Now and Forever {AU/Adventure}

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  1. #1
    Vote for Pidgey! Arcanine Frost's Avatar
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    Jan 2006

    Lightbulb Now and Forever {AU/Adventure}

    Now and Forever

    Welcome to an original trainer fic with a twist.

    Chapter One: Curse of the Colt

    A fiery colt strode through the pastures. It glossy white coat shone back the rays of the sun. It had out-ran all the other Charolts and Ponytas. Both species were closely related. They looked nearly identical as colts. However, when Charolts evolve into Maflares or Philares, their coats become a honey-red auburn and their tail and mane turn from red to black. Charolts are only found on the island of Hokkou, which about one-hundred years ago split from the country of Japan into a more European state. Meanwhile, Ponytas can be found almost anywhere on Earth.

    This colt was called Blaine. Some kid that had saw him on the day he was born, only four months ago, must have liked the Cinnabar Island gym leader from Kanto. What did Kyle O’Brien care, though? Connor, his son, could rename him anyway.

    Sporting a black leather jacket, Kyle coaxed the colt towards him. He quickly, yet gently, grabbed a pokeball with two blue stripes on a field of red. “Return, Charolt,” he whispered. The colt was gently sucked into the aura of red light that the ball had emitted. Kyle was flooded with memories: of his journeys, of his pokemon, of his first love, and of his boy as a young son, now at the age of thirteen. He hoped his son would have the same memories he did.

    Placid pools of water stood calm in the gardens that sat in front of the house. The lush greens hedges, bushes, and vines intermingled with the indigo, cobalt, crimson, and gold-colored flowers. A large tree sat in the middle of it all, its leaves colored a fiery crimson-pink. The garden seemed to swing out as it grew closer to the house, revealing a carefully laid brick foundation. On top of that were more and more layers of red and brown colored brick. The wall stood high, flowing to the two corners. On top of the brick wall was a brass tiled roof. The house could be seen as far back as the eye could go. Behind the front roof was another, another stood behind that, even higher. Far beyond these roofs a high tower poked out of the rest of the house. Kyle O’Brien’s shiny black Cadillac, with elegantly curving roof and classy front hood, was greeted by the lush green hedges and worshipped by the short, colorful flowers.

    Walking into the house, Kyle exclaimed, “Honey, I’m home!” He handed his leather jacket to the butler and gently laid down the precious pokeball on an oaken table.

    “Good afternoon, Master O’Brien,” the butler said cordially. “Did you enjoy your stay at Appleton Acres?”

    “Yes,” Kyle O’Brien replied. “Where would he be?”

    “Out in the back garden,” the butler answered, “reviewing the Pokemon Journey Academics Test.”

    “Good,” Kyle said, making sure the pokeball was in hand. Running out of the entry way, he rushed through the house. He ran down a hall towards a large sliding door. He passed two doors, one on each side. These two doors were entry to Connor’s room. To the left was a large entertainment room. To the back was a large flat-screened television. Blue leather couches faced the television in a u-shape. To the right was a large basketball court. Connor was one of the best basketball players in his school, Rio Grande Heights Academy. He was also one of the smartest. Both rooms had stairs leading up to his bedroom and computer room, as well as an old toy room.

    The next two rooms were Kyle, and his wife, Cindy’s, rooms. Once again, to the left was an entertainment room. To the right, however, was a large room with separate habitats for each of the couple’s pokemon. In the middle of this room was a large battle-court. Both Kyle and Cindy were gym-leaders. Kyle was the leader of Rio Grande Valley gym, while Cindy resided over Rio Grande Ridge gym. Currently, Cindy was the official gym leader, but that could change any year. All Kyle, or any of the other ten gym-leaders in Rio Grande City, had to do was beat Cindy and then qualify as one of the twenty-one official gym-leaders in the region of Hokkou. All twenty one official gym badges had to be obtained to qualify for the National Cup Tournament. All twenty states also hold tournaments, in which a trainer needs to obtain a predetermined number of badges from gyms within that state to qualify for that tournament. The Elite Trainers Organization, a group of gym-leaders and pokemon trainers that were elected and given power to govern the National Cup and State Cup tournaments, had also recently added a Region Cup format. In this format, trainers had to obtain all official gym badges in that region, as well as an additional badge from each state. Kyle wished his son to challenge both the regional format and national format.

    Kyle reached the door and threw it open. Rows and rows of gardens spanned towards the horizon. Green could be seem almost everywhere, except for where an occasional Japanese rock garden or pond or statue gently sat. The gardens were every design and came from every place on the world, at least all that could survive in the coastal climate of Rio Grande. Some came from South America, others European. Most were of plants, trees, and flowers, but some where rock gardens or statue patios.

