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Post by Genesect on Nov 1, 2013 18:45:03 GMT -5
Ah, the 'desert'. Really, it didn't look anything of the sort: the land was burnt and hard, water refusing to settle but in the deep cracks of the earth. In this dead soil, only the most persistent of wildflowers managed to bloom; that, and sickly-looking fungi, cropping up at the roots of each dead tree. To many, this would be a place with no reason to travel to. No animal could survive off this land...
... But, in an island filled with infected Pokemon, this place did give one a chance to defend themselves. This was the cold logic behind the metal insect crossing along The Spruce Desert. It was nice and open, allowing the machine to see a wide area around him. With each step, the heavy pseudo-legendary heard the sound of burnt twigs snapping under its feet. A few yards behind, his accomplice, a Scizor, stretched his claws into the air, giving a bored stretch and yawn. In the bright sun, its red shell shone brightly, a definite gleam bouncing uncomfortably off his head. Dragging his feet, the Scizor sighed out once more:
"C'mon, boss." Matching back into pace with Genesect, the Scizor complained, pointing towards the sky: "Its friggin hot today, and I can't cut up anything out here! Why are we going this boring way?"
"Complaint... unbased." Shrugging off the Scizor's words, the Pokemon wordlessly pushed forward, a 'tsk' earned from the winged bug.
"Fine, fine, sheesh. Didn't mean to get your servos or whatever in a knot." Crossing its arms, the Scizor clicked his claws impatiently, letting his discomfort be annoyingly known to the legendary.
"..."
In all, this seemed destined to be another boring trek through the wild. However, there was something that Genesect hadn't considered at this point: traveling through such a wide, dry, open area, there was nothing to dampen his presence. Not only was he easier to spot in this vast plane, but his magnetic field had nothing to dampen it in this open environment.
At this point, he had no idea a certain organization already knew something was up.
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Post by Keldeo "Keenan Valero" on Nov 8, 2013 3:59:25 GMT -5
(I wrote this on an hour of sleep. Tell me if there are any issues)
The humans had little idea. The fact that they had sent him to survey the desert was truly a tad laughable. It was like sending a person gifted with fire powers on a mission deep within the sea—more than likely trapped in the confines of a highly pressurized submarine. Those within Pravus had little idea that their mercenary was a legendary; their folly in their choice of soldier proved this. Then again, with battle singing in his veins and thrill accompanying it in harmony, Keldeo had little issue. A water-god could still do battle in this land of sand. In fact, much of his training had focused on on putting the old-goat at a disadvn=antage
There had been many times he had been forced to endure far worse. A few memories came to mind. Most of them involved hot pokers, slow flames, and men in hooded masks. He enjoyed the feeling of kicking their teeth out. / Clad in practical clothing, with a thick jacket and pants rated against infected teeth, the “human” stood posed atop a hill of cracked dirt. Teal eyes, keen and attentive, surveyed the immediate area. Pokemon followed behind their diety; the Druddigon, scouting ahead on dark red wings, was the most obvious of these. Finally, with his senses peering deep past the clouds of sand whipped up by vicious winds, he managed to spot the creature deep within the desert. Metal could be seen. Pressure, likely from this other legendary was present. Spit wet the sand. No man-made creature deserved the same title as his brethren. Regardless, as it was likely mentally deranged, Keldeo felt slightly responsible for dealing with it. Within his bag, in a dark green folders, were all the identifying characteristics he had been given. It was marked as ‘highly dangerous’.
He had every intention of facing it anyway; he had faced down Kyurem (“the savage goddess”) and managed to reach a compromise. The incredulous-nature of what he was about to do, for a group of monkeys, drew a sign from deep For all their disrespect, cruelty, and atheism, Keldeo still risked his life for humanity. Maybe I really am, at my core, a stubborn, stupid, idiot. . The musketeer shook his head, at himself, in silent scolding.
This creature was dangerous. On the low ground, with acute visibility for miles, it would be difficult to approach. Keldeo, unsure of its sense of smell, decided to travel out of its range. The wind would make certain any odor giving away his scent was left undetected. That did little to counter the miles worth of unimpeded visibility. Keldeo made use of those. He had no weapons visible. Head held high, hair flying behind him like the banner from a horse, Keldeo moved toward the metal insect and his companion.
