Ria
Minx Extraordinaire
- 127
- Posts
- 17
- Years
- The Delightful Company of THEM
- Seen Oct 20, 2007
Erm... *peeks in* Hi! Anyone remembers me? No? Good! :D
Well, the last fic I had been writing here waaaaaay back when fell prey to my lack of time and I lost the file and felt really, REALLY bad about that so I didn't dare show my face here until I had something with which to make it up to all those people I'm sure exist only inside my head and who like to read the stuff I write. xD
Anywho, I bugged people all over the WWW with this long introduction thing, so you ain't escaping it neither...I mean either. o.O' Erm... *inhales*
Er-herm, to anyone who might be reading this for whatever reason - casual browser, most respected reader, warmly welcomed, potential reviewer - I shall bore you with my thoughts for a bit now. If you are not interested, scroll a bit down to the big letters where my fic starts, if you are interested...read on, but I'm warning you - you are in for a mini-manifesto of sorts, if I may be so presumptuous to call it such.
OT fics! We love them, or we hate them, but the fact of the matter is - whoever has written a page of pokemon fanfiction, nay - whoever has played pokemon games or seen the pokemon show for at least five minutes - has one of these. Whether they are safely hidden in the deepest confines of our imagination (or hard drive), or we flaunt them proudly in Fan Fiction forums like a shining badge on our puffed-up chest or, if you please, a stunning banner in our signatures - we all have one. Our story, our pokemon world biography, the destiny we would love to live through our characters which are, in fact, ourselves.
Resentment which some hold for this genre, even I share, to a certain extent. How many times can we read the same thing with different names over and over? Like poets from the era of Neo-Classicism, a huge number of OT writers seemed to have adopted a standard form of writing in which they freely copy and repeat the once-successful motifs and figures of authors, once admired, but now detested.
I do not presume to teach anyone how to write, especially since there are many pokemon Fan Fiction writers in whose presence I barely dare to quietly exist, who hold my deepest, graves respect, but who will, more than likely, only hear about it when I have developed a grain of skill which they posses in unmeasurable quantities and thus mustered enough confidence to tell them in the face (or, in the post) how much I admire their work.
Still, I have read OT fics for a long time and I think I can tell apart those which are worth everything from those which aren't worth anything. So, I say - what you are about to read probably hovers somewhere around the negative center of the two extremes. It will not be the greatest OT fic ever written, I can't even guarantee it will be epic, but I can tell you that what you will read, should you choose to, is the absolute best I can give you at the moment and I am hoping it will grow better in time.
With a final remark that the title of the fic pretty much reflects my current feelings, I give you:
I can't believe I'm doing this!
I could feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest, as if it had suddenly grown wings and become a Pidgey who was now trying to break out and fly free, as I pressed myself against the wall, knowing that the one thing that could cause my entire world to come crashing down was slowly walking closer and would appear from around the corner any second.
"Okay, Mohini," I thought to myself while my hands abandoned all discipline and engaged each other in a tremulous wrestling match, "This is honestly, seriously no big deal. Just walk out in front of him and casually emphasize your most striking feature. Easy."
I blinked in horrified realisation - not easy! I don't have any bloody, striking features!
"Calm down!" hissed the little voice in my head which was, basically, a more calm, mature and confident version of myself,"You have plenty, just pick one. Your hair! That's right, you have gorgeous hair! Step out, smile sunnily and run your hand through your hair nonchalantly. Even you can't mess up that one."
I allowed myself a moment to contemplate the possibility. It sounded feasible, even for me. Okay, it was a go. I stepped around the corner of the Pokemon Lab from where I had been preparing my ambush and bravely took a couple of steps towards the strapping young man in a white overcoat which he wore over his favourite outfit – a simple, blue jumper and a pair of faded jeans. He's so casually cool…
"Focus, damn you!" the little voice snapped at me furiously, "The hair thing! Do the hair thing while he's still looking!"
I flinched out of my admiration and launched my plan into motion immediately. My hand flew into my supple, lavender hair, the very feeling of its velvety softness infusing me with a dose of much-needed confidence…until my fingers became tangled in the seemingly pliant mass to the point where I couldn't even pull my hand out.
