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STAB2: Round One
Please scroll all the way down to the description before you read. There you will find the rights and links to all of the cameos I placed here, along with links to some shit-doodle comics.
Dereis stepped off the boat onto the Holon docks, Nostradamus right behind him. Once he got out of the crowd's way Dereis looked to Holon town, and petted Nostradamus on his fuzzy head. “This is it, Noss, our stage, our battle ground.” The giant Bibarel looked to his trainer and let out a confused “Buuur?” Dereis narrowed his brow and looked his pokemon in the eye. “Where I have my pokemon beat up other pokemon.” Nostradamus made a gurgle of understanding. “Welp, better find out who we're up against!” Dereis climbed up onto Nostradamus's back, and smacked him lightly on his side. “Mush!” Nostradamus let out a rodent whinny, and ran into Holo City proper.
Even with the streets made larger during the rebuilding t
"Oh wow Dereis, I knew you told me you had a new look, but I didn't expect it to be this retarded."
"Stuff it in your hoodie," Dereis retorted. Dereis had called Reth to meet her at the Castelia City port. She looked the same as when he had left for the first STAB Tournament half a year ago. Black jeans, black hoodie, black nail polish, black black black. She said she had to come down from northern Unova, which went she walked through the freaking desert in all that black. Dereis on the other hand-
"Since when do you wear tropical shirts?" Reth asked, "or sandals?" Dereis scowled at her and adjusted his bucket hat.
"Ever since I went to an island and lived constantly over heated. In the later part of the year." Dereis explained.
"Yeah," Reth said, "but you aren't on an island."
"Yes, but there's a desert just north of here," Dereis said, "and how was walking through that in all that black?" Reth shrugged.
"Eh, coulda been worse, least I was covered up from the blowing sand, how was tha
STAB2: Dereis the Destroyer
Name: Dereis "the Destoryer" Walson: (self proclaimed) Holder of the Bronze Medal.
(For writers only) Appearence: Unlike the first tournament, Dereis is prepared for the island weather. Replacing his pub cap is a green cotton bucket hat with a chincord that he only removes in the privacy of his own room. Instead of a green tee shit and black coat he now wears a white shirt under a tropical button shit that has a cyan base color. Wears cargo shorts the same color green as his had, and a pair of brown strap-held sandals. Still has his transition glasses, and still insists on wearing his blue poketech despite it not working due to Holon's magnetic field. On this left hand is a leather bird keeping glove that reaches two thirds up to his elbow. Around his neck he proudly wears the bronze medal that wasn't actually awarded to him, but in fact he had made. Since he's no longer wearing his jacket Dereis's pokeball clip is worn on the left front side of his tropical shirt.
UNFINISHED STAB: Round Six SpectatorDereis's mood was melancholy as he road out of the ruins. He lost. Shit. How can a rain cloud even happen indoors. Really! He looked at the pokeballs in his clip, he was going to need to heal them. They had the losers do stuff around the island, right? Might as well, has nothing else to do but build guardsman. "Take us back Nos," he ordered his Bibarel. Nostradamus rose to his hind legs, fell, and waddled off into the distance. Nothing else to do but call that bitch and tell her that he lost.
Wait, no. There was a alarm coming from the city. Dereis yelled, "MUSH," and Nostradamus sped up into the town. He looked around at the havoc, and couldn't help but stare at the sky. Shouldn't be able to see the moon this clearly at this time of day. He saw a familiar face, the Luthor boy that took orders from his talking pokemon. He got Nostradamus to stop. "You!"
"wha-huh!?" he spun around at the person yelling at him from behind.
"What's going on here?" Dereis asked. Luthor pointed to the sky.
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
to crumble up
the remnant pieces
of my love for you
and throw them in the trash
but I'm such a bad shot.
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