Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Rally Interpretation	By : GreatMasterM Category: Pokemon > General Views: 2169 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Rally Interpretation
- 2-Neo Team Plasma, Team Snagem, Cipher, Team Flare
- 1
- 2
A/N: I decided I wanted another place to dump these chapters onto, see if anyone's interested in this style. This will actually be 4 chapters in one, since apparently the last chapter was 5 chapters in one. Lucky you! The gimmick is the same as always: this is in 2nd person POV, where YOU are the main character, as a grunt in the various evil teams in the Pokemon universe. Each chapter varies in rating, but the worst things to worry about are simply strong language and derogatory terms. I hope you like the chapters!
(Neo Team Plasma)

N is a fucking fool. He thinks that humans and Pokémon would be better off being completely separate from one another. That's like making sure the water and the earth never touch. However, you joined Team Plasma regardless. You're not sure why. Maybe you were simply bored. Or maybe you wanted to deprive some lazy fucks of their Pokémon that they rely too much on.

You were there when they raided the Nacrene City Museum and you provided time in Pinwheel Forest by stalling that brat from Nuvema Town. Much good that did. You were saddled with two retarded Patrats. No match against the brat's starting Pokémon they got from the bitch and the elemental monkey that they somehow got way before they entered Pinwheel Forest. One of your co-workers said some whore was just giving them away in the Dreamyard. By the time Plasma agents got to her, she had already given away all of her monkeys to ALL THREE OF THE DIPSHITS FROM NUVEMA TOWN! And worst of all, not only did the one brat manage to steal the Dragon's Skull away from Team Plasma, but it turns out the Dragon's Skull was NOT what Ghetsis thought it was and was completely goddamn worthless to the team! You got the wrath of the faggot gym leader and Mammy Jemima upon your head for nothing!

You were in Driftveil City and were captured by Clay. Your two pathetic Patrats were no match against his Excadrill. You had two of the brats to thank for causing enough commotion on the bridge to allow for your escape. You were still trapped within city limits, however, and beat a hasty retreat to the Cold Storage at the south part of the city. What a fucking goddamn brilliant plan that was. The brats still managed to track your ass down and you couldn't even fight back because your Pokémon were still goddamn unconscious. You could only watch as your teammates sent Patrat after fucking Patrat, Purrloin after motherfucking Purrloin against the brats, and have them trounced in one hit over and over. You remember thinking, "How does Ghetsis expect us to get anything done when he only gives us Patrats and Purrloins to fight with?" Of course, using Pokémon publically would be completely against what Team Plasma stood for, so all members had to abandon their already caught Pokémon when they joined. You had to get rid of several Pokémon when you joined. You guess that, in the back of your mind, you had been hoping to get more powerful Pokémon upon joining. But of course, if anyone saw Team Plasma members catching additional Pokémon, the public outcry would be catastrophic, so you were barred from catching anything remotely useful.

You were there at Dragonspiral Tower when that autistic retard, N, awoken the legendary dragon. This was perhaps the worst assignment of them all. Any assignment that involved you directly working with N was incredibly grating. If he wasn't Ghetsis' son and could easily convince your Patrats not to attack him, you'd have sicced them on him a long time ago. His longwinded speeches about Pokémon being his friends and how they'd be better off without human masters were like nails on a chalkboard. This retard is one of the Legendary Heroes? He gets to control one of the legendary dragons? He doesn't even WANT to command them! And by this point, your two Watchogs were no match against the brat's SIX Pokémon of varying types.

You remember seeing the legendary dragon being reborn and thinking only of what you would do with such power. Getting rid of N would probably be the first thing on the list, just to show him what Pokémon are supposed to be used for. Disposing of the brats would be next on the list. Hell, you might even have set it loose on your Watchogs, who have proven to be fucking useless every step of the way.

You were there at N's Castle when it rose up from the depths of the earth and connected itself to the Pokémon League Champion Hall. You had been working your Watchogs to death making sure that the castle was constructed on schedule. Even in non-battling endeavors, they proved to be useless. When you heard that the brat was making his way through the castle, before you could even join in the fight, one of the gym leaders quickly dispatched you and your Pokémon. Unfortunately, this time, they brought police, and you were arrested. At least they finally took the damn Watchogs off your hands. Later, in prison, you heard that both N and Ghetsis had been defeated by the brat, whom it turns out is the other Legendary Hero who wields a legendary dragon. Worse yet, N outright defected and made off to parts unknown with his unstoppable juggernaut.

