- 20
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Age 39
- Seen Apr 28, 2009
Hey all, I'm new to the Pokecommunity. I've been on Serebii for awhile now, and since a couple of my favorite authors from there have posted their stuff here as well, I figured I'd do the same. Since the story is up to nineteen chapters at the time I'm typing this, I'm just going to post one chapter here a week until it's fully caught up. So, here it is:
_______________________
Mastering a New Start
Overview:
Anyway, this is a 'zapped to the pokemon world' type fanfic, but I'm going to do my best to make sure this comes out both believable and interesting.
The only piece of background info that isn't really mentioned in the story, I think, is that this fic happens about ten years after the events of the Pokemon cartoon.
Last Update:
8/28/08: Chapter 10 has been posted. Enjoy! In addition, the chapter links have all been posted, and I've put down a spot for all of the completed chapters that have not been posted here yet.
Rating:
PG-13 for violence, blood, and minor gore. Will most likely be cranked up to R in later chapters, but I'll be sure to give a warning before things get that far.
Chapter Listing:
Chapter 1: What Just Happened?
Chapter 2: What Do I Do Now?
Chapter 3: When Do I Start?
Chapter 4: What am I Doing?
Chapter 5: Is This How It's Done?
Chapter 6: What Did He Call Me?
Chapter 7: What are You Looking For?
Chapter 8: What's Really Important?
Chapter 9: Heroic or Stupid? The Bold Rescue!
Chapter 10: Lost in the Darkness! Journey Through Mt. Moon.
Chapter 11: ???
Chapter 12: ???
Chapter 13: ???
Chapter 14: ???
Chapter 15: ???
Chapter 16: ???
Chapter 17: ???
Chapter 18: ???
Chapter 19: ???
Chapter 20: ???
Chapter 21: ???
Chapter 22: ???
Chapter 23: ???
Chapter 24: ???
___________________________
A key was hurriedly pushed into an ignition. An engine burst to life as the strip of metal was turned. A pair of hazel eyes glanced into a rearview mirror, partially hidden under a crown of messily spiked dark brown hair. A thin mouth framed by a neatly-trimmed goatee formed itself into a grin as the vehicle was filled with the sound of blaring rock music. A head faintly bobbed to the rhythm of the song as the car pulled out of a parking lot and onto the adjacent road.
Mark didn't hate his job by any means; after all, working at the local GameStop was one of the most enjoyable jobs he ever had. However, being on a schedule had just never completely agreed with him; so he relished the points where there was no longer some sort of plan requiring him to be somewhere and he could do what he wanted.
He lazily glanced from lane to lane, keeping track of the various vehicles about him, as he kept the car moving in the direction of his apartment. His thoughts, searching about for the first thing that should be done upon arriving home, were broken when a small boy ran into the road not far in front of him. His features did little more than twist into a frown when his foot steadily pushed down the brake, slowing down the car enough that it came to a stop shortly before it could reach the petrified kid.
Mark impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while fighting the urge to glare at the child, who had most likely been scared enough for the time being. When his path was vacated once more, Mark gave an exasperated sigh, wondering what that kid could've been thinking when he continued on.
Mark perused the features of his apartment upon entering it. A small number of weapons adorned the area, including a long broadsword held onto a wooden plaque hanging from the wall, a bo-staff leaning in a corner, numerous chips and scratches indicating it was well-used, and, his personal favorite, a gleaming, black-handled katana held on a mount over his entertainment center. Granted, he wasn't formally trained in the use of most of them, but he enjoyed collecting them.
A frame on the wall held a certificate indicating his being recognized as a green belt in Seibukan Karate. Mark often regretted the fact that he no longer lived near enough to his instructor to train with him more than occasionally anymore, but he felt there wasn't much that could be done about that at the moment.
An entertainment center was filled with a respectably sized television, a DVD player surrounded by cases containing numerous action and comedy movies, and a number of gaming systems. Old school gaming classics and new gaming technology continuously warred for his attention, and he had yet to decide which he preferred.
