AU - May we die in the forest
Who: A wild Ivysaur and everyone who crosses his path
What: Your nature walk just got more interesting
Where: FDC woods
When: He'll be here all week until he's murdered
Warnings: Fighting, swearing, violence towards flora, Death
( Read more... )
What: Your nature walk just got more interesting
Where: FDC woods
When: He'll be here all week until he's murdered
Warnings: Fighting, swearing, violence towards flora, Death
( Read more... )
The vine secured and wrapped neatly around his leg, there wasn't any time wasted as he was whipped unceremoniously into the air to be hung around like some gaudy, low hanging chandelier. "You know, he looks at me like that too, sometimes." Frankie spun the Ivysaur around, watching him carefully. "That's how I know that quirk of his has the tendency to be mistaken."
There wasn't anything good about him any more. That was obvious enough from the way Frankie was looking at him. Any shred of normal decency had fled long ago, leaving only a rotten seed behind. Yet the kind words had come anyway, and he wanted to accept them as much as this Ivysaur wanted to deny them. It was all rather infuriating.
In case it wasn't clear that the Ivysaur was suddenly in a bad situation, Frankie decided to give him a very handy clue. The vine tightened on the back leg, and it's captive was sent careening down flower first towards the forest floor.
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Snagged, dangling in mid-air, the Ivysaur was speechless in a cocktail of shock, confusion, and a sense of terror that was growing more and more shrill by the second. Lamely, he kicked at the air, squirming against his captor's trap as those gold eyes watched the struggle.
Words passed in one ear and out through the other, drowned out by the horrified sound of drumbeats where his pulse once was. What was going on? Why was this happening? Who was this guy? All those questions were quickly being summed into a desperate realization: he had to get out of here or--
Then, SLAM! Before he could even think to react, a shattering pain pierced through the very core of his floral heart. It was beyond any trauma he could've ever even tried to imagine, seizing up his entire nervous system in its grip and holding it hostage.
His flower - oh fucking god, his flower - its suffering overwhelmed any attempt he could've tried at self-defense. Screaming too loud. Or maybe that was the Ivysaur himself?
Involuntary, pitifully agonized sounds. Bright stabs in his vision. Momentarily helpless.
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Frankie pressed forward with his actions, taking advantage of the Ivysaur's stunned immobility. As beautiful as the sounds of his screams were, the fact remained that they might not have been alone. A second vine slithered around him, wrapping up over his head to clamp his jaw shut and muffle his noises. He was going to be hoisted up in the air again, but this time it would be due to the rocket roughly grabbing him by the base of his flower that he could hold. His fingers dug in harder than they needed to. He wouldn't want to drop the poor thing, after all. What a shame that would be.
"He'll come back for you," Frankie continued to speak. The words meant nothing to his victim, he knew. They were more for himself at this point. Unnecessary encouragement for the task at hand. "He might even find you someday. Perhaps then he'll finally learn how to hate."
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The Ivysaur was helpless to resist at this point. As much as he tried to fight off the vines that bound him, he simply didn't have the strength to break their hold. His screams were quickly muffled into nothing more than raspy whimpers, dwarfed by the ambient stillness that returned to the forest.
He was going to die here. His torturer would have the pleasure of seeing that fevered terror in his eyes, overtaking his entire body. All his frantic struggles were for naught - even as he tried calling on his vines and leaves, his crushed flower could no longer obey him. The flower's own instincts released a mist of poison spores, an automatic response to anything it perceived as a life-threatening attack - but as another Poison Type, this human Ivysaur would feel nothing.
He was going to die, and he didn't even understand why. He was going to die a stupid, meaningless death, for nothing, away from anyone who ever cared for his existence.
He was going to die over a human?
No, no, no, this wasn't happening. Like hell he'd just die like this! Adrenaline surged through him as rage took over, burning away his fear and pain. He was going to fight back with every ounce of strength he had, even if it killed him in the process.
Thrashing, clawing at anything he could reach, the frenzied Ivysaur began to glow. Before anything else he'd ever learned, there was only one ability that had been in his blood since birth - and fueled by nothing but pure hate, he was hellbent on draining his opponent's life force dry.
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Then why... Frankie stared down into the Ivysaur's face, and for a moment that terror held him quite still. It was something cold and fleeting, a memory he could not remember having. It was more than just being familiar with the expression. He knew those eyes. He'd been haunted by them before. An entirely foreign feeling skirted around the edges of his heart. For some reason he felt... It wasn't anything that he could place.
Unlike whoever's memory the moment truly belonged to, Frankie did not know the meaning of remorse.
