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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 11:58:08 GMT -5
Here's a fic I have out on www.ficwad.com under the pename IWCT (If Walls Could Talk). My bio for those of you who want to know what else I've done other than pokemon fanfiction: www.ficwad.com/viewuser.php?uid=1578 (This is also up on Delmara. If you've read it there you can ignore this thread to your heart's desire.) Just a story of six trainers from Pallet Town and what they do with their lives in a changing pokemon world. Chapter One: The Misleading IntroductionA girl holding a small plastic brown animal held in her hands was running through the grass. The word grass was misleading, there were more rocks sticking out of the ground than there was vegetation, at least that’s how it seemed to her bare feet. Not that she minded. The rocks were smooth and worn from wind and rain, they were mainly long stretches of bedrock thrusting up through the shallow soil with the occasional boulder or two scattered between them. Also, what grass there was on those rolling rock fields was cropped short by the mouths of hungry herbivores, mostly to make room for moss, and thickets of ferns. The grass mainly appeared in the little paths that had been forged through the feather like greenery. So, the girl was not running through grass as much as she was running through thickets of ferns, containing the occasional thistle, and on top of moss covered bedrock. Running was another misleading word. The girl did run in certain places, but her pace would have been better described overall as a series of nimble leaps and jumps, interspersed with periods of half running half jogging. She jumped from piece of rock, to piece of rock, trying to avoid the dung of animals that had passed through the pasture before her. While small brown plastic animal was an accurate description, it needs to be elaborated upon. It was made of plastic, painted a rich brown, and it was just the right size and shape to fit comfortably into her hand, but there was more to the figurine than just these physical components. To begin with, the statuette was of an eevee. Eevee were fairly rare pokemon, and generally considered cute. However the girl had not woken up that day and picked her good luck charm on that basis. She had several plastic statues of rarer and, at least in her opinion, cuter pokemon. However, the eevee was the only one who would fit in her hand easily. Had she been looking for rare and cute she probably would have chosen her articuno figurine. However, there was too much of a chance that one of the glorious strips of plastic that made up the tail feathers would get damaged somehow. Now the reader knows that the girl was jogging and jumping over rocky ground through thickets of ferns and thistles holding a small eevee statue for good luck. While it probably would have been easier to just say that, the sentence “a girl holding a small plastic brown animal held in her hands was running through the grass” is generally the poetically acceptable term for the start of fan fictions such as these. By now it has probably been guessed that she was running late to her appointment to get her first pokemon, since that is also one of the conventions of poetics. Again, this statement is misleading. The girl does think that she is running late, but she only thinks that she is running late because she is the kind of person who thinks that she is running late to everything and ends up arriving half an hour early. Focusing on the girl, one would expect that her name is at least three syllables long and can be shortened to a preppy, cool nickname, like Kipper. This is not the case, her name is three syllables, but her nickname is anything but preppy and cool. The girl’s name is Melamine, and the kids in her class either call her “The Girl,” or “Wash Pot.” One would also expect long hair streaming in the wind. Well, it is hard for hair, long or not, to stream in a wind if the weather is not windy. Wash Pot’s hair did manage to bounce a little as she leapt from boulder to boulder. Perhaps the brown strings did wave a bit, due to the laws of physics. However, they did not stream. The Girl’s hair was of the type known as “fine.” It fell limply off her head and onto her shoulders, making the poor ten year old look as if she had just come out of the rain. Today someone had obviously tried to do something to the limp strands, and gathered the hair into a ponyta-tail. As a consequence, the girl’s face is revealed to be plain. She is not ugly, just plain. Even her eyes are unremarkable. While other authors will gush about girls with cerulean eyes which turn green/yellow/red when the character is angry, this author merely has given this character a simple color. Wash Pot’s eyes are blue and there is nothing special about them or her. The only thing that sets her apart from any other girl her age is the slight clenching of the jaw, and a glare permanently etched onto the face. Cresting the top of a large rock she looked at a field of waving grass. The field dipped down to form a valley. The land swooped up again, far into the distance, creating a soft hill. On that hill a white building sat gleaming in the sun. Melamine stood on the rock, admiring the view and fingering the small eevee nervously. “Okay, I can do this,” she whispered to the small plastic animal. “I will make it through the league. I won’t drop out, and I won’t fail!” She set off across the field. Under normal circumstances she would have been a bit leery of running across this field, but the possibility that she might be late was firmly lodged in her mind. She didn’t want to be late. Being late was something that The Girl would do. How she despised that nickname. She had been going to pokeschool with the other trainers-to-be that year. Before she had been home schooled. So upon entering the lab on the first day she was the only one who had made no friends, and only knew the other five children by sight, and in one case, reputation. She was also the only girl of her year. That was how she had landed the nickname, The Girl. It was her parents’ fault for giving her a name that Professor Oak had a hard time remembering. When he had called on her he had always said: “Err, yes, you – the girl, what are the three legends of Kanto?” It had been Chris’ idea to call her Wash Pot. He thought that it went with her hair. Melamine didn’t mind Wash Pot as much. It was now practically a term of endearment. Plus, Chris had made it up, and even though he was a nasty snot sometimes, he had been the first one to try to befriend her. The others soon followed. They weren’t the best of friends. Adam was the only one she was really close to, Chris was far too mercurial for Melamine’s comfort, Matt was grumpy and didn’t talk much, Scott was bossy, and Alex was – Alex. Out of all her classmates Wash Pot disliked him the most. He was always snotty and prideful. What was worse was that he was, in a way, entitled to that attitude. Alex came from a rich family, and he was two years older than everyone else, except for Adam. He knew everything there was to know about pokemon, including stat ratios, which Wash Pot had yet to memorize. As luck turned out, Wash Pot was half an hour early. The only other person waiting calmly before the lab door was Alex. It was just her luck. He sniffed at her breathless entrance. “You aren’t supposed to cut across the pokemon field,” he pointed out, his voice completely neutral, his cold green gaze directed at seven inches to the left of Melamine’s head. Wash Pot fingered the eevee, trying to draw courage from the smooth surface. “Well, good morning to you, too. I was right by the fence, and nothing happened to me, so it doesn’t matter,” she answered. “Humph,” the derisive snort was calculated to say more about how imbecilic Melamine was than a thesaurus ever could. They stood in silence for a while before Melamine decided that her back pack was too heavy. She took it off and walked over to the side of the lab. She could already see a black canvas bag there. Obviously Alex was continuing with his decided theme. Melamine did not see anything wrong with the color black in moderation, but Alex constantly wore black. Black t-shirt, black jeans, black shoes, and she would have liked to bet black socks. She supposed that it was supposed to coordinate with his black hair, but it left his tan skin looking pale and sickly. Of course, Wash Pot had yet to discover the world of romance. To her the black was just a strange fashion statement, to the girls who were closer to Alex’s age black was very attractive. “Hoi, I see Wash Pot and the Vampire have arrived at least,” Chris bounced up to the duo. He dropped his bag to the ground and stretched. He was dusty from having come over the road, but at least he wasn’t panting from a run over the fields. Wash Pot smiled, and nodded. Alex glanced at him coolly. “We still have twenty minutes to wait,” Alex said, as if he thought it was incredibly bad form for Chris to show up early. “Cool,” was Chris’ grinned reply. “We can get to know each other better, then. What starters do you think Oak is going to offer this year?” “Well, he has to have the three Kanto traditionals,” Melamine answered, “but that still leaves three out in the open.” “Pidgey will probably be one of them,” Chris said confidently. “It’s a little common, but all of the starters have to have three evolutions. The only other three evolutions I can think of are either already represented by type, or way too rare for beginning trainers.” Wash Pot nodded, he had a point. She began to list all of the three evolutions that she could remember from Kanto. She was not all that enthusiastic about any of the traditional starters. Bulbasaur was what people would expect that she take, but Wash Pot didn’t really want a pokemon that slow. She liked fast pokemon, with strong attacks. Squirtle were too average for her taste, and far too reliant on defense. That only left charmander. However the little fire lizards, while cute, were generally willful when they evolved. She wanted a pokemon who could think for itself, but not completely ignore her. “Oddish, dratini, pidgey, pichu, oh, the nidorans, caterpie, weedle, abra, machop, gastly, geodude, poliwag, cleffa, igglybuff, and bellsprout. I think that’s the lot,” Wash Pot said. “Bulbasaur means that oddish, and bellsprout won’t be available,” Chris replied, going through the list, “poliwag’s also out, because of squirtle. Dratini and cleffa are far too rare.” “Pichu’s a shoe in,” Alex commented, even though he was leaning against the side of the lab and staring into the field. Chris looked at him and shrugged. He knelt in the dirt, drawing figures in it. “If he follows the canceling out pattern with pichu then – nidoran male, which evolves into nidoking being part ground and all that, and abra being a psychic would be the two other choices.” “But what counteracts abra?” The Girl asked. “Oh don’t be such a downer, Wash Pot,” Chris commanded. “Life can’t be all about logic.” “The Girl’s beat you again at the logic game, huh?” Scott drawled, leaning on the fence. Both Chris and Wash Pot jumped and turned to see the latest arrival. Scott was dusty from the road, and had let his back pack drop to the ground before leaning on the fence that separated the field and the road. Matt stood next to him, looking bored. However, an expression of either boredom or anger was generally his facial default, much like contempt was part of Alex’s expression. It wasn’t surprising that Matt and Scott had shown up together. He and Scott lived next door to each other. They did look disturbingly like brothers, although almost everyone in Pallet looked alike. Tanned skin and hair of varying shades of brown was the basic look around town. Occasionally there was a genetic anomaly, like Melamine’s little sister Catherine, who was black haired with pale white skin that sunburned easily. However, for the most part, excluding people who had moved there, like Alex and Adam, there was a uniform code to being someone from pallet. “So, which ones are you all thinking of taking?” Melamine said into the silence stretching between everyone. “Oh, definitely the nidoran,” Chris said enthusiastically. “Poison is the coolest type around. You don’t get moves like toxic and sludge bomb just anywhere, you know.” Melamine was about to point out that nidoran no matter what stage of evolution, couldn’t learn these moves. However, Scott beat her to pointing out flaws in Chris’ theory. “And if a psychic pokemon shows up?” Scott challenged. “Personally, I’d want the abra. You need reliable and dependable partners for your starters.” “Oh yes, because teleporting freaks are sooooo reliable,” Chris rolled his eyes. He felt a little excited because his foster mother didn’t approve of eye rolling in the house. Eye rolling was a sign that he had finally become mature and outside his parents’ control. He couldn’t wait until after they got their pokemon. He was going to challenge Scott and show the bossy little snot who was boss. “I am taking the charmander,” Alex said quietly, but it was the kind of quiet which just grabbed everyone and said, listen. Matt was quiet on the subject, but he wasn’t very talkative. Melamine knew that all they were likely to hear out of him that day was: “I choose you.” She looked up the road for Adam, fingering her little eevee. She wasn’t certain, but perhaps the pichu wouldn’t be too bad a pokemon to have. Raichu were a little silly, but it was better than venasaur. Finally, at five minutes to eight, Professor Oak was seen trudging up the hill. He was muttering as he searched in his pockets for his keys. He glanced up, noting that all of his students, bar one, were there already. Oh well, Adam had five minutes to get to the lab before he would be completely late. “I see you are all here and excited to pick your pokemon,” the professor smiled at the children as they dutifully bowed their heads in approved Kantoan politeness. “Yes sir,” they chorused. “Well, alright. Since this is such a large class this year we have several options beyond the normal starters,” Professor Oak opened the door and walked into his lab. The children followed, their minds completely engaged by what he was saying. They had gone to school here every day and the shiny machines and odd pieces of equipment no longer held much fascination for them. “Now, this year, as in other years you are going to go into the enclosure and meet the pokemon first hand before deciding which pokemon you want, or in some cases, which pokemon wants you,” Professor Oak said with a light hearted laugh. He led them to a door that was normally locked. He looked at the key ring in his hand, trying to decide which strip of metal was needed for this door went a breathless voice broke the silence. “Wait! Sorry I’m late, I overslept! It’s my older brother’s fault!” Adam came skidding up to the group. Like Alex he was almost two years older than everyone there. Unlike Alex though, he acted like he was two year younger than everyone. His close cropped black hair was standing on end from having been squashed to his pillow only minutes ago, and he was wearing a horrible test pattern of electric yellow and neon orange. He was laughing guiltily and apologizing by turns, as Chris and Scott kidded him good naturedly, and Matt just looked bored. Melamine watched it all with the detached air of an outsider. This was just like when she had joined a local music program. She had been the only girl playing the trombone. The month after she quit it because she couldn’t take being the only one who didn’t know what the rest were talking about when the subject of arcade games came up, seven girls joined the trombone section. Being late was the trainers’ version of arcade games, and so Wash Pot just stayed to the side and listened Finally Professor Oak got the boys to calm down, and he unlocked the wooden door. It led, surprisingly enough, into a structure that was something like a green house and an aquarium combined. At one end there was a shallow pool, while at the end closest to the lab there was a miniature forest of plants on trestle tables. “Now children,” Professor Oak said, after the kids got used to the steamy heat of the small side building, “this is where we keep the starters for every years’ batch of new trainers. This year there are three extra pokemon. Pichu,” Alex looked smug as the professor said this, “abra, and zubat. Squirtle, bulbasaur, and charmander are also available. You should be able to find all six if you look. I’m going to give you all fifteen minutes to get acquainted.”
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 11:58:51 GMT -5
Chapter Two: Rocks Got Plate Armor!
Wash Pot walked calmly in, the only one to do so besides Alex. He obviously was in no rush because he had already chosen his pokemon in his mind, and he knew no one would take it. Wash Pot just figured she’d take whatever pokemon was left over. Any pokemon that was left over would be like her, the only one of the group not quite interesting enough. On this logic she thought a good friendship could be built.
She aimlessly walked, watching as the boys tried to find the elusive pokemon. Matt was scanning underneath the potted plants. The trestle tables were deep, and they could be hiding all of the pokemon for all the children knew.
Scott, who was hunting around the lake, gave a cry of delight as he found the promised abra. The cry must have startled the pokemon in its sleep, since it teleported away in a flash of blue tinged white. There was another bright flash, and the abra appeared on Chris’s head. It was apparently still asleep.
Wash Pot laughed as Chris danced around, trying to get it off. It only came off any time Scott went near or Chris tried to give the tan beast to anyone else. The abra would teleport away from Chris long enough for Scott to chase after it, before landing back on Chris’ head again.
“Match made in heaven, huh?” Adam commented, coming behind Melamine. “Hey, you found one yet?”
“No, but I haven’t been looking very hard,” Wash Pot admitted, still watching Chris who was moaning about how he wanted the zubat.
“Matt’s found the bulbasaur,” Adam jerked his thumb off to the side where the saurian grass pokemon was glaring at Matt, and Matt was returning the glare with one of his own.
There was a rustling in the branches and a screech as the abra toppled out dislodging the zubat. The abra teleported back to Chris, who it seemed firmly attached to, leaving the zubat to cheep angrily in its high pitched voice. The little flying type was obviously unhappy about having to deal with the psychic who had woken it up before sundown.
It tried to flutter back to its branch as Scott tried to dive for the teleporting pokemon, and missed. His tanned arms wrapped firmly around the tiny bat pokemon, who vainly tried to struggle away and bite the boy with its under developed fangs.
“Idiots,” Alex commented, walking back, the promised charmander cradled in the crook of his arm. “Don’t they remember that once a psychic chooses someone they are bound for life?”
“Well, you’ve obviously made your choice,” Adam said, somehow making the sentence sound like an insult.
“She chose me. However, I knew she would,” Alex said with confidence. “You better get going or even The Girl will find a pokemon, leaving you with the leftovers. If you’re lucky, you might get the attention of the squirtle.”
“Nah,” Adam replied coolly, sounding his age for once. “When I beat you I want to beat you because I’m the better strategist, not because of a type advantage.”
“Type advantage is a strategy, fool, and even if you did take the squirtle you’d end up the loser. You’re a pathetic battler,” Alex was the same height as Adam, but his tone of voice was calculated to make the black haired boy seem much smaller and more insect like.
“Hey,” Wash Pot glared, standing up for her friend before Adam could speak. “None of us have battled yet. For all you know he could trump you in battle.”
Alex blinked, looking surprised that The Girl had addressed him in such a tone. He had thought that she had all of the backbone of a damp rag. However, it didn’t matter, even female nidoran fought when backed into a corner.
“Oh go off and find the baby electric mouse. Corazon was fighting him earlier; he has to be around somewhere,” Alex ordered, before turning back to Adam.
“Wash Pot’s right,” the spiky black haired boy said. “We haven’t battled, but after I figure out which one is my pokemon I’ll battle and beat you. C’mon, Wash Pot, let’s not defile his grace’s presence any more.”
They left Alex to walk back to the entrance of the greenhouse, and moved over to the shallow pool. Wash Pot fiddled with her eevee statuette. She fiddled with things when she was nervous, or in this case angry.
How dare Alex just write her off like that? She wasn’t the most exciting person in the world, she knew, but that didn’t mean that he should just ignore her. Now that she came to think of it, he never used her name if he could help it. He just called her The Girl.
“Maybe I’ll take the zubat if it will stop trying to attack Scott,” she mused, looking about, and still hearing yelps of: “Ow, leech life hurts!”
“C’mon,” Adam said, obviously not really paying attention or caring about her muttering. “Alex said his charmander attacked the pichu. We should find it before someone tries to sit on it or something. Look about for a flash of yellow, or some extra sparks.”
Wash Pot peered under the undergrowth and glanced around. She admired the way the trestle tables were set up; there were tiny paths between them, and the plants were larger the closer to the glass surrounding the green house one got. It really was like a forest to her small ten year old eyes.
She was getting towards the end of the miniature forest closest to the small pool when she found the pichu. It was relaxing in the shallows of the tile lined pretend lake. The cute yellow thing was tired looking, but other than that it looked fine. Of course, all she could see of it was a side view of a yellow head and ears just above the water.
Wash Pot walked over, amazed. This was the first time she had met a pokemon in the wild, well semi wild, this up close and personal. Of course her brief encounters she had at her parent’s breeding center, and the ones during her walk across the fields to school every other day, did not count. They were generally either with tame pokemon, or ones already owned by other trainers.
“Hey little fella,” she said when she was close enough.
The pichu obviously was surprised because it practically leapt into the air with a screamed “Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” and splashed down in the water again. Its now wet and spiky fur discharged all of the static sparks that it had been storing.
From the not so deep depths something rose. It looked like a rock at first, but moved towards them with the speed of a striking snake. The pichu was already scrambling out of the water, and Wash Pot was stepping back nervously from both pokemon. The rock she knew to be the squirtle if only because she had not met many rocks that lived in water, moved, and had plate armor shells.
The rock confirmed her suspicions by rearing into its hind legs, and popping its head out of the shell to yell something in its poke-language at the pichu.
“Squirt squir squir squirtle!” the irate blue pokemon yelled at the young electric mouse.
Wash Pot did not really blame the squirtle too much. Electricity was still crackling over its wet shell and it looked as if it might be slightly paralyzed. Not that it was really damaged. She had enough experience with her mother’s jolteon’s still unpredictable thunderwaves to know that it would be a mere numbness that would pass in ten minutes at most.
“Hey! You found the pichu?” Adam ran up excitedly.
Chris was close on his tail, the abra still firmly attached to his head, and the zubat being lovingly held in a protected circle of his arms.
“Wash Pot, yeah, do you want the abra? You’re a girl and psychics like girls,” Chris said. Obviously he had been trying to get rid of the psychic and was on his last person. “See, she’s nice. You could go bond with her and leave my head alone for a while,” he tried to coax his head ornament.
Nuh-uh!
They all, except Chris, jumped at the child like voice in their heads. Adam looked at Chris and his abra with slightly scared shock. The young psychic type had just spoken into his mind. He had thought that they could only speak to other pokemon or people with a psychic gift. Did he have a psychic gift?
Hehehe. You’re funny, even for a human, the amused voice invaded his mind (again!).
“Squir?” the turtle pokemon had crossed its arms and tried to look unimpressed.
Can we get back to the matter at hand – please? A boyish voice, with the same hint of annoyance as the squirtle’s expression betrayed, spoke into their minds.
Even Chris looked a little wary now.
“Raindancer, please tell me what that was?” he asked in a quavering voice. I was just translating for you and your friends, Chris of the River Mind. Humans usually like to know what their partners are saying, and those around them, the abra replied in something that was not precisely thoughts.
Well, at least the thoughts were not totally words, although they arranged themselves in the children’s heads as words. They seemed to be more like large ideas and bits of knowledge that the kids’ minds were forced to cope with by giving them the structure of words.
“O-okay. Next question. Why do I know your name?!” Chris’ voice was teetering on the edge of hysteria.
[/i]We’re bonded![/i] No response could have been accompanied by a happier tone of excitement and cheerfulness.
Will all of you please let me deal with that pichu! The squirtle yelled in his poke-speech that was almost simultaneously translated by Raindancer the abra.
You said I could hide in the water to get away from that nasty charmander! The little electric mouse cried out in a genderless childish voice.
And then rest in it after that dragon human healed you! I know. But I said as long as you didn’t shock me! So, get out and stay out! The squirtle turned his back.
“Aw, it’s okay lil’fella,” Adam, big, giant Adam, knelt down to the sniffing pichu’s level and picked up the little pokemon. “You can come with me, and no angry squirtle or the charmander, will get you.” Chris snickered.
“Aw, does the Johtoan have a soft spot for the ikkle fing?” he asked in baby talk. His eyes crossed for a moment and then he glared at his odd hat rubbing his temples. “That hurt!”
It was to teach you not to act like an idiot. Hey, Bubblebrain, Raindancer called derisively to the squirtle, c’mon, you only have seven minutes to get to know the other choices of human here. Two are already taken – no matter what Chris of the River Mind might say. But there are plenty of nice ones left.
Don’t want a trainer, the squirtle said mutinously, its stubby arms crossed over its chest plate. I have my pool, it’s all I need and want.
Whatever. You’ll get a human sooner or later.
The group of humans was already leaving the squirtle’s territory, so he didn’t really care about what the immature abra had to say. He was going to keep to himself; it was the safest way, after all. Sure, he was a little curious, but curiosity killed the Persian as the aide who fed him liked to say.
He only needed to grow one more level before he was too old for a trainer’s pokemon. The nice professor would then allow him to live in the fields surrounding the lab where he would rise to the top just as he had in this little green house. He was alone in the world and he liked it. If someone wanted to impose on him, like that pichu, he wouldn’t let them unless they really needed it.
He wondered if all the other pokemon in the house were going to leave with the humans. He wouldn’t mind seeing the last of the charmander. She was far too – defensive for is taste. She’d attack anything if she saw it as a threat to herself or something she was trying to protect. She should learn from his example and leave well enough alone. It also irritated him that she did not bow to his authority as a water pokemon, and obviously superior to her fire type.
However, he would miss the zubat and bulbasaur. They were good people. The bulbasaur, although hiding an internal spring of anger, kept to herself, which he liked. The zubat was nearly always asleep, except for at night. She was a kind person, always ready for a quick laugh, a second’s worth of conversation with him before she was let out late at night to feast on bug pokemon. She knew where the limits of polite conversation lay.
He should probably check on them, before they were carted off to get in trouble with young humans, though. Having made his decision, the squirtle snuck off among the trestle tables.
The children were sitting in a circle, some on their knees, some cross legged. It seemed to be unconsciously adopted, a reflexive action determining peace and stillness. It reminded the squirtle of the way that young squirtles would pop into their shells automatically to rest since their elders had pounded it into them that protection and safety was the most important thing. Perhaps sitting in a circle was the human equivalent of telling their loud obnoxious children to be quiet. Now that they were alone in a group they would huddle together to be quiet.
“Hey, Chris, can I see the zubat?” the only female human asked of the psychic’s chosen.
“It’s asleep right now, do you have to take it?” the boy’s mouth was set in a surly line.
“Well, it’s either that or let Scott take it. You can’t have two pokemon, Chris, as much as you might want them,” the girl’s voice was reasonable, but there was a hint of stone underneath it, which the squirtle heartily approved of.
People should always stand up for them selves, and he noticed that human females had a tendency to either be too pushy, or weak willed. Both attitudes were unacceptable. Males and females were equal and superior to one another in different ways. Stone was needed in people’s natures.
“Would you two stop calling her an “it”?!” the dragon boy asked.
He had not taken his cold green eyes off the task of peeling away the dry, shedding skin around his charmander’s shoulders. She was purring contentedly, curled against the human like a meowth. The squirtle was almost disgusted by the display. The dragon boy deserved a pokemon so much better than that willful child.
The two humans who had been talking looked slightly abashed. However the female spoke up again, as if she hadn’t heard the dragon boy.
“Chris, I’d like to hold her because I don’t know what pokemon to choose and I might want to choose the zubat.”
Chris nodded, as if it made sense, but he didn’t hand the pokemon over to the girl. Instead he asked how much time was left.
“Two minutes,” the biggest boy with the pichu said promptly.
The little yellow fluff ball was giggling as the big human tickled him. It finally escaped the boy’s clutches and ran across the tiles to hide behind the girl, who was looking entreatingly at the psychic type’s boy.
“Chris –,” she began.
“Why bother trying to pry the zubat away?” the dragon boy asked sneeringly. “We all know that you’ll take whatever is leftover, because you don’t want to offend anyone. Why are you even here? Girls never make training a serious profession. You’re the daughter of breeders, and we all know that’s where your pokemon will end up; contest fodder.”
The girl’s lips tightened and she gritted her teeth. The fingers of her left hand were rubbing something clenched inside that hand.
“Firstly,” she said, her voice calm and hard as flint, “when insulting someone it is ill-bred to not look them in the face. Are you afraid that I will cry because you’ve tossed a few words around? Not even very well chosen words. My mother is a breeder, but my father is the President of Research for Silph Co. Therefore, I am the daughter of a breeder. Singular. Secondly, unless you have suddenly developed the talent of foresight, you have no way of knowing whether I will make training a serious profession or not.”
The black haired boy finally drew his attention away from his charmander long enough to look at the girl in her ponyta-ish face. His eyes flashed with an angry fire. However, this was the only portion of his face which showed emotion. His glare was directed at the girl, and without words it pointed out all the flaws in her face and personality. Once the boy was certain that his glare had demoralized the girl enough he began to clip her oversized ego to the proper proportions as benefited her station in life.
“I am sorry that I was not as accurate in my insults as I should have been,” he began, making a mocking half bow where he was seated. “However, history stacks against you. Name the last thirty champions. Not one of them has been female. Everyone agrees that the female gym leaders, with two exceptions, are the easiest to beat. Girls are rarely ever trainers after they turn twenty. They have found men and settled down. Those who haven’t quit usually become breeders.
“And this is what your family expects you to do. That is the only reason that they are letting you out at this age. They want you to try it for the year, and then they know that you will come back, ready to enter the world where you were meant to stay, the world of the home.
“You don’t deserve to be here. No doubt you will love and care for your pokemon during this journey, but in five years they will be forever trapped in their pokeballs, assigned to sit moldering on a shelf, with no outlet or freedom,” Alex’s eyes were hard, but his speech finished he went back to taking care of his charmander.
The rest of the boys looked at him in shock. Sure, they all kidded around with Wash Pot about her being The Girl and all, but that was harsh. Each boy, even Matt, drew a breath to defend their Girl. They all began to speak at once, yelling insults and accusations at Alex.
