Pokémon Fight and Flight

[ShinyMachoke]

AO3 link

NOTE: this was originally written in 2012. It takes place in the world of PMD-Explorers, a now defunct group on deviant art. I'll try and make familiarity with the group not required to read and enjoy the story. Seeing as this is a 10 year old fic, it needed a lot of editing. My original illustrations from 2012 will be posted, too. This is a completed story, and updates will take place on Fridays and Mondays.

WARNINGS (applies to the whole fic): Violence with death and blood present, depictions of trauma, Pokemon preying on each other, light profanity, mention of infanticide, one bathroom moment.

Chapter 1: Speed Demon (this post!)
Chapter 2: A Chilling Departure
Chapter 3: Trials of Survival
Chapter 4: Journey to Tao
Chapter 5: Second Wind
____________________________________

​

Chapter 1: Speed Demon

A healthy fear and wariness of one’s own surroundings were lessons taught to every young Taillow. Small and relatively weak, speed was the one advantage the tiny birds had against predators, from the egg-stealing Ekans to the sharp-clawed Sneasel. The latter were especially dangerous due to their speed and tendency to know icy attacks, a weakness against most flyers.

A pair of Taillow parents, having lost a clutch of eggs to a hungry Sneasel before, were especially cautious with their children, teaching their chicks the importance of honing their flying skills. One of their daughters, Chirpy (or Cyclone, as she liked to be called), took these lessons to heart. Being the first to learn how to fly, it didn’t take long for her siblings to follow her speedy example.

One sunny afternoon, Cyclone was practice-flying with her sister, Songy (their other siblings being Tweety and Singy... they had faint memories of another brother, Screamy, but he was mysteriously gone one day, said to have fallen out of the nest). The Taillow sisters decided that their practice should take place higher above the treeline, so they could get maximum air and be the safest from danger.

“Watch this, Chirpy!” Songy said as she did a loop-de-loop in the air.

“I told you, call me Cyclone!” the other Taillow shouted, spinning rapidly as she gained altitude. “Get a load of my signature Twister!”

“Well, check out my Aerial Ace!” Songy challenged as she cut through the air back and forth.

“Lame, I’ve got Aerial Ace too!”

“Mine’s faster!”

“Oh yeah? Race you to that pine!”

“Ah, the trees? Wait, Chirpy...”

“Keep up! And don’t call me Chirpy!”

Cyclone sped towards the tall evergreen with fervent wing beats, Songy feeling she had no choice but to follow. The sisters were soon neck and neck, eventually Songy just barely taking the lead. At the last moment, the swift birds expertly gripped onto a bare branch with their talons, their race destination.

“Shoot!” Cyclone said, “You beat me! I woulda won if you...”

Suddenly, a blur of black fur and pink shot past the sisters, and in a flash, Songy was gone. Cyclone froze, dumbfounded until she heard the sound that no Taillow ever wanted to hear: the distress call. A shrill, desperate screaming could be heard far below the treeline, as well as claws swiftly scraping against wood.

A Sneasel.

Not wasting another moment, Cyclone dove below the treeline. Navigating the confusing mess of leaves and branches proved to be a challenge, the Taillow nearly finding herself tangled in the natural obstacles. Once she spotted the Sneasel leaping through the trees, Cyclone concentrated hard, trying to focus so she could use Agility. Her sister’s distress screams could still be heard. It was not too late.

In the blink of an eye, Cyclone finally built enough speed to slam into the predator. Though much smaller than the Sneasel, she was able to knock it down and, to her relief, Songy fell from its jaws. The Sneasel quickly regained its footing, eyes wide in surprise. It looked back, its eyes narrowing as it realized its attacker was just another Taillow.

“Go away! Leave her alone!” Cyclone yelled. She struck the Sneasel with her body again, bouncing back like a boomerang. The move seemed to work, for the creature cried out and fell backwards, crashing into the branches below.

“Good riddance, jerkface! Hey, Songy, where ya at?”

Cyclone flew around until she spotted a trembling blue ball of feathers huddled in the cavity of a nearby tree. She glided to her sister and poked her with the tip of her wing.

“Hey, get up. It’s safe now. I saved you!”

Songy lifted her head, her eyes wide yet dull.

“Um... are you hurt?” Cyclone asked.

Songy just slowly shook her head back and forth as she lifted her wings, slowly flapping them up and down.

“Well it looks like you can at least fly. Boy, you shoulda seen how fast and cool I was! Of course, you couldn’t see how awesome I looked, seeing how you were in that thing’s mouth and all.”

“Stop,” Songy quietly interrupted. “I just want to go home.”

Cyclone averted her eyes, uneasy. She then turned around, looking back to make sure Songy would be following, and the two sisters silently made their way back to the family nest.

***


“You did what?!” Cyclone and Songy’s parents squawked in unison.

“I totally saved Songy’s tail feathers from some slimey ol’ Sneasel! She would have been dead meat if not for me!”

Songy, huddled between their parents, remained silent, her head drooping.

“I told you countless times, only use your speed to escape danger!” their father scolded.

“And I told you, that ice rat came outta nowhere! What, you want Songy to be dead right now?”

Songy whimpered and buried her head under her wing. Her mother began preening her.

The father just sighed. His reckless daughter had a point. “Look. I am glad that you were able to fight that creature off. But please, never endanger yourself again. If you two were more aware of your surroundings, this never would have happened in the first place.”

“Bull! We can’t predict everything!”

“This is why you need to learn to be more cautious, to always be on the lookout!” To prove a point, the father Taillow harshly pecked Cyclone on the head. She glared back, feathers ruffled.

“So, this is the thanks I get?”

“Please, keep your voices down” the mother Taillow interrupted. She continued to gently preen Songy. Cyclone scoffed. How could her sister, her best training partner, turn into this sad sack after one little bad experience? How could her own parents not recognize how heroic and awesome she was?

Well, she would just have to get better, faster, and stronger.

From then on, nearly every day, Cyclone urged Songy to come out and train with her. “Um, not today. I’ll just... stick close to the nest. Train around here.”

“You’ll never get stronger staying at home all day! Come on, Tweety and Singy are too slow and boring, don’t be like them!”

Their morning conversations always ended with Songy remaining silent and Cyclone huffing in exasperation, and then taking off. Their parents had given up trying to get her to listen to their advice. If she wanted to be a daredevil and end up as a Sneasel snack, so be it. There was only so much they could do to ensure her survival.

