An Apple a Day
As I floated languidly through the trees of Sweet Apple Acres, I couldn't help but think back on my encounter with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They were adorable, that I cannot deny, but some of the ideas going through their minds honestly scared me somewhat. I count myself lucky that all they used for their "monster hunting cutie marks" was an ankle noose: it could have easily been a tiger pit or a dropped boulder. I paused. Come to think of it, how had they gotten the drop on me?
Let's see. I entered the orchard, looked at the trees, and then...and then... Hm...I can't remember. I must have spaced out. It would explain how those three managed to sneak up on me, but I can't help but feel I'm missing something...
I was distracted from my train of thought as I broke through the treeline. I had made it to the farm proper. The orchards were behind me, and to my front was a decent-sized farmhouse, on the other side of which was sprawling farmland sown with various crops. However, what drew my attention the most were the two ponies having an argument in front of the barn-like farmhouse. The mare I recognized as Applejack, but the other, a big, Clydesdale of a pony...I had a niggling feeling that I should recognize him, but I couldn't place it. He was, as I said before, a massive pony, his broad, muscular frame covered in apple-red fur, his mane and tail short shocks of straw-colored hair. I assume he was related to Applejack in some way: their eyes were the exact same shade of green. That, and his cutie mark was a cross-sectioned green apple. Peculiarly, he was wearing a harness around his neck, the kind a draft horse would wear to pull a plow or a wagon.
As I made my way closer to the pair, I was able to listen in on their argument.
"Dang it, Big Mac," I heard Applejack exclaim in irritation at the stallion. "Ah know what Ah'm doin'!"
"Now AJ," I heard Big Mac say calmly. "You remember what happened the last time?"
"Yes, Ah remember," Applejack replied testily. "Ah was there. Ah also remember that I let mah friends help in the end. Ah learned mah lesson," she ground out, poking Big Mac in the chest. "You, on the other hoof, need to get back inta bed. You remember what Doc Heart said: no exertin' yerself until after this bug y'all got has passed."
Big Mac sighed. "Eeyup." As the burly stallion turned to go inside, I noticed that there was a certain sickly pallor to his face. I resolved to stay away from him for the time being. I hate getting sick. Wait...can I still get sick?
I did not get the chance to ponder that possible revelation though, as Applejack chose that moment to turn in my direction, jumping in slight surprise as she took notice of me.
"Gah!" I'll give her credit, she does recover quickly from a shock. She looked at me warily, her surface thoughts revealing that, while she didn't trust me, she was willing to give me a chance. "Um, Mewtwo, waren't it?"
I preened slightly, please that someone had called me by name and not that ridiculous title at first sight. It was. I gestured towards the door Big Macintosh had just disappeared through. Might I ask what that was about?
"Oh, well uh," Applejack started. "Big Mac got hurt a while back, right before a monthly harvest, and I ended up workin' mahself into a right tizzy tryin' ta get all the apples in without help."
I see, I mused. I presume that there is another harvest coming up soon, and with your brother sick, he was worried about a repeat.
"Yeah," Applejack replied in surprise. "That's it exactly. Wait," she looked at me in suspicion. "How'd yah know Bic Mac was mah brother? I never told..." Applejack trailed off as something occurred to her. I knew exactly what she was about to say, too. "Yah read mah mind," she said accusingly.
I did. No point in lying, especially not to the bearer of the Element of Honesty (though it does raise the question of whether the lie detecting instinct was natural or bestowed by the Element). I had skimmed her surface thoughts for her relation to Big Mac, after all.
"Please don't."
I apologize. It is not something I have complete control over, I explained apologetically. To me, thoughts might as well be a conversation held at the next table over. I can cover my ears, so to speak, but some things still get through.
"Huh. That why yah live alone in the Everfree, then," the orange mare asked.
More or less. It was an unexpected bonus, I will admit. True, the Everfree had more creatures per square mile than Ponyville did, but the minds of animals are rather primitive compared to that of a sophont. Their simple thoughts were easy to tune out, much as one tunes out the sounds of nature.
