[Pokémon] Eyes of the Storm [Rated T]

Summary: Ian, like so many other boys his age, yearns to escape his sheltered life and go on his own pokemon adventure. However, the wilds are dangerous, and Ian has no partner to protect him. When he stumbles upon two vicious feuding families of pokemon, he will not escape unscathed...

Original character set in original region. Cannon pokemon. Inspired by game mechanics and the manga. Darker themes.

WARNINGS/RATED T FOR: Blood, minor gore, violence, and some strong language

A/N: This is actually my first attempt at fanfiction, though I've been rping for years. Eyes of the Storm is also being posted over on my Fanfiction.net account FoggyFrog if you'd like to read it there instead of here. I've taken some of the critiques I've gotten there into consideration when posting here though, so there may be slight differences in the chapters but nothing drastic. My wonderful beta for all these chapters is FirebirdXoX on Fanfiction.net.



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Chapter 1: Calm Before the Storm

Blue eyes stared up blankly at the ceiling, the teenager attached to them lying calmly on his bed with hands folded and ears alert. Already dressed in a gray and white striped sweater, collared shirt, and black jeans, there wasn't really any reason for him to be lying around doing nothing in his room. He was waiting.

Somewhere from downstairs there was the muffled sound of a door closing and then a few seconds later, a car's engine. He sat up straight. After a few long moments of silence, he scrambled off the bed and reached beneath it.

Ian knew this was something he couldn't come back from. He had never disobeyed his parents before, at least not to this extent. Despite having heard both of them leave, he still opened his bedroom door and listened for several seconds, confirming that he heard no sound of either his mother or father downstairs. He didn't want to sneak around and make the final step away while they were in the house. Somehow that was crueler, and Ian wanted to spare them the guilt of having him slip out while he was right under their noses. They had enough guilt when it came to him already.

Ian dragged out the hiking backpack from beneath the bed. He trailed his hands over each strap, each buckle, and each zipper carefully: mapping them. Inside was the money he had saved, the pokeballs he had paid for classmates to smuggle to him. It was everything he could ever need on his journey.

Save for a partner.

But you needed a trainer's license to get a pokemon if you were under age, and you needed a parent's signature for that. Pet pokemon were weak and extremely expensive, it would've taken Ian another year to gather enough money for that. He just couldn't wait that long, not when he was so close.

Ian opened each pocket, and methodically checked each and every item, making sure to touch and hold every one and place it back securely. His inspection done, he closed everything back up and slipped it onto his back. He half expected for his currently absent parents to come out of nowhere and call out for him to stop, but he was uninterrupted as he ran down the stairs and then picked his way carefully to the front door.

He paused just long enough to grab the device hanging by the door, a series of plastic tubes all connected by an elastic band and folded neatly together. With a flick of Ian's wrist the plastic locked together firmly, into it's full tapered shape. He would need his cane if he was going to really do this. He couldn't memorize the entire world like he had the inside of his house now could he?

After all, he was blind...

Ian smiled softly as he stepped into the sun, the light blotchy scarring around his eyes making them crinkle and making. him seem older than just his fifteen years.

"Going for a walk Ian?" the cheerful voice of his neighbor Maggie startled him and snapped him out of his thoughts. Her little spastic growlithe yapped angrily at Ian, and Ian smiled at the woman, brushing the dark black bangs that hung nearly in his eyes away for a moment. The rest of his hair was quite short and neat, his clothes equally neat. Ian was sure he did not look like he was about to run away from home.

"You could say that yes…" Ian said, remaining calm despite the jitters in his stomach.

"Did you hear they opened the road in the grassland back up to trainers? The pokerus outbreak has died down enough, should be getting more people around town again now that trainers can travel!' Maggie said cheerfully, nodding her head, perky brown bun bobbing.

"Yes, your store will be getting more business again congratulations," Ian said, ever polite. He could feel his fingers twitch around his cane. He heard no suspicion or accusation in Maggie's voice, but Ian was acutely aware of his shortcomings in reading people.

"Well thank you! I gotta be going now before Skip gets antsy," Maggie said, her growlithe pulling impatiently at his leash. She began striding away, as Ian spoke.

"Alright, see you later. Tell my parents I love them…"

Maggie paused, brows furrowing a moment as she looked back at the blind boy, standing calmly on his porch, pack on his back, and calm like the wind before a storm.

"Okay… I will. You be careful now," she said uncertainly.

Ian nodded, "I will." With a nod Ian stepped onto the sidewalk, cane swishing side to side along the ground. The the edge of the grasslands were just a half hour walk towards the boarder of town, if Ian kept a brisk pace, he could reach them even sooner.

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Chapter 2: Blood on the Air


The orange sun hung close to the mountainous horizon, the clouds around it bright pinks and yellows. The landscape was painted with the fading oranges and purples of dusk, the grass glinting with yellow light as it waved, almost creating a sparkling effect across the vast grasslands outside his hometown. It was a beautiful sunset and beautiful dusk; it was quite the pity that the only human for miles that would've been able to appreciate it was blind.

