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Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by [Imaginative]:[Clockwork], Jul 17, 2012.

  1. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    PG-13 should be safe.

    Anyway, this is my first piece of writing that I've posted in a while. So far, I've only written one-shots and this is no different. Well, it's a little different, but not much.

    See, I've had this idea for a while now. It's a collection of one-shots devoted to each town in Kanto. Each chapter (they won't be connected like a chaptered fic, but for simplicity's sake, I'll just call each one-shot a chapter) will be named after the color of one of the cities. As an extra challenge to myself, the theme/mood/plot of the chapters will be based on the color. For instance, the Cerulean chapter (Blue) could be sad, since blue is obviously a pretty melancholy color. I don't think most of them will be that obvious, though (I don't plan on the Blue one being sad anyway).

    ♦ Purple
    ♦ Rainbow
    ♦ Yellow
    ♦ Pink
    ♦ Red

    (It turns out making the color of each one-shot match its title looks horrible.)

    In regards to this chapter, I have to admit that it might not be my best work. I loved writing it and I love where it takes me when I read it, but I'm not sure how well some of the ideas in it translated to writing, especially for someone reading it for the first time. It's also kind of a fluff piece. However, if you don't like it, I would love for you to stick around, since I promise you won't be seeing the same thing twice (hopefully).

    Uh, so yeah. A one-shot based in Pallet Town (although not actually within its borders):


    “Help me, Barnabas!” shouted Willow Birdsong, desperation echoing throughout the plains. Her long legs were pinned under a fallen elm tree, forcing her to watch helplessly as an especially aggressive tauros, spurred by the black-cloaked man riding it barebacked, charged directly toward her squirming form. Its thundering hoofs pounded relentlessly, splitting fault lines, opening fresh craters, and drowning out Willow's shrieks of terror.

    “You called!?” Not a second too early, Barnabas Bigsby leapt over the large tree trunk on the back of a silky white rapidash, landing directly in front of Willow and causing the tauros to screech to a halt. His rugged five o'clock shadow rippled around a confident grin as the woman cheered behind him.

    “Well, well, well, if it isn't Barnabas Bigsby,” the man riding the tauros crowed, spittle flying from his lips with each overly-enunciated “B” sound. “How disappointing to see you survived the shipwreck. I didn't think your little pony there could swim.”

    Rapidash's glistening muscles quivered underneath its trainer as it stomped the ground warily.

    “I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, Piers,” Barnabas replied, always remaining casual.

    “Yeah!” Willow quipped, woefully unpracticed in the art of banter.

    Barnabas rolled his eyes and continued. “Anyway, I believe you owe me a battle,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “We didn't get to finish our death match on the deck of the St. Zebulon while it was sinking, burning, and exploding, all at the same time.”

    “How right you are,” Piers mumbled, grinning maniacally. “I always repay my debts.”

    “Charge!” Barnabas commanded his rapidash, sparking a similar order from Piers to his tauros. Immediately, the two were headed toward a dead collision with each other, each trainer daring the other to blink first.

    Right before impact, a crack of lightning opened the sky, releasing a sudden downpour of rain.

    “Agh!” Barnabas screamed, jerkily changing his Pokémon's direction so that they were running to the nearest tree. “Under here!”

    Piers followed quickly. “I can't get this cape wet!” he cried in terror. “My mom's gonna kill me!”

    “Wait up!” Willow kicked the tree off of her legs, sending it flying. “I knew I shouldn't have worn my good jigglypuff socks!”

    Soon, all three were gathered under the same tree, dripping wet.

    “Told you we should've played inside,” Piers said, his sinister tone replaced by the simple, somewhat feminine voice a young boy.

    “Inside's boring,” Barnabas muttered, looking down at his wet clothes. What was moments ago a complicated mess of straps, buckles, and pockets was now just a soggy red T-shirt with a faded poké ball symbol on the front.

    Both boys stepped off of their bicycles, forgetting about the fierce creatures they had been.

    “I'd rather be bored than muddy!” Willow yelled, wringing out her curly blonde pigtails.

    “Don't worry, Pete,” Barnabas said, addressing his arch-nemesis Piers. “We can just hang this up when it stops raining. Your mom'll never know.”

    “I'm not lying to Mom!” the girl protested, earning a heavy punch to the shoulder from Peter.

    “You will if you know what's good for you!” he bellowed. He then turned to Barnabas. “Sorry, Billy, my mom made me take her. She promised she'd be good.”

    “Maybe next time we'll tape her mouth shut,” Billy snickered.

    “I doubt there'll be a next time!” she declared, fuming when the two boys high-fived each other. “That's it!” She slipped off her shoes and socks and rolled up the legs of her overalls. “We're playing my game now.”

    “We're not playing with your stupid dolls, Wendy.” Peter rolled his eyes, which resulted in a slap to the arm from his sister.

    “I'm not talking about dolls, stupid,” she said, turning out towards the field, which was currently being washed in rain. She juggled ideas for a moment, finally settling. “There are lots of rattata out there, right? Well, nobody's afraid of them. But what you didn't know is that, when it rains, the mutant rattata come out of their nests to hunt anything not smart enough to hide. They're called... rattattacks.”

    The boys raised their eyebrows, impressed. As Wendy spoke, foggy, dark shapes appeared in the distance, aggressively stalking through the grass.

    “We're here to find out what caused them to mutate,” she continued, brushing her now silky blonde hair behind her ears and smoothing out her lab coat. “Call me Doctor Winona, the leading expert on pokémon mutations.” Her voice was a full octave deeper. “You two can be my assistants.”

    “Benjamin Barracuda reporting,” Billy said dutifully, stepping to the doctor's side. He glanced at Peter, who appeared slightly more reluctant to bend to the girl's will. Finally, he sighed and threw his cape over a branch.

    “Patrick Scott,” he said dryly. “Let's get out there and track down th-”

    “I make the orders around here,” Winona snapped, hushing Patrick instantly. “Now let's get out there and track down some rattattacks.”

    Braving the rain, the squad of scientists moved forward, feeling the gaze of every mutant rattattack daring them to let down their guard.

    “They're very sneaky,” the woman whispered, just loud enough to be heard above the rain. “They'll pop up any- look out!” She shoved Patrick forcefully into the mud as a large, purple mess of muscles and veins leapt at him, dagger-like teeth bared. As soon as it landed, it was preparing for another attack, stopped only by a swift kick from Benjamin, which sent it squealing into the tall grass.

    “Get your guns ready!” Winona screamed, whipping a pistol out of seemingly nowhere and pointing it warily at the grass. Patrick was yanked out of the mud by his fellow assistant and they both retrieved their own weapons.

    “There!” Patrick yelled, blasting a bullet at a rustling bush. A shrill, pained squeak followed and the man smiled proudly. “Looks like I took first blood,” is what he would have said, all of the cockiness he could muster infecting every word, but he was unfortunately attacked by another furious rattattack. It clawed and bit, holding on despite Patrick's best efforts to push it off. The two fell to the ground together, scrambling in the splashing mud.

    “Stay still!” Winona commanded, closing one eye to get the best aim should could in the pounding rain. She shakily pointed the barrel at the creature, twitching constantly as the man rolled around underneath its attacks. “I can't get a good shot!”

    Gritting her teeth, she slowly applied pressure to the trigger.

    “Hurry, Doctor!” Benjamin warned, firing several shots into the surrounding mist as countless mutants intruded on their location. “They're surrounding us!”

    She screamed barbarically, finally squeezing the trigger. A bang louder than any before it silenced even the heavy static of the rain and vibrant red liquid rushed onto the ground, mixing with the mud. Slowly and awkwardly, Patrick pushed the dead rattattack off of him and climbed to his feet.

    “Good work, Doctor,” he grunted with a hint of resentment, wiping some mud off of his arms.

    “No time to talk!” She swung her pistol out towards the field, shooting a couple of rattattacks mid-air as they jumped. Patrick quickly took the hint and the three formed a triangle, all shooting outwards at the enclosing hoard of rattattacks.

    “We're not gonna make it!” Benjamin's blood ran cold as the horrifying click of his gun signaled his lack of ammunition. Winona's soon followed, as did Patrick's.

    “This is it!” The woman grabbed the hands of her assistants. “Just remember: we died in the pursuit of knowledge!” Content with her final words, she closed her eyes, prepared for the end.

    Instead however, every single one of their attackers piled on Patrick. After a few seconds of swatting them and screaming, he silenced himself a split second after Winona pronounced him dead.

    “Wait...” Benjamin mumbled, significantly calmer. “Why are they all attacking him?”

    She thought for a moment. “They must attack creatures with low IQ's. Yes! That's why the only attack stupid rattata and P-”

    “Shut up!” Patrick said, standing as if a group of insane rattattacks wasn't devouring his flesh.

    “You're dead!” she protested. “You can't just stand up!”

    “This game is stupid,” he said. “The last one was better. That's why we don't let you play with us.”

    The rain had gradually began to slow and was now at a drizzle.

    “I thought it was pretty fun,” Billy offered, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. “I'm kinda hungry, though. Let's head back to Pallet.”

    “But I'm not ready to go home!” Wendy yelled. “I wanna keep playing.”

    “Too bad,” Peter said. “You ruined our fun and now we have to back to town. Let's go.”

    “I'll race ya!” Billy shouted, running to his bike. Peter ran after him, agreeing.

    They both sped off, leaving the transportation-less girl behind with nothing to do but yell after them. Seeing it was doing no good, she stuck her bottom lip out and thought the worst things her mind was capable of about the two boys.

    “I'll play by myself,” she murmured, seeing the black cape hanging in the old tree. She ran over, yanked it down, and draped it over her shoulders. The rain had now stopped completely, allowing a sliver of golden sunlight to lie across the field. She walked until she was in the middle of the sunny strip, grabbing the stick that had once been a tree pinning her to the ground. In an instant, it was a gleaming sword.

    Meanwhile, pedaling as fast as he could muster, Peter glanced back and saw his sister swinging a stick wildly at nothing as his own cape blew carelessly on her back. He called to Billy and they both stopped and watched her for a few minutes.

    “She's so dumb,” Peter said. “Like, what loser plays all by themselves?”

    “Yeah,” Peter muttered, distracted. “Do you... do you think she's fighting off a pokémon...? Or is it another person?”

    “Who cares?” Peter puffed, also unable to take his eyes off the apparently epic battle. “She's an idiot...”

    “I think I'm gonna go check on her,” he replied, taking off slowly but gaining speed quickly. Peter let out an exaggerated groan but made sure not to let Billy beat him there.

