Belated Introductions

~ZFS Docking Bay, Manhattan, Earth~

If you've ever been stuck in an airport waiting for anything at all, then you don't need to go to the ZFS Docking Bay around the middle of April. It's pretty much that, but worse, because so many people are trying to get their reservations for the ZFS King of Beasts checked out, or buy last-minute tickets to ensure they at least get some kind of a bed to watch the stars go by on. The result is a cacophony of humans, aliens and more forming tidal waves instead of lines, and a staff and service straining under the weight of it all.

Which may have had something to do with the annoyance displayed by a certain pair of angels.

"Bloody security checks!" snapped Dirk, looking as though he dearly wants to punch somebody.

"I know, right?" groaned Pit as he hauled his own suitcase along behind him, one hand running through his hair. "The length they took, you'd think those guys had nothing better to do!" As he spoke, he permitted himself a glance upwards, surveying the irresponsibly massive timetable hanging over the luggage conveyers. Whilst many other flights and ships, headed to many other destinations, were present at this bustling airport, the angel's eyes immediately flickered to the biggest LED display at the top, and relief washed over him as he read what was tattooed upon it like spilled orange juice on a dark tablecloth.

"Thank Palutena," he breathed, "we're still on time."

"Ugh, and a good thing too," grumbled his twin, giving a sharp yank on his own suitcase as it lagged behind on the tiles. "I need to rest my fucking feet right now, I've been on them all day.."

"Well, here's our chance," came the response as the white-winged angel pointed towards the departure seating area to the left. Whilst the majority of the metallic benches were filled with holidaymakers of varying size, shape and shades of blue, by sheer luck he'd managed to find two of them close to the main plaza area, and immediately both brothers made an immediate beeline for them, moving so quickly you'd be forgiven for thinking they'd found water in a desert. As one, they flung themselves onto the unoccupied seats in a mad scramble, eventually sinking down into them with contended sighs as they took the weight off their aching feet.

"Much better," was Dirk's evaluation, and he immediately reached into a pocket and yanked out his 3DS, flipping it open to be greeted with where he'd left off on his game. Pit was quick to follow by pulling out a gadget of his own, but not a games console of any kind - a small, tablet-like device with earphones, which he immediately popped into his ears before tapping the screen. Noticing the movement, Dirk turned to observe his brother, and one eyebrow quirked upward as he observed the swirling pattern of yellow, black and white appearing on the screen - one that he had become recently familiar with.

"Dude?" he quizzed. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now," was the response. "I mean, what else can I do after enduring being patted down for that amount of time?" With another press, Pit conjured up a menu upon the screen and began eagerly scrolling through the options, searching for something that would soothe his annoyance and stress just right on this occasion.

Dirk shifted uneasily in his seat, a little disturbed. "I dunno, bro. You hear some stuff about the Ministry back in Ireland, and how they got the funding to do all this."

"Alright, I'll give you that their methods weren't exactly sound." Pit briefly looked up from his task to fix his brother with a reassuring grin. "But trust me, this new treatment thing's done me nothing but good. Even you had to admit that me not complaining so much about my workload was a nice change for once!"

Dirk permitted himself a small, sardonic chuckle at this, but said nothing, and Pit promptly returned to his device. And as the faint strains of the annoyingly-bouncy jingle filtered out through the older brother's earphones as he set about his unusual form of stress relief, the younger Pitbro looked around the airport, noting the variety of people that pass him by. A small smile passeds over his face as a realisation cameto him, one that, whilst not relevant to their earlier discussion, gives him something of a petty victory over his brother nonetheless.

He doesn't have to wait to meet his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, at another part of the airport, seating arrangements were the least of Beck's concerns.

"Mo-om," he groaned for the umpteenth time that day, "leave my hair alone!"

"For goodness sake, Beck," huffed Melody as she diligently raked the comb through her son's mullet, "you're acting like I'm trying to scalp you! I'm not Tomahawk Man, alright? And besides," she added, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the boy's wiggling against her body, "do you want to end up with hair like your father's?"

Rock, standing a little way off, couldn't help but smile at the scene, knowing full well the discomfort his son was undergoing. But he wasn't above interjecting into the conversation: "Trust me, son, you don't want helmet-hair. None of the girls like a man who resembles a rejected Dragon Ball Z character."

"Do I look like I'm going on a blind date, dad?" whined Beck, almost yowling as the comb once again swept through his hair like a shark on the prowl. With a desperate grunt and one final kick of the legs, the young android finally succeeded in breaking out of the cage of his mother's arms, dropping out of the air and landing with a thump on both feet. Turning back, the boy shot a glare of annoyance up at his mother, who responded by sticking her tongue out at him in mockery of his childish behaviour.

"Look, I'm clean and neat now," grumbled Beck in response. "Can we get a seat now?"

At this, Melody made an exaggerated show of thinking very hard about it, putting one hand on her chin in a theatrical manner. "I don't knooooow~," she chimed, almost musically. "Are you sure you went over your list of things to pack?"

"Yes, mom!" Beck could have screamed at this point - the amount of torture inflicted on him this entire day was starting to tell on his nerves. Whenever he'd pictured his upcoming holiday on the ZFS, he pictured toys galore, a swimming pool and, most importantly of all, gormless and unsuspecting bad guys and goons to pummel senseless as proof of his cutting-edge tech. None of those fantasies involved being constantly harassed by his parents just to make very much sure he'd packed extra pairs of underpants, and he was rapidly starting to lose patience.

Fortunately for him, Melody simply laughed at his exasperation. "Just kidding, Beck, just kidding!"

It was about then that Rock checked his watch, and his eyes bugged out as he saw just what time it was.

"Jeez! Melody, honey, we'd better get going - we'll be late for our reservation otherwise!" His cry alerted Melody to the situation, who glanced up at the clock on the wall to confirm jjst what her husband had said. On seeing what the time was, she too goggled in surprise at the late hour, and then, thinking quickly, dropped to her knees to say a few final words to Beck.

