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|Muddy Struggles and Weighty Burdens; A Personal Story Thread|
|Topic Started: Dec 14 2010, 06:46 PM (158 Views)|
|Iydallus||Dec 14 2010, 06:46 PM Post #1|
The stony paths of the Third National Route of Kanto, or Route Three, as it was colloquially known, were largely silent today. There were no Pokémon trainers looking eagerly for new opponents or creatures to add to their teams, no travelers walking the eroded path toward Mount Moon. There were practically no native creatures stirring, most preferring to remain in their warrens and hideaways. Here and there one might see a particularly intrepid specimen roving about, a Pidgey fidgeting in its nest or the telltale rustle of an Oddish settling deeper into its temporary burrow. If it wasn't for these small signs of life, one could hardly tell that this was one of the more frequented roads of the Kanto region, usually choked with people both Trainer and tourist heading to or from the mountain.
The reason for all of this, of course, was the weather. Today was positively miserable. Since the earliest hints of dawn, a torrential rain had been beating down, mercilessly soaking the slopes and making an already difficult trail a horror for all but the stoutest of travelers. The road was now slick with mud and moving soil, and small and sometimes not-so-small rivulets of flowing water. There was even a Slowpoke flopping about in a rather large mud-puddle, a pleasantly stupid expression on its face as it aimlessly flailed and threw mud around itself. Slowpokes, as the name implied, weren't the fastest ducks on the pond, and this one seemed to care little as it was suddenly immersed in a small cascade of sliding mud.
For the unfortunate creature scooting from cover to cover, the rain was truly a curse. Small and stubby in just about all respects, Aron were armored animals that were considered Steel and Rock type in the elemental classification system. Unfortunately for them, this made them very heavy, and therefore very leery of water deeper than a few inches. Their heads sit about a foot off the ground and can't be moved very far, so a puddle of eight inches was a worrisome trial. Today was the worst kind of day for him.
This was not the case for the figure that moved methodically down the muddy road behind the Aron. The young man strode with practiced ease through the muck, stepping on stones where he could and jumping over excessive mudpits and streams. His pants tucked tightly into his hiking boots, he vaulted over a burbling stream of slime and landed about twenty feet from the hiding place of the little armored Pokémon. His hood was drawn over his head, the skull printed on the top giving him a macabre suggestion of death as he slowly craned his head from right to left. A glint of silver in the muck gave the Aron away, but it didn't seem to be aware of that fact as the figure feigned frustration and began walking past the bedraggled shrub where the animal had taken cover.
At a pace beyond it, the young man turned with a speed that stunned Aron and launched itself on top of the little creature, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth shell. When that didn't work, he simply folded his body around the Pokémon and smothered it with his far greater size. Aron, once it got over its surprise, didn't approve of that action one bit and let the boy know with a sharp cry and a monstrously powerful (for its size, anyway) butt to his captor's stomach that winded him and nearly caused him to lose his hold. So, it did the next logical thing: It thrashed wildly under his opponent, battering the arms, chest, and stomach of the young man, trying desperately to get its enemy to let go. His attacker, however, did not relinquish his hold, instead clenching the struggling creature even tighter to constrict its movements.
It was a haze of mud, gravel, and water as the pair grappled messily on the rainslicked road to the mountain. For a full ten minutes, the straining of the creature continued until it finally ran out of energy. It began to slump, exhausted as the last of its strength was spent. The man, too, was tired, but far less so than his victim. He stood, painfully allowing his muscles to stretch from their positions. As he rose, he lifted the tired little Aron with him, cradling it in his arms like a child, for it was indeed barely more than an infant. Despite that, it was tremendously heavy. While it was smaller than average, and therefore weighed somewhat less than other examples of its species, it was still quite solid. The hooded figure estimated that it must have clocked in at least one-hundred pounds.
Shifting the weight of his small but weighty burden, he began the long march back to the city.
|Iydallus||Jan 4 2011, 06:10 PM Post #2|
An hour and two more subduing sessions later, and the young man was bone tired and aching all over his body. His small charge, despite its youth and diminutive stature, was quite powerful and more than capable of breaking bones and severing limbs if it wasn't handled properly. Part of this came from its sturdy design; made to survive cave-ins, landslides, and other unpleasant earthly phenomena, Aron and its mature stages were built to last and weather such events. The steely shell that covered them was proof of this. Naturally, it gave them an edge when facing off against other beasts for territory, mates, food, etc. The young man recalled these things with clarity, and resolved anew to complete his task.
As he began entering the outskirts of Pewter City, he began to draw stares, his mud-caked clothing and occasionally moving armload making for an unusual sight. Thankfully, the rain was falling harder now, and was beginning to wash away some of the dirt and grime that clung to his jacket and pants and the smooth silver armor adorning the Aron's body. One particularly intrepid young girl peeked out from beneath her umbrella and queried,
"Whatcha carryin', mister?" The young man slowly turned to face her, his eyes obscured by his drooping, soaked hood. Ever so slightly, he inclined his arms to face her (it was painful to do any more than that) and replied,
With that, he continued trudging down the street, carefully stepping around passersby on the sidewalk and keeping the irate creature's head from nearing a potential biting target. As he walked past the small industrial district of the city, he noted that the scrapyard was still working, taking excess metal and melting it down into something usable (or at least easily stored). Trainers would often bring the shedding from Steel-class Pokémon to the yard, where the excess material could be reforged into a new, freshly made part of another product. Still, it was strange that the yard was working today. With this rain, surely they were having trouble safely moving the metal around?
The young man mentally shrugged, deciding that it wasn't his problem.
Continuing his march, he strode past a used car dealership, noting that it, too, was still open for business. Why would anybody be looking for a car today? That was just silly. Shaking his head, the young man froze in his tracks when he noticed his ward moving in his arms. Once again, it began struggling, trying in vain to escape his grasp. He threw himself to the ground, wrapping himself around the thrashing Aron, feeling the angry animal's blows deep in his bones. Two...perhaps three minutes of struggling, and the creature was spent again. This time, the young man hesitated to rise. He, too, was almost completely out of energy. He hadn't anticipated this creature's endurance, and was now paying for his arrogance.
He sighed heavily, gathering his strength. Just as he prepared to move, he heard a shuffling noise directly in front of him. He peered forward and he beheld a small silver key, dangling on a fine chain.
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