Looooooong time, no see.
ATUHOR'S NOSE:
Wow. Talk about forever, I haven't updated this in, what, five, six months? I guess I kind of died. (Plus marching band is a killer.) But I'm back, and I've got my final Johto log to share. Rejoice! Also, digital cookies to whoever can correctly place the allusion here. ;) (PSST. There are two of them. One really obvious one and one hidden in the actual log.)
Day 29
Yeah, it's been a while, I know, but the past week or so has been really busy. Between Gym battles, Wingman, and other things, I haven't gotten much time at all. Let me tell you, that boy does not give up. A broken arm and a weak shoulder, yet the guy insists on pressing on. And Kanto was the place he demanded to go.
First, let me explain a little. I've been writing this - yes, writing - for a while now, but I haven't quite described how. This is a secret little journal that I have and have had for a while. I secretly keep it in Wingman's backpack - it was his notebook, anyways - and write in it whenever I get the chance. I use it to keep a record of my new life so I can look back on it later on. Part of me hopes Wingman finds it one day; I don't expect him to read it, seeing as he can't understand me talk, so how could he understand these words. I just want him to know about it. But I don't want to tell him. He should find it on his own.
But back to the main focus. In the week or so since my last entry, Wingman has recovered well, though he still has the cast and sling. Caroline is still with us, and I can tell she has feelings for Wingman; now if only he could sense them. I've been trying to drop him hints, but he's just too thick skulled. And that's something, coming from me.
Maybe it's that he's too focused on training now. We've been all over Kanto recently, mostly flying on Caroline's Pidgeot. Strangely enough, I haven't ever met that guy. Or girl. I haven't got a clue. But whatever.
The whole thing we were there to do was clear our minds of the stuff that happened in Johto. We tried everything to wipe the events off our thoughts, but Wingman's injuries were like a permanent reminder. Gym Leader rematches, campouts by the beach, shopping sprees. (That one was Caroline's suggestion, why Wingman and I agreed, I'll never know. I guess we were willing to try anything.) Nothing quite got us out of the slump, but for a while, it felt like normal.
After a while, when there seemed to be nothing left, Wingman decided to head home to Viridian City. We were just gonna visit his mom and check out how everything was going and crash there for a while. We ended up learning about a place called Mt. Silver while we were there. A couple of trainers were talking about it and about how only the toughest trainers could go there. Of course, Wingman was his normal self, wanting to go there right away. And when he gets like that, it's best to just smile and nod. There's no changing his mind by that time.
The whole trip felt like something out of a horror movie. No trainers, no people, and almost no wild Pokémon. I was kind of creeped out. I could tell that Caroline was, too, but Wingman was somehow not phased at all. At one point, Caroline whispered to me "How can he be so confident? Does he just ignore everything?" I shrugged and said "Maybe he's just stupid." Caroline couldn't understand that of course, but the shrug and tone sent the right vibe. She shrugged as well and sighed. "Whatever it is, I envy him. This place is creepy."
That's about how the rest of the walk felt, even when we got to the mountain. I remember looking up at it and being unable to see the peak, as it was shrouded with clouds. Vegetation refused to grow there, and it seemed that even the sun sheltered itself from here. The thick fog surrounding the peak stared at us ominously, as if hiding an immense darkness from the world. As I stared back, I started to lose myself into the mysterious abyss. 'And this also,' I thought, 'is one of the dark places on the earth.'
"Hey! Hurry up, Titan!"
I snapped out of whatever trance the fog had put me in and noticed Wingman and Caroline starting upward. Making haste, I caught up and we carried on.
I cannot recall all of what happened in the fog, only that we stumbled around like Combuskens without heads, trying to make sense of the darkness surrounding us. The sun didn't stand a chance in that dark place where the gray void opened up before us and swallowed the land after we passed, lapping and drooling at our heels, waiting for us to falter. We stuck close to the ground, not wanting to lose it - it was the last thing we had, for we had already lost ourselves when we entered - and followed it as one would follow a master; groveling, worried, and hoping for a sign of abatement. Every now and then, it'd throw us a scrap of insight or a morsel of direction, which we snatched up eagerly like sewer Rattatas. It chose to lead us on; we had no option other than follow or be lost.
Eventually the fog gave up on trying to break us and saw fit to let us loose. It seemed we had it defeated, but now I understand that it was only allowing its partner to take over. The temporary lift of the blinding darkness made way for an even more upsetting and unforgiving misfortune. Snow, hail, sleet, rain, all mingled together on this plain of ice and slush. Trudging through it posed an even harder challenge than the fog did. For at least in the fog, one could still feel their extremities and hear the reassuring words of their companions. So not only were we blind again, but we were also left without sound. Howling at us as a were-Mightyena would at the moon, the storm covered up all sounds, giving the illusion of a soundless barrier over our ears. It is a profound silence; no calls from wild Pokémon, no chatter of friends, no crunching of the snow beneath our feet. Only the gale. The way it pulled at clothes and skin; snatched all light up and squeezed it out of sight; stabbed at limbs, cheeks, eyes - with deadly precision. It was maddening.
