literature

Thunder Strike (Thundurus Tf)

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Literature Text

The world needed a thunder genie, and that was what they would give.

Route 7 in Unova was usually the route in store for some serious weather: whether it be rain, snow or extreme sunlight. Right now, sunlight glanced through the tall rustling grass and warmed the wooden rails of the balancing bridges. There was not a single cloud in the sky, making it more than a pleasant day. There were very few people about: the odd trainer and breeder, even a harlequin or two practicing their comic acts. Nobody noticed two figures hidden in the trees. If they had, it would have been unclear what they were. If someone had seen them, they might have noticed that one wore a black clock while the other a white one, but that would be it. Neither figure moved or emitted a single sound: they were deep in concentration.

Something caused the tops of the figures to move, following a single trainer. This trainer was nothing more than a traveller: with a sturdy green backpack ladled with cooking utensils and a rolled up sleeping bag, a red T-shirt with a golden lamp in the middle, three quarter length blue shorts and black plimsolls. The man was of a different region’s origin: his sandy complexion looking a little out of sorts, along with his neat black hair and dull brown eyes. The man was trying to follow a map and looking rather lost. This was Chiragh: a man in his twenties whose job it was to investigate that construction workers were doing everything possible to not affect wild Pokémon’s livelihoods. His current destination was Twist Mountain, but even with the place standing tall behind him, Chiragh wasn’t going anywhere. It was as if he didn’t want to go any further, which was partially true. Chiragh, while enjoying helping Pokémon, didn’t feel he was doing enough to make their life better. He was also not enjoying the weather: Chiragh enjoyed the cold and wet. The feeling of rain splashing against his skin was joyous in his opinion. This was ironic given that Chiragh’s name meant lamp: he didn’t feel like the heat from a lamp anytime.

The two figures remained motionless as Chiragh stared at the mountain. As he did so, he felt a single drop against his forehead. This was followed by a second, then a third...until the skies opened with dark clouds swirling in from everywhere to cover the sun and send cascades of water. Thunder boomed and lightning struck, apparently close by as flashes lit up the forest surrounding the route. Trainers on the land did what anyone sensible would do: some travelled to the nearby houses that gave them the chance to heal their Pokémon, others entered Twist Mountain and others summoned Pokémon to fly or teleport them away. Soon, there was only Chiragh. The rain was getting heavier and heavier now, soaking through his clothes right to the skin. The lightning arched closer and the thunder boomed louder. Pokémon of the wild ran about in a mad panic, seeking any cover. Chiragh remained. Amazingly, he held his arms up and his face arched backwards as his eyes closed: enjoying the sensation of the storm. Minutes passed, hours passed, and still the storm held out. The rain was so heavy the landscape around was hard to distinguish. Despite the cold, the wet, the risk of getting ill or worse, Chiragh remained. He thought that over the distant crash he could hear two voices.

“You have been chosen.”

To anyone who had been ridiculous enough to stay in such torrential weather, the sight which they would have seen would have been met with disbelief. From the sky, clouds started to peel away and hurtle towards the ground. They collected around Chiragh’s feet, then legs, until it covered his lower torso. The fluffiness of the clouds remained and started to float, taking the man with it. Chiragh had a sensation that he wasn’t on the ground anymore, and startled out of his reverie to find that he was covered it clouds changing from depressive grey to bright white. Part of this new cloudy expanse flickered out, catching raindrops as it did. It was small, but there was now a pointed end to his cloud: a tail like thing that wasn’t a tail. Chiragh felt that he still had his legs and feet, albeit with no clothes on them, but they were a lot smaller. He didn’t know how changed they were: only that this new part of him felt, well, natural. As if his whole life had been a lie and whatever he was becoming would be his new reckoning. Little did he know that his concealed appendages would give him the ability to change his form to that of a snake like man.

