Not a chance. Cynthia's mine
Writing Pokémon Add On!
- Thread starter Turtwig
- Start date
Nonono
She is Fletchling's
I'll hopefully be submitting my story in about 16-20 hours (which may be over the deadline by a couple hours). I have three basic drafts done, all of which are only 400 words. One of which is from the trainer's dad's perspective, another is Cyrus (obviously), and the last is an experimental chapter from the houndoom's perspective.
By perspective, I mean the story follows them. I won't be using imagery from how the dog sees
By perspective, I mean the story follows them. I won't be using imagery from how the dog sees
Cyrus looked up from the picture, immediately blinking the tears away. He wasn’t a man for weeping and vulnerability. Cyrus pushed himself up from his luxurious chair, and walked over to the window. He could see the many Pokémon trainers and citizens of Hearthome City. The splendid Super Contest Hall and Amity Square were almost directly outside his window. He looked down, towards the field just outside. A Heracross, and a seemingly unfamiliar Pokemon from another region were battling, clashing and showing off to a small crowd that had been brought from the small marketplace next to the field.
He walked out of his office. The scattered paperwork seemed to fill the entire room now, and he seemed stressed by it all. Going up against Cynthia in his campaigns had been taking the life out of him. Cynthia was the champion of Sinnoh after all, she had met many different politicians that had lost in votes to her, and knew exactly what the people wanted after her years of experience in political matters.
He kept the door open to let his Houndoom out, but his Pokémon politely looked up, yawned and lent its head back down. Cyrus walked down the hallway, and out of Town Hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed a walk. He stepped out into the stone steps, and the fresh air overwhelmed him. He had spent the last few hours in his dull office, with stale air, and the slight breeze made him smile. He immediately put his face back to the regular expression. No vulnerability, no emotion.
The citizens and trainers all seemed so happy under the watch of Cynthia. It seemed as though she had created a perfect world for them. He didn’t like it. It made it harder for him to win. He didn’t want to create false promises, but he may have to. He slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for his phone, before realising that he left it in his office. Cyrus started to rush back to Town Hall. Opening the glass doors, and he almost broke into a jog as he rushed down the hallway. He never left his phone behind, and this was a first. Swinging the door to his office open, he saw a man. The man inspected the paperwork, carefully stepping around the sleeping Houndoom.
“Mr. Zuru!” Cyrus said in fake excitement. He didn’t want this man here right now. He didn’t want to meet this man. He just wanted his money and support. Mr. Zuru looked up at him, and started to inspect the paperwork again.
“Hello, Cyrus. Pleasure to meet you.” His husky tone made Cyrus cringe slightly. It was as if someone had scratched a chalkboard. “Forgive my raspy voice, I’ve developed a bit of an addiction to something, let’s just say, unhealthy.”
Cyrus didn’t ask, he was just pleased to have Mr. Zuru here. “Now, Mr. Zuru, as you know, I am campaigning for presidency over Sinnoh. My campaign would flourish with your support, and in return, I could support your son’s battling career.”
“Bah, his training career? Is that the best you have to offer? My support is worth a lot more than that, Cyrus. You know this.” Zuru spat back at him.
He walked out of his office. The scattered paperwork seemed to fill the entire room now, and he seemed stressed by it all. Going up against Cynthia in his campaigns had been taking the life out of him. Cynthia was the champion of Sinnoh after all, she had met many different politicians that had lost in votes to her, and knew exactly what the people wanted after her years of experience in political matters.
He kept the door open to let his Houndoom out, but his Pokémon politely looked up, yawned and lent its head back down. Cyrus walked down the hallway, and out of Town Hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed a walk. He stepped out into the stone steps, and the fresh air overwhelmed him. He had spent the last few hours in his dull office, with stale air, and the slight breeze made him smile. He immediately put his face back to the regular expression. No vulnerability, no emotion.
The citizens and trainers all seemed so happy under the watch of Cynthia. It seemed as though she had created a perfect world for them. He didn’t like it. It made it harder for him to win. He didn’t want to create false promises, but he may have to. He slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for his phone, before realising that he left it in his office. Cyrus started to rush back to Town Hall. Opening the glass doors, and he almost broke into a jog as he rushed down the hallway. He never left his phone behind, and this was a first. Swinging the door to his office open, he saw a man. The man inspected the paperwork, carefully stepping around the sleeping Houndoom.
“Mr. Zuru!” Cyrus said in fake excitement. He didn’t want this man here right now. He didn’t want to meet this man. He just wanted his money and support. Mr. Zuru looked up at him, and started to inspect the paperwork again.
“Hello, Cyrus. Pleasure to meet you.” His husky tone made Cyrus cringe slightly. It was as if someone had scratched a chalkboard. “Forgive my raspy voice, I’ve developed a bit of an addiction to something, let’s just say, unhealthy.”