    Beyond the rows and rows of gardens, which were clearly divided with hedges, lay a large lawn. Daily trimmed, the lawn was always beautiful, even when the rare snowfall came to the region. Looking around, Kyle walked through a vine garden, around a Kantanese rock garden, past an Arizonan desert garden, and through an area with monolithic sculptures of colorful candy.

    He walked into a small, cozy garden, hemmed in by bright red brick fences. A patio was in the center, while rows of lilacs, roses, and tulips adorned the sides.

    “Good afternoon, father,” Connor said coldly. He stood up to greet him, stiff as a board of wood; he was always like this, so cold and masked. Perhaps it had been of his sheltered, almost prison-like upbringing, or maybe it was just a habit he had fallen into. The only time he unmasked himself was with his friends. His jeans were the color of the sky, while his sweatshirt was colored a dark orange with bleach streaks here and there.

    “Good afternoon, Connor,” Kyle replied cordially to his son. All his life, Kyle had been of the high class. He had been taught to speak, stand, sit, dance, train, catch, run, jump, hide, play, kiss, sleep, and treat others of both higher and lesser value, maturity, ability, intelligence, and class as a noble would. Just like its northerly neighbor Japan, Hokkou didn’t have nobles. The only place those could be found was in England. However, if Hokkou did have those of nobility, Kyle would have been one of the best. “Now, about that test…”

    “You have done very well, my son,” Kyle said approvingly. “Your journey begins tomorrow. You are well prepared, I presume?”

    “Yes, father,” Connor replied.

    “Grand. Your mother and I had planned to give it to you at morning brunch. Since you have excelled, however, I shall give it to you now.”

    “Great,” Connor said less coldly, “what is it.”

    “Well, following the O’Brien family tradition…”

    “No,” Connor whispered sadly, with a hope still lingering in his mind that it would not be what he though it to be.

    “Connor, please do not interrupt your father,” Cindy said.

    “Thank you, Cindy,” Kyle said, glaring at his son. “Returning to what I was saying, following O’Brien family tradition, I have obtained for you a well-bred Charolt from Appleton Acres.

    “No,” Connor whispered, “No, No, NO!” Connor slammed back his chair and stomped away into the house.

    If anyone in Rio Grande Valley was angrier that Connor O’Brien, it would have been Ash Ketchum. He glared at Max, who was relaxing on the other side of the restaurant they were in, called Slammer’s Steakhouse. Max. Ash loathed him. Their battle had been terrible. Ash’s Crawdaunt had been the only one left. His first three pokemon, Swellow, Sceptile and Heracross, went one and done, falling to Max’s Gardevoir. His mighty Charizard, who had already defeated Max’s Gardevoir and Ninetales, had been felled by one of Max’s first pokemon, Vigoroth. Ash’s energetic Pikachu had faired the same. Crawdaunt easily defeated the tired sloth. Max had sent out his fourth pokemon, his other first pokemon, Sceptile. The lobster and squirrel-like lizard had sparred for hours. Though Crawdaunt had a type disadvantage against Sceptile, Ash had been training him longer. Finally, Sceptile’s Solar Beam had edged out Crawdaunt’s Iron Defense, which Ash had painstakingly taught him. It was all over. Max hadn’t even needed to use to of his six pokemon.

    Ash walked outside, his head down.

    “Ash,” May said from across the street, she stood near the café. Her orange tank-top and short black skirt stood out from the masses of people that rushed through the streets on the evening commute back home. They walked into the park and found an alcove hidden by lush jade hedges and sat down on a secluded bench. May took out her Pokemon Navigator. She began to press numbers on the little key pad.

    “Who you calling?” Ash asked.

    “My parents,” May replied. The PokeNav rang a dull tone.

    “You better not,” Ash replied. He snatched PokeNav and turned it off.

    “Ash, come on.” She looked down at her golden ring that was on her middle finger and delicately slid it off. “We got to tell them sooner or later. It’s been since Kanto that you asked me.”

    “Ya, I’ll take later,” Ash replied.

    “Come on,” May prodded, laying her hand next to Ash’s. “They got to know.”

    “Not right now,” replied Ash angrily. “I’m really upset about the battle I had with your bratty brother. Oh ya, I still haven’t forgotten what you and Drew did at the Grand Festival in Charleston.”

    “Ash, he’s not a brat. Anyway, I though we understood this. I was trying to get to back from Misty.”