Mark ignored all these for the time being, his athletic form striding towards his bedroom instead. His quest to check his e-mail was cut short as his vision was suddenly filled by a bright light that was just short of blinding. His eyes swept from side to side, but were unable to distinguish anything from the rudely persistent glow.
After a few moments, a small shadow suddenly appeared in the center of Mark's vision, but vanished just as quickly. As if the shadow itself triggered it, the light began to dim, giving way to a blurred wave of brown and green. Mark immediately felt the unmistakable sensation of the spring sun's gentle warmth on him, followed by the equally distinctive sense of a light breeze against his left side.
After rubbing his eyes, Mark found the green and brown haze replaced by a lush forest. Quick jerks of his head in every direction confirmed that he was at the edge of this forest, and that he was standing next to a road that seemed to separate the forest from a grassy field that stretched out to the edge of his vision.
After calming himself as much as he could, Mark soon found himself scratching his head. Spending one moment in your own apartment and the next in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere didn't really strike him as something that happens in a typical day. He considered that it could have been a dream, but he dismissed the notion, sincerely hoping that he could not actually fall asleep while he was wide awake and in the middle of walking somewhere.
The futile attempts to determine how and why he was in his current location were quickly abandoned in favor of thoughts that concerned what actions he should take now. After several minutes of deliberation, finding civilization found its way to the top of the 'to-do' list, and the dirt road he was standing next to seemed a convenient way to do so. After a moment, Mark decided to go down the road stretching to his right, and he set off with his eyes continuing to glace from side to side, taking long, leisurely strides in concession of what promised to be a long trek.
Hours seemed to go by, and the landscape continued its stubborn refusal to display any sign of human habitation. Frustrated thoughts didn't have a chance to enter Mark's mind, as a rustle in the bushes interrupted them just as they were about to form. Not knowing what might happen to live in this area, Mark jumped into a fighting stance; his right leg moved to point forward, his left leg swung back to form a ninety degree angle to it, and his fists positioned themselves in front of him.
His battle-ready glare was met by a brown-feathered bird that launched itself out of the bushes toward an area somewhere to his left. It was about the size of a chicken, with a short, rounded beak and stripes of tan feathers over the eyes giving an impression of eyebrows. The eyes themselves were its most shocking feature, looking more like they would belong on a human rather than a bird.
A second rustle caught Mark's attention, this one coming from near the tops of the trees. A second, slightly larger creature shot from the green, but this one had a clearly aggressive look about it. Its jagged sharp beak led the red feathered form's flight in the direction of the first bird.
Acting from a sudden instinct, Mark quickly spotted a branch lying on the ground, picked it up, and swung it into the speeding bird's side, sending it crashing to the ground before the pursuer could catch up with the pursued. The animal slid to a stop just short of the nearby road, unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of its chest indicating that it was still breathing. Mark let the branch fall from his hand and carefully made his way to the first creature he had seen, which was now lying on the ground as well.
Though he didn't hate animals by any means, Mark didn't really care much about them either, and he surprised himself by deciding to pick up the feathered oddity and inspect it for injuries. Satisfied that it seemed to be tired more than anything else, Mark returned to the road with the creature cradled in his arms.
"Don't suppose you happen to know where the nearest sign of civilization is, do you?" Mark whispered. He stiffened as the bird's strange eyes opened up at this; it then looked around and, with a faint coo, craned its neck in the direction Mark had been going before settling limply back into his arms.
Mark's right eyebrow jerked up at the unexpected answer to his rhetorical question. "Oookaaay, that was kinda weird," he stated, more to himself than anything. The bird didn't seem to have a response to that, so he relaxed, dismissing its earlier motion as at least harmless before continuing on.
The trek continued on, and Mark soon found himself ascending as the road took an uphill turn. Exhaustion began to set in, and Mark could feel his energy slip away with every step as every new movement felt more and more forced. Resigned to what was surely going to be another view of uninhabited fields and forest, Mark stared over the crest of the hill once he had reached it.
