Clockworkz
SURPRISE BUTTSECKS
This is my first attempt at making a memoir-like fanfic. I'm proud of it so far. It's based off one of my characters in the Fan Art section, the Umbreon Morph. No spellcheck; there's going to be errors; trust me =_=
Now, without further ado...
The pain... It hurts... My body feels like it's being torn apart... Am I dying? Nikolai... Where are you...
Where do I begin? I was born born in Moscow, Russia, to two Eevee parents. They were kept by a kind, wealthy household, the Oblonsky family. Actually, it was only the father and his son. I remember the kind eyes of old man Arkady looking down on me as I was just a pup. I loved that man. He would always hold me so tightly, and stroke my fur whenever he got a chance. I remember even more notably than the long, kind, wrinkled face of Arkady, was his son, Nikolai. He was short, thin and pale, with long features, and messy brown hair that drooped over his dusty eyes. He always had a big grin on his face, like he was excited about something. When I was only six months old, I remember overhearing Arkady talk to his son, who was about twelve at the time, if I recall correctly. He said to him, "You're old enough to have a Pokemon of your own, son. Out of all of ours, which one would you like?" I'm not sure if those were his exact words; my memories of my youth are still pretty hazy. I do, however, remember the answer distinctly. "I'd like Nebula, father." (Nebula was never my real name; I've forgotten it after all these years. I just refer to myself as that, because it's the only name I've ever had since my free life ended). Once I heard my name, I perked right up. I was so happy to realize that I'd have Nikolai as my trainer. I've always felt as though there was some kind of connection between a Pokemon and its trainer; a connection that one doesn't share with it's genetic parents. I never consorted with my parents, except in my first weeks and nursing. I've learned that a human and it's parents have a vastly different relationship than a Pokemon and it's parents. I suppose the missing factor is love. I never loved my parents; as a Pokemon, I've only instinctively relied on them. I guess this change was healthy for me. With Nikolai as my trainer, I felt a newfound love for humans. It was winter at the time, and winters in Russia were cold. Even with my warm fur, I still managed to get chills, and the occasional cold. During these times, Nikolai showed me an amazing amount of care and warmth, as I got through my sicknesses. It was then that he showed his true love and compassion, when he cradled me in his arms at night.
I think, out of respect, he never kept me in a Pokeball. I can remember, when the warmer, spring months came around, and my first Pokemon battles ensued, asking my opponent (who was a growlithe pup) what it was like inside a Pokeball. He told me that it was like being asleep; like being unconscious, but upon the opening of the ball, it was rather painful, with the initial shock of being brought out. This was before the battle commenced. From what I could understand from teh Growlithe's broken accent, his trainer was a good friend of Nikolai. His name was Stepan. He was apparently friends with Nikolai for quite some time.
The battle commenced after we had our own private conversation, and the boys had theirs. I remember my first battle pretty clearly, as a matter of fact. The first attack was by the Growlithe (whom I later learned was named Reiker), and its searing breath of flames. It burned, and singed my fur. I remember Nikolai calling out to me, and my response being kicking sand into my opponent's face. I followed up with a crushing headbutt, then a bite. Surprisingly, Reiker was taken down, and he collapsed from injuries and exhaustion. I couldn't help but feel bad for him, and I laid down next him, and licked his wounds. The boys laughed at my reaction, and Reiker seemed to understand. I guess this event showed me what life as a Pokemon meant.
The spring months brought forth the wafting scent of flowers into the large, open yard that I had to play in. Each time I'd go outside, I'd wander out towards the little creek by the house, and even though the water was still cold, I loved to prance around in the shallow ends and act like a lunatic, putting on a humerous show for Nikolai, who always laughed at my aquatic antics. I'd shake like a maniac, getting everything damp, and run up to NIkolai, nuzzling him, getting him wet unintentionally. Nikolai never lost his patience with me; even when I'd do something I wasn't supposed to do, he knew it was all instinctive, and raised neither his hand, nor his voice to me. I didn't learn through discipline; I learned through love and respect. He respected me, and what I did instinctively, and therefore, I gave him equal respect as a human.