    ”And I was trying to get you back from, who was it again? Oh ya, that bratty friend of Max, Harley.” The word rolled off Ash’s mouth as if he were cussing.

    “Which,” May added, “was a sick trick by my brother.”

    “Yes,” Ash confirmed, “your bratty brother.”

    “Ash,” May said angrily, “for the last time, he is not a brat. He’s just a little annoying sometimes.”

    “Whatever,” Ash added. He put his arm around her body.

    “Fine,” May added. Suddenly, they were kissing.

    “Hey guys,” said Brock as he walked into the alcove. “I’ve been looking for you for forever. Oh, May, there’s a former World Festival champion coming to the center at eight tonight. And Ash, they’re gonna’ have a Pikachu feast next week.” He looked at them. “Oh, I see you’re busy.”

    “Yes,” Ash replied, “center at ten tonight, right? See you there.” They were kissing again.

    Hours later, Connor walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a donut and a can of Mountain Dew and walked down the hall and into his room. He plopped down on the couch, eagerly flipping channels to the Hakkou versus Japan Basketball World Cup qualifying match.

    The next day was just like any other, at least for everyone except Connor O’Brien. He paced nervously in his room. He had been so stupid yesterday afternoon. He wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t. Finally, he heard footsteps.

    He jumped out of his room. “Listen,” he said, “I’m really sorry about the way I was yesterday. I mean, I hear most of the kids in Africa don’t have pokemon at all. And that one guy, Ash Ketchum, he was stuck with a pathetic Pikachu. And I was reading about this one guy too, he…”

    “Good morning, young Master O’Brien.” It was only Charles, the butler. “Err – perhaps it’s not such a good morning for you. Your parents wish to see you in the dining hall immediately. They have to discuss certain matters of your – err – what you will do on your journey.”

    “Thank you, Charles,” Connor replied. “And by the way, Pikachus are not all that bad.”

    “Yes, well um – have a wonderful journey, young Connor.”

    Connor ran off to the dining hall.

    “Poor kid,” Charles muttered.
    Now and Forever

  2. #2
    Vote for Pidgey! Arcanine Frost's Avatar
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    Jan 2006


    Chapter Two: Gone

    "Good morning, Connor," his father said warmly.
    "Good morning, Father," Connor replied.
    "Yes, my son," Cindy said, "on the matter of your journey."
    "When can I go?" Connor asked.
    His father frowned. "Unfortunately, we have decided that you will not go.”

    Connor gasped. How could they? How could they take away his most precious chance he would ever have? His journey, his pokemon, his pokedex, his chance to escape the prison that was his home was gone. His chance to – Heather, the word rang through his mind like a ball of lead. She would never know how much he liked her. Liked, not as a friend, but as something more…

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    It was an ordinary day in second grade. Connor, as usual, sat next to his three friends on the neatly trimmed, lush green grass. Kody Silvin, Ryan Taylor, and David Maxwell sat next to him. They were, as usual, dreaming their dreams: of being pokemon masters.

    Everyday since pre-school they had met on the green grass, their field of dreams. Kody lifted his hand, which was cupped around an imaginary pokeball. “Go, Charasard!” he shouted. David jumped out in front of him.

    “Its Charizard,” David corrected, “not Charasard!”

    “Fine, Charizard,” Kody replied. “But you’re supposed to be saying Charizard, not speaking human.”

    “Chari, ri, zar, ard,” David said in annoyance while he flapped his arms up and down and raised his neck.

    “Okay,” Connor said, “go, Blastoise.”

    Ryan jumped out in front of him. “Blast, oiz!”

    The mock battle began:

    ”Charasard,” Kody declared, “Flamethrower!”

    David roared. He charged forward. He raised his head high into the air. He opened wide his mouth and shouted, “Char, Chariza, zard!”

    “Blastoise, Hydro Pump!” Connor ordered. Ryan stomped forward, “Blast, oiz!” Ryan released a small squirt of spit. It hit David right in the stomach.

    “Chari – zard,” David said, falling to the ground.

    “Yeah, I win,” Connor exclaimed.

    Ryan and Kody stood facing each other, on opposite sides of the lush green field. This was school, but for now, for these four friends, it was a dream come true. Nothing could change the feeling it gave them, of a cherry-topped sundae on a hot summer’s day, of a new pokemon training game for the Gameboy Advanced. It didn’t matter if it was a revisit to Kanto, it was a journey, and they loved it. Thus so they began every battle, dreaming how it would actually be to have a pokeball cupped in their hands.

