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Post by Diana Atheiah [Dialga] on Nov 27, 2013 22:26:35 GMT -5
| | Primal Dialga
Diana Atheiah
It moved as if in slow motion. The brilliantly white plate twisted through the air, contents spilling onto the tiled floor below. No move was made to catch it, the hands that had released it were fisted tightly, nails biting into soft flesh. The only indication that the world was still moving was the free-falling plate as it drew nearer and nearer to the solid surface below. As its summersaulting trajectory came to a sudden halt, a shattering sound echoed through the silent house. Darker colored cracks, clear as day upon the plate's surface shot up the length of the dish-ware, until they burst through the opposite side, reducing the plate to fragmented pieces.
And much like the plate, she broke.
It came like an arrow through the heart. Before any sane part of Diana's mind could react, the sudden pin-prick disturbance caused a change within her. It was as though someone had cut the rope holding a heavy gate: it crashed down around her with such force that the plate she had been part way through clearing into the garbage dropped from her hands, powerless against the force of gravity. As though the sound of the shattered plate snapped her out of her reverie, her knees buckled and she collapsed.
She had no time to react. Even before her hands made contact with the cold tile below, her eyes were a poisonous orange. Fangs pricked at the inside of her mouth as her teeth elongated, sharpened, an inhuman sound vibrating from deep within her throat. Nails scraped against the floor for the briefest of moments as orange lines seemed to bloom into existence all across her pale skin. It made the black haired woman appear sickly, alien: like she didn't belong on this planet at all.
And then she was gone.
~~~ The grove was peaceful, with various Pokemon dotting the scenery. Soft mist twisted through the air as it was pushed gently by the wind. Leaves shifted slightly in the breeze, branches bowing and bending as they held onto the bizarre fruit that seemed to coat all of the trees and bushes in the area. It seemed to be the perfect place of serenity, with nothing to disturb the wild setting that had taken over the area over the years. There was no indication what so ever, no warning leading up to the events that would soon be taking place in the very same grove.
One moment, there was an empty clearing. The next, a great beast, towering over seventeen feet, straightened, head lifting towards the sky. Dark blue scales provided a perfect background for the glowing orange path that twisted its way over the creature's body. All around it, the wild Pokemon scattered, as though sensing there was something about this that wasn't right. At first glance, one might label the beast as Dialga. But those who did would only be partially correct. Though this beast resembled Dialga in everything physical except coloring, their minds were about as similar as night and day.
The cry that broke the silence was caught somewhere between a roar and a hiss, ringing with something ethereal, other-worldly. Orange eyes narrowed and scanned the area, a heavy growling coming from the creature as it hissed in a barely coherent voice. "Where... Isssss... It..." It was obvious the God was searching for something, though whatever it was seemed to be just out of reach. The next sound to escape it was one of pure annoyance as a heavy, tri-clawed foot took a single step forward. A thick tail lashed behind it, threatening to take out anything that dared come too close.Orange eyes snapped closed suddenly, and for a moment, all movement from the beast ceased. It was as though it had been frozen in Time. The truth was, it was searching the area further. Nothing could escape it, not when it involved a breach in the fabric of Time. Even the tiniest of holes... It would be found. Orange eyes shot open as a familiar feeling darted through its chest, another sharp hiss escaping the beast's throat. It swung its head to the side, eyes immediately focusing upon an area just to the left of where it was standing.Upon first glance, there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary with the particular area. Upon closer inspection, however, the trained eye, could spot the slight shimmer, the waver that gave away the location of the hole the beast had been searching for. Power seemed to leak from the beast, reaching towards the gap. Though it looked like nothing, the moment it sensed the incoming power, the hole's side seemed to peel back slightly, revealing the area in which the disturbance had manifested. An orange aura became visible around the creature, its gaze focused solely upon the rip before it.Though no action appeared to be taken, the beast was examining the rip, searching it to find what could be causing it, and how one might go about fixing it. The orange aura that radiated around it seemed to be reflected in the stone in the center of its mighty chest plate. The glow grew stronger and stronger, pulsating slowly as it gathered power, preparing to act. In a manner similar to how a Pokemon may charge its Solar Beam, the great beast was storing energy, waiting for the ideal moment to strike.And then, with a surge, it was released.The force behind the surge acted much like a zipper might. Starting at the very end of the hole, it began to snap closed, shutting up as though it had never existed. The closing motion ran the length of the rip, a rapid, somewhat harsh sweep that would effectively cause anyone within to flee towards the entrance, or risk being rather painfully forced there as the rip began to shut down and crumble away, leaving no trace of its previous existence. And all the while, the beast waited, a fierce glow in its orange eyes, waiting to catch sight of who had been the cause of the rip. Destroy. |
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Post by Celebi "Davy T. Tock" on Nov 30, 2013 1:17:14 GMT -5
God wanted a certain object retrieved. It had fallen through a hole in time, likely a small tear, and crash-landed in this place. To be honest, spending most of his day on fun and firation, the little fairy had put little effort into his mission. The psychic-type had spend most of alone0-time thinking up excuses to avoid such work. Celebi could not heavy-hand his way into the shrine dedicated to the futuristic device. Stealing their newfound god could potentially obliterate this newly found group of peoples. Celebi had been integrating himself into their community; it had taken nearly a week before he was allowed to eat without suffocating supervision.
No skyscrapers had been built. Fire was a recent discovery. People still dressed in badly cured animal skins. Unless this was some sort of theme park, which really got into character, this tropical realm was not part of the modern world. It was a place of fighting for survival, little technology, and deadly heat.
