3rd March 2013, 12:51 PM #1
◓Gypsy Vanner Horse
This might start out as a generic story, but it won't feature any Badge collecting; so I hope that doesn't deter you. Enjoy the story!
§1: Destined for Greatness
§2: Mad Petals
Last edited by Kyuuketsuki; 7th March 2013 at 03:55 PM.
3rd March 2013, 12:52 PM #2
◓Gypsy Vanner Horse
§1: Destine for Greatness
False peace had set on the people of Kanto following Giovanni’s defeat. Red had become the newest, and youngest, champion of Kanto, and Team Rocket had been overthrown.
It was a hopeful time, and it certainly seemed safe. That combination couldn’t come at a better time for Timothy Rush. Having been denied the opportunity of starting his own Pokémon journey two years in succession, he was sure this was going to be the year in which he finally leaves the house.
When he was eleven, his mother had told him that he was too young, and when he became twelve, Team Rocket was on the loose, and, fearing for his safety, his mother once again denied him the chance to start his own adventure.
But now that he was thirteen, old enough to travel on his own, and the region of Kanto was free from terror, there was nothing that could stop him. No more obstacles, and no more interruptions can get in his way.
For his age, he was quite tall. His brown hair was neat and brushed, cut short as he often did before starting a big event in his life, a new stage. His eyes were a bright shade of hazel, wide open and determined, even though the sun had not risen yet. He wore a simple blue jeans fit for extensive use, and a plain white t-shirt. He sat opposite the television in the living room, having pulled the black table towards himself.
On it was the poster that Professor Oak had sent out, advertising the new starters, and some basic information regarding the Pokémon, and being a Trainer. At that point, Timothy didn’t care which starter he was going to get; just the fact that he was finally going to start his journey meant much more to him than what Pokémon he would be starting with.
He sat there, reading the Trainer information over and over. The windows started to brighten as the sun slowly rose, and the Pidgey started scouring Pallet Town for food. A few of them waited expectedly outside some doors, their heads taking organised looks around the area.
Timothy lifted his eyes from the poster, looking up at the television that hung from the wall. His hand reached for the remote control, and he switched the set on. He was met with a news report about the weather. Sighing, he got up and walked to the open kitchen, grabbed a bag of seeds, and went to the window.
At that sight, the Pidgey flew up, half of them resting on the windowsill, and half of them flying opposite the glass, before giving up and resting on the ground. Timothy lifted the pane, and threw two handfuls of seeds out of the window. The Pidgey flew off towards the seeds, and started picking at them. Being the only one awake at such an early hour, several of the Pidgey that rested against the other houses flew over and started eating as well. He threw another handful, and shut the window.
‘Timmy, are you downstairs?’ he recognised his mother’s voice.
‘Yeah, mum,’ he replied. ‘And I’m ready.’
The sound of footsteps echoed as Wilma slowly descended the staircase. She was wearing pink pyjamas with blue stripes. Her hair was brown and long, and her eyes were black. Her figure had been slightly lost over the years, but she was as energetic as ever.
‘I was going to wake you up,’ said Wilma as she stepped into the kitchen, where Timothy had been returning the bag of seeds into the cupboard. ‘What do you want for breakfast?’
‘I already ate,’ said Timothy.
‘Cup of tea? Some quick sandwiches? This is your big day.’
‘No, it’s all fine.’
‘Oh, come on, Timmy, you need to eat,’ said Wilma. ‘I’ll just whip up some quick scrambled eggs.’
As he knew any attempts to protest would be in vain, he sat on one of the chairs against the bar, facing the kitchen, but thinking about the day that will come to pass; he had been so sure something was going to get in his way again.
‘Is dad up yet?’
‘No, he’s still asleep,’ said Wilma. ‘It’s too early for him to wake up.’
‘Not that early,’ said Timothy, glancing at the clock perched up on the wall to the oven’s right. ‘He has to be at work in two hours; that’s when he usually wakes up.’
‘But let him rest, he had an exciting night yesterday.’
‘Yeah, he wouldn’t stop talking,’ Timothy sniggered. ‘Kanto is wonderful and all that. He told me to say hi to so many people.’
‘Yes, he’s always been very excitable,’ said Wilma. ‘In fact I’m surprised you’re so calm.’
She pushed a plate of an assortment of food in front of her son, and gave a welcoming smile as he started to eat.
‘I’m really proud of you; you’ve grown up into a wonderful man,’ she said as her fingers tightened around Timothy’s cheeks. ‘I can’t believe how quickly time flies.’
‘Mum, I’m eating,’ said Timothy, trying to pull his face away from his mother’s clutch. ‘And besides, how can I be all grown up if you keep treating me like a little boy.’
‘No one will ever treat you this way, so enjoy it,’ said Wilma as she let go of her son.
She glanced at the television set, and walked off towards the living room, giving her son a pat on the head as she passed. She sat down on the sofa where Timothy had been sitting, and started listening to the reports. Timothy joined her as soon as he had finished his food, at which point Wilma got up to wash the plate.
‘You should wake up your dad,’ she said after a quick glance at the clock. ‘It’s about time he woke up.’