For two years you stewed in your own anger in prison. You lost because you were weak. No, because your Pokémon were weak. And your enemies' Pokémon were strong. Your entire time spent as a member of Team Plasma just goes to show just how wrong N's philosophy was. You needed Pokémon, strong Pokémon, in order to get what you want. And what you wanted right now, was revenge. Revenge against the gym leaders that took you out. Revenge against the police that threw you into this rotting cell. Revenge against the little shit that repeatedly got in your way time and time again.

Imagine your surprise when, one day, one of the Seven Sages comes to your cell, saying that you're being released. What, is he working for the government now? Does he expect you to suddenly make nice with the bastards that left you here to rot? But no, Zinzolin has other plans. Ghetsis is back, forming a new Team Plasma, with Zinzolin heading recruitment for the team. You fight back the urge to spit in his face. What kind of a fool does he take you for? Who repeats the same thing over again and expects a different result?

But then Zinzolin informs you that there are going to be changes to the plan. For starters, the whole "liberate Pokémon" angle is being dropped completely. Everyone will know from sight that this new Team Plasma is not some Skitty-coddler, and that they should fear their very presence. No longer was the plan "win the hearts of the people and separate Pokémon from humans." It was now an open declaration of war against Unova, with the end goal no less than Unova's total submission to your rule. There is even talk about using a Pokémon whose power surpasses even that of the legendary dragons.

In addition, Ghetsis will be in charge much more directly. No more shadow puppets. No more double agendas, trying to fulfill both N's and Ghetsis' plans simultaneously. More interestingly, Ghetsis managed to use some connections with a company in Kanto to gain access to a large cache of sophisticated technology. The new Team Plasma won't be working with cuddles and words, but with weapons and cutting edge technology. He even brought on a brilliant scientist who believes in harnessing the raw power of Pokémon, not befriending them and segregating the black from the white.

So why you? Team Plasma had hundreds of members two years ago. As it turns out, Ghetsis is far more perceptive than you thought. He noticed your desire for power. He noted your repeated exposure to the brat from Nuvema Town. He saw the look in your eyes when you gazed upon the legendary dragon. He heard you berate your Patrats for being weak. He noticed that you were not like many of the Team Plasma grunts, who genuinely believed and followed N. You were to be selected for this new, more aggressive, Team Plasma. You would be allowed to make much more direct and pragmatic plays when dealing with the enemy. And what enemy could be a threat to you? N disappeared two years ago and rumor has it that the brat went looking for him and hasn't been seen since. The other brat is a new gym leader and school teacher, so he wouldn't have time to hunt you down.

You ask about the Pokémon you would be using. You note, rather venomously, that the whole idea is shot to shit if you can only use fucking Patrats and Purrloins. Zinzolin notes that since this new Team Plasma doesn't care about maintaining a friendly image towards the public, that you are free to use whatever you like. You already have plans on catching a few new Dark type Pokémon for your team. Looking around your cell, you know what your decision is.

"When do we start?"
__________________________________________________________________________________
(Team Snagem- Colosseum)

A man's gotta make a livin', ya know? Gotta make do with the hand yer dealt wit. Ain't yer fault you was born in the desert, no civilization fer miles, ain't no people around; worse, ain't no Pokemons around. Born in a world stuffed like an omelet with gods, and you had to be stuck in the one place where there ain't no thang. Even wit the Pokemons, the sun's been dyin' to make yer acquaintance all up and personal like, all the time it seems. You heard that there's trees out in the old folk's home and some planted trees out where the Mayor lives, but you ain't never reckon ever seein' real trees ever. You ain't never seen grass that Miltanks eat either. It's just sand. Lots and lots of sand.

Ain't no school near where you lived. Mama done taught you herself. Yer daddy ain't never there. He ain't never was there. You was the youngest child. Mama done got tired of teachin' after doin' it three times, so you ain't never got a proper education. Mama was constantly tired. She ain't never cared if you got out and played. Far as you can tell, yer only friends were the other kids in the neighborhood. Their mamas was tired, too. You all played and played 'til the sun done fried yer brains. Mama said that the sun would do that if you played under it fer too long. It'd fry yer little child brain.