Wash Pot stared at the ground, rubbing the plastic statuette as if it was helping her reflect on what was said. Her expression was emotionless. One might say withdrawn.
The squirtle watched her. He felt surprised. He had heard that humans leaked water when they had been yelled at like that. This girl seemed to be unmovable, though. If she was upset she was hiding it. Finally she looked up again, as the abuse from her classmates began to wind down.
“You’re wrong,” she told Alex firmly.
There was no boasting about becoming the greatest trainer ever. The statement that the girl had made merely stayed hanging in the air. It almost bordered on the verge of being a challenge.
The squirtle was impressed. This human knew the proper way of going about things. Withdraw when attacked, and then once everything had calmed down pop out again and say in the clearest of terms “you have tried your best, but I am still here and I will always be here.”
The boy just ignored her, though.
A real fight might have broken out if Professor Oak hadn’t come out of the room, a stop watch in one hand and six pokeballs in the other.
“Alright children. The exciting time has arrived. You have to choose your pokemon. I’ll be calling people up in order of age. Adam Goin.”
Adam shot up, tripped over his sneakers and nearly fell, the pichu cradled in one arm.
“Yes sir, I choose the pichu,” he said once he regained his balance.
Professor Oak nodded, and handed him a pokeball with a lightning bolt etched into the enamel. “This is pichu’s pokeball, just recall him and he’s yours. Head into the lab and talk to my assistant and get your pokedex, and everything else,” the professor instructed before calling out: “Alexis Hango, which do you choose?”
There were a few sniggers at “Alexis” and Alex colored slightly. However, he rose with his usual predatory grace, and strode to the Professor.
“I have chosen Corazon,” he said calmly his hand out to accept the flame etched pokeball.
As the charmander disappeared in a burst of red energy and Alex turned to walk into the lab, Professor Oak called for the next trainer to be.
“Melamine Brown, would you come up and choose, please.”
Wash Pot gulped as she stood. The walk to the professor seemed to take an age. The zubat was still asleep in Chris’s arms, and it did not look as if he was going to be letting go any time soon. The abra was not available. The bulbasaur, she cast a quick glance around, only to see Matt with his arms crossed, his back to it, and an angry glare on his face that was mirrored exactly by the bulbasaur. Wash Pot knew that there was no way that she could handle something as ornery as the plant pokemon this early in her career.
She stood in front of the Professor, deciding to ask for the zubat that Chris coveted so much.
“Squirt squirtle.”
She looked around in shock as the water pokemon tried to rush to her side. It wasn’t easy on the stubby turtle legs, but the blue pokemon managed it.
“Squirt squirtle,” it said again.
The squirtle was just as shocked as Melamine that he was doing this. However, he had decided that of all the trainers he didn’t want to go with anyone else. He had forgotten that he didn’t want to go period when the Alexis kid had given his speech about how worthless Melamine was. The way that the female had acted had impressed the tiny turtle, and he felt that she deserved his protection in the outside world.
“I take it that he has chosen you?” Professor Oak said, a little bemused, but handing Melamine the pokeball with the etched water drop.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:00:51 GMT -5
Chapter Three: Out of the Gate
Melamine nodded mutely and touched the pokeball to the smooth blue head. She quickly walked through the door into the lab. The room seemed dark and cool after the sun and warmth of the green house. Melamine stood blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. She gripped the pokeball nervously, trying to hide the water droplet from view.
“Hoi, over here,” Adam called. He waved encouragingly over to where he was standing, next to an assistant with a pencil tucked behind one ear and a clipboard in hand. His pichu was already out again, and running around his feet excitedly. Alex was nowhere to be seen.
The Girl walked over to the assistant, gripping the eevee very hard. She was glad that she had chosen to take the eevee, which must have been what was conferring the luck to her of getting a pokemon who actually wanted her. She hoped that the luck didn’t run out.
“Hello, Miss Brown,” the assistant said, his flat voice told her that he had rehearsed this speech several times, “here is the newest version of the Kantoanese pokedex. It has the information for the three known regions, and the Orange Islands. I think in a few months we can get the Orre information as well. If you just let it scan your pokeball, like so,” he held the dark grey rectangle so that the blank camera lens in the center was able to emit a red beam that hit the pokeball cupped in Wash Pot’s hand. Immediately the smooth rectangle of the pokedex flipped open to display a 3D picture of squirtle and a list of information. “The pokedex will close if you press this button,” a small black button on the edge was indicated, “and it has many other features, try it out for yourself. Here is your standard set of five pokeballs, and off you go. Mister Drakan, over here please.”
The assistant waved Matt over just as he gently shooed Melamine to the side. She looked around the lab and then decided that Adam must have left to go outside. Walking through the jumbles of electronics with a pokemon in a pokeball that was her very own was strangely no different from walking through them as the pokeless Wash Pot.
Once she got outside she looked around, Adam was leaning on the fence, clicking buttons on his open pokedex excitedly, while Alex was carefully stowing his in his back pack. Adam’s pichu was hiding in the shadow of his trainer’s leg, while Corazon, the charmander, was watching it with cool amber eyes.
Melamine wet her lips nervously, and tried to release her pokemon while no one was looking. However, Adam noticed, and beamed, saying a little too loudly: “Awesome! No one else deserves the squirtle more than you, Wash Pot.”
Alex looked up, and observed the blue turtle, as it stood next to Melamine. “Hm, pity. He deserves better,” was all that Alex would comment.
“This’ll be great, finally something I can beat you at,” Adam grinned. He was the worst in the classes, while The Girl tended to be up among the top tier of knowledge. “Bolt has the type advantage.”
“Bolt?” Melamine asked, sounding confused.
“His pichu. I would have thought that even you could see that,” Alex sneered, he seemed to be going out of his way to be as unpleasant as possible. “Bolt, lightning bolt. Hardly a complex name for an electric type. Although, it is possible that the mouse was named for the way it so quickly runs to safety.”
“Yeah, I did,” Adam said, flushing slightly. “So, what did you name your pokemon?” he asked Mel, trying to quickly change the subject.
Melamine looked down quickly, trying to draw inspiration from her turtle. All she could think of was the fact that his skin looked a little like the opal that adorned her mother’s engagement ring. However, opal wasn’t a good name for a boy.
It was a beautiful ring, Mel thought crazily. Mother always wore it, and when she went out to parties she would wear a necklace of lapis lazuli. It was a beautiful blue, like what she thought the sea ought to look like, with flecks of gold swimming in the depths of the stone.
“Lapis,” she heard herself say, without really thinking. She was about to add lazuli, but decided that “Lapis” sounded like a name that a guy could wear, where as lazuli would make it all too feminine.
“Lapis, huh?” Adam asked. “Well, I suppose that works as long as you don’t catch a lapras. Hey, have you checked out what you can do with the pokedex?”
“No, not yet,” Melamine replied. “I just got out here, remember?”
“Great, I’ll show you what I’ve managed to find. Look here,” he pressed a button on his and the three-dimensional hologram of Bolt appeared, underneath it were the stats of his pokemon.
Melamine couldn’t help looking eagerly at the stats, trying to see what Bolt could do, exactly. He had horrible defense, and, even better, his HP was low, meaning that one good hit could knock him out. Adam was her best friend, but it was generally expected that the trainers starting out together would all have battled one another before the day was through. Melamine wanted to win, she realized.
“Well, come on,” Adam encouraged. “Press that button on your `dex and you’ll get Lapis’ stats.”
Melamine pressed the button, and then began to cycle through hers until Chris joined them. He was interested in the uses that a pokedex could provide that had nothing to do with pokemon. Together the three found a map (and locator, so they would never get lost), current information about the prices of pokemon goods (and information about any big sales in near by towns), a list of suggested survival gear to have at all times, an interdexal e-mail system (“so we can brag about the rare pokemon we’ve caught to each other,” Adam had grinned), and something called the “Proto_Holo_Prog” with the label that it would be activated upon sighting of the first really wild pokemon.
They were interrupted in their search through the immense database by Scott, who was last to come out.
“Hey, guys, I was thinking. We’re all going to be going to Viridian first, right? Before we go anywhere else. So, why not, instead of just separating to go home to our parents and then starting out, we all meet by that huge sycamore overlooking The Field? We can see how well we’ve chosen then, and leave each other with a taste of what to expect against different trainers,” he suggested.
The other five children looked at each other, or in Matt’s case, glared at the ground. Alex finally summed up the general consensus.
“You’ve had many a stupider idea. Fine. We’ll see each other there at ten.”
They all hung around for a moment longer, and then separated. Mel hopped the fence, and began racing toward her home. Alex and Scott walked down the lane for a little ways before turning to go in opposite directions. Adam ran to catch up with Alex, who lived in the same part of Pallet as he did. Matt and Chris were left staring at each other. Chris came from an orphanage near Viridian, and had no real reason to go there, only to turn around again to make it to the sycamore that overlooked the shortcut of a field from Viridian to Pallet.
“So, you're going home?” Chris finally asked Matt.
“Yeah,” Matt said.
Something in the back of Chris’s mind which had been growing since the minute Raindancer had declared that they were bonded said, very quietly, he’s lying.
“You’re,” Chris was about to accuse Matt, but then he remembered that he was a small wiry boy, not yet four foot six, while Matt was much larger. He wasn’t as giant-like as Adam, but he was tall enough to be looked up to. Not only that, Matt’s hands had balled into fists. “Going to give it your all?” Chris finished lamely.
“Yeah.”
“Cool. What did you call your bulbasaur?” Chris decided to change things to a more cheerful subject. The answer he received was hardly encouraging.
“It needs a name?”
“Well, err, normally –,” Chris was cut off by Matt’s glare, which moved from the ground to land directly on the Chris’s tanned face.
“Don’t you have a home to go to?” Matt asked angrily.
“Not really. I live up by Viridian.”
“Then run there,” Matt hissed.
Chris, deciding that he had pressed his luck enough for one day, took the advice. Matt watched the dust cloud move away and looked down at the ground again. He released his pokemon from the pokeball, and hunched down to look at the bulbasaur. She stared back at him with a defiant expression on her face.
Matt opened his mouth and then closed it again. He looked at her. He had chosen this pokemon because he wanted a pokemon as stubborn as he was. A lot of trainers judged others by the pokemon that they owned. He didn’t want to be seen as soft. There was something very unsoft about the bulbasaur. So, he had requested her.
But. Always but. Had he made the right choice?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. This bulbasaur was his ticket to never seeing home again. Becoming a legal run-away.
Matt stood up again, and began walking. After a few yards he noticed he was alone.
“Come on,” Matt ordered.
“Bul. Ba,” was the stubborn reply.
Matt looked back at the saurian, and hung his head. He always was better with action rather than words.
“I’ll name you once I think of something, okay?”
“Saur,” the pokemon rolled her almond eyes.
They stood in the morning sun like this for seven minutes. Finally Matt began walking again. The green grass type caught up at the final house before the path that led to the sycamore. She managed to say with her body language:
“I’m not with you. We only happen to be walking in the same direction for the foreseeable future.” Matt looked over at her and grinned. “I’m planning on actually waiting for the others. At least one of them’s bound to have food.”
“Bulba,” Matt didn’t need the abra Raindancer on his head to know that she meant, “the advantages of sun and soil, human.”
~~~
“Hello!” Melamine called out as she burst in her front door.
“Melly!” Ayothora, Melamine’s older sister, screamed as she jumped on Melamine, to wrap her little sister in a big hug. “Can I see your bulbasaur?”
“Gah! Can’t breathe!” Melamine choked over her older sister’s excited greeting. Her pokedex and pokeballs had already fallen from her nerveless grasp.
“Ora, she can’t show you her bulbasaur if she can’t breathe,” Katherine said, stopping to pick up the dropped objects. “Also she can’t show you her bulbasaur because she doesn’t have one, unless bulbasaur’s type has changed considerably. This pokeball has a water drop on it, not a leaf.”
“Ohh,” Ayothora sighed. “You got a squirtle. They’re so ugly. Why couldn’t you manage the bulbasaur, they’re sooooooo cute!”
Both younger sisters looked at their older sister. Ora was tall, and perfectly proportioned, who only needed to wear a hint of make up to turn her from glamorous into a goddess of beauty. She was already a fashion designer with an extensive career, at just eighteen. And she applied her ideals of beauty to all walks of life.
“There’s more to life than cuteness,” Katherine, who was happily following in Alex’s black shadow, said flatly.
“And there are more colors in the rainbow than black, but I don’t see you wearing anything else,” Ora told her sister tartly.
“Erm, where are Mom and Dad?” “Melly” asked.
“Dad got a call a two this morning. He nearly ran for Viridian and the train station in his pajamas. I tried to tell you, but you were running out the door before I could reach you,” Ora told Melamine. “Mom’s in the pens, an egg is due to hatch today, and she wants to make certain that there are no mistakes, this time.”
Katherine giggled. “You have to admit, watching that trapinch terrorize that sneasel into being its mommy was pretty funny.”
Melamine sighed. “Well, I’ll get the rest of my stuff and leave then. I can always talk to them on holophone.”
“Su-ure,” Ora looked shifty. She was always bad at keeping things to herself.
“What now?” Melamine asked, certain things were about to get worse.
Not that there was anything bad in the fact that her parents had full time jobs and actually did important things. Just they couldn’t make half a day of time? Ora could, and she worked just as hard as Mom and Dad. Katherine had managed to get a day off at pokemon tech just for this. Of course, Renee was going to start at the lab’s pokeschool next semester, so this was considered an educational experience, but still – at least she had made the effort.
Melamine trudged up the stairs. Lapis was out in the garden waiting for her. She had warned him about Ora’s tendency to put ribbons on anything that moved and didn’t fight her tooth and nail. The squirtle had absolutely refused to come in and made it very clear that the pokeball would be ignored unless Melamine wanted the instrument smashed.
She thought about putting the eevee back on the dresser, but the friendly black eyes that peeped up at her made Melamine reconsider. She had a standoffish squirtle, and would be dealing with strange events and stranger people for at least a year, if it didn’t take her longer to earn all eight badges needed. Having something friendly to rely on would be very nice.
She slipped it into her pack. Looking around her room she realized that she had packed almost everything that she could get at home with uncanny foresight. She had even remembered pokechow, and extra food. Not to mention an incubator for any eggs found along the way, and the tarp to go under the tent. These were things generally forgotten by beginning trainers – well the incubator was a little extreme. She had her pokeballs, and extra potions, antidotes, paralyze heals, two full heals … the list took more time to check off than finding the various things had been. The only thing she hadn’t been able to get a hold of was escape rope. Melamine felt a sense of foreboding as she shouldered her pack again. She instinctively felt that a trainer without a good piece of rope was in trouble.
Well, she had her good luck charm in the form of the eevee, and that was about all she needed. Right?
She trotted back down the stairs to come face to face with Ora’s large, infectious grin.
“Hey, didn’t think you’d get away from here without presents, did you?” the young woman asked.
“Yeah,” Katherine stepped from behind Ora, wiping her rimless glasses on her black sleeve. “This just wouldn’t be the Brown House if we allowed you to leave without some form of useless ceremony.”
“Blind fold?” Ora held out her hand and a thick deep blue ribbon was thrust into it. Ora tied it into a skillful bow around Melamine’s head, covering her eyes.
“Okay, can you see?” Katherine asked.
“No, Renee. You know, we never did anything this annoying for Ora,” Melamine complained.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just lucky that way,” the grin was audible in Ora’s voice. “Now, who is this from?”
Melamine’s arms were suddenly weighted down with something heavy and round. The shape was so familiar that she didn’t need to think. “Mom, at least this is one of her eggs.”
“Got it in one, okay, take the blindfold off,” Ora instructed. “See? Being a smart girl pays off.”
“And the point of the blind fold was?” Melamine asked as Renee undid the bow holding the strip of blue in place.
“An excuse for Ora to tie a bow in something, I assume,” the youngest sister stated, tying the blindfold around her head like a headband.
“Yup!” Ora said happily. “You should put the egg in the incubator now. It’ll be much easier to carry.”
Melamine did as she was told, admiring the golden glow of the shell. It looked like a sunset. She hoped that whatever pokemon appeared out of it would be just as pretty – although perhaps a little smoother than the shell, which was rough and gritty.
“Do you know what it is?” she asked, strapping the incubator in place on her back pack.
“Search me,” Ora shrugged.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Renee looked cross, she must have been left out of the loop on this one, too. “But Mom specializes in breeding pokemon from other places, so it could be a regional Johtoan pokemon – or one from Hoenn – or something special that they only get in the Orange Islands – or something new and exotic from Orre.”
“Gee, way to narrow down a list, there,” Melamine said.
“Oh don’t bother about the egg, open my present next!” Ora said excitedly, shoving a soft, well wrapped bundle under Melamine’s nose.
Melamine undid the bow, looking dubious. “If this is pink,” she warned, before gasping.
Dark green silk with silver bamboo leaves embroidered upon it unfolded to form a sleeveless kimono. The obi was black with dark green leaves, and the haori to cover it all was pale green with gold leaves.
“Woooooooooooow,” Melamine looked at it with her eyes wide.
“It’s for when you get to the League,” Ora said grinning like a maniac. “What you have in your hands is a preview of our winter line. It’s based off the 12th century Johtoan style, but I modified it so there were less layers, and you note the slits up the side? You can definitely run in this. I even made the skirt slightly shorter to aide with that. Still, it’s a party thing, really. Don’t wear it for every day occasions. And when you put the obi on you need to put it pretty high up so it flattens your chest – not that you have one – the style I gave for you is supposed to make you look younger. My pink version was designed to annunciate the curves and my maturity. Stop looking at me like that.”
Both Katherine and Melamine were staring at her as if she had gone crazy.
“Maturity?” Katherine asked the thing that was running through both their minds. “Please don’t make me laugh.”
“Hey!”
“Anyway, now you have the present from both me and Dad,” Katherine said, handing Melamine a small envelope.
“Meaning you did the card and he bought the present?” Melamine asked looking a the gorgeous drawing on the envelope of a charmander evolving into a charmeleon in a burst of fire. Renee was truly a gifted artist.
“Pretty much,” Katherine was unrepentant.
Melamine opened the envelop, and read the small note out loud. “To Mel, here’s some good luck, via the pinch Renee is about to – OW! – give you. Remember, be generous and you’ll do us proud. Don’t forget to call after you’ve beaten each gym leader, and don’t ever go for more than a month without calling! I’ve put some money in your account for supplies, and your present is a ticket for the boat ride from Pallet to Cinnabar, and Cinnabar to Fuchsia. These are redeemable at any time. Lots of love, Dad. P.S. come see me when you get to Celadon, we’re moving out of Saffron to a new office. It should be exciting, and my employees would just love to meet you.”
Melamine smiled. “This has been the best day of my life, so far. I mean, it started off a little rocky, but you guys really have made it special. Thanks!” She leapt on both her sisters and drew them into a bear hug.
Disentangling herself finally she walked to the door. “Hey, Lapis!” she called. “Before we leave you have to meet my sisters!”
The squirtle looked up. “Squir?” he asked, clearly confused by the entire mood change.
“Oh fine, they’ll meet you. Renee, this is Lapis,” a small, delicate girl with short black hair and glasses was shoved in front of the squirtle. “And Ora is my older sister,” this newer one was tall with lots of cascading brown hair. “And now you know them. This is Lapis, and we’re going to prove ourselves! From now on, I’m Trainer Mel, and I’m going to make it to the league without dropping out, and we’re going to show them all.”
Both Lapis and Renee looked at Mel. Ora was clapping. “It’s marvelous that you’ve finally given your ego that much needed booster shot,” she was saying happily.
“I think you had too much sugar,” Katherine said, totally unmoved.
“Squirt,” Lapis agreed.
“Guys, come on, I didn’t think anyone would really be so supportive of me, I thought you all would just say how proud you were and then go off,” Mel told her sisters. “Especially when Mom and Dad couldn’t make time in their schedules, but now that you really do care – it makes all the difference, it really does.”
“Hey, you’re a Brown,” Ora said.
“Yeah, if you can’t make it through the craziness then who else can. Of course we’d support you. The entire family is about making really odd decisions,” Katherine managed to crack a grin as well. Mel smiled, and then hoisted her pack. “C’mon Lapis, we’re late for the meeting at the sycamore tree.”
~~~
“Mother, I’m home,” Alex called as he walked into the kitchen.
He knew his mother would be washing up right about now. He couldn’t wait to show her Corazon. Mother would just love the little beauty. He was going to train her until not even his cousin’s kingdra could stop Corazon.
His mother turned away from the sink, although her hands were still immersed. She had foregone wearing traditional clothes today, Alex was glad to see. He didn’t understand why his mother clung so desperately to the traditions of a place that had kicked them out, had said that who they were was wrong.
“Hango-kun,” she smiled, her eyes closed, the corners squinched up with laugh lines, “did you get the starter you wanted?”
“Of course, Mother,” Alex told her, not even minding that she was still using that stupid nickname for him, as he held out Corazon for her inspection. “See? Her name is Corazon. Isn’t she the most powerful charmander you’ve ever seen?”
At the word charmander Mother’s eyes snapped open, and focused on the crooning lizard with a troubled look.
“Alex, we aren’t allowed. You know we aren’t allowed,” she began.
“I don’t see why I can’t have a fire type,” Alex exploded with annoyance. “Charizard aren’t classified as dragons. The only pokemon we’re not allowed to use are dragons, right? Well, Corazon isn’t a dragon!”
“But you’re only sticking to the letter, not the spirit of Grandpa’s –,” his mother began.
“If he left a loophole that’s his problem! I don’t see why we should abide by some stupid three thousand year old idea when it destroys who we are! Everyone says you were the best dragon tamer in your day, yet you gave it up to become a virtual slave because of some stupid accident that didn’t even happen to you! Why listen to the foolish ideas of some old man! At least release your pokemon so they have some freedom, instead of leaving them to languish on some shelf because you can’t give up your fantasies!” Alex yelled, tears not quite brimming over his eyelashes.
His mother shrank from his rage, only annoying him more. His own mother had less spine than some idiot girl with her stupid squirtle. If Mother was a real mother she’d draw herself up and yell right back, or punish him, or actually stand up for herself once in a while. Plus, the sorrow in her eyes when she looked at him only made him feel like a monster. It was worse than getting hit.
“Where’s Father?” he asked, stroking Corazon, who was hissing angrily at the human that had made her partner yell.
“In the back yard, sunning himself,” Alex heard his mother say. “Please, don’t go there. He’d know what you were feeling, but – he can’t understand why. It’s one of his bad days.”
“They’ve all been bad,” Alex muttered, hanging his head.
“He really does try, you know. He still recognizes us, he’s just getting confused about everything else. I’m sure he’d be proud of Corazon if he was in his right mind.”
“Yeah,” Alex said turning around. “Well, I gotta get going. I need to meet all of the other newbies at the sycamore tree.”
“Hango-kun –,”
“It’s Alex.”
“Hango-kun,” she persisted, “don’t ever forget, no matter what, I love you.”
“Yes, Mother,” he sighed, and walked out the door, Corazon still cradled in his arms.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:01:20 GMT -5
Chapter Four: Pride and Loyalty
When Mel reached the sycamore Matt was already there, participating in yet another glaring contest with his bulbasaur. Lapis nodded at the saurian pokemon, and then followed his human around the tree where she stood stock still.
“Today just isn’t my day, is it?” she muttered, looking at Alex and Corazon, sitting against the other side of the tree.
“No, it isn’t,” Alex confirmed, not looking up as he was going through his pokedex.
Mel sighed, and went to sit between the two. Matt was not what she would call communicative, and Alex was not her choice of company after this morning. She hoped the others would show up soon.
Holding her knees up to her chin in a one armed embrace she looked down at Lapis. He had gone into his shell. Hardly a ringing endorsement.
“How much longer until ten?” she asked the silent air.
“Twenty three minutes,” Alex replied emotionlessly.
Mel got out her pokedex, and began amusing herself by looking up the information for the other pokemon that had been given out. She wondered how their battle would be, considering that there were six of them and no pokemon center until they reached Viridian. Pallet was too small to have its own center – plus, most thought that the Professor’s lab was a fine place to heal pokemon. And it was, of course, just that Mel doubted that anyone felt like starting out their journey by running back to the Professor to have a quick heal up.
“Heeeeeeeeey, now! Why the long face?” Mel looked up into the cheerful grin that was adorning Chris’s face.
“Just bored, when’d you get here?” Mel asked.
“Oh, I was here first, I just went to take a bit of a walk when Mr. Happy and the Vampire showed up,” Chris told her, sitting down next to Mel. She noticed his abra was still in the pokeball etched with the All-Seeing Eye that was the symbol of psychics everywhere.
“Really? What are vampires, anyway? I’ve always meant to ask,” Mel said, feeling very brave for questioning him.
“It’s something my sister told me about,” Chris replied easily. “She told me once long, long ago before pokemon existed there used to be monsters that roamed the night seeking blood to make people’s lives a misery. Somehow, I thought it fit tall, dark, and arrogant, over there.”
“It seems a little weird that seeking blood makes someone’s life a misery,” Mel suggested, not daring to turn and see the black expression on Alex’s face, in case it sent her in a fit of giggles.
“Not only that, we all know that pokemon have existed on this planet since before human beings evolved,” Alex said coldly, not turning to look at either Mel or Chris. “It’s the only explanation as to why they are more genetically advanced than we are. You’re just spouting stories that we leave behind with the nursery.”
“I can see why you went for a walk,” Mel told Chris dryly.
“Yeah, hey, just so I won’t have to deal with his gloating face when he wins, can I battle you, Wash Pot?” Chris asked pleadingly.
“Well,” Mel began, she had rather wanted to destroy Alex’s good opinion of himself.
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want to lose to Scott, and Matt would pound Raindancer into the ground. Alex wouldn’t be much better. You’re the only sensible one when you battle, and even if you want to wipe the smirk off his face that badly, we all have a reason to want it at one time or another so you’ve got to get in line,” Chris continued, winding down, as he saw her expression. “What?”
“How did you know – ?” Mel began.
“He is a psychic, Girl. Don’t you ever listen in class? The only way to get a psychic pokemon as enthusiastic as Raindancer was this morning is to bring them in to contact with a psychic human, particularly if both the human and pokemon are in the developmental stages of their powers,” Alex said patronizingly from one side of the tree. “And I do suggest you take his offer. It’s the only way that your squirtle will have a hope in Hell of winning with you training him.”
“So, you think that just because I’m me I’ll need to face an abra who only knows teleport in order to win?” Mel said, her fist shaking beside her on the grass.
“Yes.”
“Stuck up thingy,” Chris muttered in annoyance at Alex. “When Raindancer becomes a kadabra then you’ll be laughing out the other side of your face.”
“Hmph,” Alex managed to insert an audible smirk in that syllable.
They were quiet for a while, young tempers cooling off, and switching to another topic of interest without much thought.
“So – what’s it like being psychic?” Mel wanted to know.
Suddenly only the sound of rustling from the long grass near by filled the silence that had bloomed around the tree.
Chris was looking nervous, as all ears were suddenly riveted on what he had to say. For the first time in his career as a comedian and class clown he was at a loss for words.
Raindancer, he asked uncertainly, err, what can I do?
At the moment almost nothing, the abra told him from the depths of the pokeball. You can tell when people are lying, occasionally even what they’re thinking if they’re thinking it loudly enough, or are in close physical proximity, and there’s the bond between us, but nothing else.