"Alright, son," she began, and here rattled off her last instructions so quickly that it was a wonder that Beck was able to keep up with them. "Remember-to-wear-a-clean-shirt-every-day-and-don't-forget-to-wipe-your-face-every-morning-like-your-grandfather-told-you-and-make-sure-you-change-your-bed-and-ring-me-once-a-day-and-don't-eat-too-many-sweets-before-bedtime-also-try-to-be-civil-to-your-uncle-even-when-he-starts-putting-on-the-glittery-jumpsuit-okay-love-you-have-a-good-time-bye!" And without waiting for Beck to reply she gave him a farewell peck on the cheek and half-sprinting in the direction of the exit, Rock following closely behind.

Beck waved until they were out of sight, then sighed and turned back to the cafe.

Jewel Man lowered the coffee and shot him a smirk.

"Don't worry too much," he croomed. "I'm sure you and I can manage by ourselves~"

At the back of his A.I. Core, Beck groaned.

~A Military Camp, Undisclosed Location, Porphyrion~

 "You mean, you're going alone?"

"That is correct," replied the Tactician nonchalantly, as he pushed a rather bulky-looking book into place in his backpack. The two others at the entrance of his tent - a bulky-looking, pimple-faced knight and a less bulky, but nonetheless intimidating brunette woman - gazed at him with astonishment, his frankness and seeming indifference leaving them at a brief loss for words.

"But... we're talking Orvance here!" cried the woman. "That place where they had that big war among the Star People, when the Festival was happening! There's gonna be trouble again, mark my words - there's never any good news when they get involved!"

"That's right," piped up the man, his armour clinking as he shuffled his feet to a better standing position. "That, and Dragonus is gonna be passing over the place. You can see it even from here," and at this he raised an armoured hand to point at the huge, floating mass that was visible in the sky, it's size apparent even from where they were. "You know what they say about what happens when it comes over a kingdom - Dragon Skies and all that."

The silver-haired man looked up from his packing, smiling up at his comrades. But it's a small and strained smile - not only a sad one, but also one that looks awkward and forced. The overall effect is that of someone who's read about smiling in books, but has a bit of trouble putting it into practice in a social situation. To him, it's rather like putting on a mask.

"Marco, Celia," he responded warmly, "your concern does you credit. But firstly, I have met the Star People before, as you know well from last year. And, contrary to popular opinion, they were as hospitable, friendly and accommodating as the nearest innkeeper at any establishment of our country you care to name." As he completed the sentence, he turned back to his packing, managing to slip a paper folder into a gap between books, before throwing the lid over its contents.

"Secondly," he added with a grunt as he struggled with the clip, "this is something I must undertake alone. Despite our best efforts as a team, we have come no closer as to solving the mystery of my identity - even my name remains unknown to me. I can only conclude, therefore, that my working apart from the group is the only way to efficiently and decisively solve this puzzle, one that has been hanging over my head all of my life."

An exasperated huff left Celia, the blonde hearing perfectly well what her comrade is saying but refusing to believe it. She quickly rounded upon Marco, looking to vent her frustrated disbelief on something else, and the taller knight actually shrank back at her expression of annoyance. She may have been only an archer, but there was a good reason for that - people fleeing from her temper made better targets.

"Tell him, Marco," she snapped, pointing at the robed man as he growled uncharacteristically at his uncooperative luggage. "Tell him this is a stupid idea and he's going to get hurt again."

Marco blinked, a little slow on the uptake. "Why? You just said it yourself. Besides," he added, with an almost defiant tone to his voice, "he can hold his own. He's got that magic book, remember?"

"Oh, yes," cried Celia sarcastically, throwing her hands up into the air. "Because that worked out so well the last time he left our company! Oh, he ended up with a bandaged head and a dire need for a new change of clothes, but it doesn't matter because this is something he needs to do himself!"

"Now, look, sis," Marco began to say. But that train of thought was interrupted by the click of a rucksack stop finally locking together. The two warriors turned to find the Tactician, with a triumphant cry at having bested the strap, hoisting the bag onto his shoulders, shifting it's weight into a comfortable position on his back. Celia merely rolled her eyes at the scene, her brother by contrast offering no input as the shorter man reached for the holdall by his sleeping bag, hoisting it up before walking towards them.

"I have already handed in my Absence of Duty notice," he announceed as he emerged from the tent into the late morning sunlight, "so the general knows what I'm doing. And with any luck, I'll only be a day's travel or so away from the garrison you are all moving to. I know this seems an inconvenient arrangement, but believe me when I say I have this all planned out with the least amount of inconvenience. And now, I really must be going, or I will be late for the opening ceremony at this rate."

He turns, took two steps forward, and bounced off somebody with an "Oof!" of surprise.

"No, you're not." Celia barred his waY, hands on her hips and face stern - she was the obstacle he'd collided with. "I've explained this to you until I'm blue in the face, but it's obviously not getting through that thick skull of yours. So I'll say it again - you have a duty to you King and-"

"Oh, dear," groaned Marco, placing one gloved hand upon his forehead. This was his sister on the starting line of what he liked to call "Lecture Mode". Everyone in the camp was familiar with this, where she poured out her mind and opinion on something or someone and would only stop until some other bodily function, like hunger or the need to piss took over. It was usually directed at some soldier or other who'd offended her in some way, and men and women alike dreaded to hear the moment when the archer got into full swing, ranting at the top of her voice at whatever unfortunate soul had invoked her wrath on this occasion. At any moment, it seemed as though the Tactician was going to be that somebody copping an earful from her.

Fortunately for Marco, she never got that far.

"Tace."

It was one of those blink-and-you'll-miss-it spells, a mere flash of the eyes and a hazing of the air that would otherwise go unnoticed. But the effect was dramatic - Celia's voice instantly cut out, not even a whisper coming from her mouth as her incoming lecture was stalled by surprise. Her slender brow knitted in confusion as she silently worked her mouth and jaw, at first unable to figure out what had happened, before catching sight of the stern yet knowing look upon the magician's face. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she immediately began launching into what would have no doubt been an expletive-filled tirade at her fellow commander for pulling such a cheap trick, had she the voice to convey it.

