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Apocryphus; Manix - NC Free Form
Topic Started: Feb 15 2014, 09:52 AM (101 Views)
Maverick
Member Avatar
"How many assholes we got on this ship anyhow?"
Word Count: 6
191

Wanting: Male DrowzeeI guess level 5? And LP is good too.
Summery:
This takes place after Manix finally leaves Nottinghams cabin and introduces her to her second pokemon Apocryphus the drowzee. Hes a conniving old geezer that collects dreams. Manix is plagued by nightmares though, and these dreams reveal flashbacks of her life on Sordia. After getting a taste, he contrives a plot to string her along for awhile so he can add to his book of tasty stories.


A squat, hunched figure shambled through the dark wood. The broad face of a shining full moon broke through the skeletal branches of the forests winter canopy. Pale white light poured over the small figures rounded back. A wool cloak was draped over the wanderers shoulders, hiding his face in the loose folds of the garments hood. In one hand he carried a gnarled wooden staff, letting it bare part of his weight as he hobbled through the wood. In the other a round stone dangling from a string was held out before him like a lantern. The stone glowed brightly with the beings own mystical power. Over a slumping shoulder a simple woven satchel was slung. Inside were a black, leather bound book, a quill, and a bottle of ink.

This was Apocryphus, a legend in the forests outside of Deepwood. He walked the woods at night, alone - alone because most creatures avoided him. He was notorious for eating dreams, but only good ones, the sweeter the better. No one liked losing their good dreams to the ravenous Dream Eater. Parents told children stories about him to scare them into behaving.

Be good! Or The Dream Eater will come and steal your dreams. He will keep them forever in his black book, and youll know only nightmares!

Some of what was told about the wizened figure was true. Apocryphus did eat dreams, and he preferred to feast upon the carefree nocturnal meanderings of children. The magical being wasnt a monster though. Good dreams were always plenty where a cheerful heart was concerned. He was not a monster, nor was he as timeless as legends liked to tell. He was one of many. Apocryphus was a Drowzee and his kind found their daily sustenance in the whimsical nighttime fancies of those at rest. While a Drowzee never forgot a dream, Apocryphus was notorious for documenting his favorites in his Black Book of Dreams. It was a hobby collecting dreams.

Out of the darkness, light flickered. Heavily hooded, black eyes, narrowed with scrutiny, and then widened with pleasure. The light wavered between the trees and a wisp of black smoke wove through the naked limbs of the canopy to create a thin, dark line that faded into the deep, blue-black sky above. It was a small campfire, and campfires meant humans. Naturally, humans meant dreams. His nights meal was assured.

The cloaked creature hastened his heavy step. The tail of the cloak dragged over the dry, leaf strewn ground. The rustling, dry whisper that preceded his arrival was a trademark he took pride in. It added to his ethereal, otherworldly allure. He arrived at the camp minutes later, emerging slowly from the dark forest. The dim light of the dying fire, glowing orange, cast him in long dancing shadows that he imagined were intimidating. Firelight illuminated a squinting, grinning face, and an almost elephant like snout. This he used to sniff the campsite carefully. He shuddered with pleasure, knowing at once that two life forms slept here.

One was curled into a tight knot on the ground. Leaves had been gathered up and swept over the sleeping figures back. It was a curious means for a human to use. Most carried camping equipment, sleeping bags included. Only the lost and ignorant resorted to such simple, desperate measures. This did not bode well for a sweet tasting meal. The weary traveler was not likely to be having good dreams this night. Another shrewd study of the meager fire confirmed his suspicions. An experienced camper would have banked the fire, to keep the coals from going out before morning.

Apocryphus sighed, and checked the sky. A sea of twinkling stars swirled over head, led by the white disk slowly crawling toward the horizon. He could have watched the tranquil scene for hours, but if his prey was really having unsettled dreams, he would have to hurry, lest they wake up and find him there. The hunched form hurried over to the sleeping persons head and settled down. He chuckled lightly to himself, seeing the heap of leaves in front of him rise and fall with the sleepers steady breath. With the care of a parent, he gently swept away leaves to reveal the face of his dinner.