Ian made his way slowly through the grasses, unaware of the beauty of the setting sun. The only concept he had of the time was the coolness on the air around him and the aching in his muscles from walking all day. He had gone out into the grasslands expecting there to be an overabundance of Pokémon, and among them would be one he could catch and call his own. Of course, with the recent pokerus outbreak and the large trainer involvement to bring down the infected numbers, the grassland Pokémon had become wary both of each other and humans. Wild pokemon tended to stay away from the road in general and Ian would've felt like he had been traveling in a desert wasteland if it had not been for the grass tangling and hindering his cane whenever he accidentally wandered too close to the edge of the little dirt road. He had heard a few pidgey but with nothing to battle them or keep them where they were, they had flown away at the first sign of his approach. He couldn't exactly chase after them and risk losing his way in the huge expanse of grasses.

Perhaps leaving without obtaining a Pokémon first had been a bad idea. Ian wasn't sure how to catch a Pokémon when he had none of his own, as all of the Pokémon guides he had read assumed you had a Pokémon of your own to battle the wild one. Ian was tired, his feet hurt from walking, and his arm was equally sore from pushing and fighting his cane through the thick grass. The backpack that he thought he had packed so economically and light felt like it weighed a ton after the hours of walking. Ian had been expecting this, but expecting it and doing it were two different things. He figured he'd maybe call it a day soon and camp for the night.

Ian was so focused on his thoughts that he didn't hear the sounds of distant hooves pounding against the dirt until they were nearly upon him. To be fair, the faint thudding of the hooves on earth had become furiously close in a matter of seconds.

That excuse didn't help Ian when the rapidash let a sharp scream of rage and reared at him, brandishing its sharp hooves menacingly. Startled, Ian raised his arms above his head defensively and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. The flaming unicorn screamed harshly. Its mane was fiercely ablaze, Ian barely able to stand the heat at his short distance away, and white rimmed its dark, yet burning pupils. Its teeth were bared and it lashed out with its dark hooves.

Ian startled and flinched back from the sound, expecting some attack to follow, but none came, and instead he heard a startled "Dash!" from the horse and a heavy thud a few feet away from him. Slowly he lowered his arms, trying to figure out what had happened. He could hear the Pokémon's labored breathing close to the ground. It had fallen.

Slowly Ian lifted himself up and onto his knees, and then slowly began crawling towards the rapidash. The heat from the beast washed over his face as he inched closer to where it had fallen. In its agitated state the rapidash caught a few blades of grass on fire and the smoke irritated Ian's useless eyes so he closed them, before they started watering too badly. He could hear the rapidash begin to struggle on the ground as he neared, so he slowly set his cane down on the ground and made soothing sounds.

"Shhhh, shhh there, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to give you a hand, and check you out… I can't really do that with my eyes you see," Ian gave a smile that he hoped was kind and inviting, although he never was that good at figuring out the subtleties of his expressions. The rapidash gave no indication that it had heard or understood, and it struggled for a few more moments before suddenly coming to rest. Ian could hear its hooves hit the ground and felt a sudden comparative coolness as its fire dimmed down.

The rapidash's labored breathing quickened a bit as Ian inched closer and if he could see he would've noted its fiery eyes were following him as he came closer. Ian ended up sliding between its front and back legs, kneeling by its chest. If the horse decided to kick him now he would be trapped between its legs. Luckily it didn't struggle anymore, whether it was through trust or exhaustion wasn't clear, but either way Ian was safe for the time being.

Ian slowly and gently lowered his hands until they lightly touched the unicorn's side. He almost immediately recoiled from the touch. The horse gave a sharp snort of surprise.

His hands had come back covered in blood.

Ian shuddered slightly and collected himself, forcing the sudden nauseous fluttering in his stomach back down into stillness. He should've smelled the iron sooner, and it was definitely disturbing to feel that unmistakable, slick-but-sticky feeling coating his entire hands. The shock of feeling blood slowly drained from Ian's system and he wiped his hands on the grass around him. The Pokémon must be seriously injured to have that much blood coating it, perhaps he could help. He didn't have any potions or berries on him, but he did have a small first aid kit in his pack. It wasn't big and it was supposed to be for humans, but it couldn't hurt and it might help if the horse wasn't too injured. Slowly he placed his hands back down on the horse's side, not wincing when they were immediately covered in blood again, and began softly probing for the source of the rapidash's layers of blood.

If Ian could see he wouldn't have needed to probe for wounds to have given up all hope on the horse. A pool of its own blood was beginning to form, even with the dirt beneath it soaking some of it up. Its body was riddled with deep bite and scratch wounds, one perilously close to its neck bleeding an exceptional amount. Hardly any of its once white fur was left un-dyed by the crimson tide. It had fallen over because its back legs gave out when it had been preparing its frantic stomp attack on Ian. As he ran his hands softly over the horse's hindquarters Ian was stunned that it had even managed to charge at him, let alone rear up on its legs. The back legs had received the worst of the damage, chewed practically to shreds. Whatever the unfortunate beast had been battling hadn't wanted it to get away… these wounds were brutal. Ian kept his breathing calm and even, kept his head still and emotions calm. He had long ago learned that panicking when one didn't have enough information rarely ended well, to stay relaxed to keep functioning in difficult situations.

Ian had run his hands very softly down one leg and then moved on to the other concerned. The rapidash put up no fight, apparently too drained from the blood loss to put up even weak protest. Ian's fingers met with something hard, he trailed his hand down a bit more before realizing what it was he had brushed his hands over. Ian felt a lurch in his stomach; he had just touched the rapidash's bone.

"Eurrrgh." Ian felt a wave of queasiness roll through him, and suddenly the smell of blood coming from the horse stood out as clear as day and he had to get away from it. He stood up swiftly but shakily and stumbled away from the horse. He bent down and rubbed his hands frantically on the grass again, trying as hard as he could to get the crimson blood off of them. His cool demeanor shattered, or at least cracked a bit, Ian turned back towards the horned brute. There was a pokeball in his hand.

