UPNetwork  

Go Back   UPNetwork > General Forums > Fanart & Fanfiction

Reply
 
Thread Tools
Old 12-25-2011, 11:33 AM   #26
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

A curiously humble wrapping paper, just little and blue.

Hanako: Apparently Hana can't write when her brother's watching.
Hana: Shut up.


But yeah, downright minimalist wrapping paper compared to some of the displays we've seen today. Coming from YUKI.N, fulfilling a writing request for deoxys. Apparently this is rated R for ridiculousness and bad words and various whatnots.

Quote:
Originally Posted by deoxys
Pokemon, if it was real and happened on Earth. What would it be like? How would it affect the way we live? What kinds of laws and such would there be? How would they interact with real animals? Obviously, make a story to go with it or it wouldn't be a fanfic! (I hope this is considered simple!)
Spoiler: show
“I’m telling you, Don, I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”

“Relax, Mary, it’s only a trial period. Few days, tops.”

“How can you sleep knowing that… That thing is under our roof?”

“It’s not under the roof. It’s sleeping in a kennel outside, remember?”

“I still don’t like it. I saw the children try to feed it on their way to school. I don’t want them going anywhere near the beast.”

“I’ll have a word with them. But the district assured me it’s been trained to obey humans, so it shouldn’t cause any harm. Just think of it as a regular dog.”

“What kind of a dog has horns?!”

“…”

“Don, I saw it breathe fire.”

“At the kids?”

“At another dog, but that’s beside the point!”

Officer Don watched as his wife fretted back and forth across the floor of their small bedroom, every so often casting a wary glance out the window at the small house in the garden. All she could see when she squinted into the pitch black was a barbed tail poking through the wire holes, sleek and serpentine. She shuddered and sat on the bed, frostily refusing her husband’s warm embrace.

“It’s a hellhound. That’s what it is. The apocalypse is here, and it’s come to tell us we’re all doomed.”

“Now, I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Have you seen the news lately?”

She snapped, and reached for the remote. The ghastly information tube clicked to life,

“…reports of what locals claim appears to be a dragon sighted around the county area. Residents are advised to stay indoors…”

“You hear that? A dragon!”

“Hush, keep your voice down. You’ll wake the baby.”

Mary’s eyes darted to the baby monitor on the nightstand, staring at the unfamiliar technology as in a trance. Gingerly she picked the receiver up and cradled it soft in her hand in place of the newborn, listening to the deep, quiet breathing on the other end. Her husband placed a secure hand on her shoulder, which felt cold even through her nightgown. The trembling ceased, but her face looked so pale and frail that Don was the one afraid he might be in danger of losing his love. That she would turn into a ghost at any moment and his hand would pass right through her onto the sheets, and she’d float somewhere far away he couldn’t reach. Only when he sensed her own fingertips and cheek gently graze his knuckles did he feel safe.

“I’m scared, Don. What is the world coming to?”

“I don’t know, dear. But we’ll get through it. Humans are remarkably adaptable.”

A weak laugh. “You know, I heard a rumor from that crazy hacker teen down the street that NASA’s been working on a device that can capture these ‘monsters’ and shrink them down to fit in your pocket. Can you imagine that?”

Don chuckled and carefully replaced the baby monitor in its stand, then silenced the reporter as she was about to launch into a story about swarms of sentient shrooms causing traffic jams along the I-11. “Next thing you know we’ll have a bunch of hooligans running around with ‘pocket monsters’ and trying to beat each other up like you see in those dumb cartoons.”

“Dear lord, I hope not. It’s bad enough those “R” group terrorists are practically running the country. What the hell is the government doing?”

Don shook his head. “I don’t know. But for now the police are doing what they can on a local level to keep the situation in check. That’s why we had to trade in (what was left of) the K9 unit for these creatures. Those bastards would murder us otherwise. Some of those fiends can even block bullets.”

Mary nodded feebly. “I understand. I just… Don’t trust any of them. For a dog to breathe fire, or a rat to cause electrocution… It’s not natural.” She turned a pleading gaze to her husband. “I knew when I married a cop it’d be dangerous, but I never imagined anything like this to happen. Won’t you consider early retirement? You’ve served the force for 15 years, that’s plenty long enough.”

“You know this is something I can’t give up on. Besides, in this economy, we should be considered lucky to even have jobs. If I want to keep mine, I have to upgrade to the new system. Those are the rules. Which means getting familiar with my… ‘Partner’. If we can’t work together, it would jeopardize the entire team’s safety out in the field.”

After years of marriage, Mary knew when it was useless to try and get the man to budge once he’d made up his mind. She sighed and tried her next best tactic, which was to lie down and sulk while drawing the covers over her. Don was hurt, but knew he could always apologize and make up to her in the morning.

He didn’t dare tell her that the bureau was issuing prototypes of the new “battle capsules” to all participating officers next week. Not that he was supposed to. He also couldn’t let slip any confidential information about the terrorists, whose name so far had only been released to the public under their red letter insignia. The government was keeping their involvement with the defense program well under wraps, in order to avoid tracing back connections to the original firm that started this whole mess in the first place.

Most were unaware, but everything began in a small, publicly-funded research lab. Like something ripped straight out of a science-fiction novel, a team discovered how to mutate animal genes to give them what could only be described as superpowers. The experiments were soon replicated all over the country and even leaked abroad. Then, thanks to an organized attack by animal rights activists – possibly with the help of internal conspirists – thousands of specimens escaped. Since then, the State Institute of Life Project Health evolved into a monopoly corporation that manufactured specific equipment meant to aid public security. SILPH quickly overtook Apple as the nation’s largest tech company, dominating even the global industry. They were the ones behind the major development of the Pocket Ball™, not NASA.

Amidst all the chaos, an organized crime syndicate rose to power by taming some of the monsters and using them to carry out their own dirty schemes. This organization, self-designated as Team Rocket, had its influence in nearly every political sector. Evidence from backhanded business transactions seemed to suggest they might even have full, if not indirect control over SILPH’s operations.

Don paused and assuaged his eyes; he’d found himself staying up past 1AM, poring over all the various intel he’d gathered in an attempt to relieve his own restlessness. Months’ worth of private investigation was contained in this folder, which he finally felt confident to hand to the Chief first thing in the morning. As he closed the file, he glanced at Mary, who was already fast asleep. The old girl did have a point: The world was going to hell, and somebody needed to do something.

