Raviel the Phantom

Kyogre is the only Pokemon that I am afraid of. And seeing it about to chomp on Archie confirmed those fears. I would never go swimming in the Pokemon world for fear that thing is lurking in the depths.

Out of all the starters, if that IS their final evolutions, I am most disappointed in the fire starter. It looks too much like a Fire/Fighting type. I have heard it might be a Fire/Dark type, but it still looks like a fighter. Why couldn't it be like a big saber-tooth Pokemon.

As the detective passes through the front door, he is immediately struck with the thunderous roar of childish laughter. He forcefully presses his hands over his ears to muffle the noise. In that brief silence, he sees the buildings is flooded with both toys and kids. Boys and girls of ranging from two to ten appear to be running around in utter chaos. Many stuffed animals are strewn across the floor, while others are in the arms of the little ones. Watching the torrent of kids at play, Drake grimaces. Entering the toy store behind him is another officer. A few years older than the detective, she has an air of maturity around her. Long fiery red hair is tied back in a bun. Her fierce green eyes spy the look of repulsion on his face. “What?” he asks, noticing a sly smile. “Nothing,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “It’s just I’ve never really seen you rattled before.” “What do you mean by that?” “You have a look like you just stepped in something gross.” The detective jumps out of the way as a boy and girl run past him, “Kids are dirty little creatures that have a habit of making everything they touch sticky.” Pulling on his coat, he looks down to find that one of the children had left behind a piece of candy. He frowns and pulls the piece of colorful sugar from it. The red sweet is coated with black furs. “And this is exactly what I mean,” he groans, throwing the candy onto the floor. “Let’s find the owner and get out of here as soon as possible.” Starting to walk, he hears the policewoman say, “So, do you really think there is a lead here? I mean, the witness was pretty adamant about it.” “The guy seemed a bit of a loon to me,” Drake looks over his shoulder. “I doubt we’ll find anything here, but what kind of detective would I be to ignore our only lead?” Not too far into the toy store do they find the man they are looking for. Dressed in a brown, plaid suit, the balding gentleman turns in their direction when the footsteps grow louder. A middle-aged face with crow’s feet around a pair of auburn eyes look generously on the pair. The older man puts his hand against his protruding stomach, and smiles. “Well, hello there,” the man says, his mustache twitches every time he moves his lips. “I just got the call that the boys in blue would coming over to my humble toy shop.” “Yes, Mr. Sanely,” Drake shakes the owner’s hand. “I’m Detective Drake Holloway, and this is my colleague.” “Officer Lidia Manis,” she extends her hand, which is received by the shop owner. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” he says, keeping the friendly smile. “So what is it that you two need?” “Well,” Lidia opens her mouth, but struggles to find the right words. The detective steps in, “We would like to know more about your store’s mascot, Toymaker.” “What about the fella?” There is a wave of color that rises to Officer Manis’ cheeks, “One of our witnesses reported seeing your mascot fleeing the scene of a crime.” Hearing this, the warm smile cracks, spilling into a fit of laughter, “You cannot be serious right now.” “We are,” Drake remarks. “What?” Mr. Sanely breaks off from his guffaw, “You think my boy just decided to mosey out of my store to break the law? He may be a feat of engineering, but he can’t up and walk out of here.” “We are not suggesting anything like that,” the detective quickly corrects himself. “It is more likely that somebody is disguised in the same clothing as your Toymaker. If we could take a look at him, it would better suit our investigation.” “Well that makes a bit more sense,” the owner says, tugging on his coat. “I’ll take you to him. He’s out in the showroom.” Walking in between the two law enforcement officers, Mr. Sanely leads them to a location to the back of the store. Children flood around a small stage, clapping and laughing all the while. Dancing about the wooden platform is a robot that looks as if he no older than sixteen. He dresses like a circus ringmaster. A long coat and matching top hat are as white as snow with trim of deep purple. As the machine twirls, he stops and faces the detective. On the pale face there are a pair of black spades. Eyes open to showcase an eerie golden hew. The boy smiles. “Oh me, oh my,” Toymaker lets out a childish laugh. “What a sight to see. Have you come to watch little old me?” Drake leans in to the owner’s ear, “Is it able to recognize people.” “Facial recognition, full range of motion, and some other techno-junk,” Mr. Sanely whispers. Looking at the mechanical creation, he speaks aloud, “So, Toymaker, what are you doing?” “Dear Mr. Sanely, it is crystal clear. Judge by the children, the laughter you hear. I am Toymaker, a maker of toys, here to spread joy to all girls and boys.” “Thank you very much, Toymaker,” he gives the robot a smile. “Quite amusing,” the detective answers. “Although I could see why our witness was so adamant. The clothes are, well, unique.” “Mr. Sanely,” Lidia chimes in, “Is it possible to purchase a costume like the Toymaker?” “I don’t sell anything like that,” the man says. “Nor do I keep any spares. When his clothes start to wear, I order them from a tailor.” “May we get a number for that tailor?” “Certainly.” “Oh me, oh my, is that a badge I see,” Toymaker suddenly bounds towards them, yet staying on stage. “Are you here to arrest little old me?” “Not unless you did something wrong,” Drake jokes. “I do nothing wrong, as I said before. I am Toymaker, master of the store. I make the toys, it’s what I do. I also make children smile, and protect them too.”