"Alright." Applejack looked me over for a moment. "So, what brings yah to Sweet Apple Acres?"
When I awoke this morning, I found myself craving apples.
Applejack looked at me quizzically. "So, yah came here instead of the grocer's we sell to in town?"
I do not possess any currency. Applejack's mouth opened. At all. Her mouth closed. You can see my conundrum.
"Huh, that is a problem," Applejack mused, rubbing her chin in thought. I actively refrained from reading the hat-wearing pony's mind, so much so that I missed the person coming up behind me.
I jumped as something poked me in the back. "Applejack! The cat's got out!"
Applejack pulled the brim of her hat down over her face in embarrassment. "Granny Smith...we don't have a cat."
"Oh."
I turned around to see a very old and very wrinkly, granny smith green pony poking me with a knobby hoof. Everything about her spoke of age, even her cutie mark, an apple pie, looked old, if that was possible. She was gaunt, that kind of skinny old people get where their skin seems to stretch over their bones. Her hair was purest white, both tail and mane done up in a neat bun. She looked up at me, confusion in her squinting, orange eyes. "Whoo, yer a big kitty, ain't'cha?"
Yes, I am, I responded in bemusement. I was a bit intrigued: I couldn't make heads nor tails of the surface thoughts I was picking up from her, and to be honest, I'm not sure I want to.
"Well, you just stay right there," the old pony commanded, turning around to hobble inside. "And I'll have a nice saucer of milk for you in a jiffy!"
I cut off Applejack's protests by raising a finger. I'll take that in a cup, please. What? I like milk. Shut up.
Granny Smith waved a leg at me, still hobbling along. "You got it!"
I turned back to Applejack. So, what were you going to say before your grandmother came out?
"Oh, uh, well, Ah had an idea."
"What're they doin'?"
Scootaloo dropped her hooves away from her face and looked down from her perch in an apple tree. "What?"
"What're they doin'," Apple Bloom asked from the ground, repeating her question.
"They're talking," Scootaloo replied, bringing her hooves back up to her eyes. To be honest, she didn't really need the cardboard tube binoculars: she could see just fine, thanks to her superior pegasi eyesight, but all good investigators had binoculars to watch their targets with.
"Well, what're they sayin'?"
"I don't know," the orange pegasus filly replied testily. "I can't read lips."
"Well, what about when Granny Smith came out," Sweetie Belle asked curiously.
"She came out, they talked, and Granny Smith left," Scootaloo exclaimed. "All they're doing is talking! Why is this so boring?!" she cried, the frustration exploding out in a shout.
"The vast majority of detective work is doing stakeouts," Sweetie Belle pointed out.
Scootaloo pitched forward, thumping her head gently against the branch she was straddling. "Groan."
Sweetie Belle looked down, noticing something. "Oh, hey, Granny Smith is back. What's she doing?"
Lifting up her head and resting her chin on the branch, Scootaloo squinted at the goings-on. "She's giving him...a glass of milk?"
"Wait, really?" Apple Bloom's face scrunched up. "The hay?"
"Hey, they're leaving," Sweetie exclaimed, pointing a hoof at the departing figures down the hill.
"Well what're we waitin' fer," Apple Bloom inquired. "Let's follow 'em!"
"Hey," Scootaloo squawked indignantly as her two friends galloped down the hill. "Wait for me!" Jumping from the tree, Scootaloo flew after them, her little wings buzzing like a hummingbird's. She make it about a foot before she remembered that she couldn't quite fly yet, the world seeming to freeze in place as the young pegasus made that revelation. "Oh, ponyfeathers."
With a shriek, Scootaloo fell to the ground and bounced, rolling down the hill where she collided with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. The three fillies let out shrieks of surprise as they tumbled down the hill, where they finally came to a rest in a pony pile at the bottom.
Apple Bloom waved a hoof weakly in the air. "Anypony get the number of that wagon?"