Cyrus didn’t ask, he was just pleased to have Mr. Zuru here. “Now, Mr. Zuru, as you know, I am campaigning for presidency over Sinnoh. My campaign would flourish with your support, and in return, I could support your son’s battling career.”
“Bah, his training career? Is that the best you have to offer? My support is worth a lot more than that, Cyrus. You know this.” Zuru spat back at him.
Done. 546 words. Little bit under.
I suck with dialogue. And probably forgot many other things...
Cyrus looked up from the picture, immediately blinking the tears away. He wasn’t a man for weeping and vulnerability. Cyrus pushed himself up from his luxurious chair, and walked over to the window. He could see the many Pokémon trainers and citizens of Hearthome City. The splendid Super Contest Hall and Amity Square were almost directly outside his window. He looked down, towards the field just outside. A Heracross, and a seemingly unfamiliar Pokemon from another region were battling, clashing and showing off to a small crowd that had been brought from the small marketplace next to the field.
He walked out of his office. The scattered paperwork seemed to fill the entire room now, and he seemed stressed by it all. Going up against Cynthia in his campaigns had been taking the life out of him. Cynthia was the champion of Sinnoh after all, she had met many different politicians that had lost in votes to her, and knew exactly what the people wanted after her years of experience in political matters.
He kept the door open to let his Houndoom out, but his Pokémon politely looked up, yawned and lent its head back down. Cyrus walked down the hallway, and out of Town Hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed a walk. He stepped out into the stone steps, and the fresh air overwhelmed him. He had spent the last few hours in his dull office, with stale air, and the slight breeze made him smile. He immediately put his face back to the regular expression. No vulnerability, no emotion.
The citizens and trainers all seemed so happy under the watch of Cynthia. It seemed as though she had created a perfect world for them. He didn’t like it. It made it harder for him to win. He didn’t want to create false promises, but he may have to. He slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for his phone, before realising that he left it in his office. Cyrus started to rush back to Town Hall. Opening the glass doors, and he almost broke into a jog as he rushed down the hallway. He never left his phone behind, and this was a first. Swinging the door to his office open, he saw a man. The man inspected the paperwork, carefully stepping around the sleeping Houndoom.
“Mr. Zuru!” Cyrus said in fake excitement. He didn’t want this man here right now. He didn’t want to meet this man. He just wanted his money and support. Mr. Zuru looked up at him, and started to inspect the paperwork again.
“Hello, Cyrus. Pleasure to meet you.” His husky tone made Cyrus cringe slightly. It was as if someone had scratched a chalkboard. “Forgive my raspy voice, I’ve developed a bit of an addiction to something, let’s just say, unhealthy.”
Cyrus didn’t ask, he was just pleased to have Mr. Zuru here. “Now, Mr. Zuru, as you know, I am campaigning for presidency over Sinnoh. My campaign would flourish with your support, and in return, I could support your son’s battling career.”
“Bah, his training career? Is that the best you have to offer? My support is worth a lot more than that, Cyrus. You know this.” Zuru spat back at him.
He walked out of his office. The scattered paperwork seemed to fill the entire room now, and he seemed stressed by it all. Going up against Cynthia in his campaigns had been taking the life out of him. Cynthia was the champion of Sinnoh after all, she had met many different politicians that had lost in votes to her, and knew exactly what the people wanted after her years of experience in political matters.
He kept the door open to let his Houndoom out, but his Pokémon politely looked up, yawned and lent its head back down. Cyrus walked down the hallway, and out of Town Hall. He didn’t know where he was going, he just needed a walk. He stepped out into the stone steps, and the fresh air overwhelmed him. He had spent the last few hours in his dull office, with stale air, and the slight breeze made him smile. He immediately put his face back to the regular expression. No vulnerability, no emotion.
The citizens and trainers all seemed so happy under the watch of Cynthia. It seemed as though she had created a perfect world for them. He didn’t like it. It made it harder for him to win. He didn’t want to create false promises, but he may have to. He slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for his phone, before realising that he left it in his office. Cyrus started to rush back to Town Hall. Opening the glass doors, and he almost broke into a jog as he rushed down the hallway. He never left his phone behind, and this was a first. Swinging the door to his office open, he saw a man. The man inspected the paperwork, carefully stepping around the sleeping Houndoom.
“Mr. Zuru!” Cyrus said in fake excitement. He didn’t want this man here right now. He didn’t want to meet this man. He just wanted his money and support. Mr. Zuru looked up at him, and started to inspect the paperwork again.
“Hello, Cyrus. Pleasure to meet you.” His husky tone made Cyrus cringe slightly. It was as if someone had scratched a chalkboard. “Forgive my raspy voice, I’ve developed a bit of an addiction to something, let’s just say, unhealthy.”
Cyrus didn’t ask, he was just pleased to have Mr. Zuru here. “Now, Mr. Zuru, as you know, I am campaigning for presidency over Sinnoh. My campaign would flourish with your support, and in return, I could support your son’s battling career.”