Well what about the new Pokemon, Tsareena. She's got the hips that won't quit and legs that go all the way up.

In my opinion, a good starter is one that has good stats (500+), which is usually the norm for them. This is your first Pokemon in each game, the one you are meant to craft a bond with above them all. It is meant to stay with you through the game to the very end. I don't think I have ever gotten rid of my starter on my main team. The mere thought of that is tragic.

Unless a cooler dragon appears I think I'm putting jangmo-o on my team. I could see it being a psuedo actually, because it follows the trope of having a double weakness that most of them have. -Dragonite: Ice -Tyranitar: Fighting -Salamence: Ice -Garchomp: Ice -Hydregion: Fairy Jararanga: Fairy (Also the name reminds me of Durarara)

“Hey, kid, what do you think you’re doing here? Can’t you see this is a crime scene?” Sausage-sized fingers are held aloft to block a man in his early twenties from taking another step. The swelled digits belong to a portly policeman whose stomach stretches his blue uniform to the point that the buttons strain. The kid stands on the other side of police tape with his hands in the pocket of his black coat. Wind pulls at the red scarf about his neck, and ruffles his auburn hair. “Yeah, Chuck,” he smirks, “That one still makes me laugh.” The young adult lifts up the yellow ribbon and passes underneath. “So, where’s your chaperone, kid?” “No need for one,” the young man answers. “You are looking at the lead detective for this case.” “Oh, is that so?” Chuck smiles. “Guess our little Drake has grown up before our eyes.” He presents to wipe a tear from his eye. “I feel so proud…” Drake lets out a sarcastic laugh, “Funny, Chuck, you’re such a riot. Can you let me through?” “Sure thing, detective,” the portly policeman guffaws and slaps his stomach. Swinging out of the way, he lets the young man pass. Taking a deep breath, the young detective takes his first steps into his crime scene. A smile crosses his face as he looks around at the open park. The sun has just risen over the rolling hills, blanketing the cobble stones in a golden blanket. Off in the distance he catches the sound of trickling water, probably coming from the fountain. Before he takes another step, he turns back, “Chuck, you forgot to tell me what happened here.” “A jogger found the Jane Doe this morning. I think you’ll appreciate this one. She’s a real doll.” Slapping his belly enough to make it sway, the man roars with laughter from his own jest. While the cop continues his laughter, the detective merely rolls his eyes. He leaves the policeman to his merrymaking. Walking a hundred yards into the park he finds a pair of medical examiners busy taking pictures of the body. As he gets closer, Drake sees that the Jane Doe has a face as if it were made out of porcelain. Golden locks of hair are spun into childish pigtails. Full red lips appear strikingly against her near white flesh despite most likely being blue underneath. Soft blush cheeks and dark lashes accent her emerald eyes, which sparkle like the jewels they mimic. Hugging her body is a sparkling blue dress that is fit for a princess and a pair of matching high heels. “Oh, wow, she really does look like a doll,” Drake admits, standing beside the body. Hearing the remark, one of the examiners takes her attention away from the camera, “Oh, detective, it’s good that you’re here.” “Thanks,” he answers, turns in her direction and recognizes the woman “Miss Miller, I didn’t realize you would be conducting the examination.” “Yes I am,” she answers in a pleasant tone. “And please, call me Casey.” “So, what do you got for me then, Casey?” “Nothing yet,” she looks at the body. “There was no identification on her. The killer must’ve taken it.” “Cause of death?” “Nothing that jumps out,” she explains. “Do you have anything that can explain this?” he points to the doll-dressed corpse. “Look, detective,” she says calmly, taking off her glasses, “I know that it’s your first case, but you know better to ask all of these questions. I will find out more once I conduct a proper autopsy.” His face becomes flushed, “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I’m a little on edge.” “It’s okay, Drake,” she reassures him, “Just—” “Hey kid!” Chuck shouts, waddling toward them. “What’s up, Chuck?” “We got a guy who claims he might have witnessed the killer fleeing the scene,” the cop wheezes. “What?” Drake sounds surprised. “What did he say?” “You won’t believe who he says did it.” Drake and Casey glance at one another before speaking in unison, “Who is it?” “Toymaker.”

I heard rumors that the final evolution forms will depend on sun and moon, along with typing.