As he approached, beginning to feel the influence of Genesect, the musketeer gave pause. Nostrils flared. The hair on his arms stood on end. The teal eyes darkened slightly; nothing else about them changed. The slightest hint of distaste, along with the slightest bit of pity , were visible in his eyes. The ground beneath him hummed. Water still existed in a place such as this. Keldeo, while seemingly relaxed, was tense and prepared for battle.
The man drew up short. When he spoke, in the language of all who called themselves Pokemon, his voice was frank, flat, and cautionary. The city, far off in the distance, was only visible as the slightest smudge. “I would go no further, ‘god’ of man. The humans are rather eager with their guns and weapons as of late. If it is heralds for which you wish for, with trumpets, that shall not happen.” Above, circling like a vulture, a powerful Druddigon flew. His eyes, bright and usually full of good mirth, were hard and steely. The article had not been overly kind to Genesect. The static was not helping matters. Ears, now elongated and coated in tawny fur, seemed to twitch: “You are exposed in this place—which has its strategic advantages.” What sort of monster was among them upon these dunes? Toes tightened in the dirt. [/align]
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Post by Genesect on Nov 8, 2013 19:47:19 GMT -5
"Hm?"
Well, that was curious. Feeling a 'flutter' at the periphery of his vision, the Scizor turned to his left, staring down at the horizon towards the city. He held a claw up, to cast shade over his eyes as he looked towards the sun, squinting his eyes out to the distance. From here, at this early point, all he could really make out was some bird-thing flying up towards the sky. "Tch. Probably a vulture, waiting for us to keel over in this heat..."
"Overreaction." With a whir, his head turned slightly, looking at the Scizor behind him from the corner of his red, glowing eye. "Do not forget, we're looking for Flare. She'll not be far."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll keep my eyes open." And, for a little while longer, the walk would still come unimpeded. It was a tedious trek through this area, but boring meant safe, a rarity in other parts of the wild. As it just so happened, however, they weren't the only duo traveling in the desert. It was only a matter of time, after all, before Genesect would check in the direction the 'human' happened to be approaching by.
"... Blade. Halt."
"Huh?" A bit startled, the Scizor looked towards Genesect, who pointed a claw off to the distance. Turning his head, the lesser bug spotted some human figure approaching them. "What, is he more insane than we are?"
"Do not engage. Not yet." Having Blade keep an eye on the human, Genesect glanced up, seeing another Pokemon circle overhead. Instinctively, the drive on his cannon glowed an icy blue, selecting the most appropriate beam that would be needed to fight a dragon. Eventually, the human would approach close enough to be able to talk.
The words, however, were surprising. He spoke of humans (weird, how he would reference his own species in such a way!), and how they would view him with distaste. If that weren't enough, the tone of language was not of a human tongue. This was enough to confuse the Scizor: arms crossed, the metal claws tapped to each-other. He spoke, chuckling over his own words:"You know, you really shouldn't be so keen on trying our words, kid. Really, you sound like the most arrogant wannabe Pokemon-"
"You, too, mask yourself? Legendary?" Computer immediately whirring to a conclusion, the pieces fell together. Of course, he couldn't determine which species this man was, but it was enough to make the Genesect serious, eyes glowing a deep crimson. His unique aura of 'download' kicked in, though with Keldeo's defensive skills similar, it was left to a 'flip of a coin' as to which asset would be improved: in this case, it was his energy attacks.
"Whoa, a legendary? This righteous idiot?" The Scizor grinned, claws glowing with dark energy. "This should be interesting, then-"
"Watch the sky."
Genesect wasted no time in setting his guard: his cannon clicked into place, aimed straight for the 'human' figure. In the next instant, a torrent of ice energy poured out of his cannon in a powerful beam, straight for the figure!
Show me who you are... legendary!
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Post by Keldeo "Keenan Valero" on Nov 22, 2013 1:14:38 GMT -5
Why couldn’t the clouds just stay still? T
he dragon,known by Claudius, spent centuries practicing flying with some semblance of stealth. Sadly, as he had no Mareep dozing in peaceful fields, the red-scaled beast felt all of his skills were rather useless. Why did they choose to follow this other god? The large reptile would have preferred, instead of sneaking about like some sort of stalker, a herald to announce their present. Would it not be easier to just talk to the thing in the distance? From his perch, while he could hear bits of conversation, the dragon could not identify its source. For a few moments longer, as he truly did wish to capture some juicy tidbits, the creature rose a bit higher.
