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  1. #1
    ?Je§u$fRe@K* PancaKe's Avatar
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    ^.^; Yeah, this is currently seeking a title. It's less than a week old, but my latest inspiration and writer drive. So hopefully it will work out well. :)

    Part One

    “What’s going on?” My eyes felt heavy, and it was hard to see in the darkness. My head throbbed as though I had been hit with something. Adjusting to the lack of light, I could make out various shadows moving around me. Trying to see what they were, I sat up.

    Suddenly, lights flooded the area. Not expecting this, I was temporarily blind. Adjusting again, many different people with long white coats walked around me. Some held clipboards; others had their hands in the pockets. One woman wore thick glasses. They kept walking. Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear any sound.

    Come to think of it, I felt kind of funny. I tried to stand up, but I bumped my head hard on an invisible force. Reaching out, I felt the glass walls surrounding me, little holes in certain areas, probably to let air in. This was the first time I had began to feel scared.

    Looking down at me, I discovered that the clothes I last remember being in had disappeared. Where had my pajamas gone? My favorite pajamas with the bunnies and bears weren’t there, and mum told me that clothes just don’t disappear.

    I began to panic, and put my hands on my cheeks. Someone had stuck needles with tubes in my wrists, held by what looked a lot like sticky tape. The tubes were put through the glass box that I was in, and connected to different hanging bags that had different colored water in them.

    Something was in my head too. I could just feel it now. I raised my hand and ran my fingers along part of my skull, and gasped as I found part of my hair missing. What was going on? There were things that felt like round band-aids, but they had wires coming out of them, and there were little tiny things that were sharp and stuck in there as well. I think they were needles.

    I didn’t like being boxed up in a glass box. I didn’t know where I was, or who these people were around me. I was cold and frightened, and I felt alone. Angry, I hit the side of the box, thinking I could break it. The glass shook, and my hand stung. I nursed my hand close to my chest.

    “She is making movements,” one of the people in the long coats said. The ones with the clipboards scribbled down notes, and one went over to a computer.

    “Her reaction levels are high,” he called from behind the computer screen. “Attack levels are rising steadily, though not high enough to escape just as yet. Heart rate is faster than usual, but should be fine.”

    “That’s good,” another one said, walking in the room. All of the people in coats turned to look at this man. He was tall, and the hair on his head was silvery gray, and wore the same clothes as everybody else.

    “Oak. She has awakened,” the woman with the glasses told him.

    He nodded. “Good, good,” he replied. “How long?”

    “About five minutes,” the one with the clipboard answered.

    What was going on? Who were they talking about?

    The new man walked over to me, and bent down to be at my eye level. “Hello,” he said, in a baby voice. “Did you have a nice sleep?”

    I opened my mouth to say something back, but too many questions were running through my mind. I couldn’t decide which to ask, so my mouth remained open, yet silent.

    “Levels are down, everything is stable,” the person from the computer called.

    “What’s the matter?” the man continued to ask, his voice becoming incredibly babyish.

    “I’m not a baby,” I snapped, frowning.

    “Increased heart rate, slightly.”

    The man nodded again. He seemed to nod a lot. “Do you know what’s going on then?” he asked, this time normally. “Do you know where you are?”

    I shook my head.

    “Do you know what you are?” he asked.

    What kind of question was that?

    “Well then,” he said, straightening up, and facing the others, who had been furiously scribbling on their clipboards. “We will have to take the Charlie-Delta to the next level of testing, now that she is conscious.”

    What was a Charlie-Delta? What did conscious mean? Whatever it was, I didn’t think it was good.






    {}{}{}{}

    “What’s happening?”

    “She’s unstable!”

    Voices were yelling everywhere. The lights were flickering, and dimming every moment. I was scared and confused. I didn’t know what was happening around me. Tears rolled down my face as I curled up, confused.

    The people in coats, doctors as they had told me, ran around like crazy people. I don’t know if it was my fault or not. It probably was. They said that experiments could go wrong.

    “Charlie-Delta,” the man with the gray hair called out to me. “Calm down!” He turned around from where he was standing, and approached me, holding the biggest needle I had ever seen in my life.

    I shut my eyes tight and screamed, lashing out around me.

    The whole room shook, and even with my eyes closed, I felt I had gone blind. The brightness that surrounded me was brighter than anything I had ever seen, and the heat that erupted from nowhere felt as if it would make me melt.

    I stood up, and for the first time in my life, as I could remember it, broke out the glass crib of my own will. Opening my eyes slowly, the light had died down but flames rose high and the room filled with smoke. The doctors were running around still, this time, gathering papers and computer discs and important folders.

    I turned and ran. Stopping to look back, the whole building was on fire. Too scared to do anything about it, I ran away.





