Zapdos

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

“Y-yeah, you’re right,” Clark responded, motioning for Arthur to follow him to join the caravan. It was clear to the cricket’s traveling companion that Clark much more nervous than he was, despite having done this before. Arthur told himself he’d be brave, even though his nerves were telling him a different story.

As the caravan moved into the city proper, Arthur took the chance to look around and observe what he could see of Irris, being sure to stay on the lookout for Charity Lane. While he hadn’t seen it so far, he had seen enough of the city to figure out that Irris was a place of many contrasts. There were nice neighborhoods with fancy houses for a few people guarded by fancy looking gates a block or two away from slums crammed with many more people than that. There were many people working for an honest living and people committing crimes just far enough away that those honest people could plausibly deny seeing them. And even where Arthur and Clark were now, there were ornate shopping buildings next to run-down market stalls.

The man noticed the caravan was starting to spread out as it got further into Irris. Some of the people were going to the lower part of the city, some were heading to different parts of the market, and others were heading in other directions entirely. The man couldn’t help scanning for the direction where the prisoner wagon was going. He didn’t know where Charity Lane was, but hopefully it was in a different-

DINGDONGDINGDONGDINGDONG! The sudden ring of a bell, this one quicker and even louder than the one he heard before, interrupted Arthur’s thoughts. This was immediately followed by distinct, panicked yelling. “The prisoner has escaped! THE PRISONER HAS ESCAPED! ALL UNITS-”

The source of the alert was quickly silenced, presumably by the frog. “We should get out of here,” Clark whispered. Arthur agreed and was about to start running, but the former convict hopped right in front of the pair!

“Prison food is so bland. I think I’d like a little snack,” the frog menacingly said, instantly stretching his tongue out at Clark. The cricket froze in place, expecting the worst, but out of instinct Arthur grabbed the tongue with his hands! He then pulled the appendage like it was a chain attached to a ball, moving the frog’s body so it would slam against a nearby building with significant force.

Only after doing this did Arthur consciously realize that yes, he could fight and yes, he could win. This was surprising to say the least, and the man was definitely still scared of his amphibian opponent, but he knew he would not back down. Arthur took a step in front of Clark and got into a defensive fighting stance, preparing himself for however the frog planned on countering him next.

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

“Don’t fall asleep,” Clark told Arthur.

“Huh?” Despite being with the cricket for the entire time he could remember, Arthur wasn’t entirely used to his mind reading ability yet.

“If something happens, I can’t really fight. I can jump, and sure that’s fun, but that doesn’t help you at all.”

“Right, thanks.” They settled into a sort of silence after that; Clark was fiddling with a stick while Arthur tried to stay awake.

Losing focus and without much else to talk about, Arthur asked the cricket “so, if this area is so bad, why do you live close to it?” Even lost in his own thoughts earlier, Arthur had noticed the two locations weren’t significantly far away from each other.

“Oh, it’s not like Irris; back home, the Queen keeps us safe.”

“The Queen?”

Clark started drawing a little map with the stick in the dirt. “See, where we are now is by the river, which is the border.” Saying this, he pointed to a loose approximation of the spot they were at. “Later, we’ll go up the river and cross the bridge; then we’ll be on the road near Irris where the caravan will be.” After that, he drew a little arrow in the dirt to illustrate what he just said. “Everything beyond the river is human land. Where we are is bug land, and this land is safe for all of insectkind because of the queen. See, above ground is where people like me, the butterflies, and so on live. Below,” he continued as he poked the dirt with the stick, “is where the queen and her kind live. Tons of ants, all in service to Her Majesty. If there’s trouble up here, they’d help us, and vice versa. And that’s why I can live in Fletcherville; lots of humans might hate us, but in a group, they fear us even more. More importantly, there’s good people there.” This last, the cricket said with his usual enthusiasm.

Arthur smiled and was about to acknowledge that point, but he heard something in the distance. It was...

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

Arthur accepted Clark’s offer, following him through a windy wooden trail to where he would eventually end up; the village of Fletcherville. It had the appearance of a fairly small town and it looked almost improvised due to the way the residences and buildings were built; there were lots of small wooden shacks with the odd one-story ranch house interspersed here and there. Yet the village did not look derelict; the buildings were all decorated with plants, some even being used as important parts of the structures, such as the thick ivy roof in the doctor’s office Clark had led Arthur inside of.