The foliage, which was vibrant and full of life, managed to make up for most of the negatives. The mosquitoes, pesky little witches that they were, seemed to enjoy the taste of a god’s blood. The wound on his left arm, dripping maroon, appeared to be the work of the world’s largest parasite; in a less fanciful world, such as this one, it was the result of a roughly hewed spearhead. Luckily, as it was a rock (and he was a god of time), Celebi had little need to fear tetanus. Neither of those things stopped the injury from hurting; antagonizing the strange native had been a bad idea.
Pain.
Light flashed across keen vision.
Long fingers broke the blade off in his arms. The end of a large weapon dropped into the grass.
Knees collapsed into dead leaves. A lizard crawled its way across his exposed skin.
The fairy’s human form rapidly collapsed. His skin turned green. His clothing vanished. Light blue eyes seemed to swell in his face. His nose vanished. Skull elongating, hair twisting into plant fibers, as he regained his natural form. Wings burst out among human bones and flesh. The transformation, unlike the burning tear in his shoulder, was painless. The human behind him seemed more disturbed by it than the time-god. Celebi took his opportunity to flee.
Why did a god run? Davy was quite certain he could destroy the village with a thought; he could make trees grow at a far quicker rate than usually possible. The entire area could be buried beneath roots. Hundreds of people would die.You can’t just run around hurting all the natives that give you a boo-boo. That thought helped little with the agony shooting down his left side.
Arceus save me now—stupid goat. Flipping over a tree branch, thin wings casting patterns of light onto formerly dark branches, Celebi offered up a silent prayer. A spear flew past his head. Its frail length, which likely had little flexibility in its handle, shattered. The resulting clatter, which sounded like a thunder clap, was difficult to ignore. The further he grew from the village, leaving the device behind, the greater the pain in his head grew. It felt as if the native had taken a chisel to his skull. He could not just vanish in front of such a primitive person; Arceus disliked when his meddling created entirely unknown religions.
The headache intensified.
With a screech, a screen of vines appeared behind him. Celebi moved forward. He did not see the gap between the branches. He heard the whistling. Light blue eyes, reflecting nervousness and the stormy clouds above, turned to look at the sudden noise. Hummingbird like wings twisted to turn him to face it. His curious streak had likely gotten him in trouble. He could not resist a good-natured bit of complaining. I really do not care that these lovely prehistoric people have some unneeded piece of technology. I would just prefer not to be dead, Father.. The wooden stick was just a few inches from his nose. Time bent and twisted. The spear vanished into the unknown.
Davy had no time for calculations. He had no times for rules. He was in pain. The future, looking like a kaleidoscope of rainbows and possibilities, opened its arms.. Celebi stumbled into it. He had little care for being careful. The use of mathematics to stumble around in time, with a head like an angry war drum, would likely end in an even stickier situation.
Besides, outside of this little temporal hell, the rest of time had doctors. He was in no mood for shamans beating him over the head with ancient sticks.
Time tore and twisted/ The entrance lacked its usual grace; he did not fall from the sky like some sort of deified-Marry Poppins. Instead, like a Magikarp outside of the ocean, Davy flopped limply into the current time line. His wings were dripping with blood. Dark-green fingertips were tainted the color of rust.
When he looked up, blinking wearily, he found himself staring into a golden light. A screen of defense, cerulean in color, flickered into place around him. Celebi wheezed. His human form steadily reappeared. Unable to maintain it in its entirety, without some mental effort, the fairy settled in between the two forms. The wings were visible.
He sensed an ancient presence. The headache seemed to have vanished.
Dark blue. Orange. Anger. Celebi sensed those things within moments. He whimpered and moved to stand. Human clothes steadily reformed. Gulping nervously, extending a hand to cover the tear, Davy waved. The tear in time began to drift loosely in the breeze. Bloody hand tried to hide it. The green-haired god was quite aware this creature was not the usual form of his loveliest relative. “Hello Auntie Di~! It’s been quite some time; which is a purposely vague measure. . .” Nervous laughter forced its way out. He took a few steps toward Dialga. Why did you bring me here, Father? Do you truly despise my fun that much? The shield had not dropped. "You would not believe how my afternoon's been going, my dear!"
