Arctic Master
The Ice trainer
- 22
- Posts
- 16
- Years
- Right out of your arm's length. Don't bother tryin
- Seen Feb 4, 2009
This submission is rated R for some of it's violence and blood. The cursing is censored out, but still can be translated. If you're a minority, under 16 at the least, please do NOT read this story. This is a forewarning.
All comments will be on the second post.
Chapter 1: The beginning of a new, and dangerous journey
In a room of an ordinary, middle-classed home, a black, digital alarm clock was buzzing, loudly, to wake up an average kid, in his bed. The light from the window was also shining down on him; all the elements against the kid, who was trying to turn over and go back to sleep. The kid reached for his alarm clock on his nightstand, having tried to find the "snooze" button. He gave up and ended up throwing the alarm at the wall, breaking it, but having stopped the racket being made. He rolled over, to go back to sleep, but then sprang up, almost out of his bed; having remembered that that day was an important day, for him. He would be getting his first Pokémon.
"Wha- I'm up! I'm up!" The kid grunted, loudly, having pulled himself up, from his lying down position, to sit up on his bed.
The kid was only fourteen-years old, a late bloomer considering what year he's finally getting his first Pokémon; had been waiting for this day for years. He had to finish up middle school, before he could set off for this day.
Being that he just woke up, his hair was a mess and in need of a brush. His brown eyes blinked, tiredly, as they adjusted to the new day. He was in his white T-shirt, and underwear, as he pulled off his covers, to place his feet on the floor. Though, it wasn't floor he had been stepping on.
He blinks twice, to adjust his eyes to the new morning, and to observe what was in his junky room. There were clothes everywhere. There was so much, the floor was buried from all the linen, cotton, polyester and all other kinds of fabrics the clothes were made of. Though, being lazy, he used this as his advantage.
Being partially awake at the time, he slipped on his dark blue jeans he had been stepping on, zipped up his fly and pulled himself up. He took off some of the socks that were hanging on the antenna of his TV and put them on. At the foot of his bed, was the kid's hamper; which the kid then dug into, for his shirt. After a few seconds of searching, he pulled out his army fatigued shirt, with the word "ARMY" imprinted on the front. He put that on, knowing he didn't match, but didn't care; the excitement of getting his first Pokémon now getting to him.
The kid figured he needed something to cover up his mismatching clothes, and spotted his jacket, hanging from the doorknob. He quickly snatched the jacket from the doorknob, threw it up and then let gravity take hold, as he slipped in from the sleeves. He was nearly completely dressed, but saw that his room was messy, as it always was. As a last token of appreciation, for his step-parents, he took all of his clothes and shoved it in the hamper, clearly overflowing it, some of the clothes falling down, near the hamper. The room looked much neater, but the rug looked like it needed a vacuum. The kid shrugs, figuring his step-parents would do that later, when he left.
"At least they can see my floor and dresser top..." the kid said to himself. He shrugged, caring less; he getting his first Pokémon was all he really cared about.
As he exited his room, he jumped into his shoes, which were at the foot of his bedroom door, and tied them. He wandered through the hallways and reached his living room, he saw his mother, knitting, while the father was reading the newspaper. Both of them were by the un-lit fireplace, while the light from the window in front of them seeped through the window shutters. Arctic couldn't get a clear view of them, being that their large chairs were blocking their appearances but he could see his blue, three-pocketed bag, resting near the front door. He was about to go get it but had, swiftly, turned back around at the corner, avoiding his stepmother's peripheral vision, as she turned, slightly, to see who it was.
Not wanting to be spotted, by his parents, the kid stopped to plot. I don't want any of that "We'll miss you" crap, or "Make me proud, son" speeches. I just wanna get the heck outta here! the kid thought.
He looked at his two stepparents, who still appeared to be unwary of their step-son's presence. The kid had planned to make a run for it. He took some deep breaths, as he counted in his head when to go, then ran for the door. He unlocked the lock, then turned the deadbolt over and pulled at the knob with a quick turn; though the door only cracked a little bit, to his freedom, being that the chain was on. He had overlooked the chain on the door, and before he could close the door and pull it off, he knew it was too late.
His stepmother hadn't had to say a word, but merely cleared her throat, having demanded attention. The kid stopped trying to make a hasty getaway, as he loosened his grip on the doorknob. He whimpered like a dog, a bit, and then went back to kiss his stepmother and manly hug his stepfather, good-bye for the time being. The kid grabbed his bag and stepped out the door, closing it behind him, and then snapped his fingers, as he stepped down from his front porch. Not like he could've avoided them, anyway. They knew him all too well.
*********
The kid took his time, as he headed for the laboratory where inexperienced Pokémon for beginner trainers were being distributed. He knew he had plenty of time to get there, being that he turned his alarm on, a good half-hour early; having hoped that he'd get up, before his parents did. As he walked down the road, going down a familiar road with the same houses, big and small, some with square or triangular roofs, others with narrow or wide walkways to their front porches; the kid looks for a certain house.
When he found the house, he turned to it and observed it, as if he had never seen it before. It was larger than most of the houses around, though that being because it was a two-family, two story house. It was a brown color, though a fresh coat of paint was recently put on it. A window was broken on the first floor but that was recently done yesterday, with a baseball.
