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Deviant for 4 Years
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Silence filled the empty home long after the intruders had gone. The window shutters flung open, the door caved in. The table and plates were shattered, the armchairs destroyed, blooming flowers of cotton from their ruptured fabric. From the door and past the living room, the floor was slick with fresh blood. 

Every so often, this horrid vision would play out before Marvin. 

Crying, someone he once loved was struck down and slammed. The children watched on in horror, frozen in place as their young eyes watch on. What else were children to do when their mother couldn't scream for them to run? Her mouth was held shut by a hand made from steel, her teary eyes trying to speak for her. Before their voice could be heard, the floor was already awash with blood. The terrified children stood paralyzed in place, not knowing what to do. Fate decided for them and sent a pair of blades to slit their throats. One and one, and then they stood no more.

She watched on as they fell, laughter came from all around. The iron hand around her mouth grew tighter as her assailant grew more wretched. She was up against the wall now, the force of a strong pair of hands forcing her against it. She knew what was to come next. She didn’t care. Nothing was worth living for now.

When he was done with her, he cast her to the next. Then another, then another, another, and another. Before she could be thrown to the next, she allowed herself to have the last laugh. Casting herself upon the blade of a Scyther, she allowed herself one last look at her fallen children and went to join them in paradise. It wasn’t as painful as she would have thought when the blade entered her abdomen and exited her back. She could hear the intruders moans of despair when their plaything escaped. 

Panting and covered in sweat, Marvin shot up from his bed made from reeds. He gasped and fell back down on his back, relieved that it was over. The visions he had experienced countless times, yet it still managed to hit him like a ton of bricks. He cringed, feeling a jolt of pain rush up from his wounded arm, which he now had in a splint. He turned his head and looked over at the little critter that had caused the ghastly wound.

The Totodile was asleep along with the Charmander, snoozing away on a bed of reeds by the fireplace. The Totodile  had collapsed instantly on the makeshift bed the moment Marvin had presented him before it. Lying by the warmth of the fireplace and comforted by their own bed of reeds, the two young ones seemed completely at peace. Marvin couldn’t get a word out of either of them before they fell asleep.

Rising from his bed and clutching his wounded arm, Marvin could only look upon them with a puzzled expression. These two children, whoever they were, evoked a feeling that simply refused to sit well with him. The well-aged Floatzel had come across many oddities in his long and adventurous life. He had ventured into chasms deep and caves eternal, he had reached the summits of the tallest mountains and braved the fiercest storms, but few things had ever unsettled Marvin this deeply.

The look that Totodile gave  him when it snapped at his arm, it seemed almost feral, like it had no understanding of the world. His emerald green eyes seemed awash with confusion, yet he tried desperately to conceal them behind the snapping of a lethal pair of jaws. Marvin had many questions; ones that he hoped would be answered when the two boys awoke.

Still fatigued from lack of sleep, Marvin waddled over to a nearby pool of water that was at the end of this underground cave he called a home. Marvin’s home was an interesting one, to be sure. A small underground cavern, situated near the bottom of the lake he had found the two children near. At one end of the cavern there was a deep pool of water which was actually part of a flooded cave system that lead out to the depths of the lake itself. His dear and long-time friend, Narda the Lanturn, was able to swim in freely in from the lake and poke her head up from the pool to say hello, or more likely drive Marvin up the wall with her endless banter.

On the other end of the cavern, a rocky set of stone steps lead up to a tunnel. One could use it to climb up to the surface on the land and find themselves close to the shore of the lake. It was rarely ever used. Narda had no use for it, Marvin had little use for it, and it was rare indeed that guests ever came calling.

But the cavern’s most astonishing feature, the feature that Marvin had come to admire and made him take it as his home, were the collations of glowing crystals that were embedded in the rock walls and ceiling of the cavern. Each one shone with the light of a star in the night sky and illuminated the cavern with a glowing splendour of colour.

The thought of even trying to extract one of them to be sold revolted Marvin. He always saw their beauty as being beyond currency. He also enjoyed not having to use flaming torches that would have smoked up the cavern and constantly need replacing and relighting. The smoke from the fireplace, however, always seemed to find ventilation to the surface. Marvin had never explored why that was, his exploration days were long gone. Now, he had but to sit and enjoy the remainder of his life.