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Post by Diana Atheiah [Dialga] on Dec 12, 2013 23:29:44 GMT -5
| | Primal Dialga
Diana Atheiah
Burning orange eyes watched in silence as the other Legendary flopped to the ground from within the once invisible tear. There was no recognition in those blazing orange eyes, no sign of familiarity. Where Diana might have showed concern at the amount of blood that could be seen coating the smaller Legendary, there was no such emotion upon this creature's face. Nothing but anger radiated from it as it stood motionless. The orange lines that marred its dark blue scales pulsated, radiating a light of such sickening color that it was almost enough to make you feel ill just looking at the beast.Unblinking gaze caught the cerulean screen that rose into existence around Celebi. And still, the beast did not stir. Not even when Celebi's form shifted, adapting a more human-like figure, though the tell-tale wings were still visible. Not that the creature would have needed to see the wings to know exactly who it was dealing with. The aura radiating from the other Legendary was clear, and one it recognized instantly. There was only one other Legendary who had a tone similar to Celebi's in their aura, and that Legendary was Dialga. And this beast was a disconnected part of Dialga.Orange eyes drifted from Celebi to the tear that he was pathetically trying to hide. Even when he spoke, there was no reaction, no sign that the beast had even been listening to a word Celebi had had to offer. Silence followed his words. A deafening silence. For a moment, it seemed as though the only thing the beast was going to do was stare at the rip as it fluttered slightly in the breeze, revealing the damage that had been done. And then, the subtlest shift began to take hold of the environment around the great beast.It might go unnoticed by the untrained eye. But for those who paid attention, for those who could sense the shift in power... The creature began to push forth its aura. It slid forward along the ground, crawling forth with determination that seemed unfitting. It collided with the cerulean barrier, quickly rising up like a tidal wave to crash down over it, uncaring of what stood in its way. The force would not be enough to shatter the barrier, but it was likely that the contact would be felt. The aura was suffocating, dominating. It would not be deterred from the task it had been set upon.The aura reached upwards, until it reached the tear. The barely tinted, orange mist-like substance now coated a good portion of the terrain that stretched before the creature, something that could be seen in the way everything touched by it seemed just... Frozen. The grass to the left and to the right swayed and danced in the breeze that was affecting the rip in Time, and yet in front of the beast... It was utterly still, as though someone had hit pause on a movie. The blades of grass were still bent mid-sway, their motion prohibited by the aura.The beast's aura seemed to caress the rip, wrapping around it, shielding it from the breeze to render it nearly invisible once more. There was a singular moment of peace while the beast remained focused upon the rip, temporarily mended by the influx of power. And then those poisonous orange eyes were turned back towards the intruder, the cause for the wound in Time's precious skin. Dark blue jaws parted in what could only be called a snarl. "Ssss... -ilenccccce... Thou... hassst not been ques... Ssstioned. Thou shalt remain... Silenced until I hath requested that thou speaketh." The words were accompanied by a distinctive stamp of one of the tri-clawed feet. Teeth snapped together in a sound that could be perceived as nothing else except threatening. Sharp eyes narrowed suddenly as the beast took a single intimidating step forward. "What is... Thy purposssse... Why hast thou dissssturbed the harmony..." Every word that was uttered by the beast seemed as though it had to be forced from its mouth, a groaning, growling sound as though it was almost painful for the beast to speak. The words were disjointed, disconnect, alien coming from the creature.And all the while, its aura continued encircling and dominating, trapping the other Legendary in his place. |
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Post by Celebi "Davy T. Tock" on Dec 16, 2013 6:43:43 GMT -5
Orange. The gaze before him flickered like a hungry flame. Its depths, punctuated by only a tiny black dot, seemed to be without feeling or concern. In that instance, realizing he did not see gentleness in that gaze, Celebi began to fret. His stomach, which was far smaller than a human first, now felt as if it weighed a metric ton. The fact that her eyes were citrus-colored, instead of the often seemingly more dangerous crimson, only partially clued him in. Humans in this era had all sorts of odd contacts—they might have them for giant temporal-dragons too.
In truth, part of his illness and weakness, may have stemmed from the alternating lights. Was this what a videogame loving child felt before it began to convulse with seizures? Like a moth to a flickering fire, or a bug made to murder it, he found himself oddly attracted to those lines. It was as if, in the midst of a seizure, losing too much blood, and trapped by ahorrific flu, a train had crashed in front of him. Davy should have ran. This version of his elder, the one who had destroyed Alamos and many other such towns, was dangerous. He doubted he could run very far—besides, as he was just standing her like a harmless old chap—would that not just make him look guiltier?
The hands over the tear felt rather silly. The gaze before him like the statue of a judge, did not change in the slightest. There was no laughter, smile, or joy. “You could, at the very least Auntie Di, help a fellow up—it feels like some aborigine stabbed me with a hunting implement.” His smile shook like the rippling tear just behind him. It felt forced. His instincts insisted that he flee. In truth, facing something much worse than a pointy-stick, the hole in his shoulder had been pushed to the back of his consciousness. He gulped. Silence continued.
I do hate it when it gets this quiet; it reminds me of when Arceus scolds me. These were the moments the primitive people gathered their knives. The times jaws hung down as he made a large social faux-pas. The noise heard as it seemed, from a distance, that he had just mishandled the buttocks of a governor’s niece. It was not the friendly silence around a campfire or in the embrace of a friendly inn.
Dark eyes, colored with fear, flared bright blue. The shield turned solid; it was like peering into a solid sheet of blue glass. The aura, while it left cracks, did not penetrate the shield. Little orange globules, like blood splattered on a windshield, clung resolutely. The fairy, even in his humanoid form, felt himself forced backward. His shoulder, as he used his hand to support a weakened area, screeched with pain. The world swam as parts of the shield, at the bottom, began to crumble. The tear was at his back. He could feel its edges clawing—time careened by at a breakneck pace. The time-stream was a runaway locomotive.
Davy froze when it wrapped fully around him; he could feel the tendrils of power writhing behind him. Large eyes turned to stare as the rip slowly closed itself—it was a far cleaner job than what he usually did. Then again, as he had tried many times, Celebi knew he was a poor seamstress. Time stopped around them. His shoulder paused in its gushing. A single drop, like a crimson piece of rain in the air, hovered between his thigh and the ground. Davy began to gather his power. Leave now—give some tiny excuse.. The primal version of his relative began to speak. Celebi, like all of his surroundings,seemed to freeze; while the speech impediment was laughable, maybe even chuckle worthy on a good day, it seemed to chill him to the bone. The order to remain quiet, when you happened to be the fairy, was nearly impossible to obey though. “I shall try my best, Auntie. I do like to talk—like how gorgeous the color orange looks on you today. I am also a bit woozy from blood-loss. I’ll try my best to understand.—just speak a bit slower.” The wings beat nervously at the air. The slurred words would, at least, give him time to prepare.The little drop of red, sent spiraling away by the sudden gust, smashed into the screen in a miniature firework.