Cyclone spent her days trying to perfect her moves, sometimes using a dead branch or even a low hanging cloud for target practice. One time, she saw a Caterpie crawling along the forest floor. Cyclone gained altitude and then dive-bombed into the hapless bug, its guts exploding on impact. Wasting a potential meal was never a wise idea, but the spectacle was worth it. It was too bad the rest of her other family members were missing out on all this fun. The rare times Cyclone encountered a Sneasel, she merely had to perform the boomerang slam, U-Turn, to beat them back and ward them off. They were almost too easy to defend against.

 

[ShinyMachoke]

Happy Valentine's day! Ready for some blood and violence?



Chapter 2: A Chilling Departure

One spring morning, the Taillow family found themselves huddled together in a tight cluster, shivering. Cyclone roused from sleep and spotted her father perched at the opening of the tree hole their nest resided in. She hopped up to join his side and was astonished at the sight before them; Creeping Forest was completely blanketed in a thick, white cloak, with odd white flakes plummeting from the sky.

“What is...” Cyclone stammered.

“It’s snow.”

“I’ve never felt this cold in my life.”

“You’ve only been alive for a short time. It stopped snowing shortly before your mother and I had your eggs. This is not right.”

The pair was then joined by the mother of the family. She turned to her mate. “This coldness will give our foes an advantage. Are the kids ready to migrate?”

“Wha... migrate? Why!” Cyclone cried out.

Her father smirked. “Is my headstrong daughter actually scared?”

“No! I’m not scared of some cold, white crap! And I am not going to make it force me to leave!”

The parent Taillow said nothing back, being accustomed to Cyclone’s stubborn arrogance. The pair just hopped back to the nest, rousing the rest of their adolescent children up.

“Tweety, Singy, Songy! Rise and shine, my darlings!”

“Ugh, why is it so cold?” asked Tweety, the lone male offspring.

The parents briefly explained what winter was, and how it shouldn’t be happening at this time of year. They also informed their children that, to ensure the family’s survival, they would have to migrate to a warmer climate for an indeterminate amount of time.

“So we’re all just giving up?” Cyclone squawked.

“Chirpy, get real...” Singy sighed.

“Quit calling me Chirpy!”

Feathers puffed in frustration, Cyclone lunged at Singy, talons-first. Their father was quick to intervene, tackling Cyclone onto her back. The shock of the cold, as well as her father fighting back, stunned the young Taillow.

“Wow,” Cyclone said breathlessly. “Dad... I didn’t know you had it in you!”

The father just gave a sharp peck to Cyclone’s head and stepped back, glaring. He realized that he and his mate may have dropped the wrong hatchling from the nest.

“Chirpy. This is not the time. Especially not now. We cannot stay in Creeping Forest. The Caterpie, Wurmple, and berries we depend on for survival are sure to be killed off by now. And as your mother mentioned, our most feared enemy, the Sneasel, thrive in this cold weather. If you remain here, you will be alone. You will die.”

“I will not die,” Cyclone spat.

Her father just raised his head and puffed out his chest. He looked to his mate and nodded.

“I see other flocks leaving,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The parent Taillow flew from the tree hole, soon followed by Tweety and Singy. Songy half-heartedly leapt to the edge of the nest exit.

“Hey, Songy! Let’s train together! Sure, this snow stuff sucks, but it’ll be a fun challenge!”

Songy turned around to face her sister. In that moment, Cyclone noticed how dull Songy’s once vibrant plumage looked, how she held her head low and shoulders high, how her large, dark eyes glistened.

“I’m sorry, Cyclone,” Songy said. She then hopped from the tree hole and flew off to catch up with her family.

Without a second thought, Cyclone took off after her sister. “Hey, get back!” she cried out, voice echoing through the chilling forest. Despite her weak state, Songy effortlessly soared through the maze of trees and branches. Their previous training had paid off after all.

“Songy! Hey! If you leave me, you’ll be weak like the rest of them! Like all Taillow! We don’t have to flee, we can fight!”

Songy just beat her wings harder, convinced her noisy sister would attract a whole slew of unwanted attention. In the distance she saw not only her family but other Taillow, the birds instinctively forming a flock in preparation for the sudden migration.

The distance between Cyclone and Songy grew and grew. Shouting and breathing in frigid air began to take its toll on the young bird, so Cyclone glided to an old oak tree to rest, the snow-cloaked branch stinging her feet. She panted rapidly and puffed out her feathers. Songy was no longer in sight.

That cowardly traitor. Songy was no different from the rest of those defeatists. Why should some coldness and white junk force them all to give up their home and move away? It was a challenge. Cyclone’s father said that if she stayed in Creeping Forest she would die. She’d prove him wrong. She’d prove them all wrong. Somehow.

Something suddenly slammed into Cyclone, sending her tumbling off her perch. She landed clumsily in the snowy ground, her fatigue and surprise making her forget to open her wings. She frantically looked up and spotted her assailant, a Liepard dangling from the tree branch, scrambling to hold on with its claws.

“Missed! Curse this blasted snow!” the feline hissed, tail whipping in frustration.

Cyclone pulled herself from the snow and shook herself off. She spread her wings, flicked her forked tail, and flew to a nearby shrub to hide.

Wait, hide?

Don’t be weak. Don’t let this cold crap get to you. Don’t be some worthless giver-upper like Dad, Mom, Tweety and Singy. And Songy. Stupid cat. Stupid cold. Stupid, jerk-face cat.

Hatred boiled within Cyclone. Her tiny body trembled, partly from fear, mostly from anger. A soft thud was heard, the Liepard having launched itself from the tree and onto the ground. Cyclone peered from her hiding place. The disturbed snow and stray blue feathers gave away where she was. So what. Let that purple, spotted idiot find her. It would regret it.

Seeing the shaking bush, the Liepard smiled to itself. This was too easy. It hunched down, wiggled its hindquarters, and pounced. The Liepard wasn’t prepared for a screeching ball of fury and hate to come barreling out of the bush with scraping talons and a piercing beak, the latter jabbing it in the eye. The Liepard yowled and swiped its paw, missing its attacker.

“Dummy! Idiot! A...asshole!”

Cyclone continued throwing insults and fierce pecks. The Liepard turned tail and ran. Oh no, it wouldn’t get off that easy. Fueled by rage, Cyclone kept up her assault on the cat, striking it with U-turn over and over.

“Damn pest! Let me alone!” Liepard snarled as it ran.

“Make me!”

“As you wish!”

In the blink of an eye, Liepard’s long tail slashed through the air, striking a shallow cut across Cyclone’s chest. The slash only made the Taillow more determined to show this predator who’s boss.