“Well, uh, not much different from being normal, I think. I can feel Raindancer in my head all the time – and I know if someone’s lying, but that’s about it,” he finally managed after Raindancer supplied the answers. Even from her pokeball she could contact him, and that made him nervous.
“Oh,” said Mel. She heard a soft scooting sound, and suddenly noticed that both Matt and Alex had moved towards the side of the trunk furthest away from Chris.
The conversation died and Chris picked up a blade of grass in order to make it into a whistle. Mel watched with a detached air, until Lapis shot out of his shell, and Raindancer released herself from her pokeball, and they both began to berate Chris about the god-awful noise, pokespeech overlaid with thought.
“Okay, okay, I’m quitting!” Chris gave in. “Hey, who just chuckled?!”
Melamine stuck her head around the tree trunk and looked to see Alex smirking and Matt restraining his bulbasaur. Corazon was not looking happy, either. However the charmander had curled herself comfortably in Alex’s lap, and it did not look as if she intended to move. Mel sighed. She wished she got on as well as that with Lapis.
“Hiya guys, have fun waiting?” Scott called.
He and Adam were walking up the track together. Bolt was sitting on Adam’s head, holding onto the spiky hair and surveying the landscape with the interest of someone who doesn’t get to be high up very often. Scott had stuck his zubat in her pokeball, sensibly. The bat wouldn’t enjoy the glare of the morning sun all that much.
“So, I thought to be fair to everyone,” Scott continued, “we could roll dice to see who gets to battle who, and who gets to go first. I have a die with me. We could match up opposite numbers. Who ever rolled one would have to battle whoever rolled six, and two would battle five, and three would battle four, see? And if you got a number that someone else already rolled then you would just have to roll again. Okay with everyone?”
Alex stood up and nodded curtly as Mel, Adam, and Chris chorused “Yes,” while Matt just shrugged. “Right, we’ll do this youngest to oldest,” Scott said, “I’ll roll first, then Chris, then Matt, then Wash Pot, then Adam.
He rolled a two, and Chris scooped up the die, shook it around half heartedly, and let it drop. He rolled another two, and sighed. Picking it up, he began again.
“I think I see the flaw in your system,” Matt commented shortly. “We could be at this until the sun goes down.”
Chris rolled a six, and then handed the die off to Matt. Matt took it and rolled a three. Mel picked it up, and shook it, her heart in her mouth. This would be her first real pokemon battle.
“We’re not doing this for money, are we?” Chris voiced the question that she had been thinking as Mel dropped the die.
She had rolled two, and scooped that false roll up as Scott answered, “nope.”
“And what about healing our pokemon?” Mel wanted to know as she let the die fall once more. Two again! “ Hey, are these rigged?”
“No, you’re just unlucky,” Adam joked, although he looked concerned. “What about healing, Scott?”
“Err,” Scott began.
“I have a spare potion,” Alex volunteered.
Mel felt guilty as she picked up the six her third roll had produced. She should have thought of that. She had enough healing supplies with her to last for a month. How dare Alex upstage her?!
“I can toss in a few potions as well,” she volunteered. “And I also have a few berries. Between what we all have I think we can start on the right foot. Oh, not another six!” she groaned.
“Hey, you know what they say,” Adam quipped, “third time’s the charm.”
“This is my fifth,” Mel told him, before revealing another two.
“Yeah, this really is a flawed system,” Chris yawned. “Why don’t those who have rolled just choose who they want to battle, in order of highest to lowest. I’ll take Wash Pot.”
Scott was about to protest (after all, he had rolled two,) but Matt cut in. “Alex, your charmander versus my bulbasaur.”
The other five young trainers stared at Matt incredulously. Why on earth was Matt doing this? He didn’t dislike Alex any more or less than the rest of them did, and Alex had never singled out the brown haired boy for any special tongue lashings.
Alex smirked. “You really want to take on fire with grass? At least tell me the name of your bulbasaur so we’ll know what to put on the tombstone. Unless you want to reconsider.”
“I don’t. She’ll make her own name.”
“Well, I guess that just leaves Adam and me,” Scott said, sounding far away.
Matt was too suicidal for anyone to challenge his choice of battle at the moment, and Alex’s last comment about grave stones had crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed.
“Well, um good,” stated Chris, in the same distant voice. “Can me and Wash Pot go first?”
“Sure.”
((End of Part 0ne))
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:02:53 GMT -5
((Part two.))
The wind moved through the leaves of the sycamore tree as Melamine poked Lapis. The turtle had put his head back into his shell and wouldn’t respond to his name. Finally, she managed to get him out, looking disgruntled, as Chris waited patiently. Raindancer had a smirk on her tan features, even though her eyes were closed.
“We’re having a battle. Against Raindancer,” she told the turtle pokemon.
The blue head perked up, that abra could use a few lessons in being polite. Both trainer and squirtle moved opposite Chris and his abra. Mel flipped open her pokedex, and scanned over Lapis’ two attacks. Then she moved to look at Raindancer’s single move, and breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes abras were bred to learn confusion, but teleport was all that Raindancer knew.
“Ready?” Scott asked, as both Mel and Chris put away their pokedexes. They nodded. “Fine, the battle can start.”
He stepped back as Mel shouted: “tackle!”
Chris sighed, knowing all Raindancer could do was teleport. “You know what to do,” he instructed.
Don’t be so downcast, Raindancer sent.
Lapis speeded toward the supposedly sleeping abra, only to skid to a halt as she disappeared.
I’m over here, bubble brain! She shouted derisively from behind the squirtle.
He pivoted, throwing up a cloud of loose earth and grit, before charging after the abra. She vanished, only to reappear in midair, almost behind him, lashing out with a weak kick. Lapis’ momentum did the rest, as he fell, skidding forward on his protective stomach plate. He sat up, red eyes glaring at the abra as mental snickering was cascading around the small arena.
The next moment Raindancer landed on his head. Adding insult to injury, she teleported away when he tried to swat her off, leading Lapis to smack his own head. He growled in annoyance and rose, glaring around to find her.
Mel looked horrified. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the battle, knowing that smirks would greet her if she looked at the audience. Lapis was getting madder, and madder, which was making him an easier target for Raindancer. He was doing damage to himself, not much, but it was adding up, and all of the running around was fatiguing him.
She needed a brilliant and cunning plan that could not fail, and she needed it fast.
Lapis skidded along on the ground, again, throwing up more sand.
Okay, abras were weak on the defense – but Raindancer was too speedy for a tackle to work, and probably could hold on for more than one tackle.
Raindancer giggled, pirouetting as she landed on Lapis’ back, before vanishing again. Lapis struggled upright, breathing heavily.
“Lapis, stand still!” Mel instructed.
He did, but looked at her with distrust out of the corner of his eye. His stocky turtle body was made for standing still. For now there was no way that Raindancer could over balance him. She knew this too, and reappeared two feet to Lapis’ left.
Mel bit her lip, trying not to think her plan too loudly. It would be impossible to catch the psychic type if Raindancer read her mind. She tried to pretend that she didn’t know what to do.
“Okay Lapis, this is all I can think of, tackle now!”
The turtle did as he was told, knowing as well, that it was the only thing that he could do. Rage was boiling in him as he thundered along, just as he had all those times before. The arrogant little psychic was making a fool of him, he could already see her disappearing before his eyes, and he knew there was no way to check his mad rush now.
“Tail whip!”
Centuries of instinct took over. Lapis whirled, his fuzzy light blue tail catching the abra in the face as she appeared behind him. He skidded to a stop on two feet, having made a half turn, and now facing the dazed abra. It was his turn to smirk.
“Tackle!” Mel shouted.
“Teleport!” Chris yelled. He knew Raindancer was too befuddled at the moment to continue her games, but she had to stay out of reach of the aggressive squirtle.
Raindancer disappeared with a flash, and Lapis skidded to a halt, throwing up another cloud of loose sand. She reappeared off to the right. Chris breathed out, and then looked up at Melamine. For some reason Wash Pot was smiling.
“Tackle her in your own time,” she told Lapis, who now understanding where the abra’s weak point was, nodded.
He rushed Raindancer, who teleported away, again. He continued his rushes, interspersed with bouts of tail whip. Since none of his attacks even came close to hitting the abra this was rather boring. However, Mel was counting on Lapis’ superior endurance and power. Raindancer’s teleports were taking longer and longer, until finally she was merely jumping away from the turtle, unable to summon enough energy to enter the void.
“Now pivot!” Mel cried.
Lapis did so, his back feet tearing up another shower of lose grit in the hot, sunny, morning. Raindancer covered her face as the dust choked her. Lapis saw his chance. With a final rush he tackled Raindancer to the ground.
She lay there, coughing, unable to even struggle as the superior weight flattened her.
“Raindancer is down, Lapis is the winner,” Scott said once it was obvious that Raindancer couldn’t move.
Chris grinned. “Not exactly surprised,” he pointed out as Raindancer was returned to her pokeball. Mel nodded, and took off her pack, in order to toss Chris a potion. Lapis walked over to her, foot sore and tired.
“You did it,” she told him.
The turtle shrugged, he didn’t feel much different, except for a trifle smug. He accepted the berry she gave him with grace, though. Perhaps this training thing wouldn’t be so boring, after all.
“Okay, I guess Scott and I are next?” asked Adam, and he made his way onto the impromptu arena without receiving an answer.
Scott also stepped up. He fingered his zubat’s pokeball uncertainly, knowing that she would be at a huge disadvantage in the sunny daylight. Bolt was frisking happily at Adam’s large heels, and throwing off the occasional accidental sparks.
“Nocturne,” Scott called, throwing the pokeball into the air, the zubat appeared with a grumpy screech, and immediately took off for the shady branches of the sycamore.
The bulbasaur at Matt’s feet gave something that sounded like a nasty laugh. Lapis crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes at Scott’s stupidity.
“Alright, Bolt, use a thundershock to get at her!” Adam instructed excitedly.
Bolt ran to the base of the tree obligingly, and began sparking everywhere. The little blue white crackles didn’t even raise themselves so much as three feet in the air. Nocturne began to snooze, and Alex smirked, before calling out: “All of the starters are bred to only know two moves, if they can learn two moves. Bolt doesn’t know thundershock yet, obviously.”
Adam’s face fell, and he pulled out his pokedex. “Charm and quick attack,” he read out loud, feeling depressed.
“Supersonic!” Scott yelled, obviously deciding to take advantage of Bolt’s disadvantage.
Nocturne awoke, or at least pointed her fanged mouth downward as she let loose a high pitched scream.
“Pi pi piiiiiiiiiiiii!” Bolt screamed, covering his ears, and trying to run away, only to bump into the tree. Adam looked shocked, and as confused as his pichu. He didn’t know how to deal with this turn around. He suddenly felt very envious of Wash Pot. How had she managed to scoop a victory? By getting close enough to Raindancer to attack.
“Bolt, climb the tree!” Adam instructed hopefully. Bolt whammed into the trunk twice more before he managed to climb, his head ringing with a headache. He was seeing triple images, and kept slipping.
“Leech life!” Scott said, hoping to knock out Bolt before he came to his senses. Nocturne ignored him, since a leech life would actually involve effort. She wouldn’t bother to attack unless there was a threat, or it would shut the human up. Until the sun went down she was tired, and didn’t want to think.
Bolt had reached the branch where Nocturne was, and stopped climbing as soon as his human told him to stop. It was so nice not to have the world spinning around his head while he was moving.
“Okay, now, attack her with a quick attack!” Adam tried, his excitement rising again.
Bolt looked up from here he had flopped down on the branch and closed his eyes. He was still feeling sick, but the nice human was depending on him! With a defiant “Piiii!” he rose to his four feet. Blinking he glared at the three branches rolling underneath him. Which one to take? Closing his eyes blindly he dashed forward, trusting his heart.
Nocturne felt something plummet past her, and let out a burst of sonar to see the pichu in free fall. Oh tauros dung! She dropped from the branch, her wings snapping open and she fluttered after the small pokemon.
Adam rushed under the tree, and Scott ran for the group of packs in order to get his thick winter blanket. Padding in case Adam didn’t catch Bolt. Both Alex and Mel had reached for their potions, and Chris was trying to revive Raindancer’s teleportation ability. Matt looked away, knowing there was nothing he could do, since his bulbasaur didn’t know vine whip.
In the air Nocturne dived past Bolt, swooping under him, and then fluttering above, having grabbed onto his tail. She struggled to slow the free fall, when suddenly the pichu’s natural defenses at having his tail grabbed came into play. All of the static electricity discharged with the force of a battering ram, right into Nocturne’s tiny gripping claws.
The bruise-blue bat vented another supersonic screech as she dropped Bolt again, before falling herself, fully paralyzed. With a flash Raindancer appeared next to the bat, wrapped her arms around Nocturne, and teleported away again, leaving Bolt to fall into Adam’s waiting arms.
“Wanna call it a draw?” Scott offered.
“Yeah, how’s your zubat?” Adam asked, as he lovingly cradled Bolt.
Raindancer appeared out of the void, next to Chris. She handed Nocturne’s paralyzed form over to her trainer.
“She’s fine, just paralyzed, and in a lot of pain,” Chris reported. “Hey, Wash Pot, you’ve got a bit of everything, got a paralyze heal?”
“Here,” Alex walked up, and took Nocturne, while Mel was rummaging around in her bag. “I have a cheri berry,” he gave it to Nocturne, before handing her to Scott, who returned her.
“Well, I suppose our battle is next, Drakan,” Alex addressed Matt, Corazon stepping with him as he walked to the bare patch of turned up earth.
Matt nodded, moving stiffly to the other end of the mock arena, his bulbasaur following, glaring with heated intensity at the charmander. She didn’t like fire types in general, or the attitude of this one in particular, and the trainer.
Corazon, for her part, wanted to prove how good she was. She was worthy of being Alex’s pokemon, and everyone would know it. She had wanted to go against the squirtle, for proving herself superior against a grass type was a little too easy. However, she felt up to the challenge.
“Growl!” Matt told his bulbasaur.
“Tail whip,” Alex countered.
The bulbasaur held her ground, as Corazon came nearer, growling, her muscles bunching under her skin as she formed her own strategy. Corazon was slightly daunted by the menacing sound. However, she advanced, whipping her blazing tail around, heading for the saurian face.
The green pokemon leapt in a tackle, missing the burning tail by inches. She could feel the heat coming up to roast her stomach as she pushed the charmander to the ground. Corazon struggled to rise, spitting out dirt, but the heavier, more compact plant was on top of her.
“Bulba?” the grass pokemon growled in her ear. “Ba saur.”
“Roll and scratch!” Corazon could hear her human calling. She would be loyal, and do her duty.
With a contemptuous “Char!” she touched the burning tip of her tail to her opponent’s green hide. The bulbasaur jumped away in pain, her left hind leg scorched and blistered.
Corazon rolled away, before bouncing upright, and running back to deliver a tentative scratch, testing the bulbasaur’s reflexes. The grass pokemon was caught across the face, and a tiny line was opened up across her nose, where a sticky pale green sap began to ooze.
The green saurian tackled Corazon in return, rushing forward with her head low to the ground to catch the charmander in the stomach. Corazon doubled up in pain as she staggered backward.
Her head came up a second later, however, and aggressive gleam in her amber eyes. She moved forward, using her natural agility against Matt’s bulbasaur, not waiting for Alex’s instructions as she swiped a clawed paw against the mottled green hide.
The bulbasaur spun as pain erupted on her right side, catching Corazon with her blocky head. The fire lizard was tossed back, her side bruised by the brute force of the solid grass type.
Another thin line of sap was making its way out of the tough green hide, as the bulbasaur faced Corazon for another charge. The thin lizard rose, screeching her defiance with an emphatic “Chaaaaaaaar!”
The bulbasaur rushed at the orange target of Corazon’s soft underside. The charmander stood her ground claws at the ready, her breathing heavy.
“Tail whip!” Alex yelled, as the bulbasaur bore down on Corazon.
The fire lizard whirled, burning tail heading for the bulbasaur.
“Turn!” Matt called frantically, knowing exactly what that burning tail would be able to do to his grass type if it hit her.
The bulbasaur put on the breaks, skidding as she angled her weight to the right, trying to rotate. A black scorch line followed Corazon’s tail over the grass pokemon’s left side, as the pokemon skidded away.
Finally, the bulbasaur came in a full circle. She was panting heavily, and her left hind leg was obviously not very useful now, with the charred skin, and extra strain of the fast turn having ruined it. However, her expression didn’t show a hint of backing down.
Corazon was bruised and battered. The fire in her eyes was burning stronger than the one on her tail, and she was covered in scratches. The places where the tough ground that she had been plowed into so many times by the grass pokemon’s charges were dirty smears on her once clean hide.
I won’t give up, she thought desperately. I owe it to my human. His trust in me was not misplaced. I. Will. Not. Lose!
Not giving the bulbasaur time to think Corazon charged, her claws coming around for one last scratch.
“Jump!” Matt commanded.
His starter responded almost instantly, using the same trick she had opened her battle with, ploughing Corazon into the ground. However, unlike the first time, she did not trust her ability to withstand another stab by the burning tail, so she backed off immediately.
The bulbasaur was sizing up the charmander. One more hit, and the fire type would be down, however, it was the same story for her. The lizard was only still conscious because of her conviction in the human she had chosen, and the bulbasaur knew she didn’t have that kind of motivation.
Matt was alright, as humans went, and she felt some kinship for him, but he was still alien, and she didn’t rely on anyone. She had only her pride to keep her going. It was enough to keep her from giving up, but not enough to keep her from ignoring the pain of her left leg, or the burn on her left side. Certainly, Corazon was father gone than she was, but Corazon might stubbornly hang on until the very end. The grass pokemon smirked. After all, it was what she would do.
The crowd of humans and pokemon by the tree was silent. The tension was too much for the spectators to make noise. The squirtle was looking straight at the bulbasaur. Seeing her almond eyed gaze fall on him, he nodded slightly. Probably it was his idea of rousing encouragement.
The bulbasaur dug in her hind legs, ignoring the flare of pain from the left one, and began to move, slowly at first, but building up steam as her legs moved like pistons. The momentum she was building up would be the real force behind the attack. She would not lose to some arrogant, bleeding heart charmander and her arrogant trainer.
Corazon rose painfully, her breathing labored. Her vision was swimming. She saw the saurian bearing down on her and felt anger surge. This could not be allowed to happen. She didn’t have the energy to side step this one, or even to scratch the jade pokemon. The bulbasaur was a grass type for crying out loud! Corazon had the honor of her trainer to defend! She couldn’t lose her first battle!
Her tail flared, sending a jet of flame into the sky. Automatically Corazon’s mouth opened, and the heat she had taken for anger was unleashed. Fire poured out of her mouth, hot embers crackling as they consumed the air around them. The audience watched in amazement as they roasted the on coming bulbasaur alive.
Tears began to flow down Matt’s face as he watched his starter run into the inferno. There was no way that she could have stopped herself. He hadn’t even given her a name.
The flames burned merrily on the bare earth for a moment, before bulging outwards toward Corazon. The bulbasaur erupted from the center of the blaze. Corazon looked on in amazement, as the blackened plant bore down on her. Fire smoldered on the tip of her bulb, and her face was streaked with soot and charred hide. She looked like something which had walked through Hell.
Corazon didn’t even move as the bulbasaur bore down on her. She just blinked, and then was tossed into the air as the saurian rammed into her stomach. She landed at Alex’s feet unconscious, as the fire that she had created died.
Alex knelt down, a potion ready, as he carefully felt Corazon’s body for broken bones. Mel rushed onto the field with the burn heal that Raindancer had teleported out of her pack, and a potion for Matt’s bulbasaur.
The bulbasaur was still standing, and didn’t move as the burn heal was sprayed over the burning bulb. Her eyes were glazed, and she didn’t react when the potion was forced down her throat.
She’s in too much pain, Raindancer announced, as Matt rushed to his pokemon, trying to comfort her, and help in anyway he could. She needs an actual healing, not makeshift potions. That skin won’t regrow without electronic regeneration. She’ll be able to snap out of it once her body stops feeling like its being burned alive, but until then her mind is happily somewhere else.
“I’ll take her to the Lab,” Alex volunteered, sounding deeply regretful. “It was Corazon that caused the damage, and I should make amends.”
“No you won’t!” Matt snarled suddenly, returning his bulbasaur to her pokeball. “She’s mine! Accidents happen in battles. It’s my responsibility to make certain she’s alright. Don’t you dare take that from me!”
“I didn’t mean,” Alex began.
“You never mean. Stay out of my business!” Matt said defensively. “You can’t run the world! A little sorry doesn’t change anything!”
“Guys, seriously,” Chris said, stepping between them, “calm down. Your starter isn’t going to get better by you yelling at everyone.”
“I am not yelling!” Matt screamed at Chris.
“Matt, let’s just go to the Professor’s, okay?” Scott suggested.
“Yeah, c’mon,” Adam added. “Everyone kinda got off to a bad start. The only pokemon here who isn’t extremely worn down is Lapis. We could all use the rest.”
Matt turned and strode off, his face dark as thunder. The rest followed at a discreet distance, Alex bringing up the rear, since everyone was giving him the cold shoulder.
“You know,” Scott said thoughtfully, “if anything, this only proves how dangerous it is for us to go off our separate ways. Look what’s happened already, and we didn’t even mean it to.”
“If you think I’m not going to start my journey just because of one bad practice battle,” Chris began.
“No,” Melamine cut in, “I think Scott’s right. When we separate we should do so in pairs. That way at least one of us could keep an eye on the other.”
“Especially if that other is Matt,” Adam said. “He’s really taking things hard. Would he even know what to do on his own?”
Chris was glaze eyed as Raindancer sat on his head while they walked. He spoke quietly now. “Alex isn’t much better. He has too much potential to become ruthless. And look at the loyalty he inspires in pokemon. His charmander just evolved to learn ember way earlier than most charmander do. Someone has to keep an eye on him, too.”
“Is this you talking, or Raindancer?” Adam asked, slightly uncomfortably.
“Raindancer.”
Scott and Adam shared a look. Somehow they did not find this information comforting. Someone would be needed to keep an eye on Chris, as well.
“Look,” Mel said. “We can all figure out who is going where, and work it out that way. I’m planning on heading to Pewter, and I’m pretty certain Matt will, too, since his starter has an automatic advantage there. Let’s look at a map in the lab and plan everything.”
“But how could we convince Matt and Alex to do what we want?” Scott asked.
“If you act like you know what you’re doing and don’t give anyone time to argue you will generally get your way,” Alex said, stalking past the huddled group of four. “Oh, and talking behind their backs is always a good plan.”
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:04:14 GMT -5
Chatper Five: Starting Out
Professor Oak looked down at the small group of children. It was almost eleven, and yet here they all were, in his lab, wanting their new pokemon to be healed. Normally his students would be half way to Viridian by now. However, normally he didn't have such a big class, so he supposed this was only to be expected. He noticed the way Alex and Matt weren't talking. It wasn't Matt's normally surly and quiet disposition, or Alex's rather haughty disdain of people who weren't him, that was causing the cold silence, either. They were, as children sometimes do, Not Talking, with capital letters. Scott was the unofficial spokesman, saying something mumbled about having had a few practice battles, and now could he please heal their pokemon? "Of course, if you'll just hand them over," Professor Oak said, noticing that only the girl - whatsherface - had her pokemon out of her pokeball. Five pokeballs made it to the healing machine. The girl shook her head when he asked her if her squirtle needed it. "He's fine, but Raindancer doesn't have much psi energy left," was her statement. The pokeballs were returned soon afterwards, and Oak moved to read the print out. He double-checked astonished. "It says here that Mr. Drakan's bulbasaur had third degree burns on her face!" he exclaimed. "None of your pokemon knows any elemental moves yet." "Check again sir," Alex said politely. "Corazon learned ember at the end of our practice battle." "But, it says here she fainted." "Yes, sir. Matt's bulbasaur defeated her honorably," Alex said, surprisingly calmly, and even genuinely. "She is a great credit to her trainer." "Well, well," Oak mumbled. "Pokemon have started to evolve faster than normal, and in strange ways, too, recently. It happens about once every 100 years, or so. It's a cyclic thing, apparently. Pokemon evolution takes great leaps and bounds for some reason. We seem to be coming into one of those times," he seemed to be speaking more to himself. However, his audience grew restless and he remembered that he was still among real people. The professor cleared his throat self consciously. "Ahem, keep me apprised of anything else out of the norm. I don't study the historical matters of pokemon evolution, usually, but what is happening in the here and now is of great interest to me, and I have a colleague who could use any information you gather." They nodded solemnly, probably not hearing one word in ten. The pokemon of the known regions were well documented and surveyed. He knew the same was true in Orre, and the other regions connected to Orre, and that the three isles of Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn, were merely not as well connected with those to the south. There was no need for trainers to gather new information. There were always new things for scientists to document, but training was now a sport, only. They had no idea about collecting research. "Very well, you may go," the professor sighed. They trooped out of the lab, blinking in the bright sunshine. It was hard to believe that it was not even lunch time yet, so much had happened. "So," Scott began, getting out his pokedex, and flipping open to the holographic map. "Where are we planning to go? I mean, we've all agreed to go to Viridian, but then I suppose we'll be splitting up, since not all of our starters are ideal for taking on Pewter." "I'll be going to Cerulean," Adam volunteered, "but the fastest way is through Mount Moon, and coming down from the north. Although I'll not be challenging Pewter, I'm going by there. Anyone else?" "Well, Matt and I have the best chance at Pewter, so why don't we keep you company?" Mel asked, getting a startled look from Matt. However, before he could object, Alex cut in. "I'll be going cross country to cycling road, and then Celadon. From there I don't know." "Well, I was planning on Celadon, too, so mind if I tag along?" Scott asked. Alex gave him a look which stated quite plainly that yes, he did mind, but said simply, "Whatever you wish." "I'll be off to Fuchsia," Chris explained, "So I'll be with you until you reach cycling road." "Excellent," Scott turned off the map, and his pokedex. "Shall we meet in Viridian for dinner and compare what we've caught?" A variety of nods and shrugs when around the circle. Scott stood up, and shouldered his pack. For someone with a pokemon who was allergic to daylight he was quite cheerful. He set off down the road, leading to the fields between Pallet and Viridian. Alex soon followed, and Chris went after him. Adam was busy tying his shoelaces, Mel passed him. Matt, however, caught up with her, and pulled her to the side. "What did you mean, "Matt and I have the best chance at Pewter?" Who are you to arrange things?" He asked, obviously annoyed. "Sorry, I just assumed - well, with your bulbasaur, it made sense," Mel lied, realizing, a little too late, that their meddling probably wasn't the best thing, even if they had meant well. "Well, don't assume next time, okay?" He said beginning to walk away. "So, you're not going to Pewter then?" Mel called after him. He turned back. "You were right, it's the most logical choice. Of course I have to go." Matt continued walking, then, bringing out his pokeball, and tossing it up and down dissolutely. "What was that about?" Adam asked as he jogged up to the stationary Mel, and Lapis. "He wanted to make it clear that I wasn't to interfere with his plans," Mel answered. "C'mon, I want to get catching things." Adam grinned, his pichu perched on his shoulder, rather than his head this time. "Bolt has the advantage over the Bubblebrain, here, you know. Most of the pokemon between Pallet and Viridian are birds." "Hey, I might find an ekans. It's late enough in the summer for them," Mel replied. "And there were some sightings of jigglypuff recently. Not to mention the multitude of rattata." "Well, you're not going to catch anything before lunch at this rate," Adam grinned, before beginning to jog along the road. "Last one to catch a pokemon is a rotten egg, Wash Pot!" Laughing, Mel followed, with Lapis bringing up the rear, thoroughly convinced that humans were insane. ~~~ ((Part One Ends Here. On to Part Two))
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:04:53 GMT -5
((Part Two))
Melamine licked her lips. There it was; her first pokemon, a pidgey. She poked Lapis's shell, and pointed. Getting out her pokedex was an automatic action, she needed to know the stats, and whether to capture, or not. Mel had turned off the voice, preferring to read the information as it scrolled across the screen, and not scare any wild pokemon.
