For the first time in years, Samia felt like he had a purpose.
He quickly changed out of his ridiculous league Now you better keep it uncapitalized. gear and picked an outfit that reminded him of the old days, when he was a traveling trainer. Scruffy trainers, torn jeans, plain t-shirt and logo-less jacket. Don't understand your sentence structure right here, sir. It felt refreshing to not be a walking advertising board.
Back in his office, he tore around frantically. What's that mean? Search? Documents were strewn everywhere, covering the usual spotless floor. In the corner, a computer whirred and beeped, every now and again churning out another one of Samia's poké balls with a flash of light. If Samia was going home, he wasn't just taking two pokémon.
“Sir, I must insist you reconsider!” Natasha shouted over the racket from behind the door. “You can't just leave like this!”
Samia ignored her, too focused on his task to care. Grabbing a piece of paper, he began to scrawl a note.
Dear Committee, I advise both italics (heh) and a space right here, like how a proper letter is formatted.
Due to unforeseen family issues, I have been forced to return home. Please do not contact me whilst I am gone. I will let you know when I will be back when I have more details of my family's situation.
What, no signature, no name given?
Grabbing the note, he thrust it at Natasha. She looked at it, and then at Samia with a confused look on her face.
“Make sure it gets to the committee,” Samia said, and then added, afterwards Don't need that. “Please.”
Natasha gulped, her calm face suddenly fearful. “You, you want me to go in front of the committee? But only the Grand Champion....”
Samia closed his eyes. “Please, Natasha, I need you to do this for me.” Opening his eyes, their eyes locked. “Don't worry about the committee; they're people, not Gyarados.”
Natasha nodded, subdued, and left the office, leaving Samia to get back to his task. Spinning around, he shut the door with a slam. His eyes raced around the room, thinking if he would need anything else. Sure he hadn't forgot anything, he grabbed a rucksack, Unneeded. full of about thirty poké balls, and left the office.
He stepped rapidly through the corridors, heading for the exit, hoping not to run into more fans. Luckily, the building seemed deserted; he got through without incident. Pushing on the thick metal doors, the world outside was revealed in all its beauty.
Samia stood on a mountaintop, and as far as his eyes could see an army of misty peaks rose (Heh.), jutting into the clouds, proud to fight against gravity. The peak on which he stood was easily the smallest; the largest was over two hundred miles away, yet could be seen from where Samia resided, rising above its brothers. Apparently, Unneeded. no one had ever reached its peak, or at least returned to tell the tale at any rate.
Shivering against the cold, Samia pulled out a poké ball from his bag, Unneeded. and released the pokémon that resided inside. With a flash of light, barely visible in the intense sunlight, it appeared. Its hide was completely green, Unneeded. and Samia was buffeted by a gust as it flapped its large wings. His old companion looked around, large antennae twitching, wondering what was happening. The pokémon's red goggled eyes found Samia, and joy spread across its insect-like features.
Leaping forward, it pinned Samia to the ground with its forearms and began licking his face happily, glad to be reunited with its master. Samia spluttered and laughed, but also felt slightly bad. It had been too long since he had been with most of his pokémon. He made a vow then and there, Unneeded. to let all of them out when he had the time at Grandfather's reserve.
Still laughing, Samia managed to get his arms free and covered his face. I suggest a paragraph break right here, sir-ry.
“All right, all right, Flygon!” he said to his pokémon. “Calm down!”
Flygon sat back on his It's a he now? haunches, waiting for its And now he's an it again. Castration much? That's animal abuse, sir-ry! trainer contently, its large tail wagging back and forth. Castrated Cassie here's an antlion-based dragon that's acting like a dog -- er, Growlithe. Uh-huh. (That's what happens when you remove one's sensitive parts, sir-ry.) Over the next twenty minutes, Samia hooked up and tied a saddle to Flygon's back, allowing him to ride the large distance more comfortably.
Flygon began to bob up and down, knowing what the saddle meant. Getting impatient, its wings began flapping, only making Samia's task more difficult. Eventually, the saddle was harnessed, and Samia jumped on, his feet hooking into the straps comfortably.
Out of his pack, Unneeded. he pulled out a pair of protective goggles, much resembling the lenses on his mount. Leaning forward, Samia spoke Seriously doubt you need that. whispered into Flygon's ear, “Take us home.”
On the command, Flygon's whole body tensed, pulling back. Its large wings were pulled in close to its body, and with a powerful push of its legs, Flygon leapt clean off the mountain and into the air. Samia clutched What did who did what? around his pokémon's neck, not wanting to be buffeted by the powerful wind. Either side of him, the now airborne pokémon's muscles flexed, and with powerful strokes, huge wings kept them aloft, propelling them toward their destination.