The dark eyes stayed focused mainly on the pair. His mind would feel a familiar aura when his master had chosen to summon him. With nothing but clouds, some old trees, and a somewhat intelligent cockroach to entertain him, the knight allowed himself to compose some rudimentary poetry. His stomach seemed to be in control; the lines were composed of references to farm animals. If the ears below had been just a bit sharper, paying attention to him instead of Keldeo, they might have heard belly begin to grumble. Master Keldeo will have this fixed quite soon .. The Druddigon truly hated to fight on an empty belly. Not even the quietest whisper prodded at his mind.
Claudius, realizing he had been spotted, drew up to his full position. Blood-red wings beat against the sky in silence. He did not threaten anyone. The poetry vanished; while he ahd been rhyming, gaze on the two insects, Claudius had maintained an air of seriousness. When the human-creation turned toward his master, waving its cannon, “Oh dear knight, here we go, do what you do best. . .” The ice beam erupted from the Genesect. The dragon winced. It was never a bit of fun to be frozen. His master, as he always did, had likely expected conflict. Hopefully, in this desert, he had packed his winter clothes.
When the Scizor chose to speak, Keldeo had paused in a copse of deceased trees. Like the ribs of some forgotten corpse, branches having been stripped away by wind, spires of former alpine pointed skyward. Calloused palms faced outward in a show of peace. Ears swiveled slightly to better catch the words over the sabd. Walking forward resolutely, wavering little on his path, the goat approached Genesect head on. Three more steps and he paused again. Hands were spread wide in order to demonstrate the lack of available weapons. The Scizor received a raised eyebrow in response; could he not even distinguish between his native language and the human tongue? Keldeo lifted his head and tossed his hair from side to side; this gesture made much more sense in his native form.. Mask himself? Nostrils flared slightly with the tiniest hints of irritation. Teal eyes blinked slowly. The area was mapped out carefully in his mind. One thing being a musketeer had taught him was the following:always have an escape route. The path was planned out in his mind. Taking a deep breath, managing to keep the disdain from his voice, Keldeo enunciated: “You choose not to—or lack the ability. This poses a problem to my kin and myself. If you cannot accomplish something that simple, as Arceus gifted unto all Gods, it is an issue. I may teach you.” The redhead had learned, through much practice, to tweak and alter his human form. His mate, likely at the library in this moment, came upon him in need of such tutelage. The musketeer, while it would be begrudgingly, would offer assistant to any Pokemon in times of need.
Righteous idiot? Toes, inside their boots, began to turn cobalt. Keldeo was certain that the one displaying his attack, by waving his claws about, was the true ignoramus. Teal eyes darkened considerably; they now bordered on black. He had come for peace parleys, to assist this animal; the goat would have likely been better off negotiating with one of the infected. It was little surprise that something created by humanity would display such feral tendencies.
His breathing slowed. The attack was registered. The opponent needed to brace itself and charge its cannons. The attack likely had a lot of power behind it; the element first chosen had been the improper one. Keldeo merely allowed his body to react naturally. Jumping to the left, putting a tree between himself and Genesect, the attack whistled back. An angry noise, which was slightly reminiscent of a goat’s bleat, greeted the attack. Ice crystals fell from his clothing in little specks of white. The small burn against his nose, likely early frost bite, began to fade.
The ground started to shake as he pulled at the water beneath the earth. The sand gained the consistency of molasses ; this oddity would soon begin to surround Genesect and his companion. The dark eyes turned even steelier. His voice grew cold and introspective; he rarely shared witty banter past a fight’s beginning anymore. “Mayhap, as they have said in your case file; you are merely un bete savage (a savage beast), Genesect.” Some part of the musketeer sounded distraught. Keenan, while his soft-heart had grown armor, found little enjoyment in harming others. “I find it rather cowardly that you would attack someone seemingly unarmed as well; that is the way of humanity. I had meant thee no foul, recombinant.” To raise its claws against a true deity was unacceptable. The goat had little idea that this was a quest to unveil his identity; that would have been It was against the natural order. While he hated the humans himself, excluding those such as many women and children, Keldeo trusted that they had some worth. The teal eyes began to glow again as Keldeo moved from his hiding place toward the two Pokemon once again.
A telekinetic message prompted the older dragon to throw his weight into the battle. The Scizor had not been forgotten. With a roaring cry, baring dagger-like teeth, the Druddigon drove down towards the earth. Fire, toxic green in color, emerged from his mouth.
