Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Wild Horses & Pokegirls - sidestories ❯ Sukebe ( Chapter 1 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Metroanime 
the origins of the pokegirl world and why things are so screwed up.
Anime/Manga: Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Post-apocalyptic / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.02.2002 | Updated On: 10.02.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 6.7K | Status: Completed
the origins of the pokegirl world and why things are so screwed up.
Anime/Manga: Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Hentai / Post-apocalyptic / Supernatural | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.02.2002 | Updated On: 10.02.2002 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 6.7K | Status: Completed
Sukebe, a pokegirls story
NOTE: This is an interpretation of the character Sukebe from the pokegirls universe, which is an altered and more detailed version of the pokewomon story over at the Addventure. The pokegirls universe is told in "Wild Horses & Pokegirls" which can be found at:
http://www.greyarchive.com/
Interp and tale spun by metroanime@mindspring.com
There are those who call me a monster. They say that I am evil or mad or both. Perhaps they are right.
I did not start out a monster, however. If anything it is those very forces which allied themselves against me which have forced that role upon me. As to evil or mad, I do not think either applies, though I could be wrong.
I was once named Jim, long before the name of Sukebe was applied to me. I was a Physics student who made decent grades, though not outstanding. In my second year at the university, I thought I had come up with a unique idea, and a way of testing it.
The technology was something I called Gating, though others I met on my journeys have called it "sliding" or "booming" or "worldwalking." To each their own, I suppose.
The device worked, and a way to step from one universe to another lay within my grasp. At this point I was full of altruism and idealism. I could benefit humanity in a thousand thousand ways with this new technology.
While I wanted to control and oversee the dispensing of this new technology it was mainly because of the historical lessons involved. Look at what happened to poor Nobel, whose invention of dynamite was then put to all sorts of horrible uses.
What I did was to use my own invention to go to universes that had developed differently, bring back odd gleanings and then "reverse engineer" them.
The first thing that I "invented" was simply a more potent battery that utilized an odd chemical mix. That got my foot in the door, so to speak, and established a fair amount of money from the company that then took it and made it their own. A new type of computer memory storage, a slight improvement over the DVD-ROM, was next.
People rarely remember the first thirty "inventions" that I developed. More durable paint, a different take on an automatic transmission that didn't require fluid, a different formula for rubber that was less prone to seperation, and many other things that people were taking for granted less than a year after they were initially released.
I bought a mountainside lab and mansion complex, far from prying eyes. Or so I thought. It was mainly industrial spies that I sought to distance myself from. No, in my own mind at least I was the benefactor of mankind. Soon I would be able to unveil "new" methods of growing crops and developing resources, working on a number of developments that I hoped to use to usher in a new Golden Age - one where hunger was banished and the most basic needs of life were met for all.
Why should I fear the common people when I was struggling for their sake? No, I feared corporate greed and envy, the machinations of the elite and powerful who would seek my developments and take them for their own.
Young and ignorant is a phase we all toil through.
The evil corporations were actually so busy trying to curry favor with me that they kept their spies far from my labs. It was from the "Fourth Estate" that my problems first developed.
The reporter's name was "Linda McKenzie" and her name should be cursed equally with my own if those idiots cared about being fair.
To maintain my mansion and estate, as well as assist me in many tasks, I had brought in genetic engineering devices from a distant universe where such things weren't common but known. I had built seven lovely young ladies, each an exotic vision, to serve in a number of purposes. Even after the intervening years I miss these, my first generation, quite keenly.
The reporter came, apparently feeling that I had no right to keep my secrets to myself. She broke into my estate with all the skills of a professional thief, and apparently quite convinced of the righteousness of her cause.
In other words, a zealot. Her faith - the lack of faith, her agenda - the tearing down of anyone who had accomplished more than she could, her mission - to expose whatever secrets I might have to further her own career. And if innocents should suffer, she was convinced of her own power and rightness.
She broke into my labs, found the genetubes and other gadgetry, and found Melinda. Melinda, my first Animorph. A human woman with qualities of a cute little dog, a terrier to be exact.
Melinda was cleaning up, typically fastidious when she ran across Linda and wasn't sure what to make of her. The reporter knew exactly what to make of Melinda, however. A monster. My genetically engineered girls? Sexslaves.
Which is a terribly limiting label. Melinda had a number of domestic skills and if she had any violent instincts they were well hidden. Tamlin, Diora, Natasha, Rii, Kiena, Morrim: all had skills and personalities that made them individuals and useful. They enjoyed sex, yes, but they were hardly mere sexslaves.