Apocryphus gasped, and scuttled back in surprise. What he had mistaken as human, was anything but. The thing in front of him was all teeth and horns. It had no eyes or lips. Even its skin was strange, reptilian by the looks of the tiny scales, but brilliantly colored vermillion. The slightly iridescent color danced in the firelight.

His abrupt movement caused the creature to stir. Muscles in its ugly face contracted and a moan escaped its clenched teeth. The Drowzee held his breath, waiting. It settled down and was still once more. He sighed and remembered there had been two signs of life. Again he swept away leaves and found the source. A tiny Larvesta was held snugly against the breast of the sleeping monster. This would be his appetizer.

Apocryphus knelt close to the baby insects face and inhaled deeply. The taste was at once sweet, overwhelmingly so, and his mouth watered as the warm, cozy sights of the young bugs dreams swirled across his vision. He saw the orange creature from the infants perspective. Always close, the creatures voice babbled to him, and feelings of comfort and love radiated from the frightening being. He experienced the kind of love only a mother could give and finished the undefined, but still delectable dream with residual feelings of security and trust.

The Dream Eater came to, and blinked curiously as he looked between the bug and the creature. With great care, he swept leaves back over of the baby, and moved onto the odd female it thought of as mother. He looked upon her with trepidation. It was like eating something new for the first time. The new food it might be mouthwatering, or it might make you vomit. A deep, steadying breath and he leaned over, inhaling slowly the exhaled breath of the monstrous dreamer.

A curious flavor filled his mouth. It was strong; tangy, salty, and savory all at once. His hunger ripened and he fell beyond the edges of the dream and tumbled into her world, headfirst.

Darkness folded over him. He became aware of strange sounds, like the chorus of a rainforest. One by one, pale lights blinked on in neon colors; red, green, blue, yellow, and orange. He saw towering shapes, like mushrooms. There were shelves of fungus growing on the sides of tree trunks. Most amazing was that all these things were gigantic! He felt as small as a mouse beneath their gilled awnings.

Movement drew his attention to the dark forest floor. The giant trees were imbedded in a river and a tangled network of huge roots coiled and twisted into a sheltering cage all around him. Roots became highways, and bridges. By the water, organic globes were suspended, and more ugly creatures like his dreamer walked to and fro under the light of a thousand, glowing green lamps. An entire city sprang from the one tree.

His view swept outward to take in more trees, more shelters, more strange lights against the dark, all reflecting in the black, chortling river that snaked like a silent predator beneath. Apocryphus looked up and saw pitch black. The odd glimmer of glowing fungus ended a few miles up, and beyond this, there was nothing. A starless sky was the only thing he could compare it to. This was the forest canopy too dense, and too far away to shed light on this isolated fantasy world.

He was brought to harsh reality by a barking, gruff voice nearby. Spinning about, he came face to face with one of those creatures. This one was male, and clad in little more than a loin cloth, and a rows of jangling jewelry. Fear filled emotions washed over him from the sleeper. She feared this black and white banded fiend, was repulsed by him, not because of who he was, but because he held higher status and had a right to tell her what to do. She had done nothing wrong, but it was his right to keep her kind in line. He could abuse whomever he wished.

Quailing before the snarling face and it twin rack of curling horns, Apocryphus found himself bowing deeply and backing away. Garbled words bubbled from his mouth profuse apologies. Hustling to be on his way, the figure continued to hound him, berate him. Its long fangs snapped irritatingly close, its fists cuffing him for not being quicker. Feelings of panic and rage mounted, peeked, and the sleeper neared awakening. Did briefly, but groggily fell under once more.