Holding his injured arm above the water, Marvin slipped into the pool. The cold early-morning water of the lake bit at him, almost as hard as a certain Totodile. That was only for a split moment, and soon Marvin sighed in relief, feeling the cold water rejuvenate his aging body after a rough night’s sleep.

At that moment, a glowing yellow light began to appear beneath the surface of the pool. It continued to grow progressively brighter until the head of a Lanturn broke the surface of the pool’s waters just before Marvin. He back up a little, bringing his arms up around the edge of the pool to support him from sliding in.

“Morning to ya, Marvin.” Narda chimed, her ever-present smile making his heart warm against the chill of the water. “How’s ya arm doin’?”

The question seemed to irritate him. The pain in his arm reminded him of a time when he was in his prime, young and fit, and wounds like this would be almost healed by the following morning. Now he would be stumbling around like an old fool for a week. “Feck, woman!” he snapped. “It hurts like a son of a-”

“Oh, stop yer complanin’, yer big sook, you!” Narda never did like to hear the complaints of an old fellow. She was younger than him by at least five summers, or was it ten? He couldn’t seem to recall nowadays. But Marvin did know for a fact that he had been old enough to remember when she first hatched.

“Fecks sake, woman!” snapped Marvin. “That Totodile’s a freak, I tell ya. Freak! Ti’ took every ounce of strength in me just to calm him down.”

“Shh! You’ll wake them, ya dammed fool,” Narda hissed.

Both friends looked upon the children in silence.

Narda adjusted her head and used her bulbs to illuminate them better. “They still sleeping, eh’ she observed, “Look at the state of them, Marvin, they must have been traveling far. Tis no wonder why they were perishin’”

“Aye,” Marvin agreed, scratching the back of his head. He continued to observe the children while they slept. They looked so peaceful now, finally at rest. Like any other innocent child.

“How fare’s the Charmander?” Narda asked.

“Lashings better than what he wus doin' oyt dare in dat storm.” He turned to Narda, an anxious look in his eyes. ‘Narda, I tink dare is somethin' wrong wi' dees laddies.’

“How’d ya figure that?”

“What wud two laddies be doin' wanderin' raun in a storm loike dat? No parents, no family. Den they clobber me, de first person they meet.” He lifted his wounded arm before Narda.

Narda seemed just as perplexed as he was, something that she rarely ever was. “I have no idea. Where yer suppose they come from? 'Av yer seen dem raun town?”

“Naw. I ever seen their sort raun anywhere. They’re wearin' armbands de likes av which I 'av never seen.”

Narda nudged forward in her pool, squinting her eyes to get a better look at the Totodile’s band. Her eyes seemed to suddenly widen after a moment. Something must have clicked in that inspiring mind of hers. “Marivin, how far be Prismatic Jungle from ‘ere?”

Marvin took a moment to think. He had occasionally frequented the outskirts of the jungle, and even ventured in slightly. He had never gone in too deep, though. Prismatic Jungle had always had an ominous reputation about it; there were always outlaws, and the mentally deranged that hid within. But in the past decade or so, the jungle had become a place of sheer terror. Nowadays, no one who went in too deep ever came back out, and the ones that did, emerged half mad with fear, screaming stories of monsters in the shadows that tore apart entire exploration teams.

Most of the losses came from his former guild, The Prospectors Guild. It was the only local guild left in these parts of Oat and the old guild master, Carlos the Cinccino, was becoming desperate for some finds in that area. Marvin had always opposed his guild master in every decision that regarded that accursed jungle. As nasty as the thought was, Marvin hoped that Carlos’ age would eventually take him, and that the guild would come under new administration, one that would put its teams to better use and value their lives better.

“It’s ‘bout a full day’s walk, if yer fit enough,’ Marvin finally said to her, answering her question.  “’Ave yer ‘eard somethin’?”

Narda took a moment to ponder upon Marvin’s response. Narda may have only ever been confined to the waters of Oat lake where she had lived her entire life, but that had never stopped her from being the sociable kind. Marvin often wondered if Narda knew everyone there was to know. She was always off talking to couples that strolled by the lake, or convening with her circle of underwater friends to gossip and spread rumour, true or false.

