Pokémon Uesuto episode 1 — A Curio, a City
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June 26th, 2010 (1:12 PM). Edited June 28th, 2010 by fissionessence.
Join Date: Jun 2010
A long time ago I came up with the world of 'Pokémon Uesuto' and I made about four pages of a comic and a bunch of ideas. Yesterday I decided to revisit Uesuto and try writing a short story. The 'big picture' idea would be to write a bunch of stories, where each one was an 'episode'. The series would follow the same main character, whom you will begin to meet below.
The most important thing to tell you about Uesuto is that—while it still is a world filled with Pokémon—it does not abide by the same laws that you've seen in the games, anime, and manga. I don't want to outline these differences, because I think they're more fun to discover as you read, but if you read something that doesn't make sense according to what you know about Pokémon, just remember that this is Uesuto, and things are different here. If you still don't understand something, feel free to ask and I'll try to answer
I've written the outline for the first episode, entitled 'A Curio, a City', and part one is below. I hope to write more of it soon!
A Curio, a City: part 1
The sun was in its final stages of setting; the clouds and horizon were silhouettes in front of the red-orange sky and burning yellow sun. It was almost night, but the boy riding the rapidash had managed to make it to the town; he wouldn't have to set up camp for another night. The old rickety wooden buildings he'd seen from a couple miles off were fully in view now. It wasn't a large town, but certainly not one of the smallest he'd traveled.
He whispered to his rapidash to slow from a gallop, and the white equestrian pokémon, with mane and tail of fire, came to a trot, and then walked.
"Well, well, boys," said a grimy man as he emerged from the shadows of a nearby building. The sunlight from the west cast a harsh darkness on anything it didn't touch, and the three men now appearing had used the black to their advantage.
They crowded before the boy on his pokémon.
"Look what we have here," the man continued. He tipped up his rugged hat and shifted in his dirty and torn clothes. "A little boy all on his lonesome and heading into town. Isn't it past your bed time, little boy?" The men laughed, and one of them coughed.
Too much smoking
, the boy imagined.
"You see, little boy—we was just on our way out of town, but then we seen a rider comin' in. So we figger, if'n you got yourself a mount 'kémon, you must have something worth us takin'." The men laughed again, but the speaker didn't. He stared, smirking, at the boy.
The boy stared back. Both the orange sunlight and brightness of his pokémon's flame flickered across his face and cast violent shadows across his youthful features. He wore a brown wide-brimmed fedora and a long leather coat of the same color. Long carnelian hair draped down from his hat and almost to his chin, covering parts of his face and furthering the harshness of the shadows.
"Come on, boss, he's just a kid," said one of the men who had been laughing. "We don't need to be stealin' from no kids, do we?"
The silence of the evening took over for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of a gentle breeze and soft piano notes from the town's saloon.
Then the lead man smiled. "If he's gonna travel on his lonesome like a grown man, don' he deserve to be treated like one?"
The other men smiled—a reluctant remnant from their previous laughter.
"I s'pose," the man said. He broke from the group, circled around the rapidash, and began poking at the boy's pack.
The boy made no movement but to stroke his pokémon's neck. The flames of its mane licked up around his hands, but they certainly did not burn him.
One of the other men approached their boss. He spoke softly, but did not whisper. "Boss . . . “ He looked up at the boy. "Look at his hair. Ain't heard or seen of no one having that color hair fer ten years, whereabouts. Since . . . well, you know."
The boss nodded as he too surveyed the boy. "Wha'd'ya say to that, little boy? That's a curious red hue you got on yer mop. Only people I know had that color hair was from Carmine City, an' they all been dead ten years."
"I was born with it," the boy replied flatly. The man scowled.
The man who had been poking through the boy's things had now reached under the rapidash to begin unstrapping the pack. The red-haired boy scratched behind the pokémon's ear softly, and the man shouted and recoiled, grasping at his hand, then took several of his fingers into his mouth.
"Darn 'kémon burned me!" he cursed.
"Now, boy," the boss interrupted, pushing his burned companion behind him. "We don' need to persuade you no more, do we? 'Cause one thing we know, it's persuadin'."
The boy stared back. "I appreciate the conversation," he said, "but you're blocking my path. I'd like to be on my way now."
The lead bandit grimaced. "Bark," he said firmly. "Growl." At that, two small, gray, dog pokémon emerged from the same shadows whence the men had come. One of them was barking repeatedly with a high-pitched but ferocious yip, and the other one growled a low, rolling rumble of a growl. The two poochyena moved deliberately but quickly onto either side of the boy and his mount, flanking them.