She flapped her wings harder, flecks of blood flying in her wake. Using all of her strength, Cyclone crashed into the Liepard, sending the much larger creature slamming into an old, gnarled tree. Cyclone had built up so much speed she struck the ground and rolled painfully until she crashed into a snowbank.



Letting out a shuddered breath, Cyclone rose to her feet, crying out as a sharp pain shot through one of her legs. Dread hit her as she realized one of her wings hung limply at her side. She turned to face where the Liepard was. Surely, in an injured and bleeding state, she would become its next meal. Her gaze met the hunter’s. The Liepard just stared at Cyclone, one eye squinted from the injury she inflicted on it. It lowered its ears and retreated, limping, until it was out of sight within the natural darkness of the forest.

Cyclone hunkered down into a resting position. Her body screamed in agony, yet she felt proud of winning this fight. Heck, she’d try and fight off the next fool who tried to mess with her. Even though she figured she would die soon, she’d go down fighting. Death didn’t scare her.

A sudden calm warmth washed over Cyclone’s body as positive thoughts flooded her brain. She was vaguely aware of the concept of good feelings to occur to one who’s life was draining away, however she felt more invigorated than ever, as if something more than blood was pumping through her veins, making her feel bigger, stronger. She glanced down at her chest where the Liepard’s sharp tail struck her and, to her astonishment, instead of a cut there was a wide, V-shaped stripe. It finally occurred to Cyclone that she was evolving.

Cyclone had no idea her kind could evolve. She knew it happened to other beings, she had seen Purrloin and Liepard, Pidgey and Pidgeotto, various caterpillars and coccoons. Her mother and father had just never mentioned evolution.

Swellow.

She knew that’s what her kind were called, somehow. The term just appeared in her mind. Feelings of bitterness and resentment came to the young bird once more. So all this time, her parents could have evolved and faired better in protecting their own young, not to mention themselves? Surely they were aware they could become Swellow. Did they just not want to try? Weak, stupid defeatists. And they’d drag her poor siblings into their life of mediocrity, constantly timid and fearful. She thought about how Songy, once full of virility, grew listless and dull. All because she was abducted by some dumb Sneasel for all of three minutes.

Worthless.

 

[ShinyMachoke]

Chapter 3: Trials of Survival

Cyclone flew to higher ground. She was astonished how smoothly she could fly now. Fewer wing beats were needed to gain altitude and... to do anything, really. A dull ache gnawing at her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t yet eaten today, and she had used a tremendous amount of energy. Apparently, the natural healing powers of evolution were no cure for hunger. Cyclone gently glided off her perch in search of food. While she hated having to be careful, even she knew her recklessness had its limits.

Cyclone found that the sudden cold weather caused the small Bug types she sustained on to die, some frozen in place. If she were not starving, she’d scoff at the lack of challenge. She approached a petrified Wurmple, its body stretched out as if reaching for a leaf at the time of its frosty demise. Knowing Wurmple’s spikey, pink back offered it natural protection, Cyclone pecked at its soft, pale underbelly. It took a few tries, due to its frozen state, but she finally pierced its skin to get to the gooey guts within. She shoved her face into the opening, not caring that she got its innards all over herself.

“Hey!” an angry voice squawked from above.

Cyclone removed her face from her buggy meal and saw an irritated blue, red, and white bird circling above her.

“Oh! A fellow Swellow!” Cyclone exclaimed.



“Fellow this!” cried the other Swellow as it splayed its clawed feet and dove towards Cyclone, barely missing her. A warning strike.
Cyclone flew a short distance and, facing her attacker, shouted, “What’s the big idea, loser?”

“This is my territory, idiot!”

Before the other Swellow could attempt to assault Cyclone once more, she turned tail and flew off. Being newly evolved and barely satiated, she knew she was outmatched. Well, this was what she was up against now. It was a shame she couldn’t befriend that Swellow, ask how it became a cool survivor like her, but apparently her kind were antisocial. So be it. She would have to work extra hard to ensure she’d claim her own territory, fight off other evolved birds. This was the life of a tough Swellow.

As the weeks wore on, Cyclone was pushed further and further from the familiar piece of forest she grew up in. While the small songbird population had all but vacated Creeping Forest, many evolved ones remained, much to Cyclone’s chagrin. Sure, it was entertaining and surprisingly easy for her to fight off ground-bound foes, but aerial adversaries were another story, and the young Swellow was no match for the more experienced birds she encountered. Every solo practice session, every time she wanted to eat, heck, even when she just wanted to casually fly around for fun, was interrupted by a Pidgeotto, Staravia, or some other large bird squabbling about its territory.

Territory this, territory that. Shut up already!

This new area seemed to bring some peace to the worn Swellow. An unnatural clearing formed a path that cut through the forest. Had it not been for the sudden snowfall, various Pokemon would be traversing this road going to and from the nearby Sapling Village. Cyclone knew nothing of the village, or even the towering Castle Draclugia a few miles away. All that mattered to her was that those damn birds had finally left her alone. She had claimed her own coveted territory.

Food was hard to come by, as always. The caterpillars had been cleaned out, and the berries had grown too frostbitten or simply died. One day, in search for a meal, Cyclone spotted something green clinging to the side of a tree. A Metapod. She pecked and scraped it its hard shell, finding no weak point.

Cyclone snorted in frustration. Remembering her training, she flew away from the Metapod, steadily gaining altitude. She grinned, looking forward to the carnage her Aerial Ace would bring forth. She dove downwards, shattering the cocoon upon impact. Instead of gelatinous innards she was met with a cloud of dust. Apparently, some of the caterpillars went into a chrysalis state upon the arrival of the cold snap, yet didn’t have the benefit of an entire spring and summer to gorge on leaves and become deliciously juicy.

“I can’t eat this!” Cyclone cried out. She angrily tore through the dust and ravaged the Metapod’s husk. She cursed, she screamed, she slashed with her talons. She continued unleashing her wrath on tree bark, dead wood, anything in her way. If some annoying bird approached her complaining about TERRITORY now, she surely would have murdered it.



The outrage eventually subsided and Cyclone settled down near the obliterated Metapod pieces. She pecked at the dust and, while dry and unpleasant, still tasted of insect. Every once in awhile she’d have to take a break and ingest some snow to wash it down with. At least water was plentiful. After her meal, Cyclone half-heartedly preened her feathers. Her outburst having taken a lot out of her, she soon gave up. Evening loomed in the sky, tinting the snowy forest in soft blue. Sighing in resignation, Cyclone decided to take roost for the night.

Cyclone settled into a nest of twigs and crinkly dry leaves. She was aware how scruffy and unkempt her plumage looked these days. She felt she had aged a decade despite being barely a half year old.