With the rain having soaked through everything and sure that whatever was happening wouldn’t stop there, Chiragh peeled away his remaining clothes and watched. Where once he had been quite average to look at, not skinny but not a hunk either, he now saw that his chest had become quite thick and muscular. The only part of his upper torso that looked thinner was his waist, and that wasn’t that small! His organs felt the same, but Chiragh felt empowered by the new strength in his muscles. Blue skin was rapidly replacing his own, except for odd patches, which were a deep violet. Chiragh could feel something brewing within him: a feeling very familiar. Was it that he no longer felt damp from the beautiful rain, or that the thunder around him was a concerto of power that foretold of more to come?

His arms began thickening with increased muscles, and Chiragh had the strange sensation of his bones throbbing and pulling to make up for it. The new skin colour of sky blue was travelling along them as once again purple sprouted here and there. His hands and wrists increased in size as well. Chiragh suddenly felt it natural to place them against his chest. Doing so, he was reminded of age old sages who did likewise. With his arms close to his heart, he could feel the thrumming of wind and lightning within himself. It felt...good.

A sudden itching in his cloud caused him to look around behind him, noticing only now that his neck had increased in width as well. Chiragh watched as a long purple line began curling its way upwards, over his shoulder, and rest in front of him. Sections of it began to bulge and pop as bone was added to the new appendage. Each budge was black, and soon formed spheres with one spike on each. The spikes crackled and fizzed with pent up lightning, and Chiragh found himself sparking off, char grilling the grass that had been by his feet, as well as his clothes and backpack. The map, which had caused so much confusion, was nothing more than a pile of wet ash.

His head started to throb as his hair began to wave and elongate, transforming from the black mat to a wispy zigzag cloud of white. His ears spiked and longed a little, making him look a bit elf like. Chiragh’s nose tickled as what felt like whiskers covered and branched off to make a formidable moustache complete with six spikes across his enlarged head. His mouth opened as the lip was swallowed and teeth disappeared. Even his tongue became distant as the bottom part of his mouth lengthened in two jagged like spikes to almost rest upon his chin. The top of his now bald head gained bone and skin: a pointed purple thorn. His eyes grew as the whites turned to a flash of yellow, his pupils and irises merging together to become a mere blue dot. Thoughts whizzed through Chiragh’s head as he learned of his new purpose and what he could do: the storm was around him, within him. He was the storm!

Chiragh felt joy at that. He had changed into the legendary that was the passion of his life, the incarnate genie of thunder and lightning. Thundurus, hated for its everlasting storms. Little did they know the power within such weather: it could bring much needed rain to thirsty Pokémon and fear to troublemakers. He felt sorry for the people stuck inside, with their hate of the rain, for they wouldn’t experience his joy.

Others would. Chiragh, with a new found sense of purpose, whizzed through the air, taking the grey clouds, the mass of rain and the forks of lightning with him, adding more bolts as he flew. Time for others to meet the thunder of his life. As he did so, the weather along Route 7 changed back. People emerged, happy the storm had passed, though no one knew that the robbed figures had moved on.
Request for :iconmandl27:

I sincerely apologise for such a long wait: life has been busy due to work (they are in need of extra hours, so I do so to help and get extra money). This means that I don't have as much time to work on requests and other artwork. Most of the artwork and book reviews I have been putting up is stuff I did a little while ago and was already scanned. Nevertheless, the requests will get done and I'm still able to accept more! Thanks for being patient everyone!

It was fun to do my first legendary Tf, and I do like this Pokémon. It took a little while to work out the Tf method, but then I remembered that Thundurus creates storms so thought let's do something with that. I also looked up suitable names and found that the Arabic name Chiragh means lamp, which I thought would be the perfect irony for this tale.

Want a request? See this journal: fav.me/d7sge24
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Freddy521's avatar
Only a written story can tell a fluent tale is one thing that I say (unless it's Shaun Tan), and this was fluent. I love this. Also I'm jealous because I have never written a decent TF, just slight mutations. Excellent work, though.