In fact, Team Rocket’s exploits were hardly the only matter of concern. Normal animal species were becoming endangered by the hundreds, as the fastforwarded process of natural selection favored mutants that could spit fire or crush steel. As much as the people called for decisive action, the broad community was often divided in opinion on what should be done. Ironically, animal support groups and extreme eco-terrorists took both sides of the issue, and as such the police were left trying to deal with moral disputes in addition to every isolated incident. Their lives were so occupied that they could hardly focus on the bigger picture. Problems ranged from calls by worried pet owners to report a housecat chased up a tree by a giant insect, to rally protests to stop the hunting and enslaving of creatures in the name of public safety.

What bothered Don the most, however, was the reported rising trend in the youth demographic that adolescents found these creatures “cool” and fascinating. Perhaps violent video games and television were to blame for fantasy escapism, but increasingly they’d get frantic calls from parents whose kids ran off to try and challenge the wild beasts in order to “catch” them. Many complained the police were setting a bad example by patrolling with their new team members, a protocol now required as both a safety precaution and a measure of fostering familiarity.

Though he didn’t think much of it at the time, Don was reminded of an event earlier in the day when he was attempting to go through a normal guard dog routine with it in the garden, and the creepy teenager Mary mentioned came over to watch from outside the fence.

“…That’s not how you train ‘em.”

He announced dully after a while.

Don turned to stare sternly at his critic, who responded with a goofy grin that made the man suspect the boy was on drugs.

“You gotta give it the name of an attack. Like BITE or HOWL.”

At that moment, a small squirrel darted across the lawn, stopping short a foot away from the beast’s razor claws. Though the canine didn’t budge an inch, Don sensed its slitted eye swivel towards him.

“It’s waiting for a command.” The teen leaned eagerly forward against the fence. Gradually, the corners of his mouth curled from a slight smirk into a sneer. “Why don’t you try telling it to use FLAMETHROWER?”

The beast appeared to tense at the word, a low growl escaping its throat. “Leave it,” Don snapped, and the rumbling immediately ceased, which the squirrel took as its cue to scamper safely away. Then, to the disappointed onlooker: “Kid, I think you’d better go home. Leave this to the professionals.”

“The only way to get stronger is by defeating your opponents, you know,” the boy muttered, seemingly to himself. “How else are you going to become the very best? The best there ever was?” Half-humming the last phrase, he sauntered off down the sidewalk.

The kid was obviously high, Don thought. The man had watched him leave with half a mind to chase after and bust him, but in the end he decided to let it go. He couldn’t leave the creature unattended in a residential area without a chain, and taking it out on the street at this stage would invite more unwanted attention. He let the boy off the hook for today, but the next time Don saw him he’d have some questions for him.

It wasn’t just kids who were proving to be strangely spellbound by these creatures’ special abilities. Many of the new recruits down at the station were ecstatic to finally receive their own partners; some were even looking forward to it after having first seen the handlers’ demonstration and upon hearing successful implementation stories from other districts. Don would often pass by the proverbial water cooler to hear officers boasting to each other about how tough his own monster was, and there were even some whispers of betting over backlot dogfights. Though he had no proof of illegal practice yet, once the Chief was made aware of the depths of the Rockets’ corruption within the system, Don would urge him to also launch an internal investigation.

As for himself… Don wasn’t sure how he felt about all the changes. He believed in his own creed that adaptability was necessary for survival, so he had accepted the new laws and duties without complaint, simply carrying out his daily business as usual. But he was avoiding the real question. As he gazed towards the window, he tried to imagine what sort of appeal such a bizarre creature would hold for some. When he brought it home, even his own son excitedly exclaimed that he wanted to become a cop when he grew up so he could have one of his own. Though Don had no interest in abusing power or status, he had to admit it gave him a bit of a thrill when he paraded the oddity around the block to the admiration and awe of passerby.

On the flip side, he wasn’t exactly as afraid of it as Mary and most other sensible persons were. A bit nervous, perhaps, but the kid and the handlers were right about one thing: It would never act unless told to. After a couple days of close training together, he’d come to the conclusion it was about as tame and trustworthy as a normal dog, perhaps even more so. Who knows, despite its terrifying appearance, it might even be family-friendly if Mary would give the thing a chance.

It was nearly 3AM when he heard it. As he was drifting off to sleep, thinking he might try to slowly condition it and his wife to each other’s presence, a loud bark jolted him awake. Followed by another. This time was higher, almost frantic. There was a snarling, then a banging, a crash, a yelp, whine, and then silence. Jumping out of bed, Don hastened to the window and opened it. For some reason, the garden was lit brightly enough for him to see the kennel door was ajar, or more accurately, ripped apart. Bent and warped as if something had clawed and rammed into it repeatedly, it dangled haphazardly on its hinge. The beast was nowhere to be seen.

“Damnit!” Don cursed, and was about to run downstairs to phone in a report that one of the monsters went mad and was on the loose in the suburbs when he smelled something that stopped him cold…

Smoke. He stuck his head out the window, and saw to his alarm that the light wasn’t coming from the streetlamps, but from the orange glow of flames that were licking at the lower levels of his house. He reeled back, hitting his head against the frame with such force that he nearly blacked out. Focusing all his remaining consciousness into his lungs and feet, he managed to scream out as he stumbled to the bed where his wife was still sleeping.

“Mary! Wake up! There’s a fire!”

Mary woke with a start to see her husband clutching his head, which appeared to be bleeding. “Don? What’s going on? What happened to you? Are you all right?” Before she even received an answer, she found herself being helped out of bed and pushed towards the door. “Don, what-”

“Get Zack and Emy, and take them outside. Hurry. The house is on fire.”

The look of concern became replaced with one of shock and fear. “What about Isabelle?”

“I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry. Just go!”

She nodded and ran to the kids’ bedroom closer to the stairs, and Don staggered down the hallway in the opposite direction. He coughed, feeling the heat and smog rising from the first floor. As he prayed for the other three to make it out safely, he reached out for the nursery door handle. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash coming from within the room, and he flung the door open to a sight that nearly made his heart stop: There the creature stood atop a carpet of broken glass, presumably from the shattered window behind it, through which branches of the large oak in the garden could be seen waving. What commanded all of Don’s concentration though, was the image of his darling daughter wrapped in a blanket, hanging from the slavering jaws of the beast.

“Drop her. This instant.”

In a blind rage, he stumbled forward, and pierced his feet on the numerous shards. Crying out in pain, he would’ve fallen face-first into a sea of tiny spears had the beast not sprang forward to steady him. He felt the creature’s warm snout gently but firmly nudge him towards the door, and thankful acknowledgement dawned on him. Securing its own hold of the precious bundle, it allowed the wounded man to tightly grip its fur for support as it led him to the stairs. The heat and haze barely seemed to affect its purpose as it carefully navigated the living room, finally emerging through the open front door onto the safety of the lawn.