Though, as the kid waits for his friend, a clatter arose, from the side of the house. Something was going through the garbage cans, as a few of them were overturned and a small, odd, dark blue Pokémon, of a sort, was inside one of the overturned garbage cans, consuming the garbage. The kid could tell who and what it was and who it belonged to, being that that wasn't the first time it had happened.
"Marcus! Munchlax is eating through the garbage!" the kid shouted, to the house. Someone had heard him, and a male's voice shouted back.
"Again?! Munchlax! Get in here! You know not to eat in there!" the voice shouted back.
The Pokémon, obedient to his master, pulled himself out, and revealed himself into the light. It was as small as it looked, being only a measly two feet high, but still a bit chubby. It had two long, but stubby ears, at the very top of its head, with a very round face. Its face was half the color dark blue and the other half, from it's bottom jaw, which two fangs were visible from the bottom, around it's entire lower half of it's head, yellow, which some was also on it's short, stubby neck and in a "drop" shape, on it's chest. The rest of his body, its five-fingered hands and short arms included, was a dark blue, the same color as the top of his head; all except his feet, which were covered by his spiked fur, at the bottom, is also yellow, with three claws for toes.
As it pulled itself out of the garbage can, it let out a large burp, being filled, as it tried to climb back into the window it climbed out of, by stacking up some crates, to level it up to the window. It appeared to be stuck, as it goes through the window, for a minute, then it squeezes through with a "pop" noise, and finally, a thud.
There was a bit of angry shouting, at the kid named Marcus, and at his Munchlax, though both of them were sent out. It was okay, though; they were glad to leave. Marcus was, roughly, the other kid's height and age. He was slightly bigger than the kid, though by width, not by height. Marcus had his long, dyed-green hair in a ponytail, which was originally brown, though his eyes were a lighter shade of green. He appeared to be ready to become a trainer, being that he was wearing a Pokéball holster shirt, over his white T-shirt; or at least he had a place to put all of his Pokéballs. Marcus also wore a pair of brown khaki cargo shorts, which covered more than half of his shin; and below that, on Marcus' feet, he wears a pair of black sneakers, though both sneakers had a red orb on the back of each shoe. Though, apart from the Pokégear, he had on a set of fighting grips, the knuckles of them tipped with leather to make his punches do more damage.
"Ugh..." Marcus groaned, having had probably just woke up and threw on his clothes, "Hello, Avon."
Avon, the kid that had been waiting, and gone through a stunt or two, to try to get past his step-parents, was his name. He's a beginner trainer, looking forward to his first win, and long awaited adventure. And while his straight, stern face was saying otherwise at the time, he had that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. What he didn't know was that what strange things would hit him, next.
Bonk! "Ow!" Avon shouted, being hit over the head, with a strange object. He picks up the metal contraption, that was probably some little kid's bike, "What the hell is this thing?" he asked.
"Who knows?" Marcus said. Avon handed it over to Marcus, who he handed it over to Munchlax, who he handed it over to his stomach. "Crap, I think he might be pooping metal for a week."
*******
"Any ideas on what you might be picking for a starter?" Marcus asked Avon, as the two were on their way down the winding roads to the Pokémon laboratory. The two had already reached the top of a hill, the beige-colored road winding into a descent from a hill, into a thin forest.
"Not a clue. Though, being that we'll both be there early, we can choose whoever we want," Avon said.
"Well, I know I'm getting Charmander."
"But don't you already have a Pokémon? Your Munchlax can be your starter, right?"
"And miss out on an opportunity to get a free Pokémon? I think not!" Munchlax yawns, lazily, as it walked by Marcus' side.
"... Know what? Good point!" Avon raised both of his eyebrows, in shock. Times like those that made him wish he had gotten an egg, when he was seven, and it hatched into something cool. But no, that happened to Marcus, not him. Avon hoped to catch all of his Pokémon, anyway; apart from his first one. He was probably going to pick Squirtle, anyway, being that it was close to his favorite type; that being Ice.
After many winding roads, forests and trees aplenty, the two made it to the laboratory. It was a large, pink colored building, with several windows on the front, a red roof on the top of the building and a thin, yellow windmill, on a white base behind the building. The building was led into welcome with a gray stepping path that was fenced off with a metal gate that was open to new trainers, but only on the road. The greenery wasn't fenced off, on the right side of the building, though was some height off the ground by a cliff, but from the left, the greenery was covered with many bushes and trees, that almost appeared to cover up the sight of the entrance; or at least from where Avon and Marcus approached it.
As they reached the laboratory, they were early, but not early enough. A black, stuck up spiky-haired, tough-looking kid was waiting at the front gates. The guy was leaning back on the gates, wearing a red vest, opened to reveal his muscles; arms crossed, as if he was waiting for the two to arrive. As Avon and Marcus approached the laboratory gates, the bully figure decided to confront them.
"Hey, chumps!" said the kid, "I'm only gonna warn ya once. Once we get in, I'm choosing first."
"On what ground?" Avon asked, "So what if you got here first! Go harass minorities, or something."
"Shut up kid. You're pushing it."
"H-hey! Hey!" called an old man's voice, "There's no need for fighting around here!"
Approaching the road, arms waving by his sides, was a gray-haired Professor of the laboratory. He had on a sheepish smile, quickly approaching the gate and opening it, as he felt that conflict was arising if things weren't broken up.
