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Open Darkness Rising

After the Grimer released his Bide, the battle grew to be flurries of movement and rushes of noise, too frantic for Flora to follow. While she could easily identify Cresselia - the glowing area which was constantly either the target or initiator of an attack. So many Pokemon had begun attacking that Flora was unwilling to attempt anything for fear of hurting her fellow Creatures of Darkness. Then she reconsidered, and made to fly at the enemy.

She slowed as Cresselia drifted toward the ground. Cresselia vaguely muttered something, and then the moon seemed to shatter. Glass-like pieces fell as the clouds cleared and it was only the realization that the night was Dark that Cresselia's death became fact in Flora's mind.

Giddy, she flew a few loops in the air. No, she hadn't done much to aid the others, but the mere fact that Cresselia was gone forever pleased her to no end.

But...

She glanced around. There were a few injured and at least two knocked out - the Grimer and an...Azurill? He wasn't dead, and everybody seemed to be ignoring him, so perhaps he wasn't sided with the light, but she would keep an eye on him until she was certain.

Now calm, she floated towards the Grimer who had a gigantic grin plastered on his face. He deserved it; using Bide like he had was brilliant. She would tell him that when he woke. Flora made sure that she was in substantial form, then gently tapped his sludge-like body with the heart at the end of a "string". She shuddered; he was a bit slimy. When he didn't respond, she attempted a harder poke - and ended up stuck. The end of her appendage was almost completely submerged in the pile of sludge, and when she tried to pull herself free she barely moved. Mentally giggling at her situation, she went insubstantial and easily floated her heart out of the Grimer.

Deciding to try a different tack (one that wasn't so messy), she said, "Hi. You okay? Are you gonna wake up for me?"
 
Luno' sludgy being stirred slightly, rippling. A bubbling groan rose from his formless mouth.

"Aughh, my head!" he mumbled, roughly-shaped arm slithering from his body and clutching the top of the mass. It felt like he'd been hit with lightning that had been on fire and then had exploded.

Wait, did that make sense?

The place where Lunoso's brain would be pounded. He couldn't concentrate enough to float, so he began dragging himself along the ground like his relatives did, like he had once done. And now did. Done. Does?

His head really hurt.
 
Melpomene watched with amusement as the others took down Cresselia, the bright flash of a Thunder making her shield her eyes, but otherwise she was safe from any attacks it seemed. She laughed when the psychic type fell, and wrenched the needle from her chest, the hole sealing up. It still stung, but the needle had been the real annoyance.

The Banette hovered forward, leaning over Cresselia's fallen body, her zipper pulled into a wide grin and eyes glowing red. She kicked the creature's neck, laughing, then held up a clawed hand.

>'Darkness cannot defeat the Light'? Well what just happened, eh, you irritating little bitch? We killed you. You hear me? Killed you! Your precious Light didn't save you, you are weak and worthless.< Melpomene hissed, mental voice high and shrill, with a tinge of anger.

She brought the clawed hand she had been holding up down in a wide swing, skewering Cresselia's neck on the three long, needle-like points, then ripped back towards her, tearing out the psychic's throat with a flourish. She tilted her head back and looked up to the sky.

>This is what happens when you try and stop us, you foul Light-Beasts! Do you hear me?! I, Miss Melpomene Murder, will cut you down myself, for I am the mighty hand of Our Lord Giratina!<

((Melpomene sounds like a crazy religious nutter :C))
 
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Fenos popped his head out of the ground like a three-year-old. Continuing that frame of mind, he yelled "That....was....AWESOME!" Still sore from the Swift, he sort of limped to the Bannette that hehad disrespected earlier. He wondered why he wasn't surprised when he saw that she had Cresselia's throat in her clutches. He apologized. "I'm sorry, I was acting like a jerk." he said. "Nice....zipper....thingy...." he continued nervously.
 
"Oy, you, quiet down over-!" Lunoso began angrily at the Banette, before widening his eyes as he noticed the Light guts in her claws. How... morbid. "Umm, never mind," he mumbled, instead turning to a Drifloon who had apparently roused him from unconsciousness.

"Erm, hello. What's up?" the Grimer punned, although he wasn't sure he was up to a stoning.

"I'm Lunoso, call me Luno. What's your name? I hope it's not something like Puffy; that would be airheaded, huh?" He was on a roll. Punning was helping him feel better.
 
