Open Legends (Finally!)

[Dar]

(Sorry this took so long! Also, decide where your character will be, and eventually everyone will be grouped together.)

Alicia sat down on the rock, panting. She finally lost them. She buried her face in her hands, and smelled the sea air that always seemed to be coming from her pores. She uncovered her face, and gazed out at the lake before her. It was dirty, completely soaked in filth. It disgusted her. She walked out to the water, and dipped her toe in. Moment later, the lake was as clear as the sky. She saw fish swimming at the bottom, searching for food. Near her she saw a school of tadpoles, most of them just growing her legs. It made her smile.

She stuck her other foot onto the water, and began to walk. No matter how many times she did it, the feeling of excitement never left her. Waling on the water, she felt like the messiah. She was never very religious, but she imagined this is what it felt like. She gazed up to the sky, and felt the sun's warmth on her face. She cherished this moment. There were few where she was truly happy.

 

[kyeugh]

Five, four, three, two... Rust remained dormant in the water, only his hair moving as the tiny currents pushed each little hair this way and that. He had been waiting down here for a very, very long time; about thirty minutes, without coming up for air once. After his family discovered his affinity for the water, they were ever forcing him to perform little tricks for houseguests. This one was his least favorite, as it involved simply sitting in the water for a long period of time.

Of course, he had no real problem with sitting in the water; no, Rust loved the water, he loved everything about it. Unfortunately, sitting in it without movement wasn't exactly his idea of fun, in the water or not.

One. Now he kicked the ground and shot upward like a rocket, breaking the surface of the water without a splash and twirling acrobatically. He landed on his feet gracefully, on land once again, greeted by impressed cheers and a choir of clapping hands.

"You're too kind," he said to the small audience, his voice without emotion. They really were too kind. Rust desperately wished someone wasn't impressed with his useless talents. He gave a look to his mother, the one that meant "Can I go now?" and she gave him an affirmative. Good. I hate everyone out here anyway.

Rust walked to the door when he realized he was still wet; he shook his pale body and virtually every last molecule of water flung itself from him, leaving him absolutely dry. Rust let out a relieved sigh and walked away. He wasn't going into the house; Rust was headed for the beach.

 

[Momo(th)]

Charlotte woke up from her makeshift "bed". Removing the discarded newspapers off of her body, she stretched her body and was welcomed with a healthy dose of sunlight. She stood up, disturbing some nearby rats' from their daily morning scavenges.

Up yet? a deep voice said in her head.

I'm up! I'm up! she said in reply, still somewhat tired despite resting for nearly an entire day. First day I've gotten sleep in like half a week!

Regardless, we must escape this . . . metal heap. He replied, a thick tone of disdain scarring his voice.

Charlotte crouched around the dumpster she was sleeping behind. The city was already in action, with cars (and horns) blaasting her eardrums. She blinked. How on earth did she sleep through all this discord? Looking to see if the coast was clear, she walked casually along the street, the unfeeling crowd not raising an eyebrow, as homelessness was an unfortunate but rampant case throughout this section of the city. Charlotte walked past a particularly reflected display window, and noticed that her hair was still a disheveled mess.

"Ohh," she moaned to herself privately, which was greeted by a quick snort.

What's so funny? she ask him, controlling her temper. Giratina did not respond.

Noticing a nearby paper stand, she looked at the cover to see that, once again, she was the top story.

"UNIDENTIFIED BEING STILL HUNTED. MAYOR URGES ALL TO TAKE CAUTION".

She walked past it without another moment's time.

Of course you are going to be the most noticed story in this city. I doubt your world is used to flying dragons saving random humans.

Charlotte couldn't help but agree. Thankfully, the photo was clearly taken by an amateur, no doubt taken by a phone. The only thing they could see was a black silhouette with a pair of huge wings. If she had been a bystander, surely she would have just wrote it off as a stunt, or perhaps an illusion.

Don't count on it. replied the beast.

 

[RNP]

(Sorry if this post isn't that great. I have Writer's block. Also, my italic isn't working to use on thoughts.)


Keith was in a forest in northwestern Michigan. He woke up from his deep sleep, hitting his head on a tree branch. It didn't hurt, due to the iron horns under his hat. Nevertheless, he never got used to sleeping in trees. "Every time,"Keith said to himself- and Cobalion.