‘It’s fine, I’m already up!’ a voice came from the upper floor. ‘I’ll be down in a second!’
And true to his word, William Rush descended the stairs as soon as he had uttered his words, fiddling with his tie and holding his jacket. He was a tall man of quite a thin build. His hair was dark and blonde, and his eyes were brown, sheltered behind a pair of glasses.
‘Hey, Tim, how’s it going? Excited for today?’
‘Yeah,’ said Timothy simply, his voice failing to reflect the excitement he held within.
‘Breakfast?’ said Wilma. ‘I’m already making mine, should I count you in?’
‘Of course,’ replied William. ‘You certainly look like you’re beaming with energy this morning.’
As his parents exchanged their trivial morning chat, Timothy returned his gaze to the poster displaying the three Pokémon, and for the first time that day, his face was overcome by a smile that lingered for well over minute. He sat there, staring at the poster, unmoving, and thinking of nothing but the fact that the day had finally come.
He started shaking with excitement, and his fingers ruffled his hair, ruining the neat appearance it had held up to that point. He redirected his attention to the television, where a woman was reading out a quick summary of the news stories.
‘Turn up that volume, won’t you, buddy?’ said William, and Timothy obliged.
‘…where some members of the now disbanded Team Rocket were trying to revive the organisation,’ the woman said, and William gave a scoff. ‘And in another story, following up yesterday’s rumors, the Pokémon League finally gave an official statement to newspapers that was made public this morning that it will indeed be closing temporarily.’
‘What?!’ Timothy shouted as he got up, prompting the remote controller to fly off of his, and onto the floor.
‘Following Giovanni’s unexpected outing as the leader of Team Rocket, he fled the region with the aid of some old members of the criminal organisation, leaving the League with a missing Gym Leader,’ the woman continued. ‘After a week of speculation, an official statement from Lance mentioned that, following that incident, as well as some undisclosed problems within the Elite Four, the Pokémon League would be shutting down for now. The rumors of Agatha’s deteriorating health remained unaddressed.’
‘Oh, Timmy… It’s fine,’ said Wilma. ‘I’m sure this will all be sorted out soon enough.’
She had walked over to her son, and her hand rested on his shoulder.
‘It’ll be fine,’ she said again. ‘You can still get your first Pokémon, and you can still go on your journey.’
But Timothy gave no response. He remained frozen on the hard wood floor, mouth gaping, and mind racing. Why had he been stupid enough to believe that nothing would go wrong that year? Why had he allowed his hopes to rise, after trying so hard to suppress them?
‘Look, Tim,’ started William. ‘This will just give you more time to train; what do you think those Gym Leaders will be doing in their free time?’
‘I don’t want to wait another year!’ said Timothy, almost breaking into tears.
‘Why don’t I go with you to the Pokémon Professor,’ said Wilma. ‘I’m sure you can still get a Pokémon.’
‘No, I’ll go on my own,’ said Timothy, running out of the door and leaving his parents staring worriedly behind him.
He had waited two years, and he wasn’t going to wait for a third one. His father was right; even if he couldn’t get any Badges, nor become a Champion like he had hoped, he would still go on his journey. He wanted a Pokémon, and he wanted to travel around Kanto. Timothy dashed for the southernmost building in Pallet, where the Professor was.
He jumped over ledges, and more than once, almost crashed into the half-asleep people of his town. The Pidgey hopped out of his paths, and shot looks at him before going back to picking at the floor. By the time Timothy had reached the lab, he was panting and had to lean on his knees for support; he wasn’t going to get his first Pokémon while he looked like that. His once organised clothes were now a mess. He waited outside the door for a few minutes, before finally working up the courage and the strength to open it.
The door flung open just moments he placed his hand on the handle, and a middle-aged man in a lab coat stood in the doorway.
‘Ah, Timothy!’ the man started. ‘My name is Armin; I’m Professor Oak’s assistant. I was just about to come to your house to give you your starter. It’s the only one left.’
‘Oh, I thought you would have three,’ said Timothy. ‘Is it really ok to take that Pokémon?’
‘Of course it is!’ said Armin. ‘The League might have been cancelled this year, but we’re not associated with it. This is a Bulbasaur, and it’s a she.’
Armin reached into his pocket and produced a Poké Ball. He stuck his arm out, and disbelievingly, Timothy took the item. The sphere was devoid of any imperfection; its colours shined in the rays of the sun, and the perfectly round surface was smooth in Timothy’s hands.
‘Thank you,’ said Timothy. ‘Thank you so much!’
‘You’re welcome,’ Armin laughed. ‘Go on; send her out!’
Even though he had seen Trainers do it many times, Timothy forgot how to send a Pokémon out. For a few seconds he fumbled with the Poké Ball before he finally hit the button that rested in the center of the object, and a small green Pokémon emerged. She was dotted with darker spots. Her eyes were red and she stood on all fours. Her back carried a bulb.
‘So think of anything you want to name her?’
‘Yeah,’ said Timothy, staring at the Pokémon. ‘I thought of names for all three. I’ll name her Ariadne.’