Once they were a fair distance away from the blaze, the creature deposited its tiny passenger on the cool grass with utmost care, unharmed and still fast asleep. Don reached down and affectionately rubbed the Houndoom’s head.

“Thank you.”

He then turned to look for his wife and other children, feeling safe in knowing they must have gotten out since the door was left open. He was so absorbed in scanning the street for signs of them, that he didn’t register the sound of snarling in the direction of the house until it barked.

“What is it, girl?” He turned, and what he saw made his blood truly run cold.

Towering over him was a massive form that could only be accurately described as belonging to a dragon. From the tips of its horns, to its vellum wings, down a humongous body covered in golden scales, culminating in a long lizard tail – as if these didn’t scream fantastical, its end was torched in flame, burning fiercely yet mysteriously seeming to support the bearer’s life rather than injure it.

Clutched in its giant claws was a familiar figure – Mary’s.

“Tch. How boring. I was hoping at least one of you would burn.”

Like a trance, Don rotated to face the speaker. It was the boy from earlier, standing on the other side of the fence this time. He was wearing a black shirt with a character printed on the front, fully illuminated by the roaring inferno: A shining, blood-red R.

His eyes lit up when he approached the frozen man. “Is that what I think it is? I’m amazed you thought to bring it to me while your house was burning down, but I guess it’s convenient. Hand it over.”

It took Don a moment to realize the teen was pointing at something he was holding. He uncrumpled the file detailing Team Rocket’s underground activities for the past year, and held it out, hands shaking.

“You can have it. Just please, let my wife and kids go.”

The teen blinked. “Kids? Oh, you mean those brats. They’re already dead. Those whiny little things are hardly more than a snack for Brutus here. Want to see what he did to them?”

“No! Don’t!”

Hearing voices, Mary’s eyes flickered open for an instant. The frightened face of her husband swam hazily in and out of her vision. “Don…”

“CRUNCH.”

Don sank to his knees. His Houndoom had leapt forward to try and save her, but it was too late. A wide sweep of the dragon’s tail knocked her back, just as the woman’s blood splattered all over the lawn, staining even the pure white covers of the sleeping infant.

The boy strolled forth and reached out for the folder, which had also dropped to the earth. Don snapped back in control for a moment and made a grab for the file, struggling to his feet. There was nothing more the boy could do to him, he was simply an empty shell that operated on instinct alone. Likewise he knew there was nothing he could do, but he had to know.

“Why are you doing this?”

The boy grinned like it was his birthday, as if he had been waiting for that question.

“Don’t you know Team Rocket’s motto? ‘To protect the world from devastation! To unite all peoples within our nation!’ …But honestly, I could care less about that shit. I just wanted to say it once.”

“Then why?”

To his horror, the boy shrugged. “Because it’s friggin’ awesome. Plus I can get back at bullies and stuff this way.” He laughed. “Fuck humans. Fuck society. Gotta kill ‘em all.”

“…You’re insane.”

“Whatever. Now give me the file.”

“No. Houndoom, use BITE!”

The dog’s fangs sank into the boy’s hand as he reached again for the folder. He cursed and ordered ‘Brutus’ to attack with an AIR SLASH. A sharp gale cut across the Houndoom’s belly, forcing her to relinquish her hold. Don felt some of the remaining impact, and winced as it stung like a razor, knocking the wind out of him.

“See? This is why humans are weak, and deserve to die. Like this, watch. Blade, use SLASH!”

Don suddenly felt something sharp plunge into his backside. He looked down and realized what appeared to be a scythe sticking out from his chest. There was a horrible squelching sound as it retreated back into his cavity and out the other side, and he fell to the ground, choking and sputtering some warm, red liquid. His vision blurred. He could barely make out something white lying on the ground next to him, and a dark figure crouched above.

“Save… Isabelle…”

He whispered with the last of his breath. The darkness obeyed, picking up the white bundle and racing off with it into the distance. He could hear the boy’s gloating voice, floating close yet far away at the same time.

“Let it go. It’s our alibi. People will think it started the fire, and attacked the residents as they came out of the house. Go and check if there are any witnesses. If you find any, you know what to do. They’ll just blame it all on a rogue monster that escaped its Master, and focus on capturing it instead.”

As his sight slowly darkened, he saw another shadow hunch over him. Despite his failing senses, there was no mistaking it was human this time. He vaguely registered an object being wrenched out of his clamped hand.

The final sentence Officer Don heard before his death was then posed to him in the form of a riddle:

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. What do you get when you add another stroke to the letter P?”

Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light…

Surrender now or prepare to fight.


Spoiler: show
*insert "Ashton Kutcher wants to be the very best" joke here*
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:35 AM   #27
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

Borrowing Kuno's laser wrapping paper for this occasion, we have an art request fulfillment from Hanatori to phoopes. Prepare for lazers. With a Z.

Quote:
Originally Posted by phoopes
I'd like someone to draw a Octillery/Dr. Octagonapus fusion, if that's even possible. Or at least Octillery drawn in the style of Dr. Octagonapus. Crazy request, but I think it'd be cool!
Spoiler: show
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:39 AM   #28
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

Hanako: Hana, the box is waggling...

Indeed it is! Here we have another art request, this one from Kindrindra, fulfilled by our very own Tyranidos, who reportedly spent many, many hours drawing a Raichu for this one.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Kindrindra
Mew in a Manger
Spoiler: show
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:41 AM   #29
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

Speaking of Tyranidos, here we have another request from him, this time fulfilled by Copygoo:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Tyranidos
Your best interpretation of "WTF is Paiankylo?"
Spoiler: show














__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:47 AM   #30
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

Here we have a different holiday represented, with empoleon dynamite fulfilling an art request from Kindrindra and hoping his take isn't offensive:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Kindrindra
A Kwanzaa Chandelure (OMG SO FITTING)
Spoiler: show
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:57 AM   #31
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

A pair of lightning bolt-patterned presents land on Hana's lap.

Hey, newly arrived! Here we have an art request fulfilled by SP-Eevee for DaveTheFishGuy:

Quote:
Originally Posted by DaveTheFishGuy
Swamp setting, a Toxicroak squatting near water, gazing into a pool while an Arbok slithers up to it to do the same.
Spoiler: show


A wooden box, inscribed with Applejack's cutie mark, hits Hana square in the back.