Instead, a small village presented itself; it was mostly a gathering of small homes and shops, but there were a few large, sprawling buildings lying at the outskirts of the town. Not willing to stand in one place and study the scenery any longer, Mark raced down the hill as quickly as he could without dislodging his equally exhausted cargo.
As the wildlife on either side of the road gave way to buildings, Mark anxiously searched about in a faint hope that he could find someone who could tell him at least where he was. His efforts were soon rewarded as a man wearing a red polo shirt and tan slacks found himself in Mark's path. With a great deal of effort, Mark slowed himself to a stop before a collision, and additional exertion held the still resting bird back from an unwanted flight.
"Sorry… about that… sir", Mark gasped in between difficult breaths. As the shock dissipated, it suddenly occurred to him that starting a conversation with a bombardment of questions involving what kind of place he was in and what was he doing there might not be the best way to create a first impression. Scrambling about for something to say, he suddenly remembered his passenger.
"I, ah, found this… bird… out in the forest a distance from here; is there anywhere around here it can be checked for injuries?" As the words left his mouth, Mark silently berated himself for how idiotic that had to have sounded. The stranger on the other hand, and much to Mark's surprise, seemed to accept the question as being perfectly normal.
"Of course, just follow me and I'll bring you to the Lab; they'll make sure that Pidgey is as good as new before you know it," was the answer Mark received, delivered by a kind, yet professional voice.
So this type of bird was called a Pidgey; that sounded familiar somehow. Mark inspected his new guide; he was clearly on the older side, with grey hair that was rapidly approaching white that had been groomed so it would sweep to the left side of his head. Surprisingly youthful brown eyes peered out of a face slightly lined with age. Most striking was the air of authority he had about him, as if the man's mere presence could easily command the respect of nearly anyone around him, even if the man himself didn't choose to.
After a short period of walking, the two men and the Pidgey came to one of the larger buildings Mark had noticed upon first spotting the town. It struck Mark as a particularly inviting place, the warm sunlight brightening its off-white walls and reflecting from its clean windows. As the small group casually made its way through the glass doors, Mark realized that he had completely forgotten to introduce himself.
"Oh, by the way, my name is Mark Rowley. I appreciate you taking the time to bring me here." Mark's voice came forth in his most sincerely grateful tone, and the stranger seemed to pick up on this, realizing that this man seemed to have even more pressing concerns behind his worried look than an injured animal.
"Don't worry about it; I was on my way here when you found me anyway. My name is Samuel Oak."
Mark briefly paused at that; Pidgey, Oak, the names reminded him of something, but the more he mulled it over, the more elusive the answers seemed to become. He shook his head firmly, as if trying to jar the solution from his mind by physical force. The shock of what's happening was affecting his thinking, he decided; he'd have to calm down if he was going to figure out anything about what's going on.
The inside of the lab matched Mark's expectations; his vision was dominated by diligently cleaned lab tables and various pieces of equipment, though the latter were completely unfamiliar to him. Two people were waiting for them, or more precisely, waiting for Oak, considering the inquiring looks made in his direction.
The man of the duo appeared to be in his mid-twenties, wearing a buttoned white lab coat that draped from his neck to his ankles. Untidy black hair framed the thoughtful look on his face, coming down to just above his shoulders. The young woman was dressed in a cliché nurse's outfit, complete with a cap marked by a red cross crowning her pink-haired head.
"Hello, you two; Nurse Joy, we have a Pidgey here you might want to take a look at," came from Oak, snapping Mark to attention as he held out the bird for the woman to take.
Nurse Joy stepped forward, gently lifted the injured avian from Mark's arms, and soothingly spoke in a low voice, "Relax, I'll make sure your pokemon is just fine." At this, Mark visibly froze.
Pokemon; now THAT one he recognized immediately. One would be hard pressed to find someone who had Mark's interest in video games who hadn't at least heard of the fictional creatures. Apparently, wherever he was now, they actually existed in reality.
Joy had already turned around, and didn't notice Mark's stunned reaction as she strode from the room. Oak took the opportunity to address him, failing to catch his attention until he cleared his throat exceptionally loudly. Mark blinked as he jerked his head in the direction of the sound.
