The CELESTIC Team (PLOT)

Keep it talking...The life of his lady was staked on how long he could keep this feathered reaper distracted. Oh cruelest of ironies that he was lucky in this regard. The night-feathered bird still wished to talk.
"I wasn't aware I was among royalty, Your Highness. I, dear Prince, am only known as Honchkrow. Should be rather easy for your busy royal mind to remember, yes?" The bird chuckles as it completes a low bow of considerable grace for a thing long dead.
The title seems to turn to ashes on the birds pointed tongue. Not too long ago Paris had been proud of that title; the testament of generations of careful breeding. Now it was obviously nothing more than a human whimsy. If he really was a prince he would not be here, facing certain death for a pokemon he had just met and the love of his life who had said barely a word to him. Perhaps sensing his thoughts of inadequacy the bird's bubbling laughter grows louder.
"Though, if Your Majesty minds, I do have to wonder..." With a lazy flick of its wings it flaps up to a higher perch on the nearby house. is it really that fantastic of an idea for you and your friends to split up? It might be pompous of me, but I am a sort of expert on the subject-- it's been my experience that particular course of action only gets you and your friends killed quicker. After all, safety in numbers, yes?
With a condescending shake of its head it clicks its tongue disapprovingly.
"I thought a royal would know better, Majesty."
"Broadly you would be correct Honchkrow." The little bug type says carefully. It is a fine line he walks, trying to provided enough conversation to keep the bird's interest without angering it.
"But we are little insects. Clustering together only has advantage if we can defeat the foe does it not? Otherwise it simply allows some greater predator to swallow us up in one gulp. Do you honestly feel one such as yourself would be deterred if we stood united against you, weary and frightened as we are?" He waves a claw at his small insect body.
""It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

"Broadly you would be correct Honchkrow," the terrified little bug began. Honchkrow enjoyed watching the little prince attempt to keep his composure beneath his stare; it was something he had come to miss now that his children had effectively wiped out most of the population. The crow quirked his head in surprisingly genuine interest, though, at the paras' steady rebuttal."But we are little insects. Clustering together only has advantage if we can defeat the foe does it not? Otherwise it simply allows some greater predator to swallow us up in one gulp. Do you honestly feel one such as yourself would be deterred if we stood united against you, weary and frightened as we are?" Honchkrow couldn't help but to allow a small chuckle escape him; he had been so used to bravado, hubris and outright stupidity from others attempting to keep their lives from him for so long, it was almost refreshing to see honest-to-Legends cowardice.

"It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

Another low, smooth laugh escaped him; what a charming little prawn he'd stumbled across! "While I find it absolutely charming that you have no delusions about your own or your friends' powers to defend, I still find it a bit of conundrum that you seek to protect them, even now." He flexed his wings, keeping his balance as he readjusted his grip on his perch. "How can anyone protect anything when they're a self-proclaimed coward? The whole point of being a coward, dear Prince, is to save your own hide at the cost of everyone else's. So in a way, you are arrogant enough to think that this small lovely stall is enough to save at least one of them. Or... perhaps...?" His gaze narrowed and his beak seemed to curl into a malicious, terrifying grin.

"...by sending them away, my Prince, you've cast them into my colleague's territory. And while I have no particular interest in killing any of you, I can assure you my colleague likely does not share my merciful nature. So..." He opened his wings and dropped gracefully back down in front of Paris, towering over the mushroom-burdened creature, grin still firmly in place. "...either you are conceited enough to think your martyrdom can actually mean anything and that you lied to me earlier with your pretty words, or you truly are what you claim and you sent all your pals away to take the safest spot for yourself." He chuckled, still staring down with his glowing crimson glare.

"So which is it, Prince? Are you a pompous ass... or a true coward?"

Leaving the paras to his decision for a moment, Honchkrow backed away a few strides, allowing himself a turn of the town. However, he stopped cold in his tracks as he finally spotted the entire reason he'd landed in the first place; there, in the mist and fog, stood one of his own. One of his children. Xatu.