"Oh shut it, Grandpa!" Jason shouted back.
The old man's voice turned from sheepish to serious, "Now hold it, young man. You should treat your elders with some more respect."
The tough guy scoffed. "Whatever, pops." The kid turned to Avon and Marcus, "As for you two. Big mouth and Knuckles over there."
"We have names, dipstick." Marcus back sassed.
"Whatever. If you pick a fight with me again, I warn you now; ol' timer, there, won't save you..."
The Professor cleared his throat, placing one of his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, "I'm right here, and I can hear you..." the small group walked up the road, toward the laboratory, "I suppose we should get on with the introductions..."
"I'll go first." Marcus said, "Marcus Lamech, previous resident of Johto, but moved to Kanto, about a few years ago. These gloves are not for show."
"Avon Lorain, adopted resident of Kanto," Avon stated rubbing the back of his neck, "I know the region pretty well..."
"Jason Bullard." The bully kid said, "Pick a fight with me and you won't feel your legs afterwards."
"Alright. Marcus, Avon, Jason. I am Professor Oak. I study Pokémon as a profession. People often refer to me as the Po-"
"Okay, that's enough rambling, grandpa!" Jason rudely interrupted.
"... Well, if we may go on..."
The three enter the laboratory and into the lab area. Meanwhile, Munchlax scampered off on his own somewhere and found himself in the break room. There were a few scientists there on break, with some sandwiches and a few goodies on their plates. Munchlax found the opportunity, stole whatever he could get his hands on and stuff into his stomach. The scientists who were on break double-took to their plates, blinking to the disappearance of their food.
Back with Avon and Marcus, the small group was lead to a glass container that opened up at the push of a button.
"Okay, to the three of you, there are the three starter Pokémon; Charmander, Squirtle and Bulbasaur. You may each take only ONE! No being greedy, Jason."
"Oh pipe down, ol' timer! I already know what I want!" Jason shouted at Prof. Oak. He saw what Avon was going for then side-bumped him out of the way, knocking down both him and Marcus in one bump. He swiped the Pokémon that he saw Avon was going for and, as a friendly gesture, showed the turtle Pokémon to Professor Oak. "Say, Oak, I want this one."
"W-what?! But I was gonna get that one!" Avon shouted, shocked.
"Well, at least he stopped calling me those old names..." Oak muttered. He spoke louder, for Jason to hear. "Um, yes, okay. I suppose you can have it."
"Oh come on!!" Avon bellowed, shoulder-tackling Jason, to take his spot in front of Oak. "You saw me about to take that one!"
"Sorry, Avon, looks like you'll have to take another one..."
"But, Marcus is going for Charmander. That means..."
Professor Oak shut his eyes, and made a pouting gesture, "Looks like you'll have to take Bulbasaur."
Avon slumped down, on his back and groaned. He could hear Jason laughing as he walked out the front door. He muttered a curse to Jason, under his breath, as he took Bulbasaur.
"Hmm... Jason walked out so quickly, he forgot his Pokédex and Pokéballs..."
"Hey, we can split 'em, right?" Marcus asked.
"Hmm... Yeah, I'm su-"
Before he could finish his sentence, another kid had burst in, out of breath. It wasn't Jason, being that his green hair, clearly, gave him away and he was packed to the teeth with supplies for his journey. He threw his supplies down, on the side, as he nearly stumbled down the stairs, trying to speak.
"Sor... ry!" the kid huffed, "I... Sorta... slept in..."
"Wow, do I pity you, kid..." Marcus said, "Some jerk just took the last Pokémon."
"What?!" the green haired kid asked, in shock. After letting it sink in, for a second or two, he groaned.
"Dude, if you want, you can have my Bulbasaur..." Avon said, offering the ball to the green-haired kid.
As the kid saw the ball his enthusiastic blue eyes lit up with a twinkle. "Really?"
Avon withdrew the ball from the kid's reach, "Hell no! Are you crazy?! This is my only means of defense! Sorry, dude, but it looks like you'll have to get your own first Pokémon. As I said, sorry," Avon apologized.
"The early bird gets the worm, or in this case, the Pokémon." Prof. Oak said, making that pout again.
The green-hair kid sighed. "I guess that's okay, I suppose."
"Say, kid, who are you?" asked Marcus.
"Me? I'm Jimmy Polka, the next best Pokémon Trainer!" the green-haired kid, replied.
A few stifled snickers were heard from both Marcus and Avon, as they were refraining themselves from laughing at Jimmy's last name.
"Well, I can't offer you a first Pokémon, but here," Prof. Oak handed Jimmy Jason's Pokéballs and Pokédex, "Take these. You may need them."
"Thank you, sir! I promise! I'll prove all of Pallet town that I'll be the bestest Pokémon trainer ever!" Jimmy said, picking up his stuff and heading out the door. As he does, Avon and Marcus couldn't hold it in any longer and had burst into laughter.
"His last name is Polka!" they both said, in unison.
"What's the rest of it? Polka-dot?" Avon asked. They laughed even harder. Even Prof. Oak managed a chuckle or two.
"Here, you two. Your Pokédexes and Pokéballs," Oak said, then had burst another chuckle, starting to get the joke and laughing mid-sentence, "Now run along," Oak had broken into laugher again, "you two. I have much work to do-hoo-hoo!" Oak turned over and started laughing, "He said "Polka-dot!" Hee-hee-hee!"
