PG-13 should be safe.
Anyway, this is my first piece of writing that I've posted in a while. So far, I've only written one-shots and this is no different. Well, it's a little different, but not much.
See, I've had this idea for a while now. It's a collection of one-shots devoted to each town in Kanto. Each chapter (they won't be connected like a chaptered fic, but for simplicity's sake, I'll just call each one-shot a chapter) will be named after the color of one of the cities. As an extra challenge to myself, the theme/mood/plot of the chapters will be based on the color. For instance, the Cerulean chapter (Blue) could be sad, since blue is obviously a pretty melancholy color. I don't think most of them will be that obvious, though (I don't plan on the Blue one being sad anyway).
(It turns out making the color of each one-shot match its title looks horrible.)
In regards to this chapter, I have to admit that it might not be my best work. I loved writing it and I love where it takes me when I read it, but I'm not sure how well some of the ideas in it translated to writing, especially for someone reading it for the first time. It's also kind of a fluff piece. However, if you don't like it, I would love for you to stick around, since I promise you won't be seeing the same thing twice (hopefully).
Uh, so yeah. A one-shot based in Pallet Town (although not actually within its borders):
“Help me, Barnabas!” shouted Willow Birdsong, desperation echoing throughout the plains. Her long legs were pinned under a fallen elm tree, forcing her to watch helplessly as an especially aggressive tauros, spurred by the black-cloaked man riding it barebacked, charged directly toward her squirming form. Its thundering hoofs pounded relentlessly, splitting fault lines, opening fresh craters, and drowning out Willow's shrieks of terror.
“You called!?” Not a second too early, Barnabas Bigsby leapt over the large tree trunk on the back of a silky white rapidash, landing directly in front of Willow and causing the tauros to screech to a halt. His rugged five o'clock shadow rippled around a confident grin as the woman cheered behind him.
“Well, well, well, if it isn't Barnabas Bigsby,” the man riding the tauros crowed, spittle flying from his lips with each overly-enunciated “B” sound. “How disappointing to see you survived the shipwreck. I didn't think your little pony there could swim.”
Rapidash's glistening muscles quivered underneath its trainer as it stomped the ground warily.
“I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, Piers,” Barnabas replied, always remaining casual.
“Yeah!” Willow quipped, woefully unpracticed in the art of banter.
Barnabas rolled his eyes and continued. “Anyway, I believe you owe me a battle,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “We didn't get to finish our death match on the deck of the St. Zebulon while it was sinking, burning, and exploding, all at the same time.”
“How right you are,” Piers mumbled, grinning maniacally. “I always repay my debts.”
“Charge!” Barnabas commanded his rapidash, sparking a similar order from Piers to his tauros. Immediately, the two were headed toward a dead collision with each other, each trainer daring the other to blink first.
Right before impact, a crack of lightning opened the sky, releasing a sudden downpour of rain.
“Agh!” Barnabas screamed, jerkily changing his Pokémon's direction so that they were running to the nearest tree. “Under here!”
Piers followed quickly. “I can't get this cape wet!” he cried in terror. “My mom's gonna kill me!”
“Wait up!” Willow kicked the tree off of her legs, sending it flying. “I knew I shouldn't have worn my good jigglypuff socks!”
Soon, all three were gathered under the same tree, dripping wet.
“Told you we should've played inside,” Piers said, his sinister tone replaced by the simple, somewhat feminine voice a young boy.
“Inside's boring,” Barnabas muttered, looking down at his wet clothes. What was moments ago a complicated mess of straps, buckles, and pockets was now just a soggy red T-shirt with a faded poké ball symbol on the front.
Both boys stepped off of their bicycles, forgetting about the fierce creatures they had been.
“I'd rather be bored than muddy!” Willow yelled, wringing out her curly blonde pigtails.
“Don't worry, Pete,” Barnabas said, addressing his arch-nemesis Piers. “We can just hang this up when it stops raining. Your mom'll never know.”
“I'm not lying to Mom!” the girl protested, earning a heavy punch to the shoulder from Peter.
“You will if you know what's good for you!” he bellowed. He then turned to Barnabas. “Sorry, Billy, my mom made me take her. She promised she'd be good.”
“Maybe next time we'll tape her mouth shut,” Billy snickered.
“I doubt there'll be a next time!” she declared, fuming when the two boys high-fived each other. “That's it!” She slipped off her shoes and socks and rolled up the legs of her overalls. “We're playing my game now.”
“We're not playing with your stupid dolls, Wendy.” Peter rolled his eyes, which resulted in a slap to the arm from his sister.
“I'm not talking about dolls, stupid,” she said, turning out towards the field, which was currently being washed in rain. She juggled ideas for a moment, finally settling. “There are lots of rattata out there, right? Well, nobody's afraid of them. But what you didn't know is that, when it rains, the mutant rattata come out of their nests to hunt anything not smart enough to hide. They're called... rattattacks.”
The boys raised their eyebrows, impressed. As Wendy spoke, foggy, dark shapes appeared in the distance, aggressively stalking through the grass.
“We're here to find out what caused them to mutate,” she continued, brushing her now silky blonde hair behind her ears and smoothing out her lab coat. “Call me Doctor Winona, the leading expert on pokémon mutations.” Her voice was a full octave deeper. “You two can be my assistants.”