"Sorry about that, but I believe there is a little more worrying you than a tired Pidgey." Mark sighed at the authoritive tone, unsure of how to proceed. After a few moments' hesitation, he decided the direct option would be the best.
"Okay, I'm not quite sure how to say this and make it sound believable, so I'm just going to say it; I'm not from this world, and pokemon don't exist in the reality I come from. I was minding my own business in my home, when I suddenly was caught in a bright light, and I wound up in a forest a ways out of this town. I followed a road here hoping to find people, and, now that I have, I really have no idea what to do now."
The two listening men stared blankly; whatever they had been expecting, that definitely wasn't it. The blank looks quickly gave way to ones of deep concentration, and a few moments passed before Oak and the lab coat clad man shared a look that seemed to indicate similar thoughts. Oak spoke again, in a tone that almost seemed to show suppressed excitement:
"When you were surrounded by that light, did you see anything else before you found yourself in the forest?"
Mark took a moment to register the fact that they seemed to accept the story without any further convincing before he recalled that he was being asked a question. He racked his brain for a moment, sifting through his recent memories before a relevant image presented itself to him.
"That's right, I did see a faint shadow in the light for a few seconds; the forest appeared just as the shadow went away." Mark's delight was apparent in his voice, though that gave way to confusion when the man in the lab coat quickly rushed toward what appeared to be a computer. Oak remained where he was, apparently taking it upon himself to explain this latest development.
"You see, over the past few years, scientists have begun to theorize that there are a number of universes alternate to our own. We believe that certain pokemon may be able to travel between them at will, but no one has yet to find any proof of this. Professor Sketchit and I believe that the shadow you saw may have been a pokemon with this very ability."
Mark slowly rubbed his forehead, as though the motion would allow the explanation to sink in more thoroughly. Sure, he was familiar with the concept of multiple universes, but he heard of them in movies and books, not in serious scientific research, with the possibility that they might actually exist. Then again, there weren't many other stories that could explain how he suddenly ended up in a world populated by video game characters. For now, he'd trust this explanation, though there was still one thing he didn't understand; he voiced his concern:
"Why me, though? Why now? What would make this pokemon suddenly decide that I should come to this particular universe?"
Oak closed his eyes and shook his head. "That, I don't know. Sometimes, a pokemon's intentions can be near impossible to figure out. The best chance you have of finding an answer to those questions is actually finding the one that brought you here and asking it yourself." His tone came out both apologetic and frustrated, clearly not enjoying the feeling of not having an answer available when one was needed.
"I don't suppose there's a way for me get back?" Mark inquired, already dreading the confirmation he knew he would receive from the answer. Oak shook his head again slightly before speaking:
"Many scientists are working on projects meant to allow travel between universes, but at the current rate, it'll be several years before any of them are at a point where they can be tested."
Mark deflated at this, sinking into a nearby chair with his head hung in defeat. He squeezed his eyes shut; somehow hoping he could open them and simply find that he had, in fact, fallen and this whole experience was really nothing more than a dream. His attempts to wish himself away from this strange place were interrupted by a warm hand on his shoulder and a reassuring voice:
"You can stay here as long as it takes," Oak stated. "In Pallet Town, we take care of those who need it, and I can't think of a situation where one would require help more than being in a strange place with nothing but the clothes on one's back." Mark's reply came forth with nothing but sincerity lacing his words:
"Thank you."
______________________________
Author's Notes:
During previous postings, I recieved feedback noting that Mark accepted his sitation rather easily. Anyway, it's not so much that he is accepting it, as it is he realizes there is at least some chance that what he is seeing might actually be happening, and sitting next to a road in the middle of nowhere not accepting where he is may not be a very good idea.
It was also pointed out that Oak and Tracey accepted the story a little too easily, which is true, as the story mentions, but I like to think I have a decent explanation for that, too. After all, in their world, pokemon are such an integral part in their lives I'd imagine a story about a world where pokemon don't exist would seem too crazy for someone to just make up.