    {}{}{}{}

    What is wrong with me?

    Their eyes followed me, as I limped through their streets. The explosion had left me weak, injured, in need of help. They simply stared at me, standing back, as far away as possible. I didn’t understand what was wrong, because I had survived the incident.

    The wires and tubes trailed after me as I made my way through. A few needles were still in place, in my wrist, in the sides of my head. I was used to them now, after many months, and couldn’t see what was so different about them. Didn’t lots of people get tested on?

    That’s what they told me. They told me that it was perfectly normal, that everybody at some point in their life went through what I went through. They told me it was just my turn, and that others would get theirs, and others already had.

    So why were they staring?

    “Mummy, look at her,” a little boy cried, pointing his finger at me. I didn’t stop my pace. “She’s hurt!”

    “Don’t look at her!” his mother shrieked. “Don’t go near her! She’s dangerous! She’s part of their experiment.”

    I turned and looked at the small boy. His mother had her head turned away, trying to avoid my eye contact. I took a step towards the small boy, my bare feet dragging along the tar of the road. The boy stepped off the curb, one small step towards me, nervous.

    I liked the striped shirt he wore. I had never seen one like it before. They always wore long white coats, and dark pants, and nothing else. His hair was lighter than any of the people’s hair I had seen in the place.

    I liked his eyes the best. They were bright, chocolate brown, and they sparkled. They looked shiny and watery. I stared at them for a long time.

    “You’re not wearing any clothes,” the boy told me, pointing. He was only a little bit taller than me.

    “I don’t have any,” I answered, a bit embarrassed.

    “Your hair is missing,” he told me, pointing to the part of my head where the needles were. “And you have pins in your head.”

    “They’re needles,” I replied. “They told me they would make me stronger. That’s what they are for.”

    The boy nodded.

    His mother turned around and shrieked, seeing him so close to me. “Jimmy!” she screeched. She ran over and grabbed him in one arm, lifting him up. Pointing at me, she looked angry. “You.” She couldn’t seem to make her words come out properly; she kept on stopping and starting. “You, monster, you! Go! Get away from my son! Get away from me! You filthy creature, you!”

    I stared up at her, confused. Was she calling me a monster? I didn’t think that was good.

    “Go on! Get! Or… Or… Or I’ll call the police!” she continued screaming.

    I looked at the boy. He looked worried. He moved his mouth, and I heard him whisper. “Run. The police will take you away. Run!”

    I turned, and running, left the boy and the screaming woman behind.





    {}{}{}{}

    The man known as Oak slammed his fist down on the desk. “I can’t believe this!” he cried, his face smoky and covered in ashes. “Who knows what could happen now? The whole damned country is at risk! What on earth will the bloody League say?”

    “I think you’re overreacting,” the woman with the thick glasses said quietly, looking over at Oak from her seat in the corner.

    Oak sank into his leather office chair, exhausted and defeated. “Ivy, dear Ivy, who knows what the League will think of this business. But if the four that are the league now, are still the league once Charlie-Delta matures, you and I will have to hide ourselves.”

    Ivy sighed. “Oak, it will not be like that.” She pushed her sliding glasses up her nose. “For starters, we both know that that boy of yours, Ash, will easily defeat the league and knock out the current champion. Lance and Agatha are old and weary now; they are no threat to us. The youngest of the league is Lorelei, and for goodness sakes, that woman is almost twice my age. We do not have a young league on our hands to deal with. By the time this problem arises, we will not be dealing with the same people, but with a bunch of children who will listen to everything and anything we tell them, simply because we happen to be Professors.”

    Oak laughed weakly at the thought. “True, how true,” he grinned. “But Ash is not stupid, he may not know much, but once he gets his nose into something, then he gets himself too far in. I would hate to hurt that boy.”

    “You won’t have to,” Ivy replied. “After all, nobody is going to remember what has happened. By the time something flares up, you and I can just convince everybody that it’s a psychic pokemon phenomenon, or something along those lines. And what if nothing even flares up? Who knows? That could’ve been all that Charlie-Delta had in her?”

    “The question is not what if something DOESN’T happen but what if something DOES,” Oak re-enforced. “We need to be prepared in case something does happen, not incase nothing does.”

    “And so how do you propose we prepare for this, Mister Oak?” Ivy asked him, raising an eyebrow.

    “We need to get after Charlie-Delta, obviously.” Oak sighed. “And it’s not going to be easy. With the majority of files destroyed, we have no idea of the capabilities she has. Because of this, we need to know what her capabilities are, and how to terminate them if anything arises.”

    “By terminate do you mean…”

    “It’s either that, or the league after us. And I don’t know which you would prefer, but if it’s the League then you can go and ‘fess up now.”