The gestures helped nullify any humor left within those words. The rendition of Shakespeare accents somehow felt intimidating as the ground shifted with her foot. Shaking his head, trying to explain why he had not tore a giant hole in time, Davy finally felt ready to depart. The fairy had no excuse in this century, or the next, that might mollify this beast. The pushover Dialga, who commonly played with him and was willing to chat over little-at-all, was out to lunch. “Well, you see, Auntie. . .” The pause was pronounced as he called out to time itself. He prayed to land somewhere nicer. His wings began to glow with rainbow shades. He took a deep breath. Celebi leaped—it was sometimes best to take the cowardly path.
Nothing happened. Davy felt his powers pulled away; it was if someone had put an iron curtain in front of them. The rebound, as he was shoved away from time, left an ache in each of his limbs. What do I say Primal Dialga was far from a kind mistress. Finally. As he truly had no excuses—no one could make him mishandle time.“I did not do it on purpose—someone stabbed me. It’s not [i\hat]/i] bad, anyway. “ Celebi wondered what his hide would smell like char-broiled.
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Post by Diana Atheiah [Dialga] on Jan 16, 2014 16:26:02 GMT -5
| | Primal Dialga
Diana Atheiah
It seemed impossible for those orange slits to narrow any further. Poisonous eyes glared at the being trapped beneath his shield and the smothering aura that clung around him. The beast felt no sympathy. As Celebi spoke, the words did nothing to quell the rage within the Time God. In fact, the other being of Time seemed to have avoided the question all together. There was no answer presented. But it was not wise to think that the monster had not noticed the attempted escaped. The shift had been felt. Felt and destroyed in mere moments. And Celebi remained stuck.Teeth were revealed in a stiff snarl as the words spoken were considered, and then registered. Thick tail swung to the side in an aggravated gesture as those sickly-colored eyes sprung open wide, as though they themselves had caught fire. For a moment, no words to describe the rage seemed to register. Nothing left the beast save for a very distinct growling sound. When the beast finally spoke, the words were so quiet, and such a hushed tone was used, it might seem that it did not comprehend what had just been said. Something akin to disbelief reflected in those bright eyes."Thou dossssst.... Not deny... And... Telleth me... It is... 'Not that b...-ad.'..." A faint growl ended the sentence as the beast stared down the other Legendary. All the while, it could feel its anger boiling, setting its stomach churning. Its chest was tight with anger, something that only seemed to further aggravate the great beast. It shifted restlessly as its aura slowly began to slip away from the now-mended rip. It dragged over Celebi's cracking shield, weighing heavier than it needed to, purposely pressing downwards against the pathetic defence that had been put up. But the beast could sense the barrier's weakening strength.All the while, the burning rage, and the sensation it brought seemed to climb higher and higher up the beasts throat. It didn't stop, yet the creature showed not sign that anything was changing within it at all. And all around them, Time remained still, just as far as its thick, orange aura had reached. Slowly, the beast opened its mouth and spoke in an obviously strained voice. "Not... Tha...-t... Bad..?" As the three words were brought to life, the tone became tighter and tighter, the rage clear. As the final word was reached, orange liquid filled its mouth, further distorting its voice.The orange liquid bubbled and pooled, seeped and glowed as it slipped through the cavity that it had quickly occupied. It didn't stop until it made contact with the sharp pointed teeth that were bared in a snarl. And even then, in but a moment, it leaked between those sharp spires, over what could only be called the creature's lower lip, and dripped towards the ground. Only a few scattered drops found their way from the beast's mouth, but those drops would be all that was necessary to make intentions clearer.As the thick, orange fluid made contact with the green grass below, the grass hissed and whine, burning up beneath the contact of what could only be pure magma. Suddenly, the distorted voice boomed again, feral and angered, a sound like wild thunder cracking through a silent sky. "Thou sssshalt fe...-el thine own damnationnn... May thou repent.... As thou burneth... In. Hell." With a final toss of its head, sending droplets of live magma scattering over innocent grass, jaws parted, revealing the dripping liquid as it clung to pointed teeth. From beneath the creature's tongue, a feature that was unknown to most clicked.The smallest of sparks generated by the monster's spark pouch was all that was needed to ignite the already hot magma. As the liquid caught fire and the aura snapped back, an unforgiving burst of air sent forth a crazed torrent of fire in what was commonly known as Flamethrower. |
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Post by Celebi "Davy T. Tock" on Jan 20, 2014 5:51:28 GMT -5
Davy should have been the god of evading questions. When you appeared out of nowhere on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times, it was important to make excuses. Avoiding questions, using nothing but simple charm, was his favored course of action. The shield wiggled on his injured arm; his entire body was trembling. Pain was outside of his normal realm. It was rare that he faced physical repercussions for his actions; it seemed today, first with a spear and now with an angered relative, that his choices had finally resulted in trouble. What do I do? Shaking his head wordlessly, in denial that he was at a loss, Celebi debated. He pushed. He shoved. The younger god of time tried. He failed What can I do?
Staring in eyes oddly reminiscent of hell, or the way it was described in human tales, his blood began to run cold. The wings behind him sped up. The little figure nervously hopped from side to side within the orange goop. When silence greeted his original words, for a moment, he felt himself begin to calm. Mayhap, since they had last encountered each other, this Dialga had learned the meaning of sympathy. Before her, surrounded by little petals of blood, the grass-type looked half dead. His tiny arm had been seriously damaged by the spear. The globules clinging to his wings made them look sluggish and weighed-down. The snarling changed that impression.