He hadn't heard his name spoken, for his own loquaciousness had overpowered the force of Xatu's soft voiced recognition. Honchkrow, oblivious to any subtleties Xatu exuded. strode forward in a grand display, welcoming his psychic compatriot with opened wings. "Xatu! How long it's been, my dear Harbinger," he crooned, candidly relieved to finally lay eyes on one of his rare and elusive Harbingers. "You would not believe how difficult it is to track your siblings."

The pulsing in his head suddenly returned without warning, a dangerous pulsing vein deep within the Harbinger's dead brain. Stumbling, his claws left grooves in the dirt as the avian fought to keep himself standing. Hearing a voice, not the familiar one of the oily feathered Honchkrow, but another. Someone else was talking. Something had interrupted him. Another violent spasm wracked through his mind and Xatu let out a hiss through his beak, screwing his eyes shut against the mental onslaught. What is this...?! There is... no warning?! Why... what is wrong with me?!

"It may not be honorable but it is our nature to fight no unnecessary battles."

The voice cut through his mental screaming, ripping apart his thoughts, but even as the Paras spoke the Harbinger was fighting the stream of things he could not explain. Suddenly the same image of the female Altaria ran through him, seared into his eyes. The Harbinger groaned with the effort to keep standing, the psychic's mind taking over his body as the two parts of him waged a war inside. Then he saw a trio of children, Swablu chicks, hopping around. They stared up at him with loving eyes before the scene changed.

"So which is it, Prince? Are you a pompous ass... or a true coward?"

Honchkrow's voice once more cut through his mind as the scene rapidly switched to that of blood, the chicks screaming in agony as they were shot, crushed beneath hunters' boots, and rare cotton feathers ripped off. Their bodies left as nothing but bloody, mangled corpses, Xatu heard a scream build through him, but it was one from the vision. The Altaria was suddenly at his feet as well, the once beautiful dragoness pillaged worse than the children. She lay dead before him as humans suddenly swarmed the Xatu.

The Paras noticed him first in reality, the small bug realising too late he was doomed as the Harbinger's crimson eyes were circles with madness. In a last ditch effort, the small mushroom creature resorted to it's usual defense mechanism, a flurry of spores surrounding it's body in the cool night air. But Xatu's eyes flickered from the growing cloud to the bug, his body reacting before his shattering mind could. Dipping his head, he spotted something rare, several meters from them: matches. Lifting his beak again, he met the terrified eyes of the Paras, whom had never even been able to reply to the Lord of the Dead's inquiry, and with a flick of his wing, a single small stick flew through the air to before the Harbinger. Without breaking eye contact, Xatu's eyes flashed again, a fire spouting from the top of the match as if magic. By then, the Paras knew where it was going, and the weak creature dropped to ll fours, scrambling to flee, but Xatu sent the spark towards it with no pace. The bug's screams were feral and primal as they ripped through the air, but the Harbinger did not flinch. His eyes turned to Honchkrow as the black crow seemed to have finally realised his kin was there.

In the mere seconds it took Honchkrow to bound forward joyfully, the spores of the mushroom's caught and fed the growing inferno with blinding speed. In a matter of seconds, the fire died out, leaving a charred exoskeleton.

"Xatu!"
Flinching at the loud, joyous use of his name, the Harbinger's eyes went blank. Devoid of anger or pain, the thought that came to his mind was foreign: Is that truly my name?

"How long it's been..."
The larger bird's words were slurred, moving as molasses through the psychic's mind. Breaking the eye contact, Xatu ducked his head suddenly, flaring his wings out as he stumbled again. This pressure....?! His eyes screwed shut, causing the Harbinger to clench his beak in an effort not to scream.

"My dear Harbinger."
Every new word Honchkrow said grew into needles, fiery stabbing knives in Xatu's head. His mind trying to warn him, tell him, but the crossfire would not cease enough to stop the agony.

"You would not believe..."
Xatu fell to his knees, covering his ears with his wings. The sound inside of his ears was growing, the ringing a violent roaring deep within the confines of his head.

"How difficult it is to track... "
MAKE IT STOP-

"Your siblings."
SHUT UP-

Flaring his wings open, psychic waves flashed from the Harbinger's wings. Nullified by Honckhrow's natural resistance, the powerful waves instead ripped through the remainder of the town. Buildings groaned and screamed as they suddenly fell, smashing to the ground in splintered ruins. Any Pokemon foolish enough to be nearby would be crushed beneath, nothing but smears of blood.