"Listen, I don't know any other way to help you like you are. You're really injured and you can't-"

Ian was cut off by a terrific clap of thunder that rocketed through the landscape like a physical force. Ian was startled but it acted like an electric shock to the prone rapidash on the ground. It began shrieking and struggling on the ground frantically. It had been breathing weakly before but some new strength surged through it and it gasped mightily before somehow managing to surge to its feet. Despite its broken leg, it managed to begin running (limping) away and even with its wounds it moved faster than blind Ian blundering through the grasses after it.

"Darn it," Ian suppressed the urge to curse as the wounded creature's hoof beats ever so slowly rang fainter and fainter in his ears. The rustling of the grass helped muddle them but Ian began to realize he didn't need any guidance to follow the horse.

It was heading for the lightning strike.

Ian silently prayed the rapidash wouldn't faint before he reached it to help as he abandoned using his cane to chase his way through the grasses.

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Chapter 3: Lightning Strikes


Ian felt like he had been running much longer than he had expected to and tried not to think about how he had just sprinted off the beaten trail with only a mental flag on which direction he had gone to guide him back. They were almost always reliable, but still….

By the time Ian heard the sounds of clear activity ahead, he was breathing heavily and his cheeks were flushed. He wasn't unfit for his age or size, but the weight of his backpack tugged at him and the additional energy afforded him by the brief adrenaline rush was nearly spent. He bent down to catch his breath, and as he sucked in air the smell of scorched earth assaulted his nose; the faint, more unpleasant, scent of burning fur or hair lingering beneath it. Ian wrinkled his nose up a bit at the smell, but as he brought his mind back into focus he became far more intent on trying to figure out the scene he was hearing before him.

There was a large circle of smoldering grass where the lightning had struck, a few tenacious little streaks of grass still abalaze. Ian had ended up on top of one of the grassland's gentle, sloping, hills, and below him lay a large area where the grass had been flattened and trampled to form a vaguely circular arena bordered by the taller grasses. In it stood several pokemon, clearly separated both by sight and sound into two distinct sides.

On one side, a grizzled looking raticate crouched with fangs bared, ready to leap into action. Its fur hung off it in ragged patches, exposing various wounds, large in number but rather shallow looking. Around the raticate several electrikes lay in the dust gently moaning, only identifiable to Ian because a few of them happened to moan their name out, as many pokemon did. The smell of burning fur could be attributed to the raticate, as it had apparently barely dodged being hit by the deadly lightning that had scorched the earth around it, and its left side was charred a darkened brown. The rapidash lay behind it, not collapsed on his side like he'd been before, but legs curled under it. The flames along its body were small and weak, but it managed to hold its head up defiantly and glare.

Across from the two were their three opponents: a manectric, and two ragged looking electrikes. The manectric sat calmly, returning the heated gazes of the raticate and rapidash. Its companions paced restlessly around the manectric, a slight worry spoiling their otherwise fierce and battle ready expressions. The manectric had no such expression on its face, but didn't need one to be intimidating.

Its fur was matted with blood everywhere possible, its blue and yellow fur sticking up at odd angles from the dried bits. Its face was completely concealed by the gore and where it had dried around its mouth it was so thick it had begun layering and clumping. This gave the manectric the appearance of sores and old scabs covering its face where none existed. A few blue flecks of fur showed up where pink foam and drool from its mouth dripped off its face. Its legs were covered in a similar fashion close to its claws, but its actual claws and teeth were sharp and free of any dirt or blood congealing upon them. Somehow, its most disturbing feature remained its eyes. It must've had a shiny ancestor, as its eyes were blue, if one could call it blue. They were so pale as to be almost white, leaving its pupils to stand alone like two dark scars. The manectric seemed casual, relaxed even, but it eyes held a burning brightness that made any expression uncomfortable to look at. The fire behind its cold eyes was disturbingly turbulent rather than warming. It gave a lopsided and somehow malicious grin as it stared at the raticate; the raticate staring right back, its own eyes blazing with a determined fire.

The standoff lasted for several long, stretched out seconds as Ian desperately scrabbled for sensory info, seeming only capable of realizing the wrongness of the situation before him. The manectric suddenly gave two sharp, succinct barks. The two electrikes next to it flinched, but immediately dashed off in opposite directions towards the taller, untrampled grasses. The raticate gave a desperate shriek and took one step towards the closest one, snarling. The green hound took a quick glance back at the furious rat. At the sight of the snarling, blood streaked face pulled back into a snarl, the electrike shivered and faltered, realizing it was the blood of his incapacitated comrades decorating her fangs. He paused, glanced back at what could only be his leader, and then continued into the grasses at a much slower, cautious pace with his tail between his legs.

Meanwhile, the face off between the manectric and the raticate and rapidash continued. The wounded rapidash struggled to its feet, refusing to break its furious eye contact with the hellhound before him. Its mane suddenly blazed larger as it found its footing and stood up, teeth bared in a very unhorse like fashion. The fire burning across its body began to twist and swirl, and slowly, flames twisted away from their source and began to twirl and spin across the rapidash's entire body.

It took a weak step forward, stumbled, and nearly collapsed again. He regained his footing and took another few stumbling steps, slowly gaining speed. His momentum carried him forward as he charged towards the manectric, the fire twisting about him until he more closely resembled a horizontal tornado of fire led by his horn than a beast of flesh and blood.