A new dream, this one was in a similar setting but inside one of the dwellings. He was seated on a cushion by a low stone table, listening to a scarlet scaled male and an emerald green female talk at him. They were lecturing, and feelings of shame and frustration permeated the dream. Apocryphus did not understand the argument, but sensed from his dreaming host that it had something to do with not being mated, and not having children. She was being compared to her sibling and felt mortified. These were her parents.

Again the dream shifted. Another dwelling, but this one was much larger. The sound of the river was louder here, as were the thrum of machinery, and the buzz of voices. A place of business was his conclusion. He pushed a cart loaded with cleaning supplies and followed his host through the dreary mechanical motions of a custodian. This was one of those dreadful dreams about work. Mindless mechanics where the main theme until the dream circled back again to the white banded Overseer. Once more Apocryphus was fleeing this person, desperately trying not to be seen.

The scenery changed and for a moment he thought he had woken up. He was in the Primeval forest and it was winter. He was cold, and the sun was so bright he couldnt see anything. He hid. Something was hunting him. Fear made his heart pound so hard it hurt. For an instant, he realized he had two hearts, but the curious observation was fleeting. A loud bang startled him and he jumped right out of the dream.

The squat, cloaked figure tumbled away from the sleeper. Bleary eyed, he looked up. The sun was rising, pink and red to the East. He tried to rise but a wave of nausea made him double over in pain. A night of nightmares was as nutritious as binging on junk food.

A sharp squeak bought him to his senses. His prey was awake, propped up on one elbow, and staring at him with its eyeless skull. Her claws were protectively wrapped around the baby insect, and a warning growl was rising in her throat.

Apocryphus, looking like a little old man swathed in moth eating cloth, held up one shaking hand to show he was harmless. For a moment he considered hypnotizing her, but wasnt sure if the trick would work.

Im not going to hurt you! he insisted, willing his thoughts onto the mind of the other.

The girl had never encountered a psychic, and the unwelcome words in her head frightened her. She recoiled, cried out, and clasped her head with both hands. The pained whine made the wizard realize his error, and he tried a different tactic. Apocryphus flooded her with emotions instead; feelings of calm, trust, and security - those things so recently felt by her own young charge.

The alien settled down, but still didnt know what was happening. In a confused trance she watched the thing in front of her. The cloak it wore hid most of its features, but the face was certainly not Oomon, and yet it had spoken. She was sure of it. Until that moment she was sure Oomons were the only intelligent life forms on Urt. This short creature, with its fuzzy yellow face, prehensile snout and tiny squinting eyes, proved all of that wrong.

Eghn vysk? she hissed over the smoking remains of the nights fire.

The psychic felt like he should know what the jumbled sounds meant, having so recently invaded her inner most thoughts. They were on the tip of his tongue, and like a fleeting dream, were gone again. He could sense the connotation behind the words though. She wanted to know who he was, or perhaps what he was.

The wizened old figure smiled grimly. He would take his time with this one and slowly eased himself down onto the ground, making himself comfortable. The sleep drunk female watched the creature stir the coals, blow on them, and feed it bits of fluff and tinder. What she had thought was cold and dead breathed again, glowing red, and sparking back to the life. In seconds the stranger had the fire going again. He smiled and worked his jaws while watching her. Words again filled her mind.

I am Apocryphus. He let the sentence settle into her thoughts, then sat back, and planted a paw on his chest. Apocryphus.

The word echoed like a memory. There had been no sound, but the word was there. The alien had never before experienced the curious sensation. Information fed directly to her brain. There was no describing it.

Ehpahcrrreefoos? she mimicked with a tilt of her head.

The Drowzee nodded, rewarding her with another grim smile. He pointed at her, and tilted his head, a gesture he felt she would understand more than the words that followed.

Who are you?

She had heard those sounds before. An Oomon by the name of Nottinkhum had used them. She had stayed with the creature for a time, and only recently left his care.

Hysk Manix. She replied.

Apocryphus shook his head, then corrected her. I am Manix. Say it.