Course, once you grew up, little kids play wasn't no fun anymore. Ain't nothing to do 'round town. Everybody knew everybody, and ain't nobody retire and stuff, so ain't no jobs fer you to be had. No job, no school, no Pokemons, no battlin', nothing to do. So you and yer friends just formed a gang and decided it'd be fun to go 'round causing some trouble and stuff. Yer mechanic friend managed to steal parts from the loco out-stop and made a real hovercycle out of it, which you used to get 'round. First you start stealin' some food, minor stuff. Then you started stealin' what you needed. Not long before you was stealin' whatever you wanted at the time. Ain't no one stops you. Ain't no po-po. All the po-po at the Scab, too busy dealin' with wannabe thugs in the Armpit. And they too stupid to even stop those guys.

Some people got angry. Some people did try to stop you. You fought back. You used a crowbar. Yer gang used whatever they had. Ain't no real weapons in the desert. Sooner or later, one of you starts to like the violence. Starts intimidatin' wherever they go. Even when you ain't doin' nothin'. Ain't no one in yer gang stop him. You got respect. People get outta yer way more when one of you is crazy.

However, with all the stealin', joyridin', fightin', drinkin', chasin', the fact of the matter is, you was bored. Everything gets borin' when you do it everyday. Ain't nothing new happens. Even yer crew, they ain't never change. Ain't nobody joins, ain't nobody leaves. Ain't never anything excitin' ever happens anymore.

Then one day you picked the wrong peeps to mess with. Some baldies come to yer turf, thinkin' they own the place, and you and yer gang come out to "greet" them. Yer crazy friend already has a lead pipe in hand. The baldies say Team Snagem's takin' over, and you can either join them, or join the dust. You thinkin' they outta their minds. Yer crazy friend takes a step forward. And then, the baldies take out their Pokeballs. EVERYONE knows what a Pokeball is. You all stop. They let out their Pokemons. One of them, a fire Pokemons you ain't never seen before, lets out a stream of fire and burns yer crazy friend's hand. He drops the pipe, grabs his burnt hand with his other hand, screams, and lets go. You ain't winnin' this fight.

Some of yer crew runs away. You ain't never see them again. But you, you ain't never been so excited. Finally, something interestin' was happenin'! You might even get a Pokemons! You couldn't sign up faster.

First they take you back to their base. You have to pledge loyalty to them just like any other gang. You meet the gang leader, a big, burly man named Gonzap, who had really noticeable eyebrows, who personally gives you the once over before allowin' you to join. They give you a red vest, a white undershirt, and a pair of work gloves. Then they shave yer head. They give you some weird head device that looks like headphones. You ask what they do. They tell you it's none of yer concern. Then they give you another Pokemons you ain't never seen before, say it's from some faraway place, way up north where it's cold. They say it's called a Sneasel. They say it can make ice and that it's a Dark type Pokemons, which is just perfect fer a gang like Team Snagem to have. They say it's been trained to attack people as well as Pokemons, and that you should use it to "battle" people just like you would a Pokemons. After all, how many people have Pokemons out here in the desert to begin with?

They say attackin' people will make them respect you. You want that. You're also just dying fer some action. Something different. Something exciting to happen fer once. You ain't never thought of fightin' people with Pokemons before. All the Pokemons battles you've seen on TV have been Pokemons-on-Pokemons. This new kind of fightin' invigorates you. Finally! Something new happenin'!

You are being summoned to the home base. Team Snagem is allegedly goin' to start workin' with some new gang. Everybody is to be there fer a team pep talk and gettin' acquainted with the new gang. Together, everybody will finally get the respect they deserve. More importantly, even more new changes are happenin' in yer life! You head back to home base, excited about how yer mundane life has changed so much in such a short amount of time.
__________________________________________________________________________________
As a fat man once said, technology is amazing. Science can work just as many miracles as any religion says it can. It wasn't by Arceus' hand that Pokémon were made to become savage and attack trainers by the orders of trainers. It was by man's hands. And though the public figurehead Evice was prevented from escaping arrest by Ho-oh five years ago, Ho-oh is still just a mortal being, not a deity like the Johto people are led to believe, and the Shadow Pokémon Plan itself was stopped by a man, not by Arceus' divine wrath.

