Topic: Des's Nonsensiscal Misadventures of Awesomeness and Window Breaking.
Side Stories featuring everyone's favourite ex-con.
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--V.S.
WAAPT@tropi.us Legacy → WAAPT: In-Universe → Des's Nonsensiscal Misadventures of Awesomeness and Window Breaking.
Side Stories featuring everyone's favourite ex-con.
A WAAPT Christmas Carol
Part 1: Familiar
In an unknown city, in an undisclosed location two figures are leaning against a building. It’s night-time, snow slowly falls all around them. The first figure, who’s identity is concealed due to the trench coat and wide brimmed hat that they are wearing, halls out a pack of cigarettes and offers a smoke to the second figure. The second figure, who in spite of the cold weather is wearing but a white long-sleeve and a pair of blue jeans, gladly accepts. At the pair’s feet sits a Growlithe. It’s unaffected by the cold night due to it’s inner fire. The second figure bends down with the “cancer stick” in his mouth and gestures for the fire pup to light it up. A small tongue of flame later and soon a steady stream of smokey wisps start emanating from the second figure. He takes a long draw before turning to his partner.
“Holidays are comin’ up. You gotta family or somethin’ to go too ‘Figure’?”
“Figure” nods. “Aye, that I do Des. How about you? Do you have anyone to go too, or do I have too babysit you over the holidays as well?”
“Nah, but I’ll be fine. I’ve spent a lot of Christmases isolated from humans. My ‘mons and me try to make the best of it, though we really couldn’t care for Christmas.”
“They couldn’t care, or you couldn’t care?”
Des pauses. “Figure, I never really had a “good” Christmas. Never, even before I became a Grunt. Whether my ‘mons find some kind of spiritual satisfaction in it is up to them. As for me however, I’ve long since accepted that Christmas and me do not mix.”
“That’s too bad to hear I guess”. “Figure” halls up a sleeve and looks at a watch.
“Well if you ever need a place for the holidays, you’re always welcome at my place. Just don’t tell the wife you’re a former crook. She’ll have you gutted and hanged out to dry. See ya!”
“Figure” begins to walk off.
“Yeah see ya! Hmm. Come on Sparkers.” He calls to the Growlithe as he begins to walk off as well. “Let’s see if we can find a comfortable tree for the night.”
Sparkers appears reluctant to follow at first, but soon finds himself following Des’s tracks in the snow as they traverse into the forest outside of the city.
He must be nuts. Why didn’t he just go with Figure? Sparkers thought to himself. The Growlithe stops for a moment and points his nose to the sky, testing the air.
He mustn’t realize that there’s a storm coming. Several moments later the wind is howling as it blows past the tress. Des is currently being pelted with snow. Sparkers is currently curled up in his arms, safe from the frozen bombardment.
“Maybe I should of went with Figure?”
The Growlithe looks up at him. “<You think?>”.
“Screw this. Let’s just go back to wherever we came from.”
Des whips around and finds himself looking at unfamiliar snow covered foliage.
“Uh?”
The wind blows stronger, the snow grows thicker. Now Des can hardly see two feet in front of him. He begins to shiver and hugs Sparkers tighter.
“It’s ok. We’ll find our way out. It was just over here. I think”.
Des walks in a random direction. Only a few minutes pass but to hi it feels like ages, constantly working against the raging wind. Finally he finds something familiar...
“Oh Arceus dammit!”. Before him is a sequence of footprints. His footprints.
“We went in a freakin’ circle!”
“<Correction. You went in a freakin’ circle>”
Unaware of his partners saucey comment, Des trudges on hoping to find some semblance of civilization. The cold has finally got to him. He’s shaking at the knees. He takes one last mighty step forward before falling face first into the snow. Sparkers manages to shimmy out from under his trainers weight.
“<Des? Des get up. Des! Oh this is bad this is very bad.>
Sparkers clamps down on the collar of Des’s shirt and begins dragging him across the ground hopefully in civilization’s general direction.
Some time has passed. Des suddenly bolts upright.
“Uh...what? What happened? And why am I in a snow bank?!”
The former Rocket picks himself up and dusts off all the snow that collected on his body. He takes a quick glance at his surroundings. He’s in a clearing with big patch of grass at it’s center, betraying the fact that only moments ago Des was caught in a blizzard. A small campfire burns in the middle of this patch, seemingly keeping the snow at bay. Des tentatively approaches it with looking to soak in it’s warmth. As soon as he steps on the grassy patch the campfire erupts, growing twice in size.
