Chapter 1 [Winnie: A Pokemon Adventure]

Winnie: A Pokemon Adventure

Chapter 1: The Journey of a Protagonist!

It’s an ordinary day in Twinleaf, and Winnie, a 12 year old boy is on his way to becoming a Pokemon Master!

“Winnie! What are you doing!”

“I’m going to Professor Appletree’s house!”

“And why may I ask, aren’t you going to school, young man?”

“Screw school! I’m the main character dammit!”

“And where’s your father anyway?”

“Mom, I don’t have a father remember? My existence is due to a virgin birth, brought about by the Force! All main characters are like that! I mean, look at Star Wars, Anakin has no father, his mom got preggers due to the will of the Force! And the Bible! Mary was a virgin when Jesus was born too!”

“Oh I suppose…”

Winnie proceeded to strut out of the house in his pajamas, being the utterly cool thing he was. Checking his watch which had magically appeared on his wrist in the scene transition, he exclaimed, “OMG, I’M LATE.”

“Professor Appletree, I’m sorry I’m late! Being the protagonist I was, I found it perfectly all right to turn up late for the pivotal moment of my life!”

“Professor Appletree isn’t here, I’m Professor Oak, and these here are Professors Flame-of-the-Forest, Rambutan, and Californian Redwood.”

“Why are you guys all named after trees anyway?”

A loud voice began to yell in a strong Japanese accent.

“It’s tradition, I don’t care how stupid it is! I’m freaking Satoshi Tajiri!”

“So, what’s your name?”

“Winnie!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, little girl. I thought you were a boy.”

“I’m not a girl! Haven’t you ever watched Winnie the Pooh?”

“Oh yeah, I watch that, because even though I’m a mature 50 year old Professor, I can communicate as equals with a 12 year old with the maturity of an unborn fetus,” said Professor Oak, gleefully waving his Winnie the Pooh merchandise.

“Well, yeah, it IS Pokemon,” said Professor Californian Redwood.

“Wait,” said Winnie, “Why are you speaking in a Japanese accent? Aren’t you Californian?”

“No, it’s just the tree I’m named after that’s Californian.”

*

“So, Winnie, since you’ve turned up really late, you don’t have much of a choice of Pokemon,” said Professor Oak, “You’ll just have to take this mischievous Magikarp of mine.”

“Oh man! I saw this on television! You pass it to me and it gives me an electric shock!”

“Magikarp is a water type, and learns only Splash, Tackle and Flail.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know.”

*

“Yay! I’ve got my very first Pokemon!”

Winnie danced around while Magikarp…

Flopped on the ground.

“Magikarp, return!”

Flop.

“Hey, why aren’t you staying in your Pokeball?”

Flop.

“Fine, be that way.”

A few moments passed in sweet silence, but again it was broken by the annoying voice of Winnie.

“Hey Magikarp, so I heard you could evolve.”

Flop.

“I’m going to be a good trainer and get a Water Stone for you to evolve! Just like Ash tried to get a Thunderstone for Pikachu to evolve!”

Flop.

“Yeah! You’re right! As a trainer the only thing that matters is our bond! The bond between trainer and Pokemon! Who cares if you’re the weakest Pokemon in the game!”

Winnie’s Dexter beeped.

You stupid fool, Magikarp evolve by leveling up. I’m Dexter, freaking use me.

“What’s a level?”

*

“Hey, it’s a Starly! Let’s just throw a Pokeball at it since it’s so difficult to reduce its HP to a lower level in order to increase its catch rate!”

He threw a Pokeball, or rather, his weak nerdy arm was incapable of such action, and it merely dropped out of his hand, opening and bathing the Starly in a burst of red light.

Which promptly broke out.

“Damn, that was so close! I almost had it there! For like, half a second!”

He walked further away from his home in Twinleaf, which he no longer needed since he was a cool independent kid.

“Wow! Check it out! It’s a Staraptor! Why am I having a level inappropriate encounter? But I don’t care anyway! In Pokemon, level and stats don’t matter! Nor does anything else!”

He threw a Pokeball, releasing the Magikarp within.