It doesn't take a genius to see just how the dearth of Pokémon in this region simultaneously raises their value as a commodity. Nor is it rocket science that the police force around here is pitiful, which allows criminals to roam about, doing as they please, without comeuppance, which ALSO makes for a dangerous power play between any criminal organization that decides to try to take over the region. That Team Snagem and Cipher were able to work together during the first Shadow Pokémon Plan was, honestly, a miracle, though to be honest, you figured that the plan was always to betray Team Snagem after you had gained complete control of the region. It'd probably serve them right after that rogue agent of theirs went and caused so much trouble for everybody involved.

Ah yes, the first Shadow Pokémon Plan. You were defeated by the rogue, your Shadow Pokémon snagged, but because of the aforementioned pitiful police presence, you managed to avoid capture and went into hiding for five years.

A lot happened during those five years. You stayed close to other Cipher agents who managed to escape the long arm of the law. The "generals" of Cipher were captured five years ago, but some new, promising agents are rising in the ranks and may soon become the new generals themselves. One of them, Zook, shows a lot of promise, so long as he keeps anger in check. Word on the "street" is that Gorigan has muscled his way into a prominent position of power. If he thinks that his muscles and virtually miniscule lower body will be the deciding factor in a ferocious Pokémon battle, than you think that his reign of primate terror will be an extremely short-lived one.

All 48 of the Shadow Pokémon who's hearts were closed had been purified by the rogue, according to what your intel told you, including the legendary Johto Beasts. Curiously, not all of the 48 Shadow Pokémon have been accounted for by the intervening foreign government when it came time to return the Pokémon to their original trainers or re-release them into the wild (the wild outside Orre, to be exact). More specifically, four Pokémon have been unaccounted for. The identities of those four Pokémon vary between sources though, so it's impossible to tell which four Pokémon the rogue took for himself.

During those five years, you worked underground, helping to slowly rebuild Cipher from the ground up, without the assistance of Team Snagem. You stayed covert to avoid catching the eye of the rogue. You helped locate Citadark Isle for the new home base and helped to build the weather machine to keep passersby out. You suppressed rumors of Cipher's return circulating around the towns of Orre.

You've heard news from others about what's going on within Cipher. The new head scientist had made a breakthrough in the Shadow Pokémon creation process. The word is that she's created a process that results in a Shadow Pokémon that can't be purified. If true, then it was only a matter of time before Cipher made themselves known again.

And sure enough, you just read in the news about the S.S. Libra going missing in the middle of the sea. The ship was said to contain 79 Pokémon. In addition, word is that a few Legendary Pokémon had once again been captured and are being experimented on in order to turn them into powerful Shadow Pokémon. With the incurable Shadow process the new head scientist was perfecting applied to these powerful Pokémon, Cipher would become unstoppable. No "hero" was going to stop you this time.

Who would stop you, anyway? Sure, The Under was shut down to the public (which made for a great secret base), but otherwise, the law never cracked down on crime after the first Shadow Pokémon Plan. Pyrite Town's still corrupt as ever, with only two police officers patrolling it, and word is that that's the most tightly patrolled town in the region. Phenac City is still largely defenseless, with its resident guard dog, Duking, more interested in hunting down the recently discovered Poké Spots that have cropped up here and there throughout the region, and make a shilling off of the discovery with his name-brand Poké Snacks, than defending his city from the dark storm that's steadily approaching. Agate Town is an over-glorified senior center for worn-out has-beens.

You know that you will soon get your instructions. The true leader of Cipher, Master Greevil, will have a specific part for you to play in his grand scheme, and you will play the part perfectly. You have never seen the man before. You have never heard him speak. You don't even know if it is one man or many. You only know that he is indeed a man, and a magnificent one at that. The time for acting in the shadows will soon be over, and the time to take Orre by the throat will soon begin. The "Hero of Orre" is nowhere to be seen, and the presence of Ho-oh will soon be countered completely with a Legendary Pokémon of equal, or greater, strength working for your team. The law will not stop you. No citizen would be foolish enough to stand up to you. Team Snagem has been stamped out years ago and has not resurfaced since. All the variables in this takeover experiment are slanted towards your favor. You've even heard talk of the possibility of Cipher agents being able to wield more than one Shadow Pokémon at a time.