Proto_Holo_Prog Activated flashed across the screen. A flash of light made Mel shield her eyes, as the pidgey looked up in alarm. "Pidgey, the small bird pokemon. This pidgey has a high attack, and high special defense, fair speed, low special attack, and low defense," a mechanical voice told Mel. She was looking up at a flickering genderless person, with black hair, and deep purple eyes. He (she?) was being projected from the pokedex like the holographic maps, and three-D layouts. "Suggested move combination, tail whip, then tackle," it continued. The pidgey had already scuttled into the grass as the hologram was speaking. "How do I turn you off?" Mel wanted to know desperately. "Just tell me to turn off," was the mechanical reply. "When you stop for lunch perhaps I can introduce you to my wide range of features." "Turn off," Mel said, before sighing. That thing had scared off her first pokemon. This was not a good start. "C'mon, Lapis, let's catch at least one pokemon before we stop for lunch. Which way did the pidgey go?" The turtle looked up at Mel and shook his head. Why bother going after the bird? The pidgey hadn't done them any harm. Mel, however, took this as a "no I didn't see which way the pidgey went" rather than the refusal it was. "Oh well, we can continue searching then," Mel said, starting off. Lapis hit is broad forehead, and called after Mel: "That's not what I meant!" However, since Lapis could only speak pokemon, and Mel could only listen in bewilderment, all she heard was "Squir, squirt, squir!" They waded through the tall grass of the field. There was a road that wound carefully around the natural pokemon habitat, however once someone got into the thick blades of vaguely yellowed grass the field seemed to become an endless ocean. The other young trainers were all lost to view. "Yarghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Mel jumped at the sound of the strangled scream close by. She ran in the direction of the sound, Lapis following less easily on his stubby legs. A pidgey rushed out of the grass straight for them. It stopped in a flurry of sand, not certain where to run to, or whether it should fight. Mel reacted instantly. "Lapis, tail whip!" The pidgey at that moment decided to rush the human and the squirtle, on the basis that anything was better than staying to face whatever had made that feral scream. Lapis, on seeing the feathered pokemon bearing down on him lost all of his scruples, and pivoted to smack the pidgey in the face with his blue, curled tail. The bird tumbled backwards head over tail feathers. "Finish it off with a tackle!" Mel said, as Lapis rushed for the disoriented pidgey. He hit the pokemon straight on, and knocked it to the ground where it lay, fainted. Mel didn't bother catching it, however. She ran for the source of the noise. There was a small clearing in the grass, and Chris was trying to crabwalk away from the flickering hologram standing above him, telling him the stats of pidgey. "Turn off," Mel said. "Voice print not recognized," the machine replied. "The pidgey are omnivores, eating almost anything that comes to hand, perfering nuts and berries - for the most part - over bugs as opposed to their cousins, spearow, who prefer meat. They are scavengers, rather than predators. However they are not as voracious as murkrow, nor as vicious as spearow." "Tell it to turn off, Chris," Mel told her obviously shocked friend. Raindancer was teleporting around the hologram, trying to kick at it, only to pass through the photons. "Turn off?" Chris tried. "Thank you for using me. Perhaps when you next break for lunch I can tell you about my useful features," the genderless hologram replied, switching off. "That was weird!" Chris said, struggling to rise, and pick up his pokedex. "Good thing I didn't check out the stats of that ekans before I battled it." "It scared away my first pokemon," Mel admitted. "Who would put such a stupid function on a pokedex?" Chris wanted to know. "Is there anyway that we could turn it off for good?" "I guess we'll find out when we check out the other useful features," Mel shrugged. "I don't even know how to turn them on again. Anyway, how did your battle with the ekans go?" This part of Chris' day sounded far more interesting than the weird hologram. "It was sweet! I let Raindancer do her thing. The teleport combined with a kick flail kind of thing isn't very powerful, but she can keep it going for so long, and nothing can touch her," Chris gushed. "I caught the ekans once he fainted. I don't really need to catch anything else. I was considering catching a pidgey, or a spearow, just because bird pokemon are so useful, but I don't think so. I probably will catch a nidoran once we reach Viridian however. The path to Victory Road is littered with them. True it would have been easier to catch them in the spring, but I'll probably find at least one." "Nice," Mel agreed. "Has Raindancer learned anything new yet?" "Not really," Chris admitted, "But look!" He pulled up a few grass stems. Raindancer landed next to Chris. She then opened her large eyes, which glowed electric blue, and raised her hands. Three of the grass blades vanished, to reappear two inches away from the pile. "Cool," Mel said politely, not certain what good that would be. "Yeah, it's pretty intense," Chris said. "I mean, it takes a ton of concentration to teleport stuff that you aren't directly touching. So, how many pokemon have you caught?" "None," Mel replied. "But I haven't had much luck finding them." "Hey, that happens sometimes. How about battles?" "One, with the pidgey you were thinking about capturing. It's probably flown away now. I should have captured it when it fainted." "Well, that's cool," Chris told her. "Why don't we check out the useful features? There's nothing else to do. After that I can take you to where I saw a spearow nest." "Yeah, but how do we tell the pokedexes to turn on the useful feature section?" Mel wanted to know. Lapis nearly hit his head in exasperation at the slowness of his humans on the up take. Raindancer had begun sleeping again, so he prodded her.
Hey, did I ask you to wake me Bubblebrain? The psychic asked, her mental voice thick with sleep. I need to rebuild my psychic reserves, you know.
Look, where's the nearest wild pokemon? Lapis repiled with brusque thoughts to the psychic type, ignoring Raindancer's grumbling.
It's a group of rattata five feet into the grass over there, Raindancer told him, picking up on his plan, as she over heard the humans trying to reactivate the holograms by banging on their pokedexes. Teleport into the middle of them, at least one ought to run this - but Raindancer had already left before Lapis could finish his orders. A raucous chorus of chattering scolding errupted from the grass and three rattata burst into the open. Mel and Chris whirled, their pokedexes opening automatically, and the holograms appearing next to the machines, talking in a monotone. The rattata did not look amused to find strangers in their field, moreover, strangers with talking boxes that wouldn't shut up. They charged forward, beady eyes narrowed, and the biggest of the three looking at the packs on the trainer's backs with interest. Lapis jumped in front of his trainer and her friend, whirling around with a tail whip, knocking all three rodents back. Raindancer teleported in a moment later, lashing out with clawed legs while she was in the air. She connected with the big ratatta, as the two smaller, and more agile ones ducked out of the way, and tore towards Lapis. Lapis knocked them back with another tail whip, before charging into the fray himself. One of the small rats ducked expertly, before darting in to slam into one blue leg, trying to catch the water pokemon off balance. Raindancer teleported ontop of Lapis as he fell, knowing it was the only safe place from her opponent's lashing tail and heavy shoulder. Hey! Lapis complained through a mouthful of dirt. What's the big idea? Raindancer didn't answer, teleporting off her partner, and landing squarely on the large rattata's back. He growled as the abra landed, asking for help from his compatriots in a series of squeaking "rat rat ta!" They had Lapis down, however, and weren't going to give up their prize. Both smaller rodents were on the hard smooth shell, scrabling at it, and biting it with as yet undeveloped teeth. Mel acted, commanding Lapis: "Roll over!" He pushed into the ground with his right set of paws, and his round shell quickly over balanced, sending the rats crashing to earth, his greater weight on top of them. Mel cheered and turned to hug Chris, who was watching the battle between his lighter, nearly defenseless starter and the largest rodent. Raindancer appeared out of nowhere, the next moment, and promptly kicked the rat in the jaw, teleporting back on top of him. The rat had enough, playing the same game as Lapis he rolled, forcing Raindancer to teleport off. Looking around he decided that the food was too well guarded, and at least one of his cronies was out for the count. Lapis had risen from his victims, and only one was skulking painfully back to the shrubbery. The large rodent followed suit as he saw Chris take out one of the dreaded capture balls and enlarge it. Chris threw it at the fainted rattata as Mel sent another one after the fleeing leader. Her face went bright red as the pokeball landed in the grass three feet to the left of her intended quarry. Obviously her aim was a little off. The tall grass swished as the last pokemon made good his escape. She turned to see Chris picking up the pokeball he had thrown with a satisfied look on his face. The holograms on their pokedexes were still activated, but silent now, as there was nothing to document. Chris stowed his rattata away, before turning to Mel. "Not exactly what I'm interested in, but if I train him up a bit do you think I could get a good trade for him?" "Possibly," Mel said, "but rattata aren't really rare. You won't be able to get much unless you meet a breeder who likes his stats." "True, hey, which one did you catch?" Chris wanted to know. "None of them," Mel sighed. "I missed." "You missed?!" Chris began laughing. "Hey! It's not funny!" Mel said, going red again. "Oh yes it is!" Chris hooted. "How can you miss? Pokeballs are designed to home in on fainted, or wounded wild pokemon. What did you do? Throw it behind you?" "It landed right over there," Mel said pointing to the offending grass. Lapis wallked over and picked it up solemnly, before handing it back to his trainer. Mel put the pokeball back in her pack with a sigh. "I need throwing lessons. At this rate the only pokemon I will have is one stupid enough to touch a pokeball's capture button." Lapis crossed his arms, and said something in pokespeech. <i>And me. </i>Raindancer translated. Mel smiled, "of course, and you. At least we haven't yet lost a battle." "Hey, I resemble that remark!" Chris said indignantly. "Would you like the holographic program to turn off?" questioned one of the holograms before Mel to retort. "Y or N?" continued the other. "N!" Mel exclaimed. "We have some questions for you. How can we turn you on without flushing out wild pokemon?" "Say turn on," her hologram replied. "Okay," Chris said, looking as if they should have known that, "so what were the useful features you were mentioning?" "1. Turn on options: a) Proto_Holo_Prog activates at wild pokemon sightings. On. b) Proto_Holo_Prog activates to the command turn on. On. "2. Turn off options: a) Proto_Holo_Prog turns off after delivering information. Off. b) Proto_Holo_Prog deactivates when command turn off is used. On "3. Personality options: a) nuetral. On. b) friendly. Off. c) caring. Off. d) curious. Off. e) cheerful. Off. "4. physical appearance options: a) gender: a1) female. Off. a2) male. Off. a3) androgenous. On. b) body type: b1) ectomorphic. On. b2) endomorphic. Off. b3) mesomorphic. Off. c) hair color: c1) black. On. c2) red. Off. c3) blonde. Off. d) hair style: d1) short. On. d2) long. Off. e) eye color: e1) blue. Off. e2) purple. On. e3) red. Off. f) clothing: f1) shirts: f1a) t-shirt. Off. f1b) sweatshirt. Off. f1c.) turtleneck. On. f2) pants. On. f3) footwear: f3a) sneakers. Off. f3c) sandals. Off. f3d) boots. On. g) color: g1) shirt: g1a) black. On. g1b) blue. Off. g1c.) red. Off. g2) pants: g2a) black. On. g2b) blue. Off. g2c.) red. Off. g3) footwear: g3a) black. On. g3b) blue. Off. g3c.) red. Off. h) skin tone: h1) pale. On. h2) medium. Off. h3) olive. Off. h4) dark. Off. "You may sort through, and choose different options in your pokedex," the hologram finished. Mel and Chris blinked. "Um," Mel began, searching through the list that had popped up on her display screen, "Disable 1a, please?" "Of course," the hologram said, and filekered, as it adjusted its settings. "Wow, you mean that worked?" Chris said, before repeating the command to his hologram. "And when you're done, turn off." His hologram flickered out of existance. Mel was still scrolling through options. "Mind if I get out lunch?" Chris asked. "Fine with me," Mel replied absently. "Okay, disable 3a, and enable 3 - d. Yes, I think d will be the best. And, um, the andro-gen-yous thing is a little weird. Disable 4a3, and enable 4a - er, 2? Sorry, but I'm just not used to the idea of a female pokedex function. And the eyes, what do the blue look like?" Mel wanted to know. "Blue?" asked her now male hologram. "What command is that? I'll try to remember it for next time, but I don't know a blue command." "Oh, right," Mel looked at the screen. "Disable 4e2, and enable 4e1." The irises of the hologram swirled, losing their purple hue, and becoming a vivid azure. Mel had to look away, the glow was so intense. "Akk! Go back to purple! Go back to purple!" "Purple is 4e2, I take it?" the hologram asked. "Yes," Mel told him. The hologram nodded, and his eyes became purple again. Mel grinned. This was kind of fun. He seemed to be catching on, quickly. The hologram grinned back. "Want to try 4e3?" "Um, sure," Mel looked down at the display. "Yeah, I'd kind of like to see what red eyes look like." Blue drained from the purple, until the irises were the rich deep red of pomegranet seeds. With his black get up, and black hair, the red eyes actually suited the hologram, in Mel's opinion. The hologram was no taller than she was when she stood on her tiptoes. He looked rather like her father's mischeious houndour with the grin twitching at the sides of his mouth. "You need a name," Mel decided. "How does Chrono Hermes sound?" "What would the name be used for?" Chrono asked. "Um, so you could be different from all of the other pokedex holograms. Names identify people?" Mel suggested after five minutes worth of standing still at a loss. "Oh," the hologram said, as in the background, Chris snorted into the sandwich he had unwrapped, and was chewing thoughtfully. "It's just a machine, Mel," Chris said. "They don't have thoughts or feelings. They don't understand the concept of names, except in binary. And why did you name it after your father's guard houndour?" "He looks a bit like Chrono," Mel defended. "I don't see it," Chris shared a laugh with Raindancer. Lapis snuck the lettuce out of Chris's sandwich, and bit into it. He didn't understand the humans that had appeared out of thin air, but he didn't like the psychic boy's tone with his trainer. "Should I turn off now?" Chrono asked. "Yeah, turn off," Mel told him. She sat between Chris and Lapis, and dug her lunch out of her pack. Chris watched as she shifted around her different items. "What have you got in there? The Celdon Department Store?" he asked. "I just believe in being prepared," Mel replied. "I've got five pokeballs, two great balls, an antidote, a paralyze cure, an awakening, some bitter berries, one full restore, a couple of potions, no more burn heal, since I gave mine to Matt, remind me to get another one when we reach Viridian." "Mel, Lapis isn't likely to get burned! He's a water type, remember?" Chris exclaimed. "And I've got to get some rope," Mel concluded. "Why? Not planning on any mountain climbing this soon, are you?" Chris asked in a tone of voice that clearly didn't want to know. "You never know what could happen," Mel defended her preparedness. "How are you managing to carry all that?" Chris wanted to know, "and your squirtle has swiped your lettuce." "It's not heavy. The egg is the heaviest thing," Mel told him. "And my lettuce is still here, see?" she opened her sandwich. Lapis swallowed the last tail end of Chris's lettuce, before snagging Mel's lettuce from the open sandwich. Mel sighed at the same time as Chris. "I just can't win," the commented unanimously, before yelling "Jinx!" at the same time. They glared at one another. "I said it first!" both children yelled. "Jinx!" Ten minutes, and a final agreement to a mutual pinch, later Chris asked to see the egg. Mel brought out the incubator. Chris looked at the shell. "It's really pretty," he observed. "It's a lot rougher than it looks," Mel replied. "I don't know what it's going to be, sadly. My mother wasn't there to tell me." "You don't have to tell me," Chris rolled his eyes, handing the thick cylider of the incubator back to Mel. "Mom was never home." "Your foster mom?" Mel asked, putting the cylinder back on her pack. It was common knowledge that Chris was from the Viridian orphange. "No, Mrs. Farra's always there. Mom," Chris shrugged, rising. "She was always running around, trying to find "special trainers." She spent more time them than she did with us. I mean it was great that she would - some of those kids were pretty freaky, and probably needed her, but I can relate to the over working parents syndrome." "Yeah," Mel said, rising as well. You know, Raindancer commented, one of the ironies of this is you would be one of the "special trainers," Rivermind. "I wish you wouldn't call me that," Chris told her. "It's impossible for someone to be taken seriously when they're named "Rivermind." How many famous trainers are going to admit to the name Rivermind? I ask you. Can you see Koga being called Rivermind?"
A poison using ninja is hardly a good example. Look at Will of the Johto Elite Four, now he's what I call a great trainer. "He wears a mask all the time, afraid to show his face," Chris scoffed. "Next you'll be telling me to emulate Sabrina." You could do a lot worse! Raindancer sounded extremely annoyed. "Worse?! She went insane over ten years ago and <i>killed</i> people! Sure, people say she's all better now, but she's still a freak!" Chris yelled back at his partner. And so are you! Or have you conveiently forgotten that you have psychic powers as well?! Raindancer's voice exploded in their minds. Mel and Lapis were looking at one another. "Um, should we go somewhere else?" Mel asked. Don't bother. Rivermind, we'll discuss this later! Raindance promised, fuming as she returned herself to her pokeball. Chris breathed out. "Well, I promised to show you where some spearow were nesting, didn't I? C'mon." Mel shrugged to Lapis, and then continued walking with Chris. "What are you going to do now that Raindancer isn't talking to you? I mean, if a wild pokemon ambushes you?" Mel asked. "She'll come out to protect me, besides the rattata and the ekans I caught should probably have enough health left to help me in a pinch. However, once I show you the nest, I'll leaving for Viridian and the pokemon center," Chris promised his friend. "Alright, thanks," Mel told him. They walked through the long grass, listening to the chirp of pigeys and the far off hum of beedrill wings over the flowers in the gardens of Pallet. The yellow and green blades rustled ocasionally, parting before the two, and closing in behind them with reassuring swishing sounds. The sun beamed down on them between fluffy white clouds against the azure sky. It was the perfect late summer day, warm and lazy. In two weeks there would be a chill in the air, as autumn made its scheduled appearance. However, two weeks was a long time, when summer was concerned, and there was always the possibility of an Indian summer. None of these thoughts engaged the two children, however. Mel was on the look out for any pokemon to battle, wanting to increase Lapis' strength. She was also surruptitiously trying to practice throwing motions for pokeballs. Chris was looking for the tall elm tree. Tall trees dotted the landscape, but the elm was where the spearow had made their nests. "Hey," he finally told Mel. "It's over there." The tree that he pointed to had a spearow sitting in the branches, and Mel nodded. "Alright, Lapis, let's do this," she told him, moving closer to the tree, as Chris waved a farewell, and ran off through the grass.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:08:23 GMT -5
Chapter Six: Challenges
Lapis was less sanguine about the prospect of fighting a whole bunch of spearow. Spearow were annoyingly aggressive. They reminded Lapis of the charmander Corazon, and the boy with the bulbasaur. He hardly wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon fighting them. He was feeling much stronger after the earlier battles, however, where there was one visible spearow there were twenty invisible ones.
“Alright,” Mel still had some bread left from her sandwich. She crumbled a bit of it, and dropped it under the tree. “Here, birdy, birdy, birdy!”
The spearow on the branch chirped, and then swooped onto the bread.
Mel grinned. “Lapis, tail whi—,”
The tree rustled and spearow poured out, falling upon their comrade, and the piece of bread he held in his beak. A few saw what was left of the crust in Mel’s hand. The flapped after her, with glints in their eyes. Mel did the only sensible thing she could. She flung the bread away, and ran in the other direction, Lapis following her with commendable speed.
She stopped several yards away, and sat down with a sigh. Lapis sat down with her. “So, what do we do now?” Mel asked. “I only wanted one at ground level.”
Lapis shrugged. “Squirt, squirtle,” he said stoically, meaning, “it’s probably all for the best.”
“Yeah,” Mel agreed. “Hey, that’s a good idea. Okay, Chrono, on, got any suggestions?”
The hologram flickered into life, repeating Lapis’s exasperated response to “Hey, that’s a good idea”: “Squir, squirt, squir. Vocal processing, and analysis commencing,” Chrono paused. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Huh?” Mel asked.
“Your squirtle just said ‘that’s not what I meant,’” Chrono explained his actions.
Mel looked embarrassed.
“Anyway, you needed me?” Chrono asked.
“Er, yeah,” Mel told him. “Look, see that flock of spearow over there?”
Chrono nodded, not looking. “Yes, the pokedex has scanned them.”
“I want to train Lapis against one or two of them, not the whole flock,” Mel told Chrono. “But when I tired using bribes, they all came.”
“And you want to see if I have an idea?” the machine asked brightly.
“Pretty much,” Mel replied.
“Squir squirt-tle, squirtle squirt?” inquired Lapis.
“Why are we doing this anyway? Spearow are loud, annoying, and should be avoided at all costs,” Chrono translated.
“Because I want to make you stronger, Lapis,” Mel explained. “As a trainer’s pokemon you’ll be in lots of fights, and battles with wild pokemon toughen you up for the real thing. The reason why it’s good to train against spearow is because they are aggressive, and quick.”
“Squirtle squir,” the water pokemon grumbled. “Squir, squir, squirtle.”
“I knew I was crazy to have attached myself to a trainer. Alright, let’s do this, then,” Mel was ready to hug whoever programed Chrono with this translating function.
“You mean, you actually want to fight them? I mean, I can completely understand not wanting to, spearow are nasty creatures.”
“Squirtle. Squir squirt, squirtle squirt. Squirt, squir,” Lapis informed her coolly.
“I am a pokemon, you know. Getting stronger is the only way to become an independent person. I am your partner, not your pet,” Chrono relayed, before signalling the he wanted to say something. “And before you two run off to confront the whole flock, the easiest way to get a single spearow is to insult one particular one. The rest of the flock will find it hillarious, and it’s only up to that spearow you insulted to defend his pride.”
“Alright, Lapis, I think I can insult someone, and then you can be my proxy for the challenge,” Mel said, getting up and walking purposely towards the gathered flock. Lapis followed, hopping Mel wasn’t going to get him into a big mess.
At a safe distance from the birds Mel cupped her hands over her mouth, and yelled: “Hey! You oily-feathered buffoon with the chipped beak! That was my bread you stole, you theiving son of a murkrow!”
The bird who had first flown at her crumbs hopped through the grass and glared at her. The other birds reguarded the scene with their heads cocked to one side or the other.
Mel thought fast, looking for new insults. “Anyway, featherbrain, me and my squirtle demand satisfaction!” Okay, so not the best insults, but if they did the job, who cared?
Chrono coughed delicately. “Spearow aren’t known for their sense of honor.”
However, the spearow did feel insulted enough to step forward and screech his name angrily at the sky.
Mel grinned.
“Lapis, tail whip!”
The squirtle stepped in front of his trainer, and spun on one stubby paw to thwack the spearow with his fuzzy tail. The spearow gave voice to an indignant “Row!” as the suprisingly heavy tail slammed into him, knocking away his wind. He pecked the squirtle, his heavy beak bouncing off the smooth armor of the red shell.
“Spin the opposite way for another tail whip!” Mel intructed.
Lapis’ tail crashed into the side of the spearow’s face. As he completed the pivot, turning to face the spearow, the bird leered at him, nearly cross eyed from the recent blow. Lapis just snickered, and then dove at the disoriented creature just as Mel yelled “Tackle!”
The strong attack, on the tail, as it were, of two tail whips, did the trick. The spearow, grounded, lay gasping and heaving on the short grass under the elm tree. His flock jeered at him, as Lapis felt the muscles in his legs build in the aftermath of his dual tail whips. The defeat, now that he had time to savor victory, felt good.
Shadows of clouds were cast over the ground by the bright sun, and Mel felt exhilerated. The wind had picked up, moving the shadows quickly over the field, which meant that it would be harder for spearow, who weren’t strong fliers, to fly.
“Alright, we’ll also fight the peabrained scum who leads this flock!” she exclaimed. “We aren’t afraid.”
A large female and a smaller, but probably more agile male hopped out of the flock. There was fire in both their eyes.
“Spearow leaders usually come in pairs,” Chrono mentioned. “It’s rare for a flock leader not to have a mate, since, as with most pokemon, leading spearow get their choice of mates.”
“Oh,” said Mel weakly.
“Spearow?” the tone of the female was cold and deadly.
“Spear, spear,” added her mate, who seemed more sardonic.
“Squirtle,” Lapis’ voice was contemptous.
Both spearow glared again, and then pouced, fluttering awkwardly in the stiff breeze.
“Tail whi—” Mel began, but Lapis withdrew like lightning into his shell.
The sharp beaks landed on red plate armor, and skidded off, leaving only small scratches on the enamel.
“I would guess that your squirtle knows withdraw. Usually they don’t think to use it in battle until several levels on,” Chrono said in Melamine’s ear.
“Yes, but this isn’t helping him do any damage,” Mel replied. “In fact, those spearow are making their scratches deeper.”
The searow were indeed attacking the divits they had made in their initial assault. Lapis, inside his shell wasn’t budging an inch. The rough armor on his stomach kept him firmly fastened on the ground.
Mel bit her lip. If only he knew some projectile attacks, she could have him squirt water at the spearow while keeping inside his shell. She looked at his bird opponents. Both were fairly bold, now that their target wasn’t fighting back. Mel sized them up, and came to a strategy of sorts.
“Tackle left!” she cried.
Lapis popped out of his shell as quickly as he could and ran sideways on all fours. The lighter male was caught off guard, and Lapis’ tackle lifted him from the ground to slam him into the solid female spearow. They tumbled backward in a ball of feathers, and cawing screeches.
Lapis rushed forward again, delivering a wide sweeping tailwhip as the two lay on the ground, tempting to scramble upright. Wings and beak lashed out at Lapis as he finished the tail whip twirl, scratching the shell plating on his chest.
“Tackle!” Mel was standing in the grass, watching everything, her heart in her mouth.
“Squir,” the tiny turtle confirmed, racing toward the heap and crashing into it.
Feathers exploded into the air. Then Lapis backed up frantically, as a large beak stabbed at him again and again. The female spearow had regained balance on the ground, her eyes bloodshot and angry. Her mate had taken the force of Lapis’s blow and was now out cold.
“Tail, no, bat that beak aside!” Mel screamed, the heat of battle surprising her.
Lapis slapped out with his stubby paw, forcing the savage hooked bill aside, the head turning with it. He got a close look at large orange orb of the bird’s eye, veined with red. Then he rushed forward, delivering a final tackle.
The flock cawed its vexation as the squirtle stepped away from the unconcious bird. Lapis felt much stronger, the air blew over his shell and across his face, reviving and refreshing him. The world seemed to sparkle, even though it was now overcast. He was alive, and the world seemed somehow knew, after the cleansing intesity of the battle. He was covered in scrapes and a few cuts which bled slugishly, yet he knew for a fact that he was invinsible at that moment.
Mel wiped sweat from her brow, and then eyed the jeering flock, where were hopping around, pecking at thin air, shrieking and crying.
“Chrono, do you know why they’re doing that?” Mel wanted to know.
“Um, don’t be too worried. They’re not goning to work themselves into much of a frenzy before --,” the pokedex program stopped when he saw Mel’s face. “Really don’t worry!” he exclaimed. “If the barometric pressure keeps on dropping then they won’t have time to attack.”