“Bah, his training career? Is that the best you have to offer? My support is worth a lot more than that, Cyrus. You know this.” Zuru spat back at him.
I suck with dialogue. And probably forgot many other things...
Yeah, I know. Sorry for not responding. Don't worry, it will be ready in time.
Here it is! It's not awesome, but I think it's acceptable.
Scorched Feathers, your turn!
Cyrus didn’t miss the man’s tone. It was quite obvious that what his employees had told him was true. The man wasn’t easy to deal with, quite the opposite, in fact. He was hard at negotiations, and confident of himself. However, he was Cyrus. He had faced worst. And if he wanted to make a perfect world, he had to overcome such obstacles.
-Is that so, Mr. Zuru? Correct me if I’m wrong, but your son is an up-and-coming trainer. He has shown promise, and he seems to really like Pokemon battles. I believe that a promotion by someone known to the community is exactly what his career needs. Not to mention that he could learn a lot of things from a strong trainer. You, Mr. Zuru, are able to open the doors for him. But you are no trainer. You can’t keep these doors open for him. Even with your money, you can’t buy him the knowledge he needs to ascend. My support will be invaluable for him.
-Oh, I don’t doubt that, Mr. Cyrus. I’m simply saying that it’s not going to be enough. You ask me to help you win the election campaign, something that will give you power all over Sinnoh and influence in the summits of the regions. Just helping with my son’s career will not do. You have to do something else for me as well. Promote me and my businesses. Allow me freedom of movements. I don’t think I’m asking that much for the services I am providing.
Cyrus tried to hide his annoyance behind his expressionless façade. He could always promise something more to the man. After all, he needed that support. He couldn’t risk losing to Cynthia. He had to take every precaution.
-Alright, Mr. Zuru. There will be something for you as well. Perhaps reduced taxes, more lenient product checks… There are many things I could do for you, as long as you help me achieve my goals.
-And that I will do, Mr. Cyrus, the man said, smiling arrogantly. With my support, you can say that the position is all yours.
-Thank you, Mr. Zuru.
-A pleasure, Mr. Cyrus.
The man left his office. Everything on him exuded arrogance and overconfidence as he walked outside. Cyrus tried hard to keep his calm as Zuru disappeared.
He hated the fact that he had to cooperate with people like him. It was his kin that made the world worse. If it wasn’t for his money…
His eyes fell on the picture on his desk. It was for that incident that he was struggling now, he reminded himself. He fought for a world where what happened to his family would be impossible. A perfect world, of perfect people. Sacrifices had to be made. It didn’t matter. In the end, all would be made the way they should be.
He picked up his cell. Fortunately, no calls were made. He threw it in his pocket and once again left his office to resume his walk.
As he treaded down the street, the image of Cynthia came in his mind. That woman… Pokemon League Champion, certified Sinnoh history expert, beautiful and popular. An opponent to look out for. She was a role model for many people, a person that many would choose to follow. Beating her would be hard, even with Zuru’s money. He couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for her. She was just too good; but he would prove that he was better.
-Is that so, Mr. Zuru? Correct me if I’m wrong, but your son is an up-and-coming trainer. He has shown promise, and he seems to really like Pokemon battles. I believe that a promotion by someone known to the community is exactly what his career needs. Not to mention that he could learn a lot of things from a strong trainer. You, Mr. Zuru, are able to open the doors for him. But you are no trainer. You can’t keep these doors open for him. Even with your money, you can’t buy him the knowledge he needs to ascend. My support will be invaluable for him.
-Oh, I don’t doubt that, Mr. Cyrus. I’m simply saying that it’s not going to be enough. You ask me to help you win the election campaign, something that will give you power all over Sinnoh and influence in the summits of the regions. Just helping with my son’s career will not do. You have to do something else for me as well. Promote me and my businesses. Allow me freedom of movements. I don’t think I’m asking that much for the services I am providing.
Cyrus tried to hide his annoyance behind his expressionless façade. He could always promise something more to the man. After all, he needed that support. He couldn’t risk losing to Cynthia. He had to take every precaution.
-Alright, Mr. Zuru. There will be something for you as well. Perhaps reduced taxes, more lenient product checks… There are many things I could do for you, as long as you help me achieve my goals.
-And that I will do, Mr. Cyrus, the man said, smiling arrogantly. With my support, you can say that the position is all yours.
-Thank you, Mr. Zuru.
-A pleasure, Mr. Cyrus.
The man left his office. Everything on him exuded arrogance and overconfidence as he walked outside. Cyrus tried hard to keep his calm as Zuru disappeared.
He hated the fact that he had to cooperate with people like him. It was his kin that made the world worse. If it wasn’t for his money…
His eyes fell on the picture on his desk. It was for that incident that he was struggling now, he reminded himself. He fought for a world where what happened to his family would be impossible. A perfect world, of perfect people. Sacrifices had to be made. It didn’t matter. In the end, all would be made the way they should be.