More confusion, a whimper, and a foreign desire to repeat what squat being had said was impressed upon her will. She parroted back the variation of sounds uncertainly. This time he nodded. Manix suddenly sat up, surprised and excited. The creature was speaking Nottinkhums language. He was translating for her. The implication hit her like a slap in the face and questions tumbled through her mind too quickly for the ease dropping psychic to keep up with.

Another wave of tranquil, blissful emotion overwhelmed her. She felt calm again, almost sleepy, and slumped to ground. The creature pulled himself to his feet, and shuffled over to her. Her eyeless, lipless, fang filled mug, watched helplessly from the leaf strewn ground. Manix knew she should be afraid, but the natural emotion was being suppressed. Absently, she observed this Ehpahcrrreefoos sit down next to her, and indifferently allowed him to place a hand on her head. Why was she letting this happen? Something seemed wrong, but the more she tried to follow her instincts, the more the invading wall crushed her reaction to it.

The alien had been too easy to subdue, the Drowzee was quick to note. Obedience seemed to be bred into her, he sensed this from the echo of memory her nightmares had relived. Fighting back went against her training. Whatever she was, she expected to be dominated. He pitied her, but also saw potential. She was a walking meal, one he could program as he wished. All he had to do was rid her of the nightmares that plagued her. The concept was no different that catching a deer, and corn feeding it for a few weeks to sweeten the meat.

In this scenario, there was no catching, she was caught. It was keeping her on a leash that would prove challenging. He needed her to trust him, to believe she needed him, and the old magician knew exactly how to make it happen.

Manixs desire to learn about her surroundings, to learn how to communicate, was transparent from his recent exposure to her. Her thoughts were a chaotic kaliedscope of colors, sounds, and sensations. One thought prevailed though, one need, and it burned as brightly as the sun. That was the key. Be the teacher, be the friend. If need be, be the protector. She was as good as his, so long as he actually kept her away from humans.

Apocryphus knew this creature was ignorant about pokemon, in spite of the newborn she was protecting. She had none of the tools of a human trainer on her. She had no idea what a pokeball was. So long as he kept it that way, he had nothing to fear from her. The pokemon would make a pet of her, and fill his Black Books with stories of another world. His library would be unique, and the prestige this would bring was too tempting to ignore.

The strangers hand on her head was comforting. She wanted to sleep, in spite of having slept the night through. Her reasoning was intact, even if her emotions werent. Manix knew this was wrong. The creature was doing something to her, and she didnt like not being in control of her self.

Ehpahk? Sah. Egh'na sah? her own voice sounded like a distance whisper. There was no feeling behind it.

The Dream Eater chuckled, seeing that the alien was still trying to fight him. He patted her gently and shook his head.

Say it in English. He chided gently. Say, Please stop, Apoc, and I will stop. Go onPlease. Stop. Apoc.

A frustrating whine won over his artificial feelings of contentment, so he repeated himself again. Please. Stop. Apoc. Say it!

She flinched under his blazing glare and managed to mutter a fair slurring of the words. Manix felt him pat her on the head, and the pressure of the zombie-like brain fog eased up. Feeling heavy, she pulled away from him, reaching for her still sleeping baby moth. Only when the infant was in her arms did the sense that somehow shed been violated reach her. The creatures presence in her mind was still there, still suppressing her natural inclination to fear him, to run away.

You want to learn to speak. Apocryphus went on. I will teach you, but if youre to be my student. You must listen to me.

The girl didnt understand, but she would. Before the day was through, she would be afraid to leave him. He pointed to the back pack.

Eat. Youll need your strength for whats next, Manix. Eat.

She knew that word now too, or at least the motion he mimed along with it. Clumsily, she fished something out of the bag for herself, but tended to the larvae first. Rousing the foot long, furry insect, she coaxed her adopted child to nimble at some lettuce. Once awake, the bug ravenously gobbled at the offered meal, and the Drowzee took the opportunity to learn more.