For hours they flew, through the crisp air, above cities and oceans, the world underneath them passing by like a great tapestry, a mixture of hues, green, brown and blue. It all flew past in a blur, with nothing of note happening; Samia simply sat there, being calmed by the rhythmic flapping of Flygon's large wings. Two questions: one, how did Samia manage to breathe up there?; two, no pit stops? Is this guy made out of titanium? I used to ride horses, and only thirty minutes was enough to make me drown in my own sweat.
In this time, Samia was left with his thoughts. It would be the first time he would see his grandfather, and judging from the letter he had received, it wouldn't be in the best of circumstances. It would be strange, Unneeded. seeing the man who raised him, not full of life. After his parents disappeared, and the rest of his family was not interested, Watcha sayin' here? Express intent more clearly, sir-ry. his grandfather took him in, Unneeded comma is unneeded. and raised him as his own, teaching him his ideals, and, most importantly, how to battle, both with pokémon, Your mistress was a comma. and by himself.
Eventually, Your children were commas. a forest came into view, stretching from horizon to horizon, bordered by a magnificent meandering river, cutting the stretch of land off like a small island. Roughly straight ahead of the pair lay a lake, calm and sapphire blue, with the river entering on either side. It was by this lake, named Togura Water, that his grandfather's ranch lay.
Slowly, You married a comma. Flygon began to descend, and a building came into view, a vast, three-story building with rough brick walls and large double glass doors, doors which harshly reflected the evening sun. Either side, lush green grass grew, and wooden fences bordered a massive area, easily the size of a small village. These fields were normally full of pokémon, yet they were strangely empty, giving quite a lonely feel to the ranch.
With a thump, Flygon landed on the soft grass, front claws leaving deep gouge marks, revealing the dark earth below. Samia jumped down, recalled Flygon and turned to face his childhood home, You grew to cherish and love a comma. to see a figure walking towards him. Noticing this, a frown crossed his face. Auntie Davene. Fantastic.
A rather dumpy sort of woman, Samia had never seen eye-to-eye with her. She always believed his "gift" was more of a curse, That is, I have to say, the awesome-est curse I have ever read about. without ever explaining why. This led to a rift in the family, meaning Samia had had little to no contact with them for nearly fifteen years now.
Suggest a paragraph break here.
As he surveyed her, Samia noticed that her appearance hadn't changed much; even her clothes seemed to be as he remembered: thick black trousers and a blue turtle neck woolen top. As for her facial features, they seemed to bear no resemblance to Samia. Her hair was a dirty coppery colour, and her chubby cheeks drooped on either side of her face, almost like a bulldog. There are bulldogs in the Pokemon world?
She stopped about two meters in front of Samia, put her hands on her wide hips and gave him a disapproving look.
Suggested paragraph break be right here.
“So,” she said matter-of-factly. “Managed to tear yourself away from your celebrity lifestyle to come see us, have you?”
Samia noted the insult, but kept his anger check.
Another paragraph break right here.
“Why, did you miss me?” he answered, his voiced laced with sarcasm. He had to be careful; his Auntie had snapped at him before, Who? -- What? -- Where? and he had to focus on why he was there. He took on a serious tone: “Let's get one thing straight: I'm not here to see you, or any of the rest of this fucked-up family -- I'm here for Grandfather, and that's it.”
“Don't you swear at me, boy!” Davene answered angrily, her voice becoming louder. "OR ELSE I'LL STRAP YOU TO THE OUTSIDE PORCH AND BEAT YA 'TIL THE MILTANK COME HOME." “That's my father you're talking about. If anyone has no right to be here, it's you! You freak!”
Samia was struggling to hold back his rage; his jaw was clenched, and he was biting back his retort. “Of course, how could I have forgotten?” he answered politely. Without another word, he stepped past his blustering aunt, YOU ARE A COMMA. straight toward the building. As he approached, the glass doors opened smoothly, revealing a cooling atrium, complete with a reception desk and waiting area.
Almost as if he had never been away, Samia walked through a heavy oak door behind the desk, down a hallway, where he heard a gaggle of voices; evidently the rest of the family was here. Tiptoeing down the hall, Samia crept past the half-closed door where the voices were coming from, avoiding another potential confrontation, and headed straight to his grandfather's room, where he stopped in shock.
On clean white linens lay his grandfather. The once proud man, full of life, looked to be, quite literally, on Death's bed. That's...where the saying comes from, Samia. Beside him, all manner of machines and contraptions beeped and whirred, monitors flashing up different numbers and symbols that meant nothing to Samia. Tubes and wires ran around, attaching themselves to his grandfather. And Samia was scared. "You have the emotional range of a teaspoon."
Samia had not been scared for a long time. Since becoming champion, everything had worked out. His grandfather couldn't die; he was too strong, too resilient, and nothing ever went wrong in the life of the champion. Kneeling next to the bed, Samia clasped his grandfather's hand, which felt cold and clammy.