    Once close enough, the boys found out they had just intruded on the territory of the toughest bandit on all of Route 1 and that, if they wanted to keep their lives, they would have to prove themselves in a duel.

    They, of course, obliged.
    Last edited: May 28, 2017
  2. This is a pretty far bump, eh? But with a premise like that I just had to leave a review, so...

    I like the way you intersperse the imagined scenes in the story and how you treat them as if they were real. It forces the reader to do a double-take because you transition so swiftly but smoothly at the same time, as if, again, you're mixing it with what's really happening. The imagined scenes are described rather nicely as well, so good job! :)

    My only nitpick though is that I didn't see "white" as much as I hoped for in the story? I do get that it's supposed to be mirrored in the innocence and purity of the situation [which is why I can't comment on the lack of conflict because, hey, it's not supposed to have any glaring ones] but since the story is already straightforward, then I have to go for the images. While like I said above your description is really good, I tried to get a feel of the whiteness of the piece, but IMO it isn't as "white" as it can be. Of course, telling you to include physical appearances of the color in the story may be a bit too much, but you need to do something to that extent - make the presence of white more than just symbolical, whether it be physical, metaphorical (which is different from symbolical), emotional (like your example of blue in the first post) or any other way. Again, I may be asking for too much, and this might not be part of what you're trying to do (in that, hey, you actually want the color to be minimal in appearance but visible enough to be noticed, like it is here) but with a series of one-shots revolving around colors, I'd want the colors to be prominent.

    Of course, this is only a suggestion with regards to imagery and to a lesser extent theme, so it can be easily discarded, in which case treat the above paragraph as ramblerambleramble and move on knowing that your writing here is very good. :)

    EDIT: Forgot to include this little grammar nitpick:

    I think you're lacking a word here.
    Last edited: Jan 6, 2013
  3. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Haha, don't worry about it. Progress is slow, but this is still technically active. And I always appreciate a review! :)

    I was extremely worried about the transitions between reality and the kids' imaginations, so I'm glad to hear you say that. Those transformations were something I really wanted to pull off, so I was very careful not to jump from one world to the next and leave the reader confused.

    The imagined scenes were a lot of fun to describe, if only because they were an excuse to be just a tad ridiculous. ;D

    I didn't really intend on including the physical presence of the color itself in the fic, just because the focus wasn't really intended to be the color so much as the theme associated with it. However, now that you mention it, I'm realizing that I just really like the idea of providing a little visual flare to the one-shots. After all, if a series of one-shots based on colors isn't a fair place to paint rainbows, then where is?

    As for an emotional presence, I definitely intend on utilizing that in one-shots governed more by emotions than ideas (like you said, a sad blue chapter would be all about sadness of the characters, situations, places, etc.) but White didn't focus on any particular emotion, but rather the concept of innocence (good guess, by the way!), which could be exemplified by joy, I suppose, but that's getting farther away from what I was trying to do. I could always have the characters toss off adorably naïve lines here and there to prove their innocence, but I feel like in this case it's more strongly displayed by the events of the chapter.

    It's definitely under consideration. :) Thank you so much for the review! I appreciate it so much.

    As for the status of the fic itself, I'm still working. School has been very time-consuming (bad excuse, I know, but it's all I've got!), but I've done a lot of work over the holiday break. Hopefully I can keep it up and get Green out sometime before 2014!
  4. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Well. It's been a while. Not only since I last put a piece of writing on the forums, but since I updated this! I'm a very irregular writer (especially during the school semester, when I have writing that I have to do), but this is honestly embarrassing, and I'm sorry if anyone just really liked this idea when I first posted White and looked forward to future installments.

    Don't worry, though, because now I'm bringing you Green! It's my first piece of purely enjoyable creative writing in a while, so it's a little rough. It was written over the period of a month or two (I think), and I spent the entire time not quite getting back into the swing of things. It was very fun to write, though, so hopefully that will at least translate. There are a whole lot of things I could say about this one, but instead I'll just shut up.

    (Also, I'd like to say Grey will be out soon, but I know better than to promise something like that.)


    On any given April morning, Viridian Forest was a sight to be seen. The rain was frequent but pleasant, the sun was warm but never hot, and everything – the glossy leaves, the springy grass, and even the lily pads floating lazily on the ponds – was green.

    Perfect for picnics and splendid for sightseeing, many families would stroll happily in the sunshine the entire day, taking in the marvelous but harmless views of the low-level bug pokémon. For weekend camping trips, there was no place better, and for anyone who found photography to his or her liking, the forest’s picturesque charms could hardly be resisted. When people were in the Viridian Forest, it was with the safe knowledge that whatever may happen in their city lives, nature would always be there to greet them.

    Some imposed on this hospitality more than others.

    “Okay, I’ma squat down in these flowers, and you take a picture from that tree over there,” Loretta said. “I’ll pretend like I’m pickin’ ‘em.” Her voice was so openly mouthed it was common for passersby to assume at least three sticks of bubblegum were tucked in her cheek, but its shrillness quickly eliminated the possibility of any muffling. Her thick Celadon accent – flat on vowels and nasally on consonants – certainly didn’t do anything to help soften her tone.

    Just as she had declared, she squatted into the small patch of yellow flowers as her husband snapped a photograph with the big black camera. She then pulled Dotty, their oddish, into frame and they took a picture together. With her large nose and bony arms, Loretta didn’t quite have the look of a typical model, but her hazel eyes, spacious and disarmingly sweet, could have been on billboards. In fact, they were a major factor in the pair deciding to move to Viridian City.

    “We gotta go someplace green,” she had said as they had been frantically packing the contents of their Celadon City apartment. She placed Dotty in a pot and sprinkled soil over her, promising she wouldn’t have to hide for long. “Green makes my eyes pop, and y’know color photography’s gettin’ better all the time. I could be a famous model or somethin’.” Lost in a dream, she clutched a stolen sun hat to her bosom and smiled. “Can you picture it, Eddie? Me!” However, the news report playing on the transistor radio reminded her that cops were currently scouring the city, and she snapped out of it and continued packing.

    Eddie grunted in response as usual. He had been a mechanic in downtown Celadon when Loretta had brought in a stolen motorcycle to get fixed. She had convinced him to go on a ride with her, and together they had held up a convenience store. She sometimes wondered what his life would have been like if she’d never dragged him out of that garage. Now, in their hotel room, he carefully folded Loretta’s favorite dress, originally stolen from the department store downtown. Later, as she had waited with their luggage at the train station, he had come back with two tickets to Viridian City, and off they had went.

    Viridian City had been everything they wanted: the cops didn’t look at them as if their faces were familiar, Dotty had plenty of dirt to dig around in, and, of course, everything was green. Sure, Celadon had been exciting, full of danger and glamor and totally unpredictable, but Viridian was quiet. Viridian was peaceful. Most importantly, Viridian was safe. Safety wasn’t something they were used to, but Loretta knew they desperately needed it.

    Still sitting in the grass, Loretta was choosing the perfect flower to pretend to sniff when the music playing from the transistor radio on Eddie’s belt stopped, interrupted by a news broadcast.

    “Attention Viridian City residents,” said the somber man through a curtain of static. Loretta and Eddie tensed. Emergency broadcasts were something they were all too familiar with. “We’ve just received word that Mrs. Betty Ward, who lived with her husband down on Clover Street, passed away this morning at the age of 83. In honor of her memory, it has been requested that we play her favorite song, ‘And the Angels Sing.’ This one goes out to you, Betty.”

    As the orchestra started playing, Eddie sighed and Loretta laughed nervously, and the two continued with the photoshoot. Truly, Viridian City was an entirely different pokémon than Celadon.

    Weeks later, Loretta was at the Globe Diner with a group of ladies, all of them sipping malts. She had joined the Women’s Society, and for the first time in her life found herself with a collection of female friends. No more gangsters, no more ex-cons, and no more greasy perverts.

    One of the girls said something cheeky, and the table erupted with laughter, Loretta included. Thanks to the fact that her days no longer involved sprinting into alleyways and hopping over fences, she had begun wearing more makeup. She also had more shoe choices than just flats, and she never felt prettier than when she walked around town in her red heels. Of course, none of the men whistled and hollered like they had in Celadon, but Loretta figured they were just too polite.

    “Okay,” Viola said primly, “I’m thinking a bake sale. We just don’t have enough money to fund the Benefit Ball like usual, so we’ll have to settle for a more modest fundraiser.” The group sighed collectively, but Loretta spoke up.

    “How come we don’t have the bake sale and then use the money to pay for the ball?” The concept of parlaying was something she had learned during her days of crime, which seemed ages ago already. “The bake sale don’t cost the Society nothin’, since we’ll all be paying for the food outta our own pockets, so it’ll be pure profit. Then we use that money to set up the ball, since the donated stuff we auction there’ll make more money than a buncha pies and cookies.”

    “That’s nice, Loretta,” Margie answered, “but I don’t think it’s right for the Women’s Society to be keeping the money it makes from one of its fundraisers. What if the Benefit Ball fails? We’d have no profits, and worse, we’d look like a sham. I say we just stick with the bake sale. It’s more reliable. Safer.”

    “How about a tournament, then?” she returned, trying not to seem too pushy. These weren’t the rough guys she was used to dealing with, and she didn’t want to step on any toes. “The kids love battlin’, and I betcha we could get away with chargin’ a pretty stiff entry fee.” She was sure it wouldn’t fail: she couldn’t turn a corner in Celadon without seeing a group of kids battling in the street. However, to drive her case home, she added, “It’ll cost next to nothin’ to set up as long as we got somebody to organize a bracket and make some rules. All we gotta do is find a field somewhere that nobody’s usin’.”

    “I really don’t think we want our name associated with fighting,” Jeanie scoffed. “Especially when the money is to support the abused.”

    “Then it’s settled,” Viola said quickly, spotting a spat-in-the-making. “We’ll have a bake sale. We’ll meet Friday at noon on the square. The abused children of Johto will just have to make do with a smaller donation. Don’t worry, Loretta,” she added quietly. “We’ll have the Benefit Ball next year for sure.”

    Loretta huffed and took a slow drag from her malt straw. Now she had to learn how to bake.

    Hours later, she was pulling a cake pan out of the oven, releasing a huge cloud of smoke into the kitchen. After a minute of violent coughing, she dropped the pan onto the table with a crash and threw her oven mitt to the floor. Dotty scrambled away while Eddie sat calmly.

    “Son of a bitch!” she yelled. It was black around the edges, and the middle had caved in. She kicked a table leg, still wearing her red high heels, and stormed out the front door and onto the porch. Eddie grabbed Dotty from behind the trashcan and followed his wife. He handed her the oddish, and Loretta instinctively began brushing her leaves, which slowed her breathing considerably.