I think one of the funniest moments I shared with him was when he tried to stow me away to school with him. I was kept in his school bag, with some nuts and berries in there to munch on. The bag was partially unzipped so I had some air. Once he arrived on the schoolyard, I popped my little, fuzzy head out of the bag to have a peak around, and all the kids gathered around to gawk at me, and Nikolai, for being brazen enough to bring a Pokemon to school. Apparently, it was against the facilities rules to allow pets, Pokemon or otherwise. I guess it was the only "illegal" thing I ever did, and that's not saying much. After the loud, buzzing bell rang for the classes to start, I was told to go back into hiding, and I slept in his bag for quite some time. After several hours, I awoke, to hear a strange woman speaking of "x" and "y" equations graphs. I would have stayed in there, seeing as how boring it was in that classrom (I can't really blame the kids for dislikeing school; I found it utterly unappealing), however, my damned nose got the best of me. I smelled the distinct scent of cooked meat and some kind of sauce; the fat kid in the row behind Nikolai's was eating a sandwich that the teacher didn't know about. Of course, I started salivating at the scent, and dashed out of the sack. Some of the girls screamed at first sight, but calmed down, but those screams lead to pandemonium, and the whole class was riled up as I sat on the fat kid's desk, staring up at his plump face, as he took bites out of his sandwich. He stopped and looked at me, looked at Nikolai, then finally the teacher. I turned around, too, and saw the irate woman, and tried to look as cute as possible. Some of the females cooed, but the tall, stern looking woman was not at all impressed. I stayed in his bag, listening in on the woman's preaching to Nikolai. She really chewed him out good. I felt bad for causeing this to happen to him, and I shut my eyes. When he took me home, I could tell he was upset, but as usual, he just sat with me on his bed, and explained to my why it was wrong to do what I did in that school, but afterwards, he hugged me and forgave me. I'll never forget it.
More chapters coming soon.
Now, without further ado...
-Nebula's Story-
One
One
The pain... It hurts... My body feels like it's being torn apart... Am I dying? Nikolai... Where are you...
Where do I begin? I was born born in Moscow, Russia, to two Eevee parents. They were kept by a kind, wealthy household, the Oblonsky family. Actually, it was only the father and his son. I remember the kind eyes of old man Arkady looking down on me as I was just a pup. I loved that man. He would always hold me so tightly, and stroke my fur whenever he got a chance. I remember even more notably than the long, kind, wrinkled face of Arkady, was his son, Nikolai. He was short, thin and pale, with long features, and messy brown hair that drooped over his dusty eyes. He always had a big grin on his face, like he was excited about something. When I was only six months old, I remember overhearing Arkady talk to his son, who was about twelve at the time, if I recall correctly. He said to him, "You're old enough to have a Pokemon of your own, son. Out of all of ours, which one would you like?" I'm not sure if those were his exact words; my memories of my youth are still pretty hazy. I do, however, remember the answer distinctly. "I'd like Nebula, father." (Nebula was never my real name; I've forgotten it after all these years. I just refer to myself as that, because it's the only name I've ever had since my free life ended). Once I heard my name, I perked right up. I was so happy to realize that I'd have Nikolai as my trainer. I've always felt as though there was some kind of connection between a Pokemon and its trainer; a connection that one doesn't share with it's genetic parents. I never consorted with my parents, except in my first weeks and nursing. I've learned that a human and it's parents have a vastly different relationship than a Pokemon and it's parents. I suppose the missing factor is love. I never loved my parents; as a Pokemon, I've only instinctively relied on them. I guess this change was healthy for me. With Nikolai as my trainer, I felt a newfound love for humans. It was winter at the time, and winters in Russia were cold. Even with my warm fur, I still managed to get chills, and the occasional cold. During these times, Nikolai showed me an amazing amount of care and warmth, as I got through my sicknesses. It was then that he showed his true love and compassion, when he cradled me in his arms at night.