He picked up his cell. Fortunately, no calls were made. He threw it in his pocket and once again left his office to resume his walk.
As he treaded down the street, the image of Cynthia came in his mind. That woman… Pokemon League Champion, certified Sinnoh history expert, beautiful and popular. An opponent to look out for. She was a role model for many people, a person that many would choose to follow. Beating her would be hard, even with Zuru’s money. He couldn’t help but feel a grudging admiration for her. She was just too good; but he would prove that he was better.
Scorched Feathers, your turn!
Great chapters so far, everyone! Keep in mind that he we have a wording goal, so please try to remain at or above the targeted 600 words. The character development is amazing! There are only seven more chapters, so keep that in mind if you're planning on making something big happen soon.
I take it upon myself to add the biggest plot twist!
You know, because I can.
You know, because I can.
Here is SF's. He could not complete it due to homework, so I finished it a little over the word count since we're under. Well...here we go! After the asterisks, I added my bit.
“Drasna?” Cynthia exclaimed, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Kalos?” Cynthia had just returned home from her campaign in Eterna. It wasn’t too far away from Celestic Town, but it was still not the best travel, as Mount Coronet ran its way down between the two places.
Drasna was a friend of Cynthia, and they had known each other since Cynthia had been a child.
“I came to visit, dear,” Drasna replied, “I heard about your campaign. I came to support you, as well.”
Cynthia felt that she could confide in Drasna, and know that she would keep her secrets. After all, they were both members of the Pokémon League.
“Cynthia…” Drasna began, “I know with all my heart you can do this. That Cyrus must be up to no good, as always. You just have to rally the masses in your favour! If you can, you will, knowing you. Remember, the best way to stop him is to remind them of his deeds.”
Cynthia knew that she didn’t need the advice, but it was still comforting to know that a friend had her back. Cyrus had campaigned in Eterna a few days before, but she hoped that she had gathered the support of the masses.
“Thanks Drasna, I needed that. Cyrus is making it difficult for me, and it’s easy to be stressed by a major party springing up like this, and their leader is him. From what I’ve seen, he’s certainly up to no good.” Cynthia sighed. She was always trying to appear strong, but Cyrus had been wearing at her since he had popped up. He came close to destroying the world, but that person had stopped him.
That person, the very one that went on to beat her. They had gone on adventures afar, and would be of no help now. “Where are you staying, Drasna? How long will you be staying, even?“ She may as well offer hospitality to an old friend.
“I’ll stay as long as possible!” Drasna smiled, “I’ll probably stay at the Centre, or out of town, why?” Drasna had set off on the plane as soon as word got to her of the campaign. If Cynthia thought she could do this alone, she couldn’t. She was a proud lady, but surely even she would eventually topple in a campaign like this.
“Come and stay at my house; you can use the guest room,” Cynthia told her. Drasna thanked her, and they set off for Cynthia’s Celestic Residence.
"Hello, Mr. Proton. Yes, yes, I understand that Team Rocket has disbanded since Johto. I just wanted to...chat. You know how it is, of course, being unemployed," the gravelly voice whispered into the phone.
Another voice could be heard mumbling through the phone, however the dialogue could not be heard from outside this man's ear. The noise sounded panicky and uncertain, though the man smirked at the fact that this man is so...so desperate.
"What do I want? Ha, well, I actually want to give you what you want: a job. You lost your family, your fortune, and your house...so why not get a new job? You can just owe me a favor. Hm? Yes, yes. I do want to redeem it in a minute, though. First of all, I want you to know that I have already arranged for your flight to Sinnoh--first class, of course," the man continued, obviously aware that he is in control of the situation.
The tone in the voice could be heard increasing in pitch, which obviously meant something along the lines of: "A first-class flight to Sinnoh? Free of charge?"
The man, obviously annoyed at the little fool, pressed on once more. "Yes, a flight to Sinnoh. No more dumpster diving. Anyway, are you ready for your first assignment?"
The muffled voice sounded like it was saying "yes," as though it were very excited to move on in the ranks.
"Excellent. The night after the election, during his inaugural address, I want you to murder the future Sinnoh Representative himself--yes, Proton...Cyrus," Mr. Zuru said as he zipped through an alleyway of Hearthome City.
"How? The good old fashioned way: slit his throat and then leave the mark of the local gangsters. No one will expect an ex-con from Johto. Thank you, Proton, and good luck with your assignment. Your failure will result in your own death as well. Make this count," Mr. Zuru hopped into a cab and told the driver to take him to the Contest Hall for a wonderful show. His phone suddenly buzzed as he talks with Proton.
"Hold on, friend. I have to take another call," he explained. "...Oh, speak of the devil! Hello, Cyrus, how is the campaign?"