“Ah!” Des stumbles back a bit in fright. The tongues of flame begin to form something. A shape at the epicenter of the inferno. A pair of mighty bat like wings burst from either side of the plume of fire and the flames started to die down until they disappeared altogether. Standing on the pile of smoldering wood, Des found something else that looked familiar that day.
“A-Ace?”
A WAAPT Christmas Carol
Part 2: Fire
On top of what once was a campfire stood a Golbat. Burns covered it’s body and it’s wings were a charcoal black and appeared to be smoldering. Most jarring of all was it’s face. Half of it appeared to be burnt leaving only a red patch of skin.
“Ace? It’s really you!”
Des runs up and tries to embrace the Golbat in a hug, but he phases through.
“Of course it’s me you nitwit? Who else would it be?”
Tears begin swelling in Des’s eyes. “You’re back you’re really back. But why can’t I touch you?”
“Oh gee. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m a ghost!”
“Ghost?”
“Yeah, you know. A spirit. An apparition. Although in this situation it’s more likely I’m a hallucination of some sort. Hmmm. Nah, too meta. We’ll just go with ghost for now.”
Des just stood there with his mouth agape, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.
“S-so you’re still dead?”
“Of course I’m still dead!”
Des arches an eyebrow at Ace’s charred wings.
“Why are your wings like all smoky and stuff?”
Ace regards his own wings then looks back at Des. “This is a curse. Eternity to flap around the earth. Not exactly in the realm of the livin’, but not exactly in the realm of the dead. This curse is my comeuppance. What I got for the crimes I committed, and what you will get someday too.”
Des’s eyes widen with fear. His heart begins pounding in his chest. “B-but I’m redeeming myself. I’m tryin’ to make up for what I did!”
“Eh! Calm down buddy. That’s what “Ol’ Ace in the Hole” is here for. I’ve come to warn you.”
“Warn me ‘bout what?”
“You will be visited by three more spirits before this night is over. Three spirits who will show you shadows of the past, present, and future. Their arrival is inevitable. Nothing you can do can change this. But that doesn’t mean nothing can be changed.”
A gust of wind blows through the clearing. Ace starts crumpling into ash and is being carried off into the wind.
“Wait! Ace! Don’t leave me now!” Tears are streaming down his face. “When will the first spirit come? Why is this happening? And above all else I’m...”
Ace just gives a nod and a wink before the rest of him is carried off.
“...Sorry.”
Des slumps down onto the ground and wipes away his tears. Snow starts to accompany the wind and the once green patch of grass is being covered in a white blanket. The former Grunt begins to shiver. Suddenly a crackling noise starts emitting from the dead campfire, a sound not unlike the one that wood makes when it’s being burned. Des crawls over to the charred pile to examine this noise when for the second time that night the campfire erupts in a column of fire. However Des is not startled this time. The last inferno was violent and roared of remorse and regret. This fire was soft, white, and crackled with the sound of forgiveness and innocence. Innocence lost a long time ago. The white flames begin swirling in a corkscrew and just like before a shape begins to take form.
“No freakin’ way...”
The figure standing in the middle of the incendiary twister appeared to be a teenage girl, no older than 16. Her hair was long straight and glowed with a pinker hue than the sky at sunset and her eyes were two hunks of blue ice that looked as if they could soothe even the most painful burns. Her dress was white with pink ribbons hanging from it and in her hand a was a pink fan. She giggles as the flames die down.
“I love doing that.”
“Uh Sakura? What the hell are you doin’ here? And why are you dressed in something that looks like it belongs in Touhou?”
The girl gives Des a quizzical look. “Sakura? I don’t know who this “Sakura” is, but I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past, under order of the “Big Guy” himself.”
“Big Guy?”
“Oh you’ll meet him later. For now though I have to do my job.”
“Which is is?”
Past facepalms. “I just told you I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past. What else do you think I’m supposed to do.”
She sighs as she hauls out a pokeball and sends out a rather fierce looking Arcanine. She hops onto it’s back.
“Hop on! Lorean will take us there.”
“Where exactly?”
Another facepalm. “Are you really that dense? The past of course.”
Des gulps a little as he reluctantly climbs onto the Arcanine’s back.
“I’m goin’ to the past on the back of an Arcanine. You can’t repel irony of this magnitude.”
The Arcanine speeds off leaving behind dual trails of fire. The world around Des begins to blur as they accelerate faster and faster. Past looks behind at Des and gives a warm smile.
“Next stop, the past!”
A WAAPT Christmas Carol
Part 3: Past
There’s a bright flash of light and Des finds himself only a few meters above the snow covered ground. The Arcanine known as Lorean speeds on leaving behind a trail of fire. Des looks at his hands and sees that they are now transparent.