...
.............then all at once... silence.

Xatu's eyes snapped open, clarity running through him like ice in his once alive veins. Panting, the Harbinger slowly pushed himself to his feet, dragging his wing tips on the ground. "No." The single, short word was abrupt, but strong. Rising his eyes, there was a fire within them as he stared at the one he once worshiped. "No, Honchkrow. I am not one of your pets. I refuse to listen to you any more- you call yourself our master, but you have abandoned us. You have left us to rot. We are your Harbingers, but you treat us like children. You're not my father, you don't deserve to by my master," he sneered. "I've outgrown you."

"I remember. I can see flashes of before. We weren't always like this before. We never had a choice- no one ever gave us a chance."

"But I don't have to be like you. I don't have to be a dead God watching the world burn-- I have seen beauty, I had it. Once upon a time I was a normal, just Pokemon."

"I have a choice," Xatu hissed, unwavering eyes not leaving the shocked orbs of Honchkrow's own. Without warning, Xatu's entire body suddenly glowed maroon, his eyes balls of light as he pulled upon the oldest and most powerful technique of his species. Slashing his wings through the air, the scrawny avian shot forward, vanishing into a shining cut through space and time. For several seconds he floated aimlessly through the Not Here, before ripping another hole in reality.

Shooting through the second hole, he found himself above Celestic. Glancing down, Xatu could see the still whole group of bugs, even watch Honchkrow making his way to greet them, and as his head snapped up, in the distance, he could see the shape of him from ten minutes ago. Taking a deep breathe, the time traveler retreated, his next destination unknown to even him.

I have renounced Honchkrow. Only time will tell if that brings me true death or not... Glancing back one last time, he shot away, fleeing through time itself.

All that matters is undoing what he has wrought upon the world...

In the fog, Honchkrow had not seen his Harbinger flinch or wince; the thick cloak served its purpose to hide his Harbinger's pain. But as he strode forward to greet his child, the bird stood rigid and in a flash, a massive psychic attack erupted from Xatu. The buildings nearby that desperately clung to rickety foundations and walls were demolished. The small insects that had been so careful were all torn and shredded with the exception of the little Paras, whose burnt corpse had been spared; he had been deposited behind Honchkrow's generous wingspan. Honchkrow himself stood easily against it, as no psychic attack could ever hope to touch him, but he stopped all the same; no Harbinger had ever attempted him harm. Frozen, alarmed, he watched carefully as Xatu regained his composure.

"No." Xatu's eyes snapped open and met Honchkrow's own shocked gaze, an icy fire to them. The Father Harbinger knew that look, however-- that familiar expression that now possessed his child, his worshipper.

Defiance.

"No, Honchkrow. I am not one of your pets. I refuse to listen to you any more- you call yourself our master, but you have abandoned us. You have left us to rot. We are your Harbingers, but you treat us like children. You're not my father, you don't deserve to by my master," Xatu sneered hatefully. Honchkrow, in a rare moment of silence, only stood to listen to his traitorous son's childish tantrum, his wings now folded. "I've outgrown you."

"Watch your tongue, Boy, I might take it..." Honchkrow warned in a low, uncharacteristic growl, but Xatu was not deterred.

"I remember. I can see flashes of before. We weren't always like this before. We never had a choice- no one ever gave us a chance.

"But I don't have to be like you. I don't have to be a dead God watching the world burn-- I have seen beauty, I had it. Once upon a time I was a normal, just Pokemon.

"I have a choice," Xatu ended, the two birds glaring at each other with such fury, such rage, it was enough to cause the fog around them to dissipate. Xatu immediately glowed a deep maroon, but Honchkrow made no move to stop him. This was not an attack. Even if it was, nothing Xatu had in his reservoir of attacks would even hope to harm Honchkrow. No. This was different. With cold, hateful calculation, Honchkrow merely watched in silent wrath as Xatu sliced the very fabric of time and space and disappeared within.

And like that, his Harbinger had left him.

