They say a journey begins with a single step. In Frank’s case, by the time that person took that first step, he would be three miles ahead of him/her. Frank was tearing through the forest surrounding his former village, leaping from tree branch to tree branch and scaring the smaller Pokémon into the dense underbrush. He then thought he heard something behind him, turned to look, and saw nothing. He then looked forward and saw a large tree branch coming right at him. Even if he wanted to dodge it, he couldn’t. “Ah, crap” he thought, and closed his eyes. He felt the branch connect with his forehead, and did a backflip before crashing into the ground below. He then rolled a few times and came to a stop. Frank laid there for a moment, not because he was in pain, just that he was stunned. He sat up and felt his forehead. “Just some bruising”, he said. He then stood up, and resolved to take his time. He knew why Team Rocket had captured his brother: They were holding him hostage in order to try and force Frank to either leave them alone or surrender himself to be slaughtered. Frank stood where he was for a moment, trying to decide on a plan of action. After several minutes of thinking and throwing around of ideas, he couldn’t come up with a definitive plan. He decided that he would make plans as events happened; he was better at making up plans on the spot anyhow, so this would play his strengths. “Alright, first things first. I need to wash up.” Frank said aloud, looking down at his dirt and blood-stained outfit. He walked around until he found a stream, and began to undress himself. He always hated putting on the ceremonial outfit, but it was all he had to wear since all his normal clothes were destroyed. He took off the sash belt and undid the vambraces, then removed the tunic, cotton pants, gloves, socks and boots, leaving him in only his underwear. “Much better” he exclaimed as he stepped into the stream. The water was cold, which was no surprise since most of the streams in the area were mountain runoff. But it felt good and gave a refreshing jolt. He grabbed the tunic first and, using some soaproot he found growing on the bank, began vigorously scrubbing. He then proceeded to wash everything else, including the vambraces. As he was scrubbing the dirt off of the left brace, he saw the Brawler insignia on his right forearm. This insignia was given only to those who the king felt truly embraced the Brawler’s ways. It wasn’t filled in like Tommy’s medallion; it was an outline, the color of his skin filling in the blanks. The eyes of the skull were what caught Frank’s attention. They looked like they were peering right through him and into his soul, as if they were aware of his self-doubt and self-pity and reminding him of his Brawler teachings and what he was fighting for: Never back down, forge ahead until what needs to be done is done. Frank finished washing all his clothes, then proceeded to wash himself. His body was caked in dirt and sweat, and having a chance to get rid of it felt great. He then redressed, rationalizing that his clothes would dry as he moved. “All right, next thing to do is get some food and clothes. This isn’t an exactly an everyday outfit” Frank said. Stealing was out of the question; he wasn’t about to give up his morals, he wasn’t that desperate. That left two options: beg or work. His first plan was to wait three days until the tournament started, but he needed a backup plan in case that failed. With fifty thousand dollars, he could buy an entire wardrobe, but he wouldn’t. He got dressed and then started making his way to the nearby town, Khishkin.
He was walking along the path when he heard what sounded like a scream. He couldn’t make out what it was, but that didn’t matter. He ran in the direction where it originated, and as if to help him find the source, he heard the same scream again. The direction led into the thick, dense underbrush. Frank plowed his way through, and the he stumbled onto the edge of a small clearing. Two uniformed men were harassing what looked like a young woman. The larger man was grabbing the woman all over her body while the smaller one was holding her arms behind her back. Staying out of sight behind the trees, he moved along the edge to try and get a better view of the situation. Frank saw green skin, green hair that had grown enough to cover one eye, what looked like thick whiskers grew out of the sides of its face, a long flowing dress, and a red torso spike. “That’s not a human” Frank thought. Except for a few small differences, it had the body of a young woman. “Gardeeeeee!” he heard the creature emit another panicked scream. “What Pokémon is that?” Frank pondered, having never seen one like it before. Then, as if to answer Frank’s question, one of the men said, “Wow, this Gardevoir is beautiful.” He then grabbed her chest, groping her large bosom and adding “Look at how well developed she is. The boss will love this.” His partner, who held the Pokémon’s arms while the other inspected, added, “Too bad we didn’t have any Pokeballs; that would have made this simpler.” The first man smiled, “No big deal. It’s more fun this way anyhow.” He then bent over, put his face right in front of Gardevoir and asked “Isn’t that right my little beauty?” The Pokémon then spat in his face and kicked him in the shin. The first man howled in pain and held his leg in agony. Then after wiping his face, said, “You got a lot of nerve, brat.” Frank managed to catch a glimpse of a large red “R” on his shirt. “They’re with Team Rocket!” Frank thought, preparing his body to attack. The Pokémon tried to break her second captor’s grip, but he held on tight. The first man then punched her hard twice in the gut, causing her to let out a pained exhale and go limp. Frank decided that was enough, and leapt into action.
The man was winding up for another punch when he felt someone tap his shoulder. He looked back, said “Who the fu....?” and saw a large fist coming right at him. The fist connected with his jaw, shattering it and sending him flying into a tree. He hit the tree and sent splinters flying, leaving a small indentation as he fell in pain to the ground. When he hit the ground, he groaned and then passed out. The second man looked up and saw Frank. “Who are...” he said before he felt a hand clamp the nape of his shirt. The grip tightened, and he let go of the Gardevoir, who slumped to the ground. He then felt himself being lifted into the air, his feet dangling helplessly. The man looked down and saw steel-blue eyes looking up at him from under a hood. “Who are you?” he asked. “I’m the one asking the questions here” Frank responded coldly. He then asked, “What’s your name? What were you doing to this Pokémon? And be honest, or I’ll give you triple what I gave him”, pointing to the unconscious man laying about thirty feet from them. The man’s eyes widened in fear. He then said in a panicky tone, “Ok, ok, I’ll tell you, just don’t hurt me.” “That depends on your answer” was Frank’s response. The man he was holding gulped and said, “My name’s John. We were looking for Pokémon to give to our boss. To be used as maids and servants. See, we screwed up real bad and lost a huge shipment of Pokemon. We chose this one because our boss likes a little eye candy, and seeing as how human she looks, we thought it would be a nice present to him to get back in his good graces.” Franks grimaced in disgust, “It’s people like you that make me sick.” He then drove his fist as hard as he could into John’s gut and dropped him on the ground. John laid there in tremendous pain, then looked up at Frank and muttered stutteringly, “When we radio this in, you’re gonna be in some deep shit.” Frank held up two hand-held radios. “Gonna be difficult without these” he replied, crushing them both in his left hand and throwing the pieces in front of him. John stared in horror at the broken radios, knowing that now there was no way to contact for backup. John then looked and saw that Frank was holding a booted foot above his head. “Good night” Frank said venomously, and brought his foot down. He smashed John’s head, knocking him out. Frank then turned his attention to Gardevoir. She looked fine from the outside, but after feeling the area where the first man punched her, he discovered that she had a couple of broken ribs. “She does really look human” Frank observed. Except for a few small but obvious differences, she could easily pass for a human woman. Frank looked over her once more, but found nothing else wrong with her. “Gotta get her to a hospital” he said, carefully cradling her in one of his large arms. He then flung the two miscreants over his shoulder. With his cargo in hand, he quickly made his way to Khishkin.
Fri Aug 27, 2010 8:50 pm