OniMyutsuu 
Clone of Mewtwo
Posts: 494
(4/18/05 5:59 am)
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Oni's new thingie
The reason this might seem so short is I cut it off where it would get too grandiose. I'm not sure where to go from this, so I'd like some feedback as to how big it should get.
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Mewtwo had what anyone would consider a nightmare. In darkness, he found a door and opened it. Before him in this lit area was himself. He watched a shadow approach his fallen form, and grab his external spinal cord. In an instant, the cord was torn right off him. The screams of pain were too much to bear, and Mewtwo awoke.
It was only a dream... a fabrication of my mind. Still... my mind had to have constructed it from reality... not nothingness. There is nothing for me to do about it but dismiss it. I would only be wasting time to ponder the truth of that dream.
He stood up and yawned. It was the middle of the night. All the stars were visible this clear night. He observed them attentively.
When I look at the stars, I feel small. It is not like the moon, which is so close and represents me. These stars are far away, far beyond my comprehension. There is so much outside this small world. I should not feel so bound to this earth. It is this lack of bounds that leaves me without any place in life. No matter what I ponder or act, I am not wholly part of this world. I was not born, I merely woke into existance. I cannot involve myself in this world, for the world did not involve itself in me. Am I just a neutral observer, doomed to watch the world go by?
He stepped forward, the dewed grass prickling his feet. He shivered. This night he didn't bother to keep warm.
Was it logical to allow myself discomfort? Why should I deserve comfort? Who am I to weigh what I deserve? I did not deserve to exist, yet here I am. Does my existance make evident my purpose? Perhaps I have purpose, but I do not know what the purpose is. I will search for purpose, rather than meander the wild.
He hovered. He did not have to contemplate flight, he simply willed himself to where he wanted to be. Likewise, he only willed objects to him or elsewhere in what people called "telekinesis." Once airborne, he made his way to a town. A spark of psychic energy lit his eyes, and he instantly knew a secure refuge to finish his slumber. It was a furbished attic of a house. A quick, almost thoughtless teleport brought him inside. Many boxes were here, but there was also furniture. The dust was minimal, which indicated activity up here. Another flicker of psychic power in his eyes informed him that the residents periodically entered the attic once a week. Their presence here was already done for the week, so a strong statistic persuaded him to remain. He didn't really care if he was discovered or not, he could simply carve out anyone's memory of him with surgical precision.
A chenille sofa contained several different blankets. He sorted through them, and picked out the two fleece ones. He sat, slouched, then lay with the blankets gently draped onto him. He realized how easy it was for him to do all this. In the days he avoided Team Rocket, it would've required more effort on his part. It was evident his power continually grew everyday. He used to need hand gestures to concentrate his energy, but now he didn't even so much as look at something to accomplish a whole world of tasks. He had nothing to fear anymore, especially since he destroyed Team Rocket completely. None of Giovanni's contraptions and schemes could contain him, his power was so great then.
That was two years before this chilly night. It was strange, possibly ironic, that one with so much power was so lost in life. Everyone else in the world would kill for such power, they all had wants to accomplish before death. Here he was, verily omnipotent with no idea of his mortality, and without anything to accomplish.
He fell asleep, letting the waves of thoughtlessness overtake him. He was a quiet sleeper, his breathing no louder than when awake. It was a fortunate thing too, as he was unaware of the residents waking early for vacation. Some items for their trip were in the attic, but none were in obvious view of the sofa. The blankets almost completely covered Mewtwo. One would have to walk right up to his face to see that he was on the couch. Whatever was needed was taken, and the family left. Mewtwo awoke late in the morning. He yawned, as he always did when waking up. He didn't get up right away, he remained in the sofa. A slight twinkle of energy in his eye revealed to him the vacancy of the house. A stronger spark indicated his feeling of psychic residue in the house. All living beings leave a trace of their presence wherever they go, but the sensation is almost only detected on a different plane. Mewtwo just detected this fine residue, and knew how and when the family left, and why they left. He shifted a little for coziness.
This is not the first time I sensed that... the feeling humans get when rising from bed. It is almost a begrudging feeling, as if humans dislike getting up for their day. Why do they detest going forward into their day? Is it because that day is one day closer to death? Do they feel they lacked an accomplishment of themselves they know they cannot get back before death? I have never felt that way... I simply get up when my body is annoyed of rest.
Eventually Mewtwo rose and stretched. He kept blanket around him as he went into the house proper. The heat was turned off for the duration of the vacation. Mewtwo didn't bother with resetting it, as the blanket was good enough. He toured the house, and took in a feel of the home and its family.
There were five of them. The father was an accountant, and earned a satisfactory salary for his time spent. The mother was a home-maker, and was their for all three children in their infancy. The eldest son was a teenager, and already chose his college. The daughter only started high school. Still in elementary school was the youngest son. They were a family without pokemon, they were fine without any. The slight energies of the family were like many humans, quite plain and mundane. Mewtwo passed by a bedroom, and sensed a stronger residue. He opened the door to find the teenager's bedroom.
A bedroom was too kind a word, lair was more like it. Immediately left of the door was a dense array of shelves and teenage junk. Along the left wall were more shelves and an integrated desk. Almost seamlessly was the bed against the wall and junk. The far wall held a window, but a clever assortment of wallscrolls and makeshift curtains caused a double-take for the window. A few steps from the bed and against the rear wall was a computer. Next to the computer desk was the closet. Toward the door was a table and TV. Videogame cases littered the table.
Mewtwo stepped in, unsure of where the concentration of residue lay. He checked again, and located a good deal of the energy on some of the shelving, computer, and TV area. He leaned to see a sub-table below the TV. several videogame consoles and DVD player filled the rack. The sensed shelving contained rows of DVDs. Mewtwo wondered if all teenagers were like this.
It makes sense there is a stronger liveliness in humans this age. They have grown enough to think and dream their lives, but they have not grown enough to know they can never reach fufillment. They call those things "anime." I have not seen enough to know what they consider good. Then again, whether I have seen the appealing material is another matter.
He decided on watching the teenager's collection. He sat on the bed and watched for many hours. What appealed to him was the story of a man who only knew the sword. The connection that a character who came from nothing to etch his own life into the world held meaning to Mewtwo. This was only one of the sets of series available, but Mewtwo gave that up for hunger.
The kitchen was only stocked in non-perishables. Mewtwo didn't need to look far to find the recognizeable cereal. He had it many times before, and it never failed him. He poured a bowl, and used the last of the milk. He sat on a stool at the island.
I must have done this two or three times before. I do not know how I am supposed to feel... I, a stranger to this house, still partake of its food. Yet those who live here would never suspect my presence. Am I too be in this world unseen, yet participate in what it has to offer?
His ears twitched. A faint energy resonated with his thoughts. There were two points, each in the teenager rooms.He finished his cereal, then investigated the elder son's room again. It was the computer. He did not need to turn it on, because his probing ability allowed him to integrate his senses to digital storage. His mind navigated the binary channels, and came upon something interesting. Apparently some people knew of Mewtwo, and a fan club of sorts had grown over time.this. I cannot erase each and every fan's memory of me, because there are too many to justify that action. I will le
There are humans who not only know of me... but like me? I never expected anything like this. I cannot erase each and every fan's memory of me, because there are too many to justify that action. I will let them go on, yet I am unsure of what action to take.
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