strong for a very long time, as you can tell from the fact that this was posted in November of 2004. But believe me when I say I have improved a lot from then.
Here are the current chapters:
Prologue: Outcast
Chapter 1: ‘Death Never Came’
Chapter 2: ‘Tolerance is Rare’
Chapter 3: Part 1: Omens
Chapter 3: Part 2: Omens and Death
Chapter 4: The Messenger
Chapter 5: The First Steps
There is more than one part to some chapters simply because I wanted to leave my readers in some suspence as to how things would play out, though the chapter itself wasnt finished.
Note: All Pokémon will be ‘speaking’ English in this tale, but otherwise, they would be talking in their own language.
Rated PG for content, some blood later on and a few other situations not meant for everyone (not written as of yet). Read only if you don't mind sadness and intollerence.
Disclaimer: Many characters in this fic are thanks to the very talented Dragonfree, who first created the sprites, which I made into a few characters.
And obviously, I don't own Pokémon.
Now please sit back and enjoy...
A lone Grovyle caught his breath in the high branches of one of the tallest sycamore trees in a forest. So close together were the trees that only a few shafts of light penetrated the light green canopy. It was, to any passerby, a wondrous sight, wild Taillow and Spearow swooping and diving in flocks, the sweet aroma of the spores of Oddish and Butterfree filling the air, the odd Trapinch poking its head out from the ground, but the forest’s beauty was lost to the creature. One of his arms supported the rest of the green body upright in a standing position on the thick sycamore branch. The two arms and legs were humanoid, though a pointed reptilian head with two intelligent yellow eyes rested atop it. His stomach and lower jaw was a bright ruby red. From the top of his head grew a long, blue-green leaf, similar to two others growing from his back.
He cast a fearful eye back towards the way he came. He could still hear the shouting of those of his very own species, who had run him out of their nesting area, but just barely. Kendar was lucky to have speed on his side, lucky, yet cursed at the same time.
He looked at his arm, the normal shape and colour of that of a Grovyle, but instead of the few normal leaves used for camouflage in the trees growing from it, there were enough of the dark green leaves to form a bird-like wing, allowing him extra speed and distance when jumping, and even the ability to fly using the wind when well enough, and warm thermals that radiated off the leave strewn ground.
Flight had always seemed like such an amazing thing to him when he was a young Treeko, he reflected, and when he grew older, his wish for flight had started to become a reality.
Kendar remembered quite clearly the day he had finally evolved from his Treeko from; a nasty little male Spearow had picked a fight on his little brother for a reason unknown to him. The simple bird was of strong build, fierce for one so small, he recalled. It had stood in a small opening in the trees, where a ring of sunlight was able to burst through the forest’s protective roof. A black body, cream chest, red wings and sharp pink talons. Two beady black angry eyes were almost lost within the brown feathers that covered its head, and a jagged beak, used for ripping and tearing, Kendar recalled. He had been lucky to have stumbled in on them at that moment. His brother had been close to dying from blood loss, it seemed. When Kendar saw his brother, bloody scratches all over his body, lying spread-eagle on the ground, and face contorted in agony, Kendar had attacked the pesky bird in rage. He had rammed it, while it wasn’t watching, all rational thought leaving his mind. He wanted to make that bird pay! Only Kendar was so young back then, so inexperienced in the middle of his first battle, and it was a fierce one at that.
He remembered fighting with all his might, scratching and kicking and biting, but it had made little difference. In no time at all, the fierce bird had him pinned to the ground, sharp, hooked beak poised to make the final blow while smiling in triumph, something amazing happened; he had evolved. Kendar started to glow a pure, bright light, and grew and grew and grew until he felt he was the size of the sun, when the glow died down and he suddenly was able to kick the Spearow off him with a new found strength.
Newly reborn, Kendar attacked the bird with a will. The battle was finally going his way until it took to the sky. He had glared up at it angrily, soaring and dipping, like the show-offs Spearow were. It was ready to dive bomb him at any moment, Kendar could tell. Finally, the Spearow shot down at him like a falling star, and Kendar only wished he had had a chance to experience flight himself before meeting his end. But he had jumped backwards in the nick on time, merely by reflex, nimbly avoiding collision. He had swept his arms forward when doing this without realizing it, and it was then he noticed the new wings.
He examined them carefully, excitement shining in his bright eyes, and flapped them experimentally. He barely rose an inch. He tried again and again to no avail. Annoyed, Kendar searched his surroundings for something that might assist him, and saw exactly what he needed; a tree with a branch just low enough to get to in a hurry, thick and high enough for his other needs. He scampered over, climbed to the branch and jumped off the end without hesitation, just as a gust of wind was able to pick him up.