Who is this? he pointed to the bug.

Manix looked up sharply, annoyed that the stranger would pay so much attention to what she considered her offspring. She growled at him until he repeated the sounds.

Hoo eez? she spat back. She understood now, and defiantly answered, Nema Lokn.

Good. Now say, This is Nema Lokn. the voice again corrected her.

Deez eez, Nema. Manix snorted, and then tore at some of the dried meat her Oomon friend had given her, before seeing her off.

Apocryphus was not intimidated by the show of fang. Patience was part of his character. His only reply was, Good. When the alien had eaten and drank, she began looking around the woods. Each glance was accompanied by an unsure glance at her strange company. She needed to find a bush but wasnt sure if the oppressive being would allow her to go out of sight.

Ehpahk. she spat at him. Vys tusehn soo cy domnsheh. The hooded figure shook his head. She tried again. Botrrroom?

He chuckled, the bubbly sound making the alien jump. She was getting used to hearing him make sounds where there were none. Hearing him actually make a sound was just creepy.

So you do know some English. I wonder who taught you that word? the ancient creature recalled the dream of her world and how her people dressed, or rather, didnt dress. Nudity didnt seem to bother them. The same one that gave you those clothes, and that food maybe? Why would this person turn you out on your own?

Manix was an enigma, and the Drowzee found himself enjoying the puzzle his new pet presented.

Never mind that now. he told her. She was starting to whine again. Go piss, Ill wait right here. Youll be back. He smiled knowingly. Making a teasing, shooing motion, he nodded and said, Go on, go use the botrrroom.

Still feeling heavy, Manix gathered up Nema and her backpack. She had no intention of returning. The creature made no move to stop her. She walked away, venturing into the wood and leaving the thing by the fire. The heavy feeling began to melt away. Her confidence grew and her gait hastened into a hurried walk, then a jog, and finally an outright sprint. Only when she felt she was far enough away from the wizard did she stop to catch her breath and actually look for a bush to use.

When she was finished, she chattered to her bug to calm her nerves, Come on, Nema. I think we lost it. We keep going West for now. Maybe well run into the Oomons. Im starting to think they might not be as scary as I thought. At least Nottinkhum didnt put words in my head or make me feelweird.

Nema squeaked for lack of anything else to say. She was still learning her adopted mothers language. At the moment, she didnt know any language. She was only a few days old. The baby watched her mother, and mimicked her, learning from her body language and tone for clues about her world.

The tired alien looked to the sky, seeking out the sun. Clouds had covered the sea of blue and hid the source of light that had been such a pain to contend with only a week before. Without the sun, she wasnt sure which way was west. Lack of choice meant any direction was better than going back the way she had come. Once more she started walking, trying very hard to put thoughts of Ehpoccrrreefoos, out of her mind.

The day passed, and a stream was found. She replenished her water supply and carried on until dark. Once more she made a fire and used leaves to cover herself and Nema. This time sleep was kept at bay by disturbing thoughts of her visitor and memories of the vivid dreams shed had the night before. Sleep would at last prevail though, as she knew it must after a long day of traveling through the chilly forest.

Almost immediately, images of fanciful thoughts flickered and flashed, pulsing to life, until substantial, stable scenery was erected around her. She was home again, and yet she wasnt. This was a path that led along the forest floor, away from the mangrove root city she called home. The hard packed earthen trail was paved with heavy stone slabs. A forest of emerald green mushrooms rose to either side. Their heavy heads swayed and leaned over the walkway, casting their comforting yellow light on the gray rock. This was the forbidden path, restricted to Upper Class and Middle Class only. She would be punished if anyone knew she was here, but she couldnt resist.