The two walked out, still laughing at the Polka-dot joke, not even noticing Munchlax rejoining Marcus at his side.
*********
The "Polka-dot" joke ran on, for almost half the whole walk toward Viridian. Half being that an inspiring new trainer was hurrying down the road behind them.
"H-hey! Wait!" shouted a familiar voice. It was Jimmy again.
"Oh look, it's Polka-do-I mean Jimmy! Yes! Jimmy!" Avon said, correcting himself, still chuckling.
"Hey, I may not have gotten a real starter, like you guys, but I do have my first Pokémon!" Jimmy said. He was holding a Pokéball, in his right hand, thrusting it out to the two boys.
"So, what? Want a battle or something?" Avon had raised an eyebrow.
"Nah, I'm heading down the road to train this little guy! When I feel we've got enough experience, we'll challenge you!" Jimmy ran off toward Viridian.
"Poor kid. It'd be a shame if he always got whupped," Avon said.
"Yeah, I mean..." Marcus started, and then snickered some more, "if his last name wasn't bad enough to tease, imagine if he was just a loser."
Avon nodded. "That would sure blow..."
The two young trainers continue en route to Viridian city. As they pass through the forests and tall grass, they become alert to a sound nearby.
"What was that?" Avon asked, alert to the sound.
"Probably a wild Pokémon," Marcus replied, almost as if he had a good feeling what was going on, "Or a stalker, in the worst case."
Avon was getting anxious, "Let's pray it's not a stalker..."
"It doesn't matter that much to me, anyway..."
As soon as Marcus finished his sentence, a stick-shaped object is hurled toward Avon from the bushes. Avon turned to the object and flinched, but Marcus caught the object and gave it a flick at the end, which revealed the object to be a Chinese fan.
Avon opened his eyes, in shock, "What the hell?!" Avon yelled.
Marcus wasn't fazed. "Cassandra!" he called.
"Cassandra?" Avon asked, now confused.
Out of the bushes appeared a blue haired girl, her hair in long pigtails. Being Chinese inspired, she wore an orange/red dress, wearing wooden shoes called getas. The girl, Cassandra, appeared as gentle as a butterfly, as she walked out of the bushes.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked, surprised to how Marcus had realized who attacked so quickly.
"'Cause I got used to having a stalker." Marcus replied.
Cassandra scrunched her face, "I'm not a stalker! I'm your fiancée!" she replied.
Avon nearly choked on Cassandra's comment, "Fiancée?!" he gave a widened-eye look toward Marcus, "You're not even old enough to marry, yet!" he yelled.
"Last I recall, fiancées get married when they come of age or somethin'," Marcus said, "Anyway, Cassandra, are you kidding or telling the truth?"
Cassandra smirked, smugly, "Didn't we already discuss this? My family bribed yours into getting us engaged."
"And you want me to marry you after you almost killed..." Marcus stopped, to correct himself, "Err... maybe not killed, but hurt my friend, here?" He gestured over to Avon, who started sweating bullets.
"Yes. Yes I do." She replied, plainly. She smiled afterward.
Avon was now nerve-wracked. His eyes widened until he couldn't anymore, and his pupils shrank. He could only mutter his speech, at the girl's current presence. "We'd better get the f*** outta here..." Avon muttered.
Marcus turned to Avon and waved at him, "I'll catch up in a second, Avon." He said, confidently.
"Alright. Now if you'll excuse me..." Avon reared up and then fled, as if hell was an inch away.
Cassandra laughed, "HA! Your friend is a coward for leaving. But now back to our issue. Accept your fate and let's be together like boyfriend and girlfriend, Marcus."
"He's not a coward. He's just..." Marcus stopped to find the right word, "Normal. Look, Cassandra, let me be. And even if I do accept you, what good will that do? We're both fourteen, we need to be like seventeen or eighteen to get engaged."
Cassandra's appearance turned from graceful to wicked, as she heard those words come from Marcus' mouth, "I want you by my side, now and always, like husband and wife."
Meanwhile, Avon had stopped, after getting a good distance away from the two. He turned to see Cassandra and Marcus and knew that Marcus wouldn't accept her terms. He took out his Pokéball and looked at it. Realizing that Marcus could be attacked, just as he was, he ran back, knowing how to stop the argument.
"Cassandra," Marcus said, seeing how vicious she was getting, "I just started my journey, I don't want to start my journey by fighting you. So just leave me be and we can settle this later."
Anger was greatly shown on Cassandra's face, as she took out an umbrella made of bamboo and rice paper, "I'm tired of waiting! I'll force you into being my boyfriend!" she charged in, ready to strike Marcus with the bamboo umbrella.
As she drew in for the attack on Marcus, something unexpected happened. A round object of red and white was thrown from the side of her and made hard, direct contact with her face, knocking her aside and rolling onto the ground. She was in a daze, trying to recover from the blow, as the object clicked as it hit the ground, at Marcus' feet. It was a Pokéball.
The thrower was Avon, having sensed the incoming conflict and attacked Cassandra, in Marcus' defense. Marcus looked at the ball and then saw who threw it.
"Nice timing man," he commented.