    {}{}{}{}

    I walked along, not looking back. Over the hills, over the streams, around towns and not through them. From what had happened in the last town, I had this vague idea that people would be scared of me, even though I didn’t think anything was wrong with me.

    I followed the water. It was cool, and when I was thirsty I could drink it. And if it wasn’t too deep, I could put my feet in it when they were hot and tired. If it was too deep, I could fall in, so I had to be very careful. I didn’t know if I could swim or not, but I didn’t want to fall in.

    The trees were nice and tall and dark green. I liked the way the tops of the trees moved backwards and then forwards. They looked like they would fall over. It was scary, watching them, but exciting. One minute they would be falling, straight for you, and it would look as if you would be squashed by a giant tree, and then the next minute, they would swing back in the other direction. I could stay and watch the trees all day.

    My legs were sore and tired. I don’t know how long I had been walking for, but it had been a long while. I couldn’t see the city, or any cities or towns, or houses or people. I felt safer when there were no people around, staring at me, yelling at me, saying I was a monster and saying that I would be taken away by the police. I didn’t want to be taken away.

    I sat down on the grass next to the water. I was tired. I sat close enough to dip my naked toes into the cool stream, but not too close. I really didn’t want to fall in.
    My body was naked. I still had the needles in my arm and the things in my forehead. Should I take them out or should I leave them in?

    The doctor had said to leave them in. They were helping me, they were going to make me stronger. I wanted to be stronger. The fire scared me. I thought I might die in that fire. It was so hot, and I was so little. If I was bigger and stronger, I wouldn’t have had to be scared of the fire.

    I lay down on my back, and watched the trees. They were falling, falling, falling, and then off they went! Over to the other side! I giggled as I watched the dizzy trees, swaying. Watching the trees, my tiredness took over me, and I fell asleep happily.





    {}{}{}{}

    “Why are you naked, little girl?”

    I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but the sound of this person’s voice woke me up. I opened my eyes, and forgot where I was for a moment. Then I remembered. The stream, the trees, away from people. I didn’t know who had said those words, so I turned around to see, and stared at the little creature in front of me, speechless.

    “What are you?” I finally asked, trying to sound like a grown up.

    “I’m Ricochet,” the creature answered. “I’m a Caterpie. What are you?”

    I stared at the little Caterpie in front of me. I had never seen something like this. It was small, and green, and if you closed your eyes a little bit, it looked like it was hiding in the grass. It had a small thing sticking up on its head, and two big round eyes that stared at me.

    “What are you?” Ricochet repeated.

    “I don’t know,” I answered, forgetting all about sounding grown up. I had no idea what I was. “I think I’m a little girl, but I don’t know.”

    “What happened to all your clothes?” Ricochet asked, his eyes looking softer somehow.

    “I don’t remember,” I replied, trying to think. I didn’t even realize I was talking. “I don’t remember what happened to them. I woke up, and I was in a box and I had no clothes and…”

    “Is that where you got the wires and needles from?” Ricochet questioned, pointing with the thing on his head to my arm.

    I nodded.

    “I think you need some clothes,” Ricochet announced. “You’ll freeze, being out here. Don’t you have parents? Or a home?”

    I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.”

    Ricochet sighed. “We’ll get you some clothes. I guess you’ll be staying out here for a while then, is that right?” I shrugged my shoulders again. “Do you have a name, girl? You know I’m Ricochet, right?”

    I nodded.

    “Do you have a name?” Ricochet asked.

    “I don’t remember.”

    “Did they call you anything at the place where you lost your clothes?” Ricochet asked.

    I frowned, trying to remember. “They called me Charlie.”
    **PancaKe||
    Not trying to live like a christian
    tryin to live like Christ

  2. #2
    Like the Memory of a Kiss Kurai's Avatar
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    In a word: Wow. It's been years since I was so entranced by a Pokéfic, and I can honestly say you've hooked me, dear.

    -=: [rose.iii] -=:=- [the.kuraitenshi] -=:=- [those.things.with.wings] :=-

    i'll believe all your lies, just pretend you love me
    make believe, close your eyes
    i'll be anything for you

  3. #3
    Oh Snap! Gato Gurl914's Avatar
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    me too! talking with pokemon! post more i hunger for good fics!

  4. #4
    Goronda Type Vice-Webmaster Evil Figment's Avatar Vice-Webmaster
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    I think the last line would make a perfect chapter title at least, if not an overall story title. There's just a ring to "They called me Charlie" that fits very well.