It will be by the minds of man that Orre will fall to Cipher. It will be by the surgically precise knife of science and technology that you will gut Orre for all its treasures, hold its civilians hostage for however long you see fit, and build an empire strong enough to go up against the bordering regions. There will be no god or guardian that will save the good when you declare war on the world with God's own tools, molded for your purposes.

All you have to do right now, is wait.
__________________________________________________________________________________
(Team Flare)

Well, now they've done it! You've spent days working on your masterpiece, and when you finally showed it off to the unwashed masses, they trashed it, said it lacked "originality," "vibrancy," and "structure." One critic even said it looked like "a Smeargle with a bad case of diarrhea." Well! One word to Mommy and Daddy and that critic won't ever find work in this city again!

How could they not see the beauty that you managed to encompass in an 8x8 inch frame? How could they not see the majesty? How could they all be so blind to the true message of the portrait? You thought you had shown your work to the highest elite, but it turns out that you had instead shown it to a bunch of filthy pigs who wouldn't know true art if it filled their troughs.

The world is filled with such beauty, beauty that only you can see. Nobody else can see the beauties of this world that you can see. Oh, you have tried to show people such beauties through your art, your paintings, your writings, your sculptures, but they always turn a blind eye to your musings, always dismiss them as "abstract" and "ugly."

"UGLY!" If there is one thing in this world you cannot stand more than the lowbrow common man class, it is ugliness! Of what use is there in ugliness' presence? It is an eyesore to your entire being and it must be to everyone else's! Ugliness has no place in your art. It has no place in your life. It must be removed, like a malicious tumor on the brain of a great artist, like Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo Da Vinci was one of your greatest inspirations, and you hope to be as great, and greater, than he was someday.

The thrashing you took for your latest beautiful piece of art has only cemented the fact in your brain that there has been a steady increase in the amount of ugliness in the world these days. Yes, looking around you now, you see the stagnation of ugliness everywhere. The house staff, the commoners, the phonies; you wonder how it could have gotten this bad without anyone realizing it? The thought of it drives you into a deep depression, the likes of which the world has never seen before. You wonder if maybe this will inspire a Blue Era in your art.

You leave the mansion and wander around Lumiose City to reconfirm your suspicions. The horrors that you saw were horrifying to believe. You saw rollerskaters performing obscene, fat tricks in the Vert Plaza without the grace or majesty you would incorporate if you were to debase yourself by performing such lowbrow entertainment for the masses. You saw chatty women chatting about insultingly stupid topics, topics that you would never conceive of communicating out loud to a respectable member of society, topics such as the fashions at the Santalune City Boutique, the latest PR video to come out, and the latest overwhelming victory achieved by this city's Gym Leader, Clemont. Worst of all, on South Boulevard, you saw a Furfrou prancing about, without any fancy trimmings or accessories on at all! You nearly fainted at the sight. If only you could simply pay for the ugliness to go away!

In your sad despair, you sought refuge at the only sane place within this city, the Flare Café. The only place that understands you. You find the opaque, magenta color scheme soothing to you. The clientele who frequent the Flare Café are of a much better quality than the dregs of society that you must interact with on a daily basis. They know of your pain. You frequently engage in long conversations with both the clientele and the staff of your most prestigious and frustrating life. They, too, have experienced the same pains as you have.

The owner of the café, Lysandre (he has repeatedly refused to give out his last name on multiple occasions when you asked), has been someone who has caught your eye long ago. No, not in a romantic way, though you could see the possibility in a faraway future, given how much you two agree about the importance of beauty in the world. No, what drew you to Lysandre was...well, actually, you suppose it was Lysandre that was drawn to you. It was Lysandre who first approached you. You admit, you were surprised someone as noble as Lysandre would approach you with such interests. You remember talking to a café socialite about the importance of beauty, both in your art and in the world, when Lysandre approached you. Even with your high social status, you knew that Lysandre was of a much higher social standing than you and your family were, so it still took you aback.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he had said.