What a pity that Ms McKenzie did not run into Tamlin. Instead she ran into the gentlest and most helpful of my girls.
Unfortunately when that reporter got back to her paper with her pictures and her story, the trial was held within the press and the verdict was foregone.
I had returned from my latest dimensional travel to find that I had already been tried and found guilty of "crimes against humanity". Illegal experimentation on humans, mistreatment of animals, conspiracy to overthrow the government, misogyny and other even more ludicrous charges.
Still, I had faith in my innocence. For I was innocent of all the charges that had been used against me. That Women's Rights groups were almost frothing at the mouth for my "trial" and execution, holding me up as an example of all that is wrong with maleness, was a complete surprise to me. No women had been hurt or enslaved, so why should they be so hostile?
My genetic tanks, my experiments, my girls. All destroyed within the first few minutes of the so-called siege.
Melinda threw me through the dimensional gate. I didn't want to leave them. I ended up doing so as the gate closed behind me.
It was when I returned that I went a bit mad. Yes, mad is a label I can agree with.
When I returned it was six months later to find that Linda McKenzie had become a hero. Celebrated. Book deals. Talk shows. Famous. I had become a vicious monster in the eyes of the press. Those genetanks and other things had become a toxic waste dump, apparent evidence of the "unholy forces" that I had unleashed. The popular press had indulged its whims in fractured prose and empty rhetoric. It sold papers, I suppose. With CG Animation marking the latest evidence of the "Frankenstein Scientist".
My work, my attempts to build a better future for mankind, lay dead. The murderess who called this war against my poor girls and my dreams was now a hero, and expounding her own agenda. There was talk of her running for political office.
Do you see why I became obsessed with revenge?
I returned and visited yet other worlds and continued to combine and re-engineer them. When at last I returned again to the world of my origin, the hated woman had just been elected to the Senate.
Under an assumed name I built my new lab, my new life. Five years after my dreams had died I brought nightmare to those who had hounded me.
The toxic dump became known as Jusenkyo. Viral spores of my own creation permeated the ground and would transform those bathing in its waters to another form. Female and animorphic, in memory of Melinda. Nobody noticed immediately. I gave them far more pressing matters to worry about.
Using transporter and storage devices from yet another world, genetic engineering from a third, elemental magic and esper devices from a fourth, and computers of a fifth world, I had built soldiers. Soldiers that had superhuman abilities, whether they possessed superhuman strength or elemental powers or poison or something else.
These were the first pokegirls. I had built two dozen of them originally. Parthenogenetic - they would breed litters identical to their mother. Humanoid, in many cases anthropomorphic animals. Female, each and every one, and comely. Even in my thirst for vengeance, I remained artistically inclined.
There was more to them than simple soldiers, of course. My plans were far reaching and not all were obvious.
There was a war, of course. The humans were ill prepared for this enemy, however. What use were tanks and jets against what they could not hit? Their most powerful weapons were of little use for the enemy was among them by the time those weapons could be deployed. Small arms fire *could* pick off the occasional pokegirl, those without armor or who were in a position where their speed couldn't avail them. Still, the pokegirls were spreading, I was continuing to develop new ones, and some were going wild where they would eventually nest and continue to be a problem for generations to come.
Add to this a plague which only slew thousands, but sickened millions and had a less obvious effect as well.
Then more battles as my pokegirls continued to spread from nation to nation.
Finally, what I had been waiting for occurred. I had thought perhaps that I would be too successful and might end up actually conquering my home nation at the very least. But no, someone finally befriended one of my pokegirls and succeeded in turning her. A "Growlie" to be exact, a dog-type not dissimilar from Melinda, though with an affinity for fire.
From that, others went and likewise were able to turn now-wild pokegirls to their side. And experienced unconditional love as well as being the Master of someone with superhuman abilities. The technology of their existence was "leaked" out, including the containment orbs and transporters.
As far as anyone in the press or historical tomes is concerned, that was when I was finally caught and killed.
We know better of course.
My longrange plan was to destroy the very governments, institutions, and people who had so maligned me. The religious right and the liberal left had likewise fallen. The pokegirls, and the technology used to control and maintain them, were now sufficiently worldwide that there would be no going back.
With a large number of human women now sterile from the plague, the discovery that pokegirls could bear human children as well as other pokegirls was inevitable.
Of course, that wasn't so simple. Human children born of pokegirls often have a Blood Gift, bearing some special quality that gives them an edge over normal human children. Also, some human girls will go through Threshold and become pokegirls themselves during puberty.