    “Why’d we have to a stupid bake sale?” she vented, pacing. “Everybody does bake sales! I told ‘em we could do a tournament or somethin’, but they wouldn’t listen!!”

    Eddie nodded slowly.

    “They tried to act like they’s too good to associate themselves with battlin’!” she continued, her voice reaching new levels of shrillness. “Well I got news for ‘em: their little poker nights ain’t so holy either! If you can even consider it gamblin’, since they’re playin’ with jellybeans. I won six hands the other night, and they acted like I was cheatin’! For jellybeans! I don’t cheat for nothin’, and if I did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for candy. It ain’t my fault they can’t stop gigglin’ every time they get a good hand!”

    At this point, Eddie was snickering uncontrollably, shaking his head in disbelief. Loretta stopped and glared at him, but quickly cracked a smile herself.

    “I know this is stupid, hon,” she said more softly. “We used to have real problems, huh? I guess I should be grateful that a few crazy ladies is all I got. And that stupid cake.” She sat Dotty on the porch and wrapped her arms around him.

    “I know you miss your buddies back in Celadon,” she whispered. Other than his job cleaning the Pokémon gym on weeknights, Eddie barely left the house, spending most of his free time out in the shed. Loretta always made sure they went out somewhere on Saturdays so he wouldn’t be too lonely, but she knew it was a poor substitute to Celadon. “Thanks for supportin’ me and movin’ here. I know it’s borin’ and slow, but it’s safe, and that’s what we need. Especially if we wanna start a family.” She kissed him and undid her apron.

    “I’ll just buy some cookies tomorrow,” she declared, walking inside. “I’m gonna have a smoke and go to bed.”

    The next morning, she woke up alone in bed. She wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where she found Eddie, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He was hunched over the table, and as she walked closer, she saw he was decorating a cake. It was in the shape of a jigglypuff, and he was currently applying healthy amounts of pink frosting.

    She gasped, and he turned around in shock.

    “Baby,” she mumbled, staring at the perfect dessert. “It’s… gorgeous!” She swallowed as tears crowded her eyes. He was beginning to turn red. “I got the best husband,” she said quietly, the last word cut off as she pulled his head in for a long kiss. She then pushed off his chest, running toward the bedroom.

    “I’m gonna go to the store and get you some beers.” She stopped halfway up the staircase and turned back to him. “And the good kind, too, from the PokéMart, not that Slowpoke piss they sell down at Rodman’s.” With a wink, she disappeared upstairs, returning fully dressed.

    “When I get back,” she said, picking up Dotty, “we’re gonna have a little bondin’ time, ‘kay?” She giggled and pranced out the door.

    Without the aid of stolen income, they had been forced to severely reel in their spending, so the pristine shelves of the PokéMart looked almost heavenly. Rodman’s was always dirty, unevenly stocked, and it wasn’t uncommon for the food to be expired, so Loretta almost shed a tear when she saw the perfectly cut tauros steaks on the freezer shelf.

    Steak was her favorite.

    She leaned in, grimacing at the price. With a sigh, she backed away and found the beer.

    She was proud of herself. In Celadon, she would have snatched that steak right off the shelf and slipped it into her purse without a second thought. It felt good to live on the right side of the law for a change, without having to worry about the cashier seeing her. ‘Hell,’ she thought, picking up a case of six beers, ‘in this Podunk town, they’d probably think I was usin’ my purse as a shoppin’ cart or somethin’.

    She strolled casually back down the freezer aisle, her heels clicking dully on the shiny linoleum floor. Dotty followed behind her. She wanted one last look at the steaks. She figured it would give her something to work toward. An elderly woman was examining the Spoink chops, right next to the steaks. Loretta sidled up beside her, facing straight ahead while side-eyeing the lady.

    This was a sign, she was sure of it. The days of taking what she wanted when she wanted it were behind her. She was meant to live a life of the straight and narrow. A safe life. She could hang out with the girls from the Women’s Society. Have bake sales. Learn to sew. Have sixteen kids. Live to be a hundred. Die quietly from exposure from sitting on the porch on a cold winter night, her last thought of Eddie and the day he left her to go back to Celadon.

    Dammit, lady!’ she thought, kneeling down to inspect the quality of the steaks. ‘Pick a friggin’ chop already!’ She lifted a steak off the shelf and stood up, practically pressing her nose into the plastic as she examined the meat closer than ever before.

    “Can I help you?”

    She looked up and saw a PokéMart employee smiling next to her. “Oh,” she mumbled, “no thanks. I’m just lookin’, but I don’t think I have enough money on me.” She smiled nervously and set the steak back on the refrigerated shelf. Maybe next time, she thought.

    “How much do you need?” asked the old woman next to her, opening her large purple purse. She smiled, emphasizing the inexact application of her light blue lipstick. “My husband and I live on so little, and you look like you could use a little meat on those bones.”

    Loretta’s disappointment turned to guilt, and she shook her head quickly. “No, no, that’s alright,” she said, stepping away. “I’m just here for beer.” She lifted the case higher to show the woman and the employee, and then quickly paid and left.

    Can’t even steal somethin’,’ she thought, walking briskly down the sidewalk. ‘People here are too damn nice.’ She walked past a large, green yard full of people laughing and barbecuing, all dressed in nice, modest clothing. She looked down at her own tight pink dress and matching heels and felt a knot in her stomach even more tightly wound than when she had she had climbed down from the third story of Celadon Bank while the police were investigating inside. This time, however, she had no adrenaline to distract her.

    She saw some of the teenagers gawking at each other, and she wished she had a jacket to cover up.

    When she got home, Eddie was in the shed as usual. Without bothering him, she ran upstairs, cleaned off most of her makeup, and threw on a much more modest green dress and a pair of flats. She then grabbed the cake and Dotty and left for the bake sale.

    As soon as she arrived, she saw it wasn’t the sensation the Society had been hoping for.

    Tables were set up in the parking lot of the community center, covered with green tablecloths and lined with delicately decorated cakes and picture-perfect pies. However, other than the Women’s Society members, no one had shown up.

    “You’re late, Loretta,” Marianne chided in a singsong voice, adjusting her plate of eevee-shaped cookies ever so slightly.

    “Sorry,” Loretta said quickly, looking for a suitable open space on the tables. “On the bright side, it don’t look like the crowd’s come in yet, huh?” When she decided on a place, she saw that her cake would be right next to another, much more meticulously detailed jigglypuff cake. She felt as if the knot in her stomach had been tightened with a yank, but she swallowed hard, set her cake down, and picked a seat for herself in between Viola and Margie.

    “Your cake’s adorable,” Viola said, winking. “I’ve never been able to make specialty cakes. It’s always plain designs for me.”

    “Actually,” Loretta said, grinning, “Eddie’s the one who made it.” Scattered “aw’s” popped up from various ladies at the tables. “To tell you the truth, I ain’t no good at makin’ cakes either!”

    Viola giggled, but before she could add anything, Margie jumped in.

    “You mean you didn’t make your own cake?” She sniffed and then, more to the other ladies than Loretta, said, “That hardly seems fair, considering all the hours we put in to making our own food to sell.”

    Loretta wasn’t sure if her face was getting hot from embarrassment or anger, but she knew the high road was the best option either way. “Well, see, I tried makin’ a cake myself,” she said, patting Dotty in her lab, “but I don’t think it woulda made much money. So Eddie made a cake for me.”

    “I wish I could get my husband to bake,” Viola joked, elbowing Loretta playfully. “You’ve got yourself a good one, Loretta.”

    “Thankfully, my husband doesn’t have to cook.”

    Loretta didn’t see who said it, but she could tell by the bloated, poliwhirl-like croaking that it was Beatrice.

    “Hey,” she said, more sharply than she had intended. “I may not the best cook, but I get food on the table. I ain’t heard no complaints outta Eddie, and if–”

    “Girls!” Viola said, straightening up in her seat and plastering on a smile. Everyone looked out toward the sidewalk, where a man was approaching.

    “Bake sale, huh?” he asked gruffly, examining the baked goods covering the tables. Everyone sat perfectly quietly, each lady stiffening as he passed her own treat. He eventually settled in one area, and Loretta bit her lip while watching him. “How much for the jigglypuff one?”

    “Which one?” asked Jeanie, the apparent creator of the more impressive version of Loretta’s cake.

    “Uh… the big one,” he said plainly, pointing at Loretta’s.

    She stood up quickly, bumping into the table but correcting her balance. “Thank you for your interest, sir,” she said slowly, straightening her accent carefully like she would a piece of bent wire. “I made that particular cake, and it is priced at eight dollars.” She smiled, bowed slightly, and sat back down.

    He scratched his stubbly chin and then shrugged, pulling eight dollar bills from his wallet. “I’ll take it.” He handed the money to Viola, who had the moneybag, and carried away the jigglypuff cake.

    “First sale goes to Loretta!” Viola sung, making a big show of putting the money in the plastic bag. “Congratulations!”

    “Looks like size wins this time,” Jeanie said rigidly. “Speaking of,” She looked toward Loretta, “I must say, I like your dress. It’s not quite as… tight as the ones you usually wear.”

    “Yeah, Viola said Viridian might not be ready for that Celadon fashion,” Loretta answered, too excited from her minor victory to take offense at Jeanie’s tone. “So I decided to wear somethin’ a little less revealin’, y’know, at least for the bake sale.”

    “Oh, good,” Beatrice moaned, resting her chubby cheek on her hand. “At least we get to look forward to more of your cleavage at future meetings.”

    “Beatrice,” Viola snapped,” don’t be rude.”

    “It’s fine,” Loretta said quietly. “It’s nothin’ I can’t handle.” However, she could feel her breathing getting shallower, and she almost felt like she might cry, which only made her angry at herself for being so sensitive.

    “I agree with Beatrice,” Ramona interjected loudly, flinging spittle onto her uncovered brownies. “I really don’t think the Women’s Society’s good name should be associated with sex.”

    As Viola attempted to calm the ladies, Loretta rapidly brushed Dotty’s leaves, breathing in and out quickly. A fat guy nicknamed Chops had once slapped her across the face, and she had kicked him in the crotch and stolen his rings. Now, as the knot in her stomach seemed to vibrate from the sheer tension with which it was being pulled, she could only sit quietly as a group of bony women tossed off witless insults at her.

    “I just don’t think it’s fair!” Mary Katherine said, fiddling with her bracelet. “Of course people are going to buy her cake! She’s dressed like a streetwalker! What chance do we have?”

