awesome, it was well descrived and i felt i saw the scene
awesome, it was well descrived and i felt i saw the scene
You're really creative, creating the green beam of the Poké ball and also the three stage Psychic!
Man, this story is awesome! You've really put alot of cool things into this story, i really hope you'll continue writing and then post upcoming episodes right here!
Keep it up!
Thanks for the reviews everyone. This is my longest chapter yet, and it was going to be even longer still. But you know, it's a month overdue and I figured that to make it any longer might kill some of the moments in this. So, here it is (at long last). I'll try to start updating more than once a month from now on.
Chapter 30: Hostage
Giovanni watched, impassive, from behind foot-thick walls and glass as twenty men struggled to carry a massive cage - and the legendary Pokemon within - through the blast doors leading from Namba’s lab. It’s long, sinuous neck darted in every direction as it let loose a screech of rage, jabbing its beak at the men that transported it. The pecks collided against the bars with an incredible force, sending sparks cascading downwards.
“You did very well,” Giovanni said softly as two figures, both almost as tall as he was, approached from the dark recess by the door.
“Thank you, Boss,” said the first, a broad-shouldered man with spiked yellow hair that was swept over to one side.
“First the Rayquaza, and now Moltres,” Giovanni continued. “Every Pokemon you capture is one less Pokemon that I have to pay Hunter J for. And by capturing the Moltres you’ve already done more than those idiots Cassidy and Butch could hope to accomplish.”
The second, lither man nodded, his long steel-grey hair shining slightly in the dim light of the room. “I will admit that the Moltres caused us some trouble, but not as much as we had feared.” He paused for a moment. “With the modifications made by Professor Sebastian to the Miracle Crystal, we can use it to attract any Pokemon, not just electric-types. It worked well with Moltres, and if two or three more could be constructed…”
“We could get the last legendaries much more quickly,” his partner interjected. Giovanni bristled and turned to face them.
“Do you have any idea what it would cost to make more Miracle Crystals?” he demanded. “The prototype - which was destroyed when you attempted to capture Raikou - was a small fortune, and the one you used to capture Moltres cost twice as much!”
“It’s not really my place to say,” the smaller man said carefully, “but, knowing the cost of both a Miracle Crystal and of Hunter J’s service, it would seem to me that a small fortune could be saved by building, using, and reusing the Crystal’s, rather than relying on Hunter J’s service for each individual Pokemon capture.”
Giovanni frowned, deep in thought. “Buson, get Professor Sebastian,” he ordered the first man. Nodding, Buson turned and quickly left the room. “How many Pokemon can be contained within a Miracle Crystal, Bashou?” he asked the second man. Bashou opened his mouth to respond, but was forestalled by an almighty crash and unearthly scream from the room beyond the thick walls and window. Giovanni whirled and was, for once, rendered speechless.
A cage, supported by 40 grunts and containing a Heatran, was passing by the Moltres cage as it was taken to Namba’s lab and the Moltres was returned to the storing hold. One of the men had abruptly let go of the cage and fallen, tripping up three other carriers as he went down. With the support of four men missing, the strain of the cage and the heavy Pokemon within became too much for the others. As they shouted warnings to each other, the imbalanced cage began to slope at a dangerous angle. Those closest to the imbalance began to panic as the weight became too much for their shoulders to bear and, fearing they would be crushed, jumped to safety.
The Heatran cage tipped, the corner becoming lodged within the bars of the Moltres’s cage. For a moment, all seemed frozen as the Moltres and the Heatran stared at each other, separated by mere inches of steel and air. With a shriek, the Moltres began to glow orange, reared back its neck, and shot forth a sizzling burst of the most powerful and intense flames that had ever been seen.
The steel bars had been specially crafted to resist any impact, temperature, or Pokemon attack. It was no match for the raw power of an enraged legendary Pokemon.
The flames disintegrated the cage bars easily. All of the grunts ran for cover from the intensity of the attack, and the heat could be felt even through the foot-thick and reinforced glass that protected Giovanni and Bashou. With a guttural roar the Heatran charged towards the legendary bird, its head glowing silver, seemingly unharmed by the attack. The Moltres flapped its wings to gain what little air room it could, and shot forwards towards its opponent in a blazing orange blur. The Heatran stumbled and collapsed with a grunt of pain as the Sky Attack hit its mark.