Unfortunately, the silencing spell's effect meant that it merely looked like she was pulling a very convincing impression of an angry chimpanzee, arms flailing and face contorting like putty. Unable to help himself, Marco promptly burst out laughing at his sister's predicament, his knees giving out as he fell onto his rear with a clattering of armour. Whereupon the furious Celia rounded upon him, screamed something inaudible in his general direction and then turned and stormed away towards the camp's medical tent, needing only cartoon steam clouds pouring from her ears to complete the image.

A larger smile of amusement played on the Tactician's face as he watched Marco, still chuckling, pull himself up onto his feet, dusting himself down.

"Dicing with death, eh, mate?" the knight joked as he put one arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "You know how much she hates that spell!"

The silver-haired mage's smile widened into a genuine grin, his usual stoic demeanor sliding aside in the company of someone he was comfortable with. "Why else would I employ it so often?" he rejoined, in a hearty tone that matched his friend's own jocular mannerisms. "I will admit, however, that for a moment I was afraid she would actually strike me!"

"No need to worry about that," assured Marco. "She's all bark and no bite - always has been." Disengaging from his companion as he spoke, the knight quickly turned and began walking in the direction of the medical tent, no doubt in order to observe Celia receiving yet another dose of treatment for the spell. As he did so, however, he turned and called over his shoulder, raising his voice to be heard over the clatter and humming as the morning camp activities got properly underway.

"I'd clear out now, if I was you - she's gonna have some choice words aimed your way!"

The Tactician nodded, knowing all too well what those words would more than likely be. Then, without waiting to see if Marco would succeed in delaying his irate sister, he turned and quickly began to make tracks, walking at a very brisk pace that seemingly ignored the weight of both his holdall and the rucksack he carried with him. It wasn't long before he'd put a very good distance between himself and the camp - enough so that by the time Celia came seeking her usual brand of petty revenge, he'd be long one and she'd have to give up on the whole thing.

In his mind's eye, the rolling hills of Wensdale mingled and merged with the shining world of the Star People, and a whistful sigh escaped his parted lips.

It really had been too long.

~The Barrier, Northern Porphyrion~

The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the Barrier. It's bright fire blossomed on the horizon and tinted the packed snow, sparkling golden under red-daubed skies dotted with dark grey clouds. A shaft of light pierced through the thin veil of mist, striking the glacial ice and throwing up a hazy rainbow into the air that shimmered like heat haze. Yet there was no warmth to be found, for the driving wind carried with it the bitter cold of the north, and flurries of snow danced across the ground in freezing white sheets.

This didn't seem to bother the lone figure standing on the southernmost edge of the glacier, though.

Eyes squinting against the morning sun, Ymir the Tusk casually uncorked the stein he clutched in one gloved paw and brought it to his mouth for a swig. It had been two days since he'd begun his trek - two days since the epic bar brawl at the Grouchy Walrus that had seen the end of Markus the Mighty, the self-proclaimed strongest fighter in all his village. Tables had been smashed, glasses had been shattered over heads, and in the end yet another foolish challenger had been laid out on the beer-soaked floor, the patronage toasting the Tuskarr's victory. The ale he gulped down at this moment was a souvenier from the barkeep himself, and Ymir had been more than happy to accept it.

Yet there was one thirst he had failed to quench - the thirst for battle. Markus had been a warm-up, as far as he'd been concerned, and it seemed nowadays that there was nobody left to challenge him, nobody to match him in the arena. The old champions were gone, and all the new blood springing up was impatient and headstrong, with none of the respect for the old ways or appreciation for a hearty scrap. None of them cared for the meaning of the fight anymore - they only bothered to learn the fighting arts in order to boost their egos or seek petty revenge on class bullies or what have you. For a while, Ymir had felt a bit dejected.

But now, as he finished his drink and replaced the cork, his gaze was set on the far horizon, where the vague outline of towns and cities upon rolling hills could be seen through the mist. That, the barkeeper had told him, was Orvance - the same kingdom that saw the great War of the Stars but a year ago, where warriors of untold and unparalleled strength clashed for the fate of the kingdom, and indeed, the entire planet. Admittedly, the betusked brawler knew very little about the nature of stars, other than they served as useful guides on dark nights when a seal hunt had gone disastrously wrong.

But fighting... now, there was a siren call he couldn't refuse.

With a low chuckle, Ymir stepped down from the glacier, in that one movement crossing the borders between the North and Orvance itself. And as he continued his long trek south, the question crossed his mind of what Orvancian ale tasted like.

~Castle Bloodaxe, The Enchanted Forest~

It is a well-known and popular fact that Orcs do not form armies. The word "army" implies the presence of discipline, co-ordination and tactical aptitude that was beyond their simple, ale-addled minds. Ask an Orc to co-ordinate a team of footballers and he'd take one blank look at the blackboard before putting their fist through it, then charging out to piledrive the opposing team into the pitch. A better term for their military gatherings would be "rabble", since despite the numbers they still very much behaved like a crowd of hooligans on the lookout for windows to smash and cars to steal.

This particular rabble, emerging from the forests that surrounded Castle Bloodaxe, thought they were going to have a good time of it. The building they were approaching on looked virtually defenseless - their scouts had reported not a sign of archers on the battlements or guardsmen on the gates, and not even a single trace of a patrol had been detected on the surrounding land. Not one of the greenskins could believe their seemingly-amazing fortune, and had immediately clamored en masse to begin the day's pillaging in style. Had they the brains to remember just whose lands they were invading, then they probably not have been so cocky.

As it was, they had gotten just onto the third verse of their bone-chilling war chant before the portcullis flew open like it had been stabbed up the bum.

"HA'WAAAAAAY THA' LAAAAAADS!"