Ow! Hey... Ah, here are deoxys's art requests. It appears he's been working hard on his two requests as well, for Kairne and Poke_Hunter, and wanted to show what he's done so far! For reference, his two requests were as follows, and he remains hard at work on them as I type this message:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Kairne
A shiny Cubchoo, sitting on a Mall Santa's lap, and sucking on a candy cane. I also ask that he has a necklace with the astrological symbol for Mercury, circumscribed with a heart.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Poke_Hunter
Battlecut of Blaziken/Serperior/Marshtomp/Luxray/Galvantula/Druddigon. Pretty self explanatory; examples in Daisy's Thread.
And here's SP-Eevee's second art request, done for Shadowshocker:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Shadowshocker
I'm interested in another person's interpretation of Sector Shadow; either the Experiments, or Ben 10 operatives, or the non-themed members like Grim the Dusknoir. To keep things simple, though, I'd like to request a pose of my cartoon avatar (you know, the one posing in And Then There Were 10) with at least one other of my PASBL squad members, if that's alright. I'm thinking of SS' expression bearing his usual warface (D:<) or on the verge of a breakthrough (Eureka! >) - anything that would reasonably be in character for a consistently maniacal and pessimistic scientist - and whichever 'mon with him is in a complementary actiony pose. The choice of 'mon or 'mons is entirely up to whoever's doing this.
Spoiler: show


And with that, I'm pretty sure I've posted all the submissions I've received so far. If anyone who hasn't submitted yet finishes their stuff up, they should feel free to post it--all I ask is that they bold the names of the requester/requestee and do the quote for request/spoiler for story/image format. If you did submit yours and I forgot to post it somehow, let me know, or just post it yourself. If I get any more submissions in my inbox, I'll be around later this afternoon to post 'em. Happy holidays to everyone!
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 12:04 PM   #32
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Jumpluff

And speaking of little blue wrapping paper and yours truly being a dork, I plum (HA!) forgot to post YUKI.N's fulfilled art request for Kairne! Silly, silly...

Quote:
Originally Posted by Kairne
A Frillish, a Misdreavus, and a Sableye, dressed as the Hex Girls from Scooby Doo. Frillish is Dusk, Misdreavus is Thorn, and Sableye is Luna, from left to right, respectively. Picture reference is here, in the same order.
Spoiler: show
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 12:10 PM   #33
Copygoo
超高校級 写真師
 
Copygoo's Avatar
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Hope's Peak Academy
Posts: 2,723
Welp.

That was fun.

QUICK SOMEBODY ORGANIZE SOMETHING
__________________
asb

[i can't believe all of the things they say about me]
Copygoo is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 12:12 PM   #34
JustAnotherUser
Only Mostly Lurking
 
JustAnotherUser's Avatar
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: England, UK
Posts: 2,297
Send a message via Skype™ to JustAnotherUser
Oh man, that looks really cool so far deo!

EDIT: Oh, and I'm going to do a bonus giftart tomorrow and post it here, so keep your eyes peeled!
__________________
[JAU]
Spoiler: show
JustAnotherUser is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 12:17 PM   #35
DaveTheFishGuy
Primordial Fishbeast
 
DaveTheFishGuy's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2010
Posts: 12,258
Send a message via Skype™ to DaveTheFishGuy
Wasn't expecting gijinka (sp?), but that's really awesome, Speevy. Thanks :]

{resumes writing requests because he's a terrible person}
DaveTheFishGuy is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 02:30 PM   #36
Tyranidos
beebooboobopbooboobop
 
Tyranidos's Avatar
 
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Krusty Krab
Posts: 3,800
Send a message via AIM to Tyranidos Send a message via MSN to Tyranidos
Thanks Kuno and Copy for doing those shitty requests. I thoroughly enjoyed both submissions.
__________________
Tyranidos is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 02:45 PM   #37
DaisyInari
Sarasaland represent!
 
DaisyInari's Avatar
 
Join Date: Oct 2010
Location: Whorelando
Posts: 2,327
Send a message via MSN to DaisyInari
Altaria

why

why did I have to miss this

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

DONT WORRY GAIS AS SOON AS IM ABLE TO DRAW WITH MY TABLET AGAIN I WILL DRAW EVERYONE EVERYTHING

:o Everyone did fantastic with their secret santas! I enjoyed looking/reading them all~ Some were cute, some were funny, and all were EPIC~

I swear a lot of you guys are awesome artists why don't you draw more
__________________

Hi, I'm Daisy!

Spoiler: show
W(DQ)- 22(3) L(DQ)-14(0)
KO-55
TP-131 SP- 64.5/96.5 (5SP to Deh, 5SP to FW, 5SP to Desert Spirit, 8.5SP to Fallen Icarus, 10SP to Kyro12, 8SP to Charminions, 10 to aposteriori)
SHUCKS I GOTTA FIX THIS SOMETIME
~TL3~

~Fizzy Bubbles~


Credits to Charm for making this!


Come, my birdies!!!! Mwahahahaha!!!!!!


Thanks Pingu for being so nice and making me this~


Credit to TheKnightsFury for the sprite!

Fear my abnormally large signature~

Be Positive Ref~ I <3 you, Lonely Cubone and those who eval'd me~
DaisyInari is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 02:47 PM   #38
Slash
Silver LO
 
Slash's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: Tokyo Underground Sewage Facility
Posts: 6,760
Send a message via Yahoo to Slash Send a message via Skype™ to Slash
thanks bunches, Yuki, that pic is beatiful. And it looks awesome so far, deoxys, thanks. Sorry the latter part of mine was so shite, computer charger had problems.
__________________
--- ---
Quote:
Originally Posted by Sneezey12 View Post
KAIRNE I WILL RIP OFF YOUR SCROTUM AND FEED IT TO YOU THROUGH A FUCKING SWIRLY STRAW.

Slash is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 08:10 PM   #39
Shuckle
Problematic Fave
 
Shuckle's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: VA
Posts: 3,199
Working on that eggnog, and also a story that is interesting in its impression of Christmas...er...cheer?
__________________
Shuckle is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 10:34 PM   #40
phoopes
Double Dragon
 
phoopes's Avatar
 
Join Date: Nov 2011
Posts: 3,776
@Jeri: You are awesome. Hilarious story. Certainly not what I expected.

@Hana: That picture is freakin' epic. You are awesome.
__________________
phoopes is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-25-2011, 11:23 PM   #41
Jerichi
プラスチック♡ラブ
 
Jerichi's Avatar
 
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: 蒸気の波の中
Posts: 14,766
>@Jeri: You are awesome. Hilarious story. Certainly not what I expected.

Yay~ Glad you liked it~
Jerichi is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-26-2011, 01:56 PM   #42
JustAnotherUser
Only Mostly Lurking
 
JustAnotherUser's Avatar
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: England, UK
Posts: 2,297
Send a message via Skype™ to JustAnotherUser
You know how I said I'd post a Bonus Giftart?

