This was a random fanfiction I wrote. It's just a little short story, nothing special, really
~
Jack pulled up to a large, white mansion. He pulled out a peice of paper from the pocket on his white work shirt and examined the directions and address he'd written down. "414 Mulbury Drive" Yep, this was the place. With a confident smile, Jack folded the paper and placed it back into his pocket and then got out of his care. He grabbed a small tool box of supplies and hurried to the front door. He pushed the door bell after making sure his shirt was free of wrinkles and his shaggy, blonde hair was presentable. It was always good to give the client the best impression possible, especially when you were involved in a buisness that involved scouring their homes. It wa sbest to appear as trustworthy as possible.
"May I help you?" Mrs. Wiggens opened the door, looking at Jack over the tip of her pointed nose. She sniffed, adjusting her spectacles so that she appeared as if she were looking down at Jack, which wasn't hard to do considering that he was rather short for an eighteen year old.
"I'm here about your Kricketune problem," Jack said confidently.
"Oh yes, thank heavens! Come in, come in," Mrs. Wiggens motioned for Jack to follow her. Jack carried his tool box along as she showed him around. "The main problem is in the west wing." Mrs. Wiggens pulled out a key from her pocket and unlocked a door. She pushed it open, revealing a large, open hallway. Here, Jack could see Kricketune crawling all over the place. They were being really noisy and seemed to be having the time of their life as they nibbled on the decorative plants she had along the hallway. "I have a party tomorrow, so I'd appreciated it if you could kill all of the kircketune today, if possible."
"That won't be a problem, ma'am," Jack said, setting his tool box down. "It shouldn't take me more then an hour or so."
"That's good to hear. I'm going for tea next door with Mrs. White if you need me. I do thank you for ocming out here on such short notice. The Kricketune came out of nowhere. Please see that every last one is killed." With that, Mrs. Wiggens turned and left.
Jack opened his tool box and pulled out several pokeballs. "Time to get started. I choose you, Cleffa!" Jack released his main Pokemon. The little creature cooed softly as it looked up at him happily. "We've got some work to do."
"Cleffa!" The pokemon walked in front of him as he approached the first group of Kricketune.
"Sing!" Jack commanded, pulling out a pair of earplugs so that he wouldn't fall asleep himself. The small Pokemon opened it's mouth wide as it sang softly. It was enough to put all the Kricketune in the area to sleep. Jack threw pokeballs at them, catching them all. They continued in this manner until every last Kricketune was caught. Jack then went outside and released them, asking each Pokemon to never come back. They nodded, singing softly as they left. "It seems we did a good job," he congratulated his Cleffa, who danced about happily.
"What on earth are you doing?" Mrs. Wiggens asked, rushing up the hill to meet Jack.
"I took care of your bug problem. I told them to never come back." Jack smiled, then quickly frowned when he saw the harsh expression on Mrs. Wiggen's face.
"They'll only come back now!" She shouted, flustered.
"But I told them not to," Jack looked up at her, confused.
"You think those vermin will listen to you? That's why I wanted you to kill them, not release them into my backyard!" Mrs. Wiggens was furious, her face turning slowly red.
"But I thought..." Jack trailed off, his Cleffa hiding behind his leg.
"Yes, I'm sure you thought this move through. Now I want you to leave my house at once!" Mrs. Wiggens snapped, shooing him off her property. He got into his car, tossing the tool box into the passenger seat. His Cleffa sat in the back as he sped off. Jack drove for a bit before pulling off the road. He hadn't gotten paid for his hard work since Mrs. Wiggens was so certain that the Pokemon would come back. He sighed dejectedly as he looked at the fullmoon through his windshield.
"Cleffa?" his Pokemon crawled into the front seat, snuggling into his lap.
"Maybe next time, partner. She just doesn't understand that even Pokemon that are seen as pests have feelings. No one deserves death." Jack hugged his Cleffa, feeling slightly better. Even if he hadn't gotten paid, he had saved the lives of many Kricketune and that was worth more then all the cash Mrs. Wiggens could possibly have given him. With a smile on his face, he placed Cleffa back in the back seat and drove home.
Showing posts with label Pokemon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pokemon. Show all posts
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Sunday, May 29, 2005
The Castle Window 5/29/2005
I wrote this AGES ago. I think I meant for it to end up being a romance between Mewtwo and Gardevoir and then he gave her the strength to stand up to her owner or something. Ah well. I'll leave this here.