"Heheh," Avon chuckled. He picked up his Pokéball and returned it to it's place on it's belt, "Now let's beat it, before she recovers."
"Amen to that." Marcus replied.
**********
All comments will be on the second post.
Chapter 1: The beginning of a new, and dangerous journey
In a room of an ordinary, middle-classed home, a black, digital alarm clock was buzzing, loudly, to wake up an average kid, in his bed. The light from the window was also shining down on him; all the elements against the kid, who was trying to turn over and go back to sleep. The kid reached for his alarm clock on his nightstand, having tried to find the "snooze" button. He gave up and ended up throwing the alarm at the wall, breaking it, but having stopped the racket being made. He rolled over, to go back to sleep, but then sprang up, almost out of his bed; having remembered that that day was an important day, for him. He would be getting his first Pokémon.
"Wha- I'm up! I'm up!" The kid grunted, loudly, having pulled himself up, from his lying down position, to sit up on his bed.
The kid was only fourteen-years old, a late bloomer considering what year he's finally getting his first Pokémon; had been waiting for this day for years. He had to finish up middle school, before he could set off for this day.
Being that he just woke up, his hair was a mess and in need of a brush. His brown eyes blinked, tiredly, as they adjusted to the new day. He was in his white T-shirt, and underwear, as he pulled off his covers, to place his feet on the floor. Though, it wasn't floor he had been stepping on.
He blinks twice, to adjust his eyes to the new morning, and to observe what was in his junky room. There were clothes everywhere. There was so much, the floor was buried from all the linen, cotton, polyester and all other kinds of fabrics the clothes were made of. Though, being lazy, he used this as his advantage.
Being partially awake at the time, he slipped on his dark blue jeans he had been stepping on, zipped up his fly and pulled himself up. He took off some of the socks that were hanging on the antenna of his TV and put them on. At the foot of his bed, was the kid's hamper; which the kid then dug into, for his shirt. After a few seconds of searching, he pulled out his army fatigued shirt, with the word "ARMY" imprinted on the front. He put that on, knowing he didn't match, but didn't care; the excitement of getting his first Pokémon now getting to him.
The kid figured he needed something to cover up his mismatching clothes, and spotted his jacket, hanging from the doorknob. He quickly snatched the jacket from the doorknob, threw it up and then let gravity take hold, as he slipped in from the sleeves. He was nearly completely dressed, but saw that his room was messy, as it always was. As a last token of appreciation, for his step-parents, he took all of his clothes and shoved it in the hamper, clearly overflowing it, some of the clothes falling down, near the hamper. The room looked much neater, but the rug looked like it needed a vacuum. The kid shrugs, figuring his step-parents would do that later, when he left.
"At least they can see my floor and dresser top..." the kid said to himself. He shrugged, caring less; he getting his first Pokémon was all he really cared about.
As he exited his room, he jumped into his shoes, which were at the foot of his bedroom door, and tied them. He wandered through the hallways and reached his living room, he saw his mother, knitting, while the father was reading the newspaper. Both of them were by the un-lit fireplace, while the light from the window in front of them seeped through the window shutters. Arctic couldn't get a clear view of them, being that their large chairs were blocking their appearances but he could see his blue, three-pocketed bag, resting near the front door. He was about to go get it but had, swiftly, turned back around at the corner, avoiding his stepmother's peripheral vision, as she turned, slightly, to see who it was.
Not wanting to be spotted, by his parents, the kid stopped to plot. I don't want any of that "We'll miss you" crap, or "Make me proud, son" speeches. I just wanna get the heck outta here! the kid thought.
He looked at his two stepparents, who still appeared to be unwary of their step-son's presence. The kid had planned to make a run for it. He took some deep breaths, as he counted in his head when to go, then ran for the door. He unlocked the lock, then turned the deadbolt over and pulled at the knob with a quick turn; though the door only cracked a little bit, to his freedom, being that the chain was on. He had overlooked the chain on the door, and before he could close the door and pull it off, he knew it was too late.
His stepmother hadn't had to say a word, but merely cleared her throat, having demanded attention. The kid stopped trying to make a hasty getaway, as he loosened his grip on the doorknob. He whimpered like a dog, a bit, and then went back to kiss his stepmother and manly hug his stepfather, good-bye for the time being. The kid grabbed his bag and stepped out the door, closing it behind him, and then snapped his fingers, as he stepped down from his front porch. Not like he could've avoided them, anyway. They knew him all too well.
*********
The kid took his time, as he headed for the laboratory where inexperienced Pokémon for beginner trainers were being distributed. He knew he had plenty of time to get there, being that he turned his alarm on, a good half-hour early; having hoped that he'd get up, before his parents did. As he walked down the road, going down a familiar road with the same houses, big and small, some with square or triangular roofs, others with narrow or wide walkways to their front porches; the kid looks for a certain house.
When he found the house, he turned to it and observed it, as if he had never seen it before. It was larger than most of the houses around, though that being because it was a two-family, two story house. It was a brown color, though a fresh coat of paint was recently put on it. A window was broken on the first floor but that was recently done yesterday, with a baseball.
Though, as the kid waits for his friend, a clatter arose, from the side of the house. Something was going through the garbage cans, as a few of them were overturned and a small, odd, dark blue Pokémon, of a sort, was inside one of the overturned garbage cans, consuming the garbage. The kid could tell who and what it was and who it belonged to, being that that wasn't the first time it had happened.