    “You think I’m pocketin’ this?” Loretta said, more harshly than she had intended. “It’s all for the society! Maybe if you’d learn a thing or two about advertising,” she continued, never breaking eye contact, “your cake would’a been sold already.”

    “Advertising!” Beatrice howled. “You mean strutting around town in heels and lingerie? I’m sure we’d sell a lot more than cakes!”

    “Yeah, you might sell those poker chips you call cookies,” Loretta spat back, dropping Dotty onto the table as she quickly stood up. She then swept her eyes across the entire group of ladies. “You’re all just bitter that your food ain’t been sold yet. But if we would’a listened to me, we’d be makin’ tons of money with a pokémon tournament!”

    “There she goes again with that battling nonsense,” Mary Katherine drawled, rolling her eyes.

    “It ain’t nonsense!” Loretta said sharply. “It was a good idea, and it would’a made more money than this sorry excuse for a fundraiser.

    “You ladies act so nice and innocent, but you ain’t got no more class than I do. You made me feel like some kinda jerk when I was just tryin’ to help. And now you’re payin’ for it, ‘cause this thing ain’t makin’ no money, and those kids you pretend to care about ain’t gettin’ jack squat outta this.”

    “Well, honey,” Ramona growled, “if you hate us so much, feel free to leave.”

    “I will,” she said, her entire face rigidly locked into a defiant expression. “I ain’t gotta waste my time on some club that don’t want me. I’m happier at home with my husband. And this stupid dress,” she continued heatedly, “the one you all seem to like so much,” she grunted, tugging at the coarse, green fabric, “is too stiff and hot!” She pulled it over her head, and the group of ladies screamed at the seemingly imminent threat of nudity at one of their events. However, Loretta stopped when her nose and mouth were covered, leaving only her wavy blonde hair and glaring hazel eyes exposed.

    “Dotty!” she said, muffled from the dress and even harder to hear amongst all the hysterical shouting around her. “Use sleep powder!”

    Perking up considerably, Dotty waved her leaves around energetically, and tiny yellow spores flew out of her in waves, covering the parking lot in only moments. The ladies’ sharp emotions were dulled considerably by drowsiness, and eventually everyone except Loretta and Dotty was hunched over the table, sleeping heavily.

    Once the powder had settled safely on the asphalt, Loretta uncovered her face. She then dug through the ladies’ purses, skipping Viola, and took ten dollars out of each, finally throwing her own purse onto the table and unbuttoning the top pocket. “I don’t mind takin’ you guys’ money,” she muttered bitterly, plucking a twenty from her wallet, “but I ain’t stealin’ from no abused kids.” Arranging all the bills she had collected in a neat pile, she stuck it in Viola’s moneybag and picked up Dotty. Allowing herself just one moment’s thrill, she stole a cookie from Marianne’s plate before she walked back home.

    When she got there, the house was empty. She looked everywhere, and then walked out to the shed, where she assumed Eddie must be.

    “Honey,” she said tiredly, knocking on the tin door. “Baby, I did somethin’ real bad.” She heard nothing, but that was no surprise, so she continued. “I thought comin’ here would be good for us, y’know? Like, I thought gettin’ away from the city would make us better people. But I just feel worse. And meaner. And madder.” She sunk to the ground, getting dirt on the green dress she hated. Dotty sat next to her.

    “I put the ladies to sleep, like I used to do at restaurants. Remember?” She smiled softly and absently rubbed Dotty’s slick leaves with her fingers. “But I didn’t even get nothin’ out of it. I gave all the money to charity,” she said, throwing her hands into the air. “And I don’t even feel good about it.”

    She sat quietly for a second, before finally climbing back to her feet. “I’m gonna go make dinner,” she said faintly, after a long sigh. “Sandwiches okay?” Right before she left, the door cracked open, and Eddie peeked out at her from the pitch-black room. She started to ask him if he had heard her, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside, shutting the door quickly behind her.

    They were in a tiny curtained area, and once the door was shut and darkness returned, Eddie parted the thick cloth. Loretta gasped.

    Bathed in dim red light, four shallow basins filled with different liquids sat on a table. Hanging everywhere on strings attached at various points on the walls were fully developed photographs. Loretta walked slowly, careful not to touch anything, and got closer to one of the photos. She saw that it – and all of the pictures – were from their photoshoot in the Viridian Forest. Her lip quivered, and she felt like her face projected more red than the light bulb.

    “Oh, Eddie,” she whispered, placing her hand on her chest. With her other hand, she gently took hold of the photograph, examining it closer. “These are… wait.” She furrowed her brow and plucked the picture out of the clothespin’s grasp. She then quickly shuffled through the curtain and out the door, Eddie close behind. In full daylight, she saw all the details.

    “I look awful!” she shouted, letting her arms fall limply at her side at she stared blankly forward. “I look freakin’ terrible,” she mumbled, biting her lip. She turned around and faced Eddie, her mouth still slightly open.

    Eddie was slowly approaching her. Before he could wrap her in his arms, however, he giggled.

    “You’re… laughing?” Loretta asked, eyes widening. “You think this is funny?” He was laughing even harder now, and his whole body was shaking. “You’re just as mean as those ladies!” she yelled, beginning to smile herself. “The whole reason we moved here,” she said, her nostrils widening as a full-blown grin took over face, “was because I thought green was my color! And look at this!” She waved the photo in his face and grabbed his arm for support as both of them panted for air. “I look like a nidoking!”

    They screamed and collapsed into the grass, holding each other tightly. Loretta buried her face into Eddie’s chest to contain her shrieks of laughter. After several minutes, they both lay down, holding their stomachs.

    “I’m sorry, honey,” she mumbled, patting the ground until she found his hand. “I can’t believe I thought this would be a good idea. I just don’t know anymore, y’know? I don’t think havin’ kids is worth livin’ like this.” She scooted closer to him. “I’m startin’ to wonder if bein’ shot in the head in my thirties would be better than dyin’ from boredom when I’m eighty.” He laughed lazily in return, and she rolled over, pushing herself up so she could look him in the eyes.

    “Wha’d’ya say, babe? Let’s ditch this place and go back home. We can crash our car runnin’ from the cops. Get in a shootout with a gang. Or we can just keep just keep livin’ forever, you, me, and Dotty, robbin’ banks every day.” As if on cue, the oddish scampered over. Loretta grinned at her and looked back at her husband with pleading eyes. “It’s your choice. We can even… we can even stay here if you want.”

    Eddie looked sternly back at her with a cocked eyebrow. He had spent their entire time in Viridian reading, making friends at work, and relaxing. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had stability. He didn’t have to worry about prison or gun wounds or dying. He was safer than he had ever been. Leaning up, he came face to face with Loretta, who was staring at him nervously. Never smiling, he took a deep breath.

    “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2015
  5. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    I may or may not have read that as "Bananas Bigsby". :T

    Eddie, you are officially a sweetie pie.

    I'll bet that stuff got all over the cookies and such. Good thing what's-his-face got his cake when he did.

    Of the two, I think I actually liked White best, despite having had more to react to in Green. I couldn't help but smile when it became clear that it was all some kids playing pretend. And I love that the imagination didn't stop there. Can't go wrong with mutant rats, even if they aren't real.

    With further regard to Green: loved that ending. So happy for Loretta not having to stick around with that stuffy, shaming, boring arses' club. :p
  6. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    It's too bad you noticed your mistake, since Bananas Bigsby is a much more interesting name, haha.

    Luckily, Loretta's thievery is probably a more effective fundraiser than the ladies' treats. But yeah, at least someone went home happy!

    To be honest, I kind of like White more too. As a writer and a reader, I lean much more heavily toward more casual, loosely plotted stories than ones that have a clear goal in mind (not that Green isn't pretty casual, but White just kind of observes some characters for a while, whereas Green spends most of its time building toward an ending). They were both fun to write, though, and I'm glad you enjoyed it! Also, wrote a non-Pokemon version of White for a creative writing class, and it was well received, so that's pretty neat I guess.

    Thank you! Passing up a sappy ending is one life's most difficult challenges for me, so it's great to hear that this one was moving enough to make up for its cheesiness. I'm sure it helped that the Women's Society was by and large a group of pills, so anyone would want to do what Loretta did.

    Thanks for the review! Also, looking at the front page of the fic forum, you've been reviewing like crazy, so kudos on all the hard work! I'm sure you're making a lot of people (like me!) happy.
  7. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    It took writing partial amounts of a few different versions, but I finally managed to get out a satisfactory "Grey." It's strange, since I knew roughly what this one would be about for a long time, but whenever I tried to write something for it, I ended up hating it before I could finish. Even this one had to be revised a couple of times, but thankfully it made it out alive. I hope it's not too boring, even if it is a boring color.


    The door of the Lawrence family household swung open, and twelve-year-old Tina stood in the entrance, just a jittery silhouette against the sunset behind her.

    “I did it!”

    Her parents shielded their eyes as the grey room was cast in orange light. “Did what?” her mom asked.

    “I mean, it’s not a big deal,” she answered, strutting inside as her meowth followed. “I was just at the park today, playing with Claude, and I was like, ‘Let’s get a Boulderbadge!’”

    Her parents’ eyes widened. “Honey,” her dad said, standing and raising his hands toward her. “Quiet down, okay? Your grandpa’s sleeping.”

    “So I headed down to the gym!” she continued, oblivious to her father’s plea. “Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Tina, Brock’s too strong! You’ve lost three times! It could be years before Claude’s strong enough to beat him.’” She took a carton of milk from the fridge and poured herself a glass, taking a long, triumphant gulp before she continued. “Well, he’s tough, I’ll give him that. The thing is, though… I’m tougher.” She tugged her necklace from where it had been hanging inside her shirt, revealing a Boulderbadge that she had clipped next to the butterfree pendant.

    “That’s great, Tina,” her mom said, having quickly shuffled from the couch to the kitchen. “Let’s go talk about it on the porch.”

    “Oh, it was a hard battle for sure, Mom, but don’t worry!” She downed the milk. “Your girl looks sweet, but she’s trained Claude to kill.”

    “Tina, quiet!”

    “What’s that!?” The question came from upstairs. It was her grandfather’s voice, cracking from the exerted force of yelling. What followed was thirty seconds of slow clunking and eventual creaking as he made his way down the staircase, arriving in the kitchen with the rest of the family. “What’s going on down here?”

    “Just Tina being silly like always,” Mrs. Lawrence said, taking her father by his bony shoulders and faking a laugh. “Let’s watch some TV, Pop.”

    “Yeah, Louie,” Mr. Lawrence agreed boisterously. “The game’s about to come on!”