Manix was on her own time a few brief hours where sleep was allowed and socializing with kin was permissible. The girl used this time to keep to herself, to avoid others, and find peace in the solitude of the forest. The forest though, was a dangerous place. Her kind was among the smallest residents of her world. Its name flickered across her thoughts Sordia. It brought both comfort and dread. Home would always be home, and meant security. Home also meant lack of freedom except for secret moments like now. This was her adventure. She could explore and pretend to be something she wasnt. It was how she coped with her lot in life.

A noise frightened her into freezing. She looked around, and quickly dived off the path to hide behind the sturdy stems of fungi. One set of footsteps - claws striking the stone click-click-click. The sound grew louder and stopped mere feet away. Heavy breathing and an underlying rattling hiss sent chills down her spine. Manix didnt dare breathe. This was Ghorregh'tur'k, her tormentor.

Flashes of memory rose and fell like the sea. Once, this man had been like her Lower Class. He had fancied her, but she had refused him. On more than one occasion she had refused him. She would not mate a man she did not love and his coloring did not help. His light bands against dark scales reminded her too much of the trap door spiders she had seen from a distance. The hideous creatures stood taller than a man, and could move like lightning. They sent shivers down her spine, much the same way this man did. Ghorregh'tur'k did not love her. She was a pretty play thing, someone to tend his aging parents, and bare his children. She refused to be property.

Ghorregh'tur'k was a talented man though and his small family worked to his favor. His job had been repairing the machinery in the processing plant where they both worked. His skill was noticed by the Overseers, and his family, consisting of only himself, and his elderly parents, was raised to Middle Class. Now he was an Overseer, taking directions from the elusive Upper Class who ruled from seclusion, high in the trees.

He had reminded her once, after his change in status, of what she had lost. One last time he had offered to raise her status by taking her as his mate. This was done on a well populated lane, where others of her class could watch, appraise, and nod with approval. He wanted them to think him merciful and kind. She had still refused him, and that refusal had burned him more than any of the others. The crowd had gasped at her audacity. He had known how much she loathed her place in society. Her lot in life was a nightmare and she preferred it to him. Humiliated, he vowed to make her live with the decision and regret it every day for the rest of her life.

And he had, right up to the day she had vanished from Sordia without a trace. But that was another time and another place. She was home now, and he was here, a stones throw from her, breathing down her neck, looking for her.

I know youre there, Manix. I can smell your fear. He was practically purring with delight, and a whimper escaped her throat.

Swift as a striking adder, he whipped about, claws raking around the side of the fungus stem, and sinking into her shoulder. The scream that followed couldnt be helped. Blood poured from between his fingers, and ran in four bright streams down her chest. Roughly, she was pulled back onto the trail. She stumbled over the pavers and fell. Blood splashed in front of her and she was yanked back to her feet.

Lower Class bitch, youre not allowed outside of the city. What shall I do with you now, eh? his face was close to hers now, and she fought to look away. Whats the matter? Still too good for me? she cringed and cried out. Disgusted, he flung her to ground. Dont worry. I wouldnt dream of touching you now. Youre filth. Lower Class scum. I wouldnt foul myself with the likes of you.

His fist came down, connecting with her jaw, then the still bleeding shoulder. She curled into a tight knot, to ward off the beating. Another blow struck her back, a sharp kick to the ribs came next. Something snapped, and she couldnt keep from crying out. He stopped there, out of breath and feeling somewhat vindicated. When she didnt move, he reached down, grabbed her by the horns, and dragged her bodily back to town. Ghorregh'tur'k did not let go until she was at her door step, and there he dropped her, taking time to spit at her feet before walking off.

Nearly a dozen families had seen the spectacle. It would take mere minutes for word of her defiance to reach her parents. Shame, and an additional scolding would follow. In pain, and bloody, she clawed her way into her dwelling and lay there, not willing to move. In an hour, she would be expected to return to work, assume her second shift of the long Scavian work day. If she didnt show, he would seek her out again, and this time, drag her before the Counsel. That would disgrace her family more than the public cuffing had she couldnt allow it to happen. Reluctantly, she got to her feet, one hand clasping her side where the rib had cracked.