The fairy back-pedaled until his back lay against the wall; the tiny tear was just within reach. Such a small thing, so minuscule, in comparison to the work of a god (himself). Shaking his head, wish he had lied, Davy clung desperately to his ideas. It was obvious he had been injured. “Well I can’t deny it—I am being honest—it was only done out of duress….” He shook his head three more times. The weight of that aura, which felt sickly, pushed the little fairy downward. His feet, just tiny points, touched the scorched grasp. Just like Dialga moments ago, his gaze was filled with astonishment. “Now, Auntie Dialga. . .” The cracking spread and a few chips flew from the outer edges of the shield.
Staring up, now kneeling on the ground, Davy watched in horror. He knew an attack was coming. “N-no! It’s not that bad! I can fix it—just give me a chance!” He would just pretend his other chances, taken at various times, had occurred in some distant past. He could feel anger. had he ever been frightened of his father? This dragon was far worse than any senile old goat. Clinging to the worship of many of his relatives, at least where the creature of white and gold was concerned, Davy offered another protest. “Arceus wouldn’t like if I ended up hurt---“ Drip A single drop of that aura fell onto his face. Time had left all but them paused; it appeared her aura was included in that.
The grass began to burn. The grass-type gave a shiver of terror. She planned to turn him into ashes. He might regenerate later down the road; Arceus might find it in his heart to forgive him. But this was Dialga. She was one of the reasons he existed—Celebi was meant to be her janitor and guardian. He had been negligent. “ Dialga—please—I apologize; I do not deserve hell—I did what I did to help others! “ His voice cracked as he heard his own sham spoken aloud; . Now was no time to feel guilty! “No one deserves to go to hell for fun—!” Now his voice was shrill. . Do you truly care about other’s wishes or just what you feel is best for them--Celebi? He still didn’t deserve to die for it! The light blue eyes blazed solid blue.
The fairy knew, when it came to raw fire power, that he was outmatched—he was a grass type. Then again, in a land of green, was there not forests all around them? Dropping low to the ground, his shield covering his back, a screech drove itself out of his throat. The flames quickly broke through the little remaining protection. Skin blistered. Grass flaked.
It was good sometimes, especially when dropping for cover, to present a tiny little target.
He could not keep this up for long! It hurts! Oh Arceus! Father! “BIIIIII!” The ground began to shift and move as roots shifted and formed. First it was a hand. An arm followed. The little creature, barely half-formed, threw itself between the grass-legendary and its attacker. The flames devoured the little decoy and left Celebi with mostly superficial wounds. His eyes swam regardless. His antenna smoked. The dark-green area of his head was badly scorched.
Hoping that Dialga had momentarily lost her concentration, especially on keeping up that barrier, he tried to push free. Teleport! Come on! Father please! I won’t do it again! Something clicked in his mind. He felt himself tumble free of the little barrier. He quickly rose to his feet; one broken wing lagged badly and left his flight badly tilted.
The burns were already fading; his body was quite good with tiny wounds.
Time to fight fire with—well not fire---psychic! In truth, knowing who he faced, he doubted it would do well. The attack on the mind might draw Dialga out from this monster. In truth, his powers pushed away by pain, he needed time (which was trying to kill him). Wasn't that ironic?
Keep moving! Don't let her trap you again! Fly! He was tempted to lay down and die.
That was rather ironic wasn’t it? Speeding himself up with a thought, dashing away to float in front of Dialga, he unleashed two attacks. The first was a psychic burst driven from the center of his core. The second was placed into the future. “A---auntie—please…..? You know I don’t fight!”
Celebi used Psychic! Celebi used Future Sight!
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Post by Diana Atheiah [Dialga] on Feb 7, 2014 21:25:22 GMT -5
| | Primal Dialga
Diana Atheiah
There are many things that a feral beast such as Primal Dialga can handle. Physical attacks do not seem to off-balance the beast much, for it seems to have no true pain sensor. The steel plating on its body, though susceptible to fire attacks, do a fine job of protecting the monstrous creature from most attacks. It stood, unyielding, uncaring as Celebi writhed beneath the burning flames. Heavy jaws shut, closing off the stream of fire as the great being of Time swallowed the remaining magma, returning it to sit where it usually resided, deep within its belly someplace. Orange eyes stared at Celebi as he attempted to escape the fire. Teeth were bared in a slight snarl as the little green creature picked himself up from the grass, the burns healing on his body. Eyes went unblinking as Celebi hovered before it, the same rage-filled stare it had possessed as the janitor of Time had cried out in pure agony only moments before. Energy began to gather within the monster once again, with the intention of finishing off what it had started. As the energy began to reach its peak, however, a rather unexpected turn of events would lay waste to what Primal Dialga had intended.The beast's mind was weak, knowing nothing but rage and instinct. It could withstand any physical confrontation, anything that should normally hurt. But what it had not expected was the Psychic pulse. The energy rolled through the air before slamming into Primal Dialga. And once contact was made, it seemed to aim directly for its mind. The surge was so sudden, so... Unusual for the feral beast that it staggered back slightly, orange eyes snapping wide. Massive tail swung left to right as Primal Dialga's head jerked up towards the sky. To the beast who had not yet suffered from a mind-based attack, it was so alien, and so terribly disconcerting that a panic switch seemed to be triggered from within it. It felt as though there was something implanted within it now, something attacking it from inside. Jaws parted, and the energy that had been storing was released in a growing orb of orange light. Before anything could be done to stop the attack, it was fired high into the sky where it proceeded to explode, fragmenting into smaller balls of orange light. They quickly took the shape of comets raining down from the