Chapter 3
“Drasna?” Cynthia exclaimed, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Kalos?” Cynthia had just returned home from her campaign in Eterna. It wasn’t too far away from Celestic Town, but it was still not the best travel, as Mount Coronet ran its way down between the two places.
Drasna was a friend of Cynthia, and they had known each other since Cynthia had been a child.
“I came to visit, dear,” Drasna replied, “I heard about your campaign. I came to support you, as well.”
Cynthia felt that she could confide in Drasna, and know that she would keep her secrets. After all, they were both members of the Pokémon League.
“Cynthia…” Drasna began, “I know with all my heart you can do this. That Cyrus must be up to no good, as always. You just have to rally the masses in your favour! If you can, you will, knowing you. Remember, the best way to stop him is to remind them of his deeds.”
Cynthia knew that she didn’t need the advice, but it was still comforting to know that a friend had her back. Cyrus had campaigned in Eterna a few days before, but she hoped that she had gathered the support of the masses.
“Thanks Drasna, I needed that. Cyrus is making it difficult for me, and it’s easy to be stressed by a major party springing up like this, and their leader is him. From what I’ve seen, he’s certainly up to no good.” Cynthia sighed. She was always trying to appear strong, but Cyrus had been wearing at her since he had popped up. He came close to destroying the world, but that person had stopped him.
That person, the very one that went on to beat her. They had gone on adventures afar, and would be of no help now. “Where are you staying, Drasna? How long will you be staying, even?“ She may as well offer hospitality to an old friend.
“I’ll stay as long as possible!” Drasna smiled, “I’ll probably stay at the Centre, or out of town, why?” Drasna had set off on the plane as soon as word got to her of the campaign. If Cynthia thought she could do this alone, she couldn’t. She was a proud lady, but surely even she would eventually topple in a campaign like this.
“Come and stay at my house; you can use the guest room,” Cynthia told her. Drasna thanked her, and they set off for Cynthia’s Celestic Residence.
* * *
"Hello, Mr. Proton. Yes, yes, I understand that Team Rocket has disbanded since Johto. I just wanted to...chat. You know how it is, of course, being unemployed," the gravelly voice whispered into the phone.
Another voice could be heard mumbling through the phone, however the dialogue could not be heard from outside this man's ear. The noise sounded panicky and uncertain, though the man smirked at the fact that this man is so...so desperate.
"What do I want? Ha, well, I actually want to give you what you want: a job. You lost your family, your fortune, and your house...so why not get a new job? You can just owe me a favor. Hm? Yes, yes. I do want to redeem it in a minute, though. First of all, I want you to know that I have already arranged for your flight to Sinnoh--first class, of course," the man continued, obviously aware that he is in control of the situation.
The tone in the voice could be heard increasing in pitch, which obviously meant something along the lines of: "A first-class flight to Sinnoh? Free of charge?"
The man, obviously annoyed at the little fool, pressed on once more. "Yes, a flight to Sinnoh. No more dumpster diving. Anyway, are you ready for your first assignment?"
The muffled voice sounded like it was saying "yes," as though it were very excited to move on in the ranks.
"Excellent. The night after the election, during his inaugural address, I want you to murder the future Sinnoh Representative himself--yes, Proton...Cyrus," Mr. Zuru said as he zipped through an alleyway of Hearthome City.
"How? The good old fashioned way: slit his throat and then leave the mark of the local gangsters. No one will expect an ex-con from Johto. Thank you, Proton, and good luck with your assignment. Your failure will result in your own death as well. Make this count," Mr. Zuru hopped into a cab and told the driver to take him to the Contest Hall for a wonderful show. His phone suddenly buzzed as he talks with Proton.
"Hold on, friend. I have to take another call," he explained. "...Oh, speak of the devil! Hello, Cyrus, how is the campaign?"
When is my chapter due by?
I apologize if I got the times wrong, I tried looking for that stuff but didn't find anything. I just went with an idea that came to me.
I figured we'd been keeping him too close to that office for too long.
I also tried leaving enough openings for people to do some cool stuff with.
Hope it's alright.
"Quite fine, actually!" Cyrus spoke into the phone, sounding cheerful. "But I called to establish a time to meet. There are some things I wish to... Discuss."
The man on the other end of the line hesitated, "What is this about now?"
"Oh, nothing serious, I assure you."
"...I'll call you back then."
"I'm afraid this cannot wait much longer."
"And I'm afraid that I will have to call you back regardless." Mr. Zuru hung up.
Back in his office, Cyrus set his phone down. His stroll yesterday was just what he needed to put his thoughts to rest. However, a distressing call that night had prevented him from sleeping properly. Now, with the sun having just risen a few hours ago, he was at ease once again. Mr. Zuru had sounded worried, and Cyrus knew exactly why.
He grabbed his coat and briefcase before heading out the door. He was on his way to the airport, where his private jet was waiting. He loosely gripped one of the Ultra Balls on his belt. He didn't know what to expect if his plan actually worked.