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Post by Genesect on Nov 25, 2013 21:55:28 GMT -5
Scanning...
Genesect, now in its 'battle' mentality, wasted no time analyzing every facet of the battle from here-on-in. Yes, as the Keldeo guessed, the insect was acting, at least in part, like a savage beast: its original programming gave it distaste for humans which used Pokemon to battle. However, there was more to it than that, a true anger rising from the psuedo-legendary's own feelings. This arrogant figure wanted him to wear the mask of a human, and to be brought to peace with the human settlement? Such an offer was insulting to him!
"Legendary... armament meaningless." With a brief glance downwards at the discolored dirt, the drive on Genesect's cannon changed from a light blue to a dark yellow, settling on his electric drive for this fight. "Remove mask. State alliance. Or prepare to defend yourself." Indeed, he found this unnamed man's actions cowardly in itself. Briefly, the machine braced its arms next to each-other, an incredible heat radiating from its body as it prepared its flame charge, for the sole purpose of turning the thick constitution of mud built up around it back into hard, dry, unforgiving sand, a veil of steam rising to be quickly blown away in the dry, desert wind.
"Tch."
Meanwhile, Blade had his own little crisis to deal with. What was with this odd, flying Druggidon? Either way, an odd color of fire was shot towards his direction, and the Scizor, facing down its only weak element, didn't like that idea too much. However, it did provide a slight opening: after all, how was the dragon going to see him through the flame?
Careful, now...
Holding a claw near its side, the Scizor rotated its arm, much like winding up a punch. It quickly built up speed, and, with a quick jab upward... it would appear that nothing happened, except for a grin on the Scizor's face. For, as soon as the invisible vacuum wave hit the flames, the fire would be pulled into the vortex, strewn about in random directions, as the invisible force pulled in the fire, aimed right towards the center of the flames, towards the Druggidon's open mouth!
"Take that, you stupid fire-breather!""
Well, that fight seemed inevitable. However, with Genesect's vicious red eyes staring towards the tree Keldeo was hiding behind, Genesect still surrounded in his orange fire, this pair was kept at a standoff. In any sense, a confrontation between the two seemed likely... if not inevitable.
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Post by Keldeo "Keenan Valero" on Dec 1, 2013 1:32:29 GMT -5
Keldeo had fought for disenfranchised humans. His friends had died for them in pitched battle. First and foremost, while he wore the guise of one of the primates, the legendary considered himself a Pokemon. . The human form was merely a convenience. It stopped those he protected, when they happened to be human, from capturing him, He also gained use of fingertips; whether he used them for holding weapons, gently caressing, or drinking, depended entirely on the mood.
His kind were meant to be secret. Genesect posed a danger to the purposely built veil of secrecy. The gods were meant to watch on in silence; their intervention was only requested, likely by Arceus, in the most severe of circumstances. Pravus had offered a large tub of money to Keldeo for this task. The urge to protect his family, from both this interloper’s ignorance and himself, far outweighed the monetary benefits. If this metal-creature ended up infected, which was possible anywhere blood could be found, dangers would spread beyond a simple cover-up.
Thinking. Breathing slowed as Keldeo debated on his path; fighting, if a compromise could be reached, was the less preferable Planning. Tactics, from Pokemon and human scholars alike, played in his mind. The tree behind him, a dried out husk, could be of use. No pulse beat inside of it. The tree was no more alive than the kitchen table in his main foyer. Teal eyes closed as he waited for the mud to take effect. The liquid had spread below what had once been a large spruce tree. The area around its roots began to crumble as the behemoth piece of foliage fought for liberty. The groan it gave, as the ground shifted around it, was partially disguised by the advent of steam.
The goat felt the water vanish. The dissolved water hovered close to the ground for a . The little rivulets vanished; the liquid resumed its normal pathway beneath the parched soil. While he could likely trap the creature, or at least its cannon, in sand, the water-type refrained himself. The process was far from simple.
Trailing fingers across the tree, eyes still glowing, Keldeo moved himself from behind the ancient tree. His voice seemed more frustrated than riled;. “I would much rather speak then destroy, Genesect. I have spent centuries in the constant grip of warfare, strife, and death; I find myself growing tired of it. It is humans who prefer meaningless battles.” Training, practicing, and testing were far different disciplines from warfare. Keldeo had tasted the blood of another upon his tongue; held the hands of a gutted soldier, regardless of species, as they passed into the embrace of Yveltal. This human-creation was young. It was stupid. It was a foolhardy being.