I literally froze in utter horror. I didn't want Gary Oak – the Gary Oak who had been the most feared Gym leader for years before he came to Pallet to continue his grandfather's work – to remember me as a crazy girl who jumped out in front of him, trying to yank off half of her scalp.
Of course, he reached me before I had time to escape and, to my utter humiliation, he looked like he was having trouble keeping a straight face. I also noticed that he had grown his hair and wore it bound in an adorable pony tail and that his eyes, unlike on most posters I had dutifully collected for years, were brown and not green. That is so going straight into my blog tonight.
"You are standing right in front of the best pokemon trainer, slash professor of all times with your hand stuck in your hair and all you're thinking about is your idiotic fangirl blog?"
Oh, bugger! I yanked my trapped hand as discretely as possible, which was hard enough on its own without him grinning at me charmingly like that.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes traveling unmistakably towards the large, mauve, hairy protuberance on the top of my head inside which my hand now resided, "You need some help with your…er…hand?"
"Oh, no, no, thank you." I managed to press out while my face bloomed redder with every word, "I-uh…like to hold it this way. Y-yeah. It's-um…relaxing! You know Tai-Chi? Well, this is the same thing, only for hair. Er. Balances out your roots instead of your Chakra…heh."
"Shut up. Seriously."
I kept babbling. I couldn't help it. My mouth was like one of those science fiction mechanisms which are placed into motion in case there is an all-consuming Armageddon and can not be overridden even by the President's master key.
"I-er mean, everyone is going on and on and on about spiritual health and no one gives a hoot about hair nowadays."
"Shut up. Shut up now. Close your mouth."
"If you ask me, good hair is good health, you know. I mean, you can't have spiritual harmony if your hair is all over the place, can you? And hair is much easier to get in balance than your soul, so it's natural that you ought to do that first, right?"
"Zip it. Stop producing words."
"All it takes is a bit of hair conditioner and, as you can see, some contact. Hair has to feel loved too, you know. Heehe…"
"Phenomenal."
O-kay. The up side was that I was no longer talking. The down side? The most gorgeous and famous trainer in all known regions was now staring at me, apparently utterly speechless, though probably much better educated when it came to hair care. I decided it was high time I did the only thing humanly possible.
"Well…see you around!" I pressed out and rushed past him, catching him on the side with the elbow of my trapped arm.
"Just bloody brilliant."
I got home with the full intention of slamming myself shut inside my room where I would wallow in teenage angst while listening to sappy ballads, but my mother, who possessed an uncanny ability to pop up at the most inconvenient moment possible, naturally popped up right now.
"Mohini! What have you done to your hair?" she asked, scanning my predicament with hawk-like eyes which, along with her hawk-like nose, gave her a very hawk-like appearance altogether. It quite suited her. When I see her with this look, I always imagine how she goes to sleep every night and dreams about soaring over endless grasslands while scanning the ground below for scurrying prey.
Normally, she would pester me about what has happened and I would refuse to tell her, then she would pester me some more, then we would have a huge fight and not speak to each other for several days at which point I would convince myself that the whole thing was entirely my fault and barge into her room, crying my eyes out where I would tell her about everything she had wanted to know and we would make up. Today, I was really not in the mood for that, so I decided to take the easy way out.
"Are you insane? Don't tell her! Don't tell anyone! This fiasco should remain dead and buried so that even you wonder whether you've just dreamed it!"
"I waited in ambush for Gary Oak to come to the Lab." I said and added before she had time to cut in, "Yes, the Gary Oak. I really, really like him, you see, so I waited for him and tried to get his attention by running my hand through my hair but it got stuck. Then I started babbling, said a lot of stupid things which mostly concerned hair care, hit him in the ribs with my elbow and left."
It was a treat – seeing my mother speechless for once. She now looked like a speechless hawk and the sight cheered me up a bit.
"He's ten years older than you." were her first words when she regained her power of speech.
"Oh, he is not!" I snapped back, mentally counting from fourteen to twenty four after which I reddened a bit. I can't believe I have written the words 'Mrs. Mohini Oak' five hundred times and I hadn't even bothered to compare our age.