Finally awake. I see you're still hitting your head on branches,said Cobalion

Shut up. I jerked my head up because you yelled in my dream.

Well then, get rid of that habit.

A habit's a habit!

So is forgetting to sharpen my horns. I got over it.

Says the Pokemon with steel will.

Let's just get going. Your habit of talking instead of thinking might kick in.

And with that, they were off, to the far city.

 

[Momo(th)]

Are you ready? asked the voice in her deep subconscious.

Yeah, she thought. The sky was inky black, the moon was hidden behind a veil of clouds. She was standing on top of a rather tall skyscraper, staring down at the slowly moving clusters of light below. Evidently, it must be a terrible day for traffic.

Quit stalling.

Charlotte shuddered as she got on her knees. Before she gave in to her impending doom, she quickly took of her clothes, as she had learned her lesson the first time this has happened. The instant she finished doing so, a pain flowed through her like an all-consuming pain. It took all of her might to not scream in never-ending agony, as it was difficult enough to sneak up on a private building. Slowly, she could feel the flesh on her back tear open, as spikes began to burst from her skin, blood dripping as the rest of the wings tore through her. Her hair, messy and dirty, began to flow perfectly straight, then folding into what could be described as a strange combination of dreadlocks and braids. The torment was far from over, as she could feel her body, distorting and streching, until she was at least twice her original hight, and also probably twice as thin. Just as she had believed her plight was over, a fresh, new wave of eternal suffering contorted her once more, as a pair of new hands, slightly thinner than her now-long arms, exploded out of her twisted body. As she starred at then with horror, she felt her eyes starting to become too big for it's sockets, as her skull began to crack and change to accommodate the now blood-red eyes

The transformation only took a fraction of a second, and the pain quickly subsided almost as soon as it had came. Almost.

That's new, Giratina commented, his voice now completely clear; it didn't not sound like his usual tired monotone.

Charlotte could only gasp at them, or so she would if not for the lack of a mouth. Her body felt frail, yet strangely powerful, as she observed her new arms.

You know what this means, right?

She shook her head.

I'll eventually be strong enough so that you fully transform into my body. That hair? Doubtless that it will eventually turn into tentacles.

Charlotte tried to scream: it was the only way how she could deal with this horror, but sound could not escape the void that was her face.

You're merely a puddle of my former self. A shadow.

Slowly recovering from the shock, she got up carefully and noticed that a small patch of yellow scales her jet-black shadow that was once her skin.

See?

Shaking, she managed to stand on her feet without support. Her "hair" was flapping wildly, yet there was no wind tonight; they simply moved to their own accord. She pulled out a scrunchy from her discarded jeans, and forced the tentacles into a ponytail, whom acted oddly silent as she did so, as if they were disappointed.

Her wings, however, felt just as powerful as they had the first time she transformed. Now feeling confident, she allowed a wave of raw power to stream through her body, warming her to her core as a shadowy aura surrounded her, humming softly. She walked quickly and devoid of sound to the rail of the building, with a strange, almost forced sense of courage and excitement edging her on.

Don't get cocky, said the beast, as Charlotte dived off the skyscraper, the wind rushing to her face, as her wings caught flight.

 

[Ulqi-chan]

"You are a foolish girl," the voice boomed, causing the dazed human to jump.

Clar shook her head half-heartedly, twisting her arm this way and that. The slash wasn't that deep, but still, it hurt. The blood had stopped flowing at this point, though the trails of dried crimson wrapped around her arm like a crude bracelet—while she was running away from those God-forsaken hunters, the wind had forced them to run up and down her skin in odd designs.

But she had somehow managed to lose them while barreling through the forest, even after one of the men had sliced through her arm with a knife. Her survival was a mystery to both Clar and the one residing in her, but both were equally thankful she made it out alive.

Now she was at a beach, crouching on her knees near the water as she caught her breath and tried to determine where she was. Ever since she abandoned home days before she had headed south, and though a few places were familiar, this beach and those woods had not jogged her memory.

"And don't even think of washing it off in the sea water," Virizion hissed as the girl dipped her fingers into the liquid. "You should have looked for a lake or a stream for freshwater—not the ocean for saltwater."

"I'm not stupid," Claribel replied evenly, watching the waves pull back from the sand as she rubbed the dried blood streaks, causing them to flake off. "I won't get the water into the wound itself. I'm just cleaning up a bit with what I've got. But I'm sorry I've not lived up to your expectations. All that matters is that we've escaped; is that not good enough for you?"