Spoiler: show

Happy Birthday, Daisy!
__________________
[JAU]
Spoiler: show

Last edited by JustAnotherUser; 12-27-2011 at 03:41 AM.
JustAnotherUser is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-26-2011, 09:41 PM   #43
Hanatori
Skippy.
 
Hanatori's Avatar
 
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: In all the colouring in pictures
Posts: 2,493
Shuckle

It's the day after Christmas, the tree is down, and all of a sudden there's a Shuckle shell-patterned box on the floor. No guesses as to who this one's from (*cough* Shuckle), though you do get points for guessing who it's for. It's for Handymankg2, silly. And I don't know about you, but this whole thing is making me want to sing "RE: Your Brains" really loudly, but this isn't a Halloween thread.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Handymankg2
On Christmas Eve, someone gives the world a nasty present. A radioactive piece of rubbish is discarded in an alleyway, which when absorbed into a Garbodor, causes a zombie infection! The infection spreads as the bells ring out for Christmas day...
Spoiler: show
It's beginning to look a lot like zombies
Soon the dead will rise
And the thing that will make them moan
Is the brain that you now own
Right within your head!

There must have been some magic in
That old dead guy they found,
For when his teeth closed on her arm
She began to shamble around
Oh,
Tina the Zombie
Feasted very well that day
With a chilling laugh
She coughed and spat,
"I'll be back again someday!"

It was a cold winter's night on Christmas Eve, and George could hardly wait to get home. He knew it was probably an irresponsible and dangerous thing to do to simply drop the toxic waste in the woodland clearing, but snow was piling up and he couldn't see how dangerous the few milliliters of sludge could possibly be. If he didn't hurry, he wouldn't ever get home.
Indecision crossed his chilled brow and, with a heavy sigh, he packed the box, sealed and coated with lead, back into its protective layer in the truck's nearly empty back. He needed to get home to his kids, but he needed to deliver this package first before he could go anywhere. Climbing back into the cab of the truck, he pushed the gas pedal and drove off through the gathering snow. Behind him, a small yellow-green splotch on the snow glimmered ominously and disappeared.
George was not to know the consequences of his fatal mistake. After all, he didn't live in America, and the plane trip home to Spain was brief, boring and right on time. His wife and kids were safe and protected from the disastrous consequences, and the Spanish winter was warm and inviting until news began to trickle across the Atlantic.
In the forest clearing, a lone Grimer, spawned from the sewage of a faraway city and chased out by other, larger members of is species and others, slithered just next to the toxic slime. It stopped, suddenly curious, and slid around a bit, checking for the filth it craved. Finally, it squelched onto the yellow-green splotch, and absorbed it, glowing white as it transformed into a larger, more squelchy and toxic and all-around more lovable Muk. It was yellow-green, however, and only caught a single glimpse of the world until sharp teeth and a vacuum sucked up the gunk it was made of. The Garbodor laughed a sticky laugh as it inhaled its prey and waddled off, unaware of the changes gong on inside its own body...
Later that night, the Garbodor, helpful and a newer, lighter, more sickly color, waddled uncertainly into the town. What happened after that is unclear, but many Pokemon and humans were indeed hospitalized that night for Garbodor bites, and after that the doctors of those specific hospitals were wandering the streets, nibbling on anyone they saw and with nasty gashes on their hands and arms and legs and faces.
The infection had begun.
When the bells tolled that morning, several patients were dead, from lack of care, and several more doctors were almost dead. Which is to say, they were dead and still they moved. Lesions and purple bruising was beginning to show on many of the afflicted, and still they walked, some with more difficulty than others. At exactly three minutes to ten that morning the President of the United States was bitten, and things just went downhill from there.
There was no rescue attempt, there was no stamping out the infection. The dead were up, and no cameraman took good enough of a picture to satisfy the rest of the nation before passing away himself.
Finally, a reporter and her intrepid crew managed to get video rolling and live long enough to catch their own gruesome deaths at the hands of Patient Two, a young man whose name used to be Philip.
"Hello, what's your name?" asked the reporter brightly.
"Braaaaaains..." replied the ashen-faced Philip. He wore a ripped tuxedo and was a very skinny individual. He appeared to be missing his left arm, and the reporter pointed out that fact in the blunt, insensitive manner most reporters have when asking questions of that nature. Philip - oh, sorry, Braaaaaains, with the six a's - responded by politely biting a chunk of her face off and then running at superhuman speed towards the camera crew, eating bits of them and screaming unintelligible things. The reporter, turning grayer by the second, stood up and turned towards the camera, saying only one thing.
"You cannot stop us. You cannot kill us. You can only sit and watch as your entire race is annihilated." She turned and limped off, blood spattering on pavement as she gnawed on the Christmas hat she was wearing as part of the broadcast.
Needless to say, this inspired no small amout of panic and speculation on the American Internet, but for the overseas nation, nothing was felt. Nobody watched the news on Christmas! And this year, nobody did.
In America, the tension was mounting as more and more succumbed to the undead threat. The zombies were speaking now, saying unintelligible things, and they were planning, too. Their solitary goal seemed to be the eradication of humankind and Pokekind, and they accomplished this over the entire continent in a matter of hours, cutting the population of everything by a factor of 100 and some completely vanishing off the face of the earth. Curiously, the Beeheeyem, Alakazam, Metagross, Nidoking, Nidoqueen, Wigglytuff, Musharna, Delcatty, and Clefable lines were not to be seen that Christmas, but nobody commented on that. It was just one coincidence among many, like the fact that nobody prophesized doom on Christmas Day.
The disaster could probably have been averted but for the existence of Steel, Rock, Grass, and Psychic type Pokemon. At eight minutes to four the last blade of grass had been converted from peaceful vegetation to bitingly cruel transforming machine, and electronic devices were biting back. Cars were undrivable and untouchable, and the pavement had teeth. Blood littered the entire continent, and by nine o'clock that evening there was nothing in the Americas but the dead.
Slowly, very slowly, the continent began to sink. Turning gray and foring into shapeless mush, it fell into the ocean and was never seen again by living eyes.
All of the televisions in the world received their final broadcast - a pair of glaring red eyes that flashed out of every set in the world, on or off.
"Merry Christmas. Ahahahahaha!"
__________________
The UPN Secret Santa presents thread is here! Check it out!
"I'm glad to know I made your theoretical signature quote." ~Jerichi / Thanks to Le Morg for the avatar!
Hanatori is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-26-2011, 11:01 PM   #44
phoopes
Double Dragon
 
phoopes's Avatar
 
Join Date: Nov 2011
Posts: 3,776
It's no surprise that Shuckle was slow on getting this done. (Pun intended)

Also, thanks again to Jeri and Hana. Love the story and the art!
__________________
phoopes is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-27-2011, 06:17 PM   #45
The Morg
Trying to send Christmas cards
 
The Morg's Avatar
 
Join Date: Oct 2007
Location: *scribble*
Posts: 1,460
This thread fills me with awe and admiration!