Flop. Flop flop flop.

“Magikarp! Help me catch that Staraptor kay?”

Flop.

“Yeah! I think we should annoy it too!”

Searching the ground he found a rock.

And threw it at the Staraptor.

In the face.

The Staraptor turned, annoyed.

“Since I’m a dumb immature kid, I’m going to jab my thumb up its ass!”

And Winnie did so, much to the anger of the Staraptor.

“Hey! Magikarp! That’s weird. I think it looks angry! I wonder why?”

The Staraptor flew towards them, readying itself for a Close Combat.

Suddenly, Magikarp flopped. Though considering the fact it was flopping around all the time, it wasn’t that sudden. However, it’d be infinitely less dramatic if it was not said it was sudden, and… Well basically, Magikarp used a phenomenally powerful Splash attack.

Which immediately prompted an entire flock of Staraptor to attack Magikarp.

“Oh no!”

Winnie grabbed Magikarp and ran through the forest, losing the Staraptor flock on the first turn, but he felt it was too easy, and attracted the attention of the flock again and decided to jump off a waterfall for dramatic effect.

“Lalala…”

It so happened that a girl was fishing nearby, and felt a tug on her rod. She yelled.

“I think I’ve caught something!”

She lifted the rod with much difficulty, and out of the water emerged Winnie and his Magikarp!

“Wow, your Magikarp looks seriously hurt!”

“How could you tell?”

“Oh, well, it just broke in half.”

Winnie looked down, it was true! He had snapped Magikarp’s fragile spine with his bare hands in anxiety.

“Oops,” said Winnie.

“No matter, the Pokemon Center will fix that.”

“Okay, thanks for the bike!”

“What?”

Winnie leapt out of the water, grabbed the girl’s bike and rode off towards the Pokemon Center.

“It’s okay, I’ll return it someday! Like, never!”

*

A terrible storm began, and in the torrential rain, he lost control of his bike and out flew him and Magikarp, the flock had caught up, and Winnie decided to shield Magikarp in an act of bravado, and oh, of course, “love”.

“Get back in the Pokeball! I’ll hold them off!”

Magikarp flopped feebly, and was touched. Winnie had become a true Pokemon Master because he loved his Pokemon! Magikarp felt empowered, and suddenly used Thunder Splash! A special variant of Splash that was exactly like Thunder except in name!

The attack scattered the Staraptor flock, but it was not enough. Magikarp detected another threat still present, and launched another Thunder Splash attack at the bike!

“Good job, Magikarp. For a moment there I thought we were doomed. That bike looked ready to pounce!”

The skies began to clear, as Ho-oh flew over them.

Winnie gasped.

“OMG, it means we have destiny!”

d e c a y

d e c a y

de·cay [di-key]
–noun
-a gradual falling into an inferior condition; progressive decline
-decline in or loss of strength, health, intellect, etc.

Cecil was aghast.

How could they?

He fumed as he recalled the conversation he had with The Boss but minutes ago.

“Cecil. I can’t say much to you about this matter. I’m sorry about the demotion. But trust me. It’s only… Temporary. The matter will soon be resolved.”

Oh, a man of subtlety indeed! But Cecil could see past the smokescreens of The Boss.

Resolved?

Meaning he would soon be fired of course. Just a matter of time.

To add insult to injury, Cyrus had replaced him in his position.

Cyrus was a middle-aged man. From what he had heard, he apparently had a wife and two young children. Balding and slightly bent from what he had heard was a construction site accident, he had taken over the managerial position for no apparent reason.

Have I not done my job well enough?

Of course, Cyrus was not without qualifications. He knew that higher up there had been talk of promoting him. Admittedly, he had once admired Cyrus.

He had a passion for the company he could never dream to have. He had a heart for the people, and he continually strived to make a positive difference for the company. Inspiring he was, and qualified he was. The only reason he had not been promoted so he heard, was because the company “had time”, and wanted to give the inexperienced young people a chance. One of them had been him.

But why take it from me now?

He had finally established a career, and had recently become a father.

Why now?

- – -

Cyrus sighed.