Lips pulled downward into a pronounced frown. This tin-can was ordering him to dress-down? Had he never learned to use proper manners? The stereotypical sneer flickered into being. He felt himself higher than this man-made charade; he would do nothing under its orders without making it clear he operated under its own volition. The hot-headed part of the water-type, dulled through centuries of training, truly desired to teach Genesect a lesson. The simplest of computers could define the word ‘please’. The electricity crackling in that cannon made red-hair stand on its end. His arms looked like some sort of ginger-haired porcupine. T“I am allied with the just, courageous, and chivalrous. Pokemon come before all others “ Teal eyes were still lost beneath a cerulean curtain. “If you had merely asked me to remove this form, instead of ordering me like some sort of human dog I would have gladly honored said request.” The tracking device inserted into his pocket had already short-circuited.
“Regardless, if it shall make you more comfortable young-one, I shall do as you requested.” Forehead shifted and rippled. Hair receded away from the pointed-tips of his hair. Human skin-tone slowly shifted into something cream. Toes bent and curled within boots. The leather vanished. Nails hardened into cobalt. Human legs vanished to be replaced with those of a satyr. Three spade-shaped stones appeared directly above his left eyebrow. One was orange. One was green. One was a bright teal. A sword seemed to materialize from the air. Its blade ran with four colors.
He had dealt with far worse than overgrown steel-insects. The cannon was a momentary inconvenience. He had far more than mud, tucked into his human-sleeves. “You may refer to me as Keenan.”
The Druddigon watched as his flames behaved oddly. The element of surprise had been his hope in the initial attack. Nostrils flared as the flames twisted into a backwards pyramid. His jaw began to close. When things began to run in funny directions, such as rivers twisting the wrong way when a certain goat approached, Claudius knew to watch himself. Fire lit up inside his mouth; being dragon-typed, like himself, the process hurt, With a booming roar, spitting blood from his mouth, the attack stopped. Wings spread to scatter the flames. His muzzle parted in a smile. It was not a gesture of friendship; the accompanying laughter was not friendly. “Touché, little-bug.” With a powerful thrust forward, spikes pointed outward, he moved to grapple with the Scizor. Flames lit up the inside of his mouth. Dagger like teeth, which were extensions of his hide, glinted in the sun.
Druddigon used Rock Climb! Druddigon used Fire Fang!
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Post by Genesect on Dec 3, 2013 22:20:20 GMT -5
"Up for more, huh?" As Blade saw his attack hit home, the Scizor braced himself once more, a vicious grin on his face as he looked towards the opposing Pokemon. The 'little bug' had to hand it to the Druddigon: he had more of a spine than most of the things he had an opportunity to fight. Still, the damage was apparent, the red teeth of that toothy smile testament to that.
However, as long as the dragon was flying, all Blade could do was throw up Vacuum Waves- "Eh?"
Was it diving down straight towards him? Seeing this change of pace, the Scizor's grin widened, egging the dragon on, intently staring him down as he made his approach. "Come on!" If he wanted a close-range fight, even with fire churning in the dragon's fangs, Blade was all for it. After all, he was a physical attacker, and could really push the damage in this way! As the dragon lowered, the Scizor would charge forth, quickly stepping in, letting the spikes scrape against its right arm. A wild look entered the Scizor's face, his right fist glowing white, to try and drive it straight for the center of the dragon's chest:
Bullet Punch!
Quickly following it up, its head would glow white: regardless of the first impact, he would drive himself closer with an Iron Head to keep the pressure, and to try and literally grapple this dragon!
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He uses... odd amount... of caution...
More than anything, the pause that this disguised legendary took surprised Genesect more than anything else. The expression in Keldeo's eyes didn't show fear... if anything, it was still that aggravating look of pity. However, he seemed intent on staying close to that tree, the steam soon dissipating up around the insect as fire forced it to the surface. It was still too dangerous to approach or make risks, but each word that this human made was aggravating his programming further, Genesect clearly on edge, unable to calm himself after seeing this 'trainer' direct a dragon.
To his surprise, and initial delight, the Genesect nodded at Keldeo's compliance, the Flame Charge around his body calming, red light flickering away from his eyes. The transformation process was noted, each second carefully scanned by Genesect's processors, quickly figuring out the identity of this...
What?
Keldeo.