The moment was what the Ivysaur needed to try and make a comeback. Oh good, he was going to put up a fight. For a bit Frankie was worried that he was simply going to resign himself to his fate. The clawing was easily avoided but... Frankie hissed through his teeth, recognizing the pull and drain of his life slipping through him as he jerked back a step. The rush of weakness was unanticipated. He grit his teeth and clenched his fingers harder, tearing through delicate petals as if gripping harder would prevent the drain.
He was reminded that he was actually quite angry. He struck out with his free hand, backhanding the other saur across the face. Mostly he wanted to stop looking at those damned eyes. It didn't hold as much bite as it could have, his energy still pulling away from him. But where hands failed him, thin slices would pick up the slack.
There was a familiar whistle of wind, and the air was full of leaves. Certainly not the ideal move against his fellow grass type, but the result would still be the same. Tender flesh would still bleed no matter who you were.
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The leaves sliced through skin, but so long as Ivysaur was engulfed in his draining glow, the cuts healed only moments after they were made. Mere flesh wounds right now were a tug of war between how quickly his tormentor could slice him and how much vitality could be stolen in return.
But the tearing pressure being put on his vulnerable flowerbud wasn't so easily repaired. Dark fluid oozed through humanoid fingers, sticky sweet as a sharp pain arched through his symbiote spine. Giga Drain had its limits, and he was already pushing them by holding out his attack so long.
No, the Ivysaur was going to keep siphoning as long as he could, even if it meant burning out his nervous system just to spite the bastard. The desperate adrenaline was making him reckless, but fuck it. If he was going to die, he'd at least make this traitor remember his hate.
Of course it couldn't last, not enough to finish him. The Ivysaur's limbs were going numb. A murkiness was invading his mind, and slowly the glow began to fade.
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The Ivysaur was hardly free though. The vice grip the human Pokemon's fingers had in his flower remained. He might have felt humiliatingly weak at the moment, but Frankie was still very much alright. The feeling would pass and clarity would take it's place.
He had to admire the Ivysaur's tenacity. For the few sweet breathes of relief he might have been able to breathe right then, all he had managed to do was invite his death that much quicker. Frankie gave a small hiss of annoyance at that, throwing the grass type to the ground finally. He supposed he would just have to make it more obvious about just how this Pokemon met its unfortunate end.
He took a moment to inspect his soiled glove, keeping a foot on the creature's side lest he get the idea that he could crawl away. Frankie brushed his fingers together, observing the behavior of the crushed bud's sap. Dark and sticky, it trailed between his finger tips in loose strands. Staring down at the Ivysaur, he swiped his tongue across one digit. Sweet as it smelled, but alarmingly sour to the point that it was bitter. No doubt it was something that should have been killing him if he were anyone else.
Curiosity satisfied, Frankie reached down and began smoothly plucking the pretty pink petals from their bud.
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The Ivysaur hit the ground with a pained yelp, but even with his crushed bud out of his tormentor's hands, there was simply no strength left in him to run. His limbs had gone completely numb, and no matter how hard he tried or how loud he wished, they simply couldn't hear him anymore. Somewhere in his spine, where his floral symbiote connected to his nerves, he had just been broken.
The pressure of the other Ivysaur's foot on his side wasn't even necessary to prevent escape - but if it was suffering he wanted, the dying Pokemon couldn't help but comply with harsh, desperate gasps for breath in between the crushing pain. He had nothing left: no one to care, nowhere to run, no means of self-defense, no dignity in dying. Even his hate began to wither under the crippling reality of helplessness.
Involuntary tears welled up in his eyes as his thoughts pleaded, kill me, kill me already, fighting against the animal inside that hopelessly clung to its survival instinct.
I don't want to die.
Just kill me.
It can't end like this.
Fuck you.
Please, please, please...
But the haze of despair was shattered by a new wave of pain - sharp, stabbing straight into the heart of him like a blade of light. The Ivysaur choked in mid-thought, his entire body seizing up as a vital chunk of his life was forcibly ripped from him. Then again. And again. Flaying him down to the core in an agony he couldn't possibly describe.
Only moments earlier he would've thought himself physically past the point of screams, but this very quickly proved him wrong. It felt like his soul was crying. And every time he blacked out, another torn petal shoved him back into this existence of unrelenting pain.
The Ivysaur couldn't feel the tears streaming down his face, or the breaking point where his throat had shred itself too raw for noise. The air was stained, just as the ground had been, with a smell so sweet that it teetered on the brink of nauseating. By the time Frankie's work was done, the Ivysaur was an empty husk of a creature that could only wait to die.
Delirium and consciousness faded in and out, neither one allowing relief.
And it'd be a full 24 hours before anyone would even think to look for him.
Don't leave me like this. I don't want to die. Just kill me...
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