I think, out of respect, he never kept me in a Pokeball. I can remember, when the warmer, spring months came around, and my first Pokemon battles ensued, asking my opponent (who was a growlithe pup) what it was like inside a Pokeball. He told me that it was like being asleep; like being unconscious, but upon the opening of the ball, it was rather painful, with the initial shock of being brought out. This was before the battle commenced. From what I could understand from teh Growlithe's broken accent, his trainer was a good friend of Nikolai. His name was Stepan. He was apparently friends with Nikolai for quite some time.
The battle commenced after we had our own private conversation, and the boys had theirs. I remember my first battle pretty clearly, as a matter of fact. The first attack was by the Growlithe (whom I later learned was named Reiker), and its searing breath of flames. It burned, and singed my fur. I remember Nikolai calling out to me, and my response being kicking sand into my opponent's face. I followed up with a crushing headbutt, then a bite. Surprisingly, Reiker was taken down, and he collapsed from injuries and exhaustion. I couldn't help but feel bad for him, and I laid down next him, and licked his wounds. The boys laughed at my reaction, and Reiker seemed to understand. I guess this event showed me what life as a Pokemon meant.
Two
The spring months brought forth the wafting scent of flowers into the large, open yard that I had to play in. Each time I'd go outside, I'd wander out towards the little creek by the house, and even though the water was still cold, I loved to prance around in the shallow ends and act like a lunatic, putting on a humerous show for Nikolai, who always laughed at my aquatic antics. I'd shake like a maniac, getting everything damp, and run up to NIkolai, nuzzling him, getting him wet unintentionally. Nikolai never lost his patience with me; even when I'd do something I wasn't supposed to do, he knew it was all instinctive, and raised neither his hand, nor his voice to me. I didn't learn through discipline; I learned through love and respect. He respected me, and what I did instinctively, and therefore, I gave him equal respect as a human.
I think one of the funniest moments I shared with him was when he tried to stow me away to school with him. I was kept in his school bag, with some nuts and berries in there to munch on. The bag was partially unzipped so I had some air. Once he arrived on the schoolyard, I popped my little, fuzzy head out of the bag to have a peak around, and all the kids gathered around to gawk at me, and Nikolai, for being brazen enough to bring a Pokemon to school. Apparently, it was against the facilities rules to allow pets, Pokemon or otherwise. I guess it was the only "illegal" thing I ever did, and that's not saying much. After the loud, buzzing bell rang for the classes to start, I was told to go back into hiding, and I slept in his bag for quite some time. After several hours, I awoke, to hear a strange woman speaking of "x" and "y" equations graphs. I would have stayed in there, seeing as how boring it was in that classrom (I can't really blame the kids for dislikeing school; I found it utterly unappealing), however, my damned nose got the best of me. I smelled the distinct scent of cooked meat and some kind of sauce; the fat kid in the row behind Nikolai's was eating a sandwich that the teacher didn't know about. Of course, I started salivating at the scent, and dashed out of the sack. Some of the girls screamed at first sight, but calmed down, but those screams lead to pandemonium, and the whole class was riled up as I sat on the fat kid's desk, staring up at his plump face, as he took bites out of his sandwich. He stopped and looked at me, looked at Nikolai, then finally the teacher. I turned around, too, and saw the irate woman, and tried to look as cute as possible. Some of the females cooed, but the tall, stern looking woman was not at all impressed. I stayed in his bag, listening in on the woman's preaching to Nikolai. She really chewed him out good. I felt bad for causeing this to happen to him, and I shut my eyes. When he took me home, I could tell he was upset, but as usual, he just sat with me on his bed, and explained to my why it was wrong to do what I did in that school, but afterwards, he hugged me and forgave me. I'll never forget it.
More chapters coming soon.
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