“I won’t give up,” Cyclone said to herself, voice cracking. She paused, momentarily surprised at how ragged she sounded. “I will beat this cold crap. I won’t die.” Cyclone tucked her head beneath a wing and quickly fell into a deep slumber.

Hours later, Cyclone awoke with a jolt. Despite having so little sleep and being conscious at an unnatural time, she was immediately alert, heart pounding. A terrible wave of dread chilled her to the core. Her head darted back and forth. It was pitch black and completely silent.

It’s nothing. Stop it. Dammit, I hate night time.

A fierce, whistling wind suddenly blasted through the forest. In an instant, Cyclone’s (admittedly) poorly constructed nest disintegrated, sticks and twigs sent flying. Cyclone opened her wings just to be thrown back-first into the side of her tree, the wind pinning her down. Icy volleys of fat snowflakes slapped into the hapless bird. She struggled in place in a blind panic.

Before she knew it, she found herself unpinned but fluttering blindly through the pitch darkness. One moment she was tangled in a dead bush, the next she was scraping along the ground, then she was tossed through the air again. It was a wonder the Swellow hadn’t broken any bones, something she would have prided herself on if she could actually think straight. As luck would have it, Cyclone found herself wedged beneath what seemed to be tree roots. At the very least, they provided some shelter from the blizzard. Cyclone shoved herself deeper under the roots, climbing along the the shallow slope of the earth until she could push herself no further. She would just have to wait this storm out, it seemed.

Did the ground just shake?

It happened, just for a moment. Then again, stronger this time. Cyclone realized what these rhythmic vibrations reminded her of; foot steps. Whatever behemoth these belonged to thundered closer and closer to where Cyclone was sheltered. Just her luck.

“Hey! Hey, Sorbet’s going in the wrong direction! Over here!” someone called out.

A red glow seeped into the entrance of Cyclone's shelter. Despite her intense fear, she treaded carefully from beneath the roots, curious to see where this light was coming from. Her blood ran cold. Bathed in a hellish crimson light stood a massive beast, taller than any tree in Creeping Forest. Before Cyclone could process its features, the light illuminating the giant faded. Shouts from unseen Pokemon were heard. Shrouded in momentary darkness, the monster bellowed a booming, earth shattering roar.

Cyclone had seen enough. She made a mad dash back beneath the roots and, once again, wedged into the burrow as tightly as she possibly could. That terrible roar lingered, permeating the earth, shaking the trees. Cyclone squeezed her eyes shut. Before she knew it, she burst into choked sobs, hot tears dribbling down her face. A shameful act of weakness.

Was this some kind of punishment for not leaving Creeping Forest with her family all of those weeks ago? They were probably safe and warm while Cyclone lay hunkered, freezing and terrified out of her mind in the wake of some otherworldly hell-beast, bawling like a pathetic hatchling. She hated everything. She hated her family, the weather, those other birds, how every day was a constant struggle to survive, and she loathed that fearsome beast. Most of all, she he hated how weak and helpless she had become.

 

[ShinyMachoke]

Spoiler: Notes and Credits

Notes: This chapter and the next contains several characters and concepts that belonged to PMD-Explorers. You can view the wiki here if you're curious about them, and the group itself. As I stated before, knowledge about the group is not required for reading and understanding this story. Cyclone herself is learning about this world, and you get to learn alongside with her :D.
Jill, Ivory, Samual, Lady Merlot, and Sorbet belong to PMD-Explorers and are not my characters.
Tao Village, Creeping Forest (should have mentioned this sooner, whoops), and Castle Draclugia are all places that belong to PMD-Explorers.

Chapter 4: Journey to Tao

Cyclone had no idea how long she’d been hunkered in her shelter. She’d drift off in short bursts only to jolt awake again. She would then remain motionless, hazy thoughts drifting through her head until she’d fall back asleep. Her body boiled, despite the frigid weather. Why crawl from here ever again? It’s easier to just accept a slow death.

That’s what she thought until she felt something pulling on her tail feathers, dragging her through the mud and into the open. A scavenger, she figured, a coward come to prey on Cyclone in her drained state. She promised herself that she’d go down fighting even if she knew she didn’t have a chance. Belting out a hoarse squawk, Cyclone flailed wildly, beating her wings and writhing in place.

“Oh my!” a voice cried out, releasing her in the process. “I didn’t know you were still alive, dearie! My apologies!”

The first thing Cyclone noticed was how blindingly bright everything was. Creeping Forest was never this sunny, even on the most clear days, thanks to the canopy of broad leaves and thick branches. As her vision adjusted, Cyclone found herself face to face with a large, winged, grey dragon.



“You!” Cyclone cried out, voice raspy. “Come here to finish the job after last night, eh?” She struggled to keep her footing due to her burning fever. She tried her best to look intimidating, despite being much smaller than this beast and her feathers being caked with mud and dried tear stains.

“Er, what?”

“Poor birdy thinks you be Sorby, Jill,” a new voice said.

The grey creature, Jill, broke out in a roacous cackle. Cyclone would have felt patronized if not for her illness making things feel hazy and dreamlike.

“Bless me, I ain’t a dragon! Just scouring this place fer scraps, ya see.”

Cyclone looked around, finally realizing why her surroundings were so bright. The forest was a mess of fallen timber, tree stumps, and mud. For the first time she noticed that all of the snow was gone, melted away, the once frigid temperature now hot and dry. She must have been more sick than she realized.

“What... happened?”

“Aye, it be a long story, small one. The important thing is that ice dragon, Sorby, be gone now, and that horrible snow be no more.”

A massive bird of a species Cyclone had never before seen sidled up next to Jill. Scruffy black plumage covered her body while, in stark contrast, her head and neck were a deep pink, bare, except for a topknot of dark feathers protruding from the back of her skull. The strange bird titled her head with concern. “Child, you look dreadful. Are you unwell?”

Cyclone barely listened to either creature. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the forest, her home, being in ruins. Don’t cry. It was bad enough when I was alone. Don’t show weakness.

A gentle nudge in the back broke Cyclone from her thoughts. She spun around, head low and wings raised in a defensive posture. She was met with Jill holding a large, green berry in the clawed fingers on her wings, a toothy smile across her draconic face. Despite Jill’s terrifying looks, maternal warmth radiated from her, putting Cyclone at ease.

“What is this,” Cyclone asked.

“It be a Lum berry, sweetie! It’ll perk ya right up. The talented ranchers in Tao Village grow ‘em. They be a bit scarce now, though. I think ya need it.”