The poor bastards never saw it coming - the green and orange blur zooming out of the doors moved almost too fast for the eye to track. The front line of goblins was sent flying backwards in an instant, crashing into the burlier Orcs at the back and bowling them over like ninepins. The archers on the left flank immediately lost whatever morale they could claim to have, throwing down their weapons and bolting into the forest screaming. As for the ram-carrying siege trolls, they were so slow on the uptake that by the time they realized just what had happened, half of them were already unconscious from a hefty boot to the skull.

In a matter of minutes, it was all over - hardly a battle so much as a one-sided curbstomping. The rabble was in dismay, half of them in flight and the rest of them either unconscious or groaning from their fractured bones. The goblins were nowhere to be found, the catapults were wrecked shambles and the sole dragon they thought to bring along was tangled among the trees, whimpering in confusion. And amongst the confusion of it all stood the red-haired, axe-wielding barbarian princess who had caused the ruckus in the first place.

As the prone Orcs looked up at her, terrified and bewildered, Barbara Bloodaxe dusted her skirt down and flashed her trademark gap-toothed grin around the scene.

"Sorry te lace ye aal laak that," she called out in her trademark thick accent, "but Aa'm i' a bit o' a pelt. Star Festival's gannin' on doon Orvance whey, and Aa'm clammin' mightily fer a gud ale an' roast far ahint yon fells! Bide a few wee months, an' Aa'll be howway hyem 'afore ye can put a cuddie oop Blackwell Rock!"

And with that, the woman hoisted her axe over one shoulder and sped off into the forest, through a gap in the tress that marked the begginings of the cart trail. The Orcs took one look at her retreating form, hair flying in the wind, and decided that maybe the imp who'd wanted to start a band instead wasn't such a moron after all.

~The Drunken Gryphon, Wensdale~

Tavish is probably in a good mood. The Star Festival is coming round once more, meaning customers would soon be coming in to sample his huge menu of food and drink and, above all, make him huge wodges of cash. The Star People are returning in droves to share technology, recipes and more, and their unique brand of entertainment would inevitably draw in even more people from far and wide. And those people would need feeding, beds to stay in and an opportunity to get utterly smashed whilst shouting at the scrying glass. So yes, he's most likely in a good mood.

So in all the excitement of getting his tavern ready for the big tourist rush, he may not notice one of the floorboards shifting.

"Kero..." 

Steel Komodo's Top 11 Favourite Pokémon

As I may have expounded on a previous blog post of mine, I still love Pokémon. I love it from it's cheesy chiptune soundtrack to it's ever-growing legion of colourful beasties to tame and build into unstoppable powerhouses. It's one of the few games (apart from Fire Emblem, which I just discovered) where I can tolerate turn-based combat, and with Pokémon X and Pokémon Y looming in an October-ly direction, I thought I would pay tribute to a series that has managed to capture my attention for as long as it has (except for the spin-offs, haven't touched those yet). So here we go - another Top Eleven list, this time comprising of my most favorite 'Mons of all time, from the humble days of Red/Blue to the current generation of Black/White.

A small thing to keep in mind: This list does not in any way factor how the Pokémon are viewed competitively. Because I am diametrically opposed to the notion of tiers, wherever a Pokémon is considered tourney-viable or not has no holding on the progression of this list. This is simply those 'Mons I think look cool or inventive or played a big part in my experience with the games.

So here we go!

11. Smeargle
Unless you're one of those people who don't have an appreciation for the wierd, then Smeargle isn't for you. This is why he makes it so low on the list - he's not really a Pokémon that most would consider "cool" or "inspired" in any way. He's a Normal-type, a typing which is considered mostly useless even in regular casual play. His design is nothing to write home about - a monkey with a paintbrush for a tail and a tongue sticking out like he's tried to eat thistles like Tigger did in The House at Pooh Corner. And he only ever learns one move - Sketch, which randomly turns into one of the many hundreds of moves available, and not all of them useful. So what makes him special compared to the fan favourites like Gardevoir or Lucario?

I guess I like Smeargle exactly for that reason. He's not over-the-top in concept like Lucario or a legendary like Deoxys. Hell, his design is pretty simplistic, even by the standards of most Normal-type Pokémon today. But he's an oddball, one of those Pokémon that even by the wacked-out standards of the world he occupies just doesn't make any logical sense. And sometimes we need the oddballs to balance out the overblown "cool" look of legendaries, or the mundanity of most of the 'mons you find right outside your doorstep. On top of that, Sketch makes him something of an unpredictable foe - no two battles against him are ever the same, and you have to be on your toes all the time. Smeargle is unique because of his oddity, and that's why he makes this list.

10. Escavalier
Who remembers those Pokémon that could only evolve when traded? Well, up until Black/White, the series was kind of hoping you didn't. Generation 1 introduced it with four different creatures - Haunter, Kadabra, Machamp and Graveler, and Generation 2 then refined the concept by adding Pokémon what could only evolve when traded whilst holding a certain item - Slowbro to Slowking, Onix to Steelix and so forth. But from then on the concept kinda stagnated, with no Pokémon that embraced the concept bringing anything new to the table apart from Clampearl and it's two evolutions. But then along came Shelmet and Karrablast, and they said "Hey, remember when this was new and exciting? We sure do! HAIKIBA!"

Focusing soley on Escavalier, it's easy to see why this makes the list. It's based on the concept of European knights, which means it has an awesome crest on it's head and fucking lances for arms. And if that wasn't badass enough, it's a proper Bug/Steel type, none of that wishy-washy in-betweeny approach Burmy and Wormadam were going for. This means it only has one true type weakness - fire. The rest can only watch in despair whilst Escavalier stabs them full of holes like Swiss Cheese, with it's lance arms. If Chuck Norris was a Pokémon, then Escavalier might not be that Pokémon, but he'd be pretty darn close.  Look at him. He's too busy rocking those lance arms to care for your problems. And that's why he's badass.