    “I got my first badge, Grandpa! I used that attack you taught me the other day when we were practicing in the backyard! Shadow claw, remember? It was awesome!” She ran up to him and stretched the badge as close to his face as the gold-painted chain would allow. “It looks the same as the one you have in your case!”

    He squinted, wondering for the umpteenth time why he wore glasses if he still had to squint at things. “So it is! A little shinier, but I guess they’re still using the same badge after all these years!” He coughed. “Nice work, sweetie! You’re ready to head off.”

    “Yep!” She grinned and turned toward her parents. “I’ve already got my bag packed! I’m leaving in the morning!”

    “Maybe you should wait a little while,” her dad suggested. “You’re already two weeks into summer vacation. If you wait till next sum-”

    “You guys promised,” she said, rubbing her badge. “You said beating Brock would prove Claude’s strong enough to defend me. And he is!” Claude, having found a comfortable spot to lounge on the couch, meowed his agreement.

    “We thought it would take longer,” her father muttered.

    “You’ll never forget this summer,” Louie said, leaning against the kitchen island for support. “Friends, enemies, pokémon. The whole shebang.”

    While he and Tina excitedly mused about the road ahead, her parents exchanged glances, followed by long sighs.

    “Well, I’d better get packing!” Louie declared. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow!”

    Tina fell silent and her parents’ heads drooped.

    “Pack…? We…?” She looked around for clarification. “Are you… coming with me?”

    “Of course! You’ll need a guide!”

    “Your grandpa insisted on coming with you,” her mother explained. “He thinks you’ll be safer with… an experienced trainer. But I really think too much walking won’t be good for him and his knees.” She looked at Louie. “He might want to stay home.”

    “I’ve travelled this country once, little missy, and I’ll do it again. Don’t think you can stop me either. I’m the parent here, and what I say goes.” With an indignant head nod, he turned around and climbed back up the stairs, making gratuitous use of the handrail. Creak after creak, he made his way upward, ambled to his room, and slammed the door.

    Sixty years ago, nobody would have dreamed of doubting his ability. Back then, a man could make his own decisions, even if he wasn’t a man yet. The sky had been a brilliant orange on the morning of his tenth birthday, and Louie had hopped out of bed, grabbed his nidoran’s poké ball, and was out the door before his mother even had time to start making breakfast. She had kissed him on the forehead and said goodbye without complaint.

    He had been so full of youthful energy as he ran to Dennis’s house. They had planned to leave together, but on the way to his house Louie was stopped by Cheryl, who wore a smug grin.

    “You leaving today?” He nodded, and she put her hands on her hips. “That must mean you have the Boulderbadge already, right?” She tugged at the lapel of her blue dress, drawing attention to the badge she had pinned there.

    Louie’s face turned red. “Where’d you get that!?” he demanded.

    “I won it yesterday,” she said. “I was waiting on you guys before I went to Cerulean, but I don’t know if I want to travel with trainers who don’t have any badges. People might get the wrong idea about the kind of company I keep.”

    “You better shut up!” he shouted, crossing his arms. “We wouldn’t wanna travel with you anyway!”

    “Too intimidating?” She demurely put her hands behind her back and smiled.

    “No!” He kicked a rock. “I could get that badge if I wanted to! If you did it, anybody can!”

    She raised an eyebrow. “Then do it.”

    “Fine!” he said through gritted teeth. “Come with me! I want you to see when I win!”

    After getting Dennis, the trio had gone straight to the gym. After three days of losing, training, and losing again, he and Dennis had finally scored two Boulderbadges, but Cheryl was no slouch in repeatedly pointing out that it had only taken her two tries. Thus, it became a race: First one to get a Cascadebadges won bragging rights. They headed out that day.

    None of them would have predicted that sixty years later, Louie would be getting ready to leave Pewter City again, starting a brand new journey.

    “We tried to talk him out of it,” Tina’s father said after Louie disappeared up the stairs. Leaning against the fridge and closing his eyes, he continued. “He just wouldn’t listen. You know how stubborn he is.”

    “He just wants to protect you, honey.”

    “That’s what Claude’s for!” Tina began pacing back and forth. “Grandpa can’t walk all that way, and even if he can, it’ll be Christmas before I get back! Look, I love Grandpa, but this is my thing! I want to go alone.”

    “Be nice,” her mother said. “Once you guys get going, I’m sure he’ll realize it’s too much. Until then, there’s no convincing him.” She put her hands on Tina’s cheeks. “You’ll get the summer you wanted, sweetie, I promise. You’ll just have Grandpa there for the first day or two, okay?”

    Tina crossed her arms and intently studied the tile floor. Finally, she nodded.

    “It’ll be fun,” her dad insisted. “Grandpa knows a lot about pokémon. He can probably teach you a thing or two.”

    “I wanted to learn for myself,” she mumbled, turning toward the stairs. Claude hopped off the couch and followed her up, leaving her parents to look tiredly at each other before settling back in front of the television.

    The next, morning, Tina’s energy was boundless. ‘Okay,’ she thought. ‘Could be better, not gonna lie. But it’s still gonna be great! Me and Claude’ll be champions!’

    The moment her eyes opened, she bounded out of her pink bed, getting dressed at lightning pace and scooping up her backpack. “Claude!” she yelled, stuffing her curly black ponytail through the opening in the back of her baseball cap. She was shaking and felt as if she couldn’t move fast enough. “Wake up!” The meowth raised his head from the mess of sheets on the bed and meowed curiously. “We’re leaving!” He hopped onto the hardwood floor and followed her with a yawn, choosing a casual pace that left him in the dust of his trainer’s sprint.

    Down the hall, Louie was sitting on the edge of his creaky, grey bed. It had become a habit for him to spend a few minutes building up his strength in the morning, ensuring that he would be prepared for the battle between his weight and his degenerated muscles. Finally, with a clenched jaw, he shakily pushed himself into a standing position and assumed a hunched position.

    He straightened and curled his fingers a few times, feeling a semblance of grip coming back to him as the joints loosened. He then coughed several times, clearing out the phlegm that had built up during the night. Finally, he resolved himself to get ready and slowly dragged his feet toward the closet, which was filled with a selection of muted tones.

    After getting dressed with the assistance of a sturdy nightstand, he made his way to the mirror.

    “Well, Lou,” he said, attempting a boyish smile but only emphasizing his wrinkles. “It’s time for part two.” He attempted to fashion his wispy grey hair into something presentable, but he finally settled on a Pewter Gym baseball cap that had faded from years of use.

    The whole thing took about twenty-five minutes, and when he got downstairs, Tina was sitting on the couch. Her parents had been whispering something, but as soon as Lou got downstairs, they stopped and smiled at him.

    “Looks like you two are ready to go!” Mrs. Lawrence said. She turned toward her daughter. “Call us at every Pokémon Center, okay? If more than two weeks go by without hearing from you, the next call is gonna be to the cops to report a missing child.” They hugged and Tina’s mother wiped a tear from her eye. “I love you.”

    “Don’t get too friendly with any strangers,” her dad advised. “There’s a lotta wackos out there. Love you, sweetie.” He hugged her, slipping her some extra cash. Added up with the money they had given her earlier, she had a pretty respectable sum to start out her journey.

    “I’ll be there every step of the way,” Lou said, already feeling the weight of his backpack. “Let’s get going, Tina! We’ve got some memories to make!”

    Tina, visibly relieved, hopped off the couch, and after several extra “I love you”s and kisses, the pair was on the road.

    The beginning of their journey was filled with tales from the old days, advice for living on the road, and battle tips. Some of it Tina had heard before – in particular, Louie had always tended to fall back on the story of seeing what he claimed was an Articuno flying overhead while he was in the Safari Zone – but most of it was fresh and legitimately useful. He brought up things she hadn’t even considered, like how to make a fire or the fact that she should teach Claude something like aerial ace to deal with fighting types. After nearly four hours of travel, Tina felt a little more educated. However, she realized with agony that after all that time, they had only just reached the edge of Pewter City.

    “We’re really flyin!” Louie said, not a single hint of sarcasm in his croaky voice. When his granddaughter audibly groaned, he nervously smacked his lips and pulled the straps of his backpack, trying unsuccessfully to relieve any of the weight from his aching shoulders. “But maybe we can go a little faster, huh?” Bracing himself, he began briskly walking across the dirt path, Tina comfortably keeping pace.

    ‘Feet,’ he thought. Even his mind’s voice couldn’t speak without conveying misery. ‘Knees. Even my hands, dammit.’ He longed for the days when he could travel for days on end without ever feeling a thing, inconveniently forgetting that those days hadn’t actually existed.

    When he was ten, he, Cheryl, and Dennis had very much felt the pains of the road. Before they even arrived at Mt. Moon, their feet were all throbbing with the promise of fresh blisters, but of course none of them admitted it.

    “You better hurry up, boys!” Cheryl called from up ahead, maintaining a comfortable lead in order to hide the occasional tear. Mt. Moon towered in the distance, a dark brown cap to the rolling green fields of Route 3. “I don’t know if I can hang back with you if this is the speed you’re going.”

    “You could get there days earlier and it wouldn’t make a difference!” Louie yelled back, yelping despite himself when he stepped on a pointy stone. “You’ll be stuck trying to get the Cerulean badge for weeks!”

    “You guys… are both… gonna lose… to me…” Dennis muttered halfheartedly, wincing with each step. He hadn’t intended to be dragged into this miserable battle of wills, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to complain and lose.

    Fighting every urge to stop or cry out, Louie settled instead on simply wringing his hands. High-tech arch support was a luxury none of them could afford, so he knew if he could just hold out a little bit longer, somebody would ask for a break. Agonizing minutes passed by, and when he finally took a breath to announce his resignation, Cheryl stopped dead in her tracks.

    “You guys want to stop for snacks?” she suggested meekly.

    Tightening his face to hide the relief, Louie asked if the hike was too tough for her. “We can stop if you need a break.”

    She glared and turned back around. “Never mind. Let’s k-”

    “Wait!” he and Dennis yelled.

    “Snacks sound good actually,” said Louie, practically falling to the ground. The other two joined him, and they spent the next couple of hours talking about the kind of Pokémon they would find in Mt. Moon, battle strategies for Cerulean Gym, and how excited they were to finally leave the grey of Pewter City behind. Cheryl passed around cream for any potential blisters, bringing their unspoken contest to a close.

    Thankfully, their sore feet didn’t stick around too long. The problem would always rear up again occasionally, but their soles became progressively rougher and thicker, and it would take another sixty years before Louie realized he had lost that toughness. He still refused to complain, but for different reasons this time around.