As for me, Sukebe, I sit back and watch, coming out of cryostasis every hundred years to check the progress of my plans. Scratching the ear of the pet I acquired in the early days of the war, a nice animorph canine who was modeled after my lost Melinda, using Jusenkyo's touch.
Isn't that right? Good girl. What a pity that you can't appreciate the irony, eh Linda?
NOTE: This is an interpretation of the character Sukebe from the pokegirls universe, which is an altered and more detailed version of the pokewomon story over at the Addventure. The pokegirls universe is told in "Wild Horses & Pokegirls" which can be found at:
http://www.greyarchive.com/
Interp and tale spun by metroanime@mindspring.com
There are those who call me a monster. They say that I am evil or mad or both. Perhaps they are right.
I did not start out a monster, however. If anything it is those very forces which allied themselves against me which have forced that role upon me. As to evil or mad, I do not think either applies, though I could be wrong.
I was once named Jim, long before the name of Sukebe was applied to me. I was a Physics student who made decent grades, though not outstanding. In my second year at the university, I thought I had come up with a unique idea, and a way of testing it.
The technology was something I called Gating, though others I met on my journeys have called it "sliding" or "booming" or "worldwalking." To each their own, I suppose.
The device worked, and a way to step from one universe to another lay within my grasp. At this point I was full of altruism and idealism. I could benefit humanity in a thousand thousand ways with this new technology.
While I wanted to control and oversee the dispensing of this new technology it was mainly because of the historical lessons involved. Look at what happened to poor Nobel, whose invention of dynamite was then put to all sorts of horrible uses.
What I did was to use my own invention to go to universes that had developed differently, bring back odd gleanings and then "reverse engineer" them.
The first thing that I "invented" was simply a more potent battery that utilized an odd chemical mix. That got my foot in the door, so to speak, and established a fair amount of money from the company that then took it and made it their own. A new type of computer memory storage, a slight improvement over the DVD-ROM, was next.
People rarely remember the first thirty "inventions" that I developed. More durable paint, a different take on an automatic transmission that didn't require fluid, a different formula for rubber that was less prone to seperation, and many other things that people were taking for granted less than a year after they were initially released.
I bought a mountainside lab and mansion complex, far from prying eyes. Or so I thought. It was mainly industrial spies that I sought to distance myself from. No, in my own mind at least I was the benefactor of mankind. Soon I would be able to unveil "new" methods of growing crops and developing resources, working on a number of developments that I hoped to use to usher in a new Golden Age - one where hunger was banished and the most basic needs of life were met for all.
Why should I fear the common people when I was struggling for their sake? No, I feared corporate greed and envy, the machinations of the elite and powerful who would seek my developments and take them for their own.
Young and ignorant is a phase we all toil through.
The evil corporations were actually so busy trying to curry favor with me that they kept their spies far from my labs. It was from the "Fourth Estate" that my problems first developed.
The reporter's name was "Linda McKenzie" and her name should be cursed equally with my own if those idiots cared about being fair.
To maintain my mansion and estate, as well as assist me in many tasks, I had brought in genetic engineering devices from a distant universe where such things weren't common but known. I had built seven lovely young ladies, each an exotic vision, to serve in a number of purposes. Even after the intervening years I miss these, my first generation, quite keenly.
The reporter came, apparently feeling that I had no right to keep my secrets to myself. She broke into my estate with all the skills of a professional thief, and apparently quite convinced of the righteousness of her cause.
In other words, a zealot. Her faith - the lack of faith, her agenda - the tearing down of anyone who had accomplished more than she could, her mission - to expose whatever secrets I might have to further her own career. And if innocents should suffer, she was convinced of her own power and rightness.
She broke into my labs, found the genetubes and other gadgetry, and found Melinda. Melinda, my first Animorph. A human woman with qualities of a cute little dog, a terrier to be exact.
Melinda was cleaning up, typically fastidious when she ran across Linda and wasn't sure what to make of her. The reporter knew exactly what to make of Melinda, however. A monster. My genetically engineered girls? Sexslaves.
Which is a terribly limiting label. Melinda had a number of domestic skills and if she had any violent instincts they were well hidden. Tamlin, Diora, Natasha, Rii, Kiena, Morrim: all had skills and personalities that made them individuals and useful. They enjoyed sex, yes, but they were hardly mere sexslaves.
What a pity that Ms McKenzie did not run into Tamlin. Instead she ran into the gentlest and most helpful of my girls.
Unfortunately when that reporter got back to her paper with her pictures and her story, the trial was held within the press and the verdict was foregone.