9. Ninjask
Ninjask is one of those Pokémon where you just know it's going to be cool. I mean, the name alone rolls beautifully off of the tongue - Ninjask. The moment you hear that name, you know good things will come of it. I mean, I could talk about how much better it's counterpart Shedinja is due to the Wonder Guard ability making it practically invincible, or how it's preevolution Nincada is a horrible bore to train because it takes so long to learn anything decent. I could also mention any of the more viable Bug types out there, like Dustox or Drapion with their poision-based movesets designed for crippling the opposition and much higher attack stats. But basically fuck you, it's Ninjask. It's the Die Hard thing - the fact that it exists quashes all arguments.

I mean, look at it. It's sleek, it's compact, and yet it has claws longer than it's own body and a golden mask like something out of a martial arts drama. It's a look that screams "I might be small, but look away for even a split second and I'll fucking end you". And it's Pokédex entry states that apparently it moves so goddamn fast that for a long time people thought it was literally invisible Anything that moves that fast is definitely worth adding to your collection. Ninjask is probably one of my favourite non-legendary Generation 3 Pokémon of all, if not the best, and it stands out because it was a Pokémon that, from looking at it alone, I knew I had to have when I started out. And that's an achievement, as far as being an awesome Pokémon goes.

8. Chatot
Like Smeargle before him, Chatot is one of my favourites because of his completey oddity compared to the rest of the cast. Chatot was one of the first Pokémon to be revealed for the Diamond and Pearl games, alongside Buizel and Mantyke, as a promotion for the upcoming Pokémon Ranger movie starring Manaphy. And we were all hyped as hell for more details on it - we wanted to know if it was a pure Flying type, what moves it could learn, what sort of significance would it play. We were to be dissapointed quite a bit - it stuck to the Normal/Flying mold of most bird Pokémon, it was significantly weaker than most over Flying types and it was only available via trading with some other douche on a random route. It was a novelty, merely existing to flesh out the Pokémon roster than add anything new.

But it's Chatot's unique feature that earns it a spot on my list. Chatter, a move that damages and confuses the opponent, can be customised to play back any sounds you like by speaking into the DS microphone, which also changes it's in-game cry. Now, I want you to imagine facing this thing in a fight and suddenly being confronted with a shout of "HI BILLY MAYS HERE" from this otherwise cute and innocent-looking Pokémon, or even Dante from DmC bragging about his penis size. It's this tiny yet easily-abused feature which puts Chatot at the number 8 spot on this list - sure, it exists only to shoehorn in the DS mic, but who wouldn't want a Pokémon that recites internet memes every time it attacks? I know I would catch it in a heartbeat.

7. Typhlosion
Anyone fortunate enough to choose a Cyndaquil at the start of Gold/Silver, and not stupid enough to pick Chikorita or Totodile, would have their patience rewarded. From a sleepy shrew-thing it evolved into Quilava, which was awesome in it's own right - a flaming badger-weasel with a look of malicious intent and the firepower to back that expression up. But with enough perseverance, levelling up and swearing at enemy Pokémon, both wild and Trainer-owned alike, then an already-cool beastie bulked up into the marvel of creation we call Typhlosion. Evolution doesn't describe the change - it's more akin to a sudden steroid binge that turned it into a hulking mass of awesome - even as a kid, I thought Typhlosion was a baddas mofo.

Look at that majestic yellow and black fur. Look at that collar of flames, so striking and imposing on what would otherwise be a dull and mundane creature. Look at those red eyes, that bellowing mouthful of sharp teeth. This is one of those Pokémon you just don't want to cross, even if you know you have a type advantage against it. If this thing had a voice, it would sound like Christian Bale, storming around the battlefield and yelling at it's comrades that it's going to kick their fucking asses if they don't shut up for a second. On top of that, it was introduced to make Flame Wheel, the cool indie alternative to Fire Blast, a better move by being associated with it. Keep your Feraligatr's, man, this badass badger's where it's at.

6. Genesect
Okay, I swear this is gonna be the last bug type that gets featured on this list - Escavalier and Ninjask were already quite enough. But if you've been on Chatzy recently, you will understand fully why I have found a new appreciation for a Pokémon that, apart from the cassette gimmick, seems rather underrated as Pokémon go. Okay, so it's a bit obvious that a Pseudo-Legendary would make this list - they have to look kinda cool in order to make it worth all the effort to capture them, or else no-one would even bother. But Genesect makes this list for one specific reason, one which Gooper Blooper pointed out to us all on the Chatzy but I think bears repeating here. Genesect is basically the Pokémon equivalent of a Zoofighter.

Think about it. He's a prehistoric, carnivorous insect ressurected by a team of morally-questionable scientists and augmented with various mechanical upgrades in order to be a weapon of mass destruction. He has metal plating instead of a carapace and a massive cannon on his back. And to top it off, he can turn into a jet and fucking fly. I don't care if it's coincidental - the moment I catch a Genesect, I am going to name him Gravitas in honour of the wonderful animal pugilism and forum-based frolics that brought us all together. And then I'm gonna teach him Fly, because he can learn that apparently, and sing snatches of the Transformers theme every time we head to a new town. Not sure about checking out his new movie, though.

5. Anorith
Ah, the Fossil Pokémon. In Generation 1, they were a novelty - pick one of these two uber-rare, extinct Pokémon and that's it. They kinda got abandoned for Gen 2 before Ruby/Sapphire brought them back with a vengeance, reminding us of how awesome they were. And now every Pokémon games since then has done the concept to death and we're all wishing they'd hurry up and jump the shark by throwing in the inevitable T-Rex/Stegosaurus combo already. But Generation 3's fossil Pokémon deserve a close examination, mostly because they didn't have to rely on stock beasts like Generation 4's felt it had to do. And in my playthrough of Ruby, I picked up Anorith, so that's partly why he makes the Number 5 spot.

I think Anorith was the Pokémon that introduced me to Anomalocaris, the creature that inspired it and it's evolution, Armaldo. Anomalocaris, for the unitiated, was a prehistoric sea creature that lived in the Precambrian era, a voracious predator that used it's spiked mouthparts to grab hold of food and hold it in place to be devoured. For Game Freak to base one of their new Pokémon on a prehistoric creature that had only been recently discovered is pretty ballsy, and on top of that it shows the wealth of imagination they used to have before Black/White started rehashing Pidgey and Rattata. So despite his double-weakness to Grass types and goofy looks, Anorith secures a comfortable 5th place on my Top 11 Favourite Pokémon for sheer imagination.