Lucidia was calm until there was some sort of loud noise behind her. She whirled around, and then something picked her up. She let out a startled bark, but flailed helplessly in the grip of the Nidoking. All she could do was quietly whine until he stopped talking, and then... the ground rushed at her like a comet, and she whimpered as it smashed against her bones. It really hurt, but she didn't want to call for help; she could still move. The Houndour waited until the Pokemon who was technically her temporary enemy receded with his footsteps, and she sat up, her joints protesting from the impact.

Once she had pulled herself together, she thought about howling, but that wouldn't help anything. Instead, she turned around and skulked back into the clearing, glaring at the Poison-type although his back was turned. How dare he?! It's not like she was nearly as strong as the others. Even her attacks had barely done anything, and even though Cresselia's moves had little effect, it's not like she had Thick Fat or anything. But provoking a fight wouldn't help; she growled silently to herself as she paced, staring at the ground.
 
Meletios took wing. There wasn't anything going on at the moment, as they did just fight a big battle. But then he peered in the direction of Cresselia's corpse, and turned that way.

As the Banette, Melpomene, ripped the lunar Pokemon's throat out, Meletios thought.

"Hahaha.", he laughed, "We just killed a rather powerful being, didn't we? Struck down like... like... ah, I can't think of anything interesting to say."

Then, he said, "Ah... I'm kinda cold."
 
At the Grimer's - Luno's - first pun, Flora simply blinked, but upon hearing the second she couldn't help but laugh loudly. "No, nothing that overused," she replied. "My name's Flora, oddly enough - sounds too grassy in my opinion. Nice to meet you, Luno."

She paused, wondering what to say, but quickly remembered what she had wanted to tell him. "That was awesome, the way you used Bide. It looked really painful, but I think it helped, and I doubt many others would have thought of it."

((Darn, I wanted to insert a pun but my creativity ran dry.))
 
Fainting rarely lasted very long. The more damage a pokemon took, generally, the longer it might take to rouse itself, but unless the pokemon was dying, fainting did not last beyond an hour at most. Usually, it was a few minutes. Fainting could even be resisted for a time, if one was desperate or determined enough.

But severe mental damage was rather different. The worst kind could destroy a pokemon and leave it comatose until it died. This was even possible for ghosts, as all pokemon had a mind that was, when one really thought about it, frighteningly fragile. Dark-types were immune only because psychics could literally not perceive them, except with their five secondary senses, the physical ones used by most other pokemon. But once this immunity was removed, even they could be crushed forever. Steel-types and especially other psychics had minds that were more difficult to damage, but even they could be ended easily.

Certainly, Cresselia was powerful enough to destroy Phren's mind completely, even when she didn't concentrate all of her power into doing so. Phren was, perhaps, lucky that she had incurred so much damage by that point that her concentration was significantly weakened, and that her anger clouded her mind. That she still could not help but feel some pity toward him was not luck, but it was fortunate all the same. But he was unconscious, still, beyond the scope of standard fainting.

So why was he opening his eyes?

The simple answer was that he was not, although the eyes of others would certainly not agree. The eyes of the azurill were opening, yes, but it was not Phren.

Wanderer was, save for a single burn from a swift star and shivers from the icy wind, mostly unharmed. His movements were not hindered, though they were awkward and clumsy. He pulled his ball out behind him, but he did not sit on the ball as Phren normally did. He just stared at Cresselia, letting out a soft whimper. It felt as though something cold was tightly gripping something deep inside him. When Cresselia's throat was ripped out, bits of bloody flesh spraying a short distance, followed by a quickly-growing pool of blood.

But still, he did not scream. Trying to do so had never worked, before. The dark, cursed thing now dormant inside him had always been so powerful, even when asleep, that he could not make himself heard. He did not have a throat to wear raw, so he only stopped screaming after several days. One could scream while one was afraid, panicked, angry, desperate, or grieving, but when one had given up, there was no motivation. And now? If he screamed, he would be heard. Then he'd be killed. He could see what Phren did, and he knew this much.

He was silent and tried to shrink into the ground, to disappear, as the others around him started to celebrate. He jumped whenever a pokemon of the Dark approached, and couldn't help but step back. It wasn't the same desperate panic as before. It was just that now, when he had full control, he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to die, but he was surrounded by evil. He wanted to help the Light, but they had even killed Cresselia! He had no allies, and the Dark one within would awaken soon.

He had exactly two advantages over his Dark counterpart: a cluster of weak exploding bubbles and a moderate-pressure blast of water. None would be useful here, especially now that the rain had cleared, leaving everything soaked but not quite enough.
 
((puns are off limits :P))

"Well, amorphous globs of floating goo can take a beating, I guess," Luno smiled weakly.