Mel was already running to Lapis.
“C’mon, let’s go,” she told him, scooping the turtle up in her arms.
As soon as Mel moved, the floock flapped into the air as one being. Chrono flickered in beside Mel, staying close to the pokedex in her pocket.
“That wasn’t the brightest idea,” he told her conversationally, his image gliding along the grass, although his legs did not move. “Now they’ll chase you just because you ran.”
The caws here getting louder, and Mel picked up her pace. “Really?”
Rain began to fall, heavy warm summer drops, which moved from the skies obeying only gravity. Mel risked a glace behind. The drops, while not pounding or aggressive, were slowing the spearow down.
“Once it gets really heavy they will be unable to fly,” Chrono informed her. His hologram sparked and crackled as the water hit it. “Mind if I shut myself off?” he asked. “The pokedex is waterproof, but it’s using up a lot of energy to keep this hologram stable in the rain.”
“Sure,” Mel panted. “Am I going in the right direction of Viridian?”
Chrono nodded, “Just continue South until you hit the motor road,” he winked out of existance.
Wet grass whipped at Mel’s bare legs as she ran on. The rain worsened, the big fat blobs suddenly deciding to invite friends along, and race to see who could hit the gorund first. Most of the spearow turned back, but there were about five who continued on, battling rain wet feathers.
Mel didn’t understand why they were acting in such a crazy manner, however, the water pokemon in her arms realized that the spearow wanted to challenge them again. It made sense, in the flock hierarchy whoever beat the leaders would become the next leader. So, whoever could beat him would lead the flock.
Mel saw the dip in the medow, and the fence indicating that the road to Viridian cut through this section of the field.
She ran for the fence, jumped it, and came down on the other side of the embankment on her hands and knees. She winced as grit from the pavement embedded itself in her skin, but she leapt up again, and kept on going.
“Hey? Are you alright?!”
Mel skidded to a halt, and turned to see Adam under the sign indicating only a quarter of a mile to Viridian.
He had a pidgey who was ruffling her feathers against the wet, and Bolt who was sparking brightly as he danced a little pichu dance in the downpour.
“I’ve got a couple of spearow on my tail,” Mel told him, letting Lapis down on the ground. Like the pidgey the blue turtle kept his distance from the electric type.
“Hey, no problem,” Adam grinned. “With all this rain, Bolt can make a thundershock.”
The cawing was audible through the pattering of the rain. “Be my guest,” Melamine invited, standing clear of Adam and Bolt, who ran up at his whistle. Noticing that Adam returned his pidgey Mel decided to do the same with Lapis. Even she knew that Pichu’s electric attacks were mostly unpredictable.
The spearow’s shapes were visible through the rain. Only four were left now, and they looked confused, now that they could no longer see Lapis. Adam didn’t give them time for a decision.
“Bolt, thundershock!”
“PiiiiiiCHU!” the little yellow mouse leapt into the air and blasted raw energy from his body. The spearow came down like lead weights. Their bodies landed on the wet pavement with soft sounds, and Bolt landed among them, breathing heavily, his eyes over bright.
“Wow,” Mel admitted, looking.
Adam walked over quickly and scooped the pichu up. “He’ll be out of it for a while until he builds up more energy,” the large boy searched his pockets, and came up with a few squashed berries. These he fed to Bolt, murmuring how brave and powerful the young pokemon was.
Mel released Lapis again. “C’mon, we have to get these birds off the roadway before a car runs into them.”
Her squirtle looked at her as if she was just a little weird, before shrugging.
“After that, we’re going to Viridian in order to get a hot bath,” Mel sighed.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:10:08 GMT -5
Chatper Seven: Rules and Regulations
The rain stayed at a steady down pour as the two humans and three pokemon made the ten minute walk into the city of Viridian. In reality Viridian should not have been called a city, at least, not by the standards of a non-island nation. However, Kanto was merely a good sized region, taking up half of a fair-sized island. Pallet Town should have been known as a village, and Viridian City should have been a town. But, if relative size was used as an indicator, Viridian could be classified as a city, as it had three entirely different neighborhoods, and more than one general store. Also, it was home to a gym, which granted it immediate city status.
At the moment the shining green city was a foggy grey, the summer rain doing its best to wash things clean and sparkling for when the sun came out from behind the cloud. Mist rolled in the streets, hugging anyone who walked down them, obviously eager for company, as most people had gone inside.
A few cars drove past Adam and Mel, splashing them with dirty water. Neither of them had remembered to pack an unbrella. Mel felt defeated. After all the careful packing of the pokemon supplies, she had comepletely forgotten her own human needs.
Adam’s pidgey, huddled on his shoulder, chirped miserably. Adam occassionally reached his finger up to pet the bird, named Dive. Adam already had one or two spots on his t-shirt from the bird’s need to do what birds need to do. Bolt lay in Adam’s arms, exhausted.
Lapis, in comparison, was bright and bouncy in the soggy weather. He yelled angrily after the cars that splashed him, and walked steadily through the town, with his head held high, looking about him with interest.
The red roof of the pokemon center was lit up, and not too far from the road. They headed toward it, wondering how late it really was. The darkness of the sky made it seem like night, but Mel was certain she had been eating lunch only a few hours ago.
“Hey, who’s out there?” by the fenced outdoor eating area of the pokemon center, someone, two someones, were moving, looking out into the rain soaked world.
Thinking that it could only be a couple of the other new trainers from pallet Mel called: “It’s us, me’n Adam.”
“Huh? I don’t know of any rangers named Adam.”
They got closer, and saw two older trainers, one had to be eleven, and the boy behind him was at least fourteen. They both wore serviceable clothes that were a variety of muted greens, browns, and greys. Mel happened to notice, with a bit of jealousy, that their clothes were water proof, with little droplets beading on them, and they both had escape ropes coiled at their waists.
“They must be some of the new trainers from Pallet,” remarked the older of the two. “C’mon, we’ve got to help Jo set up, and they look like drowned poochyena.”
“Aw, Jack, I could gain some experience off them. Please?”
“No, Rusty. Look at the big one’s pokemon. They’re tired out. I don’t think these kids have had their partners for more than a day,” the older boy said emphatically, turning to go inside.
“I’ll fight,” Mel said. “Lapis hasn’t got anything better to do, and he could use some more experience.”
“All right!” Rusty grinned.
Jack looked disapproving. “She’s new to this. Don’t you even think about using your roselia.”
“What’s that?” Mel asked out of the corner of her mouth. Adam shrugged.
“I’m not certain what a poochyena is, either. They’re probably from Johto.”
“Hoenn, actually,” Jack said. “Alright, I’ll referee this. Rusty,” he glanced significantly at the young boy. The boy looked annoyed, but nodded. “No pokemon above level ten, got that? Two on two match, begin.”
Mel gulped. Well, Lapis would have to be good enough to take out two pokemon. For some reason she didn’t want to admit to these worldly boys that she hadn’t been able to capture a single pokemon.
“Don’t worry,” Rusty told her, enlarging a pokeball. “I’ll go easy on you first round. I chose Jeremy!”
A ragged moth-like pokemon burst from the pokeball. Its compound eyes glittered in the rain, while the glider-like wings moved slowly.
“Jeremy?” Mel tried not to giggle, pokemon weren’t usually named with human names.
“Rusty,” Jack gritted his teeth, “Jeremy is an evolved pokemon.”
“Yes, but he’s my lowest level non-grass type, and he only just evoleved. Or would you think it fairer that I start her squirtle out on Lila?” Rusty complained.
“I’m fine with it,” Mel said huridly. “More points to Lapis if he wins, after all.”
Lapis walked solidly onto the field. “Squirtle.”
“Dus dust tox,” the large bug replied.
“Confusion!” Rusty exclaimed.
“Withdraw!” Mel told Lapis, her voice shaking. Bugs weren’t supposed to learn psychic attacks!
Lapis was already popping into his shell. The dustox’s eyes glowed magenta and the round shell was lifted off the ground a little way, and then pounded back into the pavement.
“Okay, now jump and tackle!” Mel commanded.
Lapis popped from his shell, and attempted to attack the bug pokemon. Jeremy merely flew higher, and watched as Lapis fell back to earth, landing hard on stubby legs. The poison moth then unleashed a barage of poison stings at Rusty’s command.
Lapis withdrew, feeling the little stings break against his strong shell.
Rain pattered down from the sky, and Jeremy landed on the lit up sign of the pokemon center, flapping his wings only occassaionally to shake the water off. He personally didn’t think much of his partner’s choice of weather for a battle. Why not use one of his precious grass types who actually enjoyed getting wet?
Plus, it was a stand off, as long as that squirtle had his withdraw ability. Jeremy’s confusion attack was not very powerful. He just didn’t have the reserves of mental energy to do it very often. Unless he managed to hit a crack in the shell with his poison sting, which was unlikely in this weather, they would be there all night.
Lapis was thinking the very same thing too. They had met in the first round of battle, and been equal. He couldn’t hit the moth, and the moth couldn’t do him damage. This was not an ideal set up.
If only he knew water gun. Or bubble. He could pour water from his mouth, but he didn’t have the reserves of water in his body to ensure that he could keep up a sustained jet.
No, it was a stand off, and it could only be broken if one of them came closer. Those poison stings took accuracy to aim, and the confusion was weak. Lapis could make it, if he was clever.
Both young trainers attempted to form a strategy as well. Mel bit her lip, aware of the cool rain, and her wish to be in the warm center. Rusty was likewise occupied, and a little surprised that so young a squirtle had learned withdraw.
Jack and Adam looked on, Adam somehow feeling that this was wrong. Battles should be quick paced as lightning strikes, not this slow confusion.
Jack was eyeing both pokemon with vague concern. He was beginning to think that it should have been Jeremy who he should have worried about having a disadvantage. The bug pokemon’s wings were not handling well in the down pour, and once Rusty made the inevitable call for the pokemon to move from the light, Jeremy might get a pulled muscle from their rain drenched weight.
“Harden!” Rusty finally commanded.
Jeremy’s eyes dimmed. The sound of drops falling on his exoskeleton changed perceptibly, and he glistened in the wet more than ever.
“Tackle!” Rusty grinned in triumph. With his body harder Jermy could push the ensconced Lapis into something nasty. The nearest lamp post looked inviting.
Mel smiled slightly in the gloom. This was just like dealing with Raindancer, after all. “Wait for it, Lapis. Remember Raindancer.”
The moth dropped from the sign, fluttering heavily before stabilizing himself, and zooming forward to hit the squirtle.
“NOW!” Mel screamed, excitement filling her.
Lapis popped from his shell, and launched himself at the dustox. They smashed together with a crunch. Then Jeremy pulled away, cracks like darker veins marred his shining exoskeleton. Lapis fell to earth on his back. The turtle was breathing heavily, but he rolled himself upright, definance shining in his eyes. Jeremy labored back up to the sign.
He smirked to himself, as he heard his trainer ask for harden. Pushing with all his mental energy he forced his shell to become whole again, like an athelete flexing a muscle. Without a command to guide him Jeremy launched himself from the sign once again, his mouth open as he spat poison stings right into the turtle’s smirking face.
Lapis grimaced as he felt the pins sink into his skin, seemly eating away at his flesh with their burning intesity. Pain filled him, and he felt something bubble inside his mouth. He spat, and realized that it was his tongue that was covered in little boils. He must have swallowed a few of the needles on accident.
Jeremy flicked his wings back and forth on the light, looking pleased with himself. The tackle had been harsh, and he was tired, but he would win again for Rusty. He was good at winning.
Mel ran to approach her squirtle, who was doing his best not to move. The pain wasn’t so bad if he just stood still.
“Hey, off the field!” Jack exclaimed. “If you have an item to administer to a pokemon you have to make the pokemon come to you.”
Mel looked up, a startled stantler caught in the metaphorical headlights of the rules. “But he’s poisoned, he can’t move!” she exclaimed, trying to see reason.
“That’s his problem,” Jack told her. “It’s dangerous for trainers to go out on the field during battle. After the Johto League fiasco three years ago the regions got together and made the rule. Now back to the sidelines.”
Lapis risked a glare at the older human as Mel reluctantly scuttled back to her end of the “field.” Anger and pain bubbled through his system in an uncomforting fizz of heat. He clamped his jaws shut, allowing the beaky protrusion of his upper lip to bite into his lower one. Something uncoiled inside his stomach – he hoped that it wasn’t his small intestine – as he looked up at the moth on the light.
Jeremy was flicking his wings idly, watching Lapis, and waiting for the squirtle to be finifhed off by the poison. It couldn’t be too long now. The moth was wondering what kind of treat Rusty would give him once the battle was over. A cheri berry, maybe? Something nice and spicy to drive away the cold of the water.
Lapis growled to himself, watching the complacent bug. It was insulting that he wouldn’t even bother tackling Lapis to finish the job. However, there was no way that the squirtle could get at the bug now.
Clarity suddenly bubbled up inside him. Realization so pure and fervent that he was amazed it didn’t knock him over. Water gushed into his mouth dredged up from storing places in his stomach and cheeks. He coated the insides of his lips with the liquid, opened his mouth and then blew. Frothy bubbles escaped, most flowing over his chin, but a few burst from the appature as if they had been thrown.
“Tox!” Jeremy was knocked from his perch on the lighted sign by the force of the bubbles that reached him.
He fluttered down, rain heavy wings unable to bear him in flight. Landing in a puddle, he began to struggle, trying to shed water form his wings and body, the heavy drops meaning the difference between victory and defeat.
Lapis stepped deliberately toward the strange bug pokemon. Pain jolted through him at every movement, and his vision was blurry by the time that he was in striking distance of the dustox.
He had intended a final tackle, his victory statement before he keeled over from exhaustion. However, Lapis completed step two before managing step one. The crunch as he crashed down on the dustox was audible above the ceaseless patter of the rain.
Mel returned him hurridly, as Rusty scooped up Jeremy in a flash of red.
“Go, Lila!” he exclaimed, and a small green pokemon stood in Jeremy’s place.
Rusty was excited, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes sparkling. He was grinning widely at Mel.
“C’mon, bring out your next pokemon, this has been great so far!”
“I – I,” Mel stuttered, feeling ashamed, feeling like The Girl. “Lapis is the only one I have.”
Rusty sighed. He took the statement at face value, not even remembering that in order to get here Mel had to walk through a field of wild pokemon and should have been able to catch at least one.
“Oh well, I suppose I can’t be wasting my time out here in the rain. Jo will skin us. Hey, you two should come up to the communication center upstairs after four thirty. We’re going to have this big presentation – it’ll be cool.”
He waved and walked back inside.
“Nice people,” Adam commented from the side lines. “But get Lapis checked over. I’ve heard dustox venom is pretty awful.”
“Yeah, I – Oh!” Mel ran after Rusty and Jack, managing to catch the older trainer. “I have money! I forgot to tell you. How much do I owe you for the battle?”
“Don’t bother,” Jack waved it away.
“But, it’s the rules --,” Mel began.
“Look, unless you name the sum before the battle starts everyone ignores it. Only tournaments and gym leaders stick to that old take half of everything that the trainer has on them rule. Your money should go into buying an umbrella,” the older trainer grinned. “See ya around, I’ve got to make certain that my little brother doesn’t do something to totally piss off Jo.”
He left Mel half in the pokemon center feeling confused. “Hey, Adam, do you know what piss off means?”
“My Dad sometimes says it when he wants to get rid of door-to-door salesmen,” Adam shrugged, as he walked in and up to the counter. “I guess it means go away.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” the shorter trainer tagged up with Adam.
He shrugged and then tapped on the counter. The nurse-vet came out of the back room. As per their lesson on People Who Can Help You, the older woman was wearing the startched white apron of her profession, and sensible denist’s office pink scrubs. She surveyed the two with a kindly smile.
“If you would just hand over your pokeballs, please, we can get your pokemon rested and restored,” she stold them in the gentle tones of a pediatrician, or training child psychologist.
Some people thought that the League approved vet-RNs sounded like vapid idiots, and others trusted them on sight. The rather sacarinne, motherly attitude was encouraged simply because if you didn’t trust someone who was medically repsonsible for you and your pokemon things would go badly. A kind motherly persona and a few catch phrases was all that was needed to maintain the charisma.
Sometimes they were called “Joys;” not only because of the happy go lucky aura that they attempted with varying degrees of success to exude, but because of a popular television satire about their world, where all of the RNs were cute, sexy and identical twins all named Joy. “General Pokemon Center” was a popular program ten years ago, and now eveyone used the nickname, whether they had seen the TV show, or not.
Some said that the term was derogatory, and made to make people think that the vet-RNs were silly, strawberry blond bimbos. However, the name stuck, even though the RNs were highly competant and qualified. These women were trained for emergency situations, involing pokemon injuries, and a small bit of human medicine as well. It was a life that required a little bit of everything, and the motto, coinciding with the boy scouts, was “always be prepared.”
The children relinquished their pokeballs automatically into her waiting hands. She rewarded them with another smile, light sparkling from her brown eyes.
“You’re from Pallet?” she asked, placing the pokeballs on a tray specially built to hold them. “Some of your yearmates already came in, they’re over by the window. I should,” she was now running the tray through a scanner of some kind, “have the pichu and pidgey ready in a few minutes. Your squirtle, dear,” she addressed herself to Melamine directly, “won’t be up and about until two hours from now. Why don’t you go talk to your friends while you’re waiting?”
Mel and Adam nodded obediantly, and walked over to the indicated window. There was a booth, like that of a café, and Mel realized that the view was right onto the courtyard where she had been battling. Alex was sitting , taking the corner nearest the window, watching the rain that streaked down outside. Matt was staring silently ahead, his arms crossed. Both Scott and Chris were comparing notes, Chris with an ekans wrapped around his arm.
Scott noticed Mel and Adam first, and waved. “Hey, the last stragglers are here! What did you guys catch?”
Adam slid on the bench next to Alex, and Mel followed, sitting next to Adam. “I’ve got a pigey,” Adam told them. “What about you?”
“A pigey,” Scott confirmed. “You know, I was worried that you all had ended up like Chris, the catching wonder.”
“How about Matt, did you catch anything?” Mel wanted to know, trying to be nice and get to know him. The prospect of traveling with him all the way to Cerulean was looking daunting and vauguely unpleasant in the face of his perpetual scowl.
He shook his head. Unlike the others he didn’t have much money, and couldn’t afford to waste pokeballs. Besides, he had spent most of his journey trying to make his bulbasaur stronger, and trying to think up an entirely unique name for her.
“Well, that’s okay,” Mel told him, thinking that Matt was rather embarassed by the lack of pokemon. “I didn’t manage to catch anything either.”
Chris laughed. “Yeah, you should have seen her. She throws like a girl.”
“Yeah, and you scream like one,” Mel retorted.
“Are you really so shocked, Chris?” Alex wanted to know, he had been sliding closer and closer to the window to avoid the water that Mel and Adam were exuding. “She is a girl after all.”
“Good point,” Chris shrugged, trying to decide if he should get Mel back for the screaming like a girl comment or not. “Hey, your vampireyness, you never told us what you caught.”
“I did not see any pokemon worth catching,” Alex replied smoothly, before turning to stare out at the rain. “By the way, Girl, you should make your squirtle practice his bubble. It was extremely poor. Most went down his chin or was popped by the rain.”
“Hey, she was doing pretty well,” defended Adam. “Lapis knows withdraw, and he did defeat a level 10 evolved pokemon.”
“A bug pokemon,” Alex corrected, “which is hardly an achievement. Besides they fainted simutaneously.”
“Only because she couldn’t give Lapis an antidote,” Adam returned hotly.
Mel perked up, wanting to ask a question. “Hey, Alex, you’ve lived in Johto, right? Jack said that I couldn’t heal up Lapis on the field because of something that had happened three years ago called the “Johto League fiasco,” do you know what happened there?”
Alex continued staring out the window for a few more seconds and then said slowly, dredging up old memories: “Yeah, I was nine at the time. Mother had taken me to the big League tournament. During the semi-finals two dragon users were pitted against one another. A – one of those dragons from Hoenn, salawhatis, and a dragonite. Both used outrage at the same time and went completely berserk. When the dragonite’s trainer tried to calm it down by using a full restore both dragons attacked him.
“Several members of the Dragon clan were there. They always come to the big tounaments, since Lance usually attends, and Clair has to represent the gym. They jumped into the arena with their dragons, and the specators were evacuated by the gym leaders.
“Afterwards they said that the sala-thing had killed its own trainer, and maimed two of the dragon clan. The dragonite broke his trainer’s spine, and the one of the dragon clan stepped up to calm him down. He was a dragon whisperer, someone who doesn’t break dragons by using pokeballs, but somehow opens his soul to them. It’s an incredible skill, and very hard to master. It worked, almost, but something went wrong, and the man has brain damage now.”
“Gosh,” Scott looked stunned, his brown eyes wide. “Remind me not to train dragon types.”
“I doubt they’d let you,” Alex sneered. “Dragons are as picky as psychics.”
“Well, seeing as one picked Chris they can’t be all that choosey,” Adam joked lightly.
“Hey, since when has it been pick on Chris Day?” the young abra trainer wanted to know.
“Since you woke up,” Scott replied, snickering at his classmate’s expression.
Mel sighed and got to her feet. “Hey, guys, I’m going to go dry off. Are we going to meet for dinner, or pretty much go our separate ways?”
“Well,” Chris shrugged, “I’m going to have dinner at home, so I won’t be here.”
“I’ll be having dinner here,” Scott told Mel, as Adam nodded and Matt shrugged. Alex just stared at the rain.
Mel walked over to her counter and asked nervously for a room. The RN smiled at her, “Just go up the stairs and take a left. Pick a room, we only have two single rooms, so pick on of those unless you have a friend. Your class mates will probably be stuck together. Here’s a keycard,” the visa-like card was inserted into Mel’s hand and she went up stairs.
((End Part One.))
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:10:39 GMT -5
((Part 2 -- as per the normal))
It was close to five o’clock when Mel was dry and feeling warm enough to come down again. As she made her way down the spiral stairs of the center, she met the RN coming up, with Lapis’ pokeball. Acepting her squirtle, Mel smiled and then trotted downstairs to join the others. At the top of the landing the Joy shook her head, muttering about children these days, and didn’t their mothers ever teach them to say thank you?
Downstairs, a huge poster had been set up in the main lobby, and several chairs had been set around it.Most of these were filled with important looking adults, but there was a section where trainers watched. Chris was sitting with a motherly looking woman. He looked bored, and she looked confused, but was obviously trying very hard to keep up. Alex was watching things with a blank expression and Matt was leaning againt the wall, a shadow by his feet indicating his bulbasaur. Adam was obviously trying to look as if he was paying attention on the other side of Chris’s mother-like compainion, but Mel could see from her vantage point on the stairs, that he was really grooming the pidgey on his lap. Dive was being well behaved, and only cooing her enjoyment occassionally. Mel couldn’t help feeling slightly envious that Adam was so good with his own pokemon. She thought of trying to have that kind of soft peaceful moment with Lapis, but it didn’t work out in her mind any more than it would in reality.
There was a seat open next to Chris and she joined him. “I thought you were going to go home for supper?” she hissed in an undertone.
“I was, but Mom-Farra thought that this would be a good thing for me to see before I really spread my wings.”
“Shh, you two,” Mrs. Farra, as Mel guessed her to be, turned to look sternly at her foster son and his companion. “This is useful information, pay attention to the nice people.”
Mel obediently turned her head to watch the presenters. A female police officer was speaking, saying something about ties between regions. Mel immdeiately identified her as a Jenny, the kind of junior officer who weren’t too old, and were usually put to guarding elementary schools and writing traffic tickets. They were useful if you had problems of a not too serious nature, but it was not recommended to approach them with any problems more pressing than a lost bicycle. They were grunts, over worked, and not too bright. If they were competant they wouldn’t be Jennys.
“Now, as many of the distinguished guests here tonight are aware, the Kantoan Council and the Pokemon League of Kanto are very interested in creating a new acgency to take care of rogue pokemon, and rogue humans such as poachers. This agency has been opperational in Hoenn for a long time, and it has been proven both cost effective,” here the sixteen-year-old girl and Jack, who were seated quietly behind the Jenny, both winced. Cost effective meant that they were basically being paid one half minimum wage. At least it kept all but the truly dedicated out, but still, why remind everyone that they were as poor as church-rattata, and could be walked all over? “and efficient. In order to prove to you how useful they really are, pokemon rangers from Hoenn will be touring the region over the next two years, displaying what they know, doing their jobs, and trying to drum up support for the ballot initiative to create a ranger agency within Kanto. This will be a great step in inter-region relations, which is most important at this time when we need to so desperately pull together. Ranger Joanna will now explain the job of a ranger, and give some tips to the trainers in the audience on field care for your pokemon.”
The Jenny stepped aside from the podium, clapping politely along with the audience. The sixtenn year old rose, and stepped up to face the crowd. Unlike the Jenny, in her crisp professional uniform, the ranger was wearing a grab bag of old, but very well made, clothes. Her only consession to being part of an organization, it seemed, was the badge sewn onto her jacket, with the universal leaf symbol, and “Hoenn Department of Rangers” blazoned around the edge of the circle.
Her speech, too, was less prepared. She was obviously doing it on the fly. “Good mor – evening, ladies and gentlemen. Rangers are, pretty much, educators, policemen, and doctors all rolled into one. We work closely with pokemon, so it’s usually a good idea for aspiring rangers to come from pokemon related career, like training, breeding, pokemon medicine, vetinary care, or possibly law enforcement from a K-9 division.
“Um, we’re a pretty nomadic group. Hoenn has been divided up into districts, and There is one central office per district. A certain number of us are stationed through the district, and we patrol our district for three years, before being switched to another one.
“What do we patrol for? Well, like I said, we all do a stint as educators. We go into towns and hold meetings like this one, on proper care for pokemon, or how to clear land without harming the wild pokemon in it, or healing wild pokemon, or a lot of other things.
“But we also patrol for rogue pokemon, those with rabies, or ferals, or pokemon that are just being nuisances. When we find one of those, we either capture them to relocate in a less habited area, or put them down. In the case of most ferals, pokemon abuse is involved, and then we have to track down the original trainer and bring them to justice. Feral pokemon are usually capable of being reintegrated into the human world – they tend to be far too vicious for replacement in the wild, and we have to see to that, too.
“We also have to deal with poachers. If there’s a report of a sudden upswing in slowpoke tails, for example, we’re on the case. Usually we end up having to deal with both the bodies of pokemon left behind, and any young ones that are left alive. It’s a pretty girm business, but there are upsides. Rusty, can you show them Lila?”
The small, spongey grass type was produced, and Joanna carefully lifted her onto the podium. “Lila is a shroomish. These pokemon are considered a delicacy in certain restaurants. Two years ago we broke into a poaching ring for edible pokemon and found – among the cut up bodies of her parents – this little girl. She wouldn’t go near humans for the first year, and had locked herself up in her own mind. She wouldn’t eat anything but soil and sunlight – she was forcing herself to revert, become totally a plant, in order to escape her memories. However, Rusty here, managed to snap her out of it with love and care. Now she’s a useful member of his party, and we think she’ll be a permenant addition to his ranger team. So, as you can see, there are rewards and benefits. Which is about the only bonus that you get in this job.”
“Now, Ranger Jack,” Joanna stepped aside, and Lila hopped happily off the podium, where she tottered over to Rusy, and burried her face in the fabric of his pants, “will give you a few tips on healing pokemon in the wild.”