This chapter was written nearly a year ago and was one of my first real attempts at writing, so I like to think that I've gotten better since then.
_______________________
Mastering a New Start
Overview:
Anyway, this is a 'zapped to the pokemon world' type fanfic, but I'm going to do my best to make sure this comes out both believable and interesting.
The only piece of background info that isn't really mentioned in the story, I think, is that this fic happens about ten years after the events of the Pokemon cartoon.
Last Update:
8/28/08: Chapter 10 has been posted. Enjoy! In addition, the chapter links have all been posted, and I've put down a spot for all of the completed chapters that have not been posted here yet.
Rating:
PG-13 for violence, blood, and minor gore. Will most likely be cranked up to R in later chapters, but I'll be sure to give a warning before things get that far.
Chapter Listing:
Chapter 1: What Just Happened?
Chapter 2: What Do I Do Now?
Chapter 3: When Do I Start?
Chapter 4: What am I Doing?
Chapter 5: Is This How It's Done?
Chapter 6: What Did He Call Me?
Chapter 7: What are You Looking For?
Chapter 8: What's Really Important?
Chapter 9: Heroic or Stupid? The Bold Rescue!
Chapter 10: Lost in the Darkness! Journey Through Mt. Moon.
Chapter 11: ???
Chapter 12: ???
Chapter 13: ???
Chapter 14: ???
Chapter 15: ???
Chapter 16: ???
Chapter 17: ???
Chapter 18: ???
Chapter 19: ???
Chapter 20: ???
Chapter 21: ???
Chapter 22: ???
Chapter 23: ???
Chapter 24: ???
___________________________
Mastering a New Start
Chapter 1: What Just Happened?
Chapter 1: What Just Happened?
A key was hurriedly pushed into an ignition. An engine burst to life as the strip of metal was turned. A pair of hazel eyes glanced into a rearview mirror, partially hidden under a crown of messily spiked dark brown hair. A thin mouth framed by a neatly-trimmed goatee formed itself into a grin as the vehicle was filled with the sound of blaring rock music. A head faintly bobbed to the rhythm of the song as the car pulled out of a parking lot and onto the adjacent road.
Mark didn't hate his job by any means; after all, working at the local GameStop was one of the most enjoyable jobs he ever had. However, being on a schedule had just never completely agreed with him; so he relished the points where there was no longer some sort of plan requiring him to be somewhere and he could do what he wanted.
He lazily glanced from lane to lane, keeping track of the various vehicles about him, as he kept the car moving in the direction of his apartment. His thoughts, searching about for the first thing that should be done upon arriving home, were broken when a small boy ran into the road not far in front of him. His features did little more than twist into a frown when his foot steadily pushed down the brake, slowing down the car enough that it came to a stop shortly before it could reach the petrified kid.
Mark impatiently drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while fighting the urge to glare at the child, who had most likely been scared enough for the time being. When his path was vacated once more, Mark gave an exasperated sigh, wondering what that kid could've been thinking when he continued on.
Mark perused the features of his apartment upon entering it. A small number of weapons adorned the area, including a long broadsword held onto a wooden plaque hanging from the wall, a bo-staff leaning in a corner, numerous chips and scratches indicating it was well-used, and, his personal favorite, a gleaming, black-handled katana held on a mount over his entertainment center. Granted, he wasn't formally trained in the use of most of them, but he enjoyed collecting them.
A frame on the wall held a certificate indicating his being recognized as a green belt in Seibukan Karate. Mark often regretted the fact that he no longer lived near enough to his instructor to train with him more than occasionally anymore, but he felt there wasn't much that could be done about that at the moment.
An entertainment center was filled with a respectably sized television, a DVD player surrounded by cases containing numerous action and comedy movies, and a number of gaming systems. Old school gaming classics and new gaming technology continuously warred for his attention, and he had yet to decide which he preferred.
Mark ignored all these for the time being, his athletic form striding towards his bedroom instead. His quest to check his e-mail was cut short as his vision was suddenly filled by a bright light that was just short of blinding. His eyes swept from side to side, but were unable to distinguish anything from the rudely persistent glow.