sky. This was Draco Meteor.But there was something wrong. There was a different wild look to the beast's eyes as it swung its great head from side to side. It looked as though it were fighting some invisible opponent that was clinging to its back. The air began to crack around Primal Dialga as it continued to thrash, and almost felt as though there should be a storm brewing. When the bolts of lightning shot forth and upwards from Dialga in a Thunderbolt, it was quickly apparent that Primal Dialga had lost all control of itself. Time was no longer frozen on the ground.Something, however, wasn't right. With such power released into the air, the surrounding area should have suffered some form of damage. And yet... Nothing happened. For a heartbeat, the comets, glowing eerily due to the added electricity, remained suspended in mid air, as though the world had stopped breathing for a split second. And then it all started again. The comets converged, focusing in on their target, closing the distance with a speed high enough to ensure that impact would cause excruciating pain. The being on which this damage would be inflicted? There was something in its mind. There had to be. There was only one possible target, only one possible way to destroy this thing that was trying to destroy its mind. The first comet made contact in the middle of Primal Diagla's back. With a tight roar, the beast staggered slightly, neck curling as the beast made an attempt to lunge at where the comet had been. Electricity hummed through its veins, its pupils dilating and then contracting in such rapid sequence that the world seemed to spin around it. The second struck the end of its tail, quickly followed by the next, which struck the beast squarely on the shoulder. Its forelimb collapsed under the impact, its body beginning to seize as the Thunderbolt's electricity continued to tear through its body. The comets began to strike in rapid intervals, no time to even breathe left between each. Back. Hind quarters. Neck. And finally, the head. The last hit its mark directly in the center of Primal Dialga's forehead, leaving the front portion of its body to buckle and collapse as Primal Dialga fell to its knees. The aggravated, irritated, and panicked grunts and groans had finally ceased, and for a moment there was nothing.The beast didn't move. It stayed with half of its body lowered to the ground, its neck bent, head low. Muscles trembled beneath the heavy scales as the last bits of electricity escaped its wounded body, into the ground. Smoke wafted from the impacted areas, leaving the creature blackened and dented, its glow dampened, nearly gone. Its body seemed to pulsate between a deep shade of blue, and a slightly lighter one. A barely audible groan echoed as its eyes cracked open. They too pulsated, switching from orange to red, even hitting the slightest tint of blue. There was a silent plea in the depth of those eyes, agony leaving the creature weak and shaking. Please...And then it hit. The attack pinned into the future by Celebi before Primal Dialga had lost its grip on reality. Future Sight came in with such force that somehow the beast found the strength to rear up onto its hind legs. Pupils contracted to the smallest of dots as the beast literally screamed in pain. The sound rose high into the air, resonating through the silence. It was the famous cry recognizable as Dialga. It was there, and then it was gone. ... Much like Primal Dialga. Pale knees hit the ground, the jeans that had once covered them ripped. Her knees, along with part of her left thigh and both calves were exposed to the air. Tall, lean frame buckled and slumped as the woman caught herself with her hands. They were bruised, and most of the nail beds on her fingers were bleeding. Her arms were equally as bruised and battered, and they shook violently, barely able to hold the rest of her body up. Her shirt was in tatters, no longer of much use as most of her back and stomach, along with her right shoulder were exposed.A moment passed where nothing seemed to happen. She couldn't seem to breathe. Everything hurt. She had no recollection of where she was or how she'd gotten here. The only thing she could register was the unbearable pain. Pupils dilated momentarily, overtaking the blue irises on her eyes seconds before the raven-haired woman slumped to the ground, arms giving out beneath her. She was alive. Her breathing was hitched and ragged, but it was present. The only coherent thought Diana could produce before the darkness of unconsciousness took over was horrified.Oh Arceus... What happened... What have I done now? |
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Post by Celebi "Davy T. Tock" on Feb 12, 2014 5:08:10 GMT -5
Dialga! Celebi kept waiting for an impossible savior. Arceus, please! Why would he let them fight like this? Why make a time guardian with such a self-split? He had to be faithful. The devil had little intention of twisting into a healing angel; the large dragon continued to let him burn. Blisters across mint skin. Wings crinkling like plastic wrap left too close to the oven; their surfaces became brittle. Numb skin, burned far more severely than the reddened pieces next to it, continued to spread like a deadly mold. A lesser being might have perished—would have died. What would happen to time if he did so?
Was there any real danger? Had he not, just last week, spoke to himself about the events of next month? Had that already passed? These attempts at logic, frantic and desperate, did little to banish his fear. The people in ‘hell’, including things like Giratina, were unlikely to let him leave. Regular tyrants.
Cool air! The breeze that gently caressed his wounded skin, like wisps of loosened hair, drew his eyes up. The flames were gone. His skin was healing. It hurt—he was crying. Davy would never admit to such a moment of weakness. Black ash dropped to the ground; tiny pieces of plant, like writhing worms, stretched across the tiny wounds. He was free! He would be okay! Arceus did value his best children! Maybe he would give the Goat an handwritten apology later—just in case Arceys had been in his head. He just needed a bit more time, right now!
It was rather ironic for him to say that—and, if death had not again threatened with a sparking mouth, Davy might have let out a chortle. Instead, shaking like a leaf, he looked for a way out. Why do my powers refuse to work when I need them most? He prayed. He prayed more. He prayed loyder. Golden hooves dominated his mind. The goat could save his morality lesson for a later time.