The manectric watched this with insane calm, a vicious smile spreading on its face and delight dancing in its crazed eyes. As the rapidash raged towards the yellow and blue monster, the manectric's mouth parted in glee as it crouched down low as if to brace itself for the impact.

There was no impact. The moment before the rapidash hit, the manectric jumped nimbly to the side and the rapidash's frenzied, fiery, tackle met with nothing. Its momentum too much and muscles too weak from blood-loss, the unicorn toppled head over heals, and it skidded to a stop in the disturbed dirt. Its flames quickly sputtered away. Perhaps the mighty stallion would've normally overun the manectric before it could blink, but it had been too weak and slow from its injuries. The manectric had waited for the attack without any worry and now nimbly landed as the horse lay wheezing in the dirt.

The fiery tackle had been a last ditch effort by the stallion, all its rage and energy pulled into one last attack, and now its legs worked weakly and uselessly against the ground, pawing at the grass as it struggled to get up again. The manectric smirked as it shuddered on the ground, helpless. The maddened hound paced around the fallen body, its blue eyes gleaming. The raticate had been staring, stunned at the rapidash's failed attack, but suddenly her eyes flicked to the scorch mark on the ground and then back to the manectric, eyes widening.

Ian had only been following the battle by ear, and was struggling to follow along. This was different than the battles on TV, but he was keeping track of the hits, and quickly and efficiently sorting cries into anger and pain and aggression and drawing his internal map. He was confused for a moment by the sudden lull, until he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and realized what the raticate had as soon as the electric hound began laughing. It was an eerie sound, disturbingly close to a human laugh, but at the same time entirely inhuman as well. The surprisingly high pitched cackle from the hound turned into a sadistic snarl, and Ian's hands dashed to cover his ears just as the raticate let out a despairing wail and tried to charge the manectric.

Too late, lighting streaked down from the sky, splitting the air with its pure fury.

Ian had managed to cover his ears before the otherwise deafening thunderclap reached him. It didn't do all that much good, the thunder still ringing strong in his ears and the shockwave very nearly toppling him over. His heart lurched with the mighty pulse and was sent racing, leaving him breathless. He blinked, for once grateful for his blindness as he did not have to see the lightning flash at such a painful range, but was still disoriented for several seconds.

When Ian uncovered his ears, the sounds of a vicious battle raging between the raticate and manectric met his ears. There was thumps, scrapes and shrieks as the two engaged, Ian only able to discern which sounds went to which pokemon because the raticate sounded furious while the manectric sounded like... well it sounded like it was having fun.

Ian finally came to the realization that he was standing a mere 250 feet away from a battle between two very dangerous pokemon, and that he was extremely lucky that they were ignoring him. Usually humans were viewed as a common enemy between wild pokemon. It gave him time to ask why? Why were they so hell bent on each other's destruction?


Why were the raticate and rapidash fighting so vehemently? If it had been a single, weaker opponent Ian would've understood defending one's territory or ridding the grassland of a menace, but the manectric was extremely strong, and had a pack to back it up. Ian faced the sudden certainty that the rapidash had received its grievous wounds fighting off other electrikes that belonged to the manectric preemptively. Why would it willingly seek out conflict? And why didn't it simply run away when things got out of hand, the raticate too for that matter! Both raticate and rapidash were known for their uncanny ability to escape battles at a moments notice if they so wished, to the bane of trainers everywhere, so why stand and fight?

The manectric was clearly either insane or maddened by the pokerus, but it showed a disturbing intelligence Ian had not learned to associate with infected pokemon based on the news reports he had watched. The electrikes were a mystery to Ian in their part in all this, other than they had distributed themselves into the grasses… shoot!

One of the electrike that had been sent away suddenly burst out from the top of the grass, leaping into an attack and snarling and baring its fangs in the air. Ian instinctively whipped his cane up in retaliation, the hound so close he thought it was attacking him. He leapt back, ditching his backpack in an instant to keep his dexterity in case he needed to run and cane coming up defensively. Before his feet had hit the ground he heard both the panicked cries of several young rattata, Ian taking in all of it in a flash. Ian's cane whistled emptily through the air, as a tan blur streaked out of the grass and landed a heavy blow to the underside of the dog's jaw, smashing it closed. The electrike's eyes rolled back and the electric hound fell to the ground with a sharp whimper. It didn't get up again.

The rattata turned to face Ian, its red eyes blazing, as it faced off against the human. He bared his teeth at Ian and protectively crouched in front of the small nest of dirt and grass that contained three smaller, younger looking rattata who quivered in fear. If Ian could see, he would've noted that the rattata was not purple like his siblings, but tan like his mother, and was battle scarred in his own right, two whiskers unusually sticking out of one cheek and only one gracing the other, a nasty dark scar running up his face where the second was supposed to be. But Ian did not notice this, merely the enraged defensive shriek of the rattata's call.

Ian panted, adrenaline rushing through his system. The rattata didn't give the boy a chance to rest, as he hopped forward and bit viciously at Ian's shoes. Ian stumbled backwards with a yelp. "Calm down I won't hurt y-" Suddenly it hit him. Young rattata in a vulnerable group, a raticate and rapidash standing ground they should by all rights be abandoning.- they were defending their family. As improbable as crossbreeding was in the wild, it had been proven in captivity to be possible so-

Ian's thoughts were interrupted when his sensitive ears picked up on the rustling of grass, slightly out of rhythm with the wind that swept the grasslands. There had been two electrikes sent into the grass! The second one leaped before the defending rattata could react. It looked like it was going to succeed for a split second, but Ian had begun moving on its sound not its attack. Ian had never once played baseball, but his instincts automatically set up his body in batting posture, his cane momentarily jerking backwards before following through in a smooth arc.

