Quackerdrill
say yes to love
I'm really sorry, I had no intention of releasing two previews for my upcoming fic. In my opinion it is the digital equivalent of knocking you all upside the head with my writing. But alas, I have been forced out of my old thread and must create a new one to post the rest of the preview. Sorry, yall!
If by chance you did not see the first thread, this is a preview for a new chaptered fic that combines ideas from my prior two fics, Pressure and An Awakening. Both were incomplete and did not reach their full potential in means of writing quality... I've decided to do the concepts justice by redoing them as one story, hopefully clear of the glaring syntax errors that plagued my earlier work. I see this as a return to fanfiction... I had debated coming back several times. But I love you all too much to do that. Heh.
So here we go. Enjoy the prologue.
EDIT: I don't get it. Do I need to put a dragon in here or something? Make it really depressing and angsty? Do I need to put a bunch of unecessary symbols around the title? I didn't get the memo that this place dissolved over the past year. I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering why I wasn't warned xD
~~~
Prologue:
Journal Entry: January 27th, 2017
Tyreville is kind of like a candle. Yes, a candle is a horrible comparison for a town—candles are becoming increasingly obsolete—but it seems to be the most accurate thing I can compare it to. When the town lights up, it lights up with a brilliance that empowers the soul and enlightens the mind. The citizens thrive in its glow every day, from the negligible farmer to the most important businessman. And the light is not wasted, either; the workers are willing to put together and fix the light and the people are willing to pay for the light. Also, like a candle’s flame the warmth that lives in the soul of Tyreville keeps the town safe and protected. In a literal sense, the weather is humid but steady, keeping an aura of warmth akin to the cover of a blanket. A more symbolic approach to this warmth can be seen in the eyes of the people. There is a friendship and a dedication there that is missing from many of the larger cities in Johto.
The city is arranged like an abstract painting. There is a story that we were all told when we were little that the people who started building the town had been in a major argument during the entire ordeal. There are shops across from shops and alleyways that lead to other alleyways. There are even blocks of houses in which each house is designed differently than the next. You can almost hear the bickering and squabbling of the architects when you look at the rigid, defined columns of the town hall and compare them to the dreary countenance of the bar across the street.
But looks can be deceiving, as the old saying goes. Can’t judge a book by its cover, and so on and so on. The place may look like a mess but its heart is in the right place. There is something to be said about the small town; they may be small but they make up for it with the people within. Often small towns like this will be the center of something much more epic and much grander than anyone in its dusty confines could have ever dreamed about. At least, this is the vision that many people share around here. They all think that something will happen that will change all their lives forever. One has to wonder whether they want a greater purpose from this event or simply want a change of pace.
But that’s not what Tyreville is here for, in my opinion. The pace is just fine; sure, a Slaking could run a marathon at faster pace than the one we live, but the Slaking’s the one who will be tired in the end. I work on a ranch, live with the Pokemon, take a few pictures… there’s not much I would rather do. Being out with nature is my calling. A big event would just bring a lot of unneeded pressure and worry, not to mention people who don’t belong in a place like this. The last thing I want to see in Tyreville is a news van and news “personalities” with more makeup on than Mr. Mime.
Our family’s ranch has always been the arguable center of Tyreville. It is arguable because many have made the case that the real center of town is the town hall; but with the kind of construction we have here anything within a three mile radius of the hall could be the center of town. I suppose once again that it is meant in a more figurative way—the ranch is the center of the town in the manner that it is a gathering place, for crops, people, and Pokemon alike. We often throw parties for big events in the barn, or we will have Pokemon battles in the field in the back. But mostly the ranch is where my father got to meet with both the important officials such as the mayor or just with the neighbors down the road. It makes me wonder why we have a town hall at all.
Our ranch has been in our family for generations and today is the day where it is to be passed on to me. I will thus be given the responsibilities that come with a large piece of land such as this, including the nurture and well-being of the Pokemon. I do not necessarily fear being the tenant of the ranch, but I do feel like a horrible replacement for my father. He gave his life to the ranch and sacrificed much more than I ever could. It was as if his only passion was to care for it, almost as if it was connected to the very fiber of his being. His lifeline, you could say. I do not fear the prospect of being in charge, or the workload… but I fear that I would let down my family. The level of dedication I would give would be a disgrace to the generations who tended the land before me.
Do not get me wrong; I love Pokemon. The monsters on the ranch are my lifelong friends and family. They have basically been my company since I was born. Saying that I could not survive without them is accurate, except if the scenario calls for a literal interpretation. However, there are many things in my life that carry my interest beyond the ranch. I suppose one could say that my next best friend is my videogame collection. As nerdy as it may sound, there is a certain degree of escapism that is needed when one works the land all day. I would much rather be exploring, fighting, puzzle-solving, or driving on a virtual raceway instead of some trivial task such as milking the Miltank. There is also a kind of perfection that exists within the realms of the virtual world that captures me. Real life lacks anything close to perfection.
Maybe that is the reason why I think that this ranch and this town are not mine to call my own. They were my father’s, and he proved it by pouring his life into making the community and the people around him feel welcome and complete. I brought up perfection to prove my failings; the person closest to perfection in my mind would be this man that I call my father. And in no way did he match the dictionary definition. I think the only point that is made by this is the difficulty we have calling anything perfect.
All this is a testament to the greatness of a man. But more importantly it is proof of how even the most perfect setup, the most optimal conditions, all can fail to seem perfect in humanity's eyes. A world created with numbers is perfect, but carbon? Water? Impossible.
I learned much too late that the word is meaningless.
~~~
Feel free to comment. Yell. Rant. Whatever floats your raft. This thing probably will not be complete until fall or at latest next year. Yes, I'm actually taking the time to complete it before I post- wise, eh? It's about time I did something wise around here.