"Er- well, okay, so he's ten years older." I admitted stubbornly, "But it's not that big of a difference…er. It might seem like it now, but when I'm, like, twenty and he's thirty no one will care, so there."
My mum just rolled her eyes with that horrible expression parents make when they think that their children are going through some cute phase they will grow out of in a little while.
"Of course, dear." she said patronizingly as she gently untangled my hand from my hair, "Now let's get down to the news of the day!"
She said this with such an expectant look that I did a double take at her. The news of the day? I wrecked my brains over what she might mean, but always came up with the same thing.
"I got nothing. Zero. Nill. Nowt. Not a whit. Zilch."
There had to be something, my mother only made that face on very special occasions. And by 'special' I mean such about which she could brag to her Sunday Bridge Club.
"Read my figurative lips – nothing. And guess what – more nothing. The Return of Nothing, Nothing Rides Again, The Son of Nothing, Nothing vs. Rocky Balboa."
"What are you talking about?" I asked finally, but, undeterred, she just nudged me with her elbow cheekily. Note to self: never be cheeky when I become a mother. Seriously.
"Oh, don't play coy with me, missy!" she giggled, "Your pokemon! Let's see it! That's why you went to the lab today…right?"
When she took in my blank expression, her eyes narrowed at me and her face somehow took on the appearance of a looming thunderstorm.
"You did go to the Lab to get a pokemon today, didn't you?" she asked ominously, "Given that today is the day you were scheduled to get a pokemon and begin your journey. Right?"
My violet eyes, many shades darker than my mauve hair, flew to the calendar where, to my relief, there were no little red circles around dates indicating that there was something planned for today. My mother followed my look and snatched the thing from the wall, shoving it in my face until I could clearly read the name of the month under the gorgeous picture of a branch of swollen, pink flower buds…which was April.
I reached out timidly and tore out the obsolete page to reveal the next one which was practically covered with bold, red arrows I had drawn with my marker which were all pointing to the circled 6th of May…which was today.
"Oh, no!" I gasped, my face draining of all colour before I dashed outside, but as soon as I stepped into the street I froze in horrified realization. Gary Oak was now the Pokemon Professor here in Luna town which meant that he would be giving me my starter pokemon.
I dashed back inside and up the stairs to my room.
"I have to change first!" I intercepted my mother's question while I was running upstairs, leaving an article of clothing on each step to save time.
When I barged into my room I was only wearing my lavender vest and underpants, but I dove into my closet immediately and began digging for something which would ensure I looked beautiful and successful and, if possible, that Gary wouldn't recognize me even though we'd met ten minutes ago.
After barely a minute, which was pretty impressive time, I swooped in front of my huge mirror and eyed my entire appearance critically. Good, good, it wasn't too shabby – I had dug out my white and violet dress which was one of those articles of clothing which give a, perhaps misleading, sense of chastity.
The sleeves of medium length, ending halfway down my forearm, were white, as well as a small part above the armpit to armpit line which was divided from the rest of the dress with a subtly-laced stripe of pale violet, a perfect transition between the pure whiteness and the deep lilac. What I liked the most about this dress was the fact that you could tie the neck opening closed with a black string in which case it only revealed my neck and a small area around my collar bone, while you could also leave it untied and it would reveal just the perfect amount of my chest, not quite down to my bosom, but enough to be tastefully intriguing.
It was a tad shorter than I was used to – just above half of my thigh, but I evened it out by pulling on a pair of sporty, white stockings which hugged my legs to just above the knees, leaving only a bit of skin between them and the bottom of the dress to be seen.
O-kay. I was ready. I hastily gathered my hair and bound it into two tight orbs on each side of my head, leaving a few strands hanging loose, just for the casual effect and then I dashed down the stairs, on my way grabbing the backpack which mum held ready for me with a jaded look on her face.
I burst out into the street like a bird let out of her cage for the first time, so free that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. My feet decided for me and carried me towards the place of my previous humiliation: the Luna town Pokemon Laboratory.
Watch out, world, here comes Mohini!
"Seriously, watch out. I knock stuff over."
END OF PROLOGUE
Well, there. ^,^ One last thing, do NOT expect updates often. This is a really, seriously, long-term thing so if you decide to follow this...bring travel supplies!