You dont have to do this, you know. a familiar voice stopped her.

She looked around, and on her sleeping platform, saw the curious figure of a tiny little man, wrapped in an old brown cloak.

You dont have to relive this. I can make it stop. The voice said, thought the creatures mouth never moved.

Who are you? she sputtered, having trouble breathing.

You know me. Say my name. Manix. You cant run from me any more than you could from him. Say my name.

Suddenly, like a revelation had hit, she knew. Without a doubt she knew she was dreaming, knew that the pain she felt wasnt real. All of this was a dream, a memory of that first beating so long ago. It was over and done with, and the hooded figure before her was .

Ehpoccrrreefoos?

Let me help you, Manix. I can teach you how to speak. I can show you how to survive on my world. He gestured around the dwelling. This place is gone. Ghorregh'tur'k is gone. He cant hurt you now. Let me protect you.

Youyou did something to me. I didnt like it. I dont want you doing that again! memories of the day before were overlapping the memory of the past she was standing in.

Calm down. Youll wake up if you get too excited. Calm down. Breathe deeply. He urged, and saw her trying. While youre here, we can understand each other, but our time is brief. I used the emotions of your own Larvesta to calm you and nothing more. Her sense of calm pacified your fear of me, and allowed us to talk. It wasnt enough though. I see that now. While were here, I can show you the meaning of my words, and I can see the meaning of yours. I cant do that while youre awake. Emotions and gestures are not enough. I need to show you. I need you to not be afraid of me.

She was nodding, Ok, fine. But what are you? I thought the Oomons were the dominant species.

The Dream Walker laughed. They like to think that too, but dont believe them. The ones you call Oomon are treacherous, selfish, and greedy. Its difficult to tell which ones have enough self control to rise above their nature.

And youre not? You just want to be my friend, and be helpful, just because? she sneered and shook her head, not daring to believe the load crap he was feeding her.

Nonsense, I have something to be gained from this. I am a Drowzee, a Pokemon like your Nema, but I survive by eating dreams. Let me feed off of your dreams, and I will be your teacher, your guardian. Consider it asymbiotic relationship.

I dont want to have these nightmares anymore. You can take them from me? The hint of hope in her voice brought a smile to the Pokemons round face.

I can do more than that. I can show you how to control them. Teach you how to make all the hurt, the hate, and the fear go away. You will dream only sweet things, things of your choosing.

Manix paced the room, still dripping very real looking blood all over a very real looking floor.

And youll show me how to survive on Urt, teach me how to communicate with the Oomons?

You have my word. His smile was gentle, patient, and too good to be true.

All of that, just to eat mydreams? she was skeptical, and had every right to be.

Dreams are my only nourishment. Without them, I would starve. I am old, Manix. I grow tired of hunting for dreamers each night. The people of this world, and even the Pokemon, all fear me. They are afraid if I eat their dreams, they will never have any more. There could be nothing further from the truth. Share your dreams with me, and you make an old mans golden years more comfortable. To me, this is well worth sharing a bit of knowledge with you.

She was still wary, but wanted desperately to believe him. The dream was slowly becoming less tangible. She was close to waking, and he needed her answer.

Alright. You can eat my dreams. But please, I dont want to feel like a zombie any more. Dont do thatweird thing again.

I dont think I will need to. Now listen closely, this is how well begin

Manix awoke not feeling rested at all. She stared blankly into the remains of her campfire, not really seeing it for a long while. He had told her to stay still, and carefully recall everything that had happened, and much of it as she could. He had advised her to write it down even, and thats when she remembered her gauntlet computer. She activated the device on her arm, careful not move too much, and began a recording of the nights events. New words in the Oomon language followed, and when she had recalled all she possibly could, a sense of accomplishment came over her.

Sitting up, she noticed the magician was once more in front of her, sitting cross legged and watching quietly. She knew his name was Apocryphus, but still couldnt pronounce it properly. By her side was Nema, still sleeping soundly.