    Kody raised his hand in the air. “Go, Torchic!” he declared. Connor jumped out. He hopped on one foot; his hands were at his side, which made his elbows wings. These wings flapped up and down.

    “Tor, tor, chic, chi,” Connor cheerfully chirped.

    “Okay,” said Ryan, “Mudkip!” David jumped out. He wore a grey shirt that was sleek, smooth, and tight. He looked just like a Machop, except that he lacked extremely toned abs.

    “Ma, chopp!” exclaimed Machop.

    “Torchic, Ember,” Kody exclaimed. Connor raised his head. He opened his mouth, pretending to spew forth balls of white fire.

    “Machop,” Ryan commanded, “Megafist!” David charged at Connor. His hand was raised. It gone without saying in this circle of dreamers and friends that attacks were always faked. This Megafist would be just like any other.

    “Torchic, dodge it!” Kody said.
    “Tor, chic, chic,” Connor chirped. He waited. Connor jumped out of the way, pretending to fake out David. But, instead of pretending to be faked out, David actually was faked out. He threw his fist to the left of where Connor had been. Unfortunately, Connor had just jumped to the left. David’s fist slammed right into Connor’s nose. Connor fell to the ground.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    “Oh look, they’re doing those pretend battles again,” the girl sitting next to Heather Gordon said with distaste. Everyday the five prettiest, richest, most spoiled girls in grade two at Rio Grande Heights Elementary Academy sat upon a nearly normal, almost average, slightly superior bench and distastefully complained, commented, and gossiped about the other first, second, and third graders at the school. Even though hardly any one in grade two considered popularity, these five did. They were the critiques of the grade, if there ever were any.

    Unlike her four friends, Heather hated gossip and ridicule. She preferred compassion, friendliness, and gentleness, especially when it came to the four cute, adorable, imaginative boys that pretended to be pokemon trainers. And in particular, she really liked the one boy that was just a little taller than the rest. His name was Connor. Still, her secret musings were exactly that, a secret no one knew. Almost all of the time she was able to mask her tone. She had become a master at this, and not only because of her four gossip-loving friends. She had secrets.

    She had more secrets than could ever be imagined. She had never told how she had purposely broken a window, or covered her older brother’s room in finger-paint just to spite him. She had never mentioned her five accounts on fan-fiction forums about an anime series called Phantasiana. Nor had she ever admitted to stealing a magnet from Jimmy Smith’s locker. Of course, no one had ever expected her in any of these capers either. Yep, she knew how to play her parents, she was good at it, and she did it all the time.

    “Aw, they look so cute when they do that,” Heather replied. She gazed at the four boys in fascination…

    “You like him?” asked Ashley. She was the most energetic of the group. Her bright red hair seemed to power her constant energy. It never lost its shine or became dull, and neither did Ashley.

    “Maybe…” Heather replied, half hearing, half ignoring.

    “Eww,” another girl said in disbelief, “you must be joking. I saw my brother kissing last nice. It’s gross.” Two of the other girls nodded in agreement, for all of them were the youngest. “You want to do that too?”

    “Maybe,” Heather answered, distracted. She looked out at the four boys. Suddenly, Connor fell over.

    “Look’s like your little kissing boy fell over,” commented Ashley smugly.

    “Oh no,” Heather exclaimed caringly. “I have to help him.” She ran over to Connor. The three boys looked on in fear and ignorance. Okay, though Heather, perhaps they aren’t as intelligent as I though.

    “What happened to him?” asked Heather.

    “Oh,” Kody said, just seeing her, “David punched him.” Great, he though, the one girl Connor hates is the one that choose to help him.

    “David, I do hope it was accident. Would you go get Miss Carston, please,” Heather stated authoritatively.

    “Oh, it was,” replied David.

    “Good, now get going,” Heather added.

    “Okay, your wish is my command,” said David, blushing. He ran off. “Miss Carston, Miss Carston, Miss Carston!” Heather could hear him shout.

    Heather gently padded down the grass around him and the gently stroked his light brown hair. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, feeling something from deep down inside her heart. “You’ll be fine.” Blood dribbled across his cheek.

    Miss Carston came running from across the playground. The day hadn’t been good at all. Jimmy Smith still hasn’t found his Ampharos Rock Band magnet. Nor had Juan Cortez been able to make it to the potty. Being the recess supervisor for kindergarten to third grade was the hardest part of her job. Not to mention how her first grade class had handled the fire drill. And now this. What was happening?