PS: I really hope no one remembers me! ^.^'
Well, the last fic I had been writing here waaaaaay back when fell prey to my lack of time and I lost the file and felt really, REALLY bad about that so I didn't dare show my face here until I had something with which to make it up to all those people I'm sure exist only inside my head and who like to read the stuff I write. xD
Anywho, I bugged people all over the WWW with this long introduction thing, so you ain't escaping it neither...I mean either. o.O' Erm... *inhales*
Er-herm, to anyone who might be reading this for whatever reason - casual browser, most respected reader, warmly welcomed, potential reviewer - I shall bore you with my thoughts for a bit now. If you are not interested, scroll a bit down to the big letters where my fic starts, if you are interested...read on, but I'm warning you - you are in for a mini-manifesto of sorts, if I may be so presumptuous to call it such.
OT fics! We love them, or we hate them, but the fact of the matter is - whoever has written a page of pokemon fanfiction, nay - whoever has played pokemon games or seen the pokemon show for at least five minutes - has one of these. Whether they are safely hidden in the deepest confines of our imagination (or hard drive), or we flaunt them proudly in Fan Fiction forums like a shining badge on our puffed-up chest or, if you please, a stunning banner in our signatures - we all have one. Our story, our pokemon world biography, the destiny we would love to live through our characters which are, in fact, ourselves.
Resentment which some hold for this genre, even I share, to a certain extent. How many times can we read the same thing with different names over and over? Like poets from the era of Neo-Classicism, a huge number of OT writers seemed to have adopted a standard form of writing in which they freely copy and repeat the once-successful motifs and figures of authors, once admired, but now detested.
I do not presume to teach anyone how to write, especially since there are many pokemon Fan Fiction writers in whose presence I barely dare to quietly exist, who hold my deepest, graves respect, but who will, more than likely, only hear about it when I have developed a grain of skill which they posses in unmeasurable quantities and thus mustered enough confidence to tell them in the face (or, in the post) how much I admire their work.
Still, I have read OT fics for a long time and I think I can tell apart those which are worth everything from those which aren't worth anything. So, I say - what you are about to read probably hovers somewhere around the negative center of the two extremes. It will not be the greatest OT fic ever written, I can't even guarantee it will be epic, but I can tell you that what you will read, should you choose to, is the absolute best I can give you at the moment and I am hoping it will grow better in time.
With a final remark that the title of the fic pretty much reflects my current feelings, I give you:
I can't believe I'm doing this...
A humble Prologue
I can't believe I'm doing this!
I could feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest, as if it had suddenly grown wings and become a Pidgey who was now trying to break out and fly free, as I pressed myself against the wall, knowing that the one thing that could cause my entire world to come crashing down was slowly walking closer and would appear from around the corner any second.
"Okay, Mohini," I thought to myself while my hands abandoned all discipline and engaged each other in a tremulous wrestling match, "This is honestly, seriously no big deal. Just walk out in front of him and casually emphasize your most striking feature. Easy."
I blinked in horrified realisation - not easy! I don't have any bloody, striking features!
"Calm down!" hissed the little voice in my head which was, basically, a more calm, mature and confident version of myself,"You have plenty, just pick one. Your hair! That's right, you have gorgeous hair! Step out, smile sunnily and run your hand through your hair nonchalantly. Even you can't mess up that one."
I allowed myself a moment to contemplate the possibility. It sounded feasible, even for me. Okay, it was a go. I stepped around the corner of the Pokemon Lab from where I had been preparing my ambush and bravely took a couple of steps towards the strapping young man in a white overcoat which he wore over his favourite outfit – a simple, blue jumper and a pair of faded jeans. He's so casually cool…
"Focus, damn you!" the little voice snapped at me furiously, "The hair thing! Do the hair thing while he's still looking!"
I flinched out of my admiration and launched my plan into motion immediately. My hand flew into my supple, lavender hair, the very feeling of its velvety softness infusing me with a dose of much-needed confidence…until my fingers became tangled in the seemingly pliant mass to the point where I couldn't even pull my hand out.