In the old orchard at the edge of the Everfree, four ghostly shapes prowled the underbrush, skirting the dead-tree barrier the colorful-prey had constructed, with its strands of metal thorns. As was custom, the phantasmal beings searched for gaps in the barrier. Today, they found one: a single strand of metal thorns that had been eaten by brown metal-rot, leaving a small hole in the defenses. Snarling in victory, four wooden jaws began to tear at the metal thorns, slowly widening the gap.
Soon, they would hunt.
Soon, the gnawing hunger would be sated.
...if only for a moment...
As it turns out, Applejack's idea was to have me earn my apples by helping her with the harvest. That is to say: go applebucking with her.
"Now, we prefer to harvest apples the ol' fashioned way here at Sweet Apple Acres, without using magic," the stetson-hatted pony explained. "But, ah, for you, we might make an exception,' she said, eyeing my scrawny arms.
I know she was being honest and didn't mean anything by it, but honestly, I couldn't help but be a little insulted. I assure you, I said, crossing my arms. I am far stronger than I look.
Applejack gave me a side-eyed look as she looked me over head to toe. "Well, if'n yah say so." She trotted over to stand next to an empty, pony-drawn cart by a barn. "Right, so, apple baskets are in the barn," Applejack said, pointing to the stacks of half-barrels standing in the open barn doorway. "Jus' grab a few baskets, fill 'em up, and stick 'em on the cart there before gettin' new ones."
Alright. Simple enough. Floating over to a tree surrounded by some empty baskets, I settled into a simple fighting stance. Taking a deep breath, I swung my fist, punching the tree.
As it turns out though, applebucking is more than just hitting a tree very hard. It is not so simple as to just hit or kick a tree, there's a certain art to it. True, a good whack will knock a number of apples out of the tree, but I am sure that there is a trick to it, a sweet spot to hit, something. Applejack had it down to where it was instinctual, divesting a tree of all apples with a single buck--though whether that was inherent or earned through experience was up in the air.
Looking down at the handful of apples in the baskets, I looked up. Staring up at the apples still hanging in the tree, I clenched my fist. It would seem that I was...lacking when it came to my physical prowess. Perhaps I had focused too much on honing my psychic abilities and trying to learn my Pokemon moves. I would treat this as my training then, putting my all into every action, every motion, every movement.
The next few hours were a blur of motion. I punched with my fists, kicked with my feet, and attacked with my tail. I even tried a headbutt at one point--suffice it to say, that was the only time I used a headbutt. Once a tree was denuded of apples, I moved on. I was relentless, only stopping to telekinetically transfer the full apple baskets to the carts and retrieve empty ones from the barn.
I had worked up quite a lather by the time Applejack approached me, a question on her mind.
I did not stop the rapid-fire punches I was shaking the tree with. Yes?
"Hey, uh, Mewtwo, there's sumthin' Ah've been meanin' to ask," Applejack explained. "When we met ya after fightin' Discord, well, Ah'm not rightly sure how to explain it, but it was like the air was so heavy we could barely even breathe. What was that?"
I paused mid-punch, before lowering my fist. I turned to face Applejack, my chest heaving as I breathed heavily. Fortunately, I did not need my mouth to talk. I am...very powerful, I said truthfully. Gosh, how do I explain this without bringing Pokemon into it? It's not that I was ashamed of or wanted to hide what I was, but...how would the ponies react if they knew I was a clone of what was essentially a god? A literal force of nature? I may be a mindreader, but I'm no seer.
Imagine, if you would, a furnace, I began slowly. Now, imagine that the fire inside that furnace is so hot that it fills the room it is in with an unbearable heat. So you close the furnace door, but there is no latch, so you have to hold the door closed yourself. But at the same time, you have to go on with your life, and sometimes, your grip on the furnace door slips. I held up a clenched paw and summoned up a psychic field, bathing my fist in an actinic glow. I am that furnace, Applejack, I stated, turning to the farmpony, glowing fist still clenched. And sometimes, my paw slips on the furnace door.
Applejack looked at me with some pity. "That, uh, that sounds..."