    Every step shook his brittle old body, and although he hated himself for it, he requested a little too eagerly that he and Tina rest for a bit. They found a good ledge and sat down.

    He found sitting to be no true relief. Tina, on the other hand, was already munching on a sandwich, feeding pieces to Claude intermittently.

    “You having fun?”

    “Yeah,” she answered unconvincingly.

    Pewter City was still close enough to see.

    “You know, Mt. Moon’s got a pretty good view when you hike up to the top. When I was your age, we went up there, made a campfire, and told ghost stories. I’ve got some pretty good ones, so you’d better get ready to be scared outta your wits.”

    “Yeah,” she said again. Her feet, hanging off the edge, kicked back and forth. “We’ll see.”

    Louie looked down at his knobby kneecaps and coughed.

    “Grandpa,” she said. “Do you think you should maybe g-”

    “Are you guys trainers?”

    Louie and Tina quickly looked behind them, seeing a young man standing rigidly and clutching a poké ball.

    “You wanna battle?”

    Tina jumped up. “Yeah!” Claude hopped forward, and Louie shakily climbed to his feet. “What’s your name?”

    “Arthur. You?”

    “Tina.” She smiled widely. Finally a battle with something other than bugs, pidgey, or onix.

    Arthur threw his poké ball, releasing a sleeping abra. Tina now smiled even wider, looking back at her grandfather and raising her eyebrows.

    “You ready?” she asked turning back around. When the other trainer nodded, she issued a shadow claw command, and the battle was on.

    Four tries. That was how long it had taken Louie to beat the Cerulean City gym leader. Cheryl managed it in two, and Dennis was the surprise winner with only one try thanks to his hardworking little poliwag.

    After his first loss, Louie had spent a good two hours studying a battling guidebook in the pokémon center. It hadn’t helped with the gym, but it did help him later on when he needed a berry to heal his pokémon’s poison condition. It was his desperation that brought back the memory of the helpful ingredients section, and although it wasn’t ingenuity exactly, he still felt awfully proud at his ability to handle the situation.

    And now Tina was handling her own situation – and quite adeptly – while he stood proudly in the background.

    With a finishing fury swipes attack, abra was out, and the two young trainers were shaking hands.

    “Great battle!” Tina said. “Your abra was awesome!”

    “Your meowth was better, though,” he said shyly, smiling. “Hey, um. Are you going to Cerulean? I am, and… well, I don’t have anyone to go with. You wanna walk together? It’s fine if you don’t.”

    “Uh, yeah! You have to show me where you got that pokémon!” They both grinned.

    “You go on ahead, Tina.” Louie was standing with his hands in his pockets. “I think it’s time for me to head back home.”

    “You’re leaving?” She picked up Claude and held him snugly. “Why? I thought you were coming with us.”

    He knocked on his knees and shrugged. “I don’t think this ol’ body’ll take me much further. Don’t you worry, though. You go have fun, and I’ll call your parents and get them to pick me up.”

    Tina bit her lip and looked at him for several seconds. She then turned to Arthur. “I’ll meet you at the pokémon center tonight, okay?” They said goodbye, and he took off slowly to the east.

    “Tina, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, hobbling toward a boulder and sitting down. “You’re wasting daylight.”

    “I know you’ll be fine, Grandpa.” She sat next to him. “You’re the one protecting me, remember?” She leaned against him. “I have all summer to be away from home, though. I’d rather wait here with you while you’re still close.”

    He put his arm around her. “I appreciate that, kiddo. You’re still gonna call, right?”

    She nodded. “I’ll need trainer tips, and Mom and Dad are clueless,” she said, eliciting a wheezy laugh from her grandfather. “You’re like the only one who gets it.”

    They waited together for over an hour, chatting casually. They talked about the kind of pokémon she would find in Mt. Moon, battle strategies she could use at the Cerulean Gym, and how excited she was to finally be leaving the grey of Pewter City. It wouldn’t be forever, she promised. It just had to be long enough to have stories of her own to tell.
    Last edited: Jul 20, 2015
  8. So after I read this, I was all, wow, that's exactly the kind of emotional tug I love from stories like this, but then I read this line

    And I literally screamed at how amazing that ending is. While the quietness is expected from such a theme, how you bring it all together by the end was really great. I was wondering why you focused a lot on the flashbacks, but then I get to that last line and I thought, damn, that was clever.

    As I mentioned above, my favorite parts have to be the flashbacks. It's great how we're given context on Louie's stubbornness, and it's nice to see a parallel between a beginning journey now versus a beginning journey then. At first, I thought you'll be highlighting how different it is with Louie's remark on the Boulderbadge, but seeing the idea of "journeying" as something that seems to be unchanged through generations makes the exchanges between Louie and Tina even sweeter. I also like how you eased Tina in to appreciating Louie's presence. While I thought the shift in her actions in the ending was a bit sudden, I chalked it up to their sense of family, as the ending does reveal that she seems to be closer to her grandpa than her parents.

    But speaking of which, I was just a bit confused with how you presented Tina's parents. At the start, I thought this was going to be one of those cases where parents don't allow their children to leave because "it's too dangerous" and all. So when it was revealed that it was because of Louie, I got a bit confused as to why the parents reacted so negatively to the thought of Tina leaving. I was especially curious about this line:

    It implies that her parents don't really see Tina as ready, which is why they gave her the condition of winning the Boulderbadge before actually leaving, but it doesn't really come up again outside of their reminders when she's leaving. So by the end, I thought their hesitation was because of Louie's insistence to go with her, but then I don't know how I could match that with their worry about Tina's capabilities. If they don't want Tina to leave because she "isn't ready yet", why would they be against a guardian going with her? And if they didn't want Louie to go with her, then why were they so hesitant for Tina to leave? (I mean, I have this grim headcanon that they'd think next summer Louie's physical condition would make it impossible to go with her, but I'm gonna assume they're not that heartless.) I just didn't know what to make of Tina's parents, especially since the second half of the story doesn't really deal with them outside of that mention in the end, so I guess a bit more clarity in their motivations at the start would be good.

    That's pretty much overshadowed though by how good the story gets once it gets going, and again, that amazing ending. Really great job with this, and I'm glad you're posting more of Chromatic! Can't wait for Blue. :D
  9. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Thank you! Originally, the story didn't have any flashbacks, but I thought it needed something extra to push it further. I'm glad it worked out!

    Yeah, my idea wasn't that journeying isn't so different, but Louie definitely is. I think I agree that the ending's a little off, though. It's not so much that Tina suddenly wants Louie to come or that she wants to stay home or anything. It's more that she didn't get to say goodbye to him (since, y'know, he came), so she's suddenly confronted by the idea that she'll be leaving him too, and since she is closer to him, it makes her a little more emotional. But her ideal situation is definitely pressing on without her grandfather, and I think I might try to make that more clear.

    I hate to tell you this, but your grim headcanon is pretty much right on. I didn't want it to come off as heartless, although it could definitely be taken that way. It's just that they know Louie's either gonna be too old to go with Tina or he's gonna be in a physical condition just good enough to leave and potentially get hurt. For sure not the most sensitive thing to say, but I like to think it comes from a place of concern. The Boulderbadge condition was genuine, though; they didn't want to send her out into the wild without some kind of proof that she can take care of herself. They just didn't think she'd achieve it as soon as she did.

    Thank you so much! Chromatic's so relaxing for me, since I can write it whenever I get inspiration, but I don't have to worry about leaving people on a cliffhanger or anything. I'm glad you liked it, and I'll try to get Blue out soon-ish!
  10. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    Sounds like it's time for some different glasses!

    Okay that? Is frankly adorable.


    I'll admit, I didn't immediately cotton on when it shifted into a flashback, at least the first time around. But after that one I was able to roll with them just fine.

    This was an adorable installment. I look forward to the next :)
  11. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Right? Or some far superior laser eye surgery they must have surely developed with the Pokemon world's fancy technology (unless you figure that the total lack of regular hospitals means that most of the medical technology is going toward Pokemon, but that gets into a whole headcanon territory that I'm not trying to talk about here, haha).

    Thank you! I was actually imagining an older professor of mine when I wrote that, and I was hoping the cuteness in my head would translate to the page. In general, I was hoping that some of the sweeter moments in this (and other one shots) wouldn't come off as too cheesy. A lot of the time I lean toward happy endings, so I try to be careful not to get too sugary. Then again, I guess it's okay for some stories to whole hog with the sweetness, so if this one veered into that territory it wouldn't be the worst thing.

    Looking at it, I can see how it might be a little unclear. I'll try to add something a bit more explicit, like "Sixty years ago" or something. But thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad you liked it! If I follow through on my current plans for Blue, it should be quite a bit different from the three so far, so hopefully it's not too terrible, heh.
  12. katiekitten

    katiekitten The Compromise

    <3333 This series really is lovely! I've been seeing you around for a while, and it was a pleasure to finally read one of your works. Even if my feedback is a month too late. Ah well.

    Feedback will mostly be on Grey, although I can't go any farther without telling you how WONDERFUL I found 'White'. The blurring of the distinctions between the imagined scenarios and reality was just LOVELY- and it really threw me back into my own childhood, where I was exactly like Willow. Really great. The children felt really believable - the mixture of compassion and an edge of cruelty, sibling antagonism... How they played together truly made it for me. As did the closing lines.

    :') the fickleness and quickly resolved nature of childish arguments... Reminds me all too much of my sister and I, in the best of ways. Upset one moment, all forgotten the next. <3333

    On Grey:



    x3 Really great...! I love how you explore different relationships in these sketches - one moment siblings, the next cross-generational <3 The love between the grandfather and his granddaughter really emerged at the end, where despite her frustrations they still shared this wonderful moment as they waited for her parents to come... And the fun exploration of the experience of old age through Louie. Humorous, while not eliding the realities of his situation - he is old, he can't travel and adventure anymore, and he is having to accept that, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing... I don't know, I liked it. :3 A positive, fun way to look at a reality that can be grim or the sign of a life well lived, depending on how you look at it - which I appreciate.

    I also had a little difficulty, though, like Sike, distinguishing the first flashback from the bulk of the story! The rest of the transitions were spot on, well flagged, but this one...

    The shift from Old-Louie's reminiscing to a Young-Louie flashback isn't really flagged enough - I initially thought you'd accidentally switched Tina's pronouns, and it took me an embarrassing amount of time to cotton on (I thought it was really odd that Tina's grandfather was yelling at one of her friends for also having won a Boulder badge...). Changing the tense of the bolded sentences to pluperfect seems to do the trick, though. 'The sky had been a brilliant orange, casting his shadow back as he'd ran to Dennis’s house. They had planned to leave together, but on the way to his house Louie had been stopped by Cheryl, who'd worn a smug grin.' That way you can introduce the scenario in past perfect/pluperfect like you do with the other transitions, a way that signals that the ensuing scene is set in the far past rather than the present, removing the confusion.