    Miss Carston opened up a special red purse that held a first aid kit. She grabbed a tissue. “Let’s see what we can do about this…”

    Leaving her friends behind, Heather stayed with Connor all day as he suffered in the nurse’s room. She begged to go with him to the hospital, but was denied her wish. After Connor returned to school bearing a cast on his arm and a face mask to hold his dislocated nose in place, Heather stayed with him everyday. For the rest of the year she played with him, made sure the pillows under his arm were just right. Heather had been a friend then, and she had become one for the rest of the years at school.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    Connor ran, up a hall and down a flight of stairs. He passed through a doorway, over a blue leather couch, up a flight of curving stairs and through another doorway. Connor jumped onto his bed. He looked up to the picture of Heather that hung above his bed. He cried.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    Like usual, they were sitting in the very top row of the gymnasium as below them five tenth graders took on five tenth graders from a rival school. This was basketball. This was normal. This would never change, or so Connor and the other fifth graders thought.

    Connor, like it had been since kindergarten, was much taller than the rest of the grade. He stood up, looking beyond his friends Kody and David as they argued who would win the World Cup that year; he saw Heather and her four friends. They argue over who was prettier- the new Hakkou champion, Andy Ketchum, or the runner-up, Steven Stone. Beyond Heather’s friends was a geek basketball player by the name of Cory. After him sat a rather good rock band by the name of “Dude, Where’s Your Pikachu?” Beyond the four punk rock fans were the algebra enthusiasts, number four. Finally, there was Ryan, the one that had been caught kissing a popular girl. Instinctively, Heather, when they had been found out, used her gift of deceit and got out of trouble. Immediately, Connor and David made Ryan an outcast.

    Connor and his two friends looked down at the basketball. Although they were popular, they actually watched the basketball game, unlike most fifth graders. A low pitched bell dully sang over the cheering crowds at the basketball. “Attention please! Will Mister Steele’s homeroom please report to the main office!”

    Slowly, a group of twenty-five, one-fifth of the fifth grade, including Connor, Kody, David, Ryan, Heather, and Ashley – for Mister Steele was both a teacher of science and was the one teacher in grade five that taught his homeroom pokemon battling. The group walked down a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. Nobody talked. What could the problem be? Maybe Mister Steele had trouble getting Andy Ketchum to come to the school Saturday, a special treat for his class. The group filed into to a large room marked “Principal Hackett.”

    The group found their principal sitting in her large, leather chair. Salty tears slowly slid down her cheeks.

    “Thank you,” she murmured between sobs, “for coming… to this room today.” More tears, salty and glistening, slid down her cheek. “Your teacher,” she sobbed. “Has. He has. He has passed away.” Tears poured out of her eyes and dripped softly off of her chin. “He lived. Well.”

    The room fell silent. Tears flowed from a boy in the back. Then a girl behind Connor did the same. They sadly gazed at their feet, or looked longingly up at the ceiling. Others gazed nowhere in particular and close their eyes, remembering how their beloved teacher had helped them classify subspecies of Pikachus, or examine the skeleton of a dead Eevee, or maybe draw the symbols of the ancient civilizations and the pokemon that dwelled with them. Others looked back at the first day of school, when he had brought in his Tyranitar, Arcanine, and Goldagle- a species of eagle native to Hakkou. Others, half laughing and half crying, remembered the odd odor of Ratatas and Raticates, Hamstas and Hamstos, a few Arboks and Sevipers, and even a rare species of Ariados, a specimen he had retrieved himself from the Santan Patch in the Amazonian Rainforest in Southern America.

    Connor remembered something different. He remembered in fourth grade when he had been “Coach.” He also remembered that in fourth grade Mister Steele had asked him to join the Pokemon Academics Squad, a trivia club regarding pokemon for fifth graders. He always had a different curriculum every year, or so his teachers and his friends’ older siblings had told him. And it was true. Each year Mister Steele taught something different. One year it was about animals, the next pokemon and the skeletons. The next year could be about battling or coordinating, no one ever knew what lesson plan that teacher would pull out.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    While the rest of the class went into mental hibernation, Heather stayed alive. She tried to cheer everyone up, and most of the time succeeded. Even when they had to endure the grumpy computer turned science teacher as a replacement, Heather was as energetic as ever. She was a friend with all her classmates, even the outcast, Ryan. Connor felt something for her that year, something deep inside his heart. He felt a burning in his heart that never had before. He cast his childhood aside, for along with death comes a renewal of life. For with death comes a reminding that each day is special. Connor cherished each day. He loved Heather he knew it, but was too afraid to say it.
    Now and Forever


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