5th September 2011, 10:11 PM
Hi everybody, I just want to give some background to the story. Since a young age I have always wanted to have my own pokemon story to tell, but I can't draw so that ruled out doing it through comics and I can't sprite so that ruled out doing it through sprite comics. This leaves doing it through fan fiction. I have been writing this for the last month and a half and I feel it is time to share it with people.
This story is about a young runaway rebel from Kanto named Russell Blake. He stows away onboard a ship heading for Castillia City. Upon arrival he is taken in by Team Plasma, however without giving too much away, in time he ends up being caught in the midddle of one of the biggest scandals the pokemon world has ever seen.
Just a heads up that there will be mild violence which is what the PG-14 rating is for.
None yet, but fingers crossed
*Ding, Ding* rung the bicycle bell, and once more *ding, ding*, this time with a much greater sense of urgency. The bicycle headlight shone onto a wild Pidgey or perhaps even a Spearow? In the dark it is hard to make out the core details, at least that is what the boy on the bicycle thought. With a third ring of the bell, whatever pokemon it was finally got the message and in one graceful move is spun straight up into the air and became part of the chilling night sky. The boy was relieved he had avoided a near fatal collision, and even in a night so cold a sweat drop still trickled down his face.
The young bicycle boy had just celebrated his 10th birthday only hours ago, cake, bouncy castles, the works, but now wasn’t the time for fun and games, he was on a very important mission for none other than the world famous pokemon expert Proffesor Oak. He had ridden all the way to Viridian City to pick up a shipment of new pokemon for Oak. The young lad was leaned forward on his bike and pedalling rigorously. It was dark now and his mother would be worried, but that doesn’t matter as in his mind this job was more important, and besides, he is a big boy now and big boy’s can take care of themselves. Nothing could stop him, he was home free. He was so determined that he wasn’t allowing his mind to drift off for even a second. He didn’t worry about the rata-tat-tat of the Rattata’s, or the wibble wobble’s of the Weedle’s, all of whom were nearby in the bushes and could easily get in his way. All he worried about was getting the job done, and proving himself to both his peers and the adults.
If it wasn’t for the long and wavy blonde hair of his blowing in the boy’s face, he could almost make out the illuminated “Welcome to Pallet Town” sign. He could also perhaps not have toppled over from his bike onto the wet, dew covered grass. It was at this point that he should have been focusing on his injuries, or even better, the ever noisy rumbling in the bushes, but now, he immediately went to check on the condition of the bright orange bag that was holding Oak’s special shipment. Fortunately it was fine, however when the boy turned around two intimidating shadow’s stood over him.
“Bit late for a bike ride, isn’t it?” With that the shadows turned into people, real life, daunting looking people, one male and one female.
“Uh, who are you?” The boy asked, putting on the toughest voice he could.
“What’s your name kid?” The male asked, with a menacing tone.
“I’m Fredrick,” the boy carefully reached behind him to make sure the shipment was still okay.
“Well Fredrick, you chose the wrong night to go for a late night ride.”
The boy then took a jaw breaking blow to the face, the last thing he saw before passing out was a bright red letter R on his attackers clothing. The second person bent over to pick up the package the boy was supposed to deliver and peered curiously inside to see three undamaged pokeballs, “Operation Import, success,” she muttered under her breath.
Last edited by RubberChicken; 8th September 2011 at 3:37 AM.
8th September 2011, 3:35 AM
Chapter 1: Boxed In
Seasons, meaningful relationships, and sea breeze. These were all overrated things in the mind of Russell Blake. A bit of a trouble maker as a child, fourteen year old Russell had found himself sleeping behind poorly packed cargo boxes on what used to be the majestic S.S. Anne but was now merely a cargo ship run by an unofficial “Merchant Navy.” Always a petty thief, living in the poor side of Pallet Town, Russell found out that attempting to burn down Professor Oak’s lab was one crime too many, so, he bolted to Vermillion City before they could send him to a young offenders prison.