Moltres screeched at the collision with Heatran’s heavy armoured head, bouncing away almost comically. It quickly corrected its balance and wheeled around to face the Heatran. The injured Pokemon twisted its head and shot forth a powerful burst of flames at the flying-type. Moltres reacted in kind, its attack easily disrupting Heatran’s flames and powering through to completely envelop the weakened Pokemon. Ordinarily, Heatran would not have been affected by any type of fire, even those from another legendary. But the Moltres had been infected with Namba’s mutant virus, the Perporus, powering it up to unnatural levels. What’s more, the sheer force of the Sky Attack had actually caused a small crack on the steel helmet of the Heatran. Flash-Fire was no protection against this.
“Get armed grunts in there now!” Giovanni ordered through an intercom. “Take down that Moltres immediately!” One man, sensing the chance of promotion, leaped out from behind a stack of crates and threw the first thing that came to hand into the remnants of the cage; a wrench. It clunked against the Moltres’s back, serving only to irritate the legendary Pokemon further before it was incinerated by the sizzling heat of its body. The Moltres wheeled angrily and unleashed a blistering fire attack. The man had time only for one quick, agonized scream before his body and life was consumed by the flames.
Bashou turned, covering his mouth at the sight of the man’s blackened corpse smouldering. Not even Giovanni was immune from a fleeting urge to vomit. Several more grunts dashed into the room, followed by a horde of Blastoise, Vaporeon, Swampert, Pelipper, Poliwrath and Feraligatr. They stopped short at the sight of the dead man’s smoking body and then bravely began to inch their way around the room, trying to surround the Moltres.
“Everyone in position?” one man yelled. “Hydro Pumps and Hydro Cannons on the count of three; one… two… three!” Numerous powerful jets of water blasted across the room, each one aimed directly at the Moltres. The Moltres let out a screech and began to glow a deep red. Giovanni watched, a grim smile on his face as each water attack impacted the legendary Pokemon, immediately covering the room in thick, billowing steam. Not even a Moltres could stand against this.
“Well Bashou, it would appear that we shall need another Moltres,” Giovanni said, turning to face him. Bashou did not answer, his gaze riveted on the window over Giovanni’s shoulder, his mouth slightly gape. Frowning, Giovanni turned his gaze back to the holding room, noticing that it was still swathed in steam. A faint orange pinprick of light was visible in the centre of the room. It quickly grew much larger and brighter. “No… It’s impossible!” he breathed, rooted to the spot.
For the remainder of his life, Bashou would be unable to explain where the sudden surge of energy came from. Snapping out of his astonishment, he realized that the approaching light would mean both their deaths if they stayed watching. Neither could they run out the door. That left only one option.
Grabbing Giovanni by the back of the neck, he somehow managed to force his superior’s considerable frame to the ground. Seconds later, the light resolved into an immensely powerful Flamethrower that easily blasted its way through the reinforced glass. Giovanni instinctively covered his eyes, and when he dared remove his arm he found himself staring into face of Moltres. The Pokémon’s eyes were tinged with hatred, insanity, and something altogether more human than he had suspected. For the first time in his life, he felt a gut-wrenching, tingling sensation that he realized must be fear. The Moltres opened its mouth and Giovanni lay there, frozen, the realization that his life was about to end blocking out all other fault.
And then, inexplicably, the Moltres hesitated. It let out a screech that reverberated within his very soul and then, glowing orange once more, shot upwards through the ceiling, paving its way to freedom with Sky Attack.
The thermometer beeped. For a brief instant, they didn’t realize what was happening. And then the implications struck.
“She’s alive!” Brock shouted, running towards the bedside; Nurse Joy quickly grabbed the thermometer before he could accidentally knock it away.
“110... 109... 108... I don’t believe it, Flash-Fire is actually taking the fever out of her body! I’ve never seen anything like it in my life!” she exclaimed.
“Brock,” Professor Oak cut in from the video screen, “you said something about a pustule on her chest?”
“Uhh... right!” Brock said, snapping back to the situation at hand. “We think it may be the Pokerus.” Professor Oak paused for a moment.
“That’s impossible, Brock,” he said. “The Pokerus can only be transmitted between Pokemon. Humans are immune to the disease.”