Marvin never looked kindly on the notion of gossip and rumour spreading. But not even he could deny that Narda was a swimming encyclopaedia of knowledge when it came to knowing everything about anyone. The thing he had always found most bewildering was the fact that she was always right about what she knew.

“There’s rumours,” she began, “stories about folk living within the jungle. That there is a group, a small one, which wear strange armbands. Stories say that they are death incarnate, that they have carved out their own territory in the jungle and have slaughtered hundreds who have dared to intrude upon them,”

“Hundreds?” Marvin almost recoiled in shock. Could this have been where the lost teams had vanished to? He had met several of the survivors, not that there were that many to begin with, and he had always heard their maddened rambling of shadows and blaring red eyes. Most of the poor sods never did recover.

Marvin then turned to the two seemingly innocent children that slept on his forfeited bed by the fireplace. Neither of them looked like they could have come from the shadows that terrorised so many, and neither did they have the blaring red eyes that struck fear into the hearts of so many.

For once in his life, Marvin really hoped that Narda was wrong and that these rumours were simply what they were; rumours. Despite his doubts, a fear began to trickle into the back of his mind and he began to wonder what sort of terror he had just brought into his home. To his surprise, the visions of his nightmares came to mind. The last time he had brought terror to a place he once called home, it had cost him everything he held dear in this world.

Part 2 of the "This New Life" series. A sequel to the "That Other Life" series. 
An interlude to Tales of Elysium.   

<Previous | Next >

Following the destruction of their home and the gruesome death of their parents at the hands of a mysterious horror, Vagus the Totodile and his older brother, Mycaelis the Charmander, now find themselves alone, orphaned, and in a world they know nothing of. The two brothers must now confide within each other more than ever as they seek to find a purpose for their unnatural abilities in this new world...and challenge the evil that claimed the lives of their parents.

Sly: A charmander’s tail flame on a dry straw bed; if that logic is good enough for the games, its good enough for this story.

Thumbnail by :iconhaychel:

My greatest desire is to feel loved. 
Despite this, my advances are shoved.
They desire another man, one that they follow,
who has naught but brawn and a mind that rings hollow.

What have I done to be put in this state?
Am I someone who inspires nothing but hate?
Or is it because they think me a bore,
finding no muse in the antics of a whore?

Perhaps my desires are something too much,
these women today seem so out of touch. 
Once creatures of virtue, they are all but dead,
instead now they are creatures of dread.

Forever harping and forever whoring,
not caring for who they are adoring.
Save long as their muscles are strong a ripped,
and their manhood lengthy to be licked and gripped.

Yet here I sit saying they are to blame,
when it is myself at fault for being so lame.
Most would say that I have no game,
tis true, I have none to my name.

For them, I have always tried hard to change,
but I become something so odd and strange.
I become a person I was never meant to be,
a person I dislike, and isn’t me.

They say I will find one who’s alike,
a soul mate in this world so perfect and right.
I’m better off looking for a needle in the ocean
than entertaining this silly notion.

And so I sit here wallowing in sadness,
alone, alone in this world of blackness.
This life for me is what I must endure.
For a romantic failure, there is no cure.

A Romantic Failure
Figured I'd give some poetry a go. Never have written much of the stuff. 

This world was a big place. Bigger than anything that Vagus the Totodile had ever known in his life. The fields seemed to go on forever, and the sky was so plain and vast that Vagus feared he would fall into it if he gazed up at it for too long. Such was a phobia developed when one spent their lifetime under the thick canopy of a jungle. Vagus had never seen the sky so clearly and never knew it was so vast. Then there was the silence, the sort of silence one hears when out in the middle of nowhere with nothing around to create any noise. The jungle was always full of noises, those that were familiar and those that seemed strange. Silence rarely ever came, and whenever it did, it was during the horrifying nights like the one that had claimed the lives of his parents.

Vagus looked around him while he and his brother, Mycaelis, walked the rolling plains. There was no road and the sheer emptiness around them made Vagus feel exposed and anxious. If he had proper claws, he would have dug himself a burrow and stayed there until nightfall. The darkness would conceal him quiet well, provided his Charmander brother with his flaming tail wasn’t lumbering around behind him. In the jungle there was a tree wherever he turned and a brush to hide in wherever he looked. There was also Mum and Dad watching out for him. But here…here there was nothing, not a tree or bush to hide behind.