~
Raindrops began slowly at first, but began to come down faster. Lightening flashed a fair distance away so that it took a few seconds for the rumbling of thunder to be heard. Gwen sighed, she hated it when it rained, especially living in an old, Celtic castle. It was always so damp and cold on the interior. Gwen sat down and sighed as she moved away from the open window and sat down on her bed.
Gwen guessed that she should have felt lucky, not many pokemon had a room of their own. Gwen put a green arm to her white temples and began to massage them. It had been another long, boring day. She was a Gardevoir that had never been in a battle. She had just stayed in her room for as long as she could remember. Food was brought to her room and she was never allowed to leave as the door leading in to her room was always locked.
Gwen wasn't sure why the door was always locked, but she never questioned, she just figured it was the way things were meant to be. Gwen would have probably been able to open the door if she knew how to use her psychic powers. Then again, the only reason she knew that she even had powers was from one of the many books that were her only companions. How she was to use them she knew not.
Also according to these books, Gwen had once been a Ralts, and then had evolved into a Kirlia before reaching this form, but how and if this had occured was not known to her. All Gardevoir could ever remember was always being the way she was now and always being in this room. There was a picture on the wall across from her bed of a man that she assumed was her master. Come to think of it, she had never once seen her master.
Gwen sighed, by the look of the sky night would soon approach. Gwen walked over to her bed and pulled back the blankets so she could climb in underneath them. She grabbed a flower-shaped pillow and hugged it close to her. Her dreams were the only escape she had from this room, but if anyone knew she didn't like it here she wasn't so sure that would be taken well. One time, and the only time, she had questioned, she was told that she was her for safety, the world was dangerous, but she could not see how.
She then thought of how in one of the books it said that there were other creatures like her in the world beyond her room. She had only seen one other kind, a type of crow fly past her window. It said that there were close to 400 species, but so far she had only seen one other. Perhaps it was a fiction book, Gwen was quite familiar with the false stories contained in fiction. Then again if the book was true, then most species could only make noises or say their names. If this were true and Gwen ever managed to get outside, she wouldn't be able to understand them and they wouldn't be able to understand her since Gwen spoke the language of her masters.
The creatures mentioned were called pokemon. As far as she knew, she was more of a human then she could ever be a pokemon. And perhaps, she wasn't a pokemon even though she looked like one. Perhaps these questions would be answered in her dreams.
~~~
Gwen woke up to a song from a bird of some sort, maybe it was even a pokemon. That was one of the things Gwen enjoyed more then any other, music. She had no music in her, but she made a crude flute out of a log that had been brought in for her fire because of the dampness of the castle, catching a chill was easy. Gwen always wondered if it was all pokemon that caught colds, or just her. She could play her flute some, but she mainly only played it at night when no one could hear, or during festivals.
Gwen always loved festival times because the music below would drift up to her window and pervade the air in her room. Gwen could see that the cherry blossum trees were starting to bloom which meant that the cherry blossum festival couldn't be too far behind. Gwen always loved that particular festival since the spring breeze would drift up lazily to her room and filled it with the scents of cherry blossums and with the gentle warmth of spring. The festival music was always the best during the cherry blossum festival. A new song was introduced every year at this particular festival and Gwen couldn't wait to hear this years.
Judging from the growth of the blossums, the festival was only a day or two away, but that would take an eternity to pass. Gwen had read all the books in her bookshelf dozens of times each and could recite them all from memory so she really had no need to open them anymore. There were hardly any pictures and the ones that were in the books she could recall from memory. Gwen sometimes wished her master would buy her more books, but she knew that was impossible.
Gwen got up and paced the room that had been her home, her prison, since before she could remember. She knew every misplaced stitch in the only lavender rug in her room. She knew every wrinkle in her lavender and olive green striped bed spread. She knew every crack in the gray stone bricks that made up the walls of her room. She knew the location of every speck of dust. She knew the pattern of the wood that made up her vanity, book case, and bed. She knew the cold stone under her foot, every misplaced speck, every crack, every spot worn from her pacing.