The Grimer was floating a bit off the ground now, about half an inch or so. That was a good sign.

"Well, you seem very down-to-earth, which is weird since you look like you've had your head in the clouds lately," said Luno, pointing at the Drifloons cloud-capped crown.

"Sooo... Cresselia's down, what do we do now?"
 
Er was momentarily distracted by a soft whimper. It came from an azurill close by. Approaching it, he bent down to get eye level to it. It hadn't exactly helped much in the fight, but it had not aided Cresselia in the fight, so he doubted it was hostile. "Why are you whimpering? You should be celebrating. That is... if you're on our side... you are on our side, right?" he asked. In his mind, this azurill was either with them, or not. If not, he would kill it, no questions asked. He never found the small creatures of the light very appealing. Some called them "cute" but that was not an adjective he'd use to describe this azulrill. It looked clumsy, and frightened. Perfect...
 
It was rather impossible to crouch down to Wanderer's level, because Wanderer was around the size of Er's leg. The monster towered over the tiny azurill, piercing red eyes terrifying him even further. "Why are you whimpering? You should be celebrating. That is... if you're on our side... you are on our side, right?" The deep voice sounded threatening no matter how Er said it, and Wanderer tried to shrink back even further. He glanced away from Er's face, not wanting to look into that massive mouth lined with rows of sharp fangs, and he fidgeted.

Lying and pretending he had a different personality than he really did was not foreign to him, because he witnessed every time Phren did so, and Phren feigned innocence nearly constantly. But he was a creature of the Light, still (he thought - could he really be one, after his body had acted as an agent of the Dark for so long?), and he did not want to use Dark tactics. And yet it was the only way for him to survive. Phren had often thought about the delicate balance between innocence and obvious darkness he'd have to maintain, and Wanderer understood. Besides, it was okay to use Dark tactics against the Dark, right? Arceus would understand. Arceus would forgive him. Besides, this way he was in the best position to defeat the Dark, surely.

Justification. That's what Phren would call it. Wanderer did not know what that meant, entirely, but Phren thought it was a disgraceful quality of the Light.

Wanderer did not know much about manipulating his tone to match the impression he wanted to make, because Phren could do it without thinking. But he was troubled, and he sounded troubled, and this suited him. He was not aware of this, for he could only lie in words.

"I - Cresselia - I - I can't - useless," he said, mind too clouded to make a coherent sentence on the spot. Upon a repeat it was easier. "I couldn't hurt her. I don't have strong attacks. I can't help! I wanted to - I can't - I just - I'm useless." He shuddered. "I want - I have to be stronger but I can't - I'm not - nothing - I can't do anything. What about - what if - they have an army. Too - they're too strong."

If he had suspected that this willingness to use Dark tactics was Phren's influence, he would have tried to find another way. He would probably fail and die, but he'd be much more reluctant even with that knowledge. He would be less reluctant if another pokemon of the Light would justify it to him, as they almost certainly would, but if that was the case he wouldn't be in this mess.

But his feelings were mostly truthful. He wanted to be stronger, but to defeat the Dark. He didn't want to hurt his brothers and sisters of the Light, as he might have to do to keep up the facade. There was a code for killing, and it required that the death be for mercy or for food, and that it be as painless as possible. It was more or less impossible for him to do so.

This moral code did not apply to the Dark. Wanderer did not question why it was so.
 
Ocent's thoughts were disturbed by a soft whimpering. The Spiritomb looked around and saw the Azurill that had been disturbing him as the source of the noise.

Odd. It seemed so fierce before in the battle, yet now it... whimpers?

This does not concern us, and yet we worry. Why would something as poerful as this show fear?

The answer should reveal itself to us in time. Until then, we should wait.

Despite this, Ocent gazed intently at the Azurill. Should anything change, Ocent would know.
 
"Floating?" Flora repeated cautiously. She floated a little closer to the ground to look at where the Grimer touched the ground - or, rather, where he should have. Instead he floated, as he'd said, almost an inch off the ground. It was hard to see with the grass being there, but he was definitely off the ground. Maybe she could ask him about that.

"Well, you seem very down-to-earth, which is weird since you look like you've had your head in the clouds lately." Luno pointed toward the cloud atop Flora's head, and she grinned. He seemed to have an endless supply of wit; it was no wonder that he had come up with such a clever move.

As to what they were supposed to do now...she was indecisive. "Well, we could go after another important Creature of Light - Ho-oh or something, maybe - that would make them listen." Yes, this sounded good - she began to inflate and couldn't hold herself back, still riled up from the battle. "And then we'll turn on their army and show them no mercy! We'll kill every last one until they see that we deserve the world!"