“Professor, May had all of the same symptoms that Latias did when she was infected. You saw how both she and Latias reacted to high-pitched noises as well. I know it seems impossible, but there’s nothing else to explain the infection,” Brock replied. Professor Oak contemplated this silently.
“I need a clear shot of the pustule on her chest,” he said. “If you’re going to try and cut it out, wear gloves before you touch it and vacuum-seal the pustule in a lab container. Send it to me through the transfer machine below this screen and I’ll examine it with Gary. I don’t think its Pokerus, but it could be a related disease that’s known even less.”
“Got it,” Brock nodded. He turned to Rey, Dawn, and his brother. “You’d all better clear out of the room,” he said.
“What?” Rey protested. “But... why?”
“Because this could be dangerous, and we don’t need any distractions,” he answered.
“So why are you and Ash staying?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“I’m staying to control the Professor’s viewing screen so he can guide Nurse Joy through this,” he said.
“And Ash?” Dawn asked.
“Ash is staying because, for some strange reason, he actually seems to be able to control those suffering from Pokerus. He was able to calm Latias down when she was infected, and he did the same with May a few moments ago. Besides, it’s only right that he, of all people, be allowed to stay here for this.” Rey’s eyes narrowed.
“So you’re saying that Ash is somehow superior to us and therefore allowed to stay and watch?” she asked.
“I’m saying that given the depth of his, ah, friendship with May, he has the right to be here with her as she undergoes a painful surgery,” he answered calmly.
“He’s right,” Forrest said quietly, his mouth dry as he backed his older brother up. “We’d only be a distraction. And do we really need to stay and watch somebody’s chest get cut open?” Rey’s mouth worked for a few seconds, but no sound came out. At last, giving up, she turned and left the room without a word. Dawn and Forrest followed her silently. Once outside, however, Rey abruptly turned and pushed Forrest against the wall.
“Rey!” Dawn gasped, shocked.
“Don’t you ever dare do that again,” she seethed, ignoring her. Forrest looked up at her in amazement.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Go against me like you did just now. I’m trying to offer my support, and then you make sure that support is rebuffed,” she snarled, punctuating each remark with a jab of her finger to his chest. It suddenly struck Forrest how much taller than him Rey was; his eyes narrowed.
“Is it really May that you’re worried about in there,” he asked. “Or are you only concerned about Ash? Would you really be that upset if May suddenly died today?” Rey reeled away, looking as if she’d been slapped.
“Get away from me, you squint-eyed freak,” she growled, turning and storming away. Dawn stared after her roommate, open-mouthed. She thought about running after her, then, changing her mind, turned to Forrest instead.
“Are you okay?” she asked in concern.
“I guess so,” he answered. “We Rock-type trainers are pretty tough, you know.” But behind his bravado and eyelashes, Dawn could see a glimmer of tears.
“What she said... it was uncalled for,” she said uncomfortably.
“It was the truth,” he said simply. “Maybe not the way you or I saw it, but to her perception it was. She was offering support, and I did go against her.”
“Not in the way she made out.”
“Did I do any better?” Forrest asked. “I accused her of having a crush on Ash, and I insinuated that she wouldn’t care if May died because it would give her a chance with him. Her feelings must have been really hurt by that; you saw the look on her face.”
“I guess you were both a bit out of line,” Dawn said, still feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t know Rey that well yet, but I know her well enough to be pretty sure that she’ll be feeling really bad about the way she just acted towards you... and what she called you.”
“Both sides feel bad after an argument. It makes me wonder sometimes why we have them, when all it causes it grief. My guess is because everything has to have an opposite, and it’s an opposite to love.”
“Most people would say that hate is the opposite to love,” Dawn said.
“Hate is usually spawned from conflict,” Forrest answered. “The schoolchild hates his bully; the oppressed hate the oppressor; and in an argument, both sides will hate the other, even if it’s only for a brief moment.” Dawn looked at him curiously. He resembled his older brother in so many ways, but he was surprisingly philosophical for a love struck teenager. There was something very intriguing about him...
“Why do you and Brock have such squinty eyes?” she blurted. His mouth dropped and she winced, mortified that she had actually asked that. Then, to her complete surprise, he laughed.
“I can open my eyes as well as the next person,” he chuckled, demonstrating. “It’s not a genetic deformity; it’s a training tactic that my brother discovered.”
“Huh?” she asked, surprised that he wasn’t offended, and that there was actually an answer.