Jill held the berry closer to Cyclone’s face, the Swellow only retreating in response. The larger creature dropped the Lum berry. It bounced and rolled to Cyclone’s feet.

“Well, me ‘n Ivory ought to get going, young one, there’s lots o’ work ta be done. Who knows, you might come ‘cross a team needin’ a new member. Be well!”

With a flap of her massive wings, Jill leisurely raised herself off the ground. A powerful slam from her tail propelled her into the air with impressive speed. She was then joined by her bald-headed partner, Ivory. As they departed, Cyclone noticed that a red ribbon adorned Jill’s neck. It was the first time she’d seen such an accessory worn by someone and, unbeknownst to her, would not be the last.

Cyclone eyed the berry suspiciously, having never been offered anything by a creature of a different species. She had heard about how some of the more clever predators used tricks and traps to catch their prey. Jill certainly looked to be a predator, with her long muzzle full of serrated teeth. Still, she didn’t seem to carry any ill will. Why would a random stranger offer a gift and expect nothing in return?

Feeling on the verge of death anyway, Cyclone figured she had nothing to lose. She pecked at the green Lum berry, finding its skin easy to break. She tore into chunks of berry flesh, the variety of flavors from the juices making the fruit all the more appetizing. As she finished the berry, she found herself feeling better than ever. The gravelly sensation in her throat and chest had all but vanished, and her body cooled to a more comfortable temperature.

Cyclone’s chipper mood quickly died as she took in her surroundings once again. So it was not a fever-dream; Creeping Forest was truly obliterated. Cyclone gasped as she spotted a horribly mangled avian body amongst the rubble. Its plumage was blue, white, and red; a fellow Swellow. A sharp, chilling sensation of vulnerability engulfed Cyclone. Gulping, she hastily took to the skies, shooting like a rocket without the barrier of a thick forest canopy slowing her trajectory.

Spending time in the sky eventually settled Cyclone’s nerves. She began to feel peckish; while the Lum berry was vitalizing, it wasn’t satiating. She spotted a small purple creature, a Rattata, limping along the forest floor. Cyclone had never eaten a living thing that wasn’t a bug, seeing how her kind were small and built more for speed than for strength. Surely, the tiny mammal would put up a fight, a far cry from the usual vacant insects Cyclone preyed upon. Well, time to put my dive bomb attack to good use.

Just before the desperate bird gained enough altitude to ready herself for the attack, she noticed two more beings strolling through the woods; another purple mammal, an Aipom, and a Pidgeotto. Why a Pidgeotto would be hanging out with another of a different kind eluded Cyclone. She glided to a broken tree stump to spy on the unusual pair.

The Aipom excitedly bounded to the Rattata. The rat flatted its ears and bared its sharp incisors in defense.

“Heya buddy, don’t be like that!” the Aipom chattered. “I saw that you needed some help! We can bring you to Tao Village and get you all fixed up.”

The Rattata calmed down a bit, twitching its whiskers inquisitively. “You... don’t want to eat me?”

“Of course not,” the Pidgeotto added. “We’re Rescuers! We’re just doing our job. We know a lot of Pokemon here need help since the Sorbet disaster!”

Sorbet, Cyclone thought. Why does that sound so familiar? Oh... didn’t I hear someone say that name last night? Is that what that monster was? A... Sorbet?

The pair continued their conversation with the Rattata, the little rodent growing more at ease as they talked.

“You guys... you’re so nice! How can I ever repay you?”

“If you’d like,” the Aipom said, “You can join our team and help out other Pokemon when you get better.”

“Ah... I’d like that very much! Thank you!”

“Pleasure is all ours, twitch. I’m Handy and this is my pal, Sanders. Welcome to Team Tickles!”

Cyclone almost blew her hiding spot by laughing. She couldn’t believe what she saw. That poor rat was clearly walking into some elaborate trap. Though the Aipom wasn’t a predatory species, it may be an accomplice to the Pidgeotto. Then again, the bird would be putting in quite a lot of effort just to make a meal of a small, injured animal. The two purple mammals hopped onto said Pidgeotto’s back, and it flew off. How shameful, Cyclone thought, shaking her head, this proud bird carting around living snacks.

Over the next several days, Cyclone saw more and more outsiders traversing the forest. Some cleared the fallen timber, others found unfortunate victims and either rescued them or moved their now lifeless bodies. There were even some, who appeared to be part plant themselves, using their mysterious powers to encourage new flora to grow. Cyclone always quietly observed, intrigued yet bemused. She didn’t get why anyone would help a stranger and gain nothing in return, much like that flyer, Jill, she met days ago. She also couldn’t comprehend why they’d want to help restore Creeping Forest without even living there themselves.

As Cyclone took roost each evening, she’d listen to the stories regaled by the Tao stragglers who decided to stake camp for the night. She’d force herself to remain awake as long as possible, absorbing the travelers’ tales. They not only spoke of their home, Tao Village, but other places too, from the tropical beaches of Alomomola Bay to the perpetually icy Whispering Peaks.

The outsiders also conversed amongst themselves of the current happenings of the world. Cyclone strained to listen anytime “Sorbet” was mentioned. From what she could piece together, he was an ancient dragon, known as a “Kyurem”, who had been awakened to fulfill some purpose. His arrival was what initially brought on the strange snowy weather to Creeping Forest. He was apparently a benevolent beast, regarded well enough to be given a name. One day, for no discernable reason, he flew into a mindless rampage, his wrath bringing forth that deadly blizzard. The villagers were able to subdue and return him to his enchanted hibernation.

Cyclone had become more aware of a vast world much larger than she could ever conceive. Her existence so far had been is so small, so brief, amidst the grand events taking place across the land. Cyclone’s own ignorance angered her. She had to know. She needed to find Tao Village. She had to try and make sense of this chaotic world.

The following morning, while in flight, Cyclone spotted a pair of diminutive outsiders. One was a pale, green quadruped with a large leaf sprouting from its head, the other a fluffy orange chick. The leafy creature stood completely still, eyes closed, a glowing energy pulsing from it, its powers encouraging new plant life to sprout from the ground. The orange chick, meanwhile, plucked seeds from a sack strapped across its body, placing the seeds into the earth. Them. She’d ask them. Cyclone dove straight down and abruptly landed between the two Pokemon, startling the pair.

“You... I dropped all the seeds!” The chick peeped in vain.

“Tell me, where is Tao Village?” Cyclone demanded.

