Greyfox
24th January 2006, 06:22 PM
So I've decided to cancel my previous works because... I hated them. Anyway, during the time where I had no Internet access, I decided to poké-modify one of my existing novellas into the following. I'm not sure if I should continue writing it, so I decided to preview it for those out there to critique.
Oh yeah, I also feel it necessary to expose my true identity. For those of you who thought I was actually named "Grey", dot-dot-dot. However, for those of you who knew me as "A. J. Hawthorne", haha! That's just a pen name. My real name is "Andrew Neff", however, because there's already an Andrew here... feel free to keep calling me Grey or Drew or whatever the hell you want. But anyway... without further stalling for time, I give you... The Academy.
_________________________________________________
THE ACADEMY
Super Duper Preview Addition
written by andrew j. neff
“I choose Golduck!”
I tossed the blue-shaded Poké Ball to the grassy fields below. Currently, I was battling against some big shot trainer from a greater city. He looked familiar for some reason, but I didn’t care enough to think about who he was. His face featured a certain arrogance that was only complimented by his large ego.
I watched as the trainer, whose name I never collected, tossed his Poké Ball to the ground in a similar motion; “You’re up, Cacturne!”
I figured as much. A trainer with this kind of attitude couldn’t rely on his own talents to win battles. It would appear that he won all his battles by elemental advantage—it looked like now would be the best time to shoot down his overconfidence.
The two Pokémon were released from their Poké Balls; I watched as each of them stared one another down. No doubt they were waiting for us to call out our attacks. Cacturne had the characteristics of both grass and dark elements, meaning that my golduck’s psychosis would be ineffective. Despite all this, I wasn’t worried. With a smirk on my face, I eagerly awaited my opponent’s first move.
“Let’s go, Cacturne! Use your Solarbeam while the sun’s still shinin’!”
Of course he’d try to take advantage of the elements; “Let’s make him take his time, Golduck,” I mused, “start off with a Rain Dance to slow down his charge. Then, use your Ice Beam to knock him off balance!”
Contrary to popular belief, pokémon didn’t communicate simply by calling their names out in repetition—rather, they did so in a series of roars, grunts, or barks, similar to the animals from which they had evolved. As Cacturne closed his eyes and collected energy from the sun which lofted overhead, Golduck clapped his webbed hands rhythmically as several gray storm clouds floated in the sky. Quickly blocking out the sun’s powerful presence, a salty collection of water fell from the heavens.
Cacturne grunted, trying harder and harder to gather more sunlight to launch his attack. Meanwhile, Golduck leapt back and fired form his golden beak a solid beam of ice. As it hurdled through the air, the beam of frozen water began to collect the tiny water droplets as they fell. The ice beam slammed into Cacturne’s lower torso; he cried out in pain, clutching the wound with his two hands while trying to remain composed.
As the rain began to fall more heavily, I noticed that a few of the spectators that had encompassed the small grass field had gone away, perhaps to locate a nice tree to stand under. One figure remained—he looked to be an older fellow, in his mid-thirties, perhaps. He studied the two Pokémon battling as if he were being tested on this one day. I resumed my attention on the battle at hand, and waited to see my opponent make his next move.
Slowly but surely, the large cactus-esque Pokémon cried out as the barely-there sun gave him enough energy to attack his foe. Clapping his two pin-cushiony hands together, my opponent’s cacturne fired off a beam of concentrated sol energy. My golduck focused on the aforementioned beam of sunlight, waiting for just the right moment to duck away.
“Golduck, dodge and use Water Pulse,” I retaliated.
The blue golduck nodded at me, letting me know that he could handle the situation. When the golden beam shot through the field, he quickly stepped to the side. Narrowly avoiding the cacturne’s effort, Golduck smirked brightly while opening his beak once more. His eyes remained closed as a blue aura engulfed him; the falling raindrops immediately concentrated in a ball-shape within Golduck’s mouth briefly. When the moment was perfect, Golduck immediately hurled the collection of water directly at the cacturne.
“Cacturne,” my opponent yelled with no sense of concern, “counter with Needle Arm!”
However, as the chilling waters slapped against the grass Pokémon’s plant-like exterior, Cacturne only stared blankly. He was confused.
“Cacturne, do what I said!”