“Just after Brock became the Pewter City Gym Leader after, well...” his face darkened momentarily, “he began to do some serious training to make sure that he’d be a good Gym Leader. During a power cut, he accidentally found out that by closing his eyes almost all the way, it helped him to sense where his Pokemon was on the field. After a little extra practice, he could sense his opponents Pokemon too.
“It got to the point where he could predict how his Pokemon and its moves could be affected by the terrain on the battlefield. So, to help him develop the technique, he began to keep his eyes mostly closed all the time. He kept crashing into things at first, but over time he was able to sense everything around him, no matter where it was; a parked car, a bicycle that would suddenly cut in front, even a toy shovel left on the ground by one of my sisters. And that meant that he could use his Pokemon more effectively at any location, not just the Pewter Gym.”
“So you decided to try it too?” she asked. Forrest nodded.
“Yeah, and all my brothers and sisters too. Even my Dad started doing it when he was selling rocks on the outskirts, although my Mom always said that she’s never seen the point. It really works though; I’m not as good as Brock is at it, but then he’s had so much more time to develop it. You have to really know your Pokemon for it to work though; you should know it as well as you do yourself.”
“That’s amazing,” she said.
“It really makes me respect my brother,” he said. “When you think about how many Pokemon he has, and how quickly he bonds and battles with them... most of the time he’s unappreciated for what he brings to Ash’s group.”
Rey stormed out the doors of the Pokemon Centre, her fury so great that she didn’t even feel the cool night air as it brushed against her body.
“That... love struck... perverted... squint-eyed... bast...” she muttered, spitting out each word harshly as she moved, completely unaware of where she was going. With a great clang she reeled backwards, clamping her hands to her mouth in pain. “Ow... tha’ hurh,” she moaned, looking to see what had smacked into her face. With intense embarrassment, she realized that she had gone into a park just across the road from the Pokemon Centre and walked straight into a swing set.
She sat down in the swing, feeling her jaw gingerly. One side of her mouth was slightly warm and sticky, and she realized that she must have split her lip. Grumbling under her breath she rummaged in her bag, trying to find something to wipe away the blood.
“Here, take mine,” a massive man said, offering her a clean cloth. She shrieked in surprise and fell backwards off the swing, sprawling on the ground with her legs still tangled in the seat. She hadn’t even noticed him sitting next to her.
“Thith jush ishn’ ma day,” she moaned.
“It sure looks that way,” the man agreed. “That was quite a spectacular crash you had with the swing. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t seem to hear me even though you were only a couple of feet away.” He then averted his eyes. “And I’d suggest that the next time you decide to fall over like that, you wear a longer skirt.”
“Well don’ jush wook,” she shouted.
“I’m not,” he protested. “That’s why I turned away.”
“Ib behah shay a’ way,” she warned, struggling to get back up. It only took her a few seconds to realize that her legs were tangled, rendering her hopelessly overbalanced. “I’m shuck,” she complained. “Hewp me up?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the man sighed. He reached out a hand, grabbed Rey by the arm, and pulled her up effortlessly.
“’Anksh,” she mumbled. “I’ shawee; I shpli’ ma lip on sha poe’.” The man squinted in the dim light, examining her mouth.
“Yup, you’ve got a mighty fine fat lip there already; here,” he said, offering his cloth again. This time she took it with a minimal amount of drama, and gently dabbed at her bleeding lips.
“Anksh,” she said again.
“No problem,” the man replied as he sat down on the swing again; it creaked under his weight. Rey suddenly realized just how large this man. Not fat, just... big. Even in the dark she could see his muscles straining against the fibres of his shirt. She was no slouch when it came to height, but he was also a good foot taller than her.
“Something wrong?” the man asked pleasantly, noticing her staring at him. She looked away before he could see the red tinge creeping up her cheeks.
“Ah... no,” she managed to say. He nodded towards the Pokemon Centre.
“I’m looking for a guy named Forrest,” he said. “Do you know if he’s in there?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Fowesh ish ah weashon I’ ou’ ‘ere wi’ a bweedin’ mou’,” she growled. The man looked surprised.
“Really?” he asked. “May I ask why?” And so Rey launched into a full and vociferous tirade on just why she was out here with a bleeding lip, and why she hated Forrest so much. In the end, it was the need to take a breath of air that caused her to stop ranting, a pause the stranger quickly took advantage of.
