emeraldslay
Obsessed with Mew/writing
- 399
- Posts
- 21
- Years
- Age 32
- Seen Aug 3, 2008
Chapter one: Flash backErick sat on his soft large sofa, and stroked the delicate blute feathers on the bird perched on his shoulder. It delicately hummed in approval. Erick looked deep into the eyes of the Poke'mon. It was so strange. This mere Poke'mon was his soul, without it he would be traumatized. Without Auroa he wouldn't be able to make it through this lonely life. Being one of the masters seems like a great life to many of the young trainers, but it was a lonely life. Without great Poke'mon for companions, he would be too lonely to cope.
"It really is just you and me Auroa" Erick said.
"Arti, Arti" The Poke'mon replied in approval. It went on one leg, then the other, and finally settled on both.
Erick got up and Auroa hopped onto the sofa, before flying next to him. They were by the fireplace. They watched as one log fell onto the other, the flames consuming the wood, and many little orange sparks went to the top of the fireplace.
Most people thought of Erick as an old cook, pressured by the master life to the point where he was about to crack. For a start, he kept all his Poke'mon to rome about the mansion, and his faviorute, Auroa, always stayed by his side as if it were a part of him. The rest of the masters gave speeches at Poke'mon schools, and inspired young trainers. But the only time Erick gave a speech he started rambling on about how lonely master life was, and how that normal life was better. Since that slightly disturbing speech had been made, he was never asked to give speeches again. He didn't have any companions in the massive mansion he lived in, and most people thought that is why he was crazy. But the truth was, he wasn't crazy. Eventually, all the masters would feel the deep coldness in life. He couldn't go outside without being interviewed, or pointed at. Most people couldn't live there life like that. That is probably why most Masters die young. They cant cope with much of the pressure. One of the obvious answers to cope is to join the elite four, the most famous group of masters, or maybe one of the other leagues that people could join. That kept them going, gave them a lot of money, and there personal lives weren't interfered with. Erick had considered it many times, but now he wouldn't be accepted. Everybody knew that now Masters were not determined by there status or even by how good they were, it was there reputation. Poke'mon bought in a lot of money to industries everywhere, and the young people needed guidance nowdays. It was good that most became Poke'mon trainers, because others became gang members or drug addicts. That is why they needed good role models. But it wasn't always like that. Back when Erick was young, the elite were way tougher to beat.
"Can you remember when we first met, Auroa?" Erick asked.
"Arti! Arti arti!" The Poke'mon said.
"Heh heh, so do I. I even remember further back. When I first became a trainer"
Erick settled next to the armchair and stared into the fire. Auroa shifted his weight from leg to leg, then settled, getting ready to hear a story.
"It all started back on my birthday..."
More coming soon!
"It really is just you and me Auroa" Erick said.
"Arti, Arti" The Poke'mon replied in approval. It went on one leg, then the other, and finally settled on both.
Erick got up and Auroa hopped onto the sofa, before flying next to him. They were by the fireplace. They watched as one log fell onto the other, the flames consuming the wood, and many little orange sparks went to the top of the fireplace.
Most people thought of Erick as an old cook, pressured by the master life to the point where he was about to crack. For a start, he kept all his Poke'mon to rome about the mansion, and his faviorute, Auroa, always stayed by his side as if it were a part of him. The rest of the masters gave speeches at Poke'mon schools, and inspired young trainers. But the only time Erick gave a speech he started rambling on about how lonely master life was, and how that normal life was better. Since that slightly disturbing speech had been made, he was never asked to give speeches again. He didn't have any companions in the massive mansion he lived in, and most people thought that is why he was crazy. But the truth was, he wasn't crazy. Eventually, all the masters would feel the deep coldness in life. He couldn't go outside without being interviewed, or pointed at. Most people couldn't live there life like that. That is probably why most Masters die young. They cant cope with much of the pressure. One of the obvious answers to cope is to join the elite four, the most famous group of masters, or maybe one of the other leagues that people could join. That kept them going, gave them a lot of money, and there personal lives weren't interfered with. Erick had considered it many times, but now he wouldn't be accepted. Everybody knew that now Masters were not determined by there status or even by how good they were, it was there reputation. Poke'mon bought in a lot of money to industries everywhere, and the young people needed guidance nowdays. It was good that most became Poke'mon trainers, because others became gang members or drug addicts. That is why they needed good role models. But it wasn't always like that. Back when Erick was young, the elite were way tougher to beat.
"Can you remember when we first met, Auroa?" Erick asked.
"Arti! Arti arti!" The Poke'mon said.
"Heh heh, so do I. I even remember further back. When I first became a trainer"
Erick settled next to the armchair and stared into the fire. Auroa shifted his weight from leg to leg, then settled, getting ready to hear a story.
"It all started back on my birthday..."
More coming soon!