The coward...

The despicable... COWARD...

His feathers ruffled, he turned to the only thing nearby, Paris' charred exoskeleton. "How fitting, isn't it dear Prince, that we were just on the subject of cowardice?" Honchkrow growled, the playfulness in his tone effectively gone from his normally coy voice. He took a few steps forward, better examining the damage wrought by Xatu's tantrum. "The selfish little git you just met was one of my finer Harbingers. One of my best. But now, he wants to renounce that title. That gift. His immortality-- why? What for, his memories?" He began pacing, the clouds above churning and fermenting into a poisonous purple. Thunder rumbled and snarled, but Honchkrow paid it no mind; he was occupied on something far more important than the weather.

Xatu's words echoed in his mind, mocking him. Taunting him. He was accused of abandoning them-- he was trying to locate them. They were so scattered... It took so long just to find Xatu. How could he have known there was so much discourse...? How could he have known? Were there other Harbingers on the brink of treason? Honchkrow dismissed the thought, but the fear had already rooted itself deep within his mind. He was losing his control; it seemed he had been for quite some time now. And that wasn't tolerable. This treachery, this rebellion needed to be silenced as soon as possible. Glaring up at the darkened sky, his Shadow Sky, his sharp mind raced for a solution, any solution to the mess he'd stumbled across. The thunder rumbled again, as if suggesting its own opinion, when an idea dawned upon him.

A grin pulled at his face, his demeanor simmering back down to something a little more civilized. He wouldn't throw a tantrum like his son. No, he was far more mature than that. "Dear Prince, did you hear what he said?" he chortled dangerously, his voice still low with the cold wrath his Xatu had incurred. "He'd outgrown me. And yet he preaches of old memories, of beauty and choices. Of life. The festering little hypocrite doesn't even realize all his hopes and dreams are that of children!" He barked a hateful laugh, to which the thunder above echoed solemnly.

He turned, nearly prancing back to Paris' already crumbling corpse. "He has a 'choice', Prince. Did you hear that? HA! What does he honestly think he will accomplish? His body has already perished; he's beyond any saving, even if there were a cure to administer. To what hope is he clinging? That maybe he can regain his old life back? Preposterous! We are dead, all of us. We as a whole are naught but shadows and dust, Paris, and yet here we are. We Harbingers were given something more tangible of an existence-- to never crumble away like our lesser brethren. To reign immortal over this world, to claim it as ours, and he wants to crawl back to the useless rotting meatsack he once was!" Honchkrow's hate burned, but only a wrathful chuckled emerged.

"He forgets so much. I did not force him into this role. His capturer is responsible for that. I did not rip him from his apparently ambrosial life. Humans did that. Humans injected him and poisoned him and wrought all that horror upon him-- NOT I. I freed him. I murdered our captors and FREED him and his siblings. I guided them out, I led them and unleashed them upon the world to take back what we had lost. And yet he blames me for what the humans had committed? Stupid, forgetful boy!"

He opened his wings as he still glared upward at his completed Shadow Sky, which began to weep its dark rain. A power built around his wings which he held steady, even as it built more and more. "He said he had a choice, dear Prince. And he's very correct. He does certainly have a choice, and it seems he's already made it. Well, what sort of leader would I be if I were to simply ignore him? I will respect his choice, and he will respect the consequences of that choice. He chooses to deny me and renounce his title as Harbinger, renounce who and what he is, well... I'll be more than happy to take that title back." With the power brimming around his body, he flapped hard, unleashing it upon the town. Twin twisters erupted from the sky, the funnels already snaking their way downward. Honchkrow easily took wing with their force, sailing up and over the complete annihilation of Celestic Town. His Shadow Storm attack was merciless, obliterating nearly all evidence that a town -much less pokemon- had even been there; only a few scattered beams from the houses and the cave remained.

He soared, pleased, over the destruction. Xatu may have denied him, but he would not be so heartless for Xatu. If Xatu didn't want to hold onto his gift, Honchkrow would relieve him of it, along with everything else that belonged to him. Resolute and confident, Honchkrow soared toward the set sun, his moon illuminating the way. He would find Xatu. And he would destroy him.