For a moment, Kendar had doubted if his plan had worked, seeing as he was already losing altitude. But Kendar quickly learned how to steer; it was quite simple once you understood the basic principals of flight, as he did. This had to do with his obsession with flight ever since he had caught a glimpse of his first Pidgey, not long after his Hatching Day.
And oh, the joy of flying! It was truly wonderful, better than anything he had ever done, floating on the wind like that. The Spearow too, noticed Kendar’s new ability and took to the air with a few strokes of his wings and shouted to Kendar in anger.
“Bacrawww! No earth-crawling Worm is able to fly! You have broken the law of Normalicy! You are an abnormal land-worm! You will pay for this!” and so the little bird started dive bombing him relentlessly, non-stop. It was all Kendar could do to dodge it. The Spearow’s determination scared the Grovyle, but as he floated in the sky, flapping his odd wings, he saw his little brother, lying on the grass, a bruised and bloody mess, just coming round. The Treeko sat up, and began to rub the back of his light green head dizzily. Kendar too, remembered what he was fighting for, and flew towards the bird. He slashed it once with the long blue leaf on his head and the Spearow, in its already weakened state, fell to the ground with a thud.
Glad to be finished, Kendar floated down to his astonished brother. After he landed, he approached his confused brother, and put his hand out to help him up However, instead of taking the hand, the tiny Treeko crawled backwards away from him, long dark green tail dragging along the ground.
“G-g-get away f-from m-me, y-you, y-y-you…freak!” he shouted, his fear showing in his large tearful eyes. Never, in his entire life, would Kendar ever forget the look on his brother’s face; surprise, fear, confusion and agony from his battle prior to his brother’s evolution, shaping his face into one that scared him.
“B-but -” Kendar stuttered in disbelief, trying desperately to understand this sudden fear.
“L-l-leave me alone! You’re no brother of mine!” he cried out. He suddenly sprang up, adrenalin his only source of strength, and ran off, a bloody and bruised mess, back towards the nests.
“But I’m you’re brother. I, I just saved you.” Kendar had whispered to the wind.
Never would Kendar forget that day, not a year ago. When his brother had reached the nesting grounds, he had told everyone, including his own mother, about the entire affair. When Kendar had returned home, he remembered everyone eyeing his odd wings and him with the uttermost loathing. Then they had chased him away, and was pronounced ‘Outcast’. He still heard the steady chant of ‘Outcast, Outcast’ in his darkest dreams at night, as shadowy figures chased him. He had hoped that this news would not reach other colonies, but it had. And so every time he found a new colony that he hoped he could remain with, he was chased out to the steady chanting of ‘Outcast, Outcast’ by young and old alike.
This was the fifth nesting ground he had found, but was once again chased out to the all too familiar chanting. He didn’t know for how much longer he could take it! He pressed onward still, even after the chanting had died down.
“Why must they torment me so?” he questioned to what would seem to any passerby, like an invisible companion. After traveling alone for so long, he, like many lone ones before him, had taken to the habit of talking to himself. “What have I done to them?” he wondered, temper suddenly rising. “I have not hurt them! Never did I do anything wrong!” It was then that a voice at the back of his mind spoke, repeating the words he hadn’t heard in what seemed like eons.
“You have broken the Law of Normalcy! You are an abnormal land-worm!” The words of that Spearow. They had meant nothing to him before, just gibberish. Now, it did mean something.
“I have broken the Law.” he murmured miserably. “The Law of Normalcy, whatever that is.” Kendar tried to imagine in what way he was breaking such a Law, but such reasons eluded him.
Luckily for him, his stomach had other things to think about, such as hunger.
“At least food will keep my mind off such troubling matters.” Kendar thought with a sad smile. He looked up at the sun, noticing how it was right above his head, signifying lunch time.
“Perfect timing too.” he muttered.
Kendar spied an apple tree not too far from him, causing him to smile at his luck. He jumped nimbly over and plucked a few of the riper looking apples from the tree. After eating his fill, he sat himself down on one of the branches while leaning against the tree’s trunk.
“Mmmmm, those sure were good apples!” he said happily, troubles temporarily forgotten. He was in the process of patting his stomach in content, but instead of seeing a ruby coloured stomach, he saw his stomach had taken on an orange-ish pallor.
“What the heck is happening to me?!” he asked aloud.
Hope you all liked it!
Disclaimer: Yup, Kendar was created by Dragonfree. She has the rights to him. I just gave him his character.