The purple glow faded from closed eyes. It was just a second later. His eyes widened visibly—oblong limbs gently patted at his chest. He was still in one piece. A weak protect screen flickered before vanishing completely. It shouldn’t have worked—mathematics said he should be a pile of ash. It had been a tiny chance and foolhardy action—the only one the pacifist could think of. “It must be my lucky day—aside from being stabbed and attacked by my most dearest kin..” The orange light shot towards the sky. “Oh no..”
This was exactly what the dinosaurs had seen. Blue eyes stared up at the sky, with slowly shrinking pupils, as he nearly collapsed to the grass. A rock streaming flame, an angry blue color, slammed into his left arm. The little shield barely gave him a chance. Pain flared. Trees began to shift and flow outside the barrier. It had come to a point that he needed his associated-abilities—the ones that could hurt. The animal was thrashing. Another small pebble left its mark in its skin. “Dialga…” Had his attack worked? Was he safe? Time flowed back into his limbs. The blue eyes, which had turned dull, flared brightly.
“Yes! Thank you Arc--” Something fizzed. The air sizzled. A loud noise reverberated above. A stray thunderbolt threw him back into a pile of stray gravel and dried wild grasses. Groaning, now sparking, he staggered to his bloody feet. When he managed to regain his senses, his ears still ringing, his eyes widened.
The beast collapsed to the ground. The loud ringing finally began to fade. Davy could not believe what he was seeing. Time had been forgotten. It was illogical—like some children’s novels.
She hit herself? He doubted that Dialga was that clumsy in terms of attack. The area looked like a wasteland. Shards of molten rock still smoldered in their craters. Tiny puddles glowed with power from the dissipating thunderstorms. This was dangerous! But she was hurt! She could no more control that orange-eyed animal than a child could move the Earth. Crawl. Crawl. Crawl. Was she still breathing? Had Arceus chosen him over his sometimes shattered predecessor? Davy knew he was either foolhardy or stupid.
It was family though! The attack came out of nowhere. In truth, as he had concluded that he would be the being laying prostate on the ground, it was not meant for now. HE had forgotten about the attack—battle was rarely a place of logical planning, after all. A bellow. A human now knelt before him. Deciding this was a sign, an end to their silly little tiff (though he purposely played it down), Davy shifted himself.
Pale skin was dappled by burns. Blackened soot clung to some areas of skin. The long hair smelled like a campfire. The god of time could barely stand. Fingertips still reached out, trembling a bit, to touch the dark-haired ‘girl’. “ Dialga, wake up—I do need someone to kiss my boo-boos, after all.” It was just a joke. He didn’t want her unconscious. Or dead. He really was no good in situations like that.
Lithe legs folded beneath him. His head and shoulders slumped downward. He was tired. “I’ll start singing if you don’t—“ The god tried his best to push his own healing into her wounds. Grow. Plants, like himself , were a bit different from animals, however.
Was that a noise? Oblitus Aevus was meant to be free of infected, right? Davy knew that much.hat didn’t mean he wanted to sit out here all day. He had a hole in his shoulder, smelled as if he had danced in a fire, and ruined the clothing he always carried.
Maybe it was time to take a nap. “Just a few minutes and all that—“ Time slowed slightly,
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Post by Diana Atheiah [Dialga] on Mar 18, 2014 20:37:09 GMT -5
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As dazed, blue eyes fluttered open slightly, the light pierced through mercilessly from the sky above. Pain lanced through the woman's head as she let out a soft groan, promptly shutting her eyes against the light. For a moment, she lacked all control of herself. Not one muscle in her body seemed well enough to respond to her. She was inexplicably sore from the top of her head to the very tip of her toes. The worst part was that she had no clue as to what could have possibly rendered her so sore...Slowly, her fingers curled and uncurled, the first true sign of movement from the previously comatose woman. As movement returned to the rest of her arm, she managed to raise her hand to block out the rays of sun that were raining down on her. Blue eyes attempted to open again, and though it was still bright, she was able to at least squint, allowing her to take a hesitant look around. What she saw were trees and grass, which made no sense to the woman. Last she remembered, she'd been in her kitchen... What in the name of Arceus could have happened to have dragged her out here?With a groan that was louder than the first, she was able to pull herself into a seated position. One bare foot was tucked beneath the other leg, while that leg was stretched out, leaving the toes of her other foot victim to the cool breeze that tickled them. Long fingers curled slowly into the grass below, almost comforted by softness of it. Nature was truly a beautiful thing... The woman's sluggish mind couldn't help but feel disappointed that most of the world seemed to have forgotten that vital piece of information. Nature was slowly being destroyed by those who it had so graciously allowed to live there.Surely it wouldn't be long before nature surged to reclaim what it had lost. Blue eyes moved from the green grass, to her tattered jeans. She blinked slowly, staring at the holes in the knees of her jeans. Her body had already begun to heal, her nails no longer battered and bleeding, her knees now unscathed. But her clothes still bore the damage that had been dealt. Staring blankly at the jeans, her brow slowly began to furrow, confusion slipping into her soft blue gaze. No words were able to make it past her lips.Vaguely aware of Time slowly twisting around her, as though it had been in distress, and was now comforted by her presence, the raven haired woman lifted her hands to rub at her eyes. As they refocused, bringing the clearing into better focus, her heart leap up into her throat and skipped a beat. The green grass was tattered in places. Some areas looked as though they'd been scorched by a fire. In others, craters disrupted the uniformity of the green. Though they'd stopped flaming, the rocks, much like meteors, that had undoubtedly created the craters could just be seen embedded in the ground.By the powers of Time and Space... What had happened here?! Panic began to sizzle through her, making sore muscles ache more noticeably than before. She shifted to stagger to her feet, tattered clothes flapping slightly in the wind, until those wide blue eyes caught sight of another figure not far from her. "Oh Arceus no..." It was nothing more than a whisper; a ragged, horrified whisper. Fingers desperately dug into the ground, pulling her up on shaky limbs. She stumbled to the side, barely managing to catch herself and move forward.She closed the distance between her and the familiar green-haired male. Once near him, she dropped to her knees, not caring how much they objected to the sudden weight. She barely caught herself with her hands, staring down in fear at the motionless form of whom she knew to be Celebi. Her heart ached suddenly, her body paralyzed. For several moments, she couldn't bring herself to reach out towards him. Her breathing hitched, catching in her throat as her fear reared its ugly head once more. Her voice was quiet, broken, and reflected her pain. "Please.. P-Please no... D... Davy..?"Slowly, she lifted a hand to tentatively touch his shoulder. Her breathing had ceased. Her eyes were shining, on the verge of tears. And her heart was ready to tear itself apart. |
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Post by Celebi "Davy T. Tock" on Mar 25, 2014 1:27:02 GMT -5
Blue. Green. Blue. Green.