“Grandad?” Samia asked softly. “Can, can you hear me?” A tear came to the champion's eye. “It's me, it's your Sammy.” He was becoming desperate now; how could this be happening? He shook his grandfather's hand, trying to stir a response. For almost an hour he remained there, wrestling with his emotions, until his grandfather began to move.
Slowly, his grandfather's eyes opened, Your worst enemy is a comma. and his yellow eyes met Samia's blue ones, and his look softened.
SUGGESTED PARAGRAPH BREAK here.
“Samia, you came.” He spoke softly and slowly, like each word took phenomenal effort to utter. “I didn't think you would make it.”
Samia brushed the tears out of his eyes with the back of his sleeve, sniffing as he did so. “Of course I made it, you silly old fart.” BAD SAMIA, YOU DO NOT INSULT YOUR GRANDAD, YA HEAR? Samia smiled, trying to lighten the dark mood. “It took me all day to get here on Flygon; though, Those two don't work there. The comma and "there," that is. look, the sun is setting.”
Outside of the large bay windows, what Samia said was true, the sun was indeed lowering below the horizon, leaving the room to get darker and darker, yet Samia didn't get up to turn on the lights, he wanted to be by his Grandfather's side, no matter what. That entire paragraph was a run-on sentence. Whoa. Whoa. BAD, BAD SAMIA!
His grandfather coughed and spluttered, and again looked Samia in the eyes.
Paragraph break RIGHT HERE.
“Samia, listen to me,” he said, STOP WITH THE SPOKING. YOU USE "SAID" AS THE DEFAULT. NO SPOKING. IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU'RE ASSAULTING PEOPLE IN THE HEAD WITH A BICYCLE PART. his voice beginning to show hints of pain. “Our gift....I showed you how to you use it, but....” Before he could finish, he began coughing again, which cut him off.
Samia gripped his grandfather's hand tightly, willing him to get better. “Please, don't strain yourself, just relax.”
“No, there is no more time.” Taking a few breaths, he continued, “I never told you....Beware of that power. It. Is. Dangerous. This. Is. Sparta. (Pass that joint, will ya, man?) The more you use it, the more dangerous you will become. You will lose your humanity, your morals, until....” Again, he was cut off by another spate off coughing, and this time, Samia stood up and moved closer to the head of the bed.
“Shush now. Rest, please,” Samia pleaded. “I can't lose you.” Dread ran through Samia, and the room was getting darker and darker as the sun continued its inevitable route below the horizon. Samia remained motionless, crouched next to the bed.
All of a sudden, The power of comma compels you. a monotone beep came blaring out of one the machines, and a once zigzagging line flat-lined. How about "a once zigzagging line grew flat" instead? Samia still remained motionless, even as medical staff ran into the room. They began shouting to each other, but still he remained there, their voices silent to him as he went deep into his mind.
PARAGRAPH break SUGGESTED here.
He knew what had happened, and sadness filled his heart like it never had before. All of the memories with his grandfather, all the experiences, the lessons, flashed before his eyes. Being presented a baby Absol at the age of five, winning his first battle, his first girlfriend, Wait, he won his first girlfriend? Dayuuuuuum. becoming Champion -- his grandfather had been there for all of them.
Overcome by grief, Samia began to weep, crying like a child. An unknown figure led him out of the room into the corridor, where he sat in the dark with no protest. People ran past him, some tried to speak to him, but he ignored them, and they left him alone.
All of a sudden, You once adopted a comma, but that comma did not want you as a parent. a great fury roared up inside of him. His eyes snapped open, looking for someone to blame, someone to take it out on. It was like a dragon had reared up inside of him, spreading warm anger to the tips of his toes and fingertips, into every fibre of his being. It felt like he was on fire, yet as soon as it had arrived, it had gone. And he was mad. Mad, I tell you. Mad.
Calming himself, Samia now was worried. Where had such a dramatic mood swing like that come from? Harry Potter. Was that what grieving was? If so, he didn't like it. At all. At that moment, he made a snap decision. What was the point in being Grand Champion? He knew he could defeat anyone, so why bother staying in the middle of nowhere to prove that fact?
It was time to leave the League, YOU DID IT, YOU DID IT, YOU SONUVA -- YOU DID IT. YOU CAPITALIZED IT. but first, a Grand Tournament had to be called, You ate a comma with your British tea and crumpets. for the first time in eight years. Rapidly, HA HA, RAPIDASH. But seriously, no. You're not Steve Jobs, Samia. You don't pull phones out of your ass just to prove you got them. Samia pulled out his phone. The call was made.
At any rate, some poor trainer would suffer his wrath by the end of the month....I'm starting to like you, Samia.