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Born
Topic Started: Aug 29 2010, 01:49 PM (362 Views)
Fordy
Member Avatar
ain't no new thing
He opened his eyes, slowly. He drew his first breath.

The darkness was drowned as light seeped through the widening cracks. The walls of the dam crumbled and all he saw was bright light. A grunt escaped his lips. Inhaled. Warm, fresh air.

He blinked. His eyes adjusted. He sucked in another breath, as if he might run out.

He sat up sharply, and wondered, Who am I? And then, What is a who? He looked down at himself, and found he was cloaked in a soft, golden cloth. He rubbed his head, and it was bare. He was shoeless. Words came to him as he looked around. "Grass". "Hill". They had meaning, he knew it, but it was vague and seemed just out of reach.

He thought just about words for a while. Each was like a painting in progress, and he slowly added more strokes. Outlines at first. This is grass. This is a hill. Then details. A plant. Plants grow. A gentle slope in the ground.

When he was confident he had figured out what words were, he returned to that first question. Who am I? No amount of meditation elucidated this point.

He looked around him, investigating his only course of action, and searched himself to see what he had. He found a pocket in the clothes, really just a pouch sewn into the fabric. From within it he produced a small square of paper. Typed in a simple font on plain white, it read:

Labib Hassan
Qiyamat


He read it several times, holding it up right in front of his face. He rubbed it against his cheek, feeling how soft it was, how smooth. He placed in deliberately back in the pouch, careful not to bend it and mar its beautiful face. His only lifeline, his link to the world. It must be his name, who he was. The words seemed foreign, he longed to know what they meant. For another time.

The pocket yielded no further secrets, so he searched his immediate area, sitting cross-legged and leaning around to look. Behind him he found a single red-and-white orb. He picked it up, examining it like he did the card. Slick metal, warm and sun-baked. He rubbed it too against his face, and his mind produced the word "Pokeball", and then, "Pokemon". He studied it, and found the small circle in the front was raised slightly from the rest of the ball. He depressed it without a moment's hesitation, and it burst in a dazzling white light, sending him falling onto his back and blinking his watering eyes.

Something solid landed on his chest. It moved. He could hear it breathing. He hardly dared to sit up, and feared to even open his eyes. He was very much every child when the adults were yelling.

His eyes were forced open when whatever it was bounced on his chest. He gasped and was winded, sat up once more clutching his chest. The thing, wide-eyed and surprised, landed in the grass and squeaked. Breathing restored, he surveyed the creature. Gray, except for a large pink orb on its head, a coiled tail beneath it instead of legs. It looked up at him curiously.

He felt something in his throat. His mouth opened, and formed words. Everything was a discovery, every sound and every sight. These sounds, these were those same words, but audible.

Who're you? He asked.

The creature, the Pokemon, it bounced up and down, waving stubby arms. Spoink!

He, Labib, embraced it as a teddy bear, holding it close. We will be friends!

Spoink!

He stood, stowing the Pokeball away. Where he was going, he didn't know, and he didn't care. He sat the Spoink on his shoulder, and took his first step, slowly.



Wherever you want in the Grasslands. Headed in any direction.

TEAM:
:spoink :fl
Lv. 30
541 :lp
oh! sweet nuthin'
APL: 5
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Blake Kinlion
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Same taste you love, 0% Trans fat!
.3 :gexp2

Labib walked, and each experience tickled his seemingly omniscient brain as he recalled these aspects of life. Wind blew past his face and ears, which was accompanied by the aromas of fresh air, packed soil, and running water. The small tendrils of grass, called blades, brushed past his toes lightly and effortlessly, as if he were walking on a cloud.

There were clouds that hung in the air like impossibly big marionettes and formed effigies of things Labib could only just recognize. He understood that it was a beautiful, well-weathered day. Sunbeams shone through the leaves of lone, aged trees; those tiny green hands glittered as light passed their fingers.

Sounds, too, were prevalent, commanding the air as it's lawful dictator. Birds in trees and the wind howling over the whispering grass. Labib soaked up every last, quietest noise for the curiosity was growing unbearable.