After a few moments, a small shadow suddenly appeared in the center of Mark's vision, but vanished just as quickly. As if the shadow itself triggered it, the light began to dim, giving way to a blurred wave of brown and green. Mark immediately felt the unmistakable sensation of the spring sun's gentle warmth on him, followed by the equally distinctive sense of a light breeze against his left side.
After rubbing his eyes, Mark found the green and brown haze replaced by a lush forest. Quick jerks of his head in every direction confirmed that he was at the edge of this forest, and that he was standing next to a road that seemed to separate the forest from a grassy field that stretched out to the edge of his vision.
After calming himself as much as he could, Mark soon found himself scratching his head. Spending one moment in your own apartment and the next in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere didn't really strike him as something that happens in a typical day. He considered that it could have been a dream, but he dismissed the notion, sincerely hoping that he could not actually fall asleep while he was wide awake and in the middle of walking somewhere.
The futile attempts to determine how and why he was in his current location were quickly abandoned in favor of thoughts that concerned what actions he should take now. After several minutes of deliberation, finding civilization found its way to the top of the 'to-do' list, and the dirt road he was standing next to seemed a convenient way to do so. After a moment, Mark decided to go down the road stretching to his right, and he set off with his eyes continuing to glace from side to side, taking long, leisurely strides in concession of what promised to be a long trek.
Hours seemed to go by, and the landscape continued its stubborn refusal to display any sign of human habitation. Frustrated thoughts didn't have a chance to enter Mark's mind, as a rustle in the bushes interrupted them just as they were about to form. Not knowing what might happen to live in this area, Mark jumped into a fighting stance; his right leg moved to point forward, his left leg swung back to form a ninety degree angle to it, and his fists positioned themselves in front of him.
His battle-ready glare was met by a brown-feathered bird that launched itself out of the bushes toward an area somewhere to his left. It was about the size of a chicken, with a short, rounded beak and stripes of tan feathers over the eyes giving an impression of eyebrows. The eyes themselves were its most shocking feature, looking more like they would belong on a human rather than a bird.
A second rustle caught Mark's attention, this one coming from near the tops of the trees. A second, slightly larger creature shot from the green, but this one had a clearly aggressive look about it. Its jagged sharp beak led the red feathered form's flight in the direction of the first bird.
Acting from a sudden instinct, Mark quickly spotted a branch lying on the ground, picked it up, and swung it into the speeding bird's side, sending it crashing to the ground before the pursuer could catch up with the pursued. The animal slid to a stop just short of the nearby road, unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of its chest indicating that it was still breathing. Mark let the branch fall from his hand and carefully made his way to the first creature he had seen, which was now lying on the ground as well.
Though he didn't hate animals by any means, Mark didn't really care much about them either, and he surprised himself by deciding to pick up the feathered oddity and inspect it for injuries. Satisfied that it seemed to be tired more than anything else, Mark returned to the road with the creature cradled in his arms.
"Don't suppose you happen to know where the nearest sign of civilization is, do you?" Mark whispered. He stiffened as the bird's strange eyes opened up at this; it then looked around and, with a faint coo, craned its neck in the direction Mark had been going before settling limply back into his arms.
Mark's right eyebrow jerked up at the unexpected answer to his rhetorical question. "Oookaaay, that was kinda weird," he stated, more to himself than anything. The bird didn't seem to have a response to that, so he relaxed, dismissing its earlier motion as at least harmless before continuing on.
The trek continued on, and Mark soon found himself ascending as the road took an uphill turn. Exhaustion began to set in, and Mark could feel his energy slip away with every step as every new movement felt more and more forced. Resigned to what was surely going to be another view of uninhabited fields and forest, Mark stared over the crest of the hill once he had reached it.
Instead, a small village presented itself; it was mostly a gathering of small homes and shops, but there were a few large, sprawling buildings lying at the outskirts of the town. Not willing to stand in one place and study the scenery any longer, Mark raced down the hill as quickly as he could without dislodging his equally exhausted cargo.