Eyes. Lids. Eyes. Lid. The glow flickered in and out. Grass gently wrapped around his throbbing aand scorched limbs. The healing touch, while quick, seemed repelled by the hole in his shoulder. Was that a poisoned tipped spear by chance? What would it do? Would it gnaw at his nerves or bring blood bubbling through his skin? Would he slip off into the eternal slumber of a curare victim?
Sky. Ground. Grass. Smoke. The air burned.
Craters lay between the pair, around the pair, and each of them smoldered with fire and smoke. The meteorites languished in the dark and loamy soil. The acrid smell, if Davy had been able to scent it, would draw up bile.
The fairy, bleeding into the grass from a wound older than civilization itself, drifted in and out of consciousness. Eyes rolled upward toward the robin’s egg sky. Unable to hold themselves up, being drug down by exhaustion, they focused on the earth. Time had little meaning to him. An eternity. Did he pause time? Was that why the leaves fell so slowly? The breeze sped up. It sputtered. It stopped. The clock danced a jig without rhyme or reason. His chest slowly fell in and out. Each breath hurt. Something felt like it had impaled his shoulder—which it had.
Pain drove him to take refuge in the happy and familiar. It was the 1950s again. It felt different than usual. It felt exactly the same—time was never identical. Something about the scene was ethereal. It had a sepia tone to it. The wheelchair, which sat there with its bowed nails and rotten tires, rolled back and forth. Little skeletal hands perched on its steel handles; the figure inside, who couldn’t be anymore than ten, was frozen in conversation with a nurse. He was laughing.Half an orange peel hung between those teeth.
This was the end. It was the last time Celebi saw him.
The walls were white and covered in ash smoke. Time bean to flow again—in spasmodic jerks. The fairy gave a half-hearted wave over his smile.” Why! If it isn’t Peter Pan—hey Celebi!” Arms opened and embraced the fairy. The IV in those arms, far too thin to be real, jingled with the motion. “How are you?” Items from the future, including a tiny toy robot, dropped into waiting arms. The fairy fluttered around his friend’s head.
They laughed until they cried.
They played a game of cards made just for them. The boy was tired. He was hurt. The smile ws forced. Was it time to bid farewell already?
Then, as always, the nurse came in.
He couldn’t come back anymore. He did it anyway. He always did it. He touched those cold hands, tiny fingers closed unseeing eyes, and forced himself to hold his lips together. The clock went backwards. Too late. He had seen him dead. It was too hard. It was too much. The prankster couldn’t take it. A wail emerged from his mouth. “Da---“
The human form on the ground was stuck between fae and man. Green skin, like mint, covered his body. The eyes were alien. The hair strewn with plant life. One arm twisted into a mitt; the other seemed to have more fingers than required. The clothing, while it remained, seemed haggard and insubstantial. The noises of his breath were strange.
Davy was no dinosaur. The meteors had not left him extinct.
The fall of his chest was shallow; it could almost go completely unnoticed. His limbs cold. The wound in his shoulder continue its steady dripping. Red coated the green grass; it had already began to dry into brown. Like worms, digging beneath his skin, various tendrils had emerged. Stitching his skin together, allowing the flesh to undulate, the healing was on its way. It was slow.
“"Please.. P-Please no... D... Davy..?"
That last word, barely a whisper, had drug him free from memories. The blue eyes slowly blinked awake. His ears rang; it seemed he could barely hear. It hurt. The world, like a kaleidoscope, spun around his mind in steady circles. Finally, managing a tired smile, he remained laying upon his bruised side. The sight of Dialga brought the memories flooding back.
Orange. He quite distrusted the color orange. For a moment, sickened by the thought of another battle, he tensed. Smoke still streamed from his body. Large patches of his odd skin was charred. This woman though, this lovely woman, was certainly not Primal Dialga. That whale could not comprehend his name—much less the tears he thought he saw.
Sighing, his breath giving a tiny rattle, Celebi spoke quietly. “Your concern does a spirit well---Auntie.” One hand lifted and gave a quick wave.” Has your monthly come to an end now?” The tiniest hint of the tear in time continued to ripple behind them.
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