“Uh spirit?”
Past looks behind at Des. “Oh call me Past!”
“Right. So am I a ghost?”
Past shrugs. “That seems to be the default explanation for the weird things that have been happening lately. Well weird for you anyways, this is just work for me!” She giggles as Lorean skids to a stop. Des looks around at his surroundings and finds himself in some sort of town square.
“Recognize anything?” The spirit asks him.
“Well I’ve been to a lot of places. I’ve never really settled down in one spot before, but there is a certain familiarity here. Wherever ‘here’ is.”
Past points to a shabby looking building. Above the door hangs a sign that reads “Shelter”.
“What you seek lies in there.”
Des approaches the door and tries to grab hold of the handle, but his hand phases through.
“Huh?”
Experimentally he thrusts his hand at the door’s surface and sure enough it goes through. He looks back at Past.
“You coming?”
Past shakes her head. “This is something that you must see, not I. Besides, I hate reruns.”
Des decides to ignore the irony in the spirits statement and phase through the door. Inside he finds a few dozen people bundled up in blankets, either asleep of shivering.
“No...”
In a corner he finds a woman. Tan skin, black hair and eyes like two pieces of chocolate. She’s currently hugging a small boy, no older than 7. His hair is the same colour as hers, though his eyes are a bright green that looked like they could light up the whole room. The boy looks up at the mother. There is a sad look on his face.
“I’m sorry mommy.”
The woman just smiles at her son. “Sorry for what?”
“I never got you anything this Christmas. I was thinking about taking an apple but I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t do it.” Tears begin to fall down his face.
“It’s alright. You don’t need to get mommy anything for Christmas. Besides I’m very proud of you. You knew it was wrong to take that apple. Now it’s time for your present.”She squeezes her son.
“A great big hug!”
The little boy giggles as his mother hugs him.
Tears begin to well up in Des’s eyes. “I’m sorry mom...”
The sound of footsteps draws Des’s attention to the door. He grits his teeth in anger as a trio of men make their way across the room, passing right through him to the woman and her son. The man in the middle takes off his coat and passes it to one of his subordinates. Then he takes off his hat and bows to the woman.
“Salutations.” He kisses her hand. “What’s a lovely woman such as yourself doing in a place like this?”
The woman blushes. “Um we don’t really have a place to stay...”
“Say no more! You and your son will be spending Christmas with me.”
“I-uh thank you for your generosity, but I think my son and I can manage on our own.”
“Nonsense my dear I insist.”
“But I don’t want to be in debt to you.”
The man chuckles. “We’ll sort all of that out later.”
The woman looks down at her son who’s shivering in her embrace. She sighs.
“Very well then, but I would like to at least know your name.”
The shelter door bursts open and snow begins blowing in, circling around Des. He can feel himself being pulled away from the scene.
“No not yet! I can change this!”
An evil smirk appears on the man’s face.
“Call me Uncle G.”
“Don’t listen to him!” Des is pulled out of the shelter and finds himself hurled at the feet of Past. He up looks at the spirit angrily.
“Why! Why did you show me that!”
“Your mother was never afraid to do what was best for you. She used what she had, and never asked anything of anyone. It seems ‘debt fear’ runs in the family.” The spirit giggled. The flurry of snow intensified around Des.
“The one moment where your mother accepted help from someone, she paid the ultimate price...”
Scenes played out right in front of Des’s eyes. The young boy accepting a pokeball from the aforementioned “Uncle G”, that same boy wandering off into the horizon, and his mother crying whilst being comforted by “Uncle G”, a familiar smirk on his face.
“...Was you. Now that's probably just a case of bad luck, but in the end she did what was best for you.”
“I ask again spirit why?” Des whips around to see that Past and Lorean have vanished. The flurry dies down and Des finds himself standing in an unknown city.
“Where am I now?”
The chime of ringing bells catches Des’s ear. A flash of light and a sleigh drawn by 8 Sawsbuck materializes in front of him. A massive figure, cloaked in green ascends from the sleigh. It’s hood is up obscuring it’s features from Des.
“B-Big Guy?”
The figure shakes his head, then begins to sway a bit. Whispering can be heard from within the folds of the cloak.
“Watch where you’re stepping. My pad is sensitive you know.”
“Now now my companion, I am in control of the head. You are my feet. The head tells the feet to stop swaying so much.”
“I knew I should of been on top.”
“But you were built for the torso my friend!”
“Are you calling me fat!”
“Uh...” Des just stares at the figure as it begins to sway more.
