The main purpose of this chapter is to contrast the outside world to the dark Team Rocket and illustrate what effect the later has on someone. Being forced to fight for one's 'master' is wrong, but it doesn't have to be torture; they can still influence their own fate.
It almost seemed like I could have divided this into two chapters; the first part was so different from the flashback...but believe me, the friendly PT Tourney rules will carry a lot of influence later on. The end also presents Mewtwo with a goal of sorts; one that is a lot different from her predecessor's 'take over the world' bit.
Hmmm. You know, I *had* planned on making this whole story a lot shorter, but I've started to really enjoy this. I love getting into the characters' heads and exploring different possibilities. (I've even planned a sequel-ack!) 'Meaning through seemingly commonplace experiences,' that seems to be what I keep getting back to. Life in itself is an allegory -Although plot is good to, lol.
"A PT Tourney," Began Brian, the following afternoon, "is an 'unofficial Pokemon Trainer's Tournament.' They divide you ...err, us humans, I mean... into categories according to the number of badges we got, if any. Then the Pokemon battle... that's all, *really.*"
This explanation was lavished upon with words of pleading and of praise, to the Pokemon who could win it all for him, if ever she cared to battle... -But her eyes were haunted by the event, though Brian could not see them, as she listened from his breast pocket. 'Why?' -No telepathic vision, not even that cryptic glimmer of 'centered-ness' she saw in the boy, at first could make him understand.
Mewtwo flatly refused, reminding him of the promise he had made; she was her own master, he would give her no orders. Brian stomped his foot childishly in frustration, but she tried to appear indifferent. -A skill that had served her well in harder times...
Wishing simply to be left alone, the super-Pokemon minimized further and leapt, undetected, onto some overhanging branch close to the bustling event. Perhaps this was in response to some far-removed feline instinct, mused Anne from the sidelines. Often had her own Meowth watched, unconcerned, as the world scurried by. ...So many stuffy parties whiled away atop her parents bookshelf...so many times she wished she could do the same...
**Who *knows* what runs through a cat's mind, while they're up there... Maybe they know the secret to it all. -Or maybe they are just the only ones among us who care to look...**
The scene below sprang into action. Dotting battlers burst from their Pokeballs and proceeded to stare each other down. Humans talked excitedly about things she didn't yet understand. Music played in the background and 'cheap soda flowed freely.' To tell the truth, the alien onlooker might have enjoyed herself, if circumstances had been different...
**...If the event didn't revolve around Pokemon bashing each other senseless...If it weren't that with one miscalculated action, I would be down there, doing the same...** She leaned closer, darkly curious either way.
Brian was paired against some faceless trainer, who called forth a Raichu to match his faithful Growlithe, (whose qualms were of a different nature.) It was no doubt more of an even battle than the one that had cost his owner the Earthbadge. This was encouraging, but the puppy was hardly guaranteed a win.
"Rai-chu, rai, chu...raichu." (Oh, one of those amateur things... this should be easy.) The chubby mouse was being boastful; Growlithe backed off resentfully.
"Growlithe?! Growlithe...grr, *growl!*" (Oh, yeah?! I'll put up a fight...I can still *fight!*) He was remembering, as was his trainer, that brief and devastating loss. Neither of the other party seemed to notice; Raichu chattered on, enthusiastically.
"We just came from winning one of those Volcanobadges, ya know." She clenched her fists emphatically. "Do you have one of those...? You must or you wouldn't be in this category, huh?! It was a tough fight...tougher than *this* will be! -But I gave that Magmar one of my 'Mega-Kicks'...POW! POW!, just like that!"
The Raichu glanced up at her trainer's approving, and yet oblivious glare. -It was an expression battlers come to recognize and, at that sad point when the wild waywardness leaves them, to relish. Brian had sported that unthinking glint many times, before now...but Giovanni had never been so compassionate.
"Well, umm..." Growlithe kicked carelessly at some loose pebble at their feet. "I almost got an Earthbadge, a while back..."
**...Almost?! -Hardly!** Mewtwo, of course, understood this conversation though their masters did not.
"-It's a lot harder than any darn Volcanobadge...humans, they don't know what it's like to fight. My master's nice, but I think he's a little disappointed in me..." She nodded, sadly. "If I don't win this time...a fire stone...he says he won't do it, but..."