The form was unmistakable... but why? Why did it have to be a Musketeer, an example of those who despise humans, standing before him? If Virizion stood as an example, then Keldeo was indeed a traitor to his own kind. How dare he speak of justice, not only taking the guise of a human, but working for them! Before, Genesect had been fighting out of defense and curiosity, but upon this discovery, a different tone entered his eyes altogether:
Rage. The cannon sparked, aimed deliberately for the satyr, a torrent of electricity pouring from his cannon, Genesect's nails leaving an impact in the dirt as the force attempted to throw the heavy bug backwards. This Techno Boost was aimed dead-on for Keldeo!
"Traitor."
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Post by Keldeo "Keenan Valero" on Dec 9, 2013 7:16:14 GMT -5
The dragon began to laugh. Blood, like crimson rain, dripped downward. He had bitten into Mareep with harder wool! The blisters appearing along his gums, due to heat, were little inconvenience; Claudius would just resign himself to a cooler-diet in the next few weeks. Trained in battle, nearing his fifth-century, the Druddigon enjoyed a fight. Many opponents shied away from the elderly-reptile. “Of course I am, dear insect! I am a musketeer—we do little if not all of it in excess!” The old joke, something of a sticking point between the scaled-being and his master, likely went unnoticed in the turmoil.
Spikes, like those of a cactus, aimed to catch in metal scales and do damage; this particular Druddigon, had been gifted with the ability rough-skin. Regardless of what many of his egg-mates had said, likely to injure his pride, this was not due to his father being a Cacturne. His mother, as far as Claudius was aware, had never eaten a salad—much less taken to nest with one. Wings continued to flap behind him. Flaming teeth looked for an opening as he chewed and thrashed at the sheet of crimson-metal before him.
Claws reached out in an attempt to grab the arm; his wings pulled up as he pitched wildly to the side. Exercise upon exercise, as Keldeo was far from an easy mentor, had allowed him some semblance of a ballerina’s grace in the air.. The flames began to grow hotter as the jovial reptile became entranced with the heat-of-battle; with the Scizor close enough, in what seemed to be a hug, it would be difficult for the insect to push any sort of physical attack.
Instead of backing away from the head-butt, allowing the bug any sort of advantage in terms of distance, the Druddigon mimicked the attack. Metal rippled along the mountains and valleys that dominated his cranium. He thrust forward to meet the attack with a clang. Light flashed in his eyes as he attempted to restrain the annoying little pest. “Come, my friend, do you wish to dance or battle—we can do either.” The deadly smirk that followed, displaying broken teeth, was accompanied with a sudden burst of flame.
Claudius dodged bullet-punch! The Druddigon defended itself with iron-head; damage was taken. The elder musketeer responded with heat wave!
Past the point of diplomacy, displaying his draconic temper, the reptile was having fun.
Steady as the maiden goes; we shall watch Genesect and not respond with violence unless necessary. Humans could not dictate that, like a slobbering animal, he attack another without provocation. The steel-insect had likely done little injustice upon his jaunt.
Keldeo had been shot. Weapons shoved through practically each and every orifice; the feeling of a dagger between the ribs was far from pleasant. Singed fur was a smell able to upturn the hardiest of stomachs. Centuries had trained the youngest musketeer to use caution, subtlety, and mitigation in place of blindly attacking. The best fighter was subject to luck, trickery, and deceit. The newly-born legendary had yet to elarn these facts. Genesect was little more than colt; albeit, unlike the handsome goat, he was an unlikely candidate for adoption.
Virizion was an old fool. She refused to look past the wilderness. While humans had many faults, especially those black of heart, Keldeo could acclimate to their society. Their work had to be done with some degree of cooperation in mind.
Pravus was a race of despicable, greedy, and over-powered apes. Ensconced within their laboratories, picking his work like a ripe fruit from a sickly tree, Keldeo had made a lot of progress for his kind. It had been he, seeing the feline trapped within the cage, reporting the capture of Zephryne. The teal eyes, now darker than tar as they stared at Genesect, had laid eyes upon Articuno’s broken form within a nearby cell. He watched. He waited. He planned. Standing upon the parched dirt, tree to his back, the legendary had done the same.
The single word, exhaled in an awe-inspiring show of anger, drew a torrent of emotions from within the goat. His challenge, a defiant bleat, echoed around the area. Human nostrils pulled back and shifted; cream fur covered his body. The humanoid form rippled, shifted, and contracted. Powerful and compact hooves took place of fragile human feet. Keldeo felt power roll through his smaller-limbs. The invisible rivers beneath him seemed to sing with joy.