This room was her world, she had no place in the outside world, this she knew. She had never had contact with another being, human or pokemon, except the person who brought her meals to her thrice a day. "Maybe," Gwen pondered, "there is no world beyond this castle. Perhaps the world isn't as big as I think. Perhaps nothing exsists past where I can see from my window." Gwen signed and sat on her bed. There was no clock in her room so she used the sun and the calls of differant birds to tell the time.
It was only noon, but Gwen felt like years had passed by. There was nothing she could do about her conditions, to think that there was anyplace beyond her room, her castle, was fools play. With one final sigh she sunk into the only place that she could be free, her dreams, once again.
~~~
It had been an entire year since he had witnessed the destruction of Giovanni. HE was now truely free, but he had no where to go. Mewtwo was a creation, not a real flesh and blood pokemon. For one he spoke human, but even beyond that, he had powers that surpassed other pokemon. They feared him and he did not blame them.
Everyday he searched to find a place to call home to no avail. There was no home for him, no place to call his own. Flying on he discovered a small alcove of cherry blossum trees. Mewtwo was ehausted from levitating across the plains three days on end with no rest. He landed and found a small stream nearby. Cupping his hands together he brought water to his mouth until his thrist was fulfilled.
Hungry, he looked for some kind of nourishment, luckily there were cherry trees mixed with the cherry blossum trees. Mewtwo ate his fill of these and settled down on the cool grass for a long sleep.
~
Raindrops began slowly at first, but began to come down faster. Lightening flashed a fair distance away so that it took a few seconds for the rumbling of thunder to be heard. Gwen sighed, she hated it when it rained, especially living in an old, Celtic castle. It was always so damp and cold on the interior. Gwen sat down and sighed as she moved away from the open window and sat down on her bed.
Gwen guessed that she should have felt lucky, not many pokemon had a room of their own. Gwen put a green arm to her white temples and began to massage them. It had been another long, boring day. She was a Gardevoir that had never been in a battle. She had just stayed in her room for as long as she could remember. Food was brought to her room and she was never allowed to leave as the door leading in to her room was always locked.
Gwen wasn't sure why the door was always locked, but she never questioned, she just figured it was the way things were meant to be. Gwen would have probably been able to open the door if she knew how to use her psychic powers. Then again, the only reason she knew that she even had powers was from one of the many books that were her only companions. How she was to use them she knew not.
Also according to these books, Gwen had once been a Ralts, and then had evolved into a Kirlia before reaching this form, but how and if this had occured was not known to her. All Gardevoir could ever remember was always being the way she was now and always being in this room. There was a picture on the wall across from her bed of a man that she assumed was her master. Come to think of it, she had never once seen her master.
Gwen sighed, by the look of the sky night would soon approach. Gwen walked over to her bed and pulled back the blankets so she could climb in underneath them. She grabbed a flower-shaped pillow and hugged it close to her. Her dreams were the only escape she had from this room, but if anyone knew she didn't like it here she wasn't so sure that would be taken well. One time, and the only time, she had questioned, she was told that she was her for safety, the world was dangerous, but she could not see how.
She then thought of how in one of the books it said that there were other creatures like her in the world beyond her room. She had only seen one other kind, a type of crow fly past her window. It said that there were close to 400 species, but so far she had only seen one other. Perhaps it was a fiction book, Gwen was quite familiar with the false stories contained in fiction. Then again if the book was true, then most species could only make noises or say their names. If this were true and Gwen ever managed to get outside, she wouldn't be able to understand them and they wouldn't be able to understand her since Gwen spoke the language of her masters.
The creatures mentioned were called pokemon. As far as she knew, she was more of a human then she could ever be a pokemon. And perhaps, she wasn't a pokemon even though she looked like one. Perhaps these questions would be answered in her dreams.
~~~
Gwen woke up to a song from a bird of some sort, maybe it was even a pokemon. That was one of the things Gwen enjoyed more then any other, music. She had no music in her, but she made a crude flute out of a log that had been brought in for her fire because of the dampness of the castle, catching a chill was easy. Gwen always wondered if it was all pokemon that caught colds, or just her. She could play her flute some, but she mainly only played it at night when no one could hear, or during festivals.
Gwen always loved festival times because the music below would drift up to her window and pervade the air in her room. Gwen could see that the cherry blossum trees were starting to bloom which meant that the cherry blossum festival couldn't be too far behind. Gwen always loved that particular festival since the spring breeze would drift up lazily to her room and filled it with the scents of cherry blossums and with the gentle warmth of spring. The festival music was always the best during the cherry blossum festival. A new song was introduced every year at this particular festival and Gwen couldn't wait to hear this years.