I literally froze in utter horror. I didn't want Gary Oak – the Gary Oak who had been the most feared Gym leader for years before he came to Pallet to continue his grandfather's work – to remember me as a crazy girl who jumped out in front of him, trying to yank off half of her scalp.
Of course, he reached me before I had time to escape and, to my utter humiliation, he looked like he was having trouble keeping a straight face. I also noticed that he had grown his hair and wore it bound in an adorable pony tail and that his eyes, unlike on most posters I had dutifully collected for years, were brown and not green. That is so going straight into my blog tonight.
"You are standing right in front of the best pokemon trainer, slash professor of all times with your hand stuck in your hair and all you're thinking about is your idiotic fangirl blog?"
Oh, bugger! I yanked my trapped hand as discretely as possible, which was hard enough on its own without him grinning at me charmingly like that.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes traveling unmistakably towards the large, mauve, hairy protuberance on the top of my head inside which my hand now resided, "You need some help with your…er…hand?"
"Oh, no, no, thank you." I managed to press out while my face bloomed redder with every word, "I-uh…like to hold it this way. Y-yeah. It's-um…relaxing! You know Tai-Chi? Well, this is the same thing, only for hair. Er. Balances out your roots instead of your Chakra…heh."
"Shut up. Seriously."
I kept babbling. I couldn't help it. My mouth was like one of those science fiction mechanisms which are placed into motion in case there is an all-consuming Armageddon and can not be overridden even by the President's master key.
"I-er mean, everyone is going on and on and on about spiritual health and no one gives a hoot about hair nowadays."
"Shut up. Shut up now. Close your mouth."
"If you ask me, good hair is good health, you know. I mean, you can't have spiritual harmony if your hair is all over the place, can you? And hair is much easier to get in balance than your soul, so it's natural that you ought to do that first, right?"
"Zip it. Stop producing words."
"All it takes is a bit of hair conditioner and, as you can see, some contact. Hair has to feel loved too, you know. Heehe…"
"Phenomenal."
O-kay. The up side was that I was no longer talking. The down side? The most gorgeous and famous trainer in all known regions was now staring at me, apparently utterly speechless, though probably much better educated when it came to hair care. I decided it was high time I did the only thing humanly possible.
"Well…see you around!" I pressed out and rushed past him, catching him on the side with the elbow of my trapped arm.
"Just bloody brilliant."
I got home with the full intention of slamming myself shut inside my room where I would wallow in teenage angst while listening to sappy ballads, but my mother, who possessed an uncanny ability to pop up at the most inconvenient moment possible, naturally popped up right now.
"Mohini! What have you done to your hair?" she asked, scanning my predicament with hawk-like eyes which, along with her hawk-like nose, gave her a very hawk-like appearance altogether. It quite suited her. When I see her with this look, I always imagine how she goes to sleep every night and dreams about soaring over endless grasslands while scanning the ground below for scurrying prey.
Normally, she would pester me about what has happened and I would refuse to tell her, then she would pester me some more, then we would have a huge fight and not speak to each other for several days at which point I would convince myself that the whole thing was entirely my fault and barge into her room, crying my eyes out where I would tell her about everything she had wanted to know and we would make up. Today, I was really not in the mood for that, so I decided to take the easy way out.
"Are you insane? Don't tell her! Don't tell anyone! This fiasco should remain dead and buried so that even you wonder whether you've just dreamed it!"
"I waited in ambush for Gary Oak to come to the Lab." I said and added before she had time to cut in, "Yes, the Gary Oak. I really, really like him, you see, so I waited for him and tried to get his attention by running my hand through my hair but it got stuck. Then I started babbling, said a lot of stupid things which mostly concerned hair care, hit him in the ribs with my elbow and left."
It was a treat – seeing my mother speechless for once. She now looked like a speechless hawk and the sight cheered me up a bit.
"He's ten years older than you." were her first words when she regained her power of speech.
"Oh, he is not!" I snapped back, mentally counting from fourteen to twenty four after which I reddened a bit. I can't believe I have written the words 'Mrs. Mohini Oak' five hundred times and I hadn't even bothered to compare our age.
"Er- well, okay, so he's ten years older." I admitted stubbornly, "But it's not that big of a difference…er. It might seem like it now, but when I'm, like, twenty and he's thirty no one will care, so there."