He feared evolution, much in the same way that people fear death. -To lose yourself forever with one painful, irreversible action...this would haunt him for the rest of his life, however much Brian would assure him otherwise. Raichu knew well this fear; she had all but forgotten what her previous form was like. The mouse nodded, understandingly.
The battle was thus *thrown,* so that it was conducted more like a well-choreographed dance than a savage free-for all. Thunderbolts and flares lit the rustic arena- one would dodge and the other would tackle; it was all very impressive looking. -Such a thing was common within the world of Pokemon. Many times it was not elemental strengths and weaknesses at all that decided battles, but a will to win- or a lack thereof. This way, the captured creatures were partly in charge of their own fate...and their 'masters' were none the wiser. Mewtwo, being 'bilingual', could have pointed this out- *but somehow the whole conspiracy seemed like a good idea.*
In the end, it was Raichu who was pinned to the ground, and Growlithe who was happily received into his master's arms. His opponent had not passed out from exhaustion, however, which was another, more well- known PT Tourney secret.
**In gym battles, you are to fight 'to the bitter end', so to speak. Then what is this?! -How can it be so different?!** A certain bitterness ate away at Mewtwo's soul, seeing this carefree display; an unbearable notion that she had been shafted in life. It was perhaps because of this that her predecessor had tried to force a world of injustice into submission...and because of this that she had distanced herself from it completely.
**PT Tourneys are just friendly sparring matches. Nothing's at stake, really; it doesn't mean anything.** (Of course, there was always an exception. -Anne's Meowth sat in her own corner of the ramada, gnawing happily on the remains of her opponent's Pidgey...)
The Tournament lasted long after this particular battle. -Winners were declared and evening breathed upon the sea of motorhomes that spread out over the landscape, -but Mewtwo saw none of it. Thoughts of the past overcame her; memories of battles she *had* fought in. Such introspection might have been written off as a 'genetic peculiarity of the species,' by science; much about her was. Yes, she knew well the ways of science, and loathed them; loathed the very thing that had created her.
A dark corridor lead from Mewtwo's familiar laboratory; she trudged it with the heavy heart of a condemned woman. Just ahead loomed the Team Rocket Boss, bathed in hungry shadows that consumed her, too. They fell upon her warm flesh, covering it in a thick crust of metal and electronics.
-Cold, cold... hopefully cold enough to extinguish the flame of *existence* that he feared burned within his masterful machine. -*Mew* was the greatest threat to his Mewtwo.
**...A machine, that is all I am to him.** She mused, bitterly. **If he wanted a mindless servant, why did he not use steel instead of flesh and blood?!** He was beginning to wonder that, himself.
Giovanni snapped, and the corridor's end parted to reveal a grand and gothic room, with *smooth white lines* painted at their feet; the Viridian City gym. Mewtwo recognized this in a flood of unlearned knowledge; weaknesses of creatures she had never seen, tactics in a game she had never played. This made up a great deal of the notes her creators had written in her brain; she shooed these notions away in disgust, like a fly buzzing in one's ear.
**He is trying to control how I think. He believes that if he controls my brain, then there is nothing left of me that he does not own.** She crossed her arms defiantly, knowing not the reason for her icy armor...but realizing when he did not, that *fire melts ice.*
There were others in the room; she noticed them now. However, they were not the figures she was used to seeing, from her vantage point amid the bustle of 'science in action.' They had no emotionless lab coats, but were hidden by armor, much like her own. She recognized immediately who they were; the scientists often compared her aloud to 'the other two Mewtwos,' though she had not met any of her own kind until now.
"Hello." She whispered at a venture. They were all endlessly intrigued with each other, which - thought Giovanni from his safe and superior balcony above them- was surprising. He had almost expected them to kill each other on sight, like jealous cocks thrown into the ring together. -But these monsters, who held within their minds so much hideous power, appeared civil... 'Lonely' was more the word, though it never would have occurred to the Team Rocket Boss to use it. -Yes, forever alone in a world that cared nothing for them; all Mewtwos knew well this feeling, especially the first.
"I wish we were not wearing this idiotic armor, so I could see what you *really* look like..." One nodded sadly and silently, while the other reached up and gingerly touched his sore temples. They, too, had fought against the hand that wrenched their powers from them, the previous night. -But they were not as 'strong' as she; he had very nearly taken their *wild spirit*, too. Her eyes glowed in anger on their behalf, but Giovanni interpreted it otherwise.