The company had promoted him at last. Finally he could achieve his lifelong dream.

Furthermore the company had secured the land deal to build the Sanctuary of the Stricken; homes created to house dying cancer patients, and brighten up their final few months.

He could feel warmth coursing throughout his body. The mere thought of giving back to society on such a scale…

He sighed again.

The fulfilment of his dream however, meant the death of another.

He had in the process, taken over, no, usurped the position of Cecil.

Cecil was a capable young man. He knew he could bring the company to greater heights.

At least he knew the management had planned well. The matter would be resolved soon. Cecil would not have to suffer too long.

Still, he knew it would be hard.

Perhaps a visit is in order.

- – -

Come here to rub it in eh?

Cecil stared hatefully at Cyrus.

“Cecil, I’m so sorry about this. I promise you, it’ll all be over soon enough. Honestly.”

“Sure it will,” Cecil snarled.

“Cecil. Please. You have to listen to me. Hear me out. Let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain!”

Cecil pushed Cyrus out the door, slamming it shut.

“Daddy?”

Cecil looked back. It was his daughter.

“I’m so sorry Jenny dear. Daddy can’t bring you to Disneyland this year. But I promise you, I’ll bring you there someday.”

“Daddy, I don’t care about Disneyland. I just need you and Mummy.”

Tears filled his eyes.

Indeed. What had he lost?

He still had his family.

- – -

For the umpteenth time since his promotion, Cyrus sighed.

It must have hit him hard.

Starting up his car, he drove to the nearby cemetery, turning up the radio on full blast.

Once the car was filled with the sweet sound of young innocent laughter, the scent of baby powder, and the sight of his beloved. Older than before, but no less lovely.

Then he lost them. He could still vividly recall that fateful night.

The night.

It was late at night, the soft sounds of the kids sleeping in the back, the light sound of his wife humming her favourite tune, when a car, its driver clearly drunk, swerved into their lane.

A scream.

A flash.

Then silence.

Then soft sobs. Were they his own?

But they must be. For his family was dead.

Yet he was untouched but for a few scratches and broken arm.

The few moments he took to recall the incident had drained him.

As he knelt weeping in front of the headstones of the family he once had, he fell silent. Exhausted, he slept, palms covering the pictures of his wife and children, as if to protect them from the corrupting rain threatening to smear the crude images that could never do justice to the ones he so loved.

- – -

Cecil frowned.

Checking the slip of paper, he compared the unit number to the one he had written in ink, now smeared slightly by the sudden downpour.

No, but the address was correct.

He must have gone out.

Turning back, he walked smack into Cyrus.

Cyrus was not in good shape.

His eyes were red; he seemed to have been crying. Were those tears he saw on his cheek? Or merely raindrops?

“So sorry Cecil. I understand the demotion must have been horrible for you to endure.”

“It’s okay Cyrus. I’ve come to apologize for earlier on.”

“In which case, your apology is accepted,” said Cyrus with a smile.

“I just have one request. Could you ask higher up to just fire me straight away? I’ll understand. I’d rather have the time to go around looking for a new job.”

“Fire you?” Cyrus ran his fingers through his hair, “I’m afraid you must be mistaken.”

“Mistaken? What was all that about the matter being ‘resolved’ soon then?”

Cyrus hesitated.

“Please, come inside.”

Cyrus’ house was a simple one. However, it had a feeling of emptiness within it. As if it had suddenly been abandoned.

“Please, take a seat. Would you like a glass of water?”

“No thanks.”

“We’ll get to the point then. You’re not being fired.”

“I’m not?”

“You’re not.”

“Well. That’s… Wonderful.”

“In fact, you should be back in your old position in three months or so.”

“But, what about you?”

“My post is only temporary. The management wanted me in charge of the Sanctuary Project, which has been assigned to your department. The completion of the Sanctuary has incidentally been my lifelong dream.”

“Oh,” said Cecil, feeling foolish.

“Is that all you have to ask?”

“Yes,” said Cecil, pausing.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave now.”

- – -

Cecil’s heart soared.

Just three months and I’ll be back!