-----
The pilot's voice came over the speaker a few hours later. "We've arrived sir."
Cyrus grabbed his briefcase and stuffed his papers that he was working on inside. The sun had by now risen high in the sky, which Cyrus was thankful for. He wasn't a fan of the colder weather here.
The plane landed, and Cyrus stepped out. The pilot would be waiting for him when he got back, but not even Cyrus knew how long that would be. He trekked through the snow covered path and hugged his coat close. Even in the middle of the day, Snowpoint City was a cold place. He began to wonder if waiting mattered at all! Of course, in town there was the usual Pokemon Center, Mart, and Gym. Cyrus ignored those, thankful that his face was hidden behind his sunglasses. A trainer may recognize him, for better or worse, and he didn't have time for unnecessary events.
Just outside of town was Cyrus' destination. Snowpoint Temple.
"It's just as I remember it," he muttered to himself. "The sacred home of the legendary pokemon who moved the continents itself! With that sort of power I'd be-"
"Excuse me!"
Cyrus turned, startled. He had been careful to not be noticed... Who was this?
A young trainer ran up to him, "You're not allowed inside without premission from the gym leader, Candice."
Ah yes, Cyrus remembered. But he didn't have time... Not now.
He reached for an Ultra Ball, "No witnesses, Weavile."
The pokemon gave an evil laugh and jumped at the trainer. She didn't scream long.
-----
Proton set the phone down, contemplating. He didn't kill, that just wasn't his style!
He quickly dialed the number of one of his former comrades, Pretel. If he was going to sneak into such a high-ranked event, he'd need assistance.
"Hello Pretel, remember me? ...Why yes, I know we- Now, hold on, listen here." Proton had no choice but to explain the situation, he couldn't turn down this kind of customer. Who knows what would happen to him!
"I wouldn't want to be dragged into this either, but you know we can't- Alright, I'll meet you there."
-----
Cyrus dragged the body behind a tree. She wasn't dead, but by the time she woke up this will have seemed a dream to her. He recalled his pokemon and went inside the temple.
It wasn't long before he came across the giant statue that was Regigigas.
"Hello, my Plan B." Cyrus rubbed the moss growing over the pokemon as he chuckled under is breath. Three of the Ultra Balls on his belt started shaking. "If I can't win this election the right way... Well, force is always an option."
The man on the other end of the line hesitated, "What is this about now?"
"Oh, nothing serious, I assure you."
"...I'll call you back then."
"I'm afraid this cannot wait much longer."
"And I'm afraid that I will have to call you back regardless." Mr. Zuru hung up.
Back in his office, Cyrus set his phone down. His stroll yesterday was just what he needed to put his thoughts to rest. However, a distressing call that night had prevented him from sleeping properly. Now, with the sun having just risen a few hours ago, he was at ease once again. Mr. Zuru had sounded worried, and Cyrus knew exactly why.
He grabbed his coat and briefcase before heading out the door. He was on his way to the airport, where his private jet was waiting. He loosely gripped one of the Ultra Balls on his belt. He didn't know what to expect if his plan actually worked.
-----
The pilot's voice came over the speaker a few hours later. "We've arrived sir."
Cyrus grabbed his briefcase and stuffed his papers that he was working on inside. The sun had by now risen high in the sky, which Cyrus was thankful for. He wasn't a fan of the colder weather here.
The plane landed, and Cyrus stepped out. The pilot would be waiting for him when he got back, but not even Cyrus knew how long that would be. He trekked through the snow covered path and hugged his coat close. Even in the middle of the day, Snowpoint City was a cold place. He began to wonder if waiting mattered at all! Of course, in town there was the usual Pokemon Center, Mart, and Gym. Cyrus ignored those, thankful that his face was hidden behind his sunglasses. A trainer may recognize him, for better or worse, and he didn't have time for unnecessary events.
Just outside of town was Cyrus' destination. Snowpoint Temple.
"It's just as I remember it," he muttered to himself. "The sacred home of the legendary pokemon who moved the continents itself! With that sort of power I'd be-"
"Excuse me!"
Cyrus turned, startled. He had been careful to not be noticed... Who was this?
A young trainer ran up to him, "You're not allowed inside without premission from the gym leader, Candice."
Ah yes, Cyrus remembered. But he didn't have time... Not now.
He reached for an Ultra Ball, "No witnesses, Weavile."
The pokemon gave an evil laugh and jumped at the trainer. She didn't scream long.
-----
Proton set the phone down, contemplating. He didn't kill, that just wasn't his style!
He quickly dialed the number of one of his former comrades, Pretel. If he was going to sneak into such a high-ranked event, he'd need assistance.
"Hello Pretel, remember me? ...Why yes, I know we- Now, hold on, listen here." Proton had no choice but to explain the situation, he couldn't turn down this kind of customer. Who knows what would happen to him!
"I wouldn't want to be dragged into this either, but you know we can't- Alright, I'll meet you there."