The more unusual part, for someone not used to such things, was that the cricket’s “people” were actually a variety of different human-sized bugs. Butterflies, ladybugs, and spiders were among the different ones Arthur saw, and this included the man he was now talking to while Clark sat nearby. Doctor Smith was a centipede. An educated centipede that had given the amnesiac man a physical earlier and was now finishing asking him a series of questions.

“And you don’t feel light headed at all?”

“No. Like I said, I was hungry and thirsty earlier, but that’s it.”

“Well Arthur, the good news is I don’t think the memory loss is from disease. You’re perfectly healthy. The bad news is that I can’t cure your memory myself.”

The man felt dejected at the news. “Nothing at all?”

“I said ‘myself.’ There might be a way to do it, but it’s a long shot.”

“How?” Arthur felt at this point he would do anything to know who he was.

“There’s a fruit called a Sun Berry. It’s in the shape of a small sphere, the size of a grape, and is an extremely bright white color - hence the name. It’s said that when one is eaten, it gives the eater extreme mental clarity, like sunshine after a storm. Based on what I’ve read of people who ate it, it will likely restore your memory.”

“That’s great!” A lead was finally in sight. “Do you know where I can get one?”

“No. I literally just said I can’t cure your memory myself.” Arthur couldn’t tell, but he thought he saw the doctor roll his eyes as he was going through a nearby cabinet. “The berry is extremely rare, so it’s not like you can just buy it at the store.”

“What should I do, then?”

“Well, you can start by delivering this.” Finishing his words, the centipede gave the man a jar the size of a dictionary filled with some kind of red powder.

The doctor had just made a big deal about what he couldn’t do, so this confused Arthur. “…how will this cure my memory?”

“It won’t. My time isn’t free and I know neither of you have gold, so you and Clark can deliver that to my patient instead. He lives in the human town and this is cheaper than mailing it.”

For the first time in a while, the cricket spoke up. “Wait, why both of us? I-”

“Can you read the word in my mind right now?” the centipede asked scornfully. He looked at Clark, waiting as long as he needed to get the point across.

After about a minute, Clark sighed. “Fine, I’ll guide him there. Who are we giving this to?”

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

@Guccicorn you are next!

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

grabbed a cup filled with fresh water and threw the liquid on his face. Suddenly, the man felt like he wasn’t the crazy one here.

“What was that for?” he asked. He might have been more irritated if the whole situation was less absurd.

“Oh, you didn’t want that?” the cricket curiously asked.

“No!”

“Sorry.” The response was conversational and plain, not particularly apologetic at all. And after the cricket said this, he resumed tending to the fire as if nothing had happened at all. The man wasn’t sure what was going on anymore; after the cricket finished his job, he just stood there with a small smile, watching the flames. Was all of this some hallucination brought on by a lack of food and water? Finally, after a few minutes, the cricket spoke up: “this’s real.”

“...what?”

“You’re wondering if this is all real or something. Right?”

“...right.” Seriously, what was going on here?

“YES!” The cricket literally jumped for joy, grinning like a child opening birthday presents. “I did it!”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, I can read minds, but only a little.” He made a very small gap between his thumb and index finger, as if to illustrate his point. “Like your ‘hallucination’ or ‘water’ words from before, not like whole thoughts and such. I’m practicing to get better though!” This last part, he said with great enthusiasm.

The man’s eyes widened, excited by the possibility he just imagined. “Maybe you can practice by helping me with my memory? I can’t seem to remember anything about myself.”

“Nah, I’m not that good. I’unno anything about you, like why you were on that beach so long,” the cricket responded with a shrug, “just thought you might be cold.”

“Uh...thanks. Was the smoke you too?”

“My fire made the smoke, so yes?” For once, the cricket was the one who sounded confused.

“Never mind.” The man supposed it was better to focus on one mystery at a time, and this cricket could probably help him with an easier one. “Could I have some more water please?”

“Sure!” The cricket then grabbed a clay bottle, poured some water into the cup from before, and splashed it on the man’s face again.

“I meant to drink.”

“Oh,” was all the cricket said before filling up the cup once more and giving it to the man.

“Thank you.” Despite the absurdity of what had happened to him, the man couldn’t help but appreciate that he had ended up somewhere safe, at least for now. Whatever had happened, things certainly could have gone a lot worse for him, so he supposed it was time to solve another easy mystery. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m Clark! I’m a cricket. Did you know that?”

“...yes. So what are you doing out here by yourself?”