“Right, I think I’ll go and have a talk with this Forrest,” he said, standing from the swing and cracking his knuckles menacingly. Rey paled.
“You... you won’t hurt him, will you?” she asked, completely unaware that she was talking properly again. The stranger noted the concern in her voice and smiled slightly to himself, an action completely obscured by the darkness. His reply, however, was gruff with a hint of danger in it.
“I let my Pokemon do the talking for me, Baby” he said, striding off towards the Pokemon Centre. “I have a score to settle with him, and this only makes me want to do it more.”
“Baby? I’m not a baby...” Rey stared after him for a few seconds before she realized that this man was quite possibly on his way to beat Forrest to a pulp.
“Wait!” she shouted, tearing off after him. “Wait!”
“Brock, can you adjust the screen a little?” Professor Oak asked. “I need to get a closer shot of that pustule.”
“Sure thing, Professor,” Brock nodded from off-camera, zooming in on May’s chest.
“Brock... I need to see the pustule, not her breast,” Oak sighed
“Sorry Professor, I don’t have an external screen to go on. Can you tell me where to shift the lens?”
“Left... down a bit... a bit more... left... left... okay, hold it there!” He took a close look at the pustule, noting its colour, contours, and size. “It does look a bit like the Pokerus,” he admitted grudgingly, “but we won’t know for certain until I can examine it here.”
“How will you be able to do that?” Brock asked. “Your lab was destroyed.”
“My house was destroyed,” Oak answered, “but my lab and research storage room were kept safe because they were built underground and reinforced for safety. All of my equipment is still there, so I should still be able to examine it.”
“Professor,” Delia called, coming down the hallway. “There’s a nice young man here who would like to help you out with the rebuilding effort.”
“That’s very nice, but I’m a little busy at the moment,” Oak said, barely glancing away from the screen.
“I’m so sorry,” Delia said, turning to the new arrival. “Would you like some dinner? It’s just out of the oven.”
“I’d love some, thank you,” he answered politely, flicking away a strand of dark hair that was straying into his eyes. “I’ve come a long way to get here, and a home cooked meal would certainly be a nice change from the typical travelling fare.”
“I’ll be right back with your plate,” Delia promised, heading into the kitchen.
“Joy, make an inch-long incision just below the pustule. Brock, make sure that you pad the area thoroughly with the absorbent foam; we want as little spillage as possible. Hold her head steady, Ash, we don’t want her to start thrashing around again,” Oak directed, his eyes focused on the screen and completely unaware of the man standing behind him. The front door burst open and Tracey and Norman walked into the room, chatting light-heartedly. Tracey’s smile froze and fell as he beheld the young man standing nearby the Professor.
“Oh, so you found the house okay I guess,” he said. The man smiled, once again sending shivers down Tracey’s spine.
“Yes... Your directions were exemplary, right down to the Mr. Mime,” he said softly. Norman, although not affected by the smile, did not like his tone, or the look in his eyes. He took a step forwards.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before... What do you want here?”
“Norman!” Oak called, the sound of his voice causing the Professor to realize his presence. “Norman, I’m on the line to the Vermillion City Pokemon Centre; May’s very sick, and she’s being operated on right now.”
“What?” Norman shouted, his face pale as he dashed forwards towards the screen.
“Here’s your tray,” Delia sang out, backing out of the kitchen with a heavily laden dish. The stranger moved faster than any of them could follow. Delia shrieked and dropped the tray as the cold, hard blade of a Scyther pressed against her neck, released from the stranger’s Poke Ball. He ducked behind his Pokemon and hostage as Professor Oak and Norman turned to the commotion and Tracey started forwards.
“Nobody move,” he growled. “My Pokemon are trained to kill if necessary; this Scyther’s blades are sharp enough to cut right through her neck if I give the order.”
“Professor, there’s too much bleeding; there isn’t enough foam to absorb it,” Brock shouted from the screen, his panicked voice sounding tinny to their ears.
“Answer that and this woman dies,” the stranger growled.
“But... it’s my daughter who he’s trying to help,” Norman pleaded.
“Professor Oak, are you there? She’s beginning to thrash around again, Ash can’t hold her. She’s losing too much blood, we can’t stop it!” Brock shouted again.
“Her life doesn’t concern me,” the stranger answered. “Give me what I want and you can save two lives tonight. If you don’t, this woman and your daughter will both die.”