4. Electivire
Let's face it - creating new Pokémon is hard. I have enough trouble conceptualizing an entire roster of starters, let alone 150 of the new bastards. This may explain why Game Freak had to rehash old concepts for Black/White, and also why they often filled the roster of previous games with older Pokémon to save the effort of creating new 'Mons. Now, there is one way to get around this pitfall, and that is to design new evolutions of previous Pokémon to try and give those golden oldies some fresh time in the spotlight. But this is extremely risky, and if you don't do it right (Lickilicky, anyone?) then people are going to hate you for it, wondering why you didn't just use the slots to create new Pokémon instead.

Electivire is a new evolution of a previous Pokémon done right. It's everything one expects an evolved Electabuzz to be - it's muscular, it's bizzare-looking and it has jump-leads for tails - always a bonus in my books. The whole design of the thing screams powerful, brutal and sadistic, not afraid to punch your lights out if you cross it in any way and looking as though it's plotting more pain against your life with every moment. If it were a pro wrestler, it would have this for it's theme and it would employ suplexes and backbreakers at every opportunity. Rhyperior could have taken this spot for similar reasons, but Electivire holds the distinction of looking cooler than it's previous form, which is more than can be said for Magmortar. Or Lickilicky.

3. Bulbasaur
I don't really think I need to explain why Bulbasaur even needs to be on this list. But if I didn't, then that would be cheating, so I shall. See, the reason Bulbasaur makes it in here over any of the other starters was because, for players of Red/Blue, he was the only logical choice. The first two Gym Leaders, Brock and Misty, both used types that Bulbasaur, in all of his Grass type glory, had absolutely no trouble curb-stomping given the right training. With enough patience, one could teach Bulbasaur his two big Grass moves, Leech Seed and Vine Whip, in little-to-no time at all, and then one could simply thrash both Leaders without even needing assistance from any other Pokémon on your team at all.

You picked Charmander? How cute. Good luck getting curbstomped by Brock because you forgot to catch a Mankey outside of Vidiran City, close to where Gary F. Oak was lurking. You picked Squirtle? Fair enough, you'd be alright against Brock, but you'd have to comb the grasses looking for Grass types to take on Misty later on, or else you were fucked. But for those of us who had the brains to put aside the dumb argument of which starter is the coolest (IT'S SNIVY YOU MORONS), then Bulbasaur was the only starting Pokémon that made any sense to pick. Start off with this little dino-frog thing and you'd go far, my friend. You'd go so far that Team Rocket would need the Hubble Telescope just to catch the merest glimpse of you.

2. Vaporeon
Yes, I'm not making it any secret that first and third Generations are my favourite, am I? Point is, they stand out because they were the only Pokémon games I completed all the way through at some point. I never beat Gold, so that's why it's lineup doesn't get much attention as the others do on this list. But back on topic - the only argument dumber than which starter was the coolest was which evolution of Eevee was the coolest. Nobody stuck up for plain old vanilla Eevee  - it merely existed to allow people access to Super Jolteon Arcade Edition or Ultimate Flareon vs. Erika 3, with some training and a stone's purchase being the only hurdles. But my favourite will always be Vaporeon Continuum Shift Extend, and this is where the analogy breaks down.

I literally have no idea what it is that attracts me to Vaporeon so much. Is it it's more defensive playstyle, with attacks like Acid Armour that contrast with Jolteon's speed bias or Flareon's attack-focused growth? Is it it's sleek, mermaid-inspired design that I always found more aesthetically-pleasing than Jolteon's spikes or Flareon's fluffy appearance? Or was it the fact that I was finally sick of Charmeleon losing in fights and got a quick and dirty Water type to compensate, regardless of the fact that Erika was a Grass type user and therefore a pushover? Nevertheless, you can brag about your Leafeons and Sylveons all you like, but Vaporeon will alwasy be my preferred Eeveelution of choice. (Ugh, I hate that term)

And my Number 1 Favourite Pokémon is...

1. Jirachi
Now, I know what you're thinking. "Oh, a Legendary/Psychic-type Pokémon got the top spot! I'm looking forward to reading about how SK thinks it looks cute and how it's got all these fancy moves and how it fixes a game-breaking bug and that he genuinely liked the movie it appeared in!" And while I do like Jirachi for some, if not all, of those reasons (I never say Jirachi: Wish Maker, so I can't pass opinion on that), trust me when I say Jirachi doesn't get the top spot on those reasons alone. No, the Wish Pokémon gets here for an extremely specific and strong reason, one which I hope you'll agree with me on - mostly due to the fact that involves inflicting a lot of mental pain on oneself. Brace yourself, because this is gonna be a shocker.

It's the sole reason I played Pokémon Channel.

Allow me to wait whilst you recover from your heart attacks, replace your exploded heads and empty your mind of all those fucks. And then allow me to elaborate on that previous sentence.

As I'm sure everyone who can call themselves a Pokémon fan knows, Pokémon Channel is a godawful abomination. It's like Asura's Wrath in that I'd be hard pressed to even call it a video game, but this doesn't have the excuse of being, well, Asura's Wrath. For all it's faults, Asura's Wrath at least had over-the-top visuals, an epic soundtrack and that non-sequitur hot springs scene. Pokémon Channel is a painful, snore-worthy grind-fest where you baby-sit the world's most ungrateful Pikachu as he watches the same shitty fucking television shows for the eleventy-billionth SHITTY FUCKING TIME okay I'm calm. The point is, with it's utterly asinine setup and card-collecting mechanic, this seems to be the kind of game that assumes children will play anything as long as that fucking yellow rat is on it, and it's just as condescending as you would imagine. Were it not for the somewhat cool shopping channel featuring a sunglasses-wearing Squirtle, as well as the existance of Billy Bob's Huntin'-n-Fishin', I'd be inclined to call this the worst game I've ever played.

