Project Fear

8 years after the Madman's demise...

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February 13, 2017 6:57pm
[[This thread is officially approved for revival! Please note that roleplays which are inactive for over two months will now be locked.]]
You do seem to know what is needed. Yes, what a Trainer needs is a virtuous heart. Pokémon touch the good hearts of Trainers and learn good from wrong. They touch the good hearts of Trainers and grow strong... Go onwards! The Champion is waiting!
- Drake of the Hoenn Elite Four

February 14, 2017 11:00pm
((it... it's been YEARS... LET THERE BE LIFE...))

Consciousness isn't always a clear line. Who's to say whether the taste of blood in your mouth is real, or just part of some horrific dream? Damien's heartbeat echoed painfully in his skull, over, and over, and over. Badump. Badump.

Movement. Bruises hitting the ground, sending new aches through his tiny body. His father? No, of course not. How could he be so stupid...? Badump.

Rocks spilled out over him, burying him alive. They should have crushed him, but they just kept falling, and falling, and the light above him got further and further away. He couldn't push the rocks away, he was too small, too small. Badump.


Damien was thrown very roughly onto the ground. The world slowly swam into his vision, a blur of colors and light. Every inch of him screamed with pain. He closed his eyes again; perhaps he would have more time to find his bearings if he pretended that he was still unconscious.

A sharp kick to the side. No such luck. "Good morning, little hero!" A grating voice was in his face, close enough for Damien to feel the heat of the other Pokemon's breath. He forced his eyes open, finally allowing his vision to adjust. A Nidoking was bending down to his level, absolutely colossal above him. It was a FEAR; its red eyes and the feeling of absolute dread they instilled as he looked at them made that abundantly clear. So much for hoping this was a nightmare.

"So glad that you and all of your friends could join us here today," the Nidoking guffawed, standing up to his full height. "You'll now be living out the rest of your days in this camp, working for the glory of FEAR everywhere. You should feel honored that you'll finally be able to contribute to something meaningful now, instead of running around and trying to meddle in the plans of Pokemon greater than you."

Damien wanted to speak out, say something heroic, defiant. He wanted to show some amazing burst of power and take down this beast, freeing himself and his friends. He couldn't even try, though; his muscles were frozen, his body unwilling to make even the slightest resistance.

A Grovyle FEAR approached him from behind, clamping an iron shackle to his right leg. It continued on to the others, chaining them similarly. The Nidoking went on with his speech. "You belong to us now. Your new IDs are on your cuffs. You'll be escorted to your sleeping quarters, and tomorrow you'll be expected to begin hard labor. Have a nice rest!"

Apparently this was all the introduction they would be getting, as the Grovyle led them off towards a series of buildings. Pokemon were chained and performing all kinds of menial labor in the surrounding area, looking defeated and tired as they went. Damien turned his head away from them, not willing to think about the fact that he would be joining them soon. They reached the sleeping quarters, and the Grovyle shooed them all inside. "Don't leave this building without one of us coming to get you. If you even so much as think about escaping, we'll know." Somehow, Damien believed it.

The 'sleeping quarters' were no more than a series of wooden slats on the walls, providing the most cramped bunks imaginable. Of course, what else would he expect? His mind numbed, Damien flopped his tired body onto one of the bunks, letting his flame go out. Everything hurt. "Kenna," he muttered weakly, staring blankly into space. "Oh god... Kenna, where are you?"
February 18, 2017 12:08pm
Leaf's body was still raw with burns when he woke. The Bayleef barely noticed the FEARs speaking; none of their words seemed to reach him. Dazed, he glanced around for his dear friend, for that tiny Shaymin. Cyan? Are you okay? Please, be okay...

As the Grovyle locked them inside the sleeping quarters, Theron climbed onto a bunk and stared at the low ceiling, fuming. He didn't want to cry. So why was he crying? All his life, he could never do things right. Why didn't his parents raise him? Why did he lose his tail? Why was he always, always so weak...?

Lute, his wise master. Lute, who trained him to be the best he could be. Lute, who ever once praised him. Until now. And he'd yearned for such praise for so long, that even knowing it was a trap, he let down his guard. And now, he'd lost Sparktail's sword on top of that. Theron hated himself so much now. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to be killed by something.

He heard mumbling from the wood-slat below him. Damien, sniffling over his sister, it sounded like. Jealousy and bitterness surged inside Theron. "Oh, shut it," muttered the Pikachu, more harshly than he intended.

((This is fun!))
You do seem to know what is needed. Yes, what a Trainer needs is a virtuous heart. Pokémon touch the good hearts of Trainers and learn good from wrong. They touch the good hearts of Trainers and grow strong... Go onwards! The Champion is waiting!
- Drake of the Hoenn Elite Four

July 19, 2017 8:00pm
Where… Where was everyone?

The room seemed to spin as the Shaymin got up. She pressed her paws against her head as if pressure would quickly correct her head. To her surprise her right paw became damp. Thanks to her soft glowing fur she could see her paw was stained red. What had hit her head?

She closed her eyes trying to dig through her memories. All she could remember were boulders… And her mother? No, that couldn’t be right. Her mother was being held captive by the FEARS. They were probably torturing her, starving her, slowly ripping her to shreds as she laid her.

Those dark ‘what-ifs’ began to overwhelm the small child. She began to wail into her paws. Her cry bounced off the walls of her cell and into the main hall. Her throat began to get dry and ache. Her crying eased as she began to tire, sniffling she rubbed her eyes. “I miss momma…”

She looked at the bars that kept her sealed away in this small prison cell. Was this where they kept Mom? Was she the next one to be tortured?


“It doesn’t seem like we’re all here,” Crimson said as he looked around the large room or sleeping quarters as the Grovyle put it. He should have seen someone like Cyan easily, thanks to her glow-in-the-dark fur. “They must have split us up to weaken us.” He also couldn’t make out Damien’s sister, Kenna.

He lifted his paw, analyzing the chain that kept him from walking too far. It was covered in rust, it could easily cut into his flesh. Looking even more closely, he could tell they were used thanks to the dry bits of blood around the cuff. Perhaps this was the place they use to hold his mother and father?

His ear twitched as he heard a loud cry. He turned around, spotting a high air vent. It carried the cries and voices begging for help. The Eevee gulped, surely some of his comrades were being tortured there. Their voices tore through him, stabbing his heart. He could feel their pain and misery. He longed to help them, but this chain and the sheer height of the vent made him feel powerless.

He squinted at his chains, wondering if he could even use his powers. Surely, if the Mad Man knew how to rewrite Pokemon DNA he would have had notes laying around about how to disable their natural powers. The albino tried to concentrate on using iron tail on the chains, but he couldn’t muster the strength. It could be because he was half-starved, tired, or they disabled their powers or all the above.

“Can any of you guys use your moves?” He asked the small group.


You should be dead, the voice whispered. But fate just loves its precious fox, doesn’t it?

Kenna’s eyes fluttered open, her stomach churned at the stench that filled her small cell. Her heart leaped out of her chest as she turned her head to the right. In front of her was a rotten corpse of an Arcanine. It’s muzzle frozen in a snarl. She could see little white creatures wiggling in the Pokemon’s glassy eyeballs. The canine's stomach was sliced open, guts and organs spilled out onto the concrete floor.

The fox ran to the opposite side of the cell, heaving out what little her stomach had.

“Damien, where are you?” Kenna cried, coughing as the acid from her stomach lingered in her throat. What did she do to deserve this? She just wanted her mom and dad back.
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