What was he thinking coming out here? He had no idea where he was going, what he was even doing, or what the hell was even out here. What if they ran into a stranger that met them harm, what if a bird looking for an easy afternoon meal swopped down from above, what if those creatures that killed his parents found them, or what if….

The sky rumbled angrily and gave Vagus a real reason to fear it. What if it rained?

He looked up and saw that the sky was beginning to turn an angry grey. Where the heck did that suddenly come from? On the horizon he began to see flashes of lightning streaking across the sky and felt his heart sink as the wind began to pick up. 

‘Cunts fucked!’ rumbled Mycaelis. The Charmander was obviously displeased by the thought of an oncoming rainstorm. It was one of the few moments today that he had spoken. Although Vagus was put off by the absence of ambient sounds around him, he did find a certain pleasure in Mycaelis’ new found silence.

‘Where did this suddenly roll in from?’ Vagus sighed.

It was a valid question. The storm had seemed to come out of nowhere. But then again, Vagus hadn’t a clue in the world how storms formed or how to tell if one was brewing or not. Vagus had always known and felt what rain was. In the middle of monsoonal downpours, his father routinely forced him to fix gaps in the thatched roof of their hovel whenever there was a leak. The bastard was so big he would have caved in the ceiling had he tried to do it himself.

Vagus was more than aware that his Charmander brother wouldn’t last long in one, especially when one considered the complete absence of shelter around. He continued to plod forward, his eyes focused on the oncoming storm. He expected some form of snarky response from Mycaelis, a complaint, a snarl or a rhetoric question that pointed out the poor likeliness of actually finding shelter, instead he got nothing.

Dusk had fallen by the time the clouds had moved across and unloaded their torrential downpour onto the two siblings. Vagus was soon regretting his previous reflections on how he knew what rain felt like. No longer sheltered by the jungle canopy, the ensuing downpour offered Vagus no quarter, barraging him both he and his sibling as they trudged through the mud and braved through the wind. He covered his mother’s journal as best he could with his arms, hoping to keep as much water off it has possible. He was glad that she had chosen to write in one that had a leather cover.

He had never felt or seen a downpour like this in his life. It hadn’t even been a full day since he left the jungle, and already he was growing sick of this new world. How it had drawn him in with the tantalising beauty in its ocean of stars and sweeping lush plains, and then attempted to drown both him and Mycaelis in a torrential downpour.  

Despite his dreariness, hope did present itself before him. Vagus could make out the sight of trees up ahead. A forest, rather than a jungle, it was situated closely to a nearby lake. He hoped that the tree trunks were thick, maybe they would find one with a hollow in it and would be able to huddle down inside. He didn’t care if it was wishful thinking, he just wanted something that would get them out of this blasted storm.

Vagus turned to Mycaelis and noticed that his brother was lagging behind. He was cringing, scowling and even stumbling at times. All attempts to communicate with him only resulted in an affirmative grunt as a response. Vagus knew that his brother was tough, far tougher than he would ever be, but still Vagus knew all too well that Mycaelis wouldn’t last much longer in this storm. He was already slowing down, and his skin was beginning to rash from its exposure to all the water.

Eventually conceding the fact that he wouldn’t get any responses about his well-being out of Mycaelis, Vagus frequently made subtle attempts to check the flame on his tail.

‘Will ya stop lookin’ at it, for fucks sake?’ Mycaelis suddenly snapped. He had clearly noticed Vagus’ concerned glances at his tail. ‘I’m f-fine. J-just keep b-bloody moving.’

Mycaelis seemed embarrassed, completely shamed, by the fact that something as trivial as water was able to reduce him to the wreck that he was becoming. Vagus, nonetheless, did as he was told.  He kept his eyes ahead, looking back only occasionally to check if Mycaelis had collapsed into an unconscious heap on the muddied ground. They pressed onwards, following the shore of the lake until they eventually reached the woods ahead of them.

Vagus watched on helplessly as Mycaelis collapsed onto a tree for support. For a moment, Vagus thought that he was just bracing himself against the howling wind. That was until he watched Mycaelis collapsed in eerily similar fashion as his father had collapsed before him.