Burdensome? Perhaps, I allowed. Fortunately, my control over the furnace door, over my Pressure, is more or less instinctual. Unfortunately, I sighed. Anger and adrenaline seem to erode that control. It is something I am working on.
"Huh," Applejack muttered absently. "Well, that's, uh...that's sure somethin'."
Applejack stared at me. I stared at Applejack. There was silence. It was awkward.
A shrill scream of terror echoed through the orchards. Applejack spun around, dread wafting off her like the stench from a dumpster in summer. "APPLE BLOOM!"
Galloping off at breakneck speeds, Applejack charged through the trees in the direction of the old orchard, with myself flying close on her heels.
A few minutes earlier...
"Well, that was an unsuccessful venture," Sweetie Belle commented as the three friends trotted into their treehouse clubhouse.
"It was a bust, is what it was," Scootaloo exclaimed, flopping down in the middle of the floor and smushing her face against the floorboards. "I don't know how you do it, Apple Bloom. Watching them applebuck was boring!"
"Applebuckin's actually kinda fun," Apple Bloom corrected absently as she sat down at their small table. "But, Ah'll admit, watchin' it is kinda borin'."
"Well, it was..." Trailing off, Scootaloo lifted her head off the ground and sniffed the air. Her face contorted in disgust. "Urgh, what's that smell?"
Curiosity piqued, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle made their way over to Scootaloo to smell the air. As such, when the front half of a timberwolf tried to force its way through the clubhouse's front door, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were not caught completely off guard. As it was though, the three little ponies froze, staring at the slavering monster trying to claw its way towards them.
As one, the three fillies let out a scream of terror.
I quickly outstripped Applejack and left her far behind. Though I was unfamiliar with the layout of the farm, I was able to navigate by the terrified screaming coming from up ahead: a task only made easier when I began to hear the snarling.
Bursting out of the trees into a small clearing, I saw them. Timberwolves. Necromantic constructs of dead wood in the form of arboreal wolves, glowing, sickly green eyes full of hatred and a ravenous hunger. There were four of them: three were circling the base of a short, stunted tree, while the fourth, visibly larger than the rest, tried to force its way into a treehouse a few feet off the ground, wedged halfway through the doorway.
Th-thump.
Time slowed to a crawl and the world shrank down to the scene before me. These things' existence was unnatural, even more-so than mine. Their minds were nothing more than cruel cunning, hatred, and a need to consume.
Th-thump.
My breath grew harsh and ragged as darkness began to encroach on the corners of my vision. Blood pounded in my ears. I was filled with a dark, blinding rage at the scene before me.
Th-thump.
I wanted to tear them apart with my bare hands.
Th-thump.
Time resumed, and the timberwolf in the treehouse gave a confused yelp as it was grabbed by the tail and cast bodily across the clearing. Scrambling back to its paws, the timberwolf spun about to face me.
I stood there, between wolves and treehouse. The pounding in my head grew to a crescendo, my power seeking to escape. I held up a paw behind me, encasing the treehouse in a blue glowing bubble. Then, and only then, did I release my tenuous hold on my power.
I roared a challenge, the air taking on a shimmering haze under the influence of my Pressure.
The timberwolves, undaunted by my challenge and the oppressive weight in the air, attacked, springing forward with bloodcurdling howls. Three of them pealed off to the sides, while the largest one, the alpha that had attacked the treehouse, came straight at me.
Contemptuously, I conjured a pane of psychic energy in its path, but to my shock, rather than shatter or bounce off it, the alpha began to push through, as if struggling through a thick spiderweb. My shocked hesitation nearly cost me.
I roared in pain as a pair of wooden jaws crushed shut on my arm. Snarling, I ripped it free, a crescent of blood arcing through the air as its slavering jaws snapped at nothing. Twisting my body, I hurled the timberwolf, shattering it against a tree. Another timberwolf launched itself onto my back, teeth tearing at the natural armor that mantled my shoulder. Bellowing in anger, I tore the beast from my back and slammed it to the ground before crushing its head under my foot. I spun about to face the third timberwolf just in time to see it lunge at me with wooden teeth bared.