“I think he’s confused,” I earnestly replied.
“Don’t try to school me,” the cocky trainer scoffed, “do you even know who I am?”
No, I didn’t.
“I was the SGA President at my high school,” he smirked, “and I just so happen to be training at the top academy in the country next fall.”
Now I remembered. His name was Collin James, an elitist bigot from my high school. SGA stood for “Student Government Association”, which really meant nothing at all. However, despite accomplishing virtually nothing at all during his high school career, he received “first dibs” on everything, including a parking spot in the front row. His parents were loaded, which is why he got to drive home in a brand new Mustang every day. His parents were probably paying his tuition, too.
I had no tolerance for spoiled kids like him.
Meanwhile, the young man’s cacturne still stared blankly towards the sky, perhaps wondering why he was engulfed by “big grayish-black things”. This gave me an idea.
“Golduck, finish him with your Focus Punch!” Dark-aligned Pokémon such as houndoom and umbreon, or in this case, cacturne, weren’t used to being hit with a barrage of physical attacks, which meant that they had a weak defense against them. Normally, pokémon wouldn’t use Focus Punch because it required the user to become so engrossed by the attack that he or she would have no means to evade the attacks from his or her opponent. When the focus was dropped, the attack would fail as well. Luckily for me, however, Golduck’s opponent was currently in “la-la land”, giving him enough time to concentrate.
As the harsh rain continued to pelt down from up above, Golduck closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Collin continued to barrage the field with a series of insults and loud noises in hopes to break the trance which his pokémon had fallen. A few moments had passed, and while the cacturne stood slothfully in the wet grass, Golduck bashed him with his right arm, knocking him to the ground; ultimately, out of the battle.
Collin cursed under his breath whilst holding up a Poké Ball, “Return, Cacturne,” he said as he pointed the ball towards his fallen pokémon. Slightly depressing the middle button on the ball, he shot out a red beam of energy which zapped the downed beast before decomposing him in a pool of red light. Less than a second later, the cacturne was already pulled out of the field.
As the stuck-up “college student” walked away, I noticed my one and only spectator walking forward, “That was a magnificent display,” he mused, “what’s your name, kid?”
“Graves,” I replied, “Robbie Graves.”
_________________________________________________
[b][i][font=Palatino Linotype]-drew
Oh yeah, I also feel it necessary to expose my true identity. For those of you who thought I was actually named "Grey", dot-dot-dot. However, for those of you who knew me as "A. J. Hawthorne", haha! That's just a pen name. My real name is "Andrew Neff", however, because there's already an Andrew here... feel free to keep calling me Grey or Drew or whatever the hell you want. But anyway... without further stalling for time, I give you... The Academy.
_________________________________________________
THE ACADEMY
Super Duper Preview Addition
written by andrew j. neff
“I choose Golduck!”
I tossed the blue-shaded Poké Ball to the grassy fields below. Currently, I was battling against some big shot trainer from a greater city. He looked familiar for some reason, but I didn’t care enough to think about who he was. His face featured a certain arrogance that was only complimented by his large ego.
I watched as the trainer, whose name I never collected, tossed his Poké Ball to the ground in a similar motion; “You’re up, Cacturne!”
I figured as much. A trainer with this kind of attitude couldn’t rely on his own talents to win battles. It would appear that he won all his battles by elemental advantage—it looked like now would be the best time to shoot down his overconfidence.
The two Pokémon were released from their Poké Balls; I watched as each of them stared one another down. No doubt they were waiting for us to call out our attacks. Cacturne had the characteristics of both grass and dark elements, meaning that my golduck’s psychosis would be ineffective. Despite all this, I wasn’t worried. With a smirk on my face, I eagerly awaited my opponent’s first move.
“Let’s go, Cacturne! Use your Solarbeam while the sun’s still shinin’!”
Of course he’d try to take advantage of the elements; “Let’s make him take his time, Golduck,” I mused, “start off with a Rain Dance to slow down his charge. Then, use your Ice Beam to knock him off balance!”
Contrary to popular belief, pokémon didn’t communicate simply by calling their names out in repetition—rather, they did so in a series of roars, grunts, or barks, similar to the animals from which they had evolved. As Cacturne closed his eyes and collected energy from the sun which lofted overhead, Golduck clapped his webbed hands rhythmically as several gray storm clouds floated in the sky. Quickly blocking out the sun’s powerful presence, a salty collection of water fell from the heavens.