Mycaelis seemed overtaken by fits, his body shook severely. The rash on his skin had become blisters, some of which he had picked at, resulting in them bleeding. To make matters worse, Vagus noticed the place to be woodland rather than a dense forest. The trees were sparse and widely separate from one another. He had hoped for a canopy, something like home to keep most of the rain off, but his hopes were dashed. As for that hollow in a tree trunk, there was no way he would be moving Mycaelis any further to try and find one that would comfortably fit him.  

Vagus had not come far enough to let Mycaelis die. It was only the previous night that his father, who always doubted him and scorned him, had left Mycaelis in Vagus’ care. He was not about to stuff it up only a single day in. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said to Mycaelis.

Vagus scouted ahead a short distance and soon spotted a nearby tree. It only had a shallow hollow in it and was far from what he hoped for, but it would at least allow Mycaelis some refuge from the rain, provided he covered it in a few branches. He set down his mother’s journal, feeling as anxious as she did about leaving it unattended. He then made his way back to Mycaelis.

‘C’mon!’ he snapped at his brother. Vagus could tell he was growing weaker.

‘L-leave me,’ Mycaelis grumbled sombrely. His head drooped low. He seemed so driven to shame by his exposed weakness, that he couldn’t even look Vagus in the eye. ‘I don’t deserve to-’

‘The only thing you deserve at the moment is a kick up the bum for being a sook!’ snapped Vagus. He suddenly found an ounce of his mother’s ferocity burning within his heart, or was it his brother’s? He had to get Mycaelis moving, no matter what. Get him to shelter. Mycaelis could mope all he wanted once he was there.

As Vagus spoke, he found himself beginning to sound more and more like Mycaelis, or at least the Mycaelis he used to know. ‘Now come on, on your feet, Laconian! For fucks sake, imagine what Dad would say if he saw ya in a state like this?’

He gripped Mycaelis by his under arms and pulled him to his feet. He took one of the Charmander’s arms over his shoulder and supported him as he walked. With the wind and rain lashing at his body, Vagus helped his mud covered brother to the tree he had found, and slid him into the shallow hollow. He then pulled down the thickest branches he could reach, which weren’t very thick, and tried his best to cover Mycaelis with them.

His actions, although commendable, looked outright ridiculous and clumsy. The wind would take hold of a branch and send it flying into the woods. Occasionally Vagus was able to catch them, mostly they would fly off so far he dared not pursue them for fear of becoming lost and separated from Mycaelis.

Mycaelis’ trembles continued to only grow worse.

‘Stay with me, Mycaelis,’ Vagus pleaded, trying desperately to keep the branches from flying off.

‘Hey, over ‘dare!’ a call came from behind him. ‘What are ye at over ‘dare?’

Vagus quickly and suddenly turned, completely startled and terrified. He looked upon the surface of the lake. Not far from the shore, a head had popped up from underneath the surface of the lake’s unusually calm waters. A pair of brilliantly glowing bulbs hung from it, illuminating the dreary evening. It was a Lanturn. One with a smile so wide, and friendly, that it seemed oddly out of place considering the ferocity of the storm. The again, Vagus would imagine that a fish, living underwater its entire life, would place howling storms amongst the least of its concerns.

Vagus said nothing. He didn’t know what to say. Mycaelis was the one that would always speak, not him. He simply stared, a look of utter completely hopelessness was all he could convey. That’s all he felt.

The Lanturn’s eyes looked him over, they felt warm and welcoming. Maybe that was simply because the rain and wind felt so cold and hostile in contrast? The Lanturn then looked past Vagus and noticed Mycaelis poorly covered by branches and desperately shoved into a shallow hollow.

‘Well, I’ll be darned,’ the smile seemingly faded from her expression. She then averted her gaze away from Vagus and called out. ‘Marvin! Over here, now, quick!’

Vagus heard a rustle of bushes, followed by a rush of footsteps and the clanging of metal against wood. A Floatzel, with a bucket half full of Oran berries at his side, soon stood before Vagus. He was larger than Vagus and stood over him. He was a well-aged Floatzel with a seemingly noble appearance. He sported a body that seemed to have endured many storms such as this and eyes that once saw many adventures.