“What is it that you want?” Oak asked, comprehension beginning to dawn as Kurt’s words came back to him. "This guy is ruthless. Once he found out I didn’t have the GS Ball anymore, he used his Pokemon to knock me out. He won’t be afraid to do the same, or worse, to you." He remembered Kurt’s description of his attacker and inwardly cursed; this man was identical to him in every aspect. How did he get here from Johto so quickly?
“I want the GS Ball,” the stranger said simply.
“I don’t have it,” Oak said simply. “The girl who took it from Kurt never delivered it to me.”
“Scyther!” the man ordered, and the Pokemon put more pressure on the blade held against Delia’s neck. She turned white as it bit through her skin and a little spurt of blood began to pool on the blade. “You’re lying,” he hissed. “Kurt told me that he gave it to a girl on a Pidgeot, who then gave it to you.” Norman gasped as the realization struck him.
“She forgot,” Oak said, forcing himself to keep calm.
“Then where is it?” the man growled.
“It’s still with her, Paul,” Oak said, looking him straight in the eye. If Paul was surprised that Oak knew his name, he didn’t show it.
“And where is she?” he asked. Oak hesitated before answering, turning instead to look at Norman. The Gym Leader’s face was tortured. His whole world rested on this one pivotal answer. If it wasn’t given, May would die, and Delia along with her. If it was given May could still die, but...
But she had Ash to protect her. And he would know that Paul was coming.
His eyes closed, misery and pain still etched into his face, he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Oak closed his eyes and answered.
“She’s his dying daughter,” he said softly.
Paul looked at them incredulously and swore. “It can’t be,” he said. “It’s with her, and she's with...”
“Professor!” Brock screamed from the videophone. Oak took the chance.
“Brock, trust me when I say this is a matter of life or death,” he snapped. “Does Ash still have the GS Ball?”
“Does Ash still have the GS Ball!” he roared.
“Of course he does, who else would have it?” Brock shouted. “She’s dying Oak!”
“You have your answer,” Oak said softly, looking at Paul with an expression of pure loathing on his face.
“Honchkrow; through the glass!” Paul shouted, unleashing the dark-type and jumping on its back. There was the sound of shattering glass, a streak of red light as Scyther was recalled, and then nothing. The stranger was gone. Shivering, Delia collapsed to the ground in a state of shock, her eyes wide and blood still flowing from the cut on her neck.
“Tracey, help me with her!” Norman shouted. “Sam... you can still save my May.” His words were lost on deaf ears, the Professor already intent on the screen, explaining to Brock why he would explain his disappearance later.
That's it for this chapter. Hopefully the next one will be up (relatively) soon.
Yay, new chapter. I need to reread the story, though, cus I keep mixing the plots of this and May's Crush 2. Once I do that, I'll have more to say >.>
Very interesting. I'm wondering what happened to Bashou after he pushed Giovanni to the ground--he kinda disappeared after that. Burned up by the Flamethrower, should we assume?
One quibble--you say that the agents are both around Giovanni's height. But Bashou is a good six inches shorter than Buson, so even if Buson's that tall...yeah.
What a great reason for the squinted eyes! Another proof for your creativity!
I can't wait for next chapter! Your plots are too absorbing. What a superb chapter!
For one moment, I believe that Paul was able to control Tracey's Scyther. XD
So many questions have come up to my mind. Would Giovanni die? What would happen to Forrest? Would May die? Would Paul manage to kill May? Who was the big man. Was that big man Lt. Surge? But it doesn't make any sense since Rey didn't recognise him. I just can't wait to find out all the answers! I am really looking forward to your next chapter!
Last edited by Rhyperior; 2nd June 2008 at 03:30 AM.
He seemed to know forrest,so it could be an error.
Or rey was't paying attention.
I loved how this story elevolved from a anime conclusion to this.
Have I already said this is an extremely well written story, by a master writer? No?
Well, I just did!
Thanks for the entertainment!
I'm preempting the posting of your new chapter (which I've already read).
Seriously, your writing is addicting.
The next chapter has been posted on Fanfiction.net already? I'll be back with my opinion.
The writing was good. I really liked the part where you gave backstory on May and Drew in Johto. A few minor errors, like "He threatened your Delia..." but other than that, nothing much to criticize.