    Great work, btw.
    Quote Originally Posted by Mintaka and Hurristat
    He's an evil director / He'll give out infractions / Do something wrong / And he takes direct actions
    Then what'll he do?/ He'll permaban you / You find your name slashed / With a message, 'Adieu'
    Sooooo...watch out!
    "It is said that the federal government, if it was in charge of the Sahara, would run out of sand in five years. Private enterprise, being more efficient, would do it in half the time - and they'd make money off the bridges." - me.
    "My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world." - Jack Layton's last letter. Rest in peace, Jack.

  5. #5
    ?Je§u$fRe@K* PancaKe's Avatar
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    ^.^ Thanks. I still have no idea what I want to call it, even though I was originally thinking of calling it "Charlie" or "The Charlie Delta Experiment" but I kinda decided not to. I think when I'm about half way, I'll be able to name it (hopefully :P) This next bit may become a bit trainerish, but I'll try not to make the whole fic go too bla blah trainer boring. ^.^ It'll all work out



    Part Two

    The bedsprings creaked as fifteen-year-old James jumped up and down, up and down, on his bed. Any moment now, his mother or father would come rushing in, demanding to know what on earth the racket was he was creating, and why all they could hear downstairs was a loud thudding. James didn’t care how much trouble he got into, because excitement had blinded his sense of logical thinking. There was excited, then there was over excited, and then there was James’s level of excitement. It was as if he were a little child first experiencing the taste of a lollipop.

    “JAMES WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON UP HERE?” his father bellowed, bursting into his room, slamming the door open. It banged against the wall, the sound of the connection echoing in the almost quiet room, the bedsprings creaking to a halt.

    “Hi, Dad,” James greeted sheepishly.

    “For goodness sakes, James, it’s almost eleven o clock, and you’re bed jumping?” His father sighed. “I thought you’d given that up at five.”

    All James could do was grin. “You know I’m excited,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “As if I could do anything else.”

    His father smiled and sat down on the bed, next to were James stood. James jumped and landed on his bottom, bouncing the bed and his father up and down. “You really should sleep if the first thing you’re going to do is go off into the never-never land tomorrow morning. Who knows? I might never see you again, you might get eaten up by wild pokemon, or by the mountain naitives.”

    James laughed. “There are no mountain naitives.”

    “How can you prove that?” his father countered.

    James laughed again. “I have no idea which one to get,” he confessed.

    “You know there are at least six species to choose from,” his father pointed out. “And Elm always provides the best of the best. Besides, I thought you were fixated on getting a Chikorita.”

    James rolled his eyes. “I was, but those things are just so, so, so girly!”

    His father laughed at James’s slight immaturity. “You know, they’re not that girly. I mean, I trained one after all.”

    James raised an eyebrow. “Anyway,” he continued. “I’m looking at Charmander now. They’re just so powerful, so awesome, so cool! I’m sure if I had one, it would be just the best!”

    “You should pick a pokemon based on its personality, rather than it’s type and how well it will do against certain pokemon,” his father advised. “Hang out with the damned thing first. That’s what got me to choose the Chikorita that is now the Meganium in our back yard that takes care of your mothers garden. Back then, in the day, Kelly was just so caring, and just… oh I can’t explain it. There was this link, this instant connection between the two. And that was when I decided I didn’t care if I looked like a sissy, Kelly was the one for me.”

    James grinned. “Well, I hope I have that connection with a Charmander, then.”

    His father laughed. “Why don’t you at least go to sleep and give your bed a rest. You don’t want to totally break it before you leave, do you?”

    James shrugged. “Why not?”

    “Don’t you dare,” his father threatened. He looked over to the backpack lying next to the desk in the corner. “Do you have everything you need packed in there?” James thrust a checklist into his fathers face. “Okay, okay. So you’ve packed, your wallet, your travel pass, your money and your keycard. You know, as soon as you run out of money to stop in whatever city your in and get a job and a cheap place to rent? Either that or come straight home.”

    “I know, and I won’t run out of money,” James rolled his eyes.

    “You’ve got spare change of clothes, a few T-shirts, and things like that? Good. Pokeballs and the other pokemon trainer stuff you’ll need? Maps? Okay, I think you’re set.”

    “I’ve also got a sleeping bag, and a small frypan in there,” James announced proudly.

    “You can fit all that in there?” his father asked.

    “Surprisingly.”

    “Well, then, I guess your all set.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice as he said this. “Tomorrow’s the big day, huh? Going off into the big wide world, to hopefully accomplish more than your old man.”

    “Not more,” James grinned. “Just as much.”

    His old man smiled. “That’s my boy. Never could outshine his father.”

    James poked out his tongue. His father got up and walked to the door. “Dad?” James said.

    His father turned around. “Yes, James?”

    “I’ll miss you,” James admitted. “Good night.”

    “Goodnight James,” his father smiled sadly, before turning out the light and leaving James sitting on his bed, wide awake, in the dark.