“Benjamin Barracuda reporting,” Billy said dutifully, stepping to the doctor's side. He glanced at Peter, who appeared slightly more reluctant to bend to the girl's will. Finally, he sighed and threw his cape over a branch.
“Patrick Scott,” he said dryly. “Let's get out there and track down th-”
“I make the orders around here,” Winona snapped, hushing Patrick instantly. “Now let's get out there and track down some rattattacks.”
Braving the rain, the squad of scientists moved forward, feeling the gaze of every mutant rattattack daring them to let down their guard.
“They're very sneaky,” the woman whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the rain. “They'll pop up any- look out!” She shoved Patrick forcefully into the mud as a large, purple mess of muscles and veins leapt at him, dagger-like teeth bared. As soon as it landed, it was preparing for another attack, stopped only by a swift kick from Benjamin, which sent it squealing into the tall grass.
“Get your guns ready!” Winona screamed, whipping a pistol out of seemingly nowhere and pointing it warily at the grass. Patrick was yanked out of the mud by his fellow assistant and they both retrieved their own weapons.
“There!” Patrick yelled, blasting a bullet at a rustling bush. A shrill, pained squeak followed and the man smiled proudly. “Looks like I took first blood,” is what he would have said, all of the cockiness he could muster infecting every word, but he was unfortunately attacked by another furious rattattack. It clawed and bit, holding on despite Patrick's best efforts to push it off. The two fell to the ground together, scrambling in the splashing mud.
“Stay still!” Winona commanded, closing one eye to get the best aim should could in the pounding rain. She shakily pointed the barrel at the creature, twitching constantly as the man rolled around underneath its attacks. “I can't get a good shot!”
Gritting her teeth, she slowly applied pressure to the trigger.
“Hurry, Doctor!” Benjamin warned, firing several shots into the surrounding mist as countless mutants intruded on their location. “They're surrounding us!”
She screamed barbarically, finally squeezing the trigger. A bang louder than any before it silenced even the heavy static of the rain and vibrant red liquid rushed onto the ground, mixing with the mud. Slowly and awkwardly, Patrick pushed the dead rattattack off of him and climbed to his feet.
“Good work, Doctor,” he grunted with a hint of resentment, wiping some mud off of his arms.
“No time to talk!” She swung her pistol out towards the field, shooting a couple of rattattacks mid-air as they jumped. Patrick quickly took the hint and the three formed a triangle, all shooting outwards at the enclosing hoard of rattattacks.
“We're not gonna make it!” Benjamin's blood ran cold as the horrifying click of his gun signaled his lack of ammunition. Winona's soon followed, as did Patrick's.
“This is it!” The woman grabbed the hands of her assistants. “Just remember: we died in the pursuit of knowledge!” Content with her final words, she closed her eyes, prepared for the end.
Instead however, every single one of their attackers piled on Patrick. After a few seconds of swatting them and screaming, he silenced himself a split second after Winona pronounced him dead.
“Wait...” Benjamin mumbled, significantly calmer. “Why are they all attacking him?”
She thought for a moment. “They must attack creatures with low IQ's. Yes! That's why the only attack stupid rattata and P-”
“Shut up!” Patrick said, standing as if a group of insane rattattacks wasn't devouring his flesh.
“You're dead!” she protested. “You can't just stand up!”
“This game is stupid,” he said. “The last one was better. That's why we don't let you play with us.”
The rain had gradually began to slow and was now at a drizzle.
“I thought it was pretty fun,” Billy offered, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. “I'm kinda hungry, though. Let's head back to Pallet.”
“But I'm not ready to go home!” Wendy yelled. “I wanna keep playing.”
“Too bad,” Peter said. “You ruined our fun and now we have to back to town. Let's go.”
“I'll race ya!” Billy shouted, running to his bike. Peter ran after him, agreeing.
They both sped off, leaving the transportation-less girl behind with nothing to do but yell after them. Seeing it was doing no good, she stuck her bottom lip out and thought the worst things her mind was capable of about the two boys.
“I'll play by myself,” she murmured, seeing the black cape hanging in the old tree. She ran over, yanked it down, and draped it over her shoulders. The rain had now stopped completely, allowing a sliver of golden sunlight to lie across the field. She walked until she was in the middle of the sunny strip, grabbing the stick that had once been a tree pinning her to the ground. In an instant, it was a gleaming sword.
Meanwhile, pedaling as fast as he could muster, Peter glanced back and saw his sister swinging a stick wildly at nothing as his own cape blew carelessly on her back. He called to Billy and they both stopped and watched her for a few minutes.
“She's so dumb,” Peter said. “Like, what loser plays all by themselves?”
“Yeah,” Peter muttered, distracted. “Do you... do you think she's fighting off a pokémon...? Or is it another person?”
“Who cares?” Peter puffed, also unable to take his eyes off the apparently epic battle. “She's an idiot...”
“I think I'm gonna go check on her,” he replied, taking off slowly but gaining speed quickly. Peter let out an exaggerated groan but made sure not to let Billy beat him there.
Once close enough, the boys found out they had just intruded on the territory of the toughest bandit on all of Route 1 and that, if they wanted to keep their lives, they would have to prove themselves in a duel.
They, of course, obliged.