But it is worth it, oh, it is so worth sitting through the torture. Once you've unlocked all those channels and extras, found those CD's in the game's clumsy attempt to add some kind of a plot and sat through that god-awful Pichu Bros. cartoon, then you get the opportunity to download Jirachi to your copy of Ruby or Sapphire, provided you have a space in your party. The opportunity to get my hands on this exclusive, ultra-rare Pokémon was the only reason I brought the game - I knew I was diving into pure shit when I loaded the game up, and my only regret was spending money on the thing. But once it was over and I could get my mitts on Jirachi, then the sense of achievement I felt was greater even than beating the Elite Four itself. "Finally," I thought to myself, "a reason to stop playing this godawful waste of ploygons and programming routines!"

When you have to sit through literall Hell to reach the light at the end of the tunnel, then the reward seems all the sweeter when you consider the pain you had to inflict on yourself. Jirachi isn't just my favourite Pokémon of all time - it's the Pokémon that I forced myself to play a shitty spinoff game for. He's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the gold medal at the end of the marathon, the loving kiss from the princess after the grueling battle against the dragon. His existance alone made purchasing Pokémon Channel completely worth it.

Also, he has a third eye in his stomach.

Fucking creepy.

And now, honourable mentions:

• Omastar: For generally looking badass, but losing out to Anorith on coolness factor.
• Suicine: For being my all-time favourite of any legendary trio. But putting three legendaries on this list would be cheating.
• Marshtomp: For carrying my team through the difficult Flannery period of Ruby. Sadly, was not badass enough to beat out Bulbasaur, currently occupies slot 12 on this list.
• Darkrai: For sparing my parents a grueling drive all the way to Manchester for the sake of an exclusive download event. Thank God for Action Replay. Also for having (imo) the only good movie in the series.
• Krookodile: For basically being Sharptooth in The Land Before Time. Seriously, go check his Pokédex entry.
• The Litwick Family: For being the best fucking concept for Pokémon ever.

Well, that was another Top 11 list! Hope you enjoyed reading it, and stay tuned for hopefully more original content!

A Pokémon Reboot Ramble (Update: Minor Ideas!)

Now, before we begin, I shall admit to all that I still enjoy playing the Pokémon games. There's something about catching a variety of coloured animals and making them beat each other up to evolve into bigger animals that is both oddly cathartic and maddeningly addictive. But now there's at least five generations of mainstream games, adding up to a total of over 649 or so of the little bastards now, and like an ancient family cake recipie the main formula of the game has barely changed, aside from a few ingredients that don't really do much of anything.

And the occasional physical embodiment of all living matter, but you don't really taste that.

With that said, I feel now is the perfect time to introduce a few ideas I have been tossing around for a hypothetical reboot or (Arceus forbid) a sixth generation of games. So without further ado, let's release these little mental gremlins from their balls and get rolling.

Drop the National Pokédex
The whole point of the Pokémon games is to fill up your Pokédex - which you recieve at the start of every quest - with every kind of animal available in the game's region. You do this by catching the little buggers in the wild, evolving them by beating the tar out of other people's animals and trading them with friends. Unlike the average person, I was never able to do this, either because I got bored of wandering through the tall grass to find that goddamned Abra or I was to busy kicking the gym leader's backsides. But if you are a better person than I am (and I'm sure someone reading this is), then you manage to accomplish this amazing feat alongside thrashing the bad guys and becoming the champion of the league, which is like being a movie star except not.

Whereupon your reward... is to catch more of the things.

Let's put this into context, shall we? Over five successive generations of main games, the number of Pokémon has swollen from a relatively small mob at the time of Red and Blue to something equal to a goddamned Roman legion by the time of Black and White. There's over 649 of the things. Six Hundred and Forty Nine. Not coutning the alternate forms of Deoxys or Rotom, because they're hard enough to keep track of in the first place.

And you thought the line for the school lunch queue was bad.

Now, don't get me wrong. I loved every generation's Pokémon equally, because I'm not some rabid nerd who likes to think that Bulbasaur was way better than Snivy, not by a long shot. I even hold a grudging respect for the oddballs like Jynx and Wobbuffet, because they add a bit of spice (or racism accusations) to the legions of animals. But to ask me to catch every species of the damn things from every other region after I just worked my tailbone off filling up my first Pokédex, kicking some extremist moron's head in and filling my wallet with enough money to purchase the Unova region several times over on the way, is asking way too goddamn much. I simply cannot put that much time and effort into repeating something I have been doing along the course of the But Thou Must plot for the sake of fulfilling the proffessor character's obssessive-compulsiveness. It's like being asked to sweep the leaves off your driveway in the hopes of getting a nice crisp fiver at the end of the day, only to be told that now you're expected to sweep the leaves off the driveways along the entire damn street. It's too much of the same thing, arbitrarily thrown in your face after you think it's all over and done with.

Also, I see no value in catching the monsters you worked your socks off to earn in the previous generations. Catching a Pidgey in every game gets boring after a while.

Nobody likes you, Pidgey.

So let's just do the sensible thing, Nintendo. Save the players the trouble and just drop the National Dex altogether. I know that you like to give the occasional nod to all your previous games, but overwhelming us with the task of catching every single one (or R4 cheating them in my case, mwah hah hah) is too overwhelming. Let us focus on the new guys just for once, and let the Golden Oldies relax for a bit.

Make the Main Characters Less Wimpy
This is a point that I feel is the root cause of quite a lot of things in the Pokémon series, and ties neatly into my next mad gremlin of an idea. It could also be rendered somewhat moot, considering your voiceless, pre-pubescant, animé-haired avatar eventually has to square up to creatures that could easily be considred living gods.

Trust me, you need serious cahoonies to stand up to these guys.