Here are the current chapters:
Prologue: Outcast
Chapter 1: ‘Death Never Came’
Chapter 2: ‘Tolerance is Rare’
Chapter 3: Part 1: Omens
Chapter 3: Part 2: Omens and Death
Chapter 4: The Messenger
Chapter 5: The First Steps
There is more than one part to some chapters simply because I wanted to leave my readers in some suspence as to how things would play out, though the chapter itself wasnt finished.
Note: All Pokémon will be ‘speaking’ English in this tale, but otherwise, they would be talking in their own language.
Rated PG for content, some blood later on and a few other situations not meant for everyone (not written as of yet). Read only if you don't mind sadness and intollerence.
Disclaimer: Many characters in this fic are thanks to the very talented Dragonfree, who first created the sprites, which I made into a few characters.
And obviously, I don't own Pokémon.
Now please sit back and enjoy...
Prologue: ‘Outcast’
A lone Grovyle caught his breath in the high branches of one of the tallest sycamore trees in a forest. So close together were the trees that only a few shafts of light penetrated the light green canopy. It was, to any passerby, a wondrous sight, wild Taillow and Spearow swooping and diving in flocks, the sweet aroma of the spores of Oddish and Butterfree filling the air, the odd Trapinch poking its head out from the ground, but the forest’s beauty was lost to the creature. One of his arms supported the rest of the green body upright in a standing position on the thick sycamore branch. The two arms and legs were humanoid, though a pointed reptilian head with two intelligent yellow eyes rested atop it. His stomach and lower jaw was a bright ruby red. From the top of his head grew a long, blue-green leaf, similar to two others growing from his back.
He cast a fearful eye back towards the way he came. He could still hear the shouting of those of his very own species, who had run him out of their nesting area, but just barely. Kendar was lucky to have speed on his side, lucky, yet cursed at the same time.
He looked at his arm, the normal shape and colour of that of a Grovyle, but instead of the few normal leaves used for camouflage in the trees growing from it, there were enough of the dark green leaves to form a bird-like wing, allowing him extra speed and distance when jumping, and even the ability to fly using the wind when well enough, and warm thermals that radiated off the leave strewn ground.
Flight had always seemed like such an amazing thing to him when he was a young Treeko, he reflected, and when he grew older, his wish for flight had started to become a reality.
Kendar remembered quite clearly the day he had finally evolved from his Treeko from; a nasty little male Spearow had picked a fight on his little brother for a reason unknown to him. The simple bird was of strong build, fierce for one so small, he recalled. It had stood in a small opening in the trees, where a ring of sunlight was able to burst through the forest’s protective roof. A black body, cream chest, red wings and sharp pink talons. Two beady black angry eyes were almost lost within the brown feathers that covered its head, and a jagged beak, used for ripping and tearing, Kendar recalled. He had been lucky to have stumbled in on them at that moment. His brother had been close to dying from blood loss, it seemed. When Kendar saw his brother, bloody scratches all over his body, lying spread-eagle on the ground, and face contorted in agony, Kendar had attacked the pesky bird in rage. He had rammed it, while it wasn’t watching, all rational thought leaving his mind. He wanted to make that bird pay! Only Kendar was so young back then, so inexperienced in the middle of his first battle, and it was a fierce one at that.
He remembered fighting with all his might, scratching and kicking and biting, but it had made little difference. In no time at all, the fierce bird had him pinned to the ground, sharp, hooked beak poised to make the final blow while smiling in triumph, something amazing happened; he had evolved. Kendar started to glow a pure, bright light, and grew and grew and grew until he felt he was the size of the sun, when the glow died down and he suddenly was able to kick the Spearow off him with a new found strength.
Newly reborn, Kendar attacked the bird with a will. The battle was finally going his way until it took to the sky. He had glared up at it angrily, soaring and dipping, like the show-offs Spearow were. It was ready to dive bomb him at any moment, Kendar could tell. Finally, the Spearow shot down at him like a falling star, and Kendar only wished he had had a chance to experience flight himself before meeting his end. But he had jumped backwards in the nick on time, merely by reflex, nimbly avoiding collision. He had swept his arms forward when doing this without realizing it, and it was then he noticed the new wings.
He examined them carefully, excitement shining in his bright eyes, and flapped them experimentally. He barely rose an inch. He tried again and again to no avail. Annoyed, Kendar searched his surroundings for something that might assist him, and saw exactly what he needed; a tree with a branch just low enough to get to in a hurry, thick and high enough for his other needs. He scampered over, climbed to the branch and jumped off the end without hesitation, just as a gust of wind was able to pick him up.