There was a dull thud as the cane made contact with the broad side of the electrike. It was thin and flexible, but that made it almost whip-like and the electrike yelped as it made contact. With a cry it hit the ground and streaked into the grasses, startled and wounded by the unexpected attack. The defending rattata was also surprised. He had been prepared to engage or drive away the human the whole time. After all, everyone knew humans were evil and would attack without provocation. Ian panted heavily, having been caught up the rush of the instinctual attack. He blinked and then came very close to looking directly at the tan rattata with his blue eyes.

"What?" he asked. The rattata stared at him dumbfounded. The two sized each other up in an uneasy silence, the babies squeaking restlessly as their mother battled and their sibling glared at the human.

An enraged howl streaked through the air as the manectric glanced up from the battle, temporarily pinning the raticate with its paw and staring right at Ian and the rattata. Both Ian and the tan rattata snapped to attention, its mere stare raising hairs on the backs of their necks. The nest was well hidden, there was no way it could see the rattatas but somehow the manectric's eyes fell to the grasses. It looked right at the children, its face twisted with hate as its prey avoided the pack's attack. It lifted its head and howled. Faintly, Ian heard a few respondent howls in the distance.

"Shoot!" Ian knew what those sounds meant. The raticate and rattata could not make a stand against more enemies Ian decided, even now hearing the tussle between the beast and the rodent becoming more and more one-sided in the manectric's favor. If the baby rattata wanted to survive, they had to run, now.

"C'mon! You have to run!" Ian frantically addressed the young rodents, waving them on in the opposite direction that he had heard the howls come from. This was irrational, stupid, directing and talking to wild pokemon, but Ian didn't give a single care at the moment. The tan rattata glanced over at his mother, obviously wishing to join her in the fight but also obviously determined to protect his siblings as well. He glanced back at Ian, taking in the tense and anxious expression angled somewhere to the side of the nest and then gave a sharp, "Ta!"

His siblings obviously knew the order well and they immediately evacuated the nest and started running in the direction of Ian's beckoning. Their brother-turned-protector paused, glared at Ian accusingly, and then followed them. Ian turned and ran a second later, wishing there was some way he could help the raticate as well but resigning himself to looking after the children instead. He wouldn't leave them in this situation if he could help it. The smaller rat pups of the litter clumsily threw themselves through the grasses, grunting and squeaking enough for Ian to follow well enough on his own. Ian gripped his cane like a sword, not thinking about what he was doing.

They had been running for what seemed like a long time, when the distant sounds of barking and a furious howl that could only be the manectric's sounded. Ian was panting and the babies crying softly as they ran, with the tan rattata keeping pace silently, and apparently easily, next to the group. The chase had started. Ian knew the head start wouldn't last long, the babies were tiring and so was he for that matter. The taller grasses had given way to the shorter, hardier grasses and Ian was sure the dogs could see him for miles.

We need to stop and find a hiding place... Ian silently thought, and prayed that there would be such an opportunity on the wild plains.

The forces that be and dumb luck answered his call, as Ian felt the earth give way abruptly beneath him and the startled rats. They fell…

Ave! Allow me to welcome you to the FF&W forum, since this is your first foray into fanfiction, and express my sincere hopes that you'll enjoy your time here. We of the writing community here are a friendly bunch, as long as you neither get us wet nor feed us after midnight.

Anyway, pointless jokes aside, it's time to get down to the business of the review. First off, I'd like to talk about the concept, mostly with admiration. I don't claim to be particularly widely-read in terms of fanfiction, but I haven't seen a blind Trainer yet, and I'm looking forward to the opportunities that opens up: the interesting style that that necessitates, the completely different descriptions, the way the entire world is shifted slightly to one side to accommodate an alien viewpoint. However, I have a few reservations about the way that's carried out. As it stands, it almost feels like Ian being blind is a secondary component in the story, because it's as rich in visual description as if it were about a fully sighted character instead. There are parts where this trend is reversed, like this:

The Pokémon must be seriously injured to have that much blood coating it

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or this:

Ian's fingers met with something hard, he trailed his hand down a bit more before realizing what it was he had brushed his hands over. Ian felt a lurch in his stomach; he had just touched the rapidash's bone.

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and moments like these are actually much stronger than any of the more visually-oriented passages. It's exciting and it's different to see through Ian's eyes, to use a potentially problematic metaphor, and I think the difference between this being a good story - which it undoubtedly is - and a great one would be making greater use of the fantastic resource you've given yourself in a blind protagonist. It'd be wonderful to see it come to the fore a little - for instance, if we didn't already know the Rattata was shiny, it would have a powerful impact on the reader indeed to learn that it was so several chapters later, perhaps, when someone sighted mentions it. 'All that time, and we never knew...' they would think. And suchlike.

OK, I'm getting a little carried away now, and I don't want to get too preachy, so I'll draw a line under that point and move on to my second overall point, which is a short one but which, knowing myself and my fondness for the sight of my own prose, I'll probably extend into some vast and rambling epic that meanders between legitimate literary criticism and something like Beowulf.