Jack stood up, and walked around the podium. Releasing a zubat and a machop, he addressed the audience. “A vetinary clinic and a pokemon center aren’t always going to be there when you need them. You will run out of potions, and other healing items and forget to replish your stock. So, what do you do when you run into trouble like that? There is one thing that you should always do, before you set out to go anywhere. Look at a map. What kind of terrain lies between you and your next destination? What kind of pokemon will you find?
“Say you’re going to go through a wooded area with lots of oddish, and gloom. Plan ahead, and pack extra paralyze heals. It’s as simple as that.
“Also, have at least one pokemon – it doesn’t matter if you want to train them or not – who won’t be badly affected by the attacks of the pokemon you are going to encounter.
“Finally, having at least one flying type on your party at all times is essential. Using them you can go get help, discover the way back to the path if you get lost in a forest, have them identify certain plants and get them for you, or have them find fresh water.
“If, however, you’ve failed to plan ahead, and you’re miles away from many help, here are four common plants that you can find almost anywhere that will cure most status ailments.
“Wemilgil,” he held up a thick stemmed plant that Mel recognized as a weed her father would often wage war on to get out of the lawn when he was feeling in the mood for theraputic garden management, “The stem is extremely poisonous, however, the leaves cure most poisons, and if your pokemon eat enough of them build up an immunity to poison.
“Safolio,” this was a limp curly weed that Mel remembered seeing vaguely on the side of roads, “is a weed that will grow almost anywhere there is moisture. It’s hardy, and can cure paralysis.”
“Wakeflower,” Mel reconized the pungent scent before she saw the ugly yellow petals, “will wake pokemon from the coma like state of induced sleep. It’s either that or cold water, which I don’t recommend on fire types.”
“Finally, there are nettles,” Jack noted the dismayed looks as the stinging leaves were brought into veiw by the machop, who could handle them with his tougher skin. “Boiled these nasty little little plants will cure almost anything except for health loss. Don’t forget to wear gloves when you pick them.
“Now, the easiest way to find these plants is have the pokemon do it. Most pokemon have better senses than we do. A zubat’s sonar is perfect for differentiating, among a tangled group of weeds where safolio is. Just make certain that you have two or more pokemon who can identify these plants in your party, and you should be all set in case you run into trouble.
“As a final note, fresh water will give your pokemon energy, and health. It’s cheaper to buy than potions, but more important, it can be found in the wild. It’s a wonderful free way to restore your pokemon, unless they are a fire type that doesn’t have a digestion system separate from their fire breathing system. It’s also not such a brilliant idea for rock types, but it could be worse. Anyway, that’s it for the presentation that we have. We’re open for questions after the show, and I believe that Officer Chevallier has a few closing notices for the trainers in the audience.”
Jack sat down, again, and the Jenny (Chevallier) took the podium for the last time. “Please remember, that due to concerns about danger, first year trainers are not allowed to compete in the big League tournament, even if they have received the eight badges needed. They may participate in the smaller tournaments, and wait until next year to enter,” the group from Pallet town looked shocked and appalled by this pronouncement. “Also, we remind you that it is against the law to own a porygon. Such pokemon are used in cyber crimes, and it is your duty, should you meet a trainer who uses one to delete the porygon, and turn the hacker in for arrest. Professor Oak has informed me that your pokedexes are capable of deleting the virtual pokemon, so you should have no problems there. Cyber crimes are on the rise; people’s identities are stolen, and their lives are wiped away because of this pokemon’s artificial inteligence in the hands of hackers. Keep your family safe, and destroy this threat.”
With that the officer sat down and the people stood up to go. Mrs. Farra was looking very much relieved. Chris began complaining heatedly to Mel almost as soon as the officer stopped talking. “I can’t believe this, since when can’t we participate in the league tourney just because we’re just starting!”
“Well, dear,” Mrs. Farra put a hand on Chris’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “They have been talking about making the ruling ever since that horrible accident in Johto. I’m actually kind of glad. I’m not certain that you would be ready to participate in a big tournament until next year, anyway. The trainers who get into the top ranks there have very rough pokemon. Your poor little Raindancer might get squashed.”
“If only,” muttered Chris grumpily. “So we get punished just because some idiots up in Johto got hurt?”
“Some were killed, dear,” Mrs. Farra sounded shocked by Chris’s devil may care attitude. “That poor dragon master – he didn’t even look human any more when they wheeled him out. And don’t say idiot, it’s not a nice word.”
“Sorry, Mom-Farra,” Chris was so easily cowed that Mel wished she could learn the trick.
“That’s better, dear. Now, come home, I’m certain that Dad-Farra would like to meet your abra, and those other -- interesting creatures.”
“I think he’ll like Slither the best,” Chris smiled suddenly, his petulance forgotten, although Mrs. Farra shuddered. “Oh Mom-Farrrrrra,” Chris complained. “I know you don’t like snakes, but he’s a real person, just like the rest of us. If you like I can get Raindancer to translate his thoughts for you.”
“I suppose that might help,” Mrs. Farra conceeded. “But I just don’t like the way he moves without legs.”
Mel somehow sensed that this was a moment between Chris and Mrs. Farra, and she sidled away. Just as she would have been embarrassed had any of the boys watched her gift giving with her sisters (especially the part about the bows) she decided that Chris wouldn’t like it if she interrupted. Going over to the booth that she had occupied with the others that afternoon she saw Matt and Scott aready shoveling down food.
Adam and Alex were coming back, bowls of soup in their hands, and pokemon food balanced on top of the bowls. Seeing Mel, Adam told her that food was availiable at the counter. The first bowl for both human and pokemon food was free, but for seconds they had to pay.
Mel got out of her seat, while Lapis moved up from the floor to the bench, and looked outside at the drizzling rain. Alex sat down next to the squirtle, releasing Corazon on the table, causing Matt and Scott to pull their bowls away, and complain loudly at the firey tail that was swung in their faces.
When Mel returned with the soup bowl and the food for Lapis, Scott shoved past Adam to get some more soup, and Matt was desperately trying to catch the last drops of food with the complementary roll that had come with his meal. Under the table she could hear Matt’s Unnamed bulbasaur munching contentedly on the generic food, while both Bolt and Dive snoozed, Bolt making a bed out of Adam’s hair, and Dive on the shoulder that she had claimed as her own. Lapis was perched precariously on Alex’s lap, still looking at the rain with a thoughtful expression on his face. Corazon, her food on the table, was slurping down the brown pellets, and alternately growling at Lapis.
Mel also couldn’t help but feel that Lapis was a bit of a traitor, so easily sharing the lap of someone who mocked his trainer. When she set the food bowl down on the table Alex neatly lifted Lapis from his lap and placed the squirtle between himself and Mel, somehow creating a barrier by that act.
Talk, when it began, focused on the unfairness of the ruling about first years not being allowed to participate in the League. Mel agreed with the rest, although, Adam, strangely enough, took the side of Mrs. Farra. Matt voiced no comment until the end as they all rose to return bowls. “It means that by the time we do get to the tournament we’ll be ready as we can be, at least. And we won’t have to hurry through the gyms. Which also means if any of us aren’t in the top twenty when we do get there, it’s our fault for not preparing, not anyone else’s.”
The look with which he said this made it clear to Mel that what he meant was: “If one of us doesn’t make it to that spot, then that person had better quit training altogether.”
As she climbed into bed that night, Mel resolved to make it into the top fifteen.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 4, 2007 12:14:30 GMT -5
Chapter Eight: Morning Amnesia
When Mel woke up it was to an unfamiliar ceiling, with unfamiliar shadows on it. She panicked, and nearly fell out of bed until she heard a loud thump and a drowsy “Squirtle?” from Lapis.
In the next room Scott had fallen from his bunk bed, and was now staring around him surprised to find himself in the same room and three of his class mates. The fellow class mates didn’t look any more comfortable in this state of uncertainty, and bleary eyed wakefulness. Adam, who had the top bunk above Scott, continued to sleep, but both Matt and Alex looked around suspiciously, before the morning amnesia wore off.
“I call bathroom first,” Scott declared, before stumbling out into the hall.
Matt peered down from the top bunk and muttered something inaudible, before seeing Corazon sleeping peacefully on the floor.
“Oi! What are you trying to do, burn the pokemon center down around our ears?” the boy accused Alex.
“Corazon doesn’t like her pokeball,” Alex was getting out of bed calmly, dressed in PJs that were, surprise, surprise, black.
“Yeah, but with that tail if she so much as twitches in her sleep she could set the place ablaze,” Matt’s tone was aggressive.
“So? Charmander manage to go to sleep in the wild without starting any fires. Do you want to know how?” Alex passed his fingers gently through the flame at the end of Corazon’s orange tail. “See? No hotter than sticking your hand over a warm stove. They can control the temperature of their flame even at a young age. I’m just surpised how low they can get it without letting it go out.”
“Wouldn’t that make more sense?” Matt grumbled, climbing down from the top bunk, interested despite himself.
“When a charmander’s flame goes out they die,” Alex told Matt, disgust radiating from his voice at Matt’s suggestion. The Johtoan stood around, looking vaguely disgruntled. “How on earth did Scott think of calling the bathroom?” he said at last, to say something.
“Scott has more sisters than he can use,” Matt shrugged. “He’s probably used to fights over the bathroom. Look just because he called it, doesn’t mean that he can get it.”
Matt stumped out of the room, looking like a pale imitation of Alex in his dark brown hair, and loose grey pajamas.
Alex realized that with Adam asleep in the top bunk, and Corzon still dozing, he wasn’t going to enjoy much company. Not that he wanted company, but early in the morning, after waking up in a strange room, it was nice to be disdainful of the presence of others in the presence of others.
Deciding to think laterally, he concluded that there must be more than one bathroom in the pokemon center, and that while Matt and Scott fought he would use that bathroom.
So, instead of turning to the left in the direction of Matt’s loud complaints to one side of the bathroom door when he exited the room, Alex headed right. And lo and behold, after seven steps he found another bathroom. He knocked, just in case someone else was occupying it. The door opened, and The Girl stuck her head around the crack, toothbrush in her mouth.
Alex glared, seeing that she was already dressed. He turned on his heel, and stalked back to his room, deciding that if he could not get his teeth brushed and wash his face, then at least he could get dressed. Even after shutting the door with a bad tempered smack the other human occupant of the room remained oblivious to the world. In fact, Alex thought that Adam’s soft snores were growing louder.
These facts, coupled with the fact that Matt had been foiled in his bathroom takeover, although not before throughly insulting Scott, meant that the only cheerful trainer who came down the stairs that morning was Mel, with Lapis gingerly climbing down backwards after her.
Alex, in a really bad mood, didn’t talk to anyone but the lunch lady, and that was to request a bowl of oatmeal. Scott was grumbling about Matt, and Matt was scowling at Corazon again. His bulbasaur was upstairs, still asleep, along with Scott’s Nocturne, who was happily hanging on to the underside of Adam’s bunk. However, Matt seemed to have gained the idea that Corazon was evil incarnate for having attacked his pokemon during the battle of the previous day.
Mel glanced around Matt, who had occupied one of the window seats, and sighed when she saw a light, misty drizzle that continued to fall outside. She was going to the secondhand store after breakfast and buying a cheap raincoat.
She went back to spooning in her hot oatmeal, picking out the rawst berries, since she had an mild alergy to them, and feeding them to Lapis, who sat beside her. Alex was doing the same for Corazon, although he had no alergy, and was eating half of the rawst berries himself. Scott was trying to discourage his pigey from nibbling at his breakfast, pointing out, quite rightly, that he had his own food bowl. However, the bird seemed to be quite bold, especially for one of his kind, and ignored him.
“What’s your pigey’s name?” Mel asked, when the opressive silence got to be too much.
“Seed,” Scott replied from across the table. “Did any of you catch what Chris named his pokemon? Sinslither, and Darkfang. Slither and Fang for short – I think he’s trying to annoy his abra.”
Mel giggled, as Matt snorted with amusement.
“So, when are you three planning on meeting up?” Mel was curious.
“Well,” Scott began.
“I’m leaving after breakfast. The other two have their own plans, I’m certain,” Alex interrupted.
“Er, I guess we’ll catch up,” Scott muttered, looking out at the drizzle, and sighing just as Mel had done.
“And what about us?” Mel turned to Matt.
The boy shrugged. “Well, if we have to wait for sleeping beauty, then we have to wait.”
“I need to buy a raincoat, anyway,” Mel commented.
“Fine,” Matt was obviously uninterested in her plans.
He was only going along with this because he knew that Adam and Mel would catch up anyway. Besides, Adam was easy-going, and fun to be around if you were in the right mood, and Mel probably had brought food with her in the Pack of Doom that she carried. All-in-all, independence was a small price to pay for better living than traveling on his own.
They finished their breakfasts in relative quiet. Alex was the first to leave. He returned Corazon to her pokeball, and then ran upstairs to get his pack. Scott, not to be out done, swiftly followed. Mel was looking in her wallet, a small frilled pink thing that Ora had gotten her for her eighth birthday. She didn’t carry much, and she knew how much an old second hand raincoat should cost. She had gone bargain hunting with her mother enough times to know how to argue that point.
Matt noticed that she had her pokedex in her other pocket. What, did she think she was going to run into wild pokemon in the middle of Viridian? As Matt shrugged, and climbed the stairs to get his stuff pulled together, Mel set out for the store, Lapis in tow.
The grey drizzle was fresh on her face, and the way Lapis was acting he must be enjoying it, too. Mel, who had been initially depressed by the onslaught of rain now realized that it might be a good thing with her water pokemon. Actually, it might be a good thing in general, as the rarer kinds of pokemon that lived in Viridian forest were mostly grass types and would come out in this weather. Mel was playing with the idea of catching a paras, which were hard pokemon to find, but not impossible. Of course, the downside was that any flying pokemon, which according to Jack she did need to catch, wouldn’t be out in this weather.
As she sloshed through the grey streets she chatted with Lapis, a little disappointed that Chrono couldn’t come out and join them.
“Listen, Lapis, what do you think, should we try to challenge the Cerulean gym after getting through Pewter? They say that the gym leaders at Cerulean like to attack really hard, and I know you don’t have a type advantage, but in this weather we’re certain to come across an oddish that we could use, or a paras. I’ve always wanted one, they’re really sweet.”
“Squir squirt, tle squirt squirt tle,” Lapis commented, with a shrugg of his shell to indicate that he was fine with the arangement, although he personally thought, after having seen Mel’s aiming ability, that she would have to practice throwing her pokeballs a bit before she made too many over confident claims about oddish.
“Alright, and after we’ve taken on Cerulean I think we can continue onto Vermilion – remind me to catch a ground type in Mt. Moon. If there isn’t a ground type in my party by the time we reach Vermillion I think I’ll give that gym a pass, and we can catch a boat to Cinnabar. After that I think we’ll have to wait and see.
“The boat ride from Vermillion to Cinnabar would take about two days, and the road from Cerulean to Vermillion takes about two weeks on foot. From Cerulean to the base of Mt. Moon is usually a four day journey. Going through Mt. Moon, assuming we don’t get lost inside, takes only one day, while climbing the summit, or going around it can take three. And from Pewter to Mount Moon, that’s five more days, and from Viridian to Pewter, going through the Viridian Forest, that’s a whole other week,” Mel counted up weeks on her fingers. She looked at them in dismay.
“That’s almost five weeks, maybe longer if we stop for training breaks, and who knows how long it’s going to take us to prepare in the towns to challenge the gyms. And it would be very easy to get off the beaten track in both the Viridian Forest and Mount Moon – It could take us months before we get back from Cinnabar!”
“Squirtle squirt,” Lapis told her pragmatically.
“Is that you’re way of saying ‘That’s how the cookie crumbles’?” Mel asked.
Lapis looked impressed, and nodded. Perhaps his trainer wasn’t as thick as he had thought.
“Well, I suppose so. It’s a good thing that we’re not going to be able to participate in the league for another year after all – maybe,” Mel conceeded, before looking around, and noting that they seemed to be in a residential neighborhood with it’s own small playground. “Hey, is it just me, or have you seen zero shops here? I could have sworn this was the way on the city map in the pokemon center. Did I take the wrong turn?”
Lapis, who had glanced at the image with the lines and shapes by the desk of the pokemon center, but hadn’t really understood any of it, shrugged. These magical map things were some sort of device that humans seemed to rely on over much.
“Hey, there’s a kid, perhaps we can ask him,” Mel suggested, seeing an indistinct shape in the playground off to their left.
It turned out to be a younger boy playing with a couple of catterpie. Well, the word playing was a little off. The boy had a stick and he chased after the caterpie, whacking them with said stick when ever he caught up.
“Hey, you shouldn’t do that!” Mel exclaimed, catching the stick as the boy stumbled past her, chasing a bruised caterpie. The caterpie’s partner was hiding in the shadow of the swing set, looking tired, and greatful for the repreive as the boy chased it’s friend around and around the wet playground.
“Heeeeey!” the boy couldn’t be older than six, Mel decided, listening to him bawl. “That’s mya stick. Mine! Mine!”
“And are those your caterpie?” Mel asked.
“Mine! Mine! Miiiiiiine!” the boy continued to shriek.
“Okay, okay,” Mel resisted the urge to cover her ears. Why were his parents letting him roam freely like this? He was a loose cannon. She decided to take him to his house. His mother, at least, shouldn’t have let him out in this weather, and Mel was also pretty certain that such a young boy shouldn’t have been given two pokemon that he obviously didn’t know how to take care of.
“Hey, Lapis, can you get those bug pokemon to come here?” Mel asked, feeling very responsible in her position as a wise ten-year-old. “Listen, where do you live?” she asked the boy during a lull in the crying. “It’s too wet out for you to be playing.”
The boy reached for the stick. “Gimme! Gimme!”
“Will you tell me where you live if I give this to you?” Mel wanted to know.
“Uh-huh,” snot was coursing from the up turned nose.
Mel handed him the stick, wishing that she had a kleenex or something. He was such a grubby little thing. And vicious, as it turned out. When he grasped a hold of the stick he whacked Mel around the shins soundly, laughing. “C’mon, play with me, play with me!”
Mel dove for the stick again, just as Lapis, who was acting as a squirtle sheild for the caterpie cowering in his shadow, arrived. The stick lunged out, and bopped the water pokemon on the head.
Enraged, Lapis blew a stream of bubbles into the boy’s face. Mel used the distraction to wrest the stick from his hand once more.
“All right, that is it!” Mel yelled. Her shins were throbbing. “I’m reporting you to the police for pokemon abuse, and I hope your parents spank you when they find out!”
The boy’s face crumpled, and he began to blubber again. Mel breathed out, her childish temper dieing slightly. “Now look, tell me where you live, and I won’t report you to the police.”
“But – but, I don’t wannnnnnna be spaaaaaaaanked,” the boy continued to wail.
“That won’t happen if I don’t report you. Now come on! Where’s your home?”
The boy sniffed, and wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his raincoat. He pointed to a green and brown house with a picket fence around it, and some toys in the yard.
Mel took his hand, and marched him over to the house, ignoring the mud getting on her socks as she crossed the lawn. Lapis followed behind, rubbing his head occassionally, and glaring at the boy. The caterpies made up the rear of the procession, heads down, and inching along tiredly.
When Mel rang the doorbell there was a long pause. After waiting for three minutes in the rain, which was steadily soaking into the sweatshirt she had worn that day, she rang it again, more impatiently.
Finally a man with a gotee and mustash poked his head around the door. “Yes – oh Tommy, there you are. I was wondering why the house was so quiet.”
“I found him in the playground, sir, running around and attacking his caterpie,” Mel said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” was the absent minded reply, “he’s not meant to do that. Do come in.”
Mel tossed Tommy’s stick by the door, and then walked into the house. It was covered in papers, most of these turned out to be sheets of music. There was a sonata playing in the background, and She caught a glimps of a piano before being hustled into the kitchen.
“I just wanted to say,” Mel began, tearing her eyes away from the sprawling mess, “That Tommy shouldn’t be allowed to have pokemon until he grows up enough to take care of them properly, or at least learns that whacking pokemon with big sticks isn’t a fun game.”
“But, but I want my cate’pie!” Tommy began to snivel.
“Now, now, Tommy, be quiet for the young lady,” his father said. “She has something important to say.”
“Well, I’d turn him in for pokemon abuse if this is allowed to continue. Can’t you keep the caterpie away from him?” Mel asked, realizing with a shock that she was ordering this grown up around, and that it was easy to do so. It probably wouldn’t have been half so easy had this man been a strict parent and agreeing with her. “He’s only six, he can’t possibly know how to take proper care of them.”
“Seven,” the father corrected. “Tommy’s always been a rambuntious child though, and boys will be boys.”
“But he was hurting them!” Mel exclaimed.
“But pokemon bounce back, don’t they?” the father looked distressed, he began to pace. “Perhaps you’d like some tea?”
“No thank you. And pokemon don’t all bounce back. Don’t you have an older more responsible neighbor who could take care of the caterpie, and let Tommy play with them at certain times as a reward?” Mel suggested.
“Squir squirt tle tle squir,” Lapis put in. Mel looked blankly at the squirtle, but Tommy’s wails grew louder.
“But I don’t wannnnnnnna send them back to the for-resssst!”
The father raised his hands quickly. “Don’t worry! Please. You won’t have to, Tommy, they’re your pets,” he continued to soothe the child until Tommy stopped crying. “Please, young lady, thank you for bringing the problem to my attention, but there’s really nothing more that can be done. Those caterpie are his. His mother caught them for him. Thanks for bringing him in out of the rain. It’s no weather for a child – what can I have been thinking?”
He walked Mel to the door. The young girl tried to protest, but it was drowned in the ramblings of the man. Lapis followed, shooting glances at the boy. “Tle squir squir squirtle squirt?”
“Yes! Yes!” the boy shrieked, excitement overwhelming misery. Both the father and Mel looked at Tommy, confused. “Will you come back and play with me?” He asked.
Thinking over her bruises, and the way he had hit Lapis on the head Mel felt no difficulty in saying no. “You see, I’m on a pokemon journey,” she told the boy proudly, as she stood just inside the front door, ready to step out into the drizzle once more. “Because I’m re-spon-si-ble and I don’t hit pokemon with sticks.”
“Well, good luck then,” Tommy’s father told her, before looking out at the weather. “Oh dear, do you have a rain coat?”
“Well, no I was going to find a shop –,” Mel began.
“Wait here, I think I have an old one of Elysa’s,” the father hurried back inside.
“Can I come with you on your journey?” Tommy asked as soon as his father disappeared. “Can I, can I?”
“Um, you can’t go until you’re ten,” Mel said quickly.
“But wh-ai-ai?” Tommy complained. “I wanna go!”
“Because you’re not old enough yet. Uh, who’s Elysa?” Mel quickly tried to change the topic.
“She’s my older sister. You can see her if you go to the cemetary,” Tommy grinned innocently. “She’s there with Mommy. Daddy says they’re in Heaven, but you can see them in the cemetary. They have rocks with their names and everything. They’re there.”
“Oh,” Mel backed up a pace, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? They’re happy!” Tommy exclaimed. “Since they’re in Heaven they’ve got everything they could want, so Daddy says. Except us, but since we’re all going there one day that doesn’t matter!”
“Right,” Mel tried to smile encouragingly.
No one was more happy than she was when the father came back with the large blue rainjacket. It was closer to a windbreaker than anything, but Mel slipped it on greatfully, said her thank yous and good byes, and quickly left for the pokemon center. She felt vaugely ashamed that she had brought things up, but she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why.
Outside, in the rain, she caught sight of Matt and his bulbasaur, sitting on a fence by the center. Well, Matt was sitting as he talked to his bulbasaur, who was on the ground. Ocassionally things fired from the bulb on her back.
“Again, that was too far too the right.”
“Buuuuuulba,” she growled at her trainer, before seeds shot out at a mound of rubish.
Mel watched in facination as the seeds exploded into tangling vines covered in a golden green energy. They writhed viciously for a few seconds before shivelling and shrinking. Mel saw that the bannana peel which they had implanted in withered away as the vines grew.
“Wow, that’s um, creepy,” Mel told Matt.
“Leech seed,” Matt shrugged along to the minimum of sylables.
“Oh. Remind me not to battle you. Is Adam up?”
“No,” a pause, and then, “I left a note. If he’s not up in a few more minutes we leave.”
“There’s no need to rush,” Mel began, but stopped as she caught sight of the bulbasaur. “Wow, how did that happen?”
The grass pokemon had the normal blue green skin, and the deep green blotches of most bulbasaur, but Matt’s now sported a burst of pale green and watery gold across her face. It looked a little like the old fahsioned compasses on maps, a spikey circle with longer spikes spreading out from the four points. The “North point” was the longest, cleanly bisecting her broad forhead and zooming over the back of her head and down her back in a straght line until it encountered her bulb. The “South point” was the smallest, reaching only to the tip of the bulbasaur’s nearly nonexistant chin, just under the jutting of her upper lip. Both “East and West” were thicker, looking more like firey rays of a sun that flowed over her cheeks, and even the bottom lids of her eyes, to streak over the saurian’s shoulders and terminate in flecks of true gold that looked like a shower of sparks.
“That’s the scar from Corazon’s ember,” Matt growled.
“That’s a scar? It’s so pretty though,” Mel bent down to pat the spring green and gold mottled forehead. The bulbasaur snapped her jaws viciously, and Mel only escaped from losing a few of her fingers through reflexes she didn’t know she had.
“It’s also painful. Don’t do that,” Matt’s voice was flat with only a hint of anger.
Mel backed up hastily, although she didn’t show any other signs of fear. Lapis stamped in front of his trainer and began to berate the bulbasaur, who in return gave as good as she got.
“Have you named her yet?” Mel wanted to know.
“No.”
“Oh, um, do you want some help?” Mel realized this was the wrong way to offer help to Matt, as he opened his mouth to say “no” again. “Only, what about Jade?” Mel asked hurridly.
“She’s not Jade colored,” Matt replied.
“Or Bonsai?” Mel continued. “That’s a kind of small tree.”
“She’s not a tree, she moves,” was the grumbled counter.
“Gold Leaf?”
“Does she look like a leaf to you?” Matt narrowed his eyes.
“Okay,” Mel said slowly, “What about Rose? It goes with her face, because the scar is the shape of a compass rose.”
There was a strangled cry of “Saur!” just as Matt yelled: “I’m not naming any pokemon of mine Rose!”
The grass pokemon breathed out a sigh of releif, and went to stand closer to her trainer. Not to show solidarity or anything, but to nip him in the ankle if he considered a stupid name.
“Um, Thorn, then?” Mel suggested, thinking about roses.
“Tried it already,” Matt replied. “She bit me.”
“Stubborn? Biter?” Mel thought both names exceedingly practically and useful.
“I don’t like the look she’s giving my boot,” Matt was watching his pokemon carefully, ready to sidestep.
“Anor?” Mel half remembered something out of a nursery rhyme about the sun. Looking at the bulbasaur she was relieved to see a nod of assent.
Matt just scowled. “It’s a boy’s name, and she’s a girl.”
“Um, Tirith?” that had been the title of the song, Tirith Anor: Guard of the Sun.
“Tirith,” Matt glanced down at his pokemon. “Yeah, that’ll do,” he said, noting Tirith’s shrug. “She can keep Anor as a last name if she wants,” he added, just to make certain that he didn’t need to worry about any nasty bites.
The door to the pokemon center burst open, and Adam ran out pulling on a yellow rain coat. Bolt was scampering around his feet excitedly, and Dive was complaining bitterly about the fact that her claws had no purchase on the slick plastic.