The figure trips over the side of the sleigh and falls face down into the snow. A gust of wind blows through carrying the cloak with it and revealing not one but two figures. A Breloom and a Ludicolo. Both are garbed in robes and wreaths.
“Ponch’ and Salt’?”
“It would seem our cover has been compromised” Came the Breloom.
“You must have us confused with someone else. Me and my friend here-“
“My friend and I.” Corrected the Breloom.
“We are the dual Spirits of Christmas Present, You may call me Here.” The Ludicolo gestured to himself.
“And my designation is Now!” Declared the Breloom.
Des cocked his head at the pair that looked so much like two ‘mons of his own.
“So I guess you’re here to show me the Christmas of today then?”
The pair nod.
“Well before we go can I just ask-.”
“No time! We’re running on a tight schedule here!” Now picks Des up and throws him into the sleigh. Here grabs hold of the reigns and gives them a good whip. With a mighty heave by the Sawsbuck pull the sleigh and go rocketing off. Des is forced into the back wall of the craft as they zoom through the city streets.
“I’m gonna hurl.”
Now gives him a paper bag.
“Can’t hold your eggnog huh?”
Thorns
A woman sits behind a glass screen. She's running here fingers through her red hair. Idle and impatient. She's waiting for someone. A door opens on the opposite side of the screen and a figure walks in, taking a seat opposite of her. This individual's features are being obscured by a bouquet of roses.
The figure picks up a phone hanging beside him. She does the same.
"Hehe, guess who?" the figure says in a playful voice.
The red headed woman sighs and glares at the bouquet.
"I know it's you."
"How do you know?"
"You frigging called me!!!"
The figure moves the bouquet away from his face revealing an unshaven chin and a pair of gleaming green eyes. The woman doesn't seem amused to see him.
"Oh come on can I get a smile?" Des teased her. Her glare grows more intense.
Des sighs "Rose, we haven't seen each other in years. I know i didn't leave on the best terms..."
"You ran away like a little bitch."
"Ace was dyin'."
"And look where I am now. Behind bars while you live comfortably in freedom."
"Comfortably?" Des gestures to a scare on his cheek. "I'm a League bitch. I'm on a tight leash and expected to obey their every whim. Honestly there are some days that I wish everything would jut go back to the way it was."
"Then why don't you?"
Des looks down at the locket hanging around his neck. "There are some people I don't want to disappoint."
"Friends?"
"Yeah, friends. You'd like 'em."
"How so?'
"They're nothin' like you." A childish smirk spreads across Des's face. He stifles his laughter.
"Very mature."
"Would expect any less from 'The Golden Boy'."
A corner of Roses mouth couldn't help but curl up in a half-smile. "You and I both know that you were one of the most vile and devious Rockets around. That whole "innocent one out" thing you had was a facade".
Des smirked. "No wonder you liked me so much."
The pair looked at each other in complete silence, then they burst out laughing.
"Hahaha, oh Des I haven't laughed like that in ever."
"Good to see I've finally broken through to you." Des reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bet up pokeball. Painted on top of it is a black "R". Rose stops laughing and regards the pokeball.
"Is that..."
Des opens the poke ball and in a flash of light a Bellosom appears.
"I found her at an adoption centre. If it wasn't for that old ball I wouldn't have realized it was her. This is the same Gloom you adored when you were a Rocket."
Rose's hand slowly moved up to cover her gaping mouth. Tears begin swelling in her eyes.
"Perennial?"
The Bellosom looks at Rose through the screen, then starts jumping up and down very excitedly, obviously happy to see Rose.
"Des, I don't know what to say." Perennial presses her face against the screen eliciting a giggle from her former trainer.
Des smiled at the warm scene in front of him. "You always had a soft spot for adorable Grass-Types. Kind of uncharacteristic for a Rocket"
"And you always gave me a hard time about it, Batboy."
The sweet moment is interrupted by a cough coming from a guard standing in the corner of the room. He taps his watch impatiently.
"Well looks like my time is up." The pairs eyes meet, green meeting blue, and for a second they get lost in each others gaze.
"You look nice."
"For a prison girl."
"I see you've cut your hair."
"That's to give the other inmates one less thing to strangle me with."
Silence hangs between them. Silence that could be filled by three little words.
Another cough snaps Des out of his daze. He quickly collects Perennial and the bouquet.
"I'll see if I can get these sent into you. It was nice seein' you again."
Des quickly leaves the room, leaving Rose sitting there with the phone still up to her ear. She looks longly at the door.
"I loved you."
WAAPT@tropi.us Legacy → WAAPT: In-Universe → Des's Nonsensiscal Misadventures of Awesomeness and Window Breaking.
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