Ehpahk? Did that really happen?

She wasnt speaking English, but he now understood the context of the few simple words.

Yes. It happened. Tomorrow, you will know more. In a few weeks, youll be able to understand me even.

The only words she picked up were yes, you, and understand. Still, this was more than she had left the Oomans house with, and she was pleased.

I need to find some more food soon, Ehpahk. How do I do this?

Again, he understood the general meaning and pointed at the sky where several black birds circled.

Youre kind isnt above eating carrion. We go look at what those birds are interested in. Something dead or dying will give you a meal. As for Nema -, He stood and hobbled over to the trees, tore some peeling bark off of one, and scraped the tender inner bark away. There are things she can eat, even in winter. I will show you along the way.

The girl understood little of what was said, but watched carefully as her teacher showed her how to scrape the inner bark and feed it to Nema. The sleepy bug didnt like the taste at first, but a second try changed her mind. The alien nodded, and smiled.

Apocryphus smiled smugly to himself. The game had been effortlessly played. She was stubborn, but smart enough to know when she didnt have a hand to play. Desperate hope made her easy to break. Like a fish on a line hed given her some slack, and slowly tired her out as he reeled her back in. The one she called an Overseer had made his task simple. He had left her vulnerable, and weak. She longed for kindness, and protection from the things she couldnt fend off herself. She was practically afraid of her own shadow and lacked all confidence in her own self worth. Gaining her trust was as painless as showing compassion.

The relationship would only last as long as it benefitted him. Once her dreams were no longer interesting to him, he would have no further use for her. He would leave. In the mean time, he had only to string her along with bits of the human language, and a gentle pat on the head when she did something right. It was more kindness than her life before Earth had ever offered. It was the simplest game he had ever played.
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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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Steel Cerberus
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Go for it, run towards it, dive in head first. Live life with no regrets!
*rubs nose* Haven't done this in a while.

Black Book, heh. I see what you did there.

You have this fabulous way of painting a picture. I'm sure you've been told that before, but that's always what I've noticed about you too. The beginning bit really shows this.

It was really the kind of work we all pretty much expect from you (pretty good).

Only one technical error I noticed:
"too quickly for the ease dropping psychic"
eavesdropping, my friend. I didn't notice any other errors, but this one made me come to a complete stop.

Um. Grading rubric, where is that.

Ah, here it is.

CREATIVITY (3.5)
Nothing super original or clever. What drowzee does is a game/lore-thing, but I did like the way you did it. And again, Black Book heh. It WAS interesting though. And I DID want to finish the thing, but my mind (and attention) kept wandering as I went through it. I don't know if it was because I'm doing this at 11pm or if it was... predictable? The concept itself I've seen enough that I knew what was going to happen, but the little side details of Apocryphus himself and seeing a bit more about Manix was nice.

BELIEVABILITY (4)
Apocryphus was lovely and I thought nicely characterized and developed as much as the length would allow. I've always thought Manix is lovely (I would have graded her first FF if it hadn't been both posted and graded while I was at work) and interesting. You stuck to the story, didn't jump around. It was a nice, compact little thing that didn't require me to stretch my brain, but I enjoyed the characters.

TECHNICAL PROWESS (3)
Nothing fantastic, nothing terrible. The one typo made me trip.

The comma made me miss the last three digits of your wordcount at first, but luckily it was in the post in the FF directory.

+7 words/summary
+15 for general descriptive niceness and ease of reading
+1 Black Book, heh.

6191/450=13.757~*10.5=145 (+23)

Drowzee is uncommon soooo.

+ 1 Drowzee, Level 5
+ 118 LP
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Maverick
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"How many assholes we got on this ship anyhow?"
Woo! Thank you. Don't forget your lp, I think its 3?
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Notes: Questing for Rayquaza
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Notes: Nothing yet!
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