"I'm about fed up with you, boy. Now toss us your pack an' empty yer pockets so we can all be on our way."
The boy sighed. He threw one leg over his mount, slid off the side, and landed his boots in the dirt. He faced down one of the poochyena, staring it in the eyes. Its incessant barking slowed to but a yip every few seconds. The men all stood silent—even the boss. The boy's rapidash whinnied and tossed its head toward the growling bite pokémon, but otherwise stood still. The growling quieted.
Several bars from the saloon's piano song passed as they all awaited a first move. The boy rubbed his boot in the dirt, the gravel scraping under his foot.
A moment later, something burst from the ground beneath Growl, tackling the poochyena up through the air and sending it several yards away. For a second, the creature stood to regain its footing, then surged forward to tackle the gray pokémon again. The attacker was a two-foot mouse pokémon seemingly comprised of yellow bricks. The dirt clouded up in its wake as it charged the poochyena, and the bandits gasped at the suddenness of its arrival.
Bark, surprised by the assault on its companion, then lunged forward—claws in the air and mouth wide open—toward the boy. With a swift punch, the boy took the gray pokémon out of the air and sent it into the dirt. The creature yelped and rolled, then popped up onto its feet.
The boy glanced at the men, who had now moved several feet back, their mouths agape at the spectacle. He immediately turned back toward Bark, though, who was lunging for him again. The boy set himself into a fighting stance and planned his next strike on the poochyena, but just as he expected it to leap, it stopped in its tracks and kicked up a cloud of dust.
The boy tried to shield his face, but felt several grains of dirt scratch at his eyes. He ventured to blink one eye open, just soon enough to see Bark's open-mawed face as it tackled him, landing atop him and knocking the air out of his lungs.
"Someone get his pack!" shouted the lead robber. The man with the burned hand clutched it and backed away, scowling. The man looked to his other compatriots who gave similar looks of derision. The man's shoulders slumped, but he turned toward the rapidash and sprinted to it.
The fire horse pokémon reared up and whinnied, and the flames of its mane coiled around its body. The bandit cowered for a moment, but went to move forward again as the rapidash landed its hooves in the ground. But the rapidash huffed embers from its nostrils and glared at the man, lowering its head and menacing its long, sharp horn.
Bark barked again as it was tossed through the air and landed in a heap. The red-haired and brown-clad boy kicked to his feet, with only one more tear in is his coat and the bite mark on his neck only slightly bleeding.
The robber took one more look at the rapidash before him, then at the defeated pile of fur which was Bark, and finally over to a small cloud of dust, which cleared to reveal an unconscious Growl and a glaring sandshrew with an old scar across one eye.
Having thoroughly assessed the situation, the man turned to his friends, then to the horizon opposite the town, and began to run. The other men quickly followed suit, gathering up Bark and Growl as they ran in varying directions around the boy and his pokémon, then off together into the distance.
"What about the girl's pack?" One of their voices echoed back.
"Forget it," echoed back another voice. "We weren't paid enough for this."
"Blasted red-haired kid."
At the mention of a girl's pack, something else from the shadows caught the boy's attention. He walked to it and knelt down. It was a black cloth bag, but seemed to have no opening. Across it were sewn patches of hearts, eyes, baubles, sweets, and one of a small bird pokémon the boy recognized as a natu. The most telling feature, though, was a rectangular patch which had the name 'Tirella Dye'romen' sewn into it with black thread.
The boy picked up the pack and took its strap over his shoulder. He walked back over to where the dust had now settled completely and his sandshrew stood, patiently awaiting instruction. The boy knelt down to it and patted its sand-brick head.
"Thank you, Aarod," the boy said. "Return underground if you like, and follow me from there."
The sandshrew dove into the dirt, digging and disappearing underground.
As the boy looked up to stand, the last rays of sunset reflected off what seemed to be a pair of eyes from beyond some distant bushes. But as he stood, the eyes seemed to blink away, and no trace of eyes—nor anyone to whom they may have belonged—remained.
The boy squinted in slight irritation, but did not dwell.
He patted the rapidash on the muzzle. "Fine work, Magaera," he smiled. She nickered a thanks and shook her head happily. "That's my girl," he said, and kissed her neck.
The red-haired boy mounted Magaera, and they trotted softly into town.
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