For a moment, Kendar had doubted if his plan had worked, seeing as he was already losing altitude. But Kendar quickly learned how to steer; it was quite simple once you understood the basic principals of flight, as he did. This had to do with his obsession with flight ever since he had caught a glimpse of his first Pidgey, not long after his Hatching Day.
And oh, the joy of flying! It was truly wonderful, better than anything he had ever done, floating on the wind like that. The Spearow too, noticed Kendar’s new ability and took to the air with a few strokes of his wings and shouted to Kendar in anger.
“Bacrawww! No earth-crawling Worm is able to fly! You have broken the law of Normalicy! You are an abnormal land-worm! You will pay for this!” and so the little bird started dive bombing him relentlessly, non-stop. It was all Kendar could do to dodge it. The Spearow’s determination scared the Grovyle, but as he floated in the sky, flapping his odd wings, he saw his little brother, lying on the grass, a bruised and bloody mess, just coming round. The Treeko sat up, and began to rub the back of his light green head dizzily. Kendar too, remembered what he was fighting for, and flew towards the bird. He slashed it once with the long blue leaf on his head and the Spearow, in its already weakened state, fell to the ground with a thud.
Glad to be finished, Kendar floated down to his astonished brother. After he landed, he approached his confused brother, and put his hand out to help him up However, instead of taking the hand, the tiny Treeko crawled backwards away from him, long dark green tail dragging along the ground.
“G-g-get away f-from m-me, y-you, y-y-you…freak!” he shouted, his fear showing in his large tearful eyes. Never, in his entire life, would Kendar ever forget the look on his brother’s face; surprise, fear, confusion and agony from his battle prior to his brother’s evolution, shaping his face into one that scared him.
“B-but -” Kendar stuttered in disbelief, trying desperately to understand this sudden fear.
“L-l-leave me alone! You’re no brother of mine!” he cried out. He suddenly sprang up, adrenalin his only source of strength, and ran off, a bloody and bruised mess, back towards the nests.
“But I’m you’re brother. I, I just saved you.” Kendar had whispered to the wind.
Never would Kendar forget that day, not a year ago. When his brother had reached the nesting grounds, he had told everyone, including his own mother, about the entire affair. When Kendar had returned home, he remembered everyone eyeing his odd wings and him with the uttermost loathing. Then they had chased him away, and was pronounced ‘Outcast’. He still heard the steady chant of ‘Outcast, Outcast’ in his darkest dreams at night, as shadowy figures chased him. He had hoped that this news would not reach other colonies, but it had. And so every time he found a new colony that he hoped he could remain with, he was chased out to the steady chanting of ‘Outcast, Outcast’ by young and old alike.
This was the fifth nesting ground he had found, but was once again chased out to the all too familiar chanting. He didn’t know for how much longer he could take it! He pressed onward still, even after the chanting had died down.
“Why must they torment me so?” he questioned to what would seem to any passerby, like an invisible companion. After traveling alone for so long, he, like many lone ones before him, had taken to the habit of talking to himself. “What have I done to them?” he wondered, temper suddenly rising. “I have not hurt them! Never did I do anything wrong!” It was then that a voice at the back of his mind spoke, repeating the words he hadn’t heard in what seemed like eons.
“You have broken the Law of Normalcy! You are an abnormal land-worm!” The words of that Spearow. They had meant nothing to him before, just gibberish. Now, it did mean something.
“I have broken the Law.” he murmured miserably. “The Law of Normalcy, whatever that is.” Kendar tried to imagine in what way he was breaking such a Law, but such reasons eluded him.
Luckily for him, his stomach had other things to think about, such as hunger.
“At least food will keep my mind off such troubling matters.” Kendar thought with a sad smile. He looked up at the sun, noticing how it was right above his head, signifying lunch time.
“Perfect timing too.” he muttered.
Kendar spied an apple tree not too far from him, causing him to smile at his luck. He jumped nimbly over and plucked a few of the riper looking apples from the tree. After eating his fill, he sat himself down on one of the branches while leaning against the tree’s trunk.
“Mmmmm, those sure were good apples!” he said happily, troubles temporarily forgotten. He was in the process of patting his stomach in content, but instead of seeing a ruby coloured stomach, he saw his stomach had taken on an orange-ish pallor.
“What the heck is happening to me?!” he asked aloud.
Hope you all liked it!
Disclaimer: Yup, Kendar was created by Dragonfree. She has the rights to him. I just gave him his character.
Last edited:
you are at a lack of female freaks, but it is early in the story. Leave it to me to notice that.