AWESOME skills all around!
__________________

*munch munch* | FB Profile
The Morg is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-28-2011, 12:38 PM   #46
Char
Banned
 
Char's Avatar
 
Join Date: Apr 2011
Location: Patches made this cool Charmander pumpkin
Posts: 1,203
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hanatori View Post
A curiously humble wrapping paper, just little and blue.

Hanako: Apparently Hana can't write when her brother's watching.
Hana: Shut up.


But yeah, downright minimalist wrapping paper compared to some of the displays we've seen today. Coming from YUKI.N, fulfilling a writing request for deoxys. Apparently this is rated R for ridiculousness and bad words and various whatnots.



Spoiler: show
“I’m telling you, Don, I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”

“Relax, Mary, it’s only a trial period. Few days, tops.”

“How can you sleep knowing that… That thing is under our roof?”

“It’s not under the roof. It’s sleeping in a kennel outside, remember?”

“I still don’t like it. I saw the children try to feed it on their way to school. I don’t want them going anywhere near the beast.”

“I’ll have a word with them. But the district assured me it’s been trained to obey humans, so it shouldn’t cause any harm. Just think of it as a regular dog.”

“What kind of a dog has horns?!”

“…”

“Don, I saw it breathe fire.”

“At the kids?”

“At another dog, but that’s beside the point!”

Officer Don watched as his wife fretted back and forth across the floor of their small bedroom, every so often casting a wary glance out the window at the small house in the garden. All she could see when she squinted into the pitch black was a barbed tail poking through the wire holes, sleek and serpentine. She shuddered and sat on the bed, frostily refusing her husband’s warm embrace.

“It’s a hellhound. That’s what it is. The apocalypse is here, and it’s come to tell us we’re all doomed.”

“Now, I wouldn’t go that far…”

“Have you seen the news lately?”

She snapped, and reached for the remote. The ghastly information tube clicked to life,

“…reports of what locals claim appears to be a dragon sighted around the county area. Residents are advised to stay indoors…”

“You hear that? A dragon!”

“Hush, keep your voice down. You’ll wake the baby.”

Mary’s eyes darted to the baby monitor on the nightstand, staring at the unfamiliar technology as in a trance. Gingerly she picked the receiver up and cradled it soft in her hand in place of the newborn, listening to the deep, quiet breathing on the other end. Her husband placed a secure hand on her shoulder, which felt cold even through her nightgown. The trembling ceased, but her face looked so pale and frail that Don was the one afraid he might be in danger of losing his love. That she would turn into a ghost at any moment and his hand would pass right through her onto the sheets, and she’d float somewhere far away he couldn’t reach. Only when he sensed her own fingertips and cheek gently graze his knuckles did he feel safe.

“I’m scared, Don. What is the world coming to?”

“I don’t know, dear. But we’ll get through it. Humans are remarkably adaptable.”

A weak laugh. “You know, I heard a rumor from that crazy hacker teen down the street that NASA’s been working on a device that can capture these ‘monsters’ and shrink them down to fit in your pocket. Can you imagine that?”

Don chuckled and carefully replaced the baby monitor in its stand, then silenced the reporter as she was about to launch into a story about swarms of sentient shrooms causing traffic jams along the I-11. “Next thing you know we’ll have a bunch of hooligans running around with ‘pocket monsters’ and trying to beat each other up like you see in those dumb cartoons.”

“Dear lord, I hope not. It’s bad enough those “R” group terrorists are practically running the country. What the hell is the government doing?”

Don shook his head. “I don’t know. But for now the police are doing what they can on a local level to keep the situation in check. That’s why we had to trade in (what was left of) the K9 unit for these creatures. Those bastards would murder us otherwise. Some of those fiends can even block bullets.”

Mary nodded feebly. “I understand. I just… Don’t trust any of them. For a dog to breathe fire, or a rat to cause electrocution… It’s not natural.” She turned a pleading gaze to her husband. “I knew when I married a cop it’d be dangerous, but I never imagined anything like this to happen. Won’t you consider early retirement? You’ve served the force for 15 years, that’s plenty long enough.”

“You know this is something I can’t give up on. Besides, in this economy, we should be considered lucky to even have jobs. If I want to keep mine, I have to upgrade to the new system. Those are the rules. Which means getting familiar with my… ‘Partner’. If we can’t work together, it would jeopardize the entire team’s safety out in the field.”

After years of marriage, Mary knew when it was useless to try and get the man to budge once he’d made up his mind. She sighed and tried her next best tactic, which was to lie down and sulk while drawing the covers over her. Don was hurt, but knew he could always apologize and make up to her in the morning.

He didn’t dare tell her that the bureau was issuing prototypes of the new “battle capsules” to all participating officers next week. Not that he was supposed to. He also couldn’t let slip any confidential information about the terrorists, whose name so far had only been released to the public under their red letter insignia. The government was keeping their involvement with the defense program well under wraps, in order to avoid tracing back connections to the original firm that started this whole mess in the first place.

Most were unaware, but everything began in a small, publicly-funded research lab. Like something ripped straight out of a science-fiction novel, a team discovered how to mutate animal genes to give them what could only be described as superpowers. The experiments were soon replicated all over the country and even leaked abroad. Then, thanks to an organized attack by animal rights activists – possibly with the help of internal conspirists – thousands of specimens escaped. Since then, the State Institute of Life Project Health evolved into a monopoly corporation that manufactured specific equipment meant to aid public security. SILPH quickly overtook Apple as the nation’s largest tech company, dominating even the global industry. They were the ones behind the major development of the Pocket Ball™, not NASA.

Amidst all the chaos, an organized crime syndicate rose to power by taming some of the monsters and using them to carry out their own dirty schemes. This organization, self-designated as Team Rocket, had its influence in nearly every political sector. Evidence from backhanded business transactions seemed to suggest they might even have full, if not indirect control over SILPH’s operations.