The first couple of chapters don't really feel like full chapters, to be honest; they're really very short, especially compared to the third, which actually is of a length and consistency that leaves the reader feeling they've actually read a decent-length, partially-self-contained chunk of the story, as a chapter usually is. All right, so some stories have very short chapters, but not usually at the start; at the beginning, I feel it's important to get the ball rolling a bit more than you do. While the first chapter has its own impact for its own reasons (more of that anon), the second chapter feels like it could be merged with the third, to be honest, and not lose anything at all.

I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say any more. Something about a warning about making your chapters too short for the amount of narrative they contain... yes, that was it. Each chapter should be as long as it takes to tell the part of the story it tells, it's true, but those parts should feel like reasonably substantial chunks of prose - at least at the start of the story, where you're trying to hook the reader so that you may later reel them in and gut them at your pleasure.

Tl;dr: I'm commenting on your chapters and saying that while initially the story felt a little uncertain, it seems to be finding its feet now and I look forward to it improving still further in future.

On to specifics! The devil's in the detail, after all (which strikes me as odd, given that another idiom states that God is also in the aforementioned detail; some etymological research is required here on my part, I think), and so onto Chapter One.

Actually, before I get to Chapter One, I'd like to bring this to your attention:

Cannon pokemon.

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Cannon Pokémon would be something like Blastoise, I imagine; the kind of canon you mean has only one 'n' in the middle.

OK, now we're going to Chapter One.

But you needed a trainer's license to get a pokemon if you were under age

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The adjective underage is one word.

He paused just long enough to grab the device hanging by the door, a series of plastic tubes all connected by an elastic band and folded neatly together.

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A brilliant moment, I have to say. There's a delicious sense of 'oh, no way' when he reaches for the cane, so kudos to you for that. It's interesting, unexpected and it sets the mind racing about what's going to come ahead. I would say that the realisation that Ian is blind, though, would be a splendid ending for the chapter, giving it a real punch and setting the reader up to expect great things ahead. As it is, it sits in the middle of the chapter as a strong point, but perhaps not as powerful as it might be. Again, this is just a matter of fine-tuning; it's good whether you move it or not, but it might work better at the end.

"Did you hear they opened the road in the grassland back up to trainers? The pokerus outbreak has died down enough, should be getting more people around town again now that trainers can travel!' Maggie said cheerfully, nodding her head, perky brown bun bobbing.

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Perhaps consider breaking that second sentence in Maggie's dialogue in half, replacing the comma with a full stop; it's a bit easier to read that way. Also, Pokérus = awesome, if handled correctly. I like the way you're taking little bits and pieces of the game mechanics and translating them into real-world concerns; it's interesting and looks set to be hugely entertaining. I've got some more to say about that in my notes to Chapter Three, as well, so I'll say no more for now.

Actually, I'm thinking about the effects of Pokérus right now. A virus that causes vastly accelerated power growth in Pokémon is an interesting idea indeed - kind of like some weird kind of hyperbeneficent cancer. Even if that's not your take on it, I'd be interested to see where you go with it.

All right, I really must move on. I've been doing this review for well over an hour now and I'm acutely aware that most of it has been spent rambling on about nothing at all. Must... pack in... more content...

standing calmly on his porch, pack on his back, and calm like the wind before a storm.

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Simple over-repetition here. There are too many instances of the world 'calm' or 'calmly', too close together. There's another a sentence or two before these two, as well.

On to Chapter Two! (As I write that, an image flashes through my mind: a man on horseback on top of a hill pointing forwards with his sword to lead his army to glory. I fear the cinema of my imagination is getting out of control.)

it was quite the pity that the only human for miles that would've been able to appreciate it was blind.

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It scans better as 'quite a pity' and 'miles who would've', since usually people say 'It's a pity that' and refer to humans as 'who' rather than 'that'. Also, I'd stay away from contractions like 'would've' except in direct speech; they're a little too informal for written prose in most cases, and don't really fit with the rest of your writing style.

the rapidash caught a few blades of grass on fire

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Either the grass caught on fire or the Rapidash set the grass on fire - but the Rapidash cannot have caught a few blades of grass on fire.

Luckily it didn't struggle anymore, whether it was through trust or exhaustion wasn't clear, but either way Ian was safe for the time being.

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This is a comma splice, the illegal joining together of two complete sentences with a comma - a job that the humble comma, for all its many uses, can't fulfil. You either have to use a semicolon, which can join two related sentences together, or split it into two separate sentences.

The Pokémon must be seriously injured to have that much blood coating it, perhaps he could help.

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This is another one. I haven't picked out every single one, but there are a few more dotted about here and there. I will try and have another look for them all at some point so I can point them out to you.

I do have to wonder, incidentally, why the Rapidash ended up where it did. It fled the scene, then fled Ian to run back again - for reasons of convenience to the plot, of course, but I'm not sure if there's any reason beyond that. It's not a major problem, really, but I tend to think too much and so the idea came to mind.

he abandoned using his cane to chase his way through the grasses.

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Chase is a transitive verb and, as such, requires an object. You can't use it without one, as you are doing here - so either you have to add the Rapidash as the object of the verb here, or exchange chase for another word.

Also, grass is a mass noun: it's correct here to write that Ian ran through the grass, rather than through the grasses. You would only write grasses if he is running through multiple different types of grass. This mistake was made elsewhere, as well; it's something to be aware of.