"-Shall we begin, then? ...You should already know the basics of Pokemon battling, which is, of course, what we *do* here. This is an official Pokemon League Gym; children bring their most highly trained Pokemon here to do battle with you. If they win, they get an 'Earthbadge-' the last badge in the series."
He held one of the tiny pins up for them to see. Mewtwo wondered why something named for the earth that bound them bore the image of a feather- that which frees birds from it. He did not explain, if in fact he knew, himself. **In any case, they are only Pokemon. It seems ridiculous that I should be speaking to them like this, at all!**
"...But it is *highly* unlikely that *they* will win. You- all three of you- are the most powerful Pokemon alive. You are stronger even than you Mews you were cloned from..."
"Do any Mews still live?" It seemed unnatural that their DNA could be all that was left of them; 'the Mew she was' still flitted teasingly within her dreams. "And I heard of another Mewtwo, before us. What happened to *him*?" He clenched his fist angrily at his mention. **Must the female ask so many *&%$* questions?!**
"It doesn't matter. I don't know- no one knows what became of them. The first Mewtwo... geez, for all I know, he killed himself with his own *&%$* powers, like he did all of my best scientists! ...But that's not for *you* to know! I'm trying to explain the concept of battling, now; that's all you need to concern yourself with!" He paused, regaining a stoic composure.
"*As I was saying*... this, however, is not an official gym battle. You have each demonstrated an awareness of your psychic powers, though much delayed and much less... violent... than the first."
"Thank God!" Breathed one of the scientists, crossing himself. -Strangely ironic, considering the line of work he was in.
"-Errumm, yes...that is why I am providing you with a training session. You may test your powers as much as you like. -I, too, am eager to see what develops." He eyed her critically, a full three inches shorter than the rest of her species. No one knew how a *female* Mewtwo would perform in battle; she was an experiment in and of herself.
The scientist fearfully corrected him, and thus their powers were limited to a sort of 'show-pony' level that was adequate for battle. In later times, this would be the source of much frustration, but now the whole idea just seemed 'appalling.' They blinked and saw each other in a new light, though they had only recently seen each other at all.
"Battle...?! ...You mean 'try to harm *them?!*' ...I have no reason to; they are like...my *brothers!*"
"You will fight because I *tell you to fight!* I *created* you! I am your *master;* you will do as I order!" Giovanni's eyes burned red with anger; hers glowed purple, in response. It was an eternal battle of wills; ice verses fire. The 'troubling female' might have done as he ordered and used her new-found powers to cause great pain- but *he* would have been he target. Yes, perhaps...
...Perhaps much would have happened, if the hatred gathering momentum in her eyes had not, once again, been misinterpreted. Her 'brother,' already lightheaded and fearing the uncertain damage she might inflict, took aim. The black mass of psychic energy was seen too late...and his fellow Mewtwo fell, her own intentions cut short.
Mewtwo glanced away quickly, the anguish of that moment being more than she wished to relive.
**My brothers, my brothers...** Many times after that did they fall by each other's hand. -She had learned to fight back, or else be killed... then she had learned to win... Oh, the violet eyes of her 'brothers,' so like her own...those demanded the most attention, in so many a fevered dream.
**Why could we not fight by these kinder rules?! If we *had* to battle, why could we not be taken adoringly into our trainer's arms, afterwards?! ...Why did I have to *'fight to the bitter end,* against my own kind...?! **
Tears gathered where all that destructive power once had- tears of remorse, loneliness and an unhealing pain. Society at large believes a Mewtwo's eyes to be unfeeling...but they are mistaken.
A crescent moon hovered, ghostlike, amid its blanket of stars. Such is an ethereal tapestry; -she mused- that stretches over all.
**Perhaps they can see it from the lab's meager windows... and perhaps...** She paused remembering, though bitterly, Giovanni's vague answer. **...And perhaps my predecessor can, too. ... Perhaps he is not dead at all...perhaps he is gazing up at the night sky, tearful over sad events that have transpired, as am I...**
The 'super- Pokemon' longed to know for sure, but no great wisdom held within the stars would reveal itself. -Mewtwos are psychic, but they know not the future; a fact she would have traded all her existing powers to change.
"You asked me once what I plan to do, and now I can tell you." Mewtwo concluded some time later, to her fellow runaways. "If my brothers cannot be with me in freedom, then... I will find the one who came before me...and tell him he is no longer alone."
So, tell me what you think. What do you predict will happen next? How is my style, now that I am several chapters into the story? (It may help me out with the next chapter, lol!)