“Um, it’s simple really” uttered the leafy creature. A long, green vine unfurled from one of the buds adorning its neck. Acting as an appendage, the vine pointed to a nearby clearing. “See this path? Just follow it, due east, and you’ll arrive there eventually. You’ll see a huge building on the way, that’s Castle Draclugia. You can rest there if you want, Lady Merlot has...”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cyclone interrupted. As she raised her wings to take fight, she glanced at the frazzled little chick frantically pecking up the seeds scattered all around. She smirked. A bird incapable of flight. How pitiful! Head held high, Cyclone took to the skies, performed several aerial loop-de-loops, then sped off. She didn’t at all hear the two young Pokemon remark about her rudeness.

A few hours into her journey, Cyclone happened upon a massive structure. Dark stones formed a massive building with towers reaching high into the sky, and an unnatural-looking body of water surrounding the structure like a ring. Was this Tao?

The flight made Cyclone rather thirsty, so she approached the water’s edge to refresh. Just then, a large, blue creature burst from the surface, drenching Cyclone. She yelped and leapt back. The water being spoke:

“Ah, I yearned to feast my eyes upon my radiant lady love, but instead I, Samual, have come face to beak with an indigo-plumed scrub.”

“Who are you calling scrub, fish-face?”



The aquatic creature merely stuck its long nose in the air, eyes closed.

“My, what an uncouth pauper! Though from a denizen of this godforsaken forest, I expect nothing less.”

“And I see the residents of Tao are a bunch of jerks.”

Samual paused for a moment, and then chuckled, eyes still closed. “My, as ignorant as you are ugly! This is the wonderful abode of the beautiful, stupendous, delicious, elegant Lady Merlot, Castle Draclugia!”

Oh, this place, Cyclone thought.

“My dear, feral feather-duster,” Samual continued, “if you wish to reach Tao Village, simply look for the Monochrome Tower, a spiraling spire of deep black and vibrant white. I believe that even your primitive avian brain can handle such straightforward direction.”

Before he could react, Cyclone had flown into Samual’s face, nearly knocking him from the moat. He retreated just as quickly as she struck him.

“Handle that, snorkle-nose!” Cyclone mocked as she flew away, leaving a cursing sea dragon in her wake.

 

[ShinyMachoke]

Spoiler: Notes and Credits

Notes: As before, several characters and concepts are not mine.
Tao Village, Pidove Post, Sorbet, Scout, Vergil, and Archimedes all belong to the group PMD-Explorers.
Peep is mine, though!

Chapter 5: Second Wind

As Cyclone flew on, fallen woodland gave way to open fields. Various Pokemon traversed the well-worn paths. Just as she was wondering how close she was getting to her destination, she spotted an impossibly tall, narrow black and white spire in the distance. That must be the Monochrome Tower that annoying fish-thing blabbered about. Well, at least he was somewhat useful. Cyclone made a hasty beeline in the direction to said tower.

She momentarily glanced down and nearly dropped from the sky in shock. Giant heads emerging from the ground? First the ice dragon and now these weird monstrosities! Cyclone slowed down and began gliding in wide circles, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. From what she could make out, the giants were completely still, frozen in place. Perhaps not even alive? Mustering up her courage, she began to descend, curious to see these unusual creatures up close.

After a bit of hesitation, Cyclone fluttered into a landing. The massive heads loomed all around her but, as she studied them, she could tell they were not living beings at all, and never were. In fact, they were dwellings of some kind, assorted Pokemon walking in and out of them. The young Swellow felt a large amount of unease in this strange place, though none of the inhabitants bothered her. She even spotted her worst enemy, a Sneasel, mingling with a group of other Pokemon. It barely acknowledged her, only glancing in her direction momentarily before continuing its conversation with its friends. This place certainly held an unnerving gathering of peace and unity.

“Is this Tao Village?” Cyclone quietly asked herself.

Cyclone locked eyes with a creature she didn't expect to meet; Sorbet. The terrifying, icy hell-beast towered above her. Memories of the dragon amidst the snowy blizzard, bathed in a red glow, roaring ferociously came back to her, along with that dreadful feeling of helplessness and fear. Cyclone crouched down, cowering.

“You do know it’sss not the real Sssorbet, right?”

An Ekans slithered past Cyclone, snickering. The Swellow hopped to her feet and glared at the dragon. Scrutinizing it, she could tell that it truly was fake, its lopsided body transparent. Water cascaded from its maw like crystal clear vomit. Truly a nauseating sight. Cyclone felt like regurgitating in response. A dubious thought came to the Swellow. She smiled.

I won’t lose my lunch over that thing, but I will let loose something else.

Cyclone swiftly hovered above the fountain, took aim, then dropped a healthy blob of guano directly onto fake-Sorbet’s head. Surely, proper vengeance for embarrassing her!

“Hey!” a bubbly voiced called from below. “You can’t do that!”

“Yeah!” another piped in.

Cyclone looked down. In the fountain at the base of the statue were two irate Magikarp. She rolled her eyes. Magikarp’s legacy of being the weakest creature ever to exist was world-famous, known even to her. Not wanting to be heckled by another fish today, especially one as pathetic as a Magikarp, Cyclone swooped down, clutching one of the Magikarp in her talons. She then flew upwards, the hapless fish flopping helplessly in her grasp.

“Ahh! Put me down!”

“Okay!”

Cyclone released her grip on the poor fish, sending it splashing into the fountain. She laughed. She hadn’t had this much fun since she was a young Taillow! She suddenly felt an unnerving presence, like she was being stalked by a predator. Cyclone spun around, ready to challenge whoever dared to spoil her fun. She froze in place, slowly flapping her wings just enough to stay airborn. A huge, no, massive bird leered at her, the sharp, blood-red plumage on its head casting a shadow over its narrowed eyes. Cyclone couldn’t pull away from its intense glare. She was reminded of the Staravia back in Creeping Forest but this creature was far more menacing.



As if the situation couldn’t get more alarming, a Patrat peered from behind the large bird’s neck. Its red and yellow eyes pulsed in a quick, sickening way, causing Cyclone’s vision to blur and swirl into a vortex of confusing colors. She felt herself falling, then large talons tightly gripping her wings.

So... this is how it ends...

Cyclone was never killed, of course. She felt herself continue to be carried, yet she couldn’t tell up from down, nor could she see her captors clearly. Their voices sounded distant and muffled. She could eventually tell she was in a dark place, inside one of those unsettling monster-shaped dwellings, no doubt. Finally she was left alone, though she still felt the presence of glaring eyes piercing her.

After what seemed like hours, Cyclone’s senses returned. Her side ached from laying down in an unnatural position. As her vision came into focus she saw that she was surrounded by solid black bars. A pair of glowing red and green eyes leered at her in the dark.



