((Nightmare))
Weavile was alone. But that was nothing new. He had always been alone. He liked being alone. So why should this dream be any different?
He was walking through a blank expanse. Everything was blindingly white and seemed to go on forever. He was in his evolved Pokemon form, but that fact didn't seem important. Glancing around, there was nothing to see for miles. And yet it felt oddly familiar. So much white. It was almost like...
White flakes started floating down from the sky. At least he assumed it was the sky, since they were coming from an upward direction. It was hard to tell left from right when everything looked the same. Holding out a claw, he watched one of the flakes fall into his palm. Cold, should be cold, always cold there. Looking up again, he started walking forward.
Slowly but surely, the scene began to chance. The utter blankness started to take shape, folding over itself into dunes and mounds. Tree-like shapes spurt up from the ground. Textures and orientation grew from the new environment. Everything was still white, but Weavile could feel the crunch of snow beneath his feet and could see the sparkle of icicles hanging from the tree branches.
There were others there. Small black bodies somehow blending into the pure white surroundings. They always hid in the shadows of the snow, watching, avoiding, there but not there. Weavile could feel his ears twitch at the new company. They weren't worth his time. As long as he ignored them, they'd go away and he'd be alone with the falling snow once again. It was a choreographed dance that both parties had memorized long ago. The silent music never changed.
But someone took one step forward when they were supposed to take two steps back.
"What are you doing here?"
"Leave."
"You're not welcome here."
"Go away. This isn't your home."
This wasn't a part of the dance. They had never spoken to him before. Weavile was not sure how to respond. He stood his ground, simply watching the faceless black bodies.
"Go."
"Leave."
"Leave!"
Another misstep. Weavile could feel himself tripping. More like they were trying to make him trip. But why? The dance had worked for years, settled on a mutual agreement. Why change it now?
That was when he noticed the new bodies in the crowd. They were larger than the black ones, but still faceless. The new figures seemed familiar, like Weavile had met them before his old trainer, Mask, Samus, Lugia, Blacky, Hojita, Xatu, Zelda, Vashta, Midna but he couldn't say when or how.
He was in his ginjinka form now. He tried to take a step forward, but the muttering of the figures increased in volume and temperament.
"Human!"
"You don't belong!"
"We were never good enough for you!"
"You were never good enough for us!"
"Leave! Now!"
They were completely surrounding him now. Faceless bodies stood on every side, seamlessly blending into the white environment yet standing out in Weavile's periphery. They were everywhere.
And yet he was still alone.
Always alone.
He was walking through a blank expanse. Everything was blindingly white and seemed to go on forever. He was in his evolved Pokemon form, but that fact didn't seem important. Glancing around, there was nothing to see for miles. And yet it felt oddly familiar. So much white. It was almost like...
White flakes started floating down from the sky. At least he assumed it was the sky, since they were coming from an upward direction. It was hard to tell left from right when everything looked the same. Holding out a claw, he watched one of the flakes fall into his palm. Cold, should be cold, always cold there. Looking up again, he started walking forward.
Slowly but surely, the scene began to chance. The utter blankness started to take shape, folding over itself into dunes and mounds. Tree-like shapes spurt up from the ground. Textures and orientation grew from the new environment. Everything was still white, but Weavile could feel the crunch of snow beneath his feet and could see the sparkle of icicles hanging from the tree branches.
There were others there. Small black bodies somehow blending into the pure white surroundings. They always hid in the shadows of the snow, watching, avoiding, there but not there. Weavile could feel his ears twitch at the new company. They weren't worth his time. As long as he ignored them, they'd go away and he'd be alone with the falling snow once again. It was a choreographed dance that both parties had memorized long ago. The silent music never changed.
But someone took one step forward when they were supposed to take two steps back.
"What are you doing here?"
"Leave."
"You're not welcome here."
"Go away. This isn't your home."
This wasn't a part of the dance. They had never spoken to him before. Weavile was not sure how to respond. He stood his ground, simply watching the faceless black bodies.
"Go."
"Leave."
"Leave!"
Another misstep. Weavile could feel himself tripping. More like they were trying to make him trip. But why? The dance had worked for years, settled on a mutual agreement. Why change it now?
That was when he noticed the new bodies in the crowd. They were larger than the black ones, but still faceless. The new figures seemed familiar, like Weavile had met them before his old trainer, Mask, Samus, Lugia, Blacky, Hojita, Xatu, Zelda, Vashta, Midna but he couldn't say when or how.
He was in his ginjinka form now. He tried to take a step forward, but the muttering of the figures increased in volume and temperament.
"Human!"
"You don't belong!"
"We were never good enough for you!"
"You were never good enough for us!"
"Leave! Now!"
They were completely surrounding him now. Faceless bodies stood on every side, seamlessly blending into the white environment yet standing out in Weavile's periphery. They were everywhere.
And yet he was still alone.
Always alone.