Of course, in the heat of the moment, I had forgotten about the Alpha. Agonizing pain shot through me as a pair of powerful arboreal jaws bit down on my secondary spinal cord, the tube of thick, armored cartilage that connected between my upper back and the base of my skull. I staggered, blinded by pain and unable to see the last timberwolf as it went for my leg, but I certainly felt it when the timberwolf ripped my leg out from under me, sending me crashing to the ground on my face.
It is only the fact that my secondary spinal cord has no bones and is independent of my spine that my neck was not broken. Regardless, the way the alpha timberwolf was jerking my secondary spinal cord back and forth was excruciatingly painful, and the timberwolf gnawing on my ankle didn't help. Fortunately, even pinned as I was, I was not limited to physical abilities alone.
With a burst of psychokinetic power, I flipped into the air and unleashed a pulse of energy. Though the timberwolves slipped through the wave of power, there was still enough resistance to forcibly blast the two ligneous beasts away from my body. Both timberwolves recovered quickly, but only the smaller one attacked immediately, springing at me with slavering jaws open wide. A backhanded Brick Break to the jaw served to shatter it to pieces.
It was just me and the alpha.
And then the motherbucker went and pulled a motherbucking Sephiroth on me.
As I watched in disbelief, the pieces of the slain timberwolves flew into the air at the alpha, as did several dead trees, logs, and bushes from the direction of the Everfree Forest. As the detritus and dead timberwolf bits hit the alpha, it began to glow a sickly green, swelling to gargantuan size. When the green aura dissipated, I was left staring up at a king timberwolf the size of a house. It let loose a deafening howl, its foul breath washing over me in a cloud of fetid and rancid exhalation.
No. No. You know what? I'm done. Buck this guy.
Raising a hand, I fired off a Psywave into the king timberwolf's gaping maw, straight down its throat. The king timberwolf's jaws slammed shut, its eyes bugging out. The elephantine timberwolf reared up, clutching at its throat with its forepaws as it gagged in a fruitless attempt to clear its throat. After a few moments of gagging, it promptly swelled up and exploded, sending bark, branches, leaves, and what-have-you raining down from the sky.
As wood debris tumbled down around me, I fell on my backside with a slump, utterly spent. I didn't even need to reign in my Pressure, that's how exhausted I was. Why was I so tired? It wasn't like I...oh, right. I spent all morning applebucking...and forgot to eat breakfast. Of course. That would do it, I think. That reminds me, I'm hungry.
In a twisted and convoluted thought process, that thought somehow reminded me of shooting a Psywave down the king timberwolf's gullet.
Oh, hey, I successfully used Psywave. How'd I do that?
"THAT WAS AWESOME!"
I was broken from my train of thought by three very exuberant fillies thundering down the treehouse ramp and gathering around me, all clamoring together as they excitedly expressed their gratitude and recounted the fight.
"That was so cool how you--and then how he--neyoom, crash, boom!"
"Ah can't believe you did that! That was amazin'!"
"Thank you, thank you, thank you! They way you decimated those timberwolves-!"
I hissed in pain as one of the three accidentally poked one of my open wounds.
"Oh gosh, you're hurt!" No, really, you think?
Of course, this just made me that much aware of the wounds I had accrued in the fight. Oh, gosh it stings.
"Oh golly." The sudden exclamation made me look to the side to see Applejack standing next to me. How long had she been standing there? She lifted up a hoof, but stopped just short of actually touching me. "Yer hurt."
You should see the other guy, I snarked faintly. It wasn't all that bad, actually. True, I was covered in blood and sap, and the various scrapes, gauges, and lacerations hurt like the dickens, but...actually, it'd be really nice to know Recover right about now. But still, it wasn't that bad.
"Girls, y'all stay here and make sure Mewtwo is comfortable. "Ah'ma go get Twilight."
Now hang on, I tried to protest, but Applejack was already galloping away.
Zrrt!