Don paused and assuaged his eyes; he’d found himself staying up past 1AM, poring over all the various intel he’d gathered in an attempt to relieve his own restlessness. Months’ worth of private investigation was contained in this folder, which he finally felt confident to hand to the Chief first thing in the morning. As he closed the file, he glanced at Mary, who was already fast asleep. The old girl did have a point: The world was going to hell, and somebody needed to do something.

In fact, Team Rocket’s exploits were hardly the only matter of concern. Normal animal species were becoming endangered by the hundreds, as the fastforwarded process of natural selection favored mutants that could spit fire or crush steel. As much as the people called for decisive action, the broad community was often divided in opinion on what should be done. Ironically, animal support groups and extreme eco-terrorists took both sides of the issue, and as such the police were left trying to deal with moral disputes in addition to every isolated incident. Their lives were so occupied that they could hardly focus on the bigger picture. Problems ranged from calls by worried pet owners to report a housecat chased up a tree by a giant insect, to rally protests to stop the hunting and enslaving of creatures in the name of public safety.

What bothered Don the most, however, was the reported rising trend in the youth demographic that adolescents found these creatures “cool” and fascinating. Perhaps violent video games and television were to blame for fantasy escapism, but increasingly they’d get frantic calls from parents whose kids ran off to try and challenge the wild beasts in order to “catch” them. Many complained the police were setting a bad example by patrolling with their new team members, a protocol now required as both a safety precaution and a measure of fostering familiarity.

Though he didn’t think much of it at the time, Don was reminded of an event earlier in the day when he was attempting to go through a normal guard dog routine with it in the garden, and the creepy teenager Mary mentioned came over to watch from outside the fence.

“…That’s not how you train ‘em.”

He announced dully after a while.

Don turned to stare sternly at his critic, who responded with a goofy grin that made the man suspect the boy was on drugs.

“You gotta give it the name of an attack. Like BITE or HOWL.”

At that moment, a small squirrel darted across the lawn, stopping short a foot away from the beast’s razor claws. Though the canine didn’t budge an inch, Don sensed its slitted eye swivel towards him.

“It’s waiting for a command.” The teen leaned eagerly forward against the fence. Gradually, the corners of his mouth curled from a slight smirk into a sneer. “Why don’t you try telling it to use FLAMETHROWER?”

The beast appeared to tense at the word, a low growl escaping its throat. “Leave it,” Don snapped, and the rumbling immediately ceased, which the squirrel took as its cue to scamper safely away. Then, to the disappointed onlooker: “Kid, I think you’d better go home. Leave this to the professionals.”

“The only way to get stronger is by defeating your opponents, you know,” the boy muttered, seemingly to himself. “How else are you going to become the very best? The best there ever was?” Half-humming the last phrase, he sauntered off down the sidewalk.

The kid was obviously high, Don thought. The man had watched him leave with half a mind to chase after and bust him, but in the end he decided to let it go. He couldn’t leave the creature unattended in a residential area without a chain, and taking it out on the street at this stage would invite more unwanted attention. He let the boy off the hook for today, but the next time Don saw him he’d have some questions for him.

It wasn’t just kids who were proving to be strangely spellbound by these creatures’ special abilities. Many of the new recruits down at the station were ecstatic to finally receive their own partners; some were even looking forward to it after having first seen the handlers’ demonstration and upon hearing successful implementation stories from other districts. Don would often pass by the proverbial water cooler to hear officers boasting to each other about how tough his own monster was, and there were even some whispers of betting over backlot dogfights. Though he had no proof of illegal practice yet, once the Chief was made aware of the depths of the Rockets’ corruption within the system, Don would urge him to also launch an internal investigation.

As for himself… Don wasn’t sure how he felt about all the changes. He believed in his own creed that adaptability was necessary for survival, so he had accepted the new laws and duties without complaint, simply carrying out his daily business as usual. But he was avoiding the real question. As he gazed towards the window, he tried to imagine what sort of appeal such a bizarre creature would hold for some. When he brought it home, even his own son excitedly exclaimed that he wanted to become a cop when he grew up so he could have one of his own. Though Don had no interest in abusing power or status, he had to admit it gave him a bit of a thrill when he paraded the oddity around the block to the admiration and awe of passerby.

On the flip side, he wasn’t exactly as afraid of it as Mary and most other sensible persons were. A bit nervous, perhaps, but the kid and the handlers were right about one thing: It would never act unless told to. After a couple days of close training together, he’d come to the conclusion it was about as tame and trustworthy as a normal dog, perhaps even more so. Who knows, despite its terrifying appearance, it might even be family-friendly if Mary would give the thing a chance.

It was nearly 3AM when he heard it. As he was drifting off to sleep, thinking he might try to slowly condition it and his wife to each other’s presence, a loud bark jolted him awake. Followed by another. This time was higher, almost frantic. There was a snarling, then a banging, a crash, a yelp, whine, and then silence. Jumping out of bed, Don hastened to the window and opened it. For some reason, the garden was lit brightly enough for him to see the kennel door was ajar, or more accurately, ripped apart. Bent and warped as if something had clawed and rammed into it repeatedly, it dangled haphazardly on its hinge. The beast was nowhere to be seen.

“Damnit!” Don cursed, and was about to run downstairs to phone in a report that one of the monsters went mad and was on the loose in the suburbs when he smelled something that stopped him cold…

Smoke. He stuck his head out the window, and saw to his alarm that the light wasn’t coming from the streetlamps, but from the orange glow of flames that were licking at the lower levels of his house. He reeled back, hitting his head against the frame with such force that he nearly blacked out. Focusing all his remaining consciousness into his lungs and feet, he managed to scream out as he stumbled to the bed where his wife was still sleeping.

“Mary! Wake up! There’s a fire!”

Mary woke with a start to see her husband clutching his head, which appeared to be bleeding. “Don? What’s going on? What happened to you? Are you all right?” Before she even received an answer, she found herself being helped out of bed and pushed towards the door. “Don, what-”

“Get Zack and Emy, and take them outside. Hurry. The house is on fire.”

The look of concern became replaced with one of shock and fear. “What about Isabelle?”

“I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry. Just go!”

She nodded and ran to the kids’ bedroom closer to the stairs, and Don staggered down the hallway in the opposite direction. He coughed, feeling the heat and smog rising from the first floor. As he prayed for the other three to make it out safely, he reached out for the nursery door handle. Suddenly, he heard a loud crash coming from within the room, and he flung the door open to a sight that nearly made his heart stop: There the creature stood atop a carpet of broken glass, presumably from the shattered window behind it, through which branches of the large oak in the garden could be seen waving. What commanded all of Don’s concentration though, was the image of his darling daughter wrapped in a blanket, hanging from the slavering jaws of the beast.

“Drop her. This instant.”