-----
Cyrus dragged the body behind a tree. She wasn't dead, but by the time she woke up this will have seemed a dream to her. He recalled his pokemon and went inside the temple.
It wasn't long before he came across the giant statue that was Regigigas.
"Hello, my Plan B." Cyrus rubbed the moss growing over the pokemon as he chuckled under is breath. Three of the Ultra Balls on his belt started shaking. "If I can't win this election the right way... Well, force is always an option."
I also tried leaving enough openings for people to do some cool stuff with.
Hope it's alright.
Remember that the Word Count has shifted to 800 words minimum
Petrel hung up the phone and glanced at his bowl of stale Frosted Flakes. Well, a job would be better than eating this slop. Petrel then got up from his little brown table and went over towards the white-walled closet. He pulled out his black Rocket uniform, smiled, and then went to his little workshop--yes, the Master of Disguise has returned.
Cynthia gazed at the stars peeking out from her small Eterna City hotel room. The Sinnoh Champion decided to settle down and befriend her fellow Sinnoh people. As Cynthia had given several speeches earlier that day, she now felt as though there was something...missing in her diction; in fact, she thought it was just a cluster of words that had no effect other than the cliche nonsense.
The sunset was wonderfully relaxing since she had been at work all day. She sighed, sat down on her bed, and began rewriting speeches as though it were a favorite hobby.
"If I do defeat Cyrus, maybe I can make a difference in all this chaos. If you think about, Sinnoh really is one big region to describe them all," she whispered to herself, mesmerized. "I plan on preserving this habitat--even if I sacrifice my own career."
Cyrus moved to the one spot in Snowpoint City with WiFi: the Pokemon Center. He quickly called Mr. Zuru, but no reply. Saddened, Cyrus gave up and went to sleep in one of the provided Trainer Rooms upstairs.
As soon as he was comfy, Cyrus sent out his Houndoom to sleep on the bed he had brought on the trip. The Pokemon greeted him, turned around a couple of times, and began dozing. Cyrus smiled. The one that exhibited the most happiness was the least corrupt. His motives the past few years may have been wrong, but Team Galactic is gone. Cyrus was alone. As long as he can take this election, he will finally be able to create a better place.
Cyrus yawned, scratched his lower back, and got ready for the next day. A few minutes later and he was packed, cleaned, and able to begin more speeches. Once he passed out of the room, he saw a small clock on the night stand. The clock read "Friday, March 7," which means that the election is soon. Since the dates keep on changing, the precise date of the election is still unknown...so he must be on his toes.
Cyrus hopped onto his jet an hour later and thanked the pilot for waiting that night. He sat down, alone, and then looked outside at Snowpoint City. That little girl from earlier was there...and she was waving! However, despite her desperate efforts to meet him, he sped off and ditched her on the small, icy prison.
Proton hung up with Mr. Zuru and then wrote down the coordinates to meet him at. As he recorded the whereabouts, he texted Petrel and let him know where to meet as well. It will be important to stick together in dangerous situations--especially those with Mr. Zuru. Then, Proton ditched the room in fear that he may somehow get caught. Hopefully, he can get some cash in this, though.
Petrel continued listening to Mr. Zuru, who, upon learning that Petrel is now going to play an integral part in Cyrus's assassination, decided to give the man a little call. Petrel answered politely, then quickly got down to business.
"So you want me to do what?" he asked.
"Use your ability to get close to Cyrus--in whatever way, shape, or form," Mr. Zuru replied hoarsely.
"Yes sir. I will be sure to gain the man's trust. First, though, I must know: why are you doing this? Murdering him? What do you get out of it?"
"Since I'm basically the only person running his campaign, I'm immediately going to be assigned his subordinate. Once he's shot and killed, I get to take over and--well, you know the rest. After all, you work for a mobster back in the Kanto region," Mr. Zuru snorted.
"Just tell me what you want me to do!"
"Fine. I need you to morph into me and attend this meeting held today. I have other matters to attend to," Mr. Zuru anxiously hung up.
"Huh?"
Mr. Zuru confusedly lost his grip on the situation. Now, he's forced to talk to...the Boss. Her. He quickly got his phone, dialed the number, and waited in his limousine for the right person to come in. Soon after, though, he closed his phone shut and stashed it in his pocket.
The door opened and a skinny leg dipped in the limo. Soon after, the blondish hair swooped down and revealed itself to Mr. Zuru's eyes. He then began to say something, stopped, but then started up again.
"I'm not sure that I will be able to do this. I am a mobster, not some political assistant," he muttered through his bared-down teeth.
"You have to. If you don't, the election is gone and Sinnoh is his. I have to win this election no matter what. We both know that. The election is rumored to go down tomorrow night, but we'll just see. Stick to the plan!" the mysterious woman angrily spat, her face reddening from the anger.
"Yes ma'am," the quiet voice replied in a rather sheepish tone.