Chapter Three, then, and onto the home straight. If you're still reading, let me congratulate you on your stamina. A lesser writer would have given in by now.

….

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Ellipses only ever have three full stops in.

There was a large circle of smoldering grass where the lightning had struck, a few tenacious little streaks of grass still abalaze. Ian had ended up on top of one of the grassland's gentle, sloping, hills, and below him lay a large area where the grass had been flattened and trampled to form a vaguely circular arena bordered by the taller grasses. In it stood several pokemon, clearly separated both by sight and sound into two distinct sides.

On one side, a grizzled looking raticate crouched with fangs bared, ready to leap into action. Its fur hung off it in ragged patches, exposing various wounds, large in number but rather shallow looking. Around the raticate several electrikes lay in the dust gently moaning, only identifiable to Ian because a few of them happened to moan their name out, as many pokemon did. The smell of burning fur could be attributed to the raticate, as it had apparently barely dodged being hit by the deadly lightning that had scorched the earth around it, and its left side was charred a darkened brown. The rapidash lay behind it, not collapsed on his side like he'd been before, but legs curled under it. The flames along its body were small and weak, but it managed to hold its head up defiantly and glare.

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Very, very visual... I'm just saying. I made this point already, but this is to illustrate it: presented with this chunk of text, there's only one clue to tell us that the protagonist is blind, when there's a lot of interest to be generated (and fun to be had) in describing things a bit more aurally.

Both raticate and rapidash were known for their uncanny ability to escape battles at a moments notice if they so wished, to the bane of trainers everywhere, so why stand and fight?

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Nice. I like Abilities, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of this sort of expansion on game mechanics in future chapters.

As improbable as crossbreeding was in the wild, it had been proven in captivity to be possible so-

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1. That should be a long dash instead of a hyphen.
2. The fact that you're bringing in the bizarre Egg Group system into this is indescribably awesome to me. I can't even explain why. All I can say is that I'm very excited about the possibility of finding out more about this later on.

Hey, Rattata can learn Flame Wheel by breeding from Rapidash, right? This should be interesting.

The nest was well hidden, there was no way it could see the rattatas but somehow the manectric's eyes fell to the grasses.

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Another comma splice.

The taller grasses had given way to the shorter, hardier grasses

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That grass/grasses confusion is rearing its head again.

And... that's pretty much it! This is a good story, and I hope that my critique will help you to sharpen up the edges, tighten a few bolts and perform other mechanical metaphors with the end result of making it even better. Good luck with your future efforts, and I wish you all the best.

F.A.B.

Aaaaahhh my first review here! @u@ And such an awesome and thorough one too! D: Thank you very much for everything! I do want to respond to some of your comments (though I will bow to most of your grammar suggestions. I will admit I am not the best speller or grammar uh, user...)

As it stands, it almost feels like Ian being blind is a secondary component in the story, because it's as rich in visual description as if it were about a fully sighted character instead. There are parts where this trend is reversed, like this...

-cut out quotes out for brevity's sake-

and moments like these are actually much stronger than any of the more visually-oriented passages. It's exciting and it's different to see through Ian's eyes, to use a potentially problematic metaphor, and I think the difference between this being a good story - which it undoubtedly is - and a great one would be making greater use of the fantastic resource you've given yourself in a blind protagonist. It'd be wonderful to see it come to the fore a little - for instance, if we didn't already know the Rattata was shiny, it would have a powerful impact on the reader indeed to learn that it was so several chapters later, perhaps, when someone sighted mentions it. 'All that time, and we never knew...' they would think. And suchlike.

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Okay about the visual versus blind thing. It is something I've struggled with very much with how much to put in with restricting what I tell the reader only to what Ian perceives. Firstly, I will agree that I might need a little more descriptions of his blindness, but I am not bothered by the fact that it's secondary like you said. It is a major part of Ian's life, but I didn't want to go out and have a blind character that was defined SOLEY by his blindness. I didn't want to bang readers over the head with it, or be constantly reminding them that he was blind. I think that it's much more important to treat Ian like any other trainer character you would see, and focus much more on his thoughts and reactions as you would a seeing trainer. There are plans in a later chapter where he gets to discuss with someone how he perceives the world being blind and how it has affected him and his desire to go on a journey, so it's not ignored, but I don't want it to be the utter focus of the story and all his characterization either. Perhaps I am leaning a bit too far in the other direction, I certainly don't want to sweep it under the rug either, but I have put thought into whether or not I should confine the narrative to only what Ian can guess.

The other reason for the semi-mixed perspective when it comes to description is just for reader clairity and comfort. Most readers can see, and many people like visuals to imagine and it's sort of expected of stories to describe visual details. I didn't want to deprive the readers of the visual yummies just because Ian was, because as I mentioned before, the goal of the story isn't so much to go "LOOK HE IS BLIND THIS IS WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE BLIND" so much as it's a story about a trainer who just happens to be blind. For a while I actually did try to go strictly by sound and touch as Ian would (which comes through in the first chapter and the inspection of the rapidash) but as an entire storytelling technique I felt it left things muddled and unclear, and needing Ian to interpret everything to sell the readers on what was happening turns into too much telling as opposed to showing in my opinion. I'm sure a greater writer than me could pull it off, but I had much difficulty and it left my story looking anemic >3<;; I do still try to add in surprises and still present Ian as not being in tune to the visual descriptions though. Also, for the rattata. He does become a larger part of the story and a more important character later on, and I wanted a distinctive way of identifying him from the beginning, so that there would be no confusion between him and his purple siblings and who did what when. Otherwise, I TOTALLY would've let it be a reveal at the end of the story.