"Marcus! Munchlax is eating through the garbage!" the kid shouted, to the house. Someone had heard him, and a male's voice shouted back.
"Again?! Munchlax! Get in here! You know not to eat in there!" the voice shouted back.
The Pokémon, obedient to his master, pulled himself out, and revealed himself into the light. It was as small as it looked, being only a measly two feet high, but still a bit chubby. It had two long, but stubby ears, at the very top of its head, with a very round face. Its face was half the color dark blue and the other half, from it's bottom jaw, which two fangs were visible from the bottom, around it's entire lower half of it's head, yellow, which some was also on it's short, stubby neck and in a "drop" shape, on it's chest. The rest of his body, its five-fingered hands and short arms included, was a dark blue, the same color as the top of his head; all except his feet, which were covered by his spiked fur, at the bottom, is also yellow, with three claws for toes.
As it pulled itself out of the garbage can, it let out a large burp, being filled, as it tried to climb back into the window it climbed out of, by stacking up some crates, to level it up to the window. It appeared to be stuck, as it goes through the window, for a minute, then it squeezes through with a "pop" noise, and finally, a thud.
There was a bit of angry shouting, at the kid named Marcus, and at his Munchlax, though both of them were sent out. It was okay, though; they were glad to leave. Marcus was, roughly, the other kid's height and age. He was slightly bigger than the kid, though by width, not by height. Marcus had his long, dyed-green hair in a ponytail, which was originally brown, though his eyes were a lighter shade of green. He appeared to be ready to become a trainer, being that he was wearing a Pokéball holster shirt, over his white T-shirt; or at least he had a place to put all of his Pokéballs. Marcus also wore a pair of brown khaki cargo shorts, which covered more than half of his shin; and below that, on Marcus' feet, he wears a pair of black sneakers, though both sneakers had a red orb on the back of each shoe. Though, apart from the Pokégear, he had on a set of fighting grips, the knuckles of them tipped with leather to make his punches do more damage.
"Ugh..." Marcus groaned, having had probably just woke up and threw on his clothes, "Hello, Avon."
Avon, the kid that had been waiting, and gone through a stunt or two, to try to get past his step-parents, was his name. He's a beginner trainer, looking forward to his first win, and long awaited adventure. And while his straight, stern face was saying otherwise at the time, he had that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. What he didn't know was that what strange things would hit him, next.
Bonk! "Ow!" Avon shouted, being hit over the head, with a strange object. He picks up the metal contraption, that was probably some little kid's bike, "What the hell is this thing?" he asked.
"Who knows?" Marcus said. Avon handed it over to Marcus, who he handed it over to Munchlax, who he handed it over to his stomach. "Crap, I think he might be pooping metal for a week."
*******
"Any ideas on what you might be picking for a starter?" Marcus asked Avon, as the two were on their way down the winding roads to the Pokémon laboratory. The two had already reached the top of a hill, the beige-colored road winding into a descent from a hill, into a thin forest.
"Not a clue. Though, being that we'll both be there early, we can choose whoever we want," Avon said.
"Well, I know I'm getting Charmander."
"But don't you already have a Pokémon? Your Munchlax can be your starter, right?"
"And miss out on an opportunity to get a free Pokémon? I think not!" Munchlax yawns, lazily, as it walked by Marcus' side.
"... Know what? Good point!" Avon raised both of his eyebrows, in shock. Times like those that made him wish he had gotten an egg, when he was seven, and it hatched into something cool. But no, that happened to Marcus, not him. Avon hoped to catch all of his Pokémon, anyway; apart from his first one. He was probably going to pick Squirtle, anyway, being that it was close to his favorite type; that being Ice.
After many winding roads, forests and trees aplenty, the two made it to the laboratory. It was a large, pink colored building, with several windows on the front, a red roof on the top of the building and a thin, yellow windmill, on a white base behind the building. The building was led into welcome with a gray stepping path that was fenced off with a metal gate that was open to new trainers, but only on the road. The greenery wasn't fenced off, on the right side of the building, though was some height off the ground by a cliff, but from the left, the greenery was covered with many bushes and trees, that almost appeared to cover up the sight of the entrance; or at least from where Avon and Marcus approached it.
As they reached the laboratory, they were early, but not early enough. A black, stuck up spiky-haired, tough-looking kid was waiting at the front gates. The guy was leaning back on the gates, wearing a red vest, opened to reveal his muscles; arms crossed, as if he was waiting for the two to arrive. As Avon and Marcus approached the laboratory gates, the bully figure decided to confront them.
"Hey, chumps!" said the kid, "I'm only gonna warn ya once. Once we get in, I'm choosing first."
"On what ground?" Avon asked, "So what if you got here first! Go harass minorities, or something."
"Shut up kid. You're pushing it."
"H-hey! Hey!" called an old man's voice, "There's no need for fighting around here!"
Approaching the road, arms waving by his sides, was a gray-haired Professor of the laboratory. He had on a sheepish smile, quickly approaching the gate and opening it, as he felt that conflict was arising if things weren't broken up.
"Oh shut it, Grandpa!" Jason shouted back.
The old man's voice turned from sheepish to serious, "Now hold it, young man. You should treat your elders with some more respect."