"Ma'am? I'm not old. Just call me Cynthia!"
Ugh, I had to keep shortening it. Plot twist maybe? Here's the next chapter, though, so now it's Wandering Wolf's turn again! 800 words!
Chapter 5
Petrel hung up the phone and glanced at his bowl of stale Frosted Flakes. Well, a job would be better than eating this slop. Petrel then got up from his little brown table and went over towards the white-walled closet. He pulled out his black Rocket uniform, smiled, and then went to his little workshop--yes, the Master of Disguise has returned.
* * *
Cynthia gazed at the stars peeking out from her small Eterna City hotel room. The Sinnoh Champion decided to settle down and befriend her fellow Sinnoh people. As Cynthia had given several speeches earlier that day, she now felt as though there was something...missing in her diction; in fact, she thought it was just a cluster of words that had no effect other than the cliche nonsense.
The sunset was wonderfully relaxing since she had been at work all day. She sighed, sat down on her bed, and began rewriting speeches as though it were a favorite hobby.
"If I do defeat Cyrus, maybe I can make a difference in all this chaos. If you think about, Sinnoh really is one big region to describe them all," she whispered to herself, mesmerized. "I plan on preserving this habitat--even if I sacrifice my own career."
* * *
Cyrus moved to the one spot in Snowpoint City with WiFi: the Pokemon Center. He quickly called Mr. Zuru, but no reply. Saddened, Cyrus gave up and went to sleep in one of the provided Trainer Rooms upstairs.
As soon as he was comfy, Cyrus sent out his Houndoom to sleep on the bed he had brought on the trip. The Pokemon greeted him, turned around a couple of times, and began dozing. Cyrus smiled. The one that exhibited the most happiness was the least corrupt. His motives the past few years may have been wrong, but Team Galactic is gone. Cyrus was alone. As long as he can take this election, he will finally be able to create a better place.
* The Next Morning*
Cyrus yawned, scratched his lower back, and got ready for the next day. A few minutes later and he was packed, cleaned, and able to begin more speeches. Once he passed out of the room, he saw a small clock on the night stand. The clock read "Friday, March 7," which means that the election is soon. Since the dates keep on changing, the precise date of the election is still unknown...so he must be on his toes.
Cyrus hopped onto his jet an hour later and thanked the pilot for waiting that night. He sat down, alone, and then looked outside at Snowpoint City. That little girl from earlier was there...and she was waving! However, despite her desperate efforts to meet him, he sped off and ditched her on the small, icy prison.
* * *
Proton hung up with Mr. Zuru and then wrote down the coordinates to meet him at. As he recorded the whereabouts, he texted Petrel and let him know where to meet as well. It will be important to stick together in dangerous situations--especially those with Mr. Zuru. Then, Proton ditched the room in fear that he may somehow get caught. Hopefully, he can get some cash in this, though.
* * *
Petrel continued listening to Mr. Zuru, who, upon learning that Petrel is now going to play an integral part in Cyrus's assassination, decided to give the man a little call. Petrel answered politely, then quickly got down to business.
"So you want me to do what?" he asked.
"Use your ability to get close to Cyrus--in whatever way, shape, or form," Mr. Zuru replied hoarsely.
"Yes sir. I will be sure to gain the man's trust. First, though, I must know: why are you doing this? Murdering him? What do you get out of it?"
"Since I'm basically the only person running his campaign, I'm immediately going to be assigned his subordinate. Once he's shot and killed, I get to take over and--well, you know the rest. After all, you work for a mobster back in the Kanto region," Mr. Zuru snorted.
"Just tell me what you want me to do!"
"Fine. I need you to morph into me and attend this meeting held today. I have other matters to attend to," Mr. Zuru anxiously hung up.
"Huh?"
* * *
Mr. Zuru confusedly lost his grip on the situation. Now, he's forced to talk to...the Boss. Her. He quickly got his phone, dialed the number, and waited in his limousine for the right person to come in. Soon after, though, he closed his phone shut and stashed it in his pocket.
The door opened and a skinny leg dipped in the limo. Soon after, the blondish hair swooped down and revealed itself to Mr. Zuru's eyes. He then began to say something, stopped, but then started up again.
"I'm not sure that I will be able to do this. I am a mobster, not some political assistant," he muttered through his bared-down teeth.
"You have to. If you don't, the election is gone and Sinnoh is his. I have to win this election no matter what. We both know that. The election is rumored to go down tomorrow night, but we'll just see. Stick to the plan!" the mysterious woman angrily spat, her face reddening from the anger.
"Yes ma'am," the quiet voice replied in a rather sheepish tone.
"Ma'am? I'm not old. Just call me Cynthia!"
...Oops. I missed the shift then. Sorry about that. Should I make my next chapter longer to compensate?
I think Twiggy means that from his chapter on, word count has shifted.
Oh, hey it's my turn. *starts reading Scorched's chapter*