Now look you've got me rambling too >.<

I would say that the realization that Ian is blind, though, would be a splendid ending for the chapter, giving it a real punch and setting the reader up to expect great things ahead. As it is, it sits in the middle of the chapter as a strong point, but perhaps not as powerful as it might be.

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Actually, it originally WAS the ending of the first chapter, and I'll agree that I like it a lot as the end. However, the entire point of the first chapter is pretty much to introduce Ian as a character, but in addition to his blindness the situation surrounding the pokerus outbreak in the grasslands, and why he did not have a pokemon with him as well. It was hard to get all of it into his brief escape from the house, which is why I had him run into Maggie outside. I also felt it gave him a second, more personal farewell to his parents, actually spoken aloud, which I felt was important because I wanted to make it clear that even though he was running away from home, he didn't hate his parents or family.

Aaaaaand most of the other stuff is nitpicky grammar and such, so I don't feel the need to explain my perspective for those other to say, "Oops you're probably right about all that."

Thank you very much for reviewing the story! You gave me a lot to think about concerning trying to balance Ian's blindness out a bit more in the narration and maybe re-writing the ending of chapter one because I agree that ending with the reveal tastes so much sweeter than what I have now. >.> Food for thought in any case and if you have any suggestions for some of the problems I was wrestling with would be awesome and I would love to hear them! :D

Thank youuuuu! <3

InkFrog said:

Aaaaahhh my first review here! @u@ And such an awesome and thorough one too! D: Thank you very much for everything! I do want to respond to some of your comments (though I will bow to most of your grammar suggestions. I will admit I am not the best speller or grammar uh, user...)

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Not at all. I like to help.

InkFrog said:

Okay about the visual versus blind thing. It is something I've struggled with very much with how much to put in with restricting what I tell the reader only to what Ian perceives. Firstly, I will agree that I might need a little more descriptions of his blindness, but I am not bothered by the fact that it's secondary like you said. It is a major part of Ian's life, but I didn't want to go out and have a blind character that was defined SOLEY by his blindness. I didn't want to bang readers over the head with it, or be constantly reminding them that he was blind. I think that it's much more important to treat Ian like any other trainer character you would see, and focus much more on his thoughts and reactions as you would a seeing trainer. There are plans in a later chapter where he gets to discuss with someone how he perceives the world being blind and how it has affected him and his desire to go on a journey, so it's not ignored, but I don't want it to be the utter focus of the story and all his characterization either. Perhaps I am leaning a bit too far in the other direction, I certainly don't want to sweep it under the rug either, but I have put thought into whether or not I should confine the narrative to only what Ian can guess.

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Perfectly reasonable. I don't mean to say you should beat the reader over the head with it, although I may have given that impression, I guess, given how long I spent talking about it. (That's just because I like to write down my thoughts, to be honest.) I just meant it might be nice to see it become a little more of a focus - not the sole focus, and not necessarily the main focus either, but more of one. It's a great excuse to pull off some neat techniques that you might not be able to do in other circumstances, and I guess because I would relish the chance to do that I got slightly carried away with it. I'm not here to force you to write the story the same way I would, just to suggest a couple of alterations.

InkFrog said:

Also, for the rattata. He does become a larger part of the story and a more important character later on, and I wanted a distinctive way of identifying him from the beginning, so that there would be no confusion between him and his purple siblings and who did what when. Otherwise, I TOTALLY would've let it be a reveal at the end of the story.

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Yes... It would have been great to realise that the Rattata we'd been reading about for the last however many chapters was a shiny, and we never knew it... There's still a chance, you know. You gave him a distinctive missing whisker - he could be the three-whiskered Rattata. Ah, never mind... I'm grasping at straws here.

InkFrog said:

Now look you've got me rambling too >.<

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Well, y'know, the more the merrier.

InkFrog said:

Actually, it originally WAS the ending of the first chapter, and I'll agree that I like it a lot as the end. However, the entire point of the first chapter is pretty much to introduce Ian as a character, but in addition to his blindness the situation surrounding the pokerus outbreak in the grasslands, and why he did not have a pokemon with him as well. It was hard to get all of it into his brief escape from the house, which is why I had him run into Maggie outside. I also felt it gave him a second, more personal farewell to his parents, actually spoken aloud, which I felt was important because I wanted to make it clear that even though he was running away from home, he didn't hate his parents or family.

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Yes, I can see that. And of course I know there was more to that first chapter than just introducing Ian, and I'm not saying you ought to cut out the part that comes after the reveal, but it would make a splendid ending, if you ever consider reworking it.

InkFrog said:

Thank you very much for reviewing the story! You gave me a lot to think about concerning trying to balance Ian's blindness out a bit more in the narration and maybe re-writing the ending of chapter one because I agree that ending with the reveal tastes so much sweeter than what I have now. >.> Food for thought in any case and if you have any suggestions for some of the problems I was wrestling with would be awesome and I would love to hear them! :D

Thank youuuuu! <3

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^_^ Not at all. Like I said, I like to help. I'm sorry I didn't make myself clearer about what I meant by the whole visual/aural description thing... I do have a tendency to get carried away, particularly when I'm on the scent of an unusual stylistic opportunity, and that's what happened here. You have my apologies for that, but, well, no harm done.

Good luck with your future endeavours!

F.A.B.