The sound of tape being pulled from its roll brought my attention back to the three fillies, and the rolls of gauze and medical tape held in their forehooves. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS: MEDICS! YAY!"
Oh please, God no.
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Keep updating!!!!!
Mewtwo, there gonna "help" you whether you like it or not.
im picturing a soon to be bald mewtwo after the bandages are removed
At first I was a little hesitant about this story. Most of these crossover/displaced stories tend to follow very cliched trends or dive into senseless "comedy". You, however, have balanced the comedy and serious aspects, and while certain events still have occurred, (i.e. "save x from timberwolves/manticore), this story still is enjoyable.
Keep up the great work!
Damn, that was badass!
But at least it wasn't a catastrophe...
Being abut nit picky here, but Granny Smith ain't that naive if'n ya know what I mean.
Also, the fact that the Timberwolves are able to force themselves through a mental force of Will, despite being simple creatures is a bit confusing. It suggests either their strength is greater than Mew Two's Will, which is highly unlikely, or that the supposed hunger they have is lending them a force of Will greater than Mew Two's, which is terrifying.
8066845 Or they're Dark types.
8066850
Oh yeah, I forgot about types. That's even more terrifying, because it means despite this being a different world, Pokemon typing still applies.
Of course Timbwolves would be dark types. They're necromantic. It also means they're strong dark types, taking on a Legendary, even a low-level Legendary that our protagonist is.
8066857 Of course, normally I'd identify anything necromantic with Ghost type… that actually works better. Dark would simply be immune to that Psywave. So… wolf-shaped Trevenants, but hungrier.
8066845
8066857
It's a little bit of column A, a little bit of column B, and a tiny bit of column C. You'll notice that psychic stuff did still effect the timberwolves, if somewhat ineffectually so.
8066863
...Or that. Why is it that people can figure things out about what I wrote better than I can?
Why do I have the feeling that Mewtwo will sustain more damage from the crusader's attempts to 'heal' him than from the timberwolves?
Surely I'm just crazy, yes?
orig14.deviantart.net/8dc0/f/2011/191/a/c/mewtwo__s_other_power_by_livinlovindude-d3lnnp4.png
You sure AJ?
8066936 I'm sure they will act responsibly in their quest for a nurse cutie mark:
Nice chapter, good work.
TM44: Rest.
Just fall asleep, Mewtwo. You'll recover health (and the sleep will override any burns, poisons, or paralysis).
You can also use Snore and Sleep Talk while asleep, so you're not fully defenseless - though the former is kind of weak (50 Base Power as of Gen VI - i.e. XY, ORAS), and the latter calls forth a random move from the user's moveset, so it may summon a disadvantageous move (such as Brick Break when physical attacks are ineffective), or Rest, which does nothing when the user is already asleep.
8066868 8066850
Dark is immune to Psychic.
But a necromantic construct is clearly a Dark/Ghost type, so half-effect from Psychic.
And Pokemon learn the terror of the CMCs.
Oh my what an awesome chapter! I thought it was going to be a something simple and slice of life with Mewtwo (the Reader) helping Applejack on the farm to earn some Apples to eat. Was not expecting Timberwolves and a battle with them. I enjoyed it very much, just goes to show you Mewtwo is a good guy or Neutral Good at least.
Though he used Psywave in battle so I guess his primal instincts to "protect" and his drive to "challenge" his foe helped draw out more of his abilities in the fight. Though he instinctively used it I bet he'll be frustrated later when he CAN'T do it consciously unless you can which would be awesome.
Now I wonder what the next chapter will be about with Twilight arriving on the scene. I kinda like that Mewtwo is showing he is trustworthy to Applejack at least so he's got one pony on his side at least... especially saving her sister and her friends. Hmm... perhaps Rarity too as her sister was saved as well and she did love how he decorated his castle so I expect her asking Mewtwo for help on fashion stuff.
However... be strong Mewtwo. It will be over with the CMC giving you medic. I can't wait for next chapter!
Until next time, this is VirusChris signing off! Sayanora my Nakama! Laters!
