(18) - Scathing Remarks
A Pokemon Problem
(18) - Scathing Remarks
My moment of complete and utter befuddlement was interrupted when I heard a nervous gulp come from behind me. Three gryphons, the same three that spent the last hour or so dragging me along, stood at the edge of the fighting pit, and were huddled together, quivering.
They were all about equal height, and the only thing that truly separated them was their colouring. Dirk, the female, had tan feathers and black fur. Clave, who was the only one sporting any apparel (it was a grey, low-brim fedora, and it somehow suited him), was white feathered and tan furred. The third gryphon who hadn't had his name said aloud had caramel coloured feathers and a strange, almost purple fur colour on his second half.
"Ya—ya'll're alive!" stammered Clave, who took his hat off and held it against his chest like he was visiting someone's funeral. "But I—we—you...?"
"Thanks for dragging me along with you," I said. "It made me feel like someone cared." I waited for their confused expressions to die down before saying, "Now: run, little gryphons! Run before the Ghost gets you!"
On cue, Ryder shimmered into existence beside me with his face twisted in a psychotic smile, the kind you'd see on someone in an insane asylum after you asked them what they were in for. He raised his hands to the sky menacingly, and all that was missing was a flash of lightning. The gryphons made the wise decision, and decided to skedaddle.
As they desperately flapped away with small tufts of fur and feathers trailing off in their wake, I called, "And if you three value your lives, you'll tell every gryphon you meet that animal fights are no longer allowed!"
I heard a squawk that could've been a yes, no, or something in-between.
I turned to Ryder and offered my right grasper. "High five."
He hit my hand, producing a strange echoing noise when his ghost-flesh connected with my metal limb. I was honestly expecting his hand to go straight through; I guess he got better at controlling his powers, just as I had.
"Where are the rest of the gryphons?" I asked.
"Well," began Ryder as he began to point out directions, "some went that way, a bunch went that way, and the rest went that way. I don't think the expression 'with their tails between their legs' is any more applicable than what just happened."
I nodded an affirmative.
"If you and the... spirit are done, would you mind breaking me out of here?" asked Philomena, who went back to preening almost immediately. "I don't care if you leave the chick remains trapped within, so long as I am free."
I attempted to raise an eyebrow, but realized that I didn't have any soon after. Well, if I one day turned into a Metagross, and I had control over my moustache/eyebrow-thing attached to my face, then I might be able to convey such motions again.
"Actually, Philomena... we didn't come here to save just you."
The phoenix tilted her head slightly. "I never thought you were: I just thought you happened to be traveling nearby and pitied my condition," she chirped. Her voice, which sounded like a nineteenth-century noblewoman's, sounded incredibly strange coming from the mouth of the tall, thin bird within the fighting pit.
"Close enough. I heard Miranda—that's the 'chick' getting ready to kick you in the face, just so you're aware." I stifled a laugh as Philomena cawed and flapped her wings backward, narrowly missing a kick from Miranda's clawed foot.
"Hey! Why'd you warn it? I was going to win!" she whined.
"One: it's a she. Two: quit fighting! That phoenix—"
"Phoenix?"
"—fire-bird that can't die of old age is named Philomena, and she's not going to hurt you if you stop trying to hurt her!" I made sure to glare at the phoenix. "Right?"
Philomena puffed her chest up in indignation. "I will refrain from harming her if she halts her assault on me!"
I rubbed the side of my head in exhaustion. Christ, is was like talking to two children. Anyway, after I finally achieved the mighty goal of stopping Miranda and Philomena from killing each other, I planted my two large graspers against the metal grate and heaved with all of my might. After the sound of groaning metal died away, I carefully floated the grate off to the side, freeing the Combusken and the phoenix.
Philomena soared into the air, graceful as a swan, and three times as beautiful. She twisted and spiralled up into the air before opening her wings to their full span, basking in the Sun's heat and strength.
Miranda, on the other hand, simply tensed her legs and jumped out of the fifteen foot deep pit like it was nobody's business. She looked around, eyes blinking and unused to the brightness of being aboveground, until she spotted my hovering form flying a few feet away. With a squeal, she jumped right on top of me, making me sink a foot lower while I attempted to readjust for Miranda's weight.
"Oh, honey bunch, it's so good to see you~!" she cooed. Miranda was spread-eagled on top of me, and was holding on tight.
"Y—Yea—Yep. I'm sure it is. Uh-I mean, good to see you too..." I mentally stammered. Philomena, who had just returned from her air show, perched upon the thin portion of my right arm, the part right before my 'shoulder.' Her feet felt like two hot, iron bands.
"I thank thee, creature of metal and thoughts, for rescuing me from my prison. Wouldst thou—"
"I swear, if you keep talking like that, I'm going to lock you back up, Philomena. I was traumatized by Shakespeare as a child, and I still can't stand Old English."
The phoenix blinked several times in confusion before ruffling her feathers. "I... apologize," she chirped. "Perhaps I spent too much time around unicorns: I tend to pick up the speaking mannerisms of whomever I'm presently traveling with."
"That brings me to my next point," I thought, remembering. "Are you coming with us, Philomena? There's still two more of our group that are lost somewhere, and after we find them, we will try to gain a conference with Princess Celestia."
Philomena thought for a moment before answering. "Considering the fact that the last time I traveled on my own, I was captured by a gryphon... I accept your gracious offer...?"
"Call me Little Guy: everyone else already does."
"Really? 'Little Guy?' I don't call eight inches—"
"Gah!"
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His penis is eight inches? Ironic.
I await more from you my good sir!
Also, Philomena is best pony.
I like Philomena more in every chapter.
I know that feeling... so I instantly replace Shakespeare with Luna and power on. It still hurts to read, though :C.
His penis is now.......A LIGHTNING ROD.
2473735 damn, beat me to the punch.
Those last two lines!
What a hot rod.
YEEEEAAAAAHHH
Shakespeare is much, MUCH better reading it voluntarily. Trust me.
Maybe think of something a little more unorthodox for the example when he's talking about babysitting, It seems like it tries to be a joke but the example is just too common to be funny as it does happen a lot. Other than that nice work, it'll be interesting to see what other 3 stage pokemon you've chose for the group.
2473735>>2473756
You can also say it's a CHICK MAGNET
2474283
I just took it out
Too much effort to make a better joke :P
2474321 Ah, oh well, it was a fair attempt
Oh god this whole chapter
I always hated Shakespeare, but I find it hard to NOT be able to read Old English. Part of which is why I like Luna.
2473625 The irony is doubled because he's made of iron.
It was at this point that he remembered that to a steel Pokemon fire=bad.
No wonder she's clingy.
I thought he/it didn't have a gender?!?
2973708He did as a human.
Rhyder learned Scary Face!