He could not believe his ears.

- – -

Yes, just three months more to live…

The sudden announcement of the doctor had shocked him.

Perhaps it was because of his cancer that The Boss had promoted him to take charge of the project.

It was ironic.

Afflicted with the very disease whose victims he hoped to reach out to.

Well, then there’s no time to lose.

Switching on his laptop, he began to work furiously.

- – -

Three months later…

“Cyrus is WHERE?”

Cecil was shocked. Cyrus was dying and in hospital.

No.

Over the three months, they had worked together closely on the project, spending many late nights together rushing out proposals.

“Does his family know?”

Now that he thought about it, Cecil realised he had never seen Cyrus’ family in person, though he often saw the family picture that hung in his living room.

Cyrus’ secretary looked at him strangely.

“Don’t you know? His family all died in a car accident four months ago.”

And he considered himself Cyrus’ good friend! How could he have never asked about Cyrus’ family?

He hid it from me. He didn’t want me to feel guilty.

- – -

Cyrus lay in the hospital bed. He hated the feeling.

Awaiting death.

But he knew it was all right.

He would go regretting nothing. He had lived a life worth living.

The door swung open, revealing Cecil.

“Cyrus, what else have you kept from me? Your family was dead and you never told me?”

“I didn’t see the need. And I didn’t want your pity.”

“What else do I not know.”

Cyrus smiled, “Well, this is cancer, and I’ll be dead pretty soon. And I knew this three months ago.”

Cecil was stunned. Was that why he had been promoted to handle the Sanctuary project? To fulfil his lifelong dream before he departed?

“Probably, though I never actually asked The Boss specifically about it,” said Cyrus.

Noticing the strange look Cecil gave him, he added, “You don’t talk to yourself particularly softly.”

“I’m so sorry Cyrus. I never knew all this.”

“Why be sorry Cecil? There is nothing to be sorry for. I have lived a life I’m proud of. I’ve achieved my lifelong dream. And I’ll be with my family in heaven soon.”

Cecil felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

Once, I was so jealous of Cyrus, only seeing my own temporal, superficial decay in status. I was blind to what I had, my family and my health. Yet this man… He had lost both, before he even had a chance to achieve his lifelong dream. Was such gain to him? A mere pittance in comparison to what he had lost.

“Cecil, can you promise me just one thing?”

“Anything, Cyrus.”

“This Sanctuary, I want it to show the world, that a person’s health can decay, but that he can still flourish, and that he can live a life equal to, or better than anyone else. Can you promise it will be well run, and to this purpose?”

“Of course, Cyrus.”

And the two friends wept in silence.

- – -

“The Sanctuary will provide a place where cancer patients will live a happy and fulfilling life. A place where they can live life to the fullest. To achieve their dreams. For our lives are like a candle. Its value is found not in how long it lasts, but how many people to whom it gives light. I declare the Cyrus Memorial Sanctuary for the Stricken, open!”

As he saw the cancer patients, young and old, enter the home, enjoying the facilities, he knew he would die without regrets.

Cyrus’ dream and his had become one, and he had fulfilled it.

Their health might decay, but their lives would not.

For you, Cyrus.

- – -

Cecil – Origin: Latin, Meaning: Blind

Cyrus: Origin: Persian, Meaning: Far-sighted

- – -

Life is an irony…

The Bargain

The Bargain

bar·gain
–noun
1. an advantageous purchase, esp. one acquired at less than the usual cost: The sale offered bargains galore.

alternatively

2. an agreement between parties settling what each shall give and take or perform and receive in a transaction.

“Do I have your word?”

“I swear on my life.”

“Not as long as your life is part of the deal.”

“I know what I have put at stake in this bargain. And you know for that I will keep it.”

“And you will do well to remember what you have sworn.”

The rain continued to fall, merging with the tears silently falling from Willow Vawne’s eyes, mingling among them, diluting them till there were none at all.

All that remained was his resolve.

