HerSilverHammer
running with blood on me
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2009
- Messages
- 165
- Reaction score
- 2
But hey, I'm trying to find new creative outlets, so here's a little chunk of a story I've been tossing around in my head for the past ten minutes. Just sort of a generic "what's going on" with no action or anything.
The crowd went quiet.
The smoke was thick, no one could see the two young men at the end of the arena, and their respective companions in the middle of the large, square arena. "Oh, no..." Misty coughed out from the sidelines. "They'll be okay. They both end up okay, aleways." Brock replied, with a thick assured tone in his voice. People in the crowd were silently muttering to each other, nothing but questions and statements with nothing to back them up. "Who would have thought some little Pikachu could cause this sort of damage?" one onlooker spoke. The smoke began to clear. The figure of a person lay on the right side of the arena, with burns and rocks surrounding him. He was hunched in a matter that seemed as though he had something under him. The smoke was completely clear. A tall man, with high, red hair stood against a wall. He was hurt, with small splashes of his own blood pouring down his arms and chest. He stood firm, with his arms at his sides. Reaching for a Pokeball on his belt, he called out "We're done here Dragonite. Thank you." A red light beamed from his palm and the dragon vanished. Lance then ran across the field to the opposing force of a child. "Ash!", Misty called from the sideline. She ran out as well, even forgetting for just an instant the Togetic that floated beside her. A small crowd of familiar faces was soon gather around him, with Lance down on his knees, with his arms over the boy's shoulders. His close were tattered. His shirt and vest were completely gone, his pants tattered down to simply shorts. They weren't quite comfy, but looked easy to wear. His shoes were nearly completely red, stained from the blood. "Ash Ketchum, if you don't get up this instant, I'll..." the voice of his mom called out, trailing off in to sobs. Lance turned the boy over, laying him on his back. Though this proved to be difficult, as the boy's arms refused to budge. Held tight against the boy's chest was his best friend. This boy was no boy, but a young man. Everyone was silent. Misty fell to her knees. "Ash, Ash you idiot." He extended her arms and took Pikachu against her chest. Pikachu was warm. His ears twitched, just a bit. Then he let out a small cry. "Pika..." Pikachu forced himself out of Misty's arms. Her shirt was no longer pure yellow, but tinted with just a bit more red. Pikachu licked the young man's cheek. He young man let out a small cough, and opened his eyes, just a little. Just enough to look his best friend in the eye. "Pikachu... you did very well..." the boy squeeked out. "That battle was... that battle was our very best." Misty smiled, and sobbed just a bit. "I told you." Brock smirked as Lance helped him lift the young man on to his back. Misty leaned down and took the best friend in her arms, as they began walking away, towards the arena's healing center, the young man kept repeating three words, just under his breath. The young man spoke "the very best..."
The crowd went quiet.
The smoke was thick, no one could see the two young men at the end of the arena, and their respective companions in the middle of the large, square arena. "Oh, no..." Misty coughed out from the sidelines. "They'll be okay. They both end up okay, aleways." Brock replied, with a thick assured tone in his voice. People in the crowd were silently muttering to each other, nothing but questions and statements with nothing to back them up. "Who would have thought some little Pikachu could cause this sort of damage?" one onlooker spoke. The smoke began to clear. The figure of a person lay on the right side of the arena, with burns and rocks surrounding him. He was hunched in a matter that seemed as though he had something under him. The smoke was completely clear. A tall man, with high, red hair stood against a wall. He was hurt, with small splashes of his own blood pouring down his arms and chest. He stood firm, with his arms at his sides. Reaching for a Pokeball on his belt, he called out "We're done here Dragonite. Thank you." A red light beamed from his palm and the dragon vanished. Lance then ran across the field to the opposing force of a child. "Ash!", Misty called from the sideline. She ran out as well, even forgetting for just an instant the Togetic that floated beside her. A small crowd of familiar faces was soon gather around him, with Lance down on his knees, with his arms over the boy's shoulders. His close were tattered. His shirt and vest were completely gone, his pants tattered down to simply shorts. They weren't quite comfy, but looked easy to wear. His shoes were nearly completely red, stained from the blood. "Ash Ketchum, if you don't get up this instant, I'll..." the voice of his mom called out, trailing off in to sobs. Lance turned the boy over, laying him on his back. Though this proved to be difficult, as the boy's arms refused to budge. Held tight against the boy's chest was his best friend. This boy was no boy, but a young man. Everyone was silent. Misty fell to her knees. "Ash, Ash you idiot." He extended her arms and took Pikachu against her chest. Pikachu was warm. His ears twitched, just a bit. Then he let out a small cry. "Pika..." Pikachu forced himself out of Misty's arms. Her shirt was no longer pure yellow, but tinted with just a bit more red. Pikachu licked the young man's cheek. He young man let out a small cough, and opened his eyes, just a little. Just enough to look his best friend in the eye. "Pikachu... you did very well..." the boy squeeked out. "That battle was... that battle was our very best." Misty smiled, and sobbed just a bit. "I told you." Brock smirked as Lance helped him lift the young man on to his back. Misty leaned down and took the best friend in her arms, as they began walking away, towards the arena's healing center, the young man kept repeating three words, just under his breath. The young man spoke "the very best..."