    {}{}{}{}

    “Oh my gosh it’s TOMORROW MORNING!” James shrieked, bolting downstairs with his backpack and other items. His mother looked up at the rush of noise and smiled.

    “The house will be quiet without you, Jimmy James,” she greeted. “How about the breakfast of champions?”

    “Let’s just go! Forget about breakfast!” James cried.

    “It’s eight o clock, we don’t have to be there until ten,” his mother pointed out. “Chill out.”

    His father wandered out the bedroom in his boxors. “What’s all the noise? Is that bacon I smell?”

    “Straight from the Swinub’s hide,” his mother sang out from in front of the frypan.

    “Mmm, sound’s delicious!” His father sat down at the table to wait, boxors and all.

    “Go get ready Dad!” James exclaimed. He jumped up and down, panicky. “If we’re not there in time I wont ‘make my connection’ like you said!”

    “Make a connection?” his mother repeated, confused. “What’s all that about?”

    “Nothing, dear,” his father replied, bright red, burying himself behind the paper.





    {}{}{}{}

    Breakfast was eaten, too slowly according to James, and then his father got himself ready, too slowly according to James, and then they drove to New Bark’s Pokemon Research and Care Center. James sat in the back seat, practically wetting himself from excitement.

    When they got there, James tried to contain some of his excitement, in order to look cool. The doors slid open for them automatically as they walked in. The room was not that crowded, only five or so others had been selected to receive their pokemon at ten o clock. The others had been scheduled for later dates and times, due to the ungodly rush that would crave a pokemon of their own.

    “Wow,” was all James could say. The pokemon up for selection sat behind a small fence, and were being watched over by standing by nurses and research assistants.

    “Hello, Marsha, Blake,” a tall skinny man with glasses greeted James’s parents. “How do you do today?”

    “Elm! Buddy! Long time no see!” his father embraced a surprised Elm, almost squeezing the skinny man to death. Upon release, Elm straightened his coat and then turned to James.

    “I’m guessing you’re James, right?”

    “Yeah,” James replied. “Nice to meet you.”

    “Nice to meet you too,” Elm answered. “Did you want to have a chance to meet the pokemon before you made your choice? Many trainers have found they get along and bond with the pokemon they meet before hand, as opposed to mail order pokemon and pokemon bought off Ebay.”

    “Yeah,” James nodded, trying to contain his excitement. His parents smiled and went off to talk with one of the nurses about training and things along those lines. James dropped his bags and things next to a chair and walked slowly over to the fence, looking at the pokemon on display in front of him.

    There were about six pokemon or so, some sitting down on chairs or cushions, some eating or drinking, others right up against the fence, conversing with to-be trainers. James teetered up to the fence nervously, and peered over the knee-high restrainer at the creatures. The Chikorita that lay on the cushion in front of him eyed all the people and then went back to its sleep, not showing a bit of interest. The Bulbasaur next to it was right up against the fence, listening to a trainer talk to it intensely. Other people were playing with the Quilava, the Squirtle and the Totodile, mucking around with them and having a good old time.

    James searched the pokemon play-pen. Where was the Charmander he so longed to call his own? Where was the little orange lizard with its burning tail? Shouldn’t it be here?

    He turned to ask Elm about the Charmander’s whereabouts, and crashed right into the professor. “Um, sorry, professor!”

    “No worry, no harm done, none at all!” the professor chattered back to him. “What’s the problem?”

    “Where’s the Charmander?” was all that James could ask.

    “The Charmander?” Elm frowned. “You know, you’re the first person to ask about Jupiter all day.”

    “Jupiter?” James repeated.

    Elm walked off, and beckoned James to follow him. “Jupiter is the name given to Charmander. We received him a few days ago, but he’s had some things, you might call them issues, which we’ve tried to help him with. Honestly, I’ve never met such a dramatic and brash creature.”

    “Brash?” James repeated, confused. “How can you tell if the Charmander is brash if you can’t even talk to it?”

    “Brash simply is like, in a hurry, making impulse decisions without thinking, and being quite up front about things,” Elm explained, leading James down a hall way. “In some cases, brashness can be considered a good thing. In Jupiter, however, it’s caused a lot of problems with the other pokemon. So many, that we’ve decided to separate it.”

    “But what about it finding a trainer?” James inquired, feeling quite sorry for this isolated Charmander.

    “Well, we figured, if there was a trainer prepared enough to take on such a challenge, then they’d ask about it. And you asked,” Elm shrugged. He stopped at a doorway and punched in an access code and entered a dark room. James followed, cautiously.

    The room was dark except for a flickering little light in the corner. Elm flicked a switch, and instantly the room was flooded with artificial florescent light. The creature in the corner jumped up and yelled out in surprise!

