AU Thread: Bullriding Blind People [Tempest]

[Devin]

OOC: Why is it so short??? It wouldn't be longer!!!!! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

So Nom, just reply to this whenever you feel like, ok?

This was not fun. Sure Devin liked camping, but usually he had some SUPPLIES like say a tent and matches and maybe even some FOOD? Of course he really couldn’t blame himself for being unprepared. Who walked around with a backpack full of supplies just in case the Gardevoir’s Teleport was waaaaaaaaay off target? As in a couple of hundred miles of target? Yeah. Nobody, that’s who. The Teleport was a simple one, just from a restaurant where Devin was meeting with his sister back to work at the Pits. But somewhere in there, in the blank nothingness of Teleport, something happened, a weird jerk and a shift and then Devin and Illusion were stumbling on a hard rocky ground very much unlike the smooth wood floor of the Pits. Of course, Devin had no idea where they were, and neither did Illusion or any of his other Pokemon. So Devin took the practical choice. He sent Zeph out flying with Illusion so that Illusion could Teleport them out of danger if danger reared it head at all. He stayed near where they landed and tried to put together a campsite while Cerb went to find food. Shade he kept in his Pokeball, right by his side, in case anything happened. Devin kept the Luxray inside his Pokeball because it really wasn’t wise to give up your last line of defense to casual observers. Keep them guessing until the very last minute.

So here Devin was, trying to scrape together a make shift camp site in the middle of no where, in an unfamiliar environment, tripping over everything while he tried to map out the area. He managed to cut some branches from the trees and weave them together to make a tiny shelter that would probably fit his head, but that was about it. Devin just hoped it wouldn’t start raining any time soon. He pulled his shirt closer. Stupid him for not wearing a jacket. Oh wait, he couldn’t wear his jacket. He didn’t want to remind Shey about the fact that he had been a Pravus member. And a pretty high-ranked one at that. It was bad enough to her that Devin had known that Shey was alive, yet hadn’t come and found her for a whole week after he found her. Man, his ears still hurt from that chewing out. And there was still that slight tone of betrayal and hurt in her voice whenever she talked to him. That was the worst part. Devin wanted to take away all that hurt and pain from Shey’s life, but it seemed like he could only keep adding to it.

Arg, he really didn’t need to be thinking these depressing thoughts now. Devin shook his head and wandered over to the stream to get some water. At least the stream was clean, that was one thing in Devin’s favor. He set his stick aside and bent down to get a drink of water.

[Tempest]

(Mines sucks more than yours does. xD )

The early morning sun brought with it a light, but wet breeze. The bull Pokemon woke, snuffling and snorting as he rose on all four powerful legs. His tails hung limp behind him for a minute, crimson colored tufts of fur a tad darker due to nights of pouring rain and early morning drizzles. The sun usually broke the spell of water that fell from the sky, and today was no exception; the bull woke to the smell of damp air, but felt the warmth of the sun checkered across his back.

He spent a few moments shaking off the early morning haze that fell over him. He breathed deeply and evenly, strangely calm. Most of his fur was tousled. The mane of red hair around his neck hung low down his chest, somehow bolder now that the light struck it. The blood red hue was a trademark, the attribute that made him, him. The wet season had given his fur a reason to grow a bit in an effort to keep out the rain. His fur was slightly tousled as a result.

At least when he woke up that morning, the usual routine of wandering the island and exploring the borders of his usual haunts was pointless. He’d done it late last night out of pure spite to the HootHoot and Croagunk clones; both had a tendency to be chatty and hang around the usual areas that he spent the night at. He was tired of telling them to be quiet when he needed the sleep after a long day of wandering and training. Chasing them off last night was the first real bit of amusement he’d had in a long time; it was also the first time that he woke up and thought that checking the island was not something that needed to be done.

In truth, he was getting awfully tired and agitated with the usual scenery. His faith in Mewtwo was waning, even if he would never admit that lack of confidence openly. He felt his respect fading away as well, especially so because Mewtwo seemed to have no notion of moving soon against the humans. The bull Pokemon needed excitement; he felt his blood boil not at the prospect of war, but at the prospect of going to bed every night knowing that he would wake up on this island with nothing to do. Clones after all, were more powerful then other Pokemon. They had a tendency to take care of themselves unless they were very young, and Mewtwo helped to control the environment of the island. The storm that swelled and raged outside the borders of the land mass and over the sea would never threaten the clones. The rains that passed over them were rarely dangerous, the winds rarely severe. When those storms came there was an excitement of course, but they would pass.
And he would feel caged.

Perhaps the first sign of his agitation and boredom was his lack of intolerance. He rarely lost his temper on his fellow clones anymore. Arguing was not as fulfilling as it used to be; the debates were fruitless. No matter what he said or what they did, it was always the same routine. Wake up, eat, train, sleep. Wake, eat, train, sleep. Repeat.

He didn’t even have the energy to hate it. It was just an annoying fact- hardly something to rage over internally. He wished he could voice those opinions, but that unfaithful voice in the back of his mind would snap at him viciously.

Incompetence is incompetence.

And he would snort and walk on, forcing the thoughts out of his head. There was this underlying assumption that he would die like this, having done nothing in his life hardly memorable.

At least for now he was free not to care anymore. He trudged on his usual path for a bit and grazed. He turned down a few paths he didn’t usually follow, rested for a bit and ignored the urge of training. He felt lazy for some reason, willing only to move around the area in a sort of half daze.

That was how he came across the human.

At first he stared from between a few trees, hooves stopping silently in the grass. He stared as if the dark haired human sauntering over towards the stream was another part of the norm. His tails swung back and forth, his eyes indifferent. But the longer he stood there and watched, the more wrong the image seemed. Fire laced the blood in his veins.

All the suppressed energy of rage, loathing and disgust resurfaced. A human was on the island. This island. His home.

As the emotions surfaced, his chest rose and fell violently, the muscles in his neck and body rippling. He shuddered once. And then he bellowed, throwing his body back and rearing into the air, swinging the pair of massive ebony horns back and forth. He stomped down as he fell back to all fours, his head drawing in low, horns pointed forward. And then he charged, full of rage.