    OR page breaks to separate the flashback from the rest of the text. But only the first flashback needs the additional signalling... Feel free to take/discard this advice, the story is wonderful in any case. You have a lovely, friendly writing style - and the way you conclude each chapter is absolutely delightful, you have a knack for bringing poignancy to a conclusion. : D Best of luck with everything, and I look forward to reading more of your writing...!
    Last edited: Jul 18, 2015
  13. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Thank you! The kids were definitely inspired in part by the games my brother and I played when we were kids, and it's cool to see you could relate to it too! Whenever I write little kids, I'm always afraid they'll be too something, like too mean or too whiny or too sassy (the last one is kind of a pet peeve of mind after having grown up on Disney Channel shows). It's a relief that I got the mixture at least close to right here.

    I'm glad you got that from it! I really wanted to show that mix of leaving an old life and its possibilities behind while also accepting that you can still find happiness without it. I'm sure the idea got a little muddled, but hopefully it's not too hidden.

    Yeah, I definitely need to fix that up a little. What I did with the other two was start them out in pluperfect to establish the time setting and then switch to past for a little more readability. I might try that with the first one. Honestly, I'm not sure why I didn't in the first place, since even I get a little confused reading it the way it is now, haha.

    I'm happy you liked them, and I'll definitely be taking your and Sike's advice about the flashback! Thanks for the review!
  14. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Wow, fewer than two months since the last one. That's a record! Hopefully the relative speed doesn't show too much in this one. I wouldn't go so far as to call it experimental, but it is a little different than what I'm used to writing. I like the idea, though, so let me know what I can do to improve the execution!



    This is as good as it gets,’ Elaine thought, closing her eyes and sipping from a cup of coffee. The scent of French vanilla filled her little office, located snugly in the back of Cerulean City’s Miracle Cycle. Her white-and-blue uniform was blessedly clean thanks to the stern warnings she had given to her children regarding the importance of her looking professional, and her morning shower had left her feeling as fresh as she would be able to for the rest of the day.

    The sun hadn’t even risen yet, so the only light in the room was the hazy turquoise glow from her computer screen, which she was using to play songs composed mostly with twinkling pianos and subtle strings. She leaned back in her chair, the blissful softness of which was worth the large chunk of cash she had used to buy it, and sighed contentedly.

    No screaming kids,’ she though, lifting her legs up underneath her. ‘No meals to cook.’ She took another sip. ‘Just me, my music, and my coffee.’ She glanced at the window, noticing the faintest sliver of orange beginning to emerge from the Dark Cave’s craggy horizon line in the distance. ‘I should get some curtains. Some nice blue ones.’ A fortress was only as good as its ability to keep the outside world from getting in, and she felt that curtains would be the perfect thing to keep her secluded, even if it was just for a few extra minutes.

    I’ll grab some next time I get groceries,’ she promised herself. She finished her coffee and stood. Chamila and Oliver would be here soon, so she couldn’t sit around much longer. Stretching slowly, she finally headed out of her office and into the main room, greeted by vivaciously painted bicycles when she flicked on the lights. Her day of fluorescents, bike bells, and customers had begun.


    Chamila lamented once again how cold the mornings always were. No matter what season, she found herself shivering during every one of her commutes to work.

    She passed the Pokémon Center, glancing in like always to see a sleepy nurse at the counter and several kids snoozing on the long couches. She could probably expect to see a few of them perusing bicycles after the sun had risen.

    She had long ago gotten over the caustic irony of the bike shop employee having to walk to work, but she couldn’t help feel for the kids who would be extremely well served by the bicycles they could never afford. She understood that a profit had to be made, but Elaine didn’t seem to have the best interests of her customers at heart. Maybe she’d care more if she were the one who had to confirm the ridiculous prices to the crestfallen kids.

    “It's fine,” she mumbled. A faint cloud of her breath appeared and her shoulders drooped. The streets and sidewalks were expectedly empty, and on the rare occasion that she spotted another human, her faint smile would be returned by either an uncomfortable glance away or a tired scowl. She would have wondered when cold and alone turn from a cliché description of despair into her morning routine, but she figured it was best not to examine things like that too closely.

    With a shiver, she sped her pace. She could see Miracle Cycle on the corner. Just a minute or two more and she would be comfortably inside.


    Oliver wondered how many dirty glances he would have to ignore before the Pokémon Center nurse finally told him he couldn’t stay there any longer. Technically free to all trainers – and he was quick to show anyone who doubted him his official trainers license – they operated under the assumption that trainers would be traveling to the next town within a few days. Oliver had passed that mark some time ago, but he couldn’t head down to Saffron without a Cascadebadge. Did the nurse think he was just hanging around town? He had just as much of a right to be here the kids sleeping on the couch.

    Still, he sped by her with his head down like always, hoping that he could pass himself off as a different trainer despite the oil stains on his blue-and-white uniform. He heard the familiar sigh from the nurse, noticing as he had every morning that she sounded slightly more annoyed by his presence than the previous day. He wouldn’t be there for much longer, though. There was no way.

    “****!” he cursed, wrapping his arms around his torso as he stepped outside. “Always ****ing freezing.” He used to wonder how a town mere miles form the ocean could be so cold in the morning, but he had weeks ago transcended examination, arriving at a plateau of unquestioning annoyance.

    As he walked, he mused on how warm Vermilion must be, picturing himself napping on the deck of the S.S. Anne. He would never be able to afford tickets, but he ignored that to keep the fantasy alive.

    He could see Miracle Cycle down the street, and his imagination desperately began searching for a last-minute escape.

    Cinnabar Island. Sunshine, a volcano, a plentiful array of fire types. Fuchsia City. Exotic, a beach, and a veritable jungle right there in the backyard. Hell, even Lavender would be a refreshing change of scenery. Anywhere but Cerulean. Anywhere but goddamn Miracle Cycle.


    “Here they come,” she mumbled, staring solemnly out a window. The same group of kids would walk their bikes into the shop just about every day, taking advantage of the free month of repairs with every purchase. The faces would change continuously as one child’s month ended while another’s was just beginning, but Elaine only saw a mass of unidentifiable freeloaders. “How do they manage to break something every single day?” she asked darkly.

    Chamila merely shrugged as she slipped on a pair of gloves. Oliver, slumped against the register, appeared to be lost in a magazine.

    The crowd of kids came flooding in the door, and the staff was met with various greetings. Most of them flocked toward Chamila, but Elaine still winced at the volume.

    “Quiet down,” she said. Unfortunately, her voice was lost in the noise, so she backed up against the wall, trying to put as much distance as possible in between her and the rowdy children.

    She leaned toward Oliver and muttered a general sardonic comment about the workday, but his only answer was a grunt a nod. Why did she work here, she wondered. The negligible profits? The eleven-hour workday? No, she reminded herself. Her real inspiration was the total lack of options for a middle-aged woman who had sunk her savings into taking over a failing bike shop in a small town. The thought kept her going, for better or worse.


    Chamila laughed as a little boy explained how he had broken off the seat of the dirty bike that had been gleaning new just a week ago. “That bridge is dangerous,” she admonished, grinning despite herself. “It’s way too narrow for races.”

    He blushed and wrung his hands. “I almost won, though!”

    Finishing the job, she rolled the bike into his hands and whispered, “South of town is way better. Trainers hardly ever hang out there, and there’re some pretty good ledges if you wanna get some air.” His eyes widened, and he hurriedly ran to tell his friends. Laughing, Chamila called for the next customer.

    It was relaxing work, as she found there was never a job too big or complicated to fix. A dangling chain, a loose bolt or two. It was all routine, and she was able to lose herself in the sound of the electric screwdriver or the soft whirring of the wheels as she tested them for kinks. Best of all, the kids were always willing to talk.

    “This’ll definitely get you all the way to Vermilion,” Chamila said, wrapping the handlebars of a dingy blue bike while the owner listened rapturously. “You might want to get yourself a new seat, though.” She pressed down on the current seat, demonstrating how the cushion had been beaten down from a few months of riding. “They’re not very expensive, and you should have more than enough money if you just beat Misty.”

    The ten-year-old girl nodded excitedly, taking her bike back. “Thanks, Chamila! Wish me luck!”

    Smiling brightly, Chamila said goodbye and took the next customer. ‘Another bent rim,’ she thought contentedly, grabbing her spoke key. “Again?” Just like always, the boy flew into an action-packed story of speedy heroes and sluggish villains, hitting all the same beats as his excuse for his broken handlebar and his cracked pedal. She didn’t mind, though. She began straightening the rim, settling into the ridiculous story like a book she had reread a hundred times with plans to read it a hundred times more.


    You beat Misty?” He held a page of Pokémon Pal mid-turn as a young girl sat a plastic-encased bike seat on the counter. “What’s your team? Like, a weepinbell? Oddish? Pikachu? Dammit, I knew I should have caught one back in V-”

    “Goldeen,” she said distractedly. She was digging through her red backpack for some money, and her bike was leaned against the wall.

    “Great,” he said, sinking into the metal chair. “A six-year-old beats Misty with a goldeen and I’m here with one stupid badge.”

    “I’m ten,” she said with annoyance as she laid a bill on the counter. “And I need this seat.”

    He quickly rang her up before standing and putting his hands over his head. It suddenly felt sweltering inside the little shop, and the noise was becoming too much. His hand instinctively fell to the two poké balls attached to his belt, but it did nothing to calm him down.

    “I’m a ****ing joke,” he murmured, making his way to the nearest window so he would have an excuse to stare away from the crowd. “How did I even beat Brock? Was it just a fluke?” His breathing was getting shallower, and looking outside only reminded him how small and cold and inescapable Cerulean was. “I should… I should just go home or something.”

    He vaguely heard Elaine tell him to help a customer, but it was too distant for him to process it clearly. She took him by the arm and looked in his eyes, but he couldn’t focus, so finally he wrenched free and stepped outside, grateful for the breeze.

    He fell back onto a bench, breathing heavily. He was basically an adult. Full-time job? Check. Permanent residence? Check, practically. Circumstances that prevented him from pursuing anything resembling a dream? Big-*** check on that one. He wanted to leave so bad, but Misty was too damn strong. Or he was too damn weak. Or he was just too damn stupid.