The irony of it all, he, the world’s most feared and highly skilled assassin, now had to turn himself in on purpose. He laughed inwardly. How he had prided himself in never leaving a trace of evidence! Now, he would openly admit to a killing. One he was not even being paid for, but rather, a job that a man no less ruthless than himself had blackmailed him into accepting.

How often he had mocked that others used every means available to them to guard what in truth was of no value. Riches, wealth, reputation. Yet they failed to guard what truly was important, their lives, and the lives of those they loved. Now he found that he himself had made the same mistake. The lives of his family, and his, were now mere objects to be used on the bargaining table.

Slowly, he made his way to the city central. There, from the highest tower, he would announce through an elaborately prepared audio system, that he had killed the president in his sleep. That done, he had fulfilled his side of the bargain. The lives of his family members would be safe, and would be under the protection of the soon to be president, the current vice-president and his last ever client.

He was already at the tower. Now he just had to make his way to the roof. Silently he made his way into the lift. He had replayed the setup in his mind so many times he could visualize himself, holding the microphone in his hands, announcing through gigantic, deafening speakers, that he was guilty of killing the president, not for a client, but rather the deed being self-motivated.

Just a flight of stairs now, and he would be at the roof, and before he knew it, he had already said it. Or was it all a bad dream? Perhaps he would wake in the morning, and find himself in bed, awaking to a new day, with new clients to attend to, new jobs to complete.

Whatever it was, he would not let himself be humiliated, whether it was a dream or reality. Judged by a man who had hired him. If he would perish, he would do so in his own hands, and not in those of a hypocrite.

As he fell off the edge of the tower, the world rushing past him, in another sense of he word, he had not had a bargain at all.

Chapter 7 [Manyula: Spawn of Evil]

Chapter Seven: Midori/Gouka
Intellectual/Intuitive

Silently, a Leafeon emerged from behind a tree. Midori was her name. Intellectual and precise, she was the mastermind behind her squadron’s successes.

Her impeccable ability to strategize and predict exactly how the enemy would react in a situation was invaluable, and her knowledge of her environment had proved useful time and time again, leading the enemy into natural pitfalls and traps.

A Flareon smashed straight through a dense grove, incinerating his environment in a burst of flame. He was Gouka. The perfect partner for Midori, what she lacked was in him in great volumes.

He was a feral, intuitive partner, who relied on gut rather than wit. He fought first, and thought later. Always taking the initiative to make the first attack in a battle, his reckless charges were rarely strategic, and usually did more harm than good.

But that was where Midori came into the picture. Planning ahead, she conveyed her strategies and intentions to Gouka, refining his raw power into a far more dangerous thing. Together they had forged a powerful weapon, capable of taking down the strongest foes.

Midori carefully inspected the surroundings.

“Gouka, if you keep on burning everything you see, we might as well give up trying to trap the target, and instead simply charge ahead and get ourselves destroyed.”

“Why can’t we? I don’t see how much power you’d need to take down a Regirock. Slow, fat, it’d be done for before it knew what hit it.”

Midori smiled.

“But where would the fun be in that?”

“Oh, yes, of course. A painless death would be too good for it,” Gouka said, grinning sadistically.

“I thought we’d already agreed on humiliating Regirock.”

“Yes, yes, I forgot. My bad.”

He rather self-consciously stepped away from a large tree.

“Hang on. We’ve got new orders.”

Gouka grinned excitedly.

“Are they to burn everything in sight?”

“No,” said Midori coldly, glaring at Gouka, “In fact, this actually calls for less fun than before. We are to lead Regirock to this ancient relic. Apparently it holds another legendary, and it is the only way of opening the inner chamber.”

“Darn, can’t we kill it first then drag its damned carcass there?”

“You want to take the risk of the chamber not opening if Regirock is dead? Because if you do, I’m fine with that, just don’t come running to me if Lord Manyula’s all upset about not eliminating whatever legendary lurks within that chamber.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

Even Gouka knew better than to risk Manyula’s wrath.

Suddenly the earth began to tremble; Starly abandoned their roosts, fleeing the approach of the giant presence.

“Such lack of consideration. Rampaging through the forest like that,” Midori said with much distaste.

“On the bright side, at least it’s easy to know when it’s coming,” Gouka replied.