“Non! I am no traitor, Genesect! “ He did not care that the attack surged toward him. Keldeo saw little more than red. “I protect us and our own in a differing way from your own---I do not blindly attack that which is different.” The medallions on his head began to glow. First cerulean, the sign of Cobalion lit up, with a rumble of earth, the orange sliver followed. The green light, whch was no different from the others, soon joined it.
His temper had gotten the better of the diplomat. Much more like his hair than his serene eement, the mammalian deity snapped when pushed to far. The word ‘traitor’, reserved for those he left cursed and punished, pushed the smaller god over the edge.
Teal eyes turned bright blue. A protect flared up in front of him. Like a medieval shield facing a cheap sword, albeit one made of energy, the beam bounced away in what seemed to be a harmless energy. Keldeo would not, after that moment, make use of his defenses again—he did not hide beneath maiden’s skirts. The techno-blast slammed into the weakened tree. Flames flickered in the dried wood.
The old behemoth of the forest groaned.
The goat multiplied. The illusion, which happened to be a double-team, left Genesect facing six of the goat. In a show of speed, which he was infamous for, Keldeo launched himself at Genesect. The ground beneath his feet exploded into mud.
Keldeo used Aqua Jet! He would merely get close and disarm that cannon; it was a simple matter of distraction and surprise. The bug seemed little threat without his long-range artillery. Keldeo was sometimes known for getting himself into stickier situations.
The tree began to teeter.
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Post by Genesect on Dec 17, 2013 20:39:21 GMT -5
"Then bring it on, Dragon!" As opposed to the two Legendaries having their deep, personal qualms with each-other, Blade was falling into more of a euphoric state, something that he was feeling from the dragon as well. This fight... well, it was a good fight. The Scizor wasn't naive enough to believe that this little skirmish they were having was going to have a true effect on a fight against ticked off gods. If that was the case, and nothing was truly on the line, he could simply be his wild self as they approached in close range.
As Blade's claw brushed over the Druddigon's rough skin, he gritted his teeth and braced himself for further irritation. At this range, there was no true escape from the dragon's claws, the Scizor forced to keep his knees bent and body low to stay away from the fierce fire fangs. It was, however, difficult to prevent the claws coming from behind, gripping behind the metal insect's back in a grapple. And, before his fist would come into range, the Druddigon's skull came into range: gritting his teeth, he met the challenge head on, skull against skull in a deep, rattling headbutt that rang through their ears!
"You tell me, partner. You found me adorable enough to hug." Grinning, the Scizor fearlessly stepped in, to try and reach his own arms around the Druddigon. Briefly, the flames washed over his chest, the damage sinking into his frame, wings quickly beginning to singe behind him. But, he wasn't going to go down lightly! Bracing all of his weight to his shoulders, the metal bug would grunt, and, if allowed, would pick Druddigon straight off the ground!
"Hyuaaaaaaagh!
Superpower! With this sudden, unusual burst of strength, the Scizor's muscle burned, to try and lift the dragon, and throw it to the side, to land straight on its head. Its wings wouldn't be of use, if the beast wasn't properly oriented!
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The time for words in this confrontation were over. Genesect had saw Keldeo for what the colt truly was, and would not so quickly forgive what he felt in his heart. He looked on, seeing his electrical attack split under the force of Keldeo's protect, throwing up a veil of dust and sand back into the air. As the dust settled, multiple copies of Keldeo's true form stood before him, the fierce light of battle alight in each of their eyes as they charged, in all directions, towards the metal monster.
"Scatter."
In the next instant, Genesect brought his claws close to his chest, crossing them as if to 'brace' himself. The machine's eyes glowed a fierce red, a dark aura building up around his entire body, until he was nothing more than a black insect with red eyes. With a deep sound, like striking a gong, the energy took a spherical shape, and exploded out in all directions, irradiating all six of the Keldeo's with the explosive energy of Dark Pulse. If it worked (and it should, with the Keldeos so quickly charging him), the energy would dissipate the clones and, at the very least, slow down the original, if not outright throw him back from the explosion!
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Post by Keldeo "Keenan Valero" on Dec 20, 2013 4:39:25 GMT -5
The pair had formed a connection! The last time the Druddigon felt this giddy, facing a female of his own species, had been eerily similar. Then again, in that case, he had just received a few bite marks; the highly-endangered species had been left to find its savior in another place.