    “CHAR!” he gasped, clutching his chest with one claw, and leaning against the wall with the other, breathing in and out heavily.

    “This is the Charmander?” James asked.

    “Jupiter, this is James. James, this is Jupiter,” Elm introduced. “Don’t be nasty, Jupiter. This is the only trainer to ask about you.”

    The Charmander made a scissors action with two of his claws and cut his arm, and then his chest.

    “Okay, that might have been a bit upsetting,” Elm continued. “But honestly, I think you and James will make a good team.”

    For a moment, Jupiter studied James, staring at the boy with bright blue eyes. “Char,” he stated simply, walking over and extending a paw.

    Elm looked pleasantly surprised.





    {}{}{}{}

    The sun shone down and warmed my skin. It tickled it almost, making it feel hot in places and then moving up and down my arms and legs. My feet were nice and cool in the water, and after some encouragement from Ricochet, I found myself standing in the water. It came up to my knees, and swirled and washed around me, dragging little rocks and pieces of sand in between my toes.

    “This is so nice, Ricochet!” I giggled.

    Ricochet smiled. I couldn’t see his mouth, but his eyes looked happy, so I knew he was smiling. “Be careful that you don’t tear the covering!” he called back.

    I nodded, waving my arms up and down. My long hair was touching the water, getting wet. I could feel it pulling. My hair was shorter at the front than at the back, although I had no idea why, but Ricochet said it was nothing to worry about.

    I had known Ricochet for as long as I could remember, and he had been taking care of me for as long as I could remember. He was such a clever Caterpie. He made this stringy stuff and used it to glue leaves together, and he made me coverings. He made me warm ones for the cold weather, and ones that let me go swimming in the warm weather.

    “Ricochet, come in!” I called. I bent down and cupped the water in my hands, and threw it at him, laughing. Ricochet scurried away from where the water landed and shook his head.

    “I think I’ll be right here,” he answered.

    Little creatures swam around past my ankles, and kept on swimming down the stream. I watched them as they moved their bodies side to side, wondering how they could do that.

    “How do they do that?” I asked Ricochet, pointing to the creatures that were in the water.

    Ricochet moved closer to the water and peered in. “That’s a school of baby Poliwag,” he told me. “They live in water, and out of it. Because they can breathe in the water, they can swim easily. They also have slippery bodies that lets them move through it easier.”

    Ricochet was always teaching me new and interesting things. He took really good care of me, and taught me everything I knew. If it hadn’t been for Ricochet, I wouldn’t know which berries or flowers to eat, and which things were dangerous. He was always telling me what was right and what was wrong. He explained to me the ways things worked, the way things were and how to live alongside other pokemon by the stream.

    I climbed out the stream and sat down next to Ricochet on the grass. “How come I can’t swim?” I asked him. “I think it would be fun to swim like the baby Poliwag.”

    “You breathe air,” Ricochet explained patiently. “Those Poliwag can breathe air and water. They are good swimmers because they can breathe. If you tried to swim like a Poliwag, then you wouldn’t be able to breathe.”

    “Why not?” I asked.

    “When we breathe, our lungs fill up with air. Their lungs can fill up with water and air, but their lungs filter the water out. Our lungs don’t do that, so we would just get a lot of water in our lungs. When we get lots of water in our lungs, we can’t breathe because there is no more room for air.”

    “Oh.” I lay back on the grass, and watched the sky. A flock of Pidgey flew overhead, flapping their wings and making their way across the clouds and blue. I wondered where they were going.

    Ricochet got up from where he lay, and walked over towards the stream for a drink. More Pidgey flew up ahead, in the same direction as the other flock. Ricochet noticed this, and shook his head. “It is that time again,” he sighed.

    “What time?” Ricochet had never mentioned a time before, or anything along those lines.

    “Haven’t I ever told you about that time?” Ricochet asked, surprised. He walked over and sat down next to me. “I will have to tell you then.”

    I eagerly sat up, listening hard.

    “There is a time where the young and weak Pidgey venture north, away from their usual habitat. It is at this time that pokemon know to be careful and to stay hidden away, until the Pidgey return.”

    “Why do we have to stay hidden?”

    “Because when the weak Pidgey go north, it means that a new group of catchers are coming out. Catchers catch pokemon, and take them away from their family and their friends. When the catchers pass through, it is important to stay hidden. All smart pokemon stay hiding, and all the stupid ones end up becoming slaves.”

    “That sounds horrible!”

