RedSox71
I am a pineapple
- 22
- Posts
- 15
- Years
- Pennsylvania
- Seen Nov 4, 2012
Author's Note: Hi, uh...yeah. This is my first Pokemon-based fanfiction. Just read, I guess, and tell me how it goes! Oh, and this is rated T for future violence and possible language. Just warning you guys.
Prologue
Light filtered through the dense blanket of leaves above me. The leaves' shadows danced across the earth as the cool May wind blew down from the mountaintops. Brilliant hues of purple and light were splashed on the azure sky. The setting sun painted the same image every evening, only to be washed away by the moon's envy. The artist was peaking out from behind the white-capped peaks on the horizon. Even though it was rapidly approaching summer, the snow and ice lingered in the perpetual cold on top of those mountains. Some of the sun's paint was spilled onto the mountaintops; their snow acting as a clean canvas. Petals floated through the air, being carried by the calm winds.
The constant noise of the small town behind me began to fade as I walked farther into the forest. The confident commands of the trainers battling near the fountain seemed to grow to soft whispers; their Pokémon's cries almost inaudible as I continued on. I could no longer hear the townsfolk begging for the kids to stop; they said that the forest was for battling, not the fountain. I glanced behind me; a visibly angered Azumarill was trailing behind a short girl about my age, pouting and trudging away. Walking in the opposite direction was an extremely lanky boy with a Shuppet hovering close by his side. I guess they gave up battling.
Everything was so calm, so special in Ivywood. Cobblestone streets winded up and down the rolling hills that the small town was set on, quaint houses lining them. The stone statue was at the center of town. It was surrounded by a circular garden that was surrounded by a rotary, though barely anybody in Ivywood had a car. The statue portrayed some guy, who was apparently the founder of Ivywood. Nobody knows his name, not even the elders of the town. At his side was an Ivysaur. I guess that's why the town got its name.
To the left of the statue was the Pokémon Center. Its once-vibrant red paint faded to a dreary brown. A few bright tulips were scattered among the grass at the front of the Center. The paint used to match their color. To the right of the statue was the Ivywood Gym. I used to laugh about that name: Ivywood Gym. It shouldn't have been called a Gym. Maybe the Ivywood Joke would have been a better name. Why it was the 6th gym in the Inko League? It still perplexes me to this day. Its leader, Gloria, was barely a year older than my 16. She "specialized" in Grass-types, apparently. She was fresh out of some prestigious school out in Johto, but I guess she was the only one the Inko League could find. Her pathetic team consisted of a revolting Vileplume, a bafflingly stupid Sunflora, and a surprisingly mediocre Bellossom. Ha! I could've beaten her on my 11th birthday with my brand-new Eevee!
I was now far away from Ivywood. The only sounds I could hear were the breeze, the occasional chirp of some bird Pokémon up in the trees, and the light footsteps beside me.
Oh, that and the ear-shattering screams behind me.
Prologue
Light filtered through the dense blanket of leaves above me. The leaves' shadows danced across the earth as the cool May wind blew down from the mountaintops. Brilliant hues of purple and light were splashed on the azure sky. The setting sun painted the same image every evening, only to be washed away by the moon's envy. The artist was peaking out from behind the white-capped peaks on the horizon. Even though it was rapidly approaching summer, the snow and ice lingered in the perpetual cold on top of those mountains. Some of the sun's paint was spilled onto the mountaintops; their snow acting as a clean canvas. Petals floated through the air, being carried by the calm winds.
The constant noise of the small town behind me began to fade as I walked farther into the forest. The confident commands of the trainers battling near the fountain seemed to grow to soft whispers; their Pokémon's cries almost inaudible as I continued on. I could no longer hear the townsfolk begging for the kids to stop; they said that the forest was for battling, not the fountain. I glanced behind me; a visibly angered Azumarill was trailing behind a short girl about my age, pouting and trudging away. Walking in the opposite direction was an extremely lanky boy with a Shuppet hovering close by his side. I guess they gave up battling.
Everything was so calm, so special in Ivywood. Cobblestone streets winded up and down the rolling hills that the small town was set on, quaint houses lining them. The stone statue was at the center of town. It was surrounded by a circular garden that was surrounded by a rotary, though barely anybody in Ivywood had a car. The statue portrayed some guy, who was apparently the founder of Ivywood. Nobody knows his name, not even the elders of the town. At his side was an Ivysaur. I guess that's why the town got its name.
To the left of the statue was the Pokémon Center. Its once-vibrant red paint faded to a dreary brown. A few bright tulips were scattered among the grass at the front of the Center. The paint used to match their color. To the right of the statue was the Ivywood Gym. I used to laugh about that name: Ivywood Gym. It shouldn't have been called a Gym. Maybe the Ivywood Joke would have been a better name. Why it was the 6th gym in the Inko League? It still perplexes me to this day. Its leader, Gloria, was barely a year older than my 16. She "specialized" in Grass-types, apparently. She was fresh out of some prestigious school out in Johto, but I guess she was the only one the Inko League could find. Her pathetic team consisted of a revolting Vileplume, a bafflingly stupid Sunflora, and a surprisingly mediocre Bellossom. Ha! I could've beaten her on my 11th birthday with my brand-new Eevee!
I was now far away from Ivywood. The only sounds I could hear were the breeze, the occasional chirp of some bird Pokémon up in the trees, and the light footsteps beside me.
Oh, that and the ear-shattering screams behind me.
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