“I’d already set up trip lines all over the forest. I knew Regirock was approaching fifteen minutes ago…”

“Oh,” replied Gouka abashedly.

Regirock smashed a large redwood, stumbling clumsily into view. Its seven eyes focused on Gouka and Midori. Registering them as a threat, it launched a Rock Slide attack at the pair, however Regirock was not one known for speed, and they easily dodged the attack, streaking through the forest in a zigzag path. Far ahead enough to be out of range, but close enough to keep the brute following.

“Here’s another good part of this change of plan. It’s easy. That Regirock is absolutely brainless! It’s following without question!” panted Gouka.

The forest opened into a barren snow-covered expanse. Empty save for a lone chamber in the approximate center of the clearing.

Regirock attempted a Stone Edge attack, just barely missing the two, and devastating the area of impact.

A sudden wave of cool swept the area. Regice had arrived, launching an Icy Wind attack at Marina and Thor, their fellow EEVEE members, a Vaporeon and Jolteon.

A powerful Flash Cannon attack from Registeel illuminated the area, narrowly avoided by Voyante, an Espeon, and Eclipse, an Umbreon.

All this however, paled in comparison to the beauty and raw power of the Ice Beam which shot through the chaos, shaking the chamber.

Aurora, the Glaceon, General of EEVEE, had arrived.

Chapter 6 [Manyula: Spawn of Evil]

Chapter Six: Codename EEVEE
Secrets. While they may be hidden, no matter to how great an extent well one hides them, though one may try to deceive oneself into thinking otherwise,

they still exist.

Not more than several kilometres away from Manyula’s headquarters, it was surprisingly calm.

A solitary rock stood in the middle of a large field. It was as foggy as it had always been for years past, and would continue to be for many years to come.

It had been avoided for generations, for a legend warned that anyone who entered was cursed for life.

Clearly however, this view was not held by all. A Glacia emerged from a hole that had mysteriously appeared in the rock. Tossing her secondary ears gracefully, she scanned the area carefully.

Seeing no one, she made a signal, as a series of 6 other Eevee split evolutionary forms followed.

They were divided into three separate squadrons, firstly, an Espeon and Umbreon, next, a Jolteon and a Vaporeon, and lastly a Leafia and a Flareon.

The Glacia worked alone. Her name was Aurora, the leader of the EEVEE division, a group of seven Eevee evolutionary forms working secretly for Manyula undercover. Few within the Manyula Organization knew of their existence, much less anyone outside of it.

For those that knew, it was too late. EEVEE had enjoyed one hundred percent mission success for every assignment to date, and they intended to keep it that way.

Manyula himself had personally trained them since they were newborn Eevee, and they had learned everything there was to learn about stealth and battling. Their bond was a highly complex one. Guardian and ward, teacher and student, master and servant. However they had also learnt the most important thing Manyula had to teach. Emotional detachment. They would not weep if he departed, nor would he if they were killed on an assignment.

It was a simple yet effective philosophy that maximised efficiency and guaranteed success. Without emotional attachment, they could freely and relentlessly endeavour throughout their assignments, if a comrade fell, they would not pause, but simply charge with more determination than before.
However, even the most guarded of souls can sometimes give way to the insidious infiltration of emotions. Emotions were after all a natural part of all sentient beings, no matter how one tries to remove it, it once again would emerge anew, growing, penetrating one’s emotional guards. The denial of emotion is but temporary, one must be like a gardener of the soul, and must have the endurance to repeatedly uproot the weeds of emotion that ceaselessly sprout.

Fortunately for EEVEE, they were effective gardeners, and the weeds had not yet gotten in the way.

Such a lack of emotion was also especially essential for a secret organization whose existence is denied. Without the mental resilience they had gained through the muting of their feelings, their secretive existence and the lack of love from the outside world, an untempered soul would surely break in despair and pain.

But these were no ordinary beings.

They were the elite.

Hated and misunderstood perhaps.

But they were undeniably the best of the best, the most discrete and successful assassins in the entire known world.

They were the seven members of EEVEE.