    “It is. Captured pokemon think that it is good to be captured, and to be friends with the catcher and to be in fights and win competitions. It is abuse to the natural abilities of pokemon, however. If anybody forces you to use your abilities for anything other than living and everyday survival, it is abusing them. These captured pokemon think that they are having fun, but they don’t realize they are being abused. That is why when the Pidgey fly north from New Bark, it means that catchers are on their way. And we have to hide from them when they come closer.”



    {}{}{}{}

    “So, Jupiter, apparently you’re brash and dramatic,” James said slowly, breaking the silence. He walked along, his hands holding the straps of his backpack, his newly aquired pokemon walking along beside him.

    The Charmander shrugged and rolled its blazing blue eyes. “Char,” he replied.

    Silence followed.

    James felt awkward, walking along with this creature that was supposed to be his long term partner in power, the first of a team of many that would help him collect all the badges and be just like his father, with eight shiny badges on display in the living room. How on earth would he do this if he couldn’t even carry off a conversation with the damned monster? James felt so stupid for even wanting to come on a pokemon journey, he felt so stupid for getting so excited and worked up for it, when already, after half an hour of traveling, was tired, hungry, and couldn’t even talk to his Charmander.

    James found a tree with a bit of grass underneath it, and threw himself down on the ground, deflated. He sighed loudly, and closed his eyes.

    Jupiter grinned.

    “Ooof!” James cried, the breath being knocked out his lungs as Jupiter landed on his back. “What the hell?” He got up, Jupiter falling on the ground in the process, and turned to face Jupiter, gasping and holding his back. “What the hell?” he repeated, angry.

    Jupiter’s expression grew scared.

    “Where’d that come from?” James continued. “What was that for? Man, my back is killing me now! What’s with doing that stuff?”

    Jupiter shrank down, trying to make himself as little as possible, and turned around. James instantly felt bad for yelling at Jupiter, but the Charmander needed to learn some common sense. Part of James wanted to apologize to Jupiter. Part of James wanted revenge.

    Grinning evilly, James slowly reached out, and then pushed the ball that was Jupiter. Jupiter rolled down the slight slope, and unraveled at the bottom, dazed. He looked up from where he was sprawled across the grass at James, and grinned.

    James laughed at the sight of the spastic grinning Charmander. Jupiter laughed too. The tension of the morning eased away as the afternoon arrived, as Jupiter and James became friendlier towards each other.

    Jupiter seemed to share James’s love of bread. The loaf of bread that had been packed by James’s mother, to be eaten over the course of a week or so, had been devoured within minutes by the hungry pokemon and trainer.

    James felt much closer to Jupiter. He assumed Jupiter felt the same from the friendly “Char” it cried as it beamed up at him, mouth full of bread.

    “So, Jupiter,” James began, this time much more confident. “You’re really dramatic, ey?”

    Jupiter placed a paw on his heart and gasped, loud and long. “Char!” he cried, shocked. He shook his head. James could only laugh.

    “Hey, Jupiter, you want to hear something corny?” James asked. Jupiter looked up, curious. “I think this is the beginning of a wonderful and exciting adventure. James and Jupiter, the super team! Ready to take on anything in their way!”

    Jupiter stood up, his hands on his hips, looking up at the sky, chest out in the air. “Char!” he declared.




    {}{}{}{}

    Jupiter sighed as they kept walking. He wasn’t used to so much walking. His chest heaved in and out as they trekked through the long grass and the bushes and around the trees. Jupiter wouldn’t mind riding on James’s back. He looked up and tried to calculate how high it would be to jump up, but decided against it.

    He settled for walking slowly, lagging behind slightly. They had been walking all day. Shouldn’t they be setting up camp soon? Jupiter didn’t know. After all, this was his first journey, and everything that was happening was new to him.

    “Hey, Jupiter,” James said, turning around. Jupiter looked up at him. “Do you want to stop for the night? We can set up the tent, or just sleeping bags, because it’s not that cold, and we’ll make some dinner and get some sleep. How does that sound?”

    Jupiter grinned. “Char,” he replied. He thought it sounded fantastic. His stomach grumbled in agreement.

    James heard and laughed. “Right, we’ll stop at the next clearing we come across,” he announced. Jupiter sighed and dragged himself after James.

    Fortunately, the next clearing was not that far away. Jupiter threw himself on the ground, his eyes shut, his body worn out. This was going to be a tiring journey, or at least, until he got used to it. He heard James throw down his backpack, but didn’t bother looking.

    “I’m going to go get some water from the stream,” James informed Jupiter. “It’s just over there through the trees. Mind the backpack while I’m gone.”

    James turned and left. Jupiter opened one eye, and looked at the lonesome backpack. He crawled over to it and collapsed on top, eyes shutting and refusing to open.