Ok, I believe I have given this enough time in order to write a good, HONEST, review. I'll start with the good.
The execution is good, writing is good, easy to follow, with few errors...
The bad is its predictability...It is just like 90% of displaced stories out there. I have been able to roughly predict what was going to happened so far with startling accuracy, from the breaking out of the prison, to Mewtwo taking refuge at the castle, to the whole "oh, crap, I'm weak as s**t! I got to train!" Senario, to him getting hurt for the purpose of having something the mane6 will pitty/be thankful for/show that he is not a bad guy...
You gave me some hope during the first chapter, when it appeared that Mewtwo was going to ignore discord as he KNEW that the problem would solve itself, but that hope was promptly dashed, and did it anyway.
My prediction for next chapter is that, they are going to get twilight, and they are going to go back to sweet apple acers, somehow the rest of the mane 6 are going to end up seeing how badly he got hurt protecting the CMC(maybe they were already with twilight), and they are going to feel pitty for him, and from there their friendship will start...
9/10 for execution
1/10 for creativity
5/10 over all score
Finally something uploaded on April Fools that wasn't prank related, either in good jest or the D
Wad Mind F
ery too many seem to take perverse joy in inflicting on their loyal followers ...
CMC Shenanigans don't count because that's "Just Tuesday" as far as they're concerned, and Granny Smith is Granny Smith and makes no excuses for her eccentricities...
Thank you for this, even if that may not have been your intent.
As to the story itself, an interesting fight scene, though I do have to wonder just how you're rating Mewtwo-X in terms of Power. We know that he's powerful enough to go toe to hoof with Both of the Royal Sisters, even with them holding back, but here we see him struggling against a couple timberwolves. The former may be explained by him being "Empowered by Rage", and thus not restraining his power at all while the sisters held back, but he still Leveled a Mountain Range in the process. Dark Type or no, he should have the power to simply Crush them under the overwhelming weight of his Psychic Power as easily as you crush an ant under your heal...
Unless, now that he's actually cognizant of his power he's subconsciously holding back more than he realizes and doesn't know exactly how much he could actually do if he wasn't holding back...
8067563 The reason Mewtwo was having problems with the fight was that he was somewhat drained: he had been applebucking for several hours straight and had forgotten to eat breakfast. Of course, your theory on holding back a la Superman may hold some water.
8067571
Physically drained, sure, but from personal experience I know that that is different from being Mentally drained, which is where Mewtwo's real strength lies. I admittedly don't work the most physically demanding job in the world (merchandising shelves in retail, including resetting seasonal sets), but I still get pretty tired from time to time, especially before Christmas and around Spring, or if a vendor wants to completely gut and update something in their set mid season, but while my body may be tired at the end of the day my brain is usually still running at a million miles a minute.
Living in a "World Of Cardboard" is a distinct possibility, however, especially if he doesn't realize just how much he's actually holding back... If he ever decided to test his limits, though, I hope he has the sense to either do it over the ocean or find a nice deserted wasteland to do it in, because he's probably going to be doing some unintentional terraforming in the process...
8067521 Of course, there is the possibility that Twilight is still wary of him. Not antagonistic (maybe), but not all that trusting either.
You do have a point about the predictability, though. I do hope that something big comes soon.
Still, this may simply be the beginning of a common arc in both displaced as well as HiE fics: the settling in.
The settling in is where the new character takes the time to get settled into the town before the MAJOR stuff happens. This allows the character to have some adventures getting to know the town before they start having to rely on the main cast for help.
8066857 Keep in mind that he was doing some serious manual labor on an empty stomach. That can kill a guy if not leave him passing out. I've felt that just from riding a bike with no food for half a day.
That considered, Mewtwo had a serious handicap that dropped him to those timberwolves' level.
8067812
True. But we're talking psychic here, not physical. All of Mew Two's abilities are backed by psychic energy. Even the physical ones are backed by energy. Pokemon energy.
That bit from the Timber Wolves perspective really makes me want to write something like that.... Hmmm....