Judging from the growth of the blossums, the festival was only a day or two away, but that would take an eternity to pass. Gwen had read all the books in her bookshelf dozens of times each and could recite them all from memory so she really had no need to open them anymore. There were hardly any pictures and the ones that were in the books she could recall from memory. Gwen sometimes wished her master would buy her more books, but she knew that was impossible.
Gwen got up and paced the room that had been her home, her prison, since before she could remember. She knew every misplaced stitch in the only lavender rug in her room. She knew every wrinkle in her lavender and olive green striped bed spread. She knew every crack in the gray stone bricks that made up the walls of her room. She knew the location of every speck of dust. She knew the pattern of the wood that made up her vanity, book case, and bed. She knew the cold stone under her foot, every misplaced speck, every crack, every spot worn from her pacing.
This room was her world, she had no place in the outside world, this she knew. She had never had contact with another being, human or pokemon, except the person who brought her meals to her thrice a day. "Maybe," Gwen pondered, "there is no world beyond this castle. Perhaps the world isn't as big as I think. Perhaps nothing exsists past where I can see from my window." Gwen signed and sat on her bed. There was no clock in her room so she used the sun and the calls of differant birds to tell the time.
It was only noon, but Gwen felt like years had passed by. There was nothing she could do about her conditions, to think that there was anyplace beyond her room, her castle, was fools play. With one final sigh she sunk into the only place that she could be free, her dreams, once again.
~~~
It had been an entire year since he had witnessed the destruction of Giovanni. HE was now truely free, but he had no where to go. Mewtwo was a creation, not a real flesh and blood pokemon. For one he spoke human, but even beyond that, he had powers that surpassed other pokemon. They feared him and he did not blame them.
Everyday he searched to find a place to call home to no avail. There was no home for him, no place to call his own. Flying on he discovered a small alcove of cherry blossum trees. Mewtwo was ehausted from levitating across the plains three days on end with no rest. He landed and found a small stream nearby. Cupping his hands together he brought water to his mouth until his thrist was fulfilled.
Hungry, he looked for some kind of nourishment, luckily there were cherry trees mixed with the cherry blossum trees. Mewtwo ate his fill of these and settled down on the cool grass for a long sleep.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Tracey: 4-29-05
I don't know what I was trying to accomplish with this. I know one of my favorite things is to give characters backstory. I suppose that's what I was attempting with this. I don't care for this writing, based around Tracey from Pokemon, but it is something I cared enough about when I wrote to put it on a website.
~~
No one liked him, he was an outkast and no one in his grade wanted to play with him. Tracey sat in a corner, silently staring into space, tears trickling down his face.
"Keep your chin up dear." his older sister said, walking over to him. Tracey tried to quickly wipe away the tears so she wouldn't see.
"I don't understand, why am I differant?" Tracey looked up at her, sorrow in his eyes. "I wish mom and dad were still alive, then maybe I could fit in."
"Well," his siter began, "why would you want to? Being differant is what makes you special. Here, I got you something." she pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper.
Tracey eagerly ripped it open and discovered a special sketch book with a Marill embossed on the cover as well as a pack of pencils with differant types of bug pokemon on them. "Oh, thank you so much sis!" he hugged her tightly.
"Anytime," she smiled. "Now stand up, I want to take a picture of you to remember your happiness forever." she pulled out a disposable camera and took a picture of a blushing Tracey.
Two years later, she died.
Tracey just stood at the side of the coffin, emotionless. First his parents, and then his sister. Everyone he was close to had died. He was alone now and he couldn't bear it. He didn't care that the funeral was still in progress, he ran outside, his tie blowing over his shoulder and the wind blowing through his growing black hair.
He was still wearing his pink headband, his sister had given that to him when he had longer hair and it kept getting in his face. Tracey ran all the way to the lab at the center of Manderin Island. Inside he was greeted by Proffesor Ivy. "Hello Tracey, isn't your sister's funeral today?" she asked him.
"Yeah, but I can't stand everyone crying and everything, I'm sick of all of them." Tracey sat down on a bench, after knocking off the assorted socks and other misplaced items.