    His breathing slowed as he inhaled the fresh air and closed his eyes. He just needed a couple minutes and he would be back to his lazy but functional self. He noted bitterly that he had wasted yet another break on a panic attack. Just a typical workday.


    “Finally,” she groaned, dragging her feet as she turned off the lights and locked up the money. Chamila and Oliver were sweeping, but they quickly finished and headed out the door. Elaine followed and locked it behind her, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she heard the satisfying click. She then unlocked her own bicycle from the stand by the entrance and sailed off down the street.

    She used to love riding up on the cape, speeding all the way to the shore. Those days – and the feelings that came with them – were long gone. Her trimly muscular legs had gained unseemly varicose veins, so she rarely wore shorts anymore. Not that it would matter, since she only left the house for work. The rest of her time was spent at home with her three kids and the husband she had never dreamed she would get, mostly because he was too unremarkable to waste valuable dream real estate.

    So biking was now a means to an end, the end being either Miracle Cycle or her home. She used the ride to plan dinner or come up with anything interesting she could talk about that night. ‘Burgers,’ she thought absentmindedly, also reminding herself that an especially annoying child had just ended his month of free repairs. That would make good conversation. She could already see the barely concealed boredom on her family’s face. She could also physically feel the boredom on hers.

    Maybe someday the shop will really off,’ she thought. ‘I can hire employees and never go to work. I’ll spend all day riding my bike. Maybe tomorrow.’ A false hope, it still propelled her down the streets and to her home, filled with messes and children and a clock she would use to countdown the time until morning. Even if she wasn’t going to strike it rich, she figured a quiet morning in her office was as good of a consolation prize as she was likely to get.


    Chamila watched Elaine coast by on the street without so much as a passing goodbye. It wasn’t unusual, but she always wondered if her boss spaced out on her rides home or if she just willfully ignored her. It’s not like they were friends.

    The streetlights were beginning to turn on, causing the sparsely crowded sidewalks to thin even more. Her walk home was long enough that she was the only person in sight by the time she reached her apartment. After climbing a few flights, she entered the brown little studio, greeted by the usual, though probably not good, humming and clicking of the refrigerator.

    She had vowed to go out to the cape to catch a Pokémon – something to liven up the place a little – but she had yet to make a move. After all, would she always keep it in a poké ball? Would it like that? If not, who would take care of it when she wasn’t home? And could she even afford it? The biggest issue was time. She didn’t want to go early in the morning or late at night, and her weekends were the only chance she had to relax. She hoped something would work out, but she couldn’t see it happening.

    Instead, she fell into her old red chair as usual, turned on the TV, and dozed off until the chilly morning air invaded her unheated apartment.


    “Ember!” Oliver’s charmeleon obeyed dutifully, singeing the hairs on an unfortunate rattata. They were out west of Cerulean, training against the weak wild pokémon. It was what he looked forward to all day, a few hours after work when he could stretch his legs a little bit and bond with his pokémon.

    After a few more battles, he returned the pokémon to its ball and tossed out his nidorino, giving it a chance to take on a few pokémon.

    Misty had beaten him handily on four separate occasions, so he had promised himself he wouldn’t return until he was absolutely sure he could win. The last time he had set foot in the gym was five weeks earlier.

    He wasn’t scared, exactly. He was mostly just embarrassed. The first time had been reasonable, the second time had maybe been bad luck, but the third and fourth times were utterly humiliating. Even Misty couldn’t help but giggle. He cringed every time he thought about it, and at this point he could only associate that extra large pool with anxiety.

    For now, though, that was the last thing on his mind. Pidgey were easy targets, and he gladly stayed out battling them until the sky melted from a dark, post-sunset blue into near-black. Something about the countryside energized him in the way the city couldn’t, so he felt much more comfortable wading through the tall grass than selling bikes.

    Not only that, but Chamila and Elaine were acquaintances at best. Charmeleon and nidorino were his friends, his teammates, and four losses together only made them closer. He wasn’t even sure if pokémon were capable of laughing.

    He noticed how late it was getting and called his pokémon back. “Just a few more days,” he promised to no one in particular. “Misty’s not gonna know what hit her.” He had said similar things before and would say similar things after, but right now the only future he was concerned with was sneaking past the Pokémon Center nurse and getting to bed. If he stayed out too late, waking up for work in the morning would be hell.
  15. That was a really nice read! It's very different from Grey, but that doesn't take away from how good it is. I like the slice-of-life approach you did with this, and how you give the reader glimpses of these three characters' less-than-ideal lives. While I do think you could've done more with their personalities - Elaine's coldness and indifference doesn't really match Chamila's approachableness and Oliver's hard-headed determinism - I thought you did enough to make them engaging and memorable.

    At first, I thought you were referring to Cerulean's coldness a bit too much, but by the end, I thought it had a nice effect on the atmosphere of the story, especially in that last bit where Chamila's in her flat. I also like how Oliver's fragments make it out as a trap he just couldn't get out of, and his rambling about getting Misty "the next time" is really relateable.

    But what I really liked about Blue was the structure. I'm not sure if it was meant to be this way, but I like how there seems to be one positive fragment for each of them amidst two negatives, and how you position one of each in each trio, and that position is relative to how they're presented within the trio (in that, Elaine's positive fragment is the first of the first trio, Chamila's is the second of the second trio, and Oliver's is the third of the third trio). Even if you didn't mean it that way, it did have a positive effect on how I read the story. It solidified how their happiness couldn't be achieved with each other (no more than one positive occupies a trio) and it points out how its achieved through different means (Elaine by herself, Chamila's customers, and Oliver's Pokemon, respectively). And by pointing out those bits of happiness, it reflects on how lonely and static (and blue! haha) their lives really are.

    Sorry for that rambly paragraph, but yeah, I thought this was a great addition to Chromatic. Looking forward to Orange! :)
  16. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Sorry this took so long! I started school and a new job recently, so I've been pretty distracted.

    Thank you! Maybe I can try to revise this a little bit to flesh them out some more and possibly get a little more inter-character interaction.

    I was really trying to establish Cerulean as mostly unhappy place where the characters have to find little pockets of peace (Blue here refers to the peace, but I realized too late that it mostly just seems to reference sadness, which I explicitly said in the first post wouldn't happen, haha.). Still, maybe I should have cooled it (heh) on the coldness references a little.

    That's what I was going for! I'm glad you picked up on it! In addition, I wanted the workday presented here to theoretically be cyclical and repeating indefinitely (with a few minor details changed from day to day), so I thought actually dividing the one-shot into pieces gave it a somewhat visual relationship to the spokes of a spinning bicycle tire. Which is an incredibly lame metaphor, but points for effort I guess, haha. I'm glad this structured worked for you, though! I was worried each section would be too short.

    Thank you so much! I'm still kind of picking an idea, so it might be a little bit before I get Orange out, but I'll do my best!
  17. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    Oh Oliver. Oliver, Oliver, Oliver. If only you had something else on your team. Something that can properly shrug off the likes of water gun and confusion. (Especially the latter. Frell that starmie. XD)

    This was cute and gave me cause to give this little key-item dispensary a little more thought. Here, it actually feels more like a proper store. :)
  18. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    That was actually the team I had for Misty during my latest FireRed playthrough, so I relate a lot to Oliver's struggle. Like me, I'm sure he regretted not catching a pikachu back in Viridian Forest. Also like me, he apparently has no interest in training an oddish.

    Thank you! I've wanted to write something about the bike shop for a while, so I figured I should do while Chromatic passes through Cerulean. I'm glad you liked it!
  19. AmericanPi

    AmericanPi Write on

    Wow! "Blue" was a pretty darned good read. It was quite intelligent, thoughtful, and artsy. There I go again, using that word in a fanfic review. I don't know, this story really was quite like a work of art to me. You, the writer, used your techniques such as pacing and characterization to really paint an excellent picture.

    I personally thought the opening was a bit slow, but that actually did wonders for the story. Blue is a calm and contemplative color, so the slow opening really helped set the mood. After I got over its slowness, I found that the opening was excellent.

    I think your characters were the strongest part of your story. You used their internal monologues and actions to convey their personalities to the reader. Their struggles and challenges seemed real, and I really felt for them. In other words, your characters were very sympathetic. As Dramatic Melody mentioned, I also liked how each character took solace in a different aspect of his or her life.

    I have mixed feelings about slice-of-life works, but I think yours was very well-done. Your story really fleshed out and explored a little corner of the Pokemon World few of us give thought to. I also love how the plot revolves around the lives of your three very well-established characters. Even though it was just a typical day, I felt interested in these people and genuinely hoped that things for them would change for the better.

    Excellent. Simply excellent. I loved the way you broke the story into parts, and, as Dramatic Melody pointed out, it was really clever how each character has two dull, cool, and melancholy parts and one more hopeful and calm part. Using story events and imagery, you conveyed the mood and theme of your story very well - I as the reader felt a resigned, calm sadness as I read the story.

    If you're wondering about the kind of odd-ish structure of my review, my review follows the format of the Review Game. I think I'm going to start writing my reviews in Review Game format, because it gives me a structure. After completing the Review Game I personally think the review I turned out had a better structure than my previous reviews.

    Overall, that was a pretty great read. I'm definitely putting reviewing your other one-shots on my bucket list. :)

    - Pi
  20. [Imaginative]:[Clockwork]

    [Imaginative]:[Clockwork] X-treme trainer

    Thank you! I think this is the first time any of my fics have been described as art, so I'm kind of blushing right now, haha!

    I'm glad the slower pace ended up okay. I was trying to keep it pretty quiet just to match the color, like you said, so it's a relief that it worked out to be an enjoyable read!

    I'm always a little unsure about my characterization, and it's great to hear that the characters were pretty distinct and realistic. I'm also glad people are enjoying the structure of the story, since it's definitely the most noticeable thing about the story, at least visually.

    Thanks! I'm a total sucker for slife-of-life stuff, so I have to be careful to keep my writing from slipping into the mundane. With a calming color, though, I figured I could get away with something a little slower, and when I started thinking about the bike shop, I knew I wanted to write it like this. And I hope so too, although I'm not confident any of them will find change soon. Not until they stop being so passive, at least.

    It's a huge load off my back to know the structure of the story worked in its favor. Not that it's really out there, but it's for sure different from how I usually write, so I was a little unsure about how it would work out. I'm also glad you felt that way! Not that I want you to be sad, but I did want to inspire some melancholy feeling.

    It's fine! I actually liked it, and I can see why that would work really well for something like the review game. Thank you for the review, and sorry it took so long for me to reply! Real life has been getting in the way big time, but hopefully I'll soon be back to checking this place as frequently as I normally do.

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