As the wildlife on either side of the road gave way to buildings, Mark anxiously searched about in a faint hope that he could find someone who could tell him at least where he was. His efforts were soon rewarded as a man wearing a red polo shirt and tan slacks found himself in Mark's path. With a great deal of effort, Mark slowed himself to a stop before a collision, and additional exertion held the still resting bird back from an unwanted flight.
"Sorry… about that… sir", Mark gasped in between difficult breaths. As the shock dissipated, it suddenly occurred to him that starting a conversation with a bombardment of questions involving what kind of place he was in and what was he doing there might not be the best way to create a first impression. Scrambling about for something to say, he suddenly remembered his passenger.
"I, ah, found this… bird… out in the forest a distance from here; is there anywhere around here it can be checked for injuries?" As the words left his mouth, Mark silently berated himself for how idiotic that had to have sounded. The stranger on the other hand, and much to Mark's surprise, seemed to accept the question as being perfectly normal.
"Of course, just follow me and I'll bring you to the Lab; they'll make sure that Pidgey is as good as new before you know it," was the answer Mark received, delivered by a kind, yet professional voice.
So this type of bird was called a Pidgey; that sounded familiar somehow. Mark inspected his new guide; he was clearly on the older side, with grey hair that was rapidly approaching white that had been groomed so it would sweep to the left side of his head. Surprisingly youthful brown eyes peered out of a face slightly lined with age. Most striking was the air of authority he had about him, as if the man's mere presence could easily command the respect of nearly anyone around him, even if the man himself didn't choose to.
After a short period of walking, the two men and the Pidgey came to one of the larger buildings Mark had noticed upon first spotting the town. It struck Mark as a particularly inviting place, the warm sunlight brightening its off-white walls and reflecting from its clean windows. As the small group casually made its way through the glass doors, Mark realized that he had completely forgotten to introduce himself.
"Oh, by the way, my name is Mark Rowley. I appreciate you taking the time to bring me here." Mark's voice came forth in his most sincerely grateful tone, and the stranger seemed to pick up on this, realizing that this man seemed to have even more pressing concerns behind his worried look than an injured animal.
"Don't worry about it; I was on my way here when you found me anyway. My name is Samuel Oak."
Mark briefly paused at that; Pidgey, Oak, the names reminded him of something, but the more he mulled it over, the more elusive the answers seemed to become. He shook his head firmly, as if trying to jar the solution from his mind by physical force. The shock of what's happening was affecting his thinking, he decided; he'd have to calm down if he was going to figure out anything about what's going on.
The inside of the lab matched Mark's expectations; his vision was dominated by diligently cleaned lab tables and various pieces of equipment, though the latter were completely unfamiliar to him. Two people were waiting for them, or more precisely, waiting for Oak, considering the inquiring looks made in his direction.
The man of the duo appeared to be in his mid-twenties, wearing a buttoned white lab coat that draped from his neck to his ankles. Untidy black hair framed the thoughtful look on his face, coming down to just above his shoulders. The young woman was dressed in a cliché nurse's outfit, complete with a cap marked by a red cross crowning her pink-haired head.
"Hello, you two; Nurse Joy, we have a Pidgey here you might want to take a look at," came from Oak, snapping Mark to attention as he held out the bird for the woman to take.
Nurse Joy stepped forward, gently lifted the injured avian from Mark's arms, and soothingly spoke in a low voice, "Relax, I'll make sure your pokemon is just fine." At this, Mark visibly froze.
Pokemon; now THAT one he recognized immediately. One would be hard pressed to find someone who had Mark's interest in video games who hadn't at least heard of the fictional creatures. Apparently, wherever he was now, they actually existed in reality.
Joy had already turned around, and didn't notice Mark's stunned reaction as she strode from the room. Oak took the opportunity to address him, failing to catch his attention until he cleared his throat exceptionally loudly. Mark blinked as he jerked his head in the direction of the sound.