"Have some hot choclate, I just made some. It's unusually cold today." Professor Ivy poured him a cup and Tracey accepted it, taking a timid sip. Professor Ivy downed her first cup and got another. "Anything I can do for you today?"
"Well, I just turned ten, and I know that's the age you can get your first pokemon, I was wondering if I could get a pokemon today, you know, maybe it may help keep me company." Tracey sighed.
"Well, we don't have any starter pokemon in, but I'm sure we can find something for you. What would you like?" Professor Ivy set her cup down and put the pot of hot choclate back on the stove.
"Well, my sister was fond of bug pokemon, and I guess I've become so too. Maybe a Venonat." Tracey remembered that there was a Venonat on the pencils his sister had given him two years earlier.
"Luckily I know we have one. It's a foriegner, so it's colors are non-tropical. Someone abandened it who was visting from Kanto. I've been in a tizzy trying to figure out what to do with it." Prfessor Ivy adjusted her lab coat.
"That'd be so perfect, a Venonat of my own." Tracey smiled, but then quickly frowned as he remembered the reasoning for his wanting a pokemon.
Prfessor Ivy told him to wait while she went in the back. About fifteen minutes later, she came back with a pokeball. "There you go, inside is the Venonat. Poor creature, it will do him good to get off of the island. Are you going to go for badges now?" she asked him.
"No, I want to draw pokemon. Maybe Venonat can help me."
~~
No one liked him, he was an outkast and no one in his grade wanted to play with him. Tracey sat in a corner, silently staring into space, tears trickling down his face.
"Keep your chin up dear." his older sister said, walking over to him. Tracey tried to quickly wipe away the tears so she wouldn't see.
"I don't understand, why am I differant?" Tracey looked up at her, sorrow in his eyes. "I wish mom and dad were still alive, then maybe I could fit in."
"Well," his siter began, "why would you want to? Being differant is what makes you special. Here, I got you something." she pulled out a package wrapped in brown paper.
Tracey eagerly ripped it open and discovered a special sketch book with a Marill embossed on the cover as well as a pack of pencils with differant types of bug pokemon on them. "Oh, thank you so much sis!" he hugged her tightly.
"Anytime," she smiled. "Now stand up, I want to take a picture of you to remember your happiness forever." she pulled out a disposable camera and took a picture of a blushing Tracey.
Two years later, she died.
Tracey just stood at the side of the coffin, emotionless. First his parents, and then his sister. Everyone he was close to had died. He was alone now and he couldn't bear it. He didn't care that the funeral was still in progress, he ran outside, his tie blowing over his shoulder and the wind blowing through his growing black hair.
He was still wearing his pink headband, his sister had given that to him when he had longer hair and it kept getting in his face. Tracey ran all the way to the lab at the center of Manderin Island. Inside he was greeted by Proffesor Ivy. "Hello Tracey, isn't your sister's funeral today?" she asked him.
"Yeah, but I can't stand everyone crying and everything, I'm sick of all of them." Tracey sat down on a bench, after knocking off the assorted socks and other misplaced items.
"Have some hot choclate, I just made some. It's unusually cold today." Professor Ivy poured him a cup and Tracey accepted it, taking a timid sip. Professor Ivy downed her first cup and got another. "Anything I can do for you today?"
"Well, I just turned ten, and I know that's the age you can get your first pokemon, I was wondering if I could get a pokemon today, you know, maybe it may help keep me company." Tracey sighed.
"Well, we don't have any starter pokemon in, but I'm sure we can find something for you. What would you like?" Professor Ivy set her cup down and put the pot of hot choclate back on the stove.
"Well, my sister was fond of bug pokemon, and I guess I've become so too. Maybe a Venonat." Tracey remembered that there was a Venonat on the pencils his sister had given him two years earlier.
"Luckily I know we have one. It's a foriegner, so it's colors are non-tropical. Someone abandened it who was visting from Kanto. I've been in a tizzy trying to figure out what to do with it." Prfessor Ivy adjusted her lab coat.
"That'd be so perfect, a Venonat of my own." Tracey smiled, but then quickly frowned as he remembered the reasoning for his wanting a pokemon.
Prfessor Ivy told him to wait while she went in the back. About fifteen minutes later, she came back with a pokeball. "There you go, inside is the Venonat. Poor creature, it will do him good to get off of the island. Are you going to go for badges now?" she asked him.
"No, I want to draw pokemon. Maybe Venonat can help me."
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