“Name and place of residence,” the owner of the striped eyes demanded gruffly.

“None of your business!”

The room suddenly shook. No, it wasn’t the room, it was the cage holding Cyclone shaking, struck by the interrogator.

“Name and place of residence.”

“Chi... Cyclone. Creeping Forest.” The authoritarian tone almost made her blurt out her birth name. She hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“Your real name.”

Cyclone sighed. “Chirpy.”

If Cyclone could see in the dark she would have witnessed the figure stifling a smile. “Miss Chirpy, today you were observed vandalizing village property and harassing one of its citizens. In these trying times, we, the Patrat Patrol, must increase security. We have zero tolerance for such a disturbance of the peace.”

“Disturb your peace?” Cyclone shouted, rattling her cage. “My little ‘disturbance’ doesn’t compare to the disaster your guys’ stupid, lumbering dragon caused the forest! It’s an absolute mess! I almost died! What the hell were you jerk-faces thinking?”

The room was suddenly bathed in bright daylight as a small creak was heard. The interrogator jumped. Taking a moment for her eyes to adjust, Cyclone could now see that he was a Watchog, though something about his fur coloring looked off. In the doorway stood the two Pokemon from earlier, the Patrat and the large grey bird with the permanent scowl.

“Always one for dramatics, eh Officer Vergil?” the Patrat chuckled.

The Watchog blinked blearily as he gazed at the newcomer. He composed himself and cleared his throat. “Welcome back, Officer Scout. What did the bosslady say?”

“She said, uh, to just to put the troublemaker to work.” The Patrat scratched the back of his head as he continued. “I was thinking on my way over here, with all of the new Pokemon moving in, maybe Archimedes could use some assistance at the Pidove Post?”

“Hm, she is a bird after all,” Vergil added.

“Wow, your brain is almost as brilliant as your stupid eyes,” Cyclone remarked. All three authoritarian Pokemon turned to Cyclone. Despite her predicament, Cyclone stood defiantly in her cage, chest puffed and crest raised.

“So we have ourselves a comedian, too,” said Vergil. Cyclone tried not to cower as the taller rodent approached her. He laid a paw on the cage door, flipped a hook, and the door swung open with a shrill creak. As Cyclone confidently strode out, Vergil turned to the larger grey bird. “Peep, please escort our young guest to Pidove Post.”

Finally released from her prison and brought back into the outdoors, Cyclone’s first instinct was to make a break for it. The presence of that monumental grey bird, Peep, was a blatant reminder that such an action was unwise. Suppressing her unease, Cyclone turned to him.

“So, Peep,” Cyclone said. “I guess we were both given embarrassing names, huh?”

Peep just glared at her silently. His intimidating gaze alone prevented Cyclone from daring to open her wings. What was with the denizens of Tao Village, anyway?

After a brief march, the two birds arrived at a dwelling modeled after a bird Cyclone recognized, a Pidove. Pidove Post. Clearly, Tao was bursting with creativity. Not surprisingly, they were greeted by a serious-looking Pidove.

In a low, grumbling voice, Peep explained to the Pidove, Archimedes, about the situation with Cyclone. He then left the two alone, taking to the skies. Archimedes sighed as he faced his new assistant.

“May as well get started right away, then. There are still families out there awaiting letters from their loved ones, not to mention the upcoming festival. Lower your head, please.”

“What? Why?”

Not waiting for her to obey, Archimedes gathered a canvas strap in his beak and tossed it around Cyclone, then hopped behind her, pulling it.

“Hey, what are you... ah, tight!”

Ignoring her anxious wing flapping, Archimedes gave a quick yank to the strap until he felt it was sufficiently secure around Cyclone’s chest. She shook the smaller bird off only to find her center of gravity had changed, causing her to topple forward.

“What are you doing, you obnoxious little pecker?!” Cyclone clumsily hopped to her feet only to fall back on her rump. This day just wouldn’t stop injuring the young Swellow’s ego.

“It’s your mail bag, Miss Chirpy. You cannot do your job without it. Now each letter, you see, is addressed with a seal. Its symbol...”

“What?! Stop! I didn’t... what the hell is going on?!” Cyclone flapped her wings furiously, only to hover in circles, her body tilting awkwardly.

“Calm down, the weight of the mail bag just takes a bit of getting used to. Dear lord.”

It was then that Cyclone noticed an oversized sack slumped on her front. She settled down and sighed in exasperation. “What am I doing, anyway?”

“As I tried to explain, Miss Chirpy, these are letters. People write in them, intending for their messages to reach others. Our jobs, as delivery birds, is to make sure that the recipient receives their letter. Seeing as how you’re probably illiterate, I’ll explain. The letters have pictures and digits on them, see?”



Archimedes held up a letter with his foot to Cyclone’s face. “Notice how this drawing looks like a picture of a person’s face? Yet this one has numbers, or symbols, I suppose you’d see them as. These markers match a place of residence. The pictured ones go to the buildings they appear as, while the numbered ones will be going to the new tenements that have been recently built.”

Cyclone’s eyes glazed over at these instructions. More than ever she wanted to go back to Creeping Forest, despite it being in ruins.

Archimedes scoffed. “Humph! I knew you couldn’t handle it! I’ll never find the help I need, and you have to find another way to be free to go back to your home!”

“Wait,” Cyclone said. “You mean if I do this work for you, I’ll be free?”

Archimedes’s chest puffed out in irritation. “Of course! God, you’re infuriatingly dense! You caused trouble in this village, which is a Bad Thing. You get punished, then must pay your dues through community service. After justice has been served, you may do as you please, assuming you have stopped causing trouble! Even a newly hatched chick could comprehend all of this information!”

Cyclone stood to her full height, craning her neck towards the smaller bird.

“Hey, I can bring some stupid little letters to a bunch of dinky little nests! AND, I won’t mess up, not once! I’ll deliver them fast, faster than you could ever do! Just watch!”

Cyclone shot out through the door of Pidove Post, only to, once again, fall flat. She squeezed her eyes shut, flapping in vain in the dust. A gentle, feathery touch on her head caught the furious bird’s attention. She stopped struggling and opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Archimedes’ yellow ones. His expression was soft, almost sympathetic.

“Chirpy,” he cooed.

“It’s Cyclone,” she sighed.

“Pardon me. Miss Cyclone, I know you’ve been through a lot. I can see it in you. I want you to excel at this job, and I want you to be free again. Please, Cyclone, allow me to take you under my wing.”