‘What’s all this?’ he cast his eyes over Vagus, and then Mycaelis.

Vagus’ heart was racing. He didn’t know who these people were. Were they one of those that hunted his parents that night? One of those who hid in the shadows and cackled as his father fell before them? Was he one of those that chased them both from their home?

‘They’re perishin’, Marvin,’ called out the Lanturn. ‘Git dem home, nigh! That Charmander don’t look like he’s ‘bout to last much longer.’

‘Damn, woman!’ snarled the Floatzel. ‘How de feck am I supposed ter take a Charmander underwater?’

‘Use the land entrance, ya dammed fool!’ she snapped back. ‘Have those berries yer been foraging driven yer bloody senile?’

They were going to take him somewhere. Take Mycaelis somewhere. He didn’t know where they were going or what they meant by a “land entrance” and quite frankly, Vagus didn’t want to know. As far as he knew, nothing was going to lay a hand on him or Mycaelis. He promised his father that, he promised he’d keep him safe. He watched on as the Lanturn disappeared beneath the surface, leaving him alone with the Floatzel.

‘Right now, lad. Let’s be getting you and your pal oyt av 'ere.’

He sidestepped Vagus and made an unfortunate attempt to try and pick up Mycaelis. Vagus bounded into action, snapping at the Floatzel’s arm with his jaws. He screamed and flailed back in pain.

‘What de feck?’ he clenched his bitten arm. ‘Easy der, lad!’

It was a Totodile’s bite, a very serious bite. Let’s not forget, Totodile’s are essentially huge jawed gobs with arms and legs attached to them. Marvin’s wound was highly evident, even as the rain washed away the blood. Still the elderly Floatzel stood calm, steadily holding the wound to stem the bleeding. He didn’t seem angry in the slightest. Any creature Vagus knew would have returned the bite in kind, and outright attacked him at this moment. Yet here he was, simply standing face to face with a foe he had just wounded.

‘Listen ‘ere, lil fella. I don't nu who yer are, or what you're doin' 'ere. But I do nu if yer don’t git yer pal sum place warm, ‘es as gud ‘a dead oyt ‘ere.’

Marvin slowly moved closer, one small step at a time. Vagus, like a cornered animal slowly, and cautiously, retreated, snapping his jaws at Marvin in a vain attempt to keep him at bay. His calmness must be some sort of trick, something to get him to lower his guard.  Vagus wasn’t about to fall for it.

‘Not gonna ‘arm yer, lad.’

Vagus took another snap at his arm, but the Floatzel was quick this time. His arm shot away from Vagus’ attack and grabbed the Totodile. Vagus kicked and squirmed and tried his hardest to bite at something fleshy, but found that his jaws could snap at nothing but air.

‘Goodness! Settle down, yer upstart!’

Vagus began to grow weaker. The past day had completely exhausted him. It had been a long journey, and he had not eaten or slept in so long. Marvin was still surprisingly strong for his age, his arms were shockingly powerful. Vagus had begun to wonder just how weak he had become, or if Marvin really was that strong, after all.

After a while of struggling in the Floatzel’s grip, Vagus’ body eventually grew tired and fell limp after some more gentle coercion from Marvin. The Floatzel never once struck him or a lay a violent hand on him. He simply held Vagus, letting him wear himself out. ‘That’s a good lil fella. Easy.’

To Vagus’ surprise, he let him go and went to gather the unconscious Mycaelis in his arms. He turned to Vagus. ‘Come wi’ me, lad. Come!’

Vagus gathered his mother’s journal from the muddy ground and proceeded to follow the Floatzel that now had his brother. He eyed the tip of Mycaelis’ tail that hug limp from Marvin’s arms. To Vagus’ horror, he noticed that the flame at the end was blazing no brighter than a simple birthday candle. 

Part 1 of the "This New Life" series. A sequel to the "That Other Life" series. 
An interlude to Tales of Elysium.   


Following the destruction of their home and the gruesome death of their parents at the hands of a mysterious horror, Vagus the Totodile and his older brother, Mycaelis the Charmander, now find themselves alone, orphaned, and in a world they know nothing of. The two brothers must now confide within each other more than ever as they seek to find a purpose for their unnatural abilities in this new world...and challenge the evil that claimed the lives of their parents.