    How long he slept for, he didn’t know. The sounds of James returning with the water woke him up, but he was too lazy to make obvious signs of his alertness. Suddenly, he felt James pushing him. His deadweight made him difficult to move off the backpack. Opening one eye, and glaring sleepily, he found himself jumping up startled, and gasping for air, as he realized that James had not returned.

    “What the hell?” Jupiter yelled. “What the hell are you doing, pushing me off the backpack?”

    “It’s obvious he’s a thief,” another voice commented from up above. The Sentrent glared at Jupiter, before working his paws away, trying to open the sack.

    “Do you mind?” Jupiter asked. “That’s not yours.”

    “I know,” the Sentrent answered offhandedly.

    “So what do you think you’re doing?” Jupiter asked.

    The Sentrent whipped out something shiny and grinned. “See ya.” He turned and scampered.

    “Watch the bag!” Jupiter yelled to the third party watching, and dashed after the squirrel. Leaping up in the air, he dove for the rodent and tackled his hind legs, taking him down. They both landed on the ground with a loud thud. Jupiter thought that he was dead, as he lay on the Sentrent, winded.

    He felt the Sentrent squirming beneath him. “Where the hell are you going with what you stole?” Jupiter demanded. The Sentrent continued squirming. Jupiter held onto him tightly, being dragged along the ground.

    “Would you let go?” the Sentrent screeched, turning around and pushing Jupiter. Jupiter raised one hand and brought it across the Sentrent’s face, scratching it with its claws. He wasn’t sure what he had meant to do, but the Sentrent didn’t seem too happy about it, so Jupiter assumed he had done the right thing.

    “I’m not letting go until you give back what you took,” Jupiter growled at the squirrel. The Sentrent continued squirming, waving his stubby arms about.

    “Just get off would you?” the Sentrent yelled out. Jupiter shook his head. Sentrent tried to push him off again, but Jupiter slapped him across the face. Holding on with one arm, Jupiter continued the constant slapping, his eyes shut, not having any idea of what he was hitting.

    He felt his paw connect with an object other than the Sentrent, and he grabbed on to the stolen item. He tugged on it, and felt a sharp tug back. His claw closed around the object tightly. “Let go!” he yelled at Sentrent.

    “Why?” Sentrent replied.

    “Because it’s NOT YOURS!” Jupiter yelled, slapping Sentrent, leaving shining scratch marks across his cheek. Sentrent dropped the item and grabbed his cheek.

    “Ouch!” he cried.

    Jupiter sat there, stunned for a moment, dangling the stolen item in his claw. Realizing he was holding James’s possession, he got up and turned and ran from the Sentrent. “Go away!” he yelled over his shoulder.

    He ran over to the bag and shoved the shiny thing inside. He had no idea what it was. The third party Pidgey raised an eyebrow from where he was watching the bag. “Some skills,” he commented.

    Jupiter’s chest heaved in and out, as he struggled for oxygen. “Shut up,” he managed to tell the Pidgey, who chuckled.

    “So, can I have it back?” the Sentrent asked.

    Jupiter turned around. “Piss off!” he snapped.

    James came through the bushes, carrying a pot of water. “Hey! Jupiter!” James cried. “A Sentrent! Let’s catch it!”

    “Char!” Jupiter yelled, shook his head and collapsed once more on the bag. The Pidgey chuckled once more from above, as the Sentrent turned and scampered.

    ~fin~
    **PancaKe||
    Not trying to live like a christian
    tryin to live like Christ

  6. #6
    Goronda Type Vice-Webmaster Evil Figment's Avatar Vice-Webmaster
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    Jupiter is awesome *grins*.

    In other news, perhaps you can tell me...is a 8-9 post day (which today seems to pretty much have been) pretty normal for TPM-ff these days? Because if so...whoa, that's a mood-dampener (I mean, back in the heydays, that'S less than what the ilk of TEL, MPCEL, TGE and all the other high-popularity fics would get on update day...)
    Last edited by Evil Figment; 30th November 2004 at 12:22 AM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Mintaka and Hurristat
    He's an evil director / He'll give out infractions / Do something wrong / And he takes direct actions
    Then what'll he do?/ He'll permaban you / You find your name slashed / With a message, 'Adieu'
    Sooooo...watch out!
    "It is said that the federal government, if it was in charge of the Sahara, would run out of sand in five years. Private enterprise, being more efficient, would do it in half the time - and they'd make money off the bridges." - me.
    "My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world." - Jack Layton's last letter. Rest in peace, Jack.

  7. #7
    Oh Snap! Gato Gurl914's Avatar
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    ha ha jupiter's awesome!!!

  8. #8
    A black and white world Blackjack Gabbiani's Avatar
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    One thing--giving a major fic character the same name as a major character from the same series (in this case, James) is extremely confusing, even if you're not working in the same timeline.

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