Just from hearing another mention her favored name, Cyclone was reminded of Songy. How was her sister doing anyway? Did she even make the migration all the way to warmer climes? Would Cyclone ever see her family again? A crushing loneliness suddenly weighed down on her like a heavy cloak. Cyclone’s vision became blurry and she trembled, trying to hold back tears.

“I see you may want to be alone,” Archimedes said. “I’ll be inside. When you’re ready, I will show you around the village and instruct you how to balance with the weight of the mail bag. Tao Village is not such a bad place. Things are just different from what you’re used to. You’ll be fine, Cyclone, you’re a strong bird.”

Once Archimedes was out of sight, Cyclone tread to the back of the Pidove Post. She lied down and, for the second time in her adult life, sobbed heavily. She felt like an absolute failure. A random, stupid act got her trapped in this bizarre place, with its strange rules. After she couldn’t squeeze out anymore tears, she just say motionless, head hung low. She noticed a huge, pink and yellow face staring at her from the distance, one of those abodes in the likeness of some mon.

“What are you looking at?” Cyclone sniffled. “Big, stupid face. Lots of stupid faces. I won’t let you losers keep me down.”

As if to prove a point, Cyclone scrambled up the side of the Pidove Post, half flying and half climbing. Once she made it to the top, she surveyed Tao Village with its gathering of towering, blank faces.

“I’m not letting you keep me down.” A shadow passed the roof of the post. Cyclone looked up, seeing Peep patrolling from the sky. “And I won’t let you keep me down either, you with your stupid-looking head feathers! I’ll show everyone here I’m not some weak, pathetic coward like the rest of you!”

“I see you are well, Miss Cyclone?”

Startled from her sudden company, Cyclone nearly lost her footing. Archimedes grasped the bag strap in his beak to prevent her from tumbling off the side of the hut.

“Ark... uh....” Cyclone stammered.

“It’s Archimedes. What do you say we have something to eat, and then I’ll show you a tour of Tao Village. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds great, but can you get this stupid thing off of me?”

Archimedes obliged, hopping behind Cyclone and loosening the strap. The bag fell with a slump. Cyclone breathed deeply and stretched her wings. Archimedes took the bag in his feet and glided to the doorway of the post. Taking one last look around Tao Village, with its goofy structures, Cyclone smirked, and then followed her new mentor. This community service was just one little setback. Cyclone knew, in her heart of hearts, that it was only a matter of time 'til she would be free to explore the lands, learn its mysteries, and face its challenges. The sky’s the limit.


The End

Spoiler: Closing Notes

So the purpose of writing this story, is that Cyclone was an NPC I made for PMD-Explorers. She was intended to assist the Rescuers Guild who, due to some issues with the real life mods, was underdoing some leadership issues. Someone suggested I make a backstory for Cyclone, so I did and had a lot of fun with it.
Cyclone never did make it as a Guild NPC, and the group eventually closed due to circumstances I won't repeat here (and I don't even have all the details anyway). Well, hope you enjoyed reading the adventures of this angry little bird!

 

[Negrek]

It's been great to see you posting stories recently, and I've been itching to check them out, since I remember your work from ages ago fondly. I know these stories are still relatively old, but they're new to me, and it was a lot of fun to see what you've been up to since the naughties. In this story in particular it was interesting to see a blend of what I remember as being your more naturalistic/animalistic take on pokémon with PMD, which is decidedly not.

I haven't seen many PMD stories that deal with "feral" pokémon as more than obstacles to be overcome or, sometimes, as secondary characters where they maybe act a little weird. It's a lot of fun to see a story focused on one of their lives and how different it is from the pokémon living in the village not far away. I enjoyed the casual grimness of the setting, where Cyclone's miffed that her sister's traumatized by that one time she nearly got eaten or where Cyclone herself thinks nothing of killing caterpie just for fun and even considers something more personlike like the rattata when she gets hungry enough. Kind of makes me wonder how places like the village managed to arise at all, where predators and prey seem totally chill with one another; definitely a stark contrast to life in the forest. I enjoyed the feeling of culture shock she has upon visiting Tao Village, and how she really isn't sold on it at first (or much at all by the time we reach this story's end). Little details like how confused she is by the pokémon-head buildings really drive home how bizarre towns would be to pokémon who'd been living a wild life, even though they're a part of the same world.

Cyclone's arrogant and headstrong attitude is a lot of fun. It's kind of interesting, since this is a backstory--normally you'd kind of expect to see her chilling out a little and maybe coming to understand other people more, but as this is really a prelude to what she'd be doing in the RP, I imagine most of the character development was supposed to come later. It's fun to see her cockiness routinely get her into trouble... but she almost always bounces right back. I also liked the contrast between her and the rest of her family. I wonder if there's often a similar sort of orneriness to pokémon who decide to leave the wild and join a rescue team or settle in the village--something that sets them apart from the pokémon who are happy to continue living in the wild.

Also, love the art! It's always fun when authors are able to illustrate their stories, and the pictures here are so lively and vibrant. Probably my favorites were the very first one with the sneasel, which has loads of energy in the sketchy lines that heighten the feel of danger, and the one with the aerodactyl, which such a lovely warm tone and excellent details and textures. It's obvious your art skills have leveled up a lot over the years!

Thanks for sharing this one, and although the RP it was written before isn't around anymore, I hope you enjoyed revisiting the character and giving the prose a fresh coat of paint.

 

[ShinyMachoke]

Oh man, thank you for the thorough comment! Yes, I was going through some older stories for inspiration/seeing what still held up. The fact that I don't cringe reading this one made it pass the test, lol (I refuse to read any of my stuff on ff.net).

It can be kind of interesting how different pmd group settings treat feral Pokemon. Some they don't exist, some they live more like nomadic tribes, others their brains are just wired differently and are unlikely to change, in at least one it's like they're diseased. I think a lot of those have really unfortunate connotations. I don't recall PMD-Explorers having feral Pokemon as biologically different, some Pokemon just live like wild animals but are still just as bit as sapient as "civilized" ones.

The thing you pointed out in the third paragraph, I never did notice that Cyclone doesn't really change by the end of the story (and why should she, she's perfect and great and everyone else is just too stupid to see, clearly). She gets helped by Jill the Aerodactyl, but is more confused than grateful. Since she was slated to be an assistant to the Rescuers Guild, she would eventually learn how to be more altruistic and a team player. I think the fact that it was written with the group and its events in mind is why it came so easily to me. Usually longer, chaptered stories are intimidating and then I eventually lose interest (coughGuiltyByDesigncough).

Once again, thank you for the comment. I am hoping to keep being inspired and actually writing something new (that's more substantial than a short, fluff fic, heh).