The tough guy scoffed. "Whatever, pops." The kid turned to Avon and Marcus, "As for you two. Big mouth and Knuckles over there."
"We have names, dipstick." Marcus back sassed.
"Whatever. If you pick a fight with me again, I warn you now; ol' timer, there, won't save you..."
The Professor cleared his throat, placing one of his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, "I'm right here, and I can hear you..." the small group walked up the road, toward the laboratory, "I suppose we should get on with the introductions..."
"I'll go first." Marcus said, "Marcus Lamech, previous resident of Johto, but moved to Kanto, about a few years ago. These gloves are not for show."
"Avon Lorain, adopted resident of Kanto," Avon stated rubbing the back of his neck, "I know the region pretty well..."
"Jason Bullard." The bully kid said, "Pick a fight with me and you won't feel your legs afterwards."
"Alright. Marcus, Avon, Jason. I am Professor Oak. I study Pokémon as a profession. People often refer to me as the Po-"
"Okay, that's enough rambling, grandpa!" Jason rudely interrupted.
"... Well, if we may go on..."
The three enter the laboratory and into the lab area. Meanwhile, Munchlax scampered off on his own somewhere and found himself in the break room. There were a few scientists there on break, with some sandwiches and a few goodies on their plates. Munchlax found the opportunity, stole whatever he could get his hands on and stuff into his stomach. The scientists who were on break double-took to their plates, blinking to the disappearance of their food.
Back with Avon and Marcus, the small group was lead to a glass container that opened up at the push of a button.
"Okay, to the three of you, there are the three starter Pokémon; Charmander, Squirtle and Bulbasaur. You may each take only ONE! No being greedy, Jason."
"Oh pipe down, ol' timer! I already know what I want!" Jason shouted at Prof. Oak. He saw what Avon was going for then side-bumped him out of the way, knocking down both him and Marcus in one bump. He swiped the Pokémon that he saw Avon was going for and, as a friendly gesture, showed the turtle Pokémon to Professor Oak. "Say, Oak, I want this one."
"W-what?! But I was gonna get that one!" Avon shouted, shocked.
"Well, at least he stopped calling me those old names..." Oak muttered. He spoke louder, for Jason to hear. "Um, yes, okay. I suppose you can have it."
"Oh come on!!" Avon bellowed, shoulder-tackling Jason, to take his spot in front of Oak. "You saw me about to take that one!"
"Sorry, Avon, looks like you'll have to take another one..."
"But, Marcus is going for Charmander. That means..."
Professor Oak shut his eyes, and made a pouting gesture, "Looks like you'll have to take Bulbasaur."
Avon slumped down, on his back and groaned. He could hear Jason laughing as he walked out the front door. He muttered a curse to Jason, under his breath, as he took Bulbasaur.
"Hmm... Jason walked out so quickly, he forgot his Pokédex and Pokéballs..."
"Hey, we can split 'em, right?" Marcus asked.
"Hmm... Yeah, I'm su-"
Before he could finish his sentence, another kid had burst in, out of breath. It wasn't Jason, being that his green hair, clearly, gave him away and he was packed to the teeth with supplies for his journey. He threw his supplies down, on the side, as he nearly stumbled down the stairs, trying to speak.
"Sor... ry!" the kid huffed, "I... Sorta... slept in..."
"Wow, do I pity you, kid..." Marcus said, "Some jerk just took the last Pokémon."
"What?!" the green haired kid asked, in shock. After letting it sink in, for a second or two, he groaned.
"Dude, if you want, you can have my Bulbasaur..." Avon said, offering the ball to the green-haired kid.
As the kid saw the ball his enthusiastic blue eyes lit up with a twinkle. "Really?"
Avon withdrew the ball from the kid's reach, "Hell no! Are you crazy?! This is my only means of defense! Sorry, dude, but it looks like you'll have to get your own first Pokémon. As I said, sorry," Avon apologized.
"The early bird gets the worm, or in this case, the Pokémon." Prof. Oak said, making that pout again.
The green-hair kid sighed. "I guess that's okay, I suppose."
"Say, kid, who are you?" asked Marcus.
"Me? I'm Jimmy Polka, the next best Pokémon Trainer!" the green-haired kid, replied.
A few stifled snickers were heard from both Marcus and Avon, as they were refraining themselves from laughing at Jimmy's last name.
"Well, I can't offer you a first Pokémon, but here," Prof. Oak handed Jimmy Jason's Pokéballs and Pokédex, "Take these. You may need them."
"Thank you, sir! I promise! I'll prove all of Pallet town that I'll be the bestest Pokémon trainer ever!" Jimmy said, picking up his stuff and heading out the door. As he does, Avon and Marcus couldn't hold it in any longer and had burst into laughter.
"His last name is Polka!" they both said, in unison.
"What's the rest of it? Polka-dot?" Avon asked. They laughed even harder. Even Prof. Oak managed a chuckle or two.
"Here, you two. Your Pokédexes and Pokéballs," Oak said, then had burst another chuckle, starting to get the joke and laughing mid-sentence, "Now run along," Oak had broken into laugher again, "you two. I have much work to do-hoo-hoo!" Oak turned over and started laughing, "He said "Polka-dot!" Hee-hee-hee!"