In a blind rage, he stumbled forward, and pierced his feet on the numerous shards. Crying out in pain, he would’ve fallen face-first into a sea of tiny spears had the beast not sprang forward to steady him. He felt the creature’s warm snout gently but firmly nudge him towards the door, and thankful acknowledgement dawned on him. Securing its own hold of the precious bundle, it allowed the wounded man to tightly grip its fur for support as it led him to the stairs. The heat and haze barely seemed to affect its purpose as it carefully navigated the living room, finally emerging through the open front door onto the safety of the lawn.

Once they were a fair distance away from the blaze, the creature deposited its tiny passenger on the cool grass with utmost care, unharmed and still fast asleep. Don reached down and affectionately rubbed the Houndoom’s head.

“Thank you.”

He then turned to look for his wife and other children, feeling safe in knowing they must have gotten out since the door was left open. He was so absorbed in scanning the street for signs of them, that he didn’t register the sound of snarling in the direction of the house until it barked.

“What is it, girl?” He turned, and what he saw made his blood truly run cold.

Towering over him was a massive form that could only be accurately described as belonging to a dragon. From the tips of its horns, to its vellum wings, down a humongous body covered in golden scales, culminating in a long lizard tail – as if these didn’t scream fantastical, its end was torched in flame, burning fiercely yet mysteriously seeming to support the bearer’s life rather than injure it.

Clutched in its giant claws was a familiar figure – Mary’s.

“Tch. How boring. I was hoping at least one of you would burn.”

Like a trance, Don rotated to face the speaker. It was the boy from earlier, standing on the other side of the fence this time. He was wearing a black shirt with a character printed on the front, fully illuminated by the roaring inferno: A shining, blood-red R.

His eyes lit up when he approached the frozen man. “Is that what I think it is? I’m amazed you thought to bring it to me while your house was burning down, but I guess it’s convenient. Hand it over.”

It took Don a moment to realize the teen was pointing at something he was holding. He uncrumpled the file detailing Team Rocket’s underground activities for the past year, and held it out, hands shaking.

“You can have it. Just please, let my wife and kids go.”

The teen blinked. “Kids? Oh, you mean those brats. They’re already dead. Those whiny little things are hardly more than a snack for Brutus here. Want to see what he did to them?”

“No! Don’t!”

Hearing voices, Mary’s eyes flickered open for an instant. The frightened face of her husband swam hazily in and out of her vision. “Don…”

“CRUNCH.”

Don sank to his knees. His Houndoom had leapt forward to try and save her, but it was too late. A wide sweep of the dragon’s tail knocked her back, just as the woman’s blood splattered all over the lawn, staining even the pure white covers of the sleeping infant.

The boy strolled forth and reached out for the folder, which had also dropped to the earth. Don snapped back in control for a moment and made a grab for the file, struggling to his feet. There was nothing more the boy could do to him, he was simply an empty shell that operated on instinct alone. Likewise he knew there was nothing he could do, but he had to know.

“Why are you doing this?”

The boy grinned like it was his birthday, as if he had been waiting for that question.

“Don’t you know Team Rocket’s motto? ‘To protect the world from devastation! To unite all peoples within our nation!’ …But honestly, I could care less about that shit. I just wanted to say it once.”

“Then why?”

To his horror, the boy shrugged. “Because it’s friggin’ awesome. Plus I can get back at bullies and stuff this way.” He laughed. “Fuck humans. Fuck society. Gotta kill ‘em all.”

“…You’re insane.”

“Whatever. Now give me the file.”

“No. Houndoom, use BITE!”

The dog’s fangs sank into the boy’s hand as he reached again for the folder. He cursed and ordered ‘Brutus’ to attack with an AIR SLASH. A sharp gale cut across the Houndoom’s belly, forcing her to relinquish her hold. Don felt some of the remaining impact, and winced as it stung like a razor, knocking the wind out of him.

“See? This is why humans are weak, and deserve to die. Like this, watch. Blade, use SLASH!”

Don suddenly felt something sharp plunge into his backside. He looked down and realized what appeared to be a scythe sticking out from his chest. There was a horrible squelching sound as it retreated back into his cavity and out the other side, and he fell to the ground, choking and sputtering some warm, red liquid. His vision blurred. He could barely make out something white lying on the ground next to him, and a dark figure crouched above.

“Save… Isabelle…”

He whispered with the last of his breath. The darkness obeyed, picking up the white bundle and racing off with it into the distance. He could hear the boy’s gloating voice, floating close yet far away at the same time.

“Let it go. It’s our alibi. People will think it started the fire, and attacked the residents as they came out of the house. Go and check if there are any witnesses. If you find any, you know what to do. They’ll just blame it all on a rogue monster that escaped its Master, and focus on capturing it instead.”

As his sight slowly darkened, he saw another shadow hunch over him. Despite his failing senses, there was no mistaking it was human this time. He vaguely registered an object being wrenched out of his clamped hand.

The final sentence Officer Don heard before his death was then posed to him in the form of a riddle:

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. What do you get when you add another stroke to the letter P?”

Team Rocket blast off at the speed of light…

Surrender now or prepare to fight.


Spoiler: show
*insert "Ashton Kutcher wants to be the very best" joke here*
Quote:
Originally Posted by Hanatori View Post
Hanako: Hana, the box is waggling...

Indeed it is! Here we have another art request, this one from Kindrindra, fulfilled by our very own Tyranidos, who reportedly spent many, many hours drawing a Raichu for this one.



Spoiler: show
My favorites.
Char is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 12-28-2011, 03:53 PM   #47
Shuckle
Problematic Fave
 
Shuckle's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: VA
Posts: 3,199
Notepad spacing does not translate to UPN noooooooooo

Italicize the lyrics and add spacing between the paragraphs and it will look good ;_;
__________________
Shuckle is offline   Reply With Quote
Old 01-14-2012, 05:42 PM   #48
Slash
Silver LO
 
Slash's Avatar
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: Tokyo Underground Sewage Facility
Posts: 6,760
Send a message via Yahoo to Slash Send a message via Skype™ to Slash
just posting to remind those who have not finished/submitted the drawings/writings
__________________
--- ---
Quote:
Originally Posted by Sneezey12 View Post
KAIRNE I WILL RIP OFF YOUR SCROTUM AND FEED IT TO YOU THROUGH A FUCKING SWIRLY STRAW.

Slash is offline   Reply With Quote
Reply

Lower Navigation
Go Back   UPNetwork > General Forums > Fanart & Fanfiction


Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
 
Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -5. The time now is 10:36 AM.


Design By: Miner Skinz.com
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.7
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.