Thumbnail by :iconhaychel:

PMDe Birthday Collabortation

Journal Entry: Sun Feb 10, 2013, 2:50 AM

Hey, all. Please go to :iconhaychel:'s journal to see my announcement of our collaboration project with all you fine PMDe peeps.
Take a look at the info and do your best to contribute. Good luck!



Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
Also known as SlyGrovyle.

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Add a Comment:
Krika1119 Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2015
Hey Sly, Haychel told me to come to you for information on the Laconians, also I wanted to ask if I can use the characters in your story in my PMD Stories on The events that take place during my stories will be in between the sort of transitions in your story. Also I was wondering on how you can tell if a Pokémon is a Laconian or not. For me I think it's the eyes since Vagus and Kareena have different eye colors from their species. If I'm wrong, you can correct me. Plus, what are the things that are hunting the Laconians? They definitely seem bloodthirsty.
Witolman Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2015
Your "tales of elysium" story is horrible. I was really positive when I first tried to read it.... WAY too predictable in the least fun to read way. Slydragoon16, you really failed with this. It's as if you tried way too hard to make something EPIC and BIG and COOL and you made something on kindergarten level. Fun parts weren't fun, plot twists weren't really twists beacuse how predictable it all was and epic/cool parts were simply childish in the dumb way. Only reason I read this comic is beacuse of the art. I don't wan't to insult you, but that story is horrible, not worst, but still very bad.

I don't wan't to insult you so how about not blocking me?
Haychel Featured By Owner Edited Jun 28, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I understand that everyone has their own opinion and I respect that.

Though, it is rather insulting to just say that a piece of art is downright a failure, don't you think? Not to mention, we're only like 30% through the first volume, possibly out of like 4-5 volumes? How can people already tell that it is predictable? 
Witolman Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2015
Because after seeing one page I know what will happen in the next one, thanks to one dimensional characters. (which is another flaw for me)
Also if 30% of first volume makes me think that way, doesn't it mean that it's a bad start? Who would want to read it after that? I'll try to continue reading it, to see if there's anything interesting later, but I don't think so.

(english is not my native language)
Haychel Featured By Owner Edited Jun 29, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
You probably should read more comics and manga, then. 

If a page doesn't relate to what happened to the previous page at all, that is called broken linkage. Should the story make sense and flow well, the next page should suggest so accordingly. Then again, if you're looking for surprise for every single page or pure shock value, I don't think our comic is for you.

I'm not sure what your definition of "bad start" is either. As I've said, this is like 30% of the first volume of possibly 5, which is like 6% of the whole series. ANY comic at this stage is backstory or laying out characters. If you think that you've seen the end of all the characters, you're more than wrong and extremely shortsighted.

Our dedicated audience might also beg to differ from your extra harsh opinions, as most of them are enjoying what we can offer. Not to mention, this is a free webcomic that we decide to share with all of you, made in our spare time.

Overall, I simply think you might just be looking for the wrong things from our comic. I at least thank you, to have read most of it so far.
(1 Reply)
Zaninja21 Featured By Owner May 23, 2015  New Deviant Hobbyist General Artist
The stories you write are wonderful, and beautifully written. I myself am attempting to create a story. Emphasis on attempting  Sweating a little... . Got any tips for a newbie writer?
slydragoon16 Featured By Owner May 23, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Simple, really. Just go ahead and write stuff. Doesn't have to be a story or even a final product, just write something that gets into your head and see where it goes. Make notes, scrappy notes not the sort you'd want to upload as a story, but as a guide for you. Writing naturally begets (produces more of) writing, so just write and write random stuff in your notes until you have a good idea for a story. Then you can work it all into a draft and keep refining it. You'll find that 90% of writing is actually rewriting, so always reflect and re-read what you write. 

That's just stuff I've learned over the years. Maybe it'll help you out, too. 
Zaninja21 Featured By Owner May 23, 2015  New Deviant Hobbyist General Artist
Ok, thanks for the advice!
ZiraDakota Featured By Owner May 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I hope you don't mind me flooding you with favorites. I love your writing.
slydragoon16 Featured By Owner May 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Ah, so you're the culprit. XD I dont mind at all. Enjoy. :)
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