The two walked out, still laughing at the Polka-dot joke, not even noticing Munchlax rejoining Marcus at his side.
*********
The "Polka-dot" joke ran on, for almost half the whole walk toward Viridian. Half being that an inspiring new trainer was hurrying down the road behind them.
"H-hey! Wait!" shouted a familiar voice. It was Jimmy again.
"Oh look, it's Polka-do-I mean Jimmy! Yes! Jimmy!" Avon said, correcting himself, still chuckling.
"Hey, I may not have gotten a real starter, like you guys, but I do have my first Pokémon!" Jimmy said. He was holding a Pokéball, in his right hand, thrusting it out to the two boys.
"So, what? Want a battle or something?" Avon had raised an eyebrow.
"Nah, I'm heading down the road to train this little guy! When I feel we've got enough experience, we'll challenge you!" Jimmy ran off toward Viridian.
"Poor kid. It'd be a shame if he always got whupped," Avon said.
"Yeah, I mean..." Marcus started, and then snickered some more, "if his last name wasn't bad enough to tease, imagine if he was just a loser."
Avon nodded. "That would sure blow..."
The two young trainers continue en route to Viridian city. As they pass through the forests and tall grass, they become alert to a sound nearby.
"What was that?" Avon asked, alert to the sound.
"Probably a wild Pokémon," Marcus replied, almost as if he had a good feeling what was going on, "Or a stalker, in the worst case."
Avon was getting anxious, "Let's pray it's not a stalker..."
"It doesn't matter that much to me, anyway..."
As soon as Marcus finished his sentence, a stick-shaped object is hurled toward Avon from the bushes. Avon turned to the object and flinched, but Marcus caught the object and gave it a flick at the end, which revealed the object to be a Chinese fan.
Avon opened his eyes, in shock, "What the hell?!" Avon yelled.
Marcus wasn't fazed. "Cassandra!" he called.
"Cassandra?" Avon asked, now confused.
Out of the bushes appeared a blue haired girl, her hair in long pigtails. Being Chinese inspired, she wore an orange/red dress, wearing wooden shoes called getas. The girl, Cassandra, appeared as gentle as a butterfly, as she walked out of the bushes.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked, surprised to how Marcus had realized who attacked so quickly.
"'Cause I got used to having a stalker." Marcus replied.
Cassandra scrunched her face, "I'm not a stalker! I'm your fiancée!" she replied.
Avon nearly choked on Cassandra's comment, "Fiancée?!" he gave a widened-eye look toward Marcus, "You're not even old enough to marry, yet!" he yelled.
"Last I recall, fiancées get married when they come of age or somethin'," Marcus said, "Anyway, Cassandra, are you kidding or telling the truth?"
Cassandra smirked, smugly, "Didn't we already discuss this? My family bribed yours into getting us engaged."
"And you want me to marry you after you almost killed..." Marcus stopped, to correct himself, "Err... maybe not killed, but hurt my friend, here?" He gestured over to Avon, who started sweating bullets.
"Yes. Yes I do." She replied, plainly. She smiled afterward.
Avon was now nerve-wracked. His eyes widened until he couldn't anymore, and his pupils shrank. He could only mutter his speech, at the girl's current presence. "We'd better get the f*** outta here..." Avon muttered.
Marcus turned to Avon and waved at him, "I'll catch up in a second, Avon." He said, confidently.
"Alright. Now if you'll excuse me..." Avon reared up and then fled, as if hell was an inch away.
Cassandra laughed, "HA! Your friend is a coward for leaving. But now back to our issue. Accept your fate and let's be together like boyfriend and girlfriend, Marcus."
"He's not a coward. He's just..." Marcus stopped to find the right word, "Normal. Look, Cassandra, let me be. And even if I do accept you, what good will that do? We're both fourteen, we need to be like seventeen or eighteen to get engaged."
Cassandra's appearance turned from graceful to wicked, as she heard those words come from Marcus' mouth, "I want you by my side, now and always, like husband and wife."
Meanwhile, Avon had stopped, after getting a good distance away from the two. He turned to see Cassandra and Marcus and knew that Marcus wouldn't accept her terms. He took out his Pokéball and looked at it. Realizing that Marcus could be attacked, just as he was, he ran back, knowing how to stop the argument.
"Cassandra," Marcus said, seeing how vicious she was getting, "I just started my journey, I don't want to start my journey by fighting you. So just leave me be and we can settle this later."
Anger was greatly shown on Cassandra's face, as she took out an umbrella made of bamboo and rice paper, "I'm tired of waiting! I'll force you into being my boyfriend!" she charged in, ready to strike Marcus with the bamboo umbrella.
As she drew in for the attack on Marcus, something unexpected happened. A round object of red and white was thrown from the side of her and made hard, direct contact with her face, knocking her aside and rolling onto the ground. She was in a daze, trying to recover from the blow, as the object clicked as it hit the ground, at Marcus' feet. It was a Pokéball.
The thrower was Avon, having sensed the incoming conflict and attacked Cassandra, in Marcus' defense. Marcus looked at the ball and then saw who threw it.
"Nice timing man," he commented.
"Heheh," Avon chuckled. He picked up his Pokéball and returned it to it's place on it's belt, "Now let's beat it, before she recovers."
"Amen to that." Marcus replied.
**********
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