I've been working of sorts on a Pokémon roleplay lore set in the 1950s. If you've ever watched an old gangster film or crime film, then please give some criticism. I'm really trying to work out a good pace for it. I believe I lack the rhythm.
Also, if you're reading this in your head, use a deep male narrative voice. Makes it more fun! Thanks!
It’s going to be tough, immigrating to some nowhere continent to the south of who knows where. There is literally one city on that whole patch of dirt: Aurelia, the Golden City of Opportunity… That was the name of the place.
You take a glance around the deck as inconspicuous as you can, shrug once and lean back over the rails.
Like everyone else on the ship, those travel ads drew you in like a hypno’s charm. A new land to explore, Pokémon to discover and opportunities out the whazoo. That’s what they promised. Heck- even your aunt took the shot, grasping at it with those spearow like claws she called nails. You’re hopeful, ‘cause if an old hag like her could become a Pokémon trainer, you’re already a gym leader.
But as your sweet old lady at home would say, “At least my sister is letting you stay till you got both feet planted.” Heh. I have no doubt that the moment I get my partner, she turns me out like yesterday’s paper. A debt repaid in her books.
An eager voice snaps you back to the present and you lazily arch your back into a stretch before turning to acknowledge him with a tip of your hat. Joey’s a good kid from a good family but, oh boy does he need a nice gal to cool his jets.
“Excited ‘bout what?” You ask.
“Just overheard some sailors talking about seeing land soon. When I get my hands on some pokéballs, the first ones gunna be a rattata…”
You stopped listening after he said “land,” ‘cause there it was in front of you, beckoning you with naive hopes and unfulfilled dreams. The green horizon breaks through the morning fog as rays of sunlight kiss the ocean tides. A flock of wingull fly just overhead, revealing a soft rainbow peeking through the crevices of a storm cloud on its final hour.
You’ve got a good feeling about this place. You know it’s going to be unlike any adventure you’ve ever faced.