Once again, I apologize for posting this a second time. Life throws these things at you. It is its way of thinning out the herd, I suppose. XD
If by chance you did not see the first thread, this is a preview for a new chaptered fic that combines ideas from my prior two fics, Pressure and An Awakening. Both were incomplete and did not reach their full potential in means of writing quality... I've decided to do the concepts justice by redoing them as one story, hopefully clear of the glaring syntax errors that plagued my earlier work. I see this as a return to fanfiction... I had debated coming back several times. But I love you all too much to do that. Heh.
So here we go. Enjoy the prologue.
EDIT: I don't get it. Do I need to put a dragon in here or something? Make it really depressing and angsty? Do I need to put a bunch of unecessary symbols around the title? I didn't get the memo that this place dissolved over the past year. I'm not complaining, I'm just wondering why I wasn't warned xD
~~~
Prologue:
Journal Entry: January 27th, 2017
Tyreville is kind of like a candle. Yes, a candle is a horrible comparison for a town—candles are becoming increasingly obsolete—but it seems to be the most accurate thing I can compare it to. When the town lights up, it lights up with a brilliance that empowers the soul and enlightens the mind. The citizens thrive in its glow every day, from the negligible farmer to the most important businessman. And the light is not wasted, either; the workers are willing to put together and fix the light and the people are willing to pay for the light. Also, like a candle’s flame the warmth that lives in the soul of Tyreville keeps the town safe and protected. In a literal sense, the weather is humid but steady, keeping an aura of warmth akin to the cover of a blanket. A more symbolic approach to this warmth can be seen in the eyes of the people. There is a friendship and a dedication there that is missing from many of the larger cities in Johto.
The city is arranged like an abstract painting. There is a story that we were all told when we were little that the people who started building the town had been in a major argument during the entire ordeal. There are shops across from shops and alleyways that lead to other alleyways. There are even blocks of houses in which each house is designed differently than the next. You can almost hear the bickering and squabbling of the architects when you look at the rigid, defined columns of the town hall and compare them to the dreary countenance of the bar across the street.
But looks can be deceiving, as the old saying goes. Can’t judge a book by its cover, and so on and so on. The place may look like a mess but its heart is in the right place. There is something to be said about the small town; they may be small but they make up for it with the people within. Often small towns like this will be the center of something much more epic and much grander than anyone in its dusty confines could have ever dreamed about. At least, this is the vision that many people share around here. They all think that something will happen that will change all their lives forever. One has to wonder whether they want a greater purpose from this event or simply want a change of pace.
But that’s not what Tyreville is here for, in my opinion. The pace is just fine; sure, a Slaking could run a marathon at faster pace than the one we live, but the Slaking’s the one who will be tired in the end. I work on a ranch, live with the Pokemon, take a few pictures… there’s not much I would rather do. Being out with nature is my calling. A big event would just bring a lot of unneeded pressure and worry, not to mention people who don’t belong in a place like this. The last thing I want to see in Tyreville is a news van and news “personalities” with more makeup on than Mr. Mime.
Our family’s ranch has always been the arguable center of Tyreville. It is arguable because many have made the case that the real center of town is the town hall; but with the kind of construction we have here anything within a three mile radius of the hall could be the center of town. I suppose once again that it is meant in a more figurative way—the ranch is the center of the town in the manner that it is a gathering place, for crops, people, and Pokemon alike. We often throw parties for big events in the barn, or we will have Pokemon battles in the field in the back. But mostly the ranch is where my father got to meet with both the important officials such as the mayor or just with the neighbors down the road. It makes me wonder why we have a town hall at all.
Our ranch has been in our family for generations and today is the day where it is to be passed on to me. I will thus be given the responsibilities that come with a large piece of land such as this, including the nurture and well-being of the Pokemon. I do not necessarily fear being the tenant of the ranch, but I do feel like a horrible replacement for my father. He gave his life to the ranch and sacrificed much more than I ever could. It was as if his only passion was to care for it, almost as if it was connected to the very fiber of his being. His lifeline, you could say. I do not fear the prospect of being in charge, or the workload… but I fear that I would let down my family. The level of dedication I would give would be a disgrace to the generations who tended the land before me.
Do not get me wrong; I love Pokemon. The monsters on the ranch are my lifelong friends and family. They have basically been my company since I was born. Saying that I could not survive without them is accurate, except if the scenario calls for a literal interpretation. However, there are many things in my life that carry my interest beyond the ranch. I suppose one could say that my next best friend is my videogame collection. As nerdy as it may sound, there is a certain degree of escapism that is needed when one works the land all day. I would much rather be exploring, fighting, puzzle-solving, or driving on a virtual raceway instead of some trivial task such as milking the Miltank. There is also a kind of perfection that exists within the realms of the virtual world that captures me. Real life lacks anything close to perfection.
Maybe that is the reason why I think that this ranch and this town are not mine to call my own. They were my father’s, and he proved it by pouring his life into making the community and the people around him feel welcome and complete. I brought up perfection to prove my failings; the person closest to perfection in my mind would be this man that I call my father. And in no way did he match the dictionary definition. I think the only point that is made by this is the difficulty we have calling anything perfect.
All this is a testament to the greatness of a man. But more importantly it is proof of how even the most perfect setup, the most optimal conditions, all can fail to seem perfect in humanity's eyes. A world created with numbers is perfect, but carbon? Water? Impossible.
I learned much too late that the word is meaningless.
~~~
Feel free to comment. Yell. Rant. Whatever floats your raft. This thing probably will not be complete until fall or at latest next year. Yes, I'm actually taking the time to complete it before I post- wise, eh? It's about time I did something wise around here.
Once again, I apologize for posting this a second time. Life throws these things at you. It is its way of thinning out the herd, I suppose. XD
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