I had returned from my latest dimensional travel to find that I had already been tried and found guilty of "crimes against humanity". Illegal experimentation on humans, mistreatment of animals, conspiracy to overthrow the government, misogyny and other even more ludicrous charges.
Still, I had faith in my innocence. For I was innocent of all the charges that had been used against me. That Women's Rights groups were almost frothing at the mouth for my "trial" and execution, holding me up as an example of all that is wrong with maleness, was a complete surprise to me. No women had been hurt or enslaved, so why should they be so hostile?
My genetic tanks, my experiments, my girls. All destroyed within the first few minutes of the so-called siege.
Melinda threw me through the dimensional gate. I didn't want to leave them. I ended up doing so as the gate closed behind me.
It was when I returned that I went a bit mad. Yes, mad is a label I can agree with.
When I returned it was six months later to find that Linda McKenzie had become a hero. Celebrated. Book deals. Talk shows. Famous. I had become a vicious monster in the eyes of the press. Those genetanks and other things had become a toxic waste dump, apparent evidence of the "unholy forces" that I had unleashed. The popular press had indulged its whims in fractured prose and empty rhetoric. It sold papers, I suppose. With CG Animation marking the latest evidence of the "Frankenstein Scientist".
My work, my attempts to build a better future for mankind, lay dead. The murderess who called this war against my poor girls and my dreams was now a hero, and expounding her own agenda. There was talk of her running for political office.
Do you see why I became obsessed with revenge?
I returned and visited yet other worlds and continued to combine and re-engineer them. When at last I returned again to the world of my origin, the hated woman had just been elected to the Senate.
Under an assumed name I built my new lab, my new life. Five years after my dreams had died I brought nightmare to those who had hounded me.
The toxic dump became known as Jusenkyo. Viral spores of my own creation permeated the ground and would transform those bathing in its waters to another form. Female and animorphic, in memory of Melinda. Nobody noticed immediately. I gave them far more pressing matters to worry about.
Using transporter and storage devices from yet another world, genetic engineering from a third, elemental magic and esper devices from a fourth, and computers of a fifth world, I had built soldiers. Soldiers that had superhuman abilities, whether they possessed superhuman strength or elemental powers or poison or something else.
These were the first pokegirls. I had built two dozen of them originally. Parthenogenetic - they would breed litters identical to their mother. Humanoid, in many cases anthropomorphic animals. Female, each and every one, and comely. Even in my thirst for vengeance, I remained artistically inclined.
There was more to them than simple soldiers, of course. My plans were far reaching and not all were obvious.
There was a war, of course. The humans were ill prepared for this enemy, however. What use were tanks and jets against what they could not hit? Their most powerful weapons were of little use for the enemy was among them by the time those weapons could be deployed. Small arms fire *could* pick off the occasional pokegirl, those without armor or who were in a position where their speed couldn't avail them. Still, the pokegirls were spreading, I was continuing to develop new ones, and some were going wild where they would eventually nest and continue to be a problem for generations to come.
Add to this a plague which only slew thousands, but sickened millions and had a less obvious effect as well.
Then more battles as my pokegirls continued to spread from nation to nation.
Finally, what I had been waiting for occurred. I had thought perhaps that I would be too successful and might end up actually conquering my home nation at the very least. But no, someone finally befriended one of my pokegirls and succeeded in turning her. A "Growlie" to be exact, a dog-type not dissimilar from Melinda, though with an affinity for fire.
From that, others went and likewise were able to turn now-wild pokegirls to their side. And experienced unconditional love as well as being the Master of someone with superhuman abilities. The technology of their existence was "leaked" out, including the containment orbs and transporters.
As far as anyone in the press or historical tomes is concerned, that was when I was finally caught and killed.
We know better of course.
My longrange plan was to destroy the very governments, institutions, and people who had so maligned me. The religious right and the liberal left had likewise fallen. The pokegirls, and the technology used to control and maintain them, were now sufficiently worldwide that there would be no going back.
With a large number of human women now sterile from the plague, the discovery that pokegirls could bear human children as well as other pokegirls was inevitable.
Of course, that wasn't so simple. Human children born of pokegirls often have a Blood Gift, bearing some special quality that gives them an edge over normal human children. Also, some human girls will go through Threshold and become pokegirls themselves during puberty.
As for me, Sukebe, I sit back and watch, coming out of cryostasis every hundred years to check the progress of my plans. Scratching the ear of the pet I acquired in the early days of the war, a nice animorph canine who was modeled after my lost Melinda, using Jusenkyo's touch.
Isn't that right? Good girl. What a pity that you can't appreciate the irony, eh Linda?