Virizion scoffed. "Barely. You ought to redeem yourself by locating civilization again and finding a way to bandage that up. Going to a hospital is out of the question, lest we risk the chance that they wish to cut you open for your... interesting appearance."

"There are people that look crazier than me, and no one opted to operate on them to see what they're made of." Clar blinked. "I'd say considering all that's happened to me, I look as normal as I'll get."

"You never looked nor seemed normal to begin with," Virizion quipped, and her voice faded away.

Clar mulled over that statement, amber eyes staring at the ocean vacantly, before a small grin pulled at her lips. Perhaps Virizion was right; she wasn't exactly "normal." Much less so now, of course, as she was deemed a fugitive in the eyes of the law, and a burden in the eyes of her family. She had asked for their help early on when the transformation first took place, but after seeing her face plastered on the local news as a public safety hazard, they severed ties with her altogether. They shunned her to uphold their reputation.

Surprising? No, not really. She actually expected they would do much worse, like hunt her down themselves—or rather, hire someone else to. But perhaps they still retained some love toward her, however meager the portion.

Well, that just goes to show what sort of life I've been living. I'm a failure, an outcast, a disgrace. I've shamed my family, shamed myself, shamed our community. I've been reared to give honor to my parents and get sent off to be the wife of another rich family—just to be squashed like a bug and erased from history. And yet, I'm not surprised at all. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Maybe the life of a disgrace and threat to society—how she had managed to threaten anyone or anything was still unknown to her—was better than being normal. There's more excitement in a life on the lam, I suppose.

 

[kyeugh]

Rust sat at the beach, letting the salty water lap at him from all directions as he gazed intently at the sky. After all he'd been through, the sky and the sea were the only things that interested him. He had seen the cruelty that is innate in all living things in the world, and the land disgusted him. Beneath the sea and in the air, he was truly free, for once. No one could disturb him if they couldn't reach him.

Rust looked back at the sea. How he longed to return to its depths, become his truest form and delve deep into the ocean. He wanted to sleep again, as he had for centuries before, and never awake this time.

How did he awaken, again? It had slipped his mind, somehow...

Ah, that's right. There was a storm brewing, a terrible storm, and it woke him. He had awoken to investigate it, to find nothing was there. He looked all about him and saw no storm, but he felt one, and he knew something was wrong. So he resurfaced, became acclimated with the current times, and saw that a storm was indeed brewing. It just wasn't the kind of storm he had hoped for.

He had to restrain himself. The feral part of him was roaring, writhing within him and clawing its way from his heart and fighting to be free, but Rust had to quell it. He didn't actually want to quell it, though, and that was the tough part. Both the civil part of him and the feral part of him wanted to return to the glorious sea, wings spread, but he could not. He could not lose control again...

...could...​

...not...​

Pull yourself together. Rust paddled back to the surface of the water, his face breaking the border between sea and air. That was close; too close. One more slip-up and you might end up destroying a city. Again.

Something occurred to Rust, then. I don't care. I don't.

I don't care.

I do not care I do not care I do not care I DO NOT C A R E.

I don't. Care.

Rust allowed a grin to cross his face for once, and he watched as his pale skin became even paler, totally white, like a cloud. Here we go here we go here we go.

A laugh escaped him, but it ended a roar. It was a high, shriek of a roar, but a roar nonetheless; and Rust was gone. A huge, white mass was visible for a brief second before disappearing into the water again, leaving nothing but stirring waves behind it.

 

[RNP]

You really should bathe more. I can smell what you smell
They were walking through a dense forest, and looking for a lake to bathe in.
"It's kind of hard when we can't find a lake. I can't bathe without-"
Suddenly, Cobalion shouted, Hunters. Transform and run like a cheetah
"Worst of times, as always." Then he transformed.
He stopped a scream by biting down on a branch, and his skin turned into light blue iron. He bent over as his muscles nearly quadrupled in size. Not enough to be as strong or as big as Cobalion,or to have his skin turn into plates, but enough to resemble him.
He then began to run.
I don't know how you ever get used to running with iron for skin, or with four legs, but at least it hurts less than transforming., Keith said.
After hours of running, they reached a city. We should be at least safer than in a forest, where they expect Pokemon to be.
So they walked into the city.