Rise of the New Heroes

Thundercloud

Before Thundercloud executed his electrical execution, he noticed the shadow girl he kicked disappear. Whatever, that wasn’t surprising; the darkie was just being useless like all black people were. More importantly, the Otaku’s girlfriend and grunge guy were working on some kind of plan, which was to apparently throw the spear his way while getting hit by lightning! Thundercloud supposed this shouldn’t be that surprising; emos enjoy killing themselves, after all.

The spear was easy enough to counter; thanks to the electricity it had absorbed, Thundercloud could simply move it in mid-air away from him. Interestingly, the spear dissolved shortly after that. Maybe that was part of the girl’s power?

More difficult to counter, however, would be the tire charging at him again. He had to assume the rubber had protected it from too much damage. This was just tedious now; it’s not like he’d fall for the same trick twice. Thundercloud created small “cotton balls” in his palms and the bottom of his feet, allowing him to catch the tire head-on even as he was pushed back a bit.

Though the “cotton balls” had disappeared, the fat man had the tire thing right where he wanted it. Taking a deep breath, he used all his strength to toss it towards one of the now glassless windows, then shot a beam of electricity at it, sending it blasting off in the sky like Team Rocket after they failed to steal Pikachu. Whoever or whatever was controlling the tire would not be helping these wannabe super heroes again any time soon.

Robin

Thundercloud was more serious than ever, unlike Narumi. Didn’t she see that people were in danger here? Still, there was no use dwelling on it, not when the racist electric user was charging up an attack. And whatever attack this was, it was going to hurt. Robin was even more alarmed to discover that he didn’t have enough barrier talismans to protect everyone.

He was determined to do what he could, though. Deciding to repay the favor for the protection earlier, Robin used all of his talismans to create a shield around Kestrel, protecting her from Thundercloud’s front and rear strikes. He then hid behind Narumi, hoping she would protect them both, at least out of self-interest. Instead, said one word and disappeared, leaving Robin to be killed by Thundercloud’s attack.

The last thing Robin heard before dying was the word “fish.”

Thundercloud

The villain examined the results of his lightning strike as the rain started to clear. The results were more mixed than he’d have liked; while the Jap was dead and one girl in the fetal position was going to be dead, the Chinaman’s girlfriend was still alive and-

"Alright. No more fucking around. Let's get sparkly."

“How the fuck is he still alive? He took a lightning bolt to the back,” Thundercloud thought.

And was there another girl near the lobby? That’d have to be something to deal with later though; right now the fat man had a very colorful target to destroy.

“Okay, you fruity knock-off Super Saiyan,” he declared, breathing heavily as he did so “as the dead gook would tell you, imitating Asians won’t help you win.” Thundercloud then started charging another attack. Though there was no real lightning to accompany this one, the villain was able to send another burst of electricity towards Kain and Kestrel.

This would hopefully kill those two. Then he could finish off the rest of them and have a nice meal from the vending machine. He deserved a nice break after working so hard to kill these retards.

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

Guccicorn has posted, so @Stuzzie you are the next writer!

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

It was a warm, sunny day today. That much was obvious to the man lying face-down on the sandy beach. Everything else, however, was a mystery. Where was he? Why was he there in the first place? And who was he, anyway? All he knew about himself is what he could see, and that he was wearing a simple white shirt with khaki pants that smelled like salt water. If he had a mirror, he’d also learn he had brown hair and black eyes, but that was information he'd have to gain later.

As the man got up, he felt something in one of his pockets. He grabbed the object and examined the item; it was a key. Immediately, the man knew this was no ordinary key. It was the size of a quill pen, it had a luster that made it look like it was made of gold, and there was a pearl where the hole for a key ring normally was. He also knew that keeping it was vitally important. Why this was the case, he did not know; one more mystery to add to the list, he supposed.

The man tried to think of what he should do next, but he saw something else in the distance that attracted his attention instead. What he saw was...

Mystery of the Key - a Collaborative Writing Story

@Stuzzie no problem! Your post is accepted. It doesn't matter much for the sample, but in the story itself I'd just be more careful about proper grammar. I'm not looking to be the grammar police, but it just makes writing look much nicer without much effort.

With that said, I will send you a PM with a link to the Discord!

Thornwood Asylum For The Criminal Insane- A Villain Roleplay.

For whatever my opinion is worth @Eviledd1984 as a lurker here I can vouch for @Blazion's skill as a writer. Whatever you decide with regards to their idea, I know they will make a quality CS.