Almost Familiar Faces [Active, Closed for Now]

[replicat]

Characters: Mewtwo, Red, Red's Pikachu
Setting: Greenhouse, East Hallway, More?
Time: Day 004, after Mewtwo part ways with Mio and Zetsu
Summary: Mewtwo meets a Pokémon, a trainer, and then... helps them?
Warnings: Mewtwo.

Comments

[replicat]

[Capture me?!] Mewtwo's voice reverberated loudly in Red's skull, and the blue aura he'd held reserve flared into existence. No Master Ball--no Pokéball had ever held Mewtwo, Master or otherwise; he was his own entity! He had even created his OWN Pokéball, one far superior to the original tool--while he regretted it now, understanding what he did, Angrily, he seized Red in his telekinetic grip, wreathing the trainer in blue and tightening his grip so that the human could not move. His aura grew.

[I have neither met nor attacked any 'Blaine' in my lifetime, human... but no being, human or otherwise, has ever held me captive... the human species may have created me, but they have no claim to my life!] Mewtwo could not declare his birth--that gift, that natural state of being, was not his, and he made no pretense of having claim to it. But while he had been used--created, deceived--he had not, and would not, be captive or object to anyone! His eyes narrowed as his aura expanded further, consuming physical objects within reach and disintegrating them under its pure power. Pikachu too was seized and lifted from the ground, the psychic's grip on the smaller Pokémon tightening similar, though interestingly, both were shielded from the destructive effects of the rest of the aura. The crushing force with which he was holding Red, however, increased with his anger, leaving the trainer in a very precarious position.

[You dare to tell me you have the power to hold me within one of your Pokéballs? Come, human, show me this power. I am waiting.]

[adventurous_red]

Red was completely taken off guard; his naivete had left him unprepared for Mewtwo's rage. He supposed he should have expected some anger, but nothing on this scale. The fact that this Mewtwo could talk (in a way) barely registered in the trainer's mind; the crushing psychic force was too powerful. He could barely gasp for breath.

Glancing over at his Pikachu, Red's heart sank. Red had spoken the words, the ones that had Mewtwo in such a fury, so how dare the psychic involve the other Pokemon in this? All Pika had done was ask for help. All he ever did was try to save Red - was that so wrong?

With the last of his courage, Red ignored Mewtwo's question, ignored the inconsistencies that didn't match his own memories. Instead, he looked the Pokemon straight in the eye, and used his few gasps of breaths to utter a demand.

"Put...Pika...down..."