Right now Russell had more to worry about than his disliking of sea breeze; instead he was more worried about the taunting grey clouds that loomed above, the pounding of the waves at full force against the hull, and finally the forceful gust that was creeping up. The waves and the win were working in a coalition to destroy the boat, and the rocking was unbearable. The most worried however, were the cargo boxes that weren’t going to be able to stay perfectly stacked for much longer. Then a wave with the force of a hundred Wailord’s smashed into the boat, and it send the boxes flying. Before Russell could do anything they all came tumbling down on him in. His cries for help were useless, and the only thing he had was the hope of making it out alive.
Minutes that seemed like hours went by, many thoughts crossed Russell’s mind, including; “Well at least I’ll have a great story to tell at parties,” to “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!” There was a quiet pitter-patter that sounded like rain. It grew louder and louder as it got nearer and nearer. Russell assumed that this was the ship sinking as it filled up with water, but in fact it was not. A pop went through one of the boxes, Russell was trapped under and then he felt crawling on top of his face. It was a Rattata.
This Rattata was one of many that inhabited the run down S.S. Anne. This one was special, however, she and Russell has a deal that if she sneaked into the kitchen every night to swipe Russell some food, she could remain living in the box next to Russell. We all know who got the better end of the deal there now, don’t we? He also had a deal by now with the burly sailors that if he didn’t get in their way, they won’t get in his, however no one was going to go out of their way to rescue a stowaway, and knowing this left a cold, stale feeling in his stomach.
“You know, as much as I love having you for company, Ms. Rattata, I would much prefer it if you were to do something more useful. How about you go and get help?” Russell said, and Rattata immediately leaped off of Russell’s chest and started grinding away at the boxes trying to make a tunnel, as if she understood what Russell was saying.
Rattata was long gone now and Russell was once more alone with himself. His legs had gone numb from having numerous boxes pushing down at them, all a different and awkward angles. He was working up a very unpleasant sweat from both the fear and the rush of it all. His rugged and ripped black t-shirt was sticking to his back almost as if a strip of glue had been rolled onto it. He was in a discomforting predicament where he was too awake to sleep, but too tired to do anything.
For just a moment Russell closed his eyes and thought back to his younger days in Pallet Town and what had brought him to be in the situation he was in right now, and even the meaning of it all, but all of this philosophical thinking was interrupted by a chilling slime that slowly made its way across his forehead. Like a Caterpie crawling on top of him, or maybe even a Weedle judging by the shadowed outline of a horn on the creature’s head. It was dark but the two could sense each other’s stare before the Weedle slithered away into a hole that was the only light source for Russell.
Russell continued to stare down that hole, hoping desperately for the light to shine back through again, and it did, but only for a split second before and eye filled in the gap from where the light was coming through. This wasn’t just any old eye, however, it was a human eye.
“Don’t worry son, we’ll get you out of there!” A whiskery and raspy voice called out. He sense of relief stopped Russell from being able to respond, and he immediately felt he weight on his legs come off.
Over the next few minutes Russell would hear a grunt and then a box get lifted. The grunts didn’t sound human and every now and then he caught a glimpse of possibly a Machoke or even maybe a Marchamp walking back and forth, carrying one or two boxes.
With one of the last boxes lifted the sun shone across Russell’s weakened body. He rapidly closed his eyes and couldn’t bear to open them as it burned so strongly. This didn’t please the man standing above him.
“Get Up Bow!” He bellowed. Russell placed him elbow over his forehead and squinted as he reluctantly looked up at a man who was almost seven foot tall, with a long blue over coat and a surprisingly well kept beard given the circumstances of being out at sea for so long. His most interesting feature was the brightly coloured Chatot sitting on his shoulder to give him the slight pirate look.
“Who- Who are you?” Asked Russell, slightly frightened by this large man.
“You can call me the captain,” he replied, reaching out a helping hand.