Cacturne grunted, trying harder and harder to gather more sunlight to launch his attack. Meanwhile, Golduck leapt back and fired form his golden beak a solid beam of ice. As it hurdled through the air, the beam of frozen water began to collect the tiny water droplets as they fell. The ice beam slammed into Cacturne’s lower torso; he cried out in pain, clutching the wound with his two hands while trying to remain composed.
As the rain began to fall more heavily, I noticed that a few of the spectators that had encompassed the small grass field had gone away, perhaps to locate a nice tree to stand under. One figure remained—he looked to be an older fellow, in his mid-thirties, perhaps. He studied the two Pokémon battling as if he were being tested on this one day. I resumed my attention on the battle at hand, and waited to see my opponent make his next move.
Slowly but surely, the large cactus-esque Pokémon cried out as the barely-there sun gave him enough energy to attack his foe. Clapping his two pin-cushiony hands together, my opponent’s cacturne fired off a beam of concentrated sol energy. My golduck focused on the aforementioned beam of sunlight, waiting for just the right moment to duck away.
“Golduck, dodge and use Water Pulse,” I retaliated.
The blue golduck nodded at me, letting me know that he could handle the situation. When the golden beam shot through the field, he quickly stepped to the side. Narrowly avoiding the cacturne’s effort, Golduck smirked brightly while opening his beak once more. His eyes remained closed as a blue aura engulfed him; the falling raindrops immediately concentrated in a ball-shape within Golduck’s mouth briefly. When the moment was perfect, Golduck immediately hurled the collection of water directly at the cacturne.
“Cacturne,” my opponent yelled with no sense of concern, “counter with Needle Arm!”
However, as the chilling waters slapped against the grass Pokémon’s plant-like exterior, Cacturne only stared blankly. He was confused.
“Cacturne, do what I said!”
“I think he’s confused,” I earnestly replied.
“Don’t try to school me,” the cocky trainer scoffed, “do you even know who I am?”
No, I didn’t.
“I was the SGA President at my high school,” he smirked, “and I just so happen to be training at the top academy in the country next fall.”
Now I remembered. His name was Collin James, an elitist bigot from my high school. SGA stood for “Student Government Association”, which really meant nothing at all. However, despite accomplishing virtually nothing at all during his high school career, he received “first dibs” on everything, including a parking spot in the front row. His parents were loaded, which is why he got to drive home in a brand new Mustang every day. His parents were probably paying his tuition, too.
I had no tolerance for spoiled kids like him.
Meanwhile, the young man’s cacturne still stared blankly towards the sky, perhaps wondering why he was engulfed by “big grayish-black things”. This gave me an idea.
“Golduck, finish him with your Focus Punch!” Dark-aligned Pokémon such as houndoom and umbreon, or in this case, cacturne, weren’t used to being hit with a barrage of physical attacks, which meant that they had a weak defense against them. Normally, pokémon wouldn’t use Focus Punch because it required the user to become so engrossed by the attack that he or she would have no means to evade the attacks from his or her opponent. When the focus was dropped, the attack would fail as well. Luckily for me, however, Golduck’s opponent was currently in “la-la land”, giving him enough time to concentrate.
As the harsh rain continued to pelt down from up above, Golduck closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Collin continued to barrage the field with a series of insults and loud noises in hopes to break the trance which his pokémon had fallen. A few moments had passed, and while the cacturne stood slothfully in the wet grass, Golduck bashed him with his right arm, knocking him to the ground; ultimately, out of the battle.
Collin cursed under his breath whilst holding up a Poké Ball, “Return, Cacturne,” he said as he pointed the ball towards his fallen pokémon. Slightly depressing the middle button on the ball, he shot out a red beam of energy which zapped the downed beast before decomposing him in a pool of red light. Less than a second later, the cacturne was already pulled out of the field.
As the stuck-up “college student” walked away, I noticed my one and only spectator walking forward, “That was a magnificent display,” he mused, “what’s your name, kid?”
“Graves,” I replied, “Robbie Graves.”
_________________________________________________
[b][i][font=Palatino Linotype]-drew