The Scizor was a bit more accommodating. He at least, when spoken to, responded—snarling, in the case of the fairer dragon, truly did not count. Chuckling again, feeling his veins practically singing, Claudius roared his laughter skyward. “I certainly shall, my dear cockroach.” This battle, unlike the one below, had little effect on the world at large. The pain of one old reptile, or one metal bug, would not tear the Earth from its axis. Besides, knowing his master, the goat would rather dine upon humble pie than request an underling’s assistance. It was rare for him to battle; he spent most of his time, as it was the only room which felt like home, living in a basement. Cement on four walls, sky seen through a tiny slit, and carpeting were not the home of a feared dragon. It was the skies! It was battle!
Muscles tensed and pushed in an attempt to dig those damnable spikes in deeper; his own palms, which were surprisingly soft, had felt his own skin a few times. In fact, while Claudius’ snout differed a bit from that of a Scizor, he wagered his expression had also resembled a man sucking upon a rotted lemon. If driven into a seam in that armor, of which there were many, it would likely do a fair bit of damage. Besides scraping steel, and drawing gritted teeth, he missed his mark. Oh well! There was next time! The head spikes, which served in part to protect his cranium, met the Scizor head on. His head spun. He felt his wings stiffen and jerk for a minute. Blood, from a tiny broken spike, trailed into his left eye. Smoke erupted from the left nostril.
“I do! I had a Ledian friend like you once! I played with him until the sun set.” Claudius was actually a bit huskier around the middle; most of it was muscle, some of it came from too many late-night snacks of chips and fizzy things. The claws barely met on the other side. The flames continued for as long as he could manage; like a spigot turned to the off position, pipes strangled, the flames died. The claws unlocked and Claudius found himself flying; the ground was quickly approaching. He managed, using a twister, to better turn himself; he did not want his neck broken for a bit of sport after all. His story was cut off as his snout smashed into the ground. He picked himself back up rather quickly; wing beats threw the dust away from him.
He brushed blood from his arms and shook his head free. His eyes glowed cerulean and each injury lit up the same color. Letting out a roar, charging forward, he aimed to take revenge on the Scizor.
Keldeo had made certain to move behind the insect. He allowed his hooves to do their job as he flew toward the steel insect. His body was a blur. His heart sang with anger. How dare this beast accuse him of betrayal! The young colt was the savior from within—the one who aimed to truly help his brethren. The clones, twelve in all, briefly looked at the attack. Two of them ground to a halt.
“Certainly, like leaves into the wind . .” Keldeo’s voice emanated from all of the mouths at once. He had perfected the art of double team after centuries; there were all sorts of tells, such as poor ventriloquism, which could ruin its illusion.
Eight quickly disappated and faded into the dust; the dark attack bounced off the ground. The two left, the first only a foot or two from Genesect, moved to strike. In front, horn blazing, Keldeo swung with Sacred Sword. This one faded as, like black snow, the attack fell upon his muscular haunches. Regardless, like many humans used faithful soldiers, the clone had perished and done its job.
This beast was far more dangerous, or seemingly so, at a distance. Close combat was where Keldeo felt his expertise lay.
Gravity allowed him to keep falling, using his hooves to help, as he braced after the explosion; the building of that sphere had allowed time to briefly plan. The smell of burnt fur became apparent. Keldeo bit back a noise as the attack slammed into a patch of back unprotected by his mane; it left a star-shaped mark on his fur. His horn glowed as he flipped. Water, four streams, cooperated to lift him from the ground. He rarely found, with his other abilities that his small size was any sort of disadvantage. Keenan enjoyed being able to tangle up the feet of giants and colossus. It amused him greatly.
Sacred sword! He aimed to clip the top of the cannon from the creatures back. At the same time, eyes turned to briefly face the tree. The most powerful weapon of the musketeers, wielded only by those who had taken justice into their hearts, would easily match this tin cannon. It would not be the first such creature he had dismantled.
This may be, with a similar façade, the fate of Marcellus in years to come. The hated face of his accursed, who made his muzzle twitch, gave power to his next move. It was hard, even as he aimed to destroy Genesect, to despise the creature. It knew nothing more than human laboratories, pain, and the words of a wizened old gazelle.
Timber! The old spruce began to crack and fall. Was it dangerous for the goat? Yes. Keldeo was not known, when the risk was worth the reward, for taking things easy.
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