“What’d I miss?” he asked breathlessly.
“About half the day,” Matt snarled, sounding annoyed. In reality it was only 8:45. “Let’s go.”
All three trouped off in the direction of the Viridian Forest.
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 8, 2007 21:06:05 GMT -5
((Tah Dah! A new update! I haven't been able to get past this part for a while, but I finally decided to scrap my plan of having the first Viridian Forest chapter span two days. Insted you're all getting this cliff hangy chapter which I'm not certain how to resolve...
PS. Looking for a better chapter name))
Chapter Nine: New Recruits
The gloom closed around the three like a blanket thrown over their heads. At least that was how it seemed to Mel. She wasn’t used to forests. Pallet was a town which rolled down toward a bay with fields surrounding it in all other directions. She didn’t like being unable to see most of the sky.
Adam was preening Dive again, a reward for having sucessfully defeated the few challengers that had beset them. Matt had a black look on his face, as Tirith hadn’t been allowed to battle. It made sense, of course, most of the trainers around here were younger children all with bug pokemon. Wannabe trainers, as Matt had commented. Most likely they would never go to Pallet to learn from Professor Oak, or the other schools for pre-journey learning in Cinnabar and Saffron, but take a mail order course and pass the League knowledge requirements that way.
Lapis sighed as soon as they got under tree cover, the drizzle only hit his shell ocassionally, and he couldn’t feel it very much. He liked the connected sense that the rain gave him. If he had to imagine an ocean he would imagine a sky full of rain, each drop it’s own individual self, but all the specks coming together to form one cohesive whole.
“So, should we split up?” Adam asked the group.
Mel looked around at the thick trees, and the misty light. “No, I don’t think so. It’d be too easy to get lost.”
“Oka—hey!”
A streak of yellow shot across their path, surprising Adam into jumping backward.
“Lapis tackle that pikachu!” Mel exclaimed, excitement growing in her.
If she could capture a pikachu she would have an advantage over Misty, and a pokemon that was only weak to ground attacks. Not to mention that the electric mice were shy, and this might be her only chance to catch one.
“Squirtle!” Lapis ran forward on all fours, using the momentum of his shell to keep him going. The yellow mouse turned, surprise written on his features, and then he zigzagged to the left using agility.
Lapis skidded to a halt, panting, before blowing bubbles at the pikachu. The fluffy yellow coat of the pokemon flattened against its plump body as the fur absorbed the water of the frothy bubbles.
“No, Lapis, duck!” Mel ordered, as the air around the electric type bagan to spark. With a furious “CHU!” a thundershock bore down on Lapis, a raw cable of electrical energy. Lapis danced backwards, and rolled on the ground in order to avoid the whipping rope of lightning. The wet leaves and moss underfoot blakened and smoked, sending up a noxious oder.
Lapis staggered up from the ground, unscathed, but with a wary look in his eyes. “Don’t use water attacks!” Mel exclaimed. “It only amplifies their power.”
“Squir squirt, tle?” Lapis demanded of Mel, glaring at the yellow monster.
Mel bit her lip. “Wait for it to come to you, then tail whip!” she advised.
“Should we join in?” Adam wanted to know, seeing several problems with Lapis facing off against the electric type all alone.
“I got it,” Mel replied, her teeth gritted, as she braced herself, trying to draw strength from the ground.
The pikachu began backing away, heading for the tree again. Mel worried her lip between her teeth. Then she saw the leaf mold and grinned. “Angle your tail whip on the ground!” she told Lapis.
He skimmed the ground with his stiff tail, like a golfer intent on making a divet. The wet leaves and other compost went flying. The carapaces of bug pokemon were exposed, but Mel ignored them for the moment. The pikachu started, its eyes wide as the soggy missles landed all around it. A clump of leaves hit its face with a wet “sploit.”
“Pikaaaa!” it shrieked, surprised out of its stripes. It began to paw at its face, trying to clear it.
“Now,” Mel savored the taste of the word on her tongue as Lapis shot forward, already guessing his trainer’s intent.
He slammed into the blinded pikachu, with a victorious “Squirtle!” The yellow rodent fell back, sinking into the debris of the forest. It thrashed helplessly, as Lapis turned around to cannon into it again.
“Tackle!”
Mel saw Tirith run into the area where the battle was taking place, and smash her blocky head into a bug that was inching up behind Lapis, an annoyed expression on its face.
The bug was stunned by the powerful impact. It lay limply, plastered across Tirith’s scarred forehead, until Tirith whipped it off. It spread over the ground, the tan, segmented body heaving as it tried to get up, and aim its stinger at the aggressive grass type.
Mel smiled a thanks at Matt, and then turned her attention back to Lapis. The pikachu had jumped upright, and it was now glaring at the squirtle, with sparks gittering from its cheeks. The damp fur was mussed into cowlicks and the mouse was covered in wet leaves.
Lapis stood, grinning as he glared down the mouse.
It charged, lightning wrapping around the yellow and brown body.
“Withdraw!” Mel punched the air. That pokemon was on its last legs, and Lapis could withstand anything in his shell.
The water pokemon popped into his shell, and rocked as he was slammed into by the pikachu. Lightning crackled over his shell, seeking the holes into which he had withdrawn. The electric mouse, however, rebounded from Lapis’ hard shell, and landed limply in the detritus once again. This time it stayed down.
When a fainted weedle landed on top of its body the pikachu didn’t even twitch.
“C’mon Matt, catch the weedle,” Mel encouraged. “You need another pokemon besides Tirith.”
“Bul ba,” Tirith growled dangerously at Mel, obviously meaning, “no, he does not!”
Matt looked down, shrugged, and threw a pokeball, which neatly scooped up the weedle, and set to rocking furiously.
Mel rummaged in her pack, came up with another red and white metal orb, and tossed it—into a tree.
“Ahh?!” Mel’s jaw dropped, and Adam began laughing. Even Matt had a quiet chuckle.
“Wow,” Adam tried to breathe, “Chris wasn’t kidding. You are a bad shot. You can’t be more than five feet from that pikachu.”
“Oh shut up, you two,” Mel went red. “Can someone help me get that pokeball down?”
Matt, still chuckling, moved to the tree, and jumped for a low branch. He scrabbled up the trunk, and there were leafy rustles in the gloom before he called out: “Got i—yarrrrrrgh!” He fell from the tree with a thud, pokeball in his outstretched hand.
A bird’s face, Mel thought it was a pigotto, peered out of the tree, glaring at the ground. Matt rolled over onto his back, and glared at the bird. Obviously the flying type took something about their party as a challenge, for it cried out, and little rustlings in the gloom made it clear that it had friends. “Adam, I think Bolt and Dive need to see a bit more action,” Mel said tensely out of the corner of her mouth. “Matt, you and Tirith should stay back.”
“We’re not going to back down in front of a bunch of bird brains,” was the stubborn retort, echoed by a “Bulba.”
Mel didn’t bother to argue that it was the attitude both had towards confrontation that made her want them to stay behind. She wasn’t their mother, and technically had no right to say anything about whether they stayed or went.
“Fine. If I get Lapis to use a full range bubble, will the water help leech seed stick?” Mel asked, as the flock shot upwards, away from the tree cover.
Adam lifted his arm and tossed Dive up as well. “Tell us where they’re coming in from!” He yelled to the pidgey, who flipped her tail in agreement before fluttering heavily through the cannopy blocking the sky.
“All right, Adam, you keep Bolt back until after Lapis’ second bubble attack,” Mel said, thinking quickly. “Otherwise Bolt might accidentally hit him, and we want full electric range. Tirith had better fall back with Lapis as well. You two will be the defensive line if they get past Bolt,” she addressed both pokemon. “When Dive comes back, she’ll join them. To your right! BUBBLE!” Mel shrieked as she saw Dive crash through the screen of leaves and branches again, hulking pigeotto dwarfing her, as they dove down after the pidgey.
Lapis blew the frothing mouthful at the seeming horde of bird pokemon. Feeling water drench their feathers as the innocuous bubbles popped against them, the pigotto turned, their mad eyes concentrating on the squirtle rather than the downed pidgey.
“Leech seed,” Matt commanded, “and get Dive!”
The bulbasaur jumped in front of Lapis, the little withered seeds spouting from her bulb like a storm shower. They covered the water soaked pigeotto, and dug in under the feathers as the writhing vines errupted.
Then Tirith was charging across the small open space, and grabbed Dive in her long jaws. The bulbasaur skidded into a turn, and then ran back toward the humans, none too gentle with the bird, but the point was to get Dive out of there before she got hit by their team attack.
“Cover them, and then fall back!” Mel instructed her water pokemon, feeling a tense calm in her head, where cold logic and hot excitement warred with one another.
Lapis blew more bubbles at the birds, making certain to cover them in water, especially the ones where the leech seed hadn’t taken hold. Tirith skidded in behind Matt’s legs, depositing her feathered burden, and Lapis closed his aching mouth and stepped back hurriedly.
The pigeotto were flapping their wings desperately, trying to keep aloft as the vines from the leech seed attempted to close over them. Seeing no resistance, the leader gave out another warbling cry and plunged forward, aiming for the humans that dared interfere with their territory.
“Adam!” Mel shouted, backing up a step, seeing those vicious eyes, and sharp beaks suddenly trained on them.
Her voice jolted him out of whatever paralysis gripped him, and the giant child managed a strangled “thundershock!”
Bolt raced forward, the epitome of eager enjoyment. “PiiiiiCHU!” he squeaked, as he jumped in the air, and blew all of his energy out of his fur in a sudden shower of lightning bolts.
The water soaked and vine covered pigeotto didn’t have a chance. Just as before they fell to Earth around the electric mouse, who dropped, but managed to stay upright, this time, tottering from side to side and grinning foolishly.
Adam was breathing heavily, looking very surprised, as Matt handed him his bedraggled pigey. “Yeah thanks,” Adam muttered.
“Yeah,” Mel agreed, looking at Matt with something close to gratitude. “I didn’t even think about Dive. Bolt would have probably finished her off if you hadn’t stepped in. Thanks.”
Matt shrugged, reverting to a more taciturn approach to life until they stopped embarrassing him with praise. He turned away from Mel to pick up the pokeball containing his new weedle when he noticed two things. One, the pikachu was missing, and two so was his pokeball.
“OI!” he cried out. “Where’d that rodent go? It stole my weedle!”
He clicked his tongue at Tirith and both stormed away, before Mel or Adam could call them back. “Oh no,” Mel sighed. “He’s going to get lost now.”
“Not necessarily,” Adam replied, getting out his pokedex as he checked over the pigeotto. “He’s still got his pokedex, and we can always find him using ours. Hey, I like the stats on this one. I’m not sure I want this aggressive guy in my party just yet, but maybe for later when Dive’s grown big enough to control him.”
Adam pulled out a pokeball from his jeans pocket, and tapped the capture button on the beak of the fainted bird that he was looking at. The ball rocked violently, and then subsided with a small beep. Adam clicked a few buttons on his pokedex, and then the pokeball dissappeared with a flash.
“How did you do that?” Mel wanted to know.
“Huh? Oh, it’s simple, really,” Adam said confidently. “The thing about pokeballs is that they convert matter into energy, and then are able to store that energy inside them. The whole PC system is designed to follow that same basic principle. It converts the matter of the pokeballs into energy, and takes in the energy of the pokemon, and can reverse the process, or send the energy to other places that are designed to store the complex amount of information involved in pokemon energy. Our pokedexes have been modified to be able to do that, and so I just sent my pokemon into my PC at home. I’ll e-mail my older sister, and she can let that guy out. She’s wants to be a breeder, you know; it’ll make good practice.”
“Right,” Mel sighed. She wasn’t certain if she’d ever get a chance to try that. Why wasn’t her aim better?
“Well, c’mon,” Adam straightened up, and pulled out his pokedex. “Matt’s crashing around over there,” he pointed, after consulting the display screen.
Both humans and pokemon trudged into the wet undergrowth on the side of the small path. Mel was surprised at how quickly the worn earth and tamped down leaves of the path became ferns, and piles of leaves, concealing dead logs, and sharp stones, which didn’t spare either her or Adam.
Every time she fell into a gully, or tripped over a rock Lapis would sigh and shake his head. He went slower than the humans, but his progress was much steadier. As for Bolt, the pichu was racing away excitedly through the undergrowth, calling out occassionally, as he sat on a log and waited for the clumsy humans to catch up.
Mel was also jumpy from the quiet of the place. They had only been walking for three minutes, but already not a pokemon could be heard, besides Bolt. Forests, she decided, were creepy.
Soon enough, though, they heard crashing, and came upon Matt as he continued to storm through the leaves. Tirith looked in a very bad mood, as well, and when she saw Adam and Mel behind Matt she quickly turned around and bit her trainer in the ankle.
Matt stopped, and turned around, fuming. “Have you two found that yellow menace?” he demanded.
“No,” Mel began.
“Then keep looking!” Matt was obviously in a temper.
“We’re searching the entire forest for one pikachu,” Adam tried to point out reasonably. “It’s going to take a while. And we don’t even know where it’s gone.”
“Oh, but maybe we could,” Mel exclaimed suddenly, pulling her pokedex out. The drizzle coming through the leaves was only coming in sporadic drips, and she hoped that it would be alright. “Chrono, turn on.”
The hologram flipped on with a crackle. “Hello,” Chrono said, looking around, “what’s going on?” Both Matt and Adam were looking at Mel.
“You named that thing?” Adam vocalized their simaltanious thought.
“Well, yeah,” Mel shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.
“You were one of those kids who had a pet rock, weren’t you?” Adam guessed.
“No,” Mel said stubornly, not telling them about her plastic eevee good luck charm. “Anyway, Chrono, could you scan for pikachu?”
“Certainly,” the red-eyed image beamed, and a drop fell on his head, making him crackle. “Why?”
“A pikachu stole Matt’s pokeball,” Mel told the hologram.
“Well, there are – five pikachu within my scaning range. Or at least there are five electrical energy sources that I can feel,” Chrono replied, speaking as the pokedex. “Two are in a group, but the other three are in totally different directions.”
“Um, what’s your scanning range?” Adam inqured, seeing the immediate problem.
“Oh, the same as your other pokedexes,” Chrono told them. “About a mile. I can’t tell you for certain where a pokemon is though, unless I’m within fifty feet of it, however.”
“A mile!” Mel looked upset.
“Yup. Don’t worry, though,” Chrono advised. “You can always split up. One to cover each pikachu, and then send an e-mail once you find the pokeball. Your pokedexes can do the tracking for you.”
The two boys nodded, and pulled out their pokedexes, Adam activating his hologram, Matt just typing his instructions to his pokedex. The ten year old boy instinctively distrusted anything that made flashy lights. He didn’t mind it coming from Mel’s pokedex. That was her own business, after all, and not his. But he wasn’t going to put up with it.
They chose each direction to go off in, and went, their pokemon keeping up, or in Bolt’s case, dodging and diving ahead. Mel went to the left, North as the compass in her back pack said, although she didn’t know it. Matt continued to forage straight ahead, or due West. Adam got the angle between their two paths, going North West, although his pokedex was telling him to go slightly more to the North.
However, even though Adam was vaguely going in her direction, soon the silence of the forest closed around Mel, and she began to get a crawly feeling on the back of her neck. She stumbled through the undergrowth, tripping over more tree roots than she had time to contemplate. Chrono glided silently along beside her, although when she misjudged a jump over a depression in the ground, and came down heavily into the leaves he helped her up.
Mel sat down, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She was hot, despite the cool air, and the misty drizzle that occasionally dripped onto her from the canopy. Her backpack felt as if it weighed a ton.
“Chrono, is it always this creepy in a forest?” she asked the hologram, as she decided to take a rest.
“What do you mean by creepy? Is that a feeling? I am only a machine. I have not been programmed with feelings, Professor Oak thought it would be better if I was not,” Chrono pointed out. “I think there is a microchip that has been made in order to simulate emotions in machines,” he trailed off. “I wonder if it really has. Oh, could we find out?” he asked excitedly.
“This is your curiosity talking, isn’t it?” Mel inquired.
“Yes, it is,” Chrono replied with a nod. “There is nothing more interesting than the acquisition of new knowledge. To know is to -- something.”
Mel giggled. “Did you make that last one up?” she asked.
“No,” the hologram told her, looking down at his trainer, his black hair flopping down somewhat to shadow the gleaming rubies of his eyes. “Everything I say is just programing. Very sophisticated programing, and since you activated the curiosity personality, it is spontaneous programing, but it’s just programing. I can’t make things up. You wouldn’t need or want a pokedex that would invent information about pokemon, after all.”
“Well, yes, I can see that,” Mel said, turning to see if Lapis was still with them. Apparently her squirtle had taken the same opportunity as his trainer to rest, and was now inside his shell. Turning back to Chrono, Mel tried to get back to her original line of thought.
“Okay, but still, this forest disturbs me. Are all forests like this?”
“Why does it disturb you?” Chrono asked. “I’m sorry, but the question was too general for a specific answer.”
“Well, it’s just so, so quiet,” Mel guestured helplessly.
“No, then not all forests are like this. This forest wouldn’t be like this if you weren’t here.”
“Huh?” Mel asked.
“Well, the noises in a forest are made by the noises of wind in the trees, the background noises of things growing, or being composted, and most importantly, the noises of the pokemon,” Chrono told her. “When you’re stumbling around like a juggernaut the pokemon are all scared, and flee to other sections, or hide. The ones who don’t flee you have to worry about, because either they’re too sick to flee, have babies that they couldn’t abandon, or are extremely aggressive.”
“Oh,” Mel looked abashed. “Then, it’s creepy here, because the pokemon find me creepy?”
“Yes. Most trainers who don’t drop out usually gain the ability to move places silently instinctively,” Chrono told her. “You can’t catch pokemon in a forest without doing that. It’s different in tall grass or a cave. It’s very easy to surprise a pokemon there. But in other surroundings pokemon listen, and know that you’re there.
“That’s why most water types can only be caught using a fishing rod. A water enviorment is so sensitive to change that within the moment of your getting into it, all the pokemon in the area will know that you happen to be taking up residence in a pool or stream. A hook and lure are small, and so aren’t seen as a threat.”
“All right, then, I’ll practice moving silently,” Mel got up again, and tapped Lapis’ shell.
The squirtle poked his head out tiredly. Life in Professor Oak’s greenhouse had not prepared him for the rigors of travel, especially since squirtle were not nomadic pokemon by nature. They were such competant battlers that they rarely needed to change territory once they had settled down.
“So, Chrono, how do you go along so quietly?” Melamine wanted to know.
“Well, it helps that I can chose to be physically solid or not,” Chrono pointed out, passing his hand through a branch above his head, and then grabing wet leaves, and tugging on them with a crackle of electricity, before letting go. “But, I would guess the first step is not to trip over things so much, so take your time.”
Mel experimented, stepping around the rocks that jutted from under the leaf mold, instead of jumping over them. She also found that this way, she didn’t worry about stepping on logs, and then slipping on their mossy, slick surfaces. But the going was slow, which she complained about.
Lapis just snorted. Slow and steady, after all. He could also sense pokemon coming back out of hiding. There were more rustles in the trees, and undergrowth, though only he would be able to sense that. Viridian was quite a tame forest. The Beedrill were the rulers, and although dangerous, were easy to stay away from, unless you were covered in flower pollen.
However, even though Mel was going slower, she still was making a large amount of noise. Not as bad as a nidoking, now, but still the thrashing was worthy of an enraged donphan, and not a ten year old girl. Lapis was beginning to think that he could understand why humans chose to live all cramped together in cities the way they did. They could probably navigate their city enviorments more easily.
“Um,” Chrono suggested after a bit, “Why don’t you try not walking on twigs so much? They snap and that makes a noise. And it would help if you weren’t shuffling.”
Mel tried very hard to follow this advice. And she actually did manage a degree of quiet. After three more minutes the bird noises of the forest began again, and when Mel looked up she saw bug pokemon, mainly weedle, inching along on the branches far above her head.
Because she was so busy watching the ground, she was going slowly enough for Lapis to catch up. Suddenly, something flashed in the leaf mold, and Mel stopped, stooping to pick it up. The white and red steel casing of a pokeball caught her attention, and she held it in her hands, before pressing the button in the center to release the pokemon. A weedle, badly bruised and damaged popped out, and Mel sighed with relief. “Well, it looks as if we have Matt’s pokeball, return.”
The weedle was swallowed by the red beam of energy, and Mel was just about to pocket it when Lapis swung around to a cry of “Piiiiii ka!”
((End Part One))
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 8, 2007 21:06:35 GMT -5
((Part Two))
Adam didn’t mind tramping around in a silent forest. After a while he let Bolt do the leading, as the pichu was obviously better at it than his hologram. Soon, however, Adam heard sounds that puzzled him. Moving towards his left he heard an angry hissing through the trees. Peeking around a trunk, he saw a man sitting cross legged berating a pikachu.
“What do you mean, you dropped it?! These Kantoese pokemon are worth hundreds in Hoenn. I’ve had to send Dash out to retrieve it, and we can’t move camp until he comes back. If those trainers stumble onto here in their search for the “wild” pikachu I’ll ring your scrawny neck. Hey, you!”
The man looked up right into Adam’s concerned face.
Adam decided to step out into the open. There wasn’t much else to do, after all. Besides, while big and simple, and sometimes immature, he wasn’t stupid. He knew he could use his size to pretend to be much older.
“I believe that you have some explaining to do, mister,” Adam said solidly, his hands clasped behind his back, holding his pokedex. Where was that emergency contact button? He knew it would contact all pokedexes in scanning area.
~ ~ ~
Lapis tumbled backwards, bowled over by the quick attack of another healthy pikachu. The electric pokemon skidded as it turned to dash past Lapis again.
“Roll to the side, and withdraw!” Mel instructed.
Lapis moved with fairly good speed, for someone who had just been knocked off his feet by a speeding mouse. But it wasn’t fast enough. The pikachu slammed into him a second time, sending him spinning into a tree. His shell hit with a resounding crack, and Mel gasped as if she was the one who had been hit.
“Withdraw! Withdraw!”
“Don’t know if this is a good time,” Chrono said nervously, as Lapis popped into his shell.
“Piiiiiii,” yellow lightning spat from the pikachu’s cheeks.
“But Adam’s pokedex has been—,”
Lightning arched over the ground to zap the water pokemon.
“Go! Weedle!”
The spinning pokeball deflected the thundershock in a shower of sparks, and then the bug pokemon was rearing up, and looking around in confusion. Mel was breathing heavily, praying that the gamble of putting the weedle in direct danger would work, and the pikachu was looking surprised. However, surprise quickly gave way to anger, and the chubby little mouse dropped to the ground and sprinted forward in a quick attack.
“Poison sting,” Mel breathed, hoping that the pokemon would take her orders. He was newly caught, and she hadn’t been the one to catch him, but perhaps—the pikachu hit him with the force of a cannon ball, knocking the worm back. The weedle spun around on the dirt, and then with a furious cry of “Weeeeee!” shining barbs erupted from his mouth.
The pikachu screamed in agony, and danced backwards.
“Weedle, string shot!” Mel ordered quickly. “Lapis, get out of your withdraw!”
Grey misting thread streamed from the bug pokemon’s mouth, covering the pikachu in foam. The weedle didn’t particularly remember the female human but the way she was giving orders meant that she obviously was in control of the situation. Besides, the weedle felt that arguments were silly. He knew that some pokemon wouldn’t listen t their humans, and while he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about having been captured there was nothing he could realistically do.
The same was true for the struggling pikachu, who was now wrapped in a cocoon of sticky, and rapidly hardening weedle drool. The black eyes of the creature narrowed dangerously, and the visible fur fluffed up. Lighting hissed through the air, and struck the small bug pokemon, who reared back in pain.
“Poison sting and tackle!” Mel cried.
Matt’s weedle shot a volley of needles at the pikachu, while Lapis cannoned into the pokemon from behind. The pokemon toppled forward, and promptly fainted. Mel let go of the breath she was holding.
“Okay weedle, now we need to find your trainer,” she began when Chrono interrupted.
“Er, about that. Adam’s pokedex began sending out an emergency signal about a minute ago, maybe less,” Chrono began.
Mel’s eyes widened, and then she grabbed the holographic hand and yelled: “Which way!”
~~~
Bolt rolled backward, sparks leaping from his fur. The bigger pikachu growled menacingly, pulling the electricity away from Bolt. Adam’s pokedex had already told him that the scruffy man’s pokemon happened to be a volt absorber, and was practically immune to paralysis.
Adam breathed heavily, feeling worried. Bolt was doing fine on his own, but Adam just couldn’t think of anything. No brilliant plans or ideas popped into the young trainer’s head, and while Bolt wasn’t doing too badly, his strength wasn’t even near that of the evolved electric pokemon.
“Tirith, leech seed!”
With a sound like someone spitting, seeds began to fire though the air, heading for the pikachu, as Matt crashed into the clearing, red faced and out of breath. Tirith came running in behind him, and skidded to a halt in a shower of leaf mold. The pikachu zipped toward the saurian pokemon, slamming into her with all his might as the leech seeds harmlessly passed over head.
Tirith tipped over backwards, and the poacher’s pikachu spun around, sparks crackling over the yellow fur as a challenging cry of: “Pichu!” came from behind him.
“Thunderbolt the little rat and then knock out the bulbasaur!” The man yelled from the sidelines, greed shining in his eyes.
Matt’s eyes widened and then he dove for Tirith, and grabbed his dazed grass pokemon, backing up slowly to put his back to a tree.
What sky that could be seen overhead was a mass of rolling grey between dark green leaves. Light lit up the underside of those clouds in a second as the pikachu sent up a thin rail of electricity. There was the rumble of thunder, and then a thick bolt of lightning shot down, engulfing the small pichu.
“Vital stats in overload,” intoned Adam’s pokedex emotionlessly. “Bio-electric routers shutting down. Discharge imminent.”
“What does that mean?!” Adam yelled, his hand trying to shield his eyes from the blast of light, and yet still search the battlefield for Bolt.
“The pichu named Bolt will explode soon,” the pokedex informed him simply. “Most likely taking much of this clearing with him.”
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Post by Nyaa-Neko on Feb 8, 2007 21:39:38 GMT -5
NUUUUUUUUU! NO EXPLODING PICHU, NO EXPLODING PICHU! NO 'SPLODE! 'SPLODIN' BAD! BAD BAD BAAAAAD! But, um, other than the fact I really don't want the cute little baby mousey to die (T_T) I thought it was really well-written. I loved how you portrayed everything, the forest, characters, Pokedexes, sleazy Hoenn guy... And your word choice was really great. ^_^ But one time you said "t" instead of "to." -_- Don't remember where, though. -_-;; BUT NO 'SPLODE THE PICHU!
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 8, 2007 22:18:03 GMT -5
Akk, okay. I didn't think I was really going to (I don't think I could write Adam in greif very well). However, I've now stopped playing with the idea altogether. Does this make you happier?
I still have two other things I could do, and I don't know which one to choose. <sighs>
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Post by Nyaa-Neko on Feb 9, 2007 19:04:36 GMT -5
Good. No splode. No splode is good. *nod nod*
Erm...go with the idea...that...has the plastic spork. Yus. Plastic spork. *nod nod*
But...when I have to choose between two things like that, I usually just go with whichever one I have a gut feeling on. Sometimes I ask my beta...Nao-chan got some of that back when I had TIME to write. ^_^;;
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Jason-Kun
Pikamew
I'm in your box...eating your pokemon
Posts: 488
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Post by Jason-Kun on Feb 9, 2007 19:16:55 GMT -5
SPLODE!!! LET IT SPLODE!!!!!!