[youtube=https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9N8IpxO6rKs]
Interesting that the fence is so effective. Reference to the games perhaps?
The "too many minds" excuse doesn't hold much water. You get used to it, ask any big-city folk how unbearable it is to be ever surrounded by din.
Keep going! ;)
I like your story, quite a bit actually. And seeing that I Absolutely hate displaced fic's, that's saying something. It has a few little errors, but nothing too bad. So as long as you keep going as you are, and don't tank the ending, you can keep my up-vote - In fact this one of, if not the best, displaced fic I've read (in my many years and two account changes) on Fimfiction and I'd give you more if I could. I try and give every story I think I would be interested in the benefit of the doubt, and with displaced fic's it's usually been a let-down, but not this time.
I'm glad I gave your story a chance after being shot down time and time again, so, thank you. And keep on keepin' on.
Some more words of support, to put in your shoe-box - or whatever.
Also, if you need a proofreader/editor let me know. As I said, I picked up on a few errors but nothing serious (In my opinion). You seem to have it well in hand, but if you need another set of Eyes let me know. It'd be nice to work on a story I actually like.
Nooo! A cliffhanger
8067960 he never said that it was unbearable, just unpleasant, he only implied so to applejack, and he only said that it was a pleasant bonus, and just because you can get used to a lot of noise, doesn't mean that it isn't nice to have it go away
Hey i just found MewTwo peace of mind
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Too bad Mewtwo doesn't know Recover at this point. It'd probably be more helpful than one would expect, especially if it gets coupled with an age-old Apple Family recipie for counteracting timberwolf bites - bites that seem venomous to me, due to the decayed nature of the arboreal beasts.
That said... more Mewtwo!!
You know what would be funny? Is if this obvious Trope is partially subverted. Apple Bloom should actually be competent with bandages and basic first aid due to living on a farm where injuries are common.
I say partially subverted because I can't help but picture Scootaloo getting tied up in a ball of sticky tape.
8067521 I feel the same way about the predictability, however I would like to say that while originality can and generally does improve a story, most of the entertainment value is in the execution and lack of errors which, as you pointed out is quite well done in this story.
8067856 8067571 I would read something like that. On the same note I really enjoyed the perspective of the timberwolves and hope that you include more things like it in the future.
8067827 I'm pretty sure skimping on breakfast would screw you over in terms of psychic energy as well. Not saying you don't have a point, just that doing anything on an empty stomach will seriously handicap you.
8069831
Depends how long. I can go fine on an empty stomach. But then again I'm not normal.
8070083 Me too
Interesting read.
8070083
your metabolism is eating stored carbohydrates.
8067521
execution is all that matters according to the Two Cakes Theory of Artistry:
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8069804
I would have to disagree. Would you prefer to read an entertaining story with more than a few grammatical errors, or would you rather read a perfectly executed and dry dictionary...? You could have a perfectly executed book, but if it is boring, what's the point? though execution is a major part, I believe it is nowhere near the most important. In most cases, the if the reader finds a story interesting, engaging and unique, most people can and will ignore some flaws, and in some rare cases, they will ignore quite a few, I've seen it. Stories that are riddled with errors, but the story is so good, not a single person talks about it in the comments.
8071947
But I believe that's only most people, and at the end of the day, it boils down to "to each their own"
Quick! Use recover!
Good chapter.
I'm curious what will happen next.
(Anything with mummies?)
And no, I personally don't think your chapters are too short.
Also, you are making good music suggestions.
Edit: fixed.
8082579 Thank you. Fixed.
Dammit you tease! I really like this story and you tease us with a new chapter!
Odd... I'm clicking the link in my Update Notification to chapter 9, but it's sending me to the cover page...
It happens!
So he really does need the battle experience to tap into his full pokemon abilities. The fight was pretty epic though. Personally, I'd say it's more an Android 13 than a Sephiroth but that's only cause I'm a DBZ fan.
The furnace analogy is awesome though. I really liked it and the mental imagery it creates, and how it explains the shared Pressure ability of the legendaries.
Though I accept your apology, I am still sad.