She was rambling, and it didn't completely make sense, but she was too morbidly angry to care. She could just imagine the looks on her parents' faces as she killed them. Perhaps they would see the error of their ways, but it would be too late. They would pay, even if revenge just meant having them watch their allies die.
 
Vanxir was angry. Not because he could of done the final blow to Cresselia. No. It was because of his stupidity. He just calmed down and reverted back to normal, but the Hunter was once again bubbling at the surface. He stalked away to the edge of the clearing and punched and slashed at a random tree. Damnit! How can I be so stupid!? Trying to use avalanche in the middle of a freakin' forest!?! Damnit! What the hell was I thinking?!?!

Eventually, he once again calmed down and walked away from the mutilated tree and leaned on another one, with his arms crossed. He took the time to survey the ragtag group. He saw a few ghosts around, a floating Grimer, which he thought was odd, a Nidorino, a Nidoking bullying a Houndour, (Which he oddly saw before) and Weavile and a Sneasel. Tch, I leave my kind, just to find more of them. He being that surprised him the most, was the Azurill. What the hell is that doing here?
 
Melpomene turned when she heard the voice of the annoying little Umbreon from before, and her zipper twisted in a frown. She glared at him in silence for a moment, claws still dripping blood, her mark glowing brilliantly, as he sputtered on meaninglessly. She made a sort of rattling sound deep in her throat - the real one - when he was done, and dropped the hunk of flesh she had been holding.

>There is only one way to atone for your sins, fool,< she growled, tilting her head forward a bit, and extending a claw. >You will pledge to me your undying loyalty, and I will mark you as my follower, my little lost lamb...understand...? I will get started now.<

She extended a single bloody claw and let it hover over Fenos' forehead, a drop of crimson dangling from the tip for a moment, before falling.
 
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Draxwea tore her fangs out of the corpse that had once been Cresselia. The blood ran differently here than from the throat and other wounds. It was more sluggish and sticky, like watery syrup.

So, her poison had worked after all. She felt rather proud, accomplished.

She needed to do something more, though, something that would show that the Dark had defeated the Light.

She then slithered over Cresselia's body, heading from the stomach to the head. When she got there, she used her tail to carefully slice off the crescent moon-shaped crest from her head.

"There is no room for Light in a world of Dark," she sneered at the corpse.
 
Shari glared around the other Pokemon of the dark, watching as a few of them mutilated Cresselia's corpse. Why dirty their claws and fangs on that garbage? She could imagine how in the day, a few light Pokemon would stumble across it and freak out, which would be rather interesting to watch. If she had the time to waste on that kind of stuff.

But there was something missing. Shari's eyes darted around the clearing, and fell upon the fallen body of Darkrai. Did they defeat a leader of the Light, for a leader of the Dark to fall as well? From across the clearing she could see the pool of blood, and rather worriedly, she made her way over to him.

Did Legendaries have hearts that pumped blood? Shari looked about the clearing for a second, before turning her attention back to the Legend. She had no way of helping him, if he was still alive, but was not going to ask the others for help. Shari seriously hoped he didn't die right there, because then it would be her fault and she wouldn't be able to live with that. That would really suck.
 
Luno reared back, surprised at the sudden outburst from the Drifloon who had been so calm moments ago. The ghost-type had inflated alarmingly. She was positively raging.

Not that she didn't have every right to, of course.

The Light's leaders had despised their kind for millennia, and fudged the 'truth' about the Dark to their progeny until they despised the Dark, too. There was neither fairness or justice for them, things which the Light boasted about possessing.

The bile that rose in Lunoso's throat at the thought could have melted through a Steelix.

"We deserve more than to hide in the dwindling shadows, my compatriot. The Light have blinded themselves to our plights, and so we must rise up," the Grimer reasoned. He would make a good public speaker.
 
Lucidia's ears twitched as some of the carnivorous Pokemon began to... eat Cresselia? Wasn't that kind of unorthodox? But after all, meat was meat, and the taste of victory was better than just about anything. Might as well try some light meat. The Houndour couldn't help wondering what it tasted like... letting her curiosity getting the better of her, she slowly wandered over to the corpse. If the others were doing it, she could just say she was following them because she always did that. Somewhat nervous but also excited, she plunged her fangs into Cresselia's side.

It was actually kind of tasty... with a unique flavor. Interested, Lucidia finished a small snack and then swiftly backed away. Victory tasted good, and at least now she wouldn't be as hungry.
 
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