Just ahead, there was a big body of shimmering, jostling material. Water. It bubbled along with the wind, creating a harmonic rhythm that accompanied every other sound that floated past Labib's ears. At the edge of the pond, Labib could peer over into the water and see his reflection.
The RecklessThe Sitch | APL: 41.666Knowledge | APL: 8The Hopeless
Leslie Shallows
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49 :fs
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Pokemon; Location; GenExp
Rattata | "Blade" | Level 41
Exeggutor | "Belmont" | Level 41
Seaking | "Echo" | 43
Current Location: Tromante Tropical Forest
Current Destination: Hillmoss Grasslands
Freeform 1 | Freeform 2
RP GenExp: 7.2
Freeform Exp: 0.0
Pokemon; Location; GenExp
Unown K | Level 10
Unown G | Level 7
Unown F | Level 7
Current Location: Moorfeldt Grasslands
Current Destination: Nowhere Yet
RP GenExp: 2.8
Freeform Exp: 0.0
Kagami Seraphina
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18 :fs
Posted Image Posted Image Posted Image
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Fordy
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ain't no new thing
.3

Wonderful. Simply wonderful. All of this... nature? He felt so at home here, where he woke up, and then here, by the... river. The wind, dancing around his shaved head. The trees. The rocks. The grass. He sat down at the edge of the water, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. He was thirsty.

He opened his eyes and leaned over the ledge, reaching out a hand to get a handful of the cool water. His eyes met his reflection's, and suddenly he felt lightheaded.

He couldn't breathe. He was desperate for air. He thrashed about but the hands on his shoulders were just too strong, gripping him too tight. The face, distorted by water wasn't his anymore but was some other man's. Darkness creeped in at the edges of his vision, and just when he was consigned to it, just when he had given up, there was cold air on his face and someone slapped him and yelled at him. "This is your last fucking chance, you piece of shit." He sucked in air like it was the last chance he had to, it just might be.

Over the man's shoulder, a sign was just barely illuminated. Felcrest Docks. Then he was back under, and everything went black.



He opened his eyes, slowly. He was laying on his stomach, a single hand adrift in the river current. Something was hopping angrily on his back.

"Spoooink!" It cried desperately. He grumbled and turned over, and felt so completely lost for the second time in an hour. What were these sounds, words? This creature? But it came back faster now. And there was something new.

"Felcrest." This word seemed natural on his lips, but its meaning seemed out of his grasp. He stood up feverishly and looked down at the Spoink. "Felcrest. What is it?" The psychic pig seemed to be inside his head. He knew immediately. Felcrest was a city. It was this way. It was strange communicating through knowledge and feelings, but it was better than trying to decipher frantic snorts. "Come on, we've got to go, now."

Urgency was a new feeling, too.

He jumped into the river and forced his way through to the other side, and clambered into the sun-warmed grass. No time to stop and lay in it this time. He felt shivery, but it only fueled his new resolve.

Breaking into a sprint, he charged through the grasslands.



Riverside 1, through Grasslands 4.
541 :lp
oh! sweet nuthin'
APL: 5
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Maverick
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"How many assholes we got on this ship anyhow?"
.3

Labib ran through the grass, feeling the weight of his water laden clothes pulling him down. As he ran though, the sun slowly dried him. Spoink bounced along behind, furiously trying to keep up. The pig took pause, feeling the flicker of consciousness on the outskirts of his own psychic perimeter. His eyes looked ahead and off to the right, catching the slightest of movements of something crouched low in the grass. It was a feline of sorts, and though young, could still be dangerous to the human, perhaps more so if there were others beyond the field of his psychic net.

Spoink squealed an alarm to Labib and the creature, knowing his game was up, raced forward and pounced with snarling yowl...

:shinx :lvl 30 :ml :hp 90/90
Ability: Intimidate
~Pouncing Labib~

[You've also reached the next landmark.]
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Floyd's Profile
Level: 75
Notes: Questing for Rayquaza
Affiliation: None

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Manix's Profile
Level: 32
Notes: Nothing yet!
Affiliation: None
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Fordy
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ain't no new thing
I'll move this to the Grasslands. .2
541 :lp
oh! sweet nuthin'
APL: 5
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