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Post by MorriganFearn on Feb 9, 2007 20:35:59 GMT -5
I might write two alternate chapters and then let the Jenta-ites decide which they like better before I put the real chapter up on fic-wad. I'm a little worried that things will be happening too fast, with all that I want to fit in. I don't want anyone to become uber powerful (of course, making it impossible for Mel to have more than her squirtle for a long while is going to help... I should give her more pokemon... but she does have that mystery egg...)
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Post by MorriganFearn on Apr 29, 2007 17:19:20 GMT -5
Chapter Ten: The Wife and Kids
((Okay, I've been having trouble with the dialog in this chapter. The rangers aren't down very well, I don't think, and the ending seems too pat. Any comments/Suggestions are appreciated.))
“Anything, Freckles?” Joanna asked, trying not to sound nervous as her kecleon faded into view. She was, for now, the commanding officer of this mission, and a blasted forest was hampering her! She had grown up in Fortree City for Rayquaza’s sake! She shouldn’t be getting stumped by a forest.
“Calm down, Jo,” Jack put in behind her. “Rangers aren’t known for their amazingly quick response rate.”
“They’re also not known for lagging like this, and I don’t want to be the one getting us that reputation!” Joanna snapped.
Jack sighed, Joanna was an amazing battler, and could take command in a snap, but she hated being judged, which made her loose all nerve. Of course, that was exactly what the entire two years in Kanto would be: one big judgment trial.
“We’ve done the best we could!” Rusty protested. “Not twenty minutes after Professor Oak contacted us on the radio we’re in the Viridian forest, which takes most people a week to travel through. We have tens of miles to search! Those kids can’t have gone very far in, Freckles will find them, don’t worry.”
The world suddenly became one of extreme light and shadow. Joanna glanced at the sky visible through the foliage squinting against the bright sustained flash of electricity.
“Go, Finder!” She tossed the premier ball and vaulted onto the back of the massive Arcanine as he appeared. Jack pulled Rusty along with him as he jumped after his commander.
“Well, at least we know where to find them,” he said pragmatically.
“Extreme speed. Burn anything that gets in the way!” Joanna instructed, crouching low over the striped back.
~ ~ ~
Bolt screamed in pain as power coursed through his small fluffy body. Lightning resistant fur was burning away in the center of the prolonged lightning bolt. This pain needed to stop! It needed to change! Through the film of agony and light he could see the pikachu smirking to itself as it leeched power from the thunderbolt, bolstering its reserves, as it watched the younger rodent curl up in a ball of pain.
Adam yelled in horror, a wordless sound of terror and fear. Bolt was his starter, and he wouldn’t be in this mess if Adam hadn’t ordered him into it. And then Adam was running into the burning light. All sense had deserted him. He just had to keep Bolt alive and in one piece.
His skin blistered, and he felt the charge go through him making all the muscles throb, and overloading the delicate miracle of biology that was the human body. It took less than a second for him to hit the ground near Bolt’s twitching form.
Bolt gazed at his trainer through a haze of suffering. Big Human was hurt, and it was his stupid fault! He had to change this, he had to! He had to take the pain from his trainer. The childish pokemon pulled at the terrible crackling power. It was torching his skin, but now he sucked it through that thin membrane, making it fill him.
The burned little body rose, glowing, as the lightning drained into it. Bolt trembled, holding in the power. The pain had become so bad that he couldn’t feel it anymore. Everything was numb, but he was full of light. Sparks tore into the ground as the young pichu moved. The pikachu, sensing the massive build up in electrical energy, backed up in fear.
Bolt could feel something building inside him. But he had a choice. Let the power go, or use it. The light brightened, and he felt his muscles restoring themselves, as his body built newer better shock breakers inside himself, feeing off the electrical energy he stored.
A howl rose in the distance, and something russet burst from the trees and crashed into the clearing. Bolt ignored it concentrating on his foe.
“Piiiiiiiiika!” the glowing pokemon screamed, zooming into the opposing pikachu with a lightning charged quick attack.
The older electric type was knocked into a tree as the arcanine skidded to a halt, and a female human jumped down.
“Chansey!” a flash of light appeared, and died, and then a big round pink thing was running over to Adam.
Bolt looked around, as two male humans walked over to the older male that the arcanine was menacing. Bolt shivered, as adrenaline, and extra electricity suddenly checked out of the hotel of his body without paying. The small discharge in every direction was fairly harmless though, and this knowledge relaxed Bolt enough to topple forward. He was just going to sleep right now.
~ ~ ~
Mel tripped and fell over another log, her foot caught in a tangle of ferns. However, she pushed herself up on stinging hands and ran forward until she came into the demolished campsite the poacher had set up. Lapis stumbled out of the undergrowth after her, Chrono floating along behind.
She looked around wildly. Matt was sitting with Tirith, talking to the ranger, Jack, who Mel had met at the pokemon center yesterday. Rusty was standing over a scruffy man, whose arms were tied behind his back, saying something while an arcanine sat guard. The eldest ranger was standing next to a chansey, as the egg pokemon wrapped bandages around an unmoving form on the ground.
The commotion that Mel had made getting out of the forest drew the female ranger’s attention, and Joanna walked over to her.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the ranger asked in a no nonsense tone of voice.
“Wash—Melamine Brown,” Mel answered nervously. “I was told that the emergency signal on Adam’s pokedex had been activated.”
“Adam? Big guy, has a pikachu?” Joanna questioned.
“Er, yes, only no. Bolt’s just a pichu,” Mel replied, looking distressed, “what’s going on?”
“Spot evolution, then,” Joanna muttered. “Look, your friend ran into a poacher. We got a call from Professor Oak telling us that one of his pokedexes was blinking a distress signal in the Viridian Forest. Your friend got crisped by a thunderbolt from the looks of things. My chansey is healing him right now, in fact. Don’t worry he’ll be fine,” Joanna put a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder as Mel took a step forward, shock and fear on her features. “Now, I need to know what happened from the moment that you set foot in this forest.”
Mel looked up at Joanna wide-eyed. Adam was hurt and she was supposed to tell stories?! The expression in the young woman’s eyes was firm and commanding. Mel swallowed, and then began retelling the day’s events, from the pikachu attack, and the pidgeotto flock to the stealing of Matt’s weedle, to her discovery of the weedle’s pokeball, and the ensuing battle, and finally she got up to the point where she had burst into the poacher’s camp site.
“You have the weedle?” Joanna asked.
Mel nodded, breathing out, something that had tightened inside of her was easing slightly.
“Good. We’ll take that and Freckles and your squirtle and go and find that Pikachu. Luckily this guy was an amateur and only had two pokemon,” Joanna said crisply, beginning to walk back the way that Mel had come.
The crashing path that Mel had made was easy to follow, and they reached the spot with the bound pikachu far too quickly in Mel’s mind. However, this was only to be expected, as her mind was back in the clearing with the vague shape that she had seen of Adam and all sorts of horrors that her imagination could visit upon him.
“Right,” Joanna strode over, and tapped a strange green ball to the pikachu’s head. “Thank you, Miss Brown. We can go back and arrange a campsite for you and your friends.”
“What?” Mel looked around bewildered.
“Your friend, the one who was shocked, shouldn’t try to walk around for at least four days, and you’ll have to take it slow. We’ll have to find you three a permanent place to set up, and teach you about fresh water, and such. Luckily you’re not too far from Viridian, so one of you can always run back and get more supplies. I’ll be sending Chansey down to get pain medication, anyway.”
“But, but,” Mel stumbled, and then trotted to catch up with Joanna, who was already walking away. She felt there was something wrong with this arrangement. Shouldn’t Adam be going to a hospital? They had said he had been crisped.
“Look,” Joanna thrust her hands into her coat pockets, correctly judging the concern. “Your friend is going to be terrified of the idea of battling after this, most likely. He won’t be able to train properly. He’s not that badly hurt. Just skin burns, and advanced paralysis. He can completely heal from all that within four weeks, and he can be well enough to keep going in five days.
“But we take him to a hospital and he’ll probably give up on ever being a trainer. He’ll go to some tech school, and start up a normal life without once coming out of the protective shell he will have built around himself.
“I’ve seen this happen with rangers. If they are forced back onto the metaphorical rapidash they’re fine. If you take them to some white washed room smelling of disinfectant and isolation they can’t bring themselves to go back,” Joanna sighed. “It’s a mental game that their head plays with them. Once you can prove to him that battling isn’t going to nearly kill him or his pokemon everything will work out properly.”
Mel didn’t understand what Joanna was saying, not even all the words made sense, let alone the context, but she just nodded and went along with it anyway. Arguing didn’t seem sensible at a time like this. Lapis trudged along beside her in his stoic fashion, and didn’t say anything to contradict the ranger.
When they got back to the former poacher’s camp, Mel was made to sit down next to Matt, while the rangers quickly packed away the poacher’s belongings, labeling, and cataloguing each one. Joanna’s chansey bustled around Adam, while Rusty kept watch over the handcuffed and bound poacher. Jack was no where to be seen, but from what Joanna had said, Mel guessed that he was trying to find a new camp site for all of them to move to.
Matt was completely silent, just holding Tirith, and staring at the ground. Mel looked longingly over her shoulder, but Joanna was too busy talking on her cell phone to chat with, and Rusty shouldn’t be distracted. Mel sighed internally. She would have liked to talk to someone about all the confusion and confusing-ness. All in all, Mel felt pretty miserable.
It didn’t even matter that the drizzle that had been plaguing them the whole day seemed to have abated. Mel felt drizzly inside, and this was something she had never experienced, and didn’t particularly want to.
Joanna clicked her phone shut, and came over to the duo. She sat down on a log across from Mel and Matt and sighed. “All right, the Viridian police are going to be coming here, and asking you some questions. Basically you’ll have to tell then what you told us. It’s nothing really, but they want their records straightened, and the Viridian gym leader will want to know things, apparently. Don’t know why. Anyway, you’ll have to stay put until they’re finished with you. Think that you can do that? Hey, bulba-boy,” Joanna snaked her fingers out, and tilted Matt’s chin up so that he was no longer staring at the ground. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Do you think you can handle this?”
“Yeah,” Matt yanked his chin away, and glared at the ground again.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mel said quickly, trying to draw Joanna’s attention away from Matt. “What’s so strange about the gym leader wanting a report, ma’am? Viridian Forest is considered to be under his jurisdiction. He’ll have to judge the case when the poacher comes up before him.”
Joanna looked at Mel. “Really? So your gym leaders double as arbiters here? We don’t do it like that in Hoenn.”
“Arbi-whats?” Mel looked confused. “Gym leaders always deal with all pokemon related crimes. Kanto’s split up into,” she thought for a moment back to her classes with Professor Oak, “sixteen districts, and each district has a Judge and a Gym Leader. The judge deals with human related crimes, and the gym leader with pokemon related crimes. When they are intertwined both sit in on the case, and rule on it. Each district is usually defined as the areas around each town, although a few districts just contain one gym, and a collection of smaller family villages. Have I got it right?” Mel looked at Matt. He shrugged. He’d never really listened to half of the classes he’d attended.
“Really?” Joanna’s tone grew more interested, bordering on the cynical. “That’s very interesting. In Hoenn, the pokemon league and the legal system are not quite so close. We just have arbiters who decide things for a certain district. Bah,” she rose in a fluid movement, and stalked over to the chansey. “How is he, Chansey?”
The borrowed pokemon looked at Joanna and clapped her flippers together to indicate that the human boy would be fine. “Chan chan.”
“That’s a relief. I’m sure the pokemon center wants you back as soon as possible. If I give you to Finder can you get the proper pain medication?”
The pink pokemon clapped her flippers again, and added, in case the human didn’t understand: “Chan chan.”
“Finder, come here,” Joanna called.
The giant arcanine rose from his guard position, and trotted over. Joanna returned the chansey, and handed the pokeball to the arcanine. Finder bit down on the ball, and then dashed back through the trail he had blazed only half an hour ago.
Mel watched him go, feeling too numb to be amazed. Joanna and Finder barely had to exchange words and he understood what was asked of him. Did all trainers get that good, or was it only rangers in particular?
“They’re pretty amazing,” she muttered to herself.
“Yeah.” Mel jumped, and looked at Matt. He had put Tirith down, and was watching Joanna as she stood over the poacher with Rusty. He looked over at Mel, and then down to the ground, scowling. “Adam shouldn’t have confronted that guy. He can’t handle battle situations.”
“Huh?” Mel asked.
“He froze up. I’ve noticed that he lets his pokemon do most of the battling for him. He likes pokemon, but he shouldn’t battle with them. Not intense battles at any rate. He doesn’t know what to do.” Matt kicked angrily at the ground. “If Adam wasn’t so weak and stupid he wouldn’t be lying there like a dead body!”
Mel leaned back, her eyes wide in comparison to Matt’s intense, scrunched face. “Matt, he couldn’t help it. He probably had his reasons.”
“His reasons. His reasons! He’s an idiot who can’t handle himself, those are his reasons!” Matt scrubbed at an eyelid, his voice a low vehement hiss. “If you’d have been there you would have taken charge of the battle. That poacher was an idiot, and he only got this far because Adam was a bigger one. You and Lapis would have figured something out.”
Mel would have felt more pleased by the words if Matt hadn’t seemed to throw them in her face like dirt. “It’s not my fault that we were—,” she began to protest.
“No, it’s not your fault,” Matt agreed. “You were too far away. You didn’t run into the clearing, and then haul your pokemon away like a coward just so she wouldn’t be stolen. You would have made us pull together and be a team.” He picked up a rock and flung it harshly at the nearest tree.
Mel didn’t know what to say. However, seeing as talking had only made Matt even more angry she decided to pay attention to Lapis the way Matt was keeping track of Tirith. After all, it was better to clam up, than provide a big target for ammunition.
Mel bent to provide close turtle shell inspection. The few thundershock strikes had left blackened portions on the red plates, and when she ran a finger over them Lapis replied with an indignant “Squitle!”
“All right,” she sighed. “I won’t continue.”
She straightened up, and something red and white fell from her lap. She picked up the pokeball, and quickly turned. “Oh, I forgot, here’s your weedle.”
Matt looked at her confused, as she held out the pokeball.
“I found your weedle,” Mel repeated. “Perhaps you’d like it back?”
Matt took the pokeball, his face twitching strangely. Then he began to snort with laughter. One look at Melamine’s highly confused face made it impossible to stop the giggles, and he began to laugh outright.
“What’s so funny?” Mel protested.
“Nothing,” Matt tried to suppress the expression in his face once again, and released the weedle.
“What?!” Mel asked.
“Nothing, Wash Pot,” this only made him begin to chuckle again.
“I’ll brain you with my pokedex!” the girl warned, and Chrono, keeping a respectful distance away, looked up with a surprised: “Steady on!”
“Nothing, I was just thinking,” Matt stared at the weedle and finally managed to get his laughter under control, “about what Alex would have said. “That weedle isn’t an ‘it,’ he’s a he. And you’re an idiot girl not for knowing the difference.” Mew, I could almost hear him, and it was just so funny. You can remember all the stupid classes that we’ve had, but you can’t tell pokemon’s genders apart, and can’t throw pokeballs, and you sit back like a lump half the time, pretending to be as dumb as a post.”
“Oh thanks,” Mel said in exasperation. “I do not pretend to be as dumb as a post, and if anyone is lump-like, it’s you. I don’t think I’ve heard you say more than two sentences each day until now. And at least I can name my pokemon.”
Matt stuck out his tongue. “The only one you own.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that weedle’s name then?”
“Um,” Matt looked at a loss for words, and then smirked. “Disaster. Because that’s what today has been.”
“Weedle,” the bug pokemon muttered. Lapis and Tirith nodded in cynical agreement.
Mel laughed light heartedly, feeling still a little nervy but better. They began to talk, something Mel would never have thought possible for the normally taciturn Matt to do. It was easy enough, small talk, mainly about comparing Disaster with Tirith, and reading pokedex data. They even managed to forget about Adam for a short while, until someone came, and tapped Mel on the shoulder. She looked up to see the concerned face of Rusty.
“’Scuse me, but the policemen are here. They’ll be asking the two of you some questions.”
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Post by MorriganFearn on Apr 29, 2007 17:20:06 GMT -5
Just behind him two large men were muttering to one another, looking uncomfortable and out of place in their uniforms. Mel heard a whispered: “Sheesh, last time I was out here it was to take the wife and kids camping--,”
Somehow, the comment seemed to ruin the forest.
The questions took forever. First they questioned Mel, and then they questioned Matt, and then they questioned both of the children together. The light had become slanted and golden by the time the questions were done, and the two natives of Pallet felt alternately wrung out and confused.
Finally however, the older policeman nodded, and the younger said, “Thank you for answering these. I’ve taken all of your information down, as evidence, you understand? You two are witnesses to a crime. We’d like it if you stayed here in Viridian or went home until the trial happens, but we’ve been informed that you two would prefer to continue with your training journeys. However, you two should talk to your parents first. We’re going to subpoena you for the trial, but that might be in two years or so.”
“What? Why?” Mel asked, suddenly on the verge of tears. “We know he did it!”
The younger officer, who had taken his wife and kids to this spot for vacation, smiled reassuringly at the little girl. “There are other cases that the Gym Leader and Judge have to hear, Miss Brown. We need to gather more stable evidence. I doubt that you’re the first people he’s tried to steal from, and others need to have their say. These things happen, all right? But first, you need to call your parents, and your friend --,” he paused and consulted his notebook, “Mr. Goin’s parents.”
“Use my phone,” his elderly partner handed over a battered cell phone that didn’t even have a video chip. “We’ll wait.”
Mel turned to offer the phone to Matt first, but he was staring at the ground again, and obviously didn’t see her, as he made no move to take it. Mel breathed out for a minute, and then dialed her home phone number, hoping that either Mom or Ora would pick up. She didn’t want to explain this stuff to Katherine.
“Hello, this is Cynthia Brown speaking,” her mother’s calm controlled voice came over the phone, with only the slightest crackle of static, thanks to the trees branching overhead.
“Hi, Mom?”
“Hello? Who is this, Melamine, or Katherine?” one of Mrs. Brown’s pet peeves was people who didn’t announce who they were over the phone. For some reason this common place annoyance made Mel laugh in shaky relief. “It’s Melamine, Mom. Look --,”
“Melamine! Sorry I missed you yesterday, sweetie! Why didn’t you call from Viridian?”
“Sorry, Mom, it was late, and I kinda forgot,” Mel shook her head, although her mother couldn’t see. “But, Mom--,”
“Didn’t your father tell you to call when you reached a town? The phones in the Pokemon Centers are free, you know. Never mind. Has the egg hatched yet?” Mel’s mother ploughed on, without listening to her daughter after her question was answered. “You know you need to keep it warm. Luckily, the species I picked for you is very hardy, but it’s always hard to tell what will happen on a journey.”
“No, Mom, but I have something to tell you, all right?” Mel finally managed to say, almost trembling from worry about her mother’s reaction to this. Part of her wanted her mother to order her to come home instantly, and forget about training.
“Okay, darling, I’m listening,” her mother’s voice was a reassuring verbal hug at the other end of the receiver.
“Well, I’m in the Viridian Forest right now, and, well, I’m traveling with Matt Drakan and Adam Goin, right? And Adam ran into a—a,” she looked at the officers helplessly, and the elder of the two whispered “poacher” for her, “poacher and something happened, and he was hit by a stray electric attack. He’s all right, but it’ll take him a week or two to get up and about, and I just wanted you to know that, and could you give me Adam’s phone number? The policemen say his parents will want to know.”
Mel sniffed wetly into the silence from the phone. Then her mother said: “Honey? Melamine? You’re all right, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Well, I fell over some logs. I’m not good at forests.”
There was a small laugh from the Pallet Town end of life. “All right. Do you want to come home, dear?”
“Not really,” Mel lied. “I mean, if you want me to—but I haven’t even begun to train, really.”
“All right, dear. I’m not going to stop you from enjoying your journey. I’ll be calling Adam’s parents. Are you certain he’ll be okay?” Mrs. Brown asked.
“Yeah. There’s a chansey here, and she’s cured almost everything,” Mel said.
“Okay then, be strong, all right? I’ll talk to Adam’s parents. They might want him to come home, understand? And I’m calling your father, he will meet you in Pewter with a cell phone, and you’re to call every day, understand? Every day. I don’t care if you’re tired, or there’s no reception unless you walk for a mile, you will call us. How long before you’re in Pewter?”
“Well, Adam won’t be able to walk for a week, and it’s about four more days until we get out of the forest, so a week and five days, maybe?” Mel told her mother after some mental calculation.
“Hmm. Do you have E-mail?” Cynthia didn’t sound as if she liked the sound of what Mel had just said.
Over by the returned Finder, watching Joanna administer medicine from a carrying case with interest, Chrono nodded emphatically, and pointed at the pokedex strapped to Mel’s pack.
“Well, I can e-mail Professor Oak, I think.”
“You had better do that regularly, then,” her mother told her sternly, before adding, “I will talk to him, as well as Adam’s parents. And—Mathew Drakan is there with you, you say? I can talk to his father as well. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. Can you give me to the policemen, now? I’d like to talk to them.”
Mel breathed out gratefully. “Yes, Mom.” She handed the phone back to the gray-haired policeman. “My mother wants to talk to you. Oh, and say your name,” she whispered.
The old man grinned, and took the phone. “Sergeant Morrison, here.”
Mel turned to Matt, the knot in her stomach easing slightly. “Mom said she’d talk to your dad.”
Matt shrugged. “Good, I guess. When can we go?”
“As soon as the policeman tells you that you can go,” the three rangers melted out of the background right behind the two kids, and Jack nodded at both of them. “We’ve set up a camp site for you three. Finder will move your friend there, and I can show you around.”
Mel looked anxiously at the younger policeman, who raised an eyebrow. “Is it by that stream and the plum tree?”
Jack nodded. “Yes, fresh water and food never did anyone harm.”
“I know the place. We went camping there last summer. It’s a regular spot for families. There is plenty of firewood, and the basic amenities. Why don’t you take them there? If we need to know anything else we know where to find you.”
Jack nodded, and the little group set off down a path heading west of the clearing. Mel was amazed that Jack had been able to find the small dirt track in the tangled undergrowth of trees and ferns. It made her also realize that there had been a path leading from the clearing in a different direction, as she pictured the place in her head. Were these paths all over the forest? She could have saved herself a lot of falling down if she had realized it sooner.
The path began to climb steadily, although the trees thinned out a bit, until they reached the crest of a grassy hill. A dark green tent was already set up, the leaf symbol of the rangers imprinted on its side in white. “That’ll be for Adam and Matt,” Jack told the two trainers as they looked at it. “You, Miss Mel, will have to set up your own tent. There’s an outhouse up the path a little ways. Just down the hill over there,” he pointed to the right, “is a plum tree. They’re a little under ripe, but it you run out of food you could try them. To the left is a stream. Don’t get soap in it. There’s a non-toxic shampoo in the med kit the chansey made up for your friend, use that and do it down stream,” he walked the pair over to the shallow stream and scooped up some of the clear water. “Don’t drink from here unless you’ve boiled it first, I mean it. It’s fresh water, and good, but you never know what it might contain. Have you got food?”
“I’ve got some cans of soup and ravioli,” Mel volunteered as Matt shrugged.
Jack sighed. “You’ll need more. One of you is going to have to walk back to Viridian to get it in two or three days. And someone needs to be with Adam at all times. It’d be better if there were four of you, but bring extra pokemon along, when you go to Viridian, I suppose. I’d also like it if the person who isn’t watching your friend trains his pokemon for him. You might as well get stronger if you can. That pikachu should be ready to get up and move in two or three days, but don’t force him to use electric attacks unless he’s ready. The chansey checked him out as okay, just exhausted, but you never know.”
He led them back up the hill to see Joanna coming out of the tent, dusting her hands off in the manner of someone who has just done a good job. “Well, come on you two,” she said, catching sight of the beleaguered trainers drowning in information. “Let’s set up that second tent.”
Several pegs, ropes, tangles of ropes, and an exasperated look at the instruction booklet later, Mel copied Joanna as the older teen flopped onto the grass. “Whatever happened to “this is your tent pole, and a couple of rocks, get to it”?” Joanna asked Jack.
The young man shrugged, grinning. “Everything’s gotten technical these days. At least you got it up.”
“Amen to that,” Joanna rose slowly. “We’ve got to get going. We’ll try to check in on you every other day or so, but we never know when another job will pop up.” She sauntered over to the tent, and returned her arcanine, as Rusty and Jack followed her.
Mel looked at the setting sun through the leaves of the plum tree, as Matt poked the red bubble-shaped tent experimentally.
“You think we should make dinner?” Mel asked.
“Rusty set up the fire pit, while you were arguing with the tent,” Matt shrugged. “Have you got any matches?”
“In the small outer pocket next to the incubator,” Mel replied, moving to get up tiredly. Right now she envied Adam, lying sleeping in the large green tent.
Chrono, who had been looking through Mel’s pack after having found the instruction manual for the tent, held them up. “Here they are.”
Matt swiped them and stalked off to the charred area of grass and ring of stones that denoted the fire pit. Striking a match from the box on a stone he held it to the dried moss that they had used as tinder, and waited for it to catch. Mel walked over to Chrono, and hunted through her pack for a can of ravioli, and her set of collapsible cooking gear.
She tossed the can towards Matt (it missed its mark by a yard and he had to pick it up with rolled eyes), as she brought out the small blue bag with all the clever little camping stuff. “I’ll get the tripod out and then heat the can up, okay?” she said to Matt, who paused mid-inaudible grumble.
“Wash Pot? That’s not how you cook it.”
“Huh? But it’s gotta be. You take the ravioli heat up the can, open the can, and then eat it,” Mel said, using deductive reasoning about the cooking process.
“There’s a pan involved for a start. You heat up the can and it’s likely to explode. Don’t you ever cook at home?” Matt asked, as he walked over and lifted the blue bag of cooking utensils from her hands.
“No,” Mel looked at the ground. “Ora and Mom do most of the cooking. I didn’t know you knew how to cook.”
Matt shrugged, as he found a miniature cork screw with an old fashioned can opener at the other end within the contents of the bag, and a nested set of pans with long plastic handles. “I know how to heat things up. I thought girls learned how to do that sort of stuff when they were five.”
“I didn’t.”
Lapis and Tirith, who had gone off to the stream together, returned, and Lapis, annoyed at the ashamed tone in Mel’s voice, began an angry diatribe at Matt. Tirith promptly bit the squirtle on the tail, and Mel and Matt had to dive to separate them. By the time the scuffle ended it was almost fully dark, and Matt quickly opened the can, and poured the contents into the largest pan, and set it over the fire to heat.
Mel found two plates in the welter of her supplies, and together they spooned down the tomato sauce with the occasional piece of pasta submerged under it. Mel put her plate aside, and looked up at the stars, framed all around with branches twisting up into the heavens. Lapis was beside her, everything tucked neatly into his shell. Tirith and Matt were across the way, Matt trying to tempt Disaster with a bit of half eaten ravioli, and Tirith sleeping as well, having gone to be when the sun went down. The fire crackled, throwing up a shower of sparks into the air.
Mel breathed out into the late summer night. This was really quite nice.
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