"Sorry about that, but I believe there is a little more worrying you than a tired Pidgey." Mark sighed at the authoritive tone, unsure of how to proceed. After a few moments' hesitation, he decided the direct option would be the best.
"Okay, I'm not quite sure how to say this and make it sound believable, so I'm just going to say it; I'm not from this world, and pokemon don't exist in the reality I come from. I was minding my own business in my home, when I suddenly was caught in a bright light, and I wound up in a forest a ways out of this town. I followed a road here hoping to find people, and, now that I have, I really have no idea what to do now."
The two listening men stared blankly; whatever they had been expecting, that definitely wasn't it. The blank looks quickly gave way to ones of deep concentration, and a few moments passed before Oak and the lab coat clad man shared a look that seemed to indicate similar thoughts. Oak spoke again, in a tone that almost seemed to show suppressed excitement:
"When you were surrounded by that light, did you see anything else before you found yourself in the forest?"
Mark took a moment to register the fact that they seemed to accept the story without any further convincing before he recalled that he was being asked a question. He racked his brain for a moment, sifting through his recent memories before a relevant image presented itself to him.
"That's right, I did see a faint shadow in the light for a few seconds; the forest appeared just as the shadow went away." Mark's delight was apparent in his voice, though that gave way to confusion when the man in the lab coat quickly rushed toward what appeared to be a computer. Oak remained where he was, apparently taking it upon himself to explain this latest development.
"You see, over the past few years, scientists have begun to theorize that there are a number of universes alternate to our own. We believe that certain pokemon may be able to travel between them at will, but no one has yet to find any proof of this. Professor Sketchit and I believe that the shadow you saw may have been a pokemon with this very ability."
Mark slowly rubbed his forehead, as though the motion would allow the explanation to sink in more thoroughly. Sure, he was familiar with the concept of multiple universes, but he heard of them in movies and books, not in serious scientific research, with the possibility that they might actually exist. Then again, there weren't many other stories that could explain how he suddenly ended up in a world populated by video game characters. For now, he'd trust this explanation, though there was still one thing he didn't understand; he voiced his concern:
"Why me, though? Why now? What would make this pokemon suddenly decide that I should come to this particular universe?"
Oak closed his eyes and shook his head. "That, I don't know. Sometimes, a pokemon's intentions can be near impossible to figure out. The best chance you have of finding an answer to those questions is actually finding the one that brought you here and asking it yourself." His tone came out both apologetic and frustrated, clearly not enjoying the feeling of not having an answer available when one was needed.
"I don't suppose there's a way for me get back?" Mark inquired, already dreading the confirmation he knew he would receive from the answer. Oak shook his head again slightly before speaking:
"Many scientists are working on projects meant to allow travel between universes, but at the current rate, it'll be several years before any of them are at a point where they can be tested."
Mark deflated at this, sinking into a nearby chair with his head hung in defeat. He squeezed his eyes shut; somehow hoping he could open them and simply find that he had, in fact, fallen and this whole experience was really nothing more than a dream. His attempts to wish himself away from this strange place were interrupted by a warm hand on his shoulder and a reassuring voice:
"You can stay here as long as it takes," Oak stated. "In Pallet Town, we take care of those who need it, and I can't think of a situation where one would require help more than being in a strange place with nothing but the clothes on one's back." Mark's reply came forth with nothing but sincerity lacing his words:
"Thank you."
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Author's Notes:
During previous postings, I recieved feedback noting that Mark accepted his sitation rather easily. Anyway, it's not so much that he is accepting it, as it is he realizes there is at least some chance that what he is seeing might actually be happening, and sitting next to a road in the middle of nowhere not accepting where he is may not be a very good idea.
It was also pointed out that Oak and Tracey accepted the story a little too easily, which is true, as the story mentions, but I like to think I have a decent explanation for that, too. After all, in their world, pokemon are such an integral part in their lives I'd imagine a story about a world where pokemon don't exist would seem too crazy for someone to just make up.
This chapter was written nearly a year ago and was one of my first real attempts at writing, so I like to think that I've gotten better since then.
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