But that's not what I'm on about. What I'm trying to say is that your avatar, wherever it be a dude or a chick, is largely constrained by the plot that is rather arbitrarily thrust upon them. I feel that too much of them is expected - they have to catch over six hundred different types of potentially world-destroying monsters, they have to beat up skilled trainers to become the game's equivalent of celebrities, and they are also required to stop some cookie-cutter cartoon terrorists from screwing up the environment or the fabric of space and time or whatever they're trying to smash beyond repair this time. And they all go along with it because that's how the story goes.

Now, I know that the characters can't just up and say "Screw this, I'm outta here", because they can't. They're just blank, voiceless slates for the player to project themsevles onto, and it's kinda hard for the silent hero to refuse the call of duty. Besides, the fun you can have with that can liven up the dull moments when you're stuck in one city because that gym leader is too tough for you. My playthrough of Pearl saw me turn my character into a Duke Nukem wannabe who spouted nonsense about chewing gum and kings at the start of every trainer fight, whilst Heart Gold saw me imagine an irritable bastard who laments the fact that everyone only thinks of good ideas at the last minute, which often seems to be the case in these games.

"Why, oh, why am I the only sane person in this region?"

But all of this is compunded by the fact that, as is the case with every JRPG I could name, all the player really does is ferry Duke Katchem from one mind-numbingly boring conversation/story event to the next, tied to the rails of a plot that veers back and forth between Rocky and Ocean's Eleven in tone. One moment you're training your critters to kick your rival's butt into next week, the next you're foiling Team Plasma's (admittedly original and intruiging) plot to screw up your concept of Pokémon/Trainer relationships beyond recognition. It would be nice to have the option to simply ignore one part of the plot and focus on another - gleefuly ignoring the rampant terrorism to gather an army of demigods worthy of Noah's Ark.

Also, when you lose a trainer battle and have all of your Pokémon faint, for some reason your character "whites out" and wakes up in the nearest Pokémon Centre minus a few hundred dollars. What's going on there? Is our hero secretly a pacifist who cannot stand the sight of wounded animals? Did all the excitement and stress of the fight cause the blood to go to their heads? Or did they suffer a spontaneous heatstroke, causing them to pass out in the middle of the road? And why would the dude you've just been fighting drag you all the way to the Pokémon Centre, only to loot your unconcious form and rush back to their predetermined spot on the road in anticipation of the inevitable rematch? At the very least, you should just be able to walk away on your own to revive your team, unable to fight other trainers or wild Pokémon until your team is at full strength again.

And on the subject of story...

Give Us Some Choice
This is a thing that me and the guys on Skype have been talking about, and we all agree that it would be a nice thing to see implemented. The Pokémon series has an underlying theme of growing up and independance which, I feel, seems to get lost in the madcap rush to say you captured the God of Time. And the obligatory "Catch 'Em All/Become The Champ/Save The World" story is getting a bit hackneyed, to be brutally honest. So in order to try and coax some life into this series, I'd like to propose a moral choice/story path hybrid system. You know, the thing that Shadow the Hedgehog claimed to have, but didn't because it was an awful game.

Now, I'm not saying we need to go the Mass Effect route and conjure up a thousand different story paths for the mute protagonists, and not just because it probably wouldn't be technologically feasable. Given the cutesy nature of the game, it's not really a good idea for the player to swing between righteous paragon and puppy-kicking bastard at the push of a button, because it just wouldn't mesh with the tone of the series in general. Also, there's also no real need for an optional story path that sees you go all vigilante, build an army of Pokémon to storm the bad guy's base and wreck his shit up.

Not gonna lie, though, that would be awesome.

No, what I'd like to see is something a bit more basic than that. Instead of being forced into what is basically the world's biggest fetch-quest, you get given the Starter Pokémon and the Pokédex, told to make your own way in the world and sent out to do your thing. And this is where it gets interesting - you could collect the whole set of super-powerful beings, but you could also choose not to. You could also choose not to foil the terrorist group's evil plot, or not to climb a mountain of humiliated foes to become the regional champion. You could do any one on its own, or a combination of them, or all three - the player makes the desicion of how to approach this big sprawling world full of monsters and people. Or - and this is a big or, because I'm not sure where this would fit in with what I have now - you could reach a point where you're given the option to simply say "sod it", settle down and start a family.

This, I feel, would be the biggest and most important change to the games. Not only would it dispose of a storyline that's gone a bit mouldy, like week-old bread, but it also gives the player a bit more freedom. In a sense, it changes the genre of the game from a standard Adventure/RPG hybrid into something akin to a sandbox crossed with the RPG elements - you're free to pursue whichever aspect of the plot suits you best as you feel like it. I know some of you are going to draw comparisons to GTA, because we all know GTA did the sandbox-game thing first (/sarcasm), and while it might be a bit of a stretch to imagine that Nintendo would approve of this idea, with their long history of recycling the basic plot of their beloved franchises, it would be nice to think that something like this could be done. It would breathe a bit of life into the series as a whole, because frankly, I'm getting sick of being told I have to save the world, I have to be the very best and I have to catch 'em all. What if I don't want to?

I have a bucketload of minor ideas that could also go into this post, but I feel I've typed enough already. What do you guys think? Comments? Critique? Batshit insane ramblings on how you absolutely hated Lt. Surge? (I know I did, smug git.) Fire away!

Update: Minor Ideas
So, here's some minor ideas that I think could be worked into my hypothetical Pokémon reboot, thrown in at the last minute.

• Take the "Version Exclusive" gimmick and expand it - for example, one game takes place in the north of the new continent, and the other takes place in the south, the player only able to access the other game's world after beating the Elite Four or something. Or, for laughs, version exclusive starters.
• The ability to groom your Pokémon before a contest - cleaner Pokémon are more likely to win bigger points.
• Using your Pokémon in the overworld could easily be expanded a bit more. For example, you could have a fetch-quest that involved using your Pokémon to track a scent, perhaps a kidnapped child. ("What's that, Zigzagoon? Timmy's stuck in a cave?")
• Have a trainer fight against a Mewtwo. Because that movie was awesome, no matter what Nostalgia Critic says.
• Bring back Ruby and Sapphire's Secret Bases, damnit!