You had replied with nothing, because you still weren't sure you were hallucinating all of this.

"I am sorry. I have not properly introduced myself. I am..."

"Lysandre!" you had interrupted. "You're Lysandre. You own this place. I've heard so many of your impassioned speeches."

He chuckled to himself.

"Hmhmhmm. Yes, I know. And I, too, have heard many of your soulful speeches, and I have grown very interested in your talks about the state of beauty in this world."

He had heard your speeches?! You were so embarrassed. You felt like a naked clown trying to please the Congress, and all you had was a perfectly functioning compass. Had you known that Lysandre was listening...

"I am very interested in talking with you further about the state of beauty in this world, and what we can do to ensure its continued survival."

The cliffhanger at the end of his sentence intrigued you, lured you in. You had not known that beauty could simply..."go away." For the next several months, you and he discussed at great length the status of beauty in this world, of the blight that is "ugliness," and what you could do to tip the scales in beauty's favor. You also discussed your profession as a master artist.

"You cannot get discouraged," he had said. "You know you are a great artist. You shouldn't let the lesser masses feed you lies designed to bring you down to their level. They're only jealous of your magnificence. They know they can never achieve such state of perfection that you can create with such ease. They will never paint a portrait so beautiful that it will make sweet Diantha's eyes weep with the most genuine, sad tears she can muster."

You remember Lysandre's eyes briefly lighting up once when you mentioned how well off your family was. You assumed he was just impressed.

It was today, then, that you were hoping that he would be managing the Flare Café. And indeed he was. He seemed pleased to see you. You talked his ear off about how the critics ravaged your art, talked about how unfair it was, talked about how wrong they were, talked about how you thought they were of a higher quality than that, talked about the growing wave of ugliness that is infecting the world, talked about how much importance you place on beauty. He seemed to hang on to every word; and yet, he also seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, barely in the realm of here and now. Suddenly, his eyes flickered back into life.

"The world does seem to be losing its luster for beauty, doesn't it?"

You agree wholeheartedly. You fail to not sound exactly like a gushing groupie, a term reserved exclusively for brain-dead lower class who can't think for themselves, agreeing with everything he was saying and saying "Yes!" like you were a newly discovered Pokémon.

"It's a crying shame, really. The world had such potential to be a garden of beauty, with humanity as its caretakers. Nature itself was a savant; goddesses attributed to Her. It was no coincidence that we humans inhabit the most beautiful planet in the solar system. Look outside."

You do. You can only see the immediate side of the next building over, no more than 5 feet away from Flare Café.

"Was that building really necessary? Do you even know what the name of that building is? Do you know how much of all the construction materials went into that building. All of which, of course, could've gone towards something better suited for the planet, something more beautiful. Don't you wish this view could be replaced with a picturesque skyscape?"

Not wanting to insult him further, you again nod and agree.

"And not just with that building, but with most of the buildings in this city. They should ALL BE TORN DOWN," he says, startling you with his sudden outburst.

He calms himself.

"I am sorry. My anger shouldn't be made with the buildings themselves. Like a painting that was shunned love, it was not the painting's fault its face was marred in such a way. It is the human artist who commits such atrocities. We as a species have turned our backs to beauty and embraced the wicked bosom of ugliness. We have been reprogrammed to love the perishable material and shun that which cannot be replaced."

He sighs.

"There are so few of us that understand this. So few who truly love the true beauty of the world. So few who recognize all the rot we are presented with daily. So few who can resist their allure."

"I do," you say, as if you needed reason to show him that you are one of those people.

He smiles.

"I know, my fellow beauty appreciator. I know. But there are so many who are not on our side, the right side. The side for beauty."

"We can change them," you say. It was the most brilliant idea you've ever had. "It'll be just like the legend of the Ancient War, with the king of Kalos' use of the ultimate weapon. He stopped the war from continuing by force. We can stop the war on beauty in much the same way! If only we had the power of the ultimate weapon..."

Lysandre looks quizzically at you at first, his wheels burning into a white-hot fire in his mind. Then his smile grew larger.

"I was thinking the exact same thing as you, my friend."

He clasps a strong hand on your shoulder and looks into your eyes with a fiery blaze.

"If you will accept, I have a very important mission for you."
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Rally Interpretation