I did a lot of thinking up there. Thinking about things that never should be thought about. But darkness has a way of persuasion that can trick one into paranoia. It may sound crazy, but when you stand in a raging storm blind as a Zubat with nothing to listen to but the wind, your mind wanders to dark thoughts. The snow may be pure white all around you, but it just as well be the color of the blackest night in the blackest reaches of the world to reflect the darkness it hides.
Then, all at once, a dark mass stained the sheet of snow and we no longer felt lost to the storm. Hopeful and excited, we sprinted full out for it. As we approached, it became more and more clear that it was another person, facing away from us. Reaching him, I saw him to be around Wingman's age, for he wore similar clothes and was the same general build. However, as he turned, he appeared to be in a trance, staring past us at some impossible object with empty eyes. He couldn't have been past the age of 17, but he had the eyes of an old man who has seen the world in all its glory and vulgarity.
He spoke not a word with his mouth, but rather, his eyes. They looked through me - oh, how they penetrated! like a candle would burn through a sheet of paper, painfully slow and scarring - then through Wingman. It was an unmistakable challenge.
(That part was italicized because it is my favorite passage in this whole log. In fact, I think it's the best thing I've written thus far.)
The toughest part of the whole battle was the storm. Unrelenting and determined to claim one of us, it whirled all around us. Its frigid winds cut through us like steak, tearing back and forth, rending us incapacitated. Moving my arm became a chore; actually attacking was like being asked to go to hell and back.
Not to say that the trainer's Pokémon were tough. They put up the best fight I've ever encountered. The Pikachu should have been easy, but that bugger was quick, and he knew how to hide. I blasted Shadow Balls everywhere, but none revealed the little rat's location. But when it finally attacked and I could find it, I blasted it with a powerful Earthquake, and it couldn't hide from that.
The Espeon took some amount of figuring and prediction, as it often teleported everywhere to avoid my attacks. But it followed a pattern, and that was its eventual downfall. A Shadow Ball to the right location put it out.
A Snorlax followed it, but its strategy was not evading, but rather tanking. Somehow, it took an Earthquake directly and shook it off. The second one just about did it, so a quick jab with Thunderpunch took it the rest of the way.
The last three were all of the Kanto starters at their final evolutions. Both Blastoise and Charizard put up fair fights, but Thunderpunch proved too much for them in the end. The Charizard, however, was tricky; it being able to fly gave it a great deal more maneuverability and evasion. I had to focus and wait for just the right moment.
His last Pokémon was the final Kanto starter, a Venusaur. I whittled it down to near fainting with an Earthquake; it stole some of my HP; lather, rinse, repeat. In the end, I got lucky with a very well placed hit, taking it down.
During the whole battle, I could sense the cold getting to Wingman. His cast didn't have any warm covers, and the jabs of the cold air were able to penetrate it. But once the battle was over, I rushed to his side and did my best to shield him from the cold. Caroline was already standing by him, huddling for warmth.
As for the mystery trainer, he revived his Espeon and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a letter of some sort. The envelope was black, and it had a red seal on it. In one smooth motion, he tossed the letter with amazing speed at us. I snatched it before it could hit Wingman and stared at the trainer. He stared back, his cold gaze once more boring through me. Then his Espeon began glowing, and we were gone.
I knew that we were being teleported somewhere, but I did not know where. When we got there, we recognized it as Wingman's house. After settling back in and warming up, Wingman and Caroline told Mrs. Walker (Wingman's mom) about what happened.
Oh, before I forget, I learned that Wingman's real name is Matthew Walker. I remember she mentioned something about an older brother who had gone training with a Beldum he got from some professor by the name of Oak. Nothing amazing about it, just found it noteworthy.
When they got to the letter, I put it on the table and Mrs. Walker ripped it open. Inside was a short note and a pair of tickets for a luxury cruise ship to a place they called 'Hoenn'. Caroline read the note aloud.
"'You earned these. Congratulations, strong trainer.' That's it?" she said. "Not even a name? How odd."
"Well, I ain't turning down free cruise tickets!" Wingman declared. "And who knows, this Hoenn place could be cool."
And it was settled, once again due to Wingman's extreme stubborn-ness. In three days time, we'll be leaving Vermillion City on a cruise ship to Hoenn. I can't help but say I'm gonna miss Kanto. I've got a few things to wrap up before we leave, so I'll update when we're in Hoenn. So this is sayonara, Kanto and Johto. Next stop, Hoenn!