My mum just rolled her eyes with that horrible expression parents make when they think that their children are going through some cute phase they will grow out of in a little while.
"Of course, dear." she said patronizingly as she gently untangled my hand from my hair, "Now let's get down to the news of the day!"
She said this with such an expectant look that I did a double take at her. The news of the day? I wrecked my brains over what she might mean, but always came up with the same thing.
"I got nothing. Zero. Nill. Nowt. Not a whit. Zilch."
There had to be something, my mother only made that face on very special occasions. And by 'special' I mean such about which she could brag to her Sunday Bridge Club.
"Read my figurative lips – nothing. And guess what – more nothing. The Return of Nothing, Nothing Rides Again, The Son of Nothing, Nothing vs. Rocky Balboa."
"What are you talking about?" I asked finally, but, undeterred, she just nudged me with her elbow cheekily. Note to self: never be cheeky when I become a mother. Seriously.
"Oh, don't play coy with me, missy!" she giggled, "Your pokemon! Let's see it! That's why you went to the lab today…right?"
When she took in my blank expression, her eyes narrowed at me and her face somehow took on the appearance of a looming thunderstorm.
"You did go to the Lab to get a pokemon today, didn't you?" she asked ominously, "Given that today is the day you were scheduled to get a pokemon and begin your journey. Right?"
My violet eyes, many shades darker than my mauve hair, flew to the calendar where, to my relief, there were no little red circles around dates indicating that there was something planned for today. My mother followed my look and snatched the thing from the wall, shoving it in my face until I could clearly read the name of the month under the gorgeous picture of a branch of swollen, pink flower buds…which was April.
I reached out timidly and tore out the obsolete page to reveal the next one which was practically covered with bold, red arrows I had drawn with my marker which were all pointing to the circled 6th of May…which was today.
"Oh, no!" I gasped, my face draining of all colour before I dashed outside, but as soon as I stepped into the street I froze in horrified realization. Gary Oak was now the Pokemon Professor here in Luna town which meant that he would be giving me my starter pokemon.
I dashed back inside and up the stairs to my room.
"I have to change first!" I intercepted my mother's question while I was running upstairs, leaving an article of clothing on each step to save time.
When I barged into my room I was only wearing my lavender vest and underpants, but I dove into my closet immediately and began digging for something which would ensure I looked beautiful and successful and, if possible, that Gary wouldn't recognize me even though we'd met ten minutes ago.
After barely a minute, which was pretty impressive time, I swooped in front of my huge mirror and eyed my entire appearance critically. Good, good, it wasn't too shabby – I had dug out my white and violet dress which was one of those articles of clothing which give a, perhaps misleading, sense of chastity.
The sleeves of medium length, ending halfway down my forearm, were white, as well as a small part above the armpit to armpit line which was divided from the rest of the dress with a subtly-laced stripe of pale violet, a perfect transition between the pure whiteness and the deep lilac. What I liked the most about this dress was the fact that you could tie the neck opening closed with a black string in which case it only revealed my neck and a small area around my collar bone, while you could also leave it untied and it would reveal just the perfect amount of my chest, not quite down to my bosom, but enough to be tastefully intriguing.
It was a tad shorter than I was used to – just above half of my thigh, but I evened it out by pulling on a pair of sporty, white stockings which hugged my legs to just above the knees, leaving only a bit of skin between them and the bottom of the dress to be seen.
O-kay. I was ready. I hastily gathered my hair and bound it into two tight orbs on each side of my head, leaving a few strands hanging loose, just for the casual effect and then I dashed down the stairs, on my way grabbing the backpack which mum held ready for me with a jaded look on her face.
I burst out into the street like a bird let out of her cage for the first time, so free that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. My feet decided for me and carried me towards the place of my previous humiliation: the Luna town Pokemon Laboratory.
Watch out, world, here comes Mohini!
"Seriously, watch out. I knock stuff over."
END OF PROLOGUE
Well, there. ^,^ One last thing, do NOT expect updates often. This is a really, seriously, long-term thing so if you decide to follow this...bring travel supplies!
PS: I really hope no one remembers me! ^.^'
Last edited: