Arcanine Royale
Well-Known Member
Now and Forever, Volume One: The Adventure
A/N: Now and Forever is my main fanfic. I have written it for a couple of years, and its always getting better. However, it cannot do that to its full potential unless you, the reader, review. NF, at least Volume 1, should stay PG and below. Its an OT and anime-based.
Also, assume that May returned to the gang after Shinou and Max traveled Hoenn after May and Max went through Johto. Thank you.
+=in progress
nothing = not started
bold = gym battle
(Yes, I put the different parts to save space.)
The large aircraft carrier churned through the waters, sending foamy white sheets of the sea into the air. Small, nimble aircraft zipped across the skies, practicing maneuvers such as barrel rolls, cork screws, and dives.
Soldiers stood, all identical in jet black armor, in a large room. They stood motionless, all the same height. A few had large stripes of gold, red, blue, and green running down there sides. They raised their long, black rifles in unison.
“This is the beginning of a revolution,” said the leader, a soldier whose armor was all blue. “You clones have been made to serve a purpose, and that is to destroy Scarlet Alliance and the Twilight Coalition! Your purpose is to conquer the great land of Hakkou in all its vastness! Our dominion will stretch from the Plains of Argoth to the Redwood Forests, from Wildcat Falls near Hillsburg to the Botantine Desert! We shall rule Hakkou, and then, the whole world! Slowly, our army is amassing. This is Nebula’s rebirth, and Nebula’s time to shine!”
All of the multitude of clones applauded. Nebula’s human agents, who stood behind the legions of clones, dressed in jeans and scarlet tank-tops applauded as well.
“Fellow agents and clones, may He be praised. May the High Lord, the leader of our nation, the person in whom we put our allegiances in, may He be worshipped as He is worthy of!”
Meanwhile, a small room was filled with six of the richest parents in the state. The Reo Grande Community Center was empty, except for that room. The first two were both short and red-haired. Their nametag read “Timothy and Rebecca”. The second couple was of average size, and their appearance made one think of the German. Their accent supported this hypothesis. The final couple was much tall, and they smiled as the man in front of them – dressed in a black suite with a small golden pin of two angel wings upon the arm – handed them adoption papers.
“Now, fill out the form as I have instructed. Remember, we of Team Angel can not help you with parenting, but if anything involving psychic powers were ever to arise, we request that you notify us immediately. As these three young boys were rescued from project work in an evil organization, that organization could want them back. Finally, give them love, for love will cherish even those born in an evil regime. For evil corruption arises even in those of the age of three.”
“Soon, my dear, we will have him,” said the man of the couple. He pressed her body against his. “Soon, oh Cynthia, we shall have a son. And we will call him Connor.”
A fiery colt strode through the pastures. His glossy red coat shone back the rays of the sun. As he rushed towards a man dressed in black leather, the wind whipped through his black mane and tail. He had out-ran all the other Charolts and Ponytas.
This colt was called Blaine. Some kid that had saw him on the day he was born, only four months ago. He must have liked the Cinnabar Island gym leader from Kanto. What did Kyle O’Brien care, though? Connor, his son, could rename him anyway.
Sporting a black leather jacket, Kyle coaxed the colt towards him. He quickly, yet gently, grabbed a pokeball with two blue stripes on a field of red. “Return, Charolt,” he whispered. The colt was gently sucked into the aura of red light that the ball had emitted. Kyle was flooded with memories: of his journeys, of his pokemon, of his first and only love, and of his boy as a young son, now at the age of thirteen. He hoped his son would have the same memories he did.
Placid pools of water stood calm in the gardens that sat in front of the house as Kyle O'Brien rode up in his Buick. The lush greens hedges, bushes, and vines intermingled with the indigo, cobalt, crimson, and gold-colored flowers and left the lush green grass surrounding it seem naked. A large tree sat in the middle of it all, its leaves colored a fiery crimson-pink. Some of the fallen leaves were lifted up into the air as Kyle drove past. The garden seemed to swing out as Kyle drove closer to the house, revealing a carefully laid foundation. On top of that were more and more layers of red and brown colored brick. The wall stood high, stretching to the two edges, and then they wrapped around and went on. On the top of the brick wall was a tiled brass roof. The house could be seen as far back as the eye could go. Kyle new this to be his home, his manor, his land. Kyle O’Brien’s shiny black Buick, with elegantly curving roof and classy front hood, slowed to a stop. Kyle stepped out. This was his, all his. And he loved it.
Walking into the house, Kyle exclaimed, “Honey, I’m home!” He handed his leather jacket to the butler and gently laid down the precious pokeball on an oaken table.
“Good afternoon, Master O’Brien,” the butler said cordially. “Did you enjoy your stay at Appleton Acres?”
“Yes,” Kyle O’Brien replied. “Where would Connor be?”
“Out in the back garden with your wife, Master O'Brien,” the butler replied, “reviewing the Pokemon Journey Academics Test.”
“Good,” Kyle said, making sure the pokeball was in hand.
Running out of the entry way, he rushed through the house. He ran down a hall towards a large sliding door. He passed two doors, one on each side. These two doors were entry to Connor’s room. To the left was a large entertainment room. To the back of that was a large flat-screened television. Blue leather couches faced the television in a u-shape.
To the right was a large basketball court, as Connor was one of the best basketball players at his school, Rio Grande Heights Academy. Both rooms had stairs leading up to his bedroom and computer room, as well as an old toy room.
The next two rooms were Kyle, and his wife, Cindy’s, rooms. Once again, to the left was an entertainment room. To the right, however, was a large room with separate habitats for each of the couple’s pokemon. In the middle of this room was a large battle-court. Both Kyle and Cindy were gym-leaders. Kyle was the leader of Rio Grande Valley gym, while Cindy resided over Rio Grande Ridge gym. Currently, Cindy was the official gym leader, but that could change any year. All Kyle, or any of the other ten gym-leaders in Rio Grande City, had to do was beat Cindy and then qualify as one of the twenty-one official gym-leaders in the region of Hokkou.
For pokemon masters in training, all twenty one official gym badges had to be obtained to qualify for the National Cup Tournament. All twenty states also held tournaments, in which a trainer needed to obtain a predetermined number of badges from gyms within that state to qualify for that tournament. The Elite Trainers Organization, a group of gym-leaders and pokemon trainers that were elected and given power to govern the National Cup and State Cup tournaments, had also recently added a Region Cup format. In this format, trainers had to obtain all official gym badges in that region, as well as two additional badge from each state.
Kyle wished his son to challenge both the regional format and national format. He wished for him to be as prestigious and talented as he was himself.
Kyle reached the door and threw it open. Rows and rows of gardens spanned towards the horizon. Green could be seem almost everywhere, except for where an occasional Japanese rock garden or pond or statue gently sat. The gardens were every design and came from every place on the world, at least all that could survive in the coastal climate of Rio Grande. Some came from South America, others European. Most were of plants, trees, and flowers, but some where rock gardens or statue patios.
Beyond the rows and rows of gardens, which were clearly divided with hedges, lay a large lawn. Trimmed daily, the lawn was always beautiful, even when the rarest of snowfalls came to the region. Looking around, Kyle walked through a vine garden, around a Kantanese rock garden, past an Arizonan desert garden, and through an area with monolithic sculptures of colorful candy.
He walked into a small, cozy garden, hemmed in by bright red brick fences. A patio was in the center, while rows of lilacs, roses, and tulips adorned the sides.
“Good afternoon, father,” Connor said coldly. He stood up to greet him. He was always like that, so cold and masked. Or thats what Kyle saw anyway. He wished his son would act more mature, more noble, like Kyle himself was.
“Good afternoon, Connor,” Kyle replied cordially to his son.
All his life, Kyle had been of the high class. He had been taught to speak, stand, sit, dance, train, catch, run, jump, hide, play, kiss, sleep, and treat others of both higher and lesser value, maturity, ability, intelligence, and class as a noble would. Just like its northerly neighbor Japan, Hokkou didn’t have nobles. The only place those could be found was in England. However, if Hokkou did have those of nobility, Kyle would have been one of the best.
“Now, about that test…”
“You have done very well, my son,” Kyle said approvingly. “Your journey begins tomorrow. You are well prepared, I presume?”
“Yes, father,” Connor replied.
“Grand. Your mother and I had planned to give it to you at morning brunch on the morrow. Since you have excelled, however, I shall give it to you now.”
“Great,” Connor said less coldly, “what is it.”
“Well, following the O’Brien family tradition…”
“No,” Connor whispered sadly, with a hope still lingering in his mind that it would not be what he thought it to be.
“Connor, please do not interrupt your father,” Cindy said.
“Thank you, Cindy,” Kyle said, glaring at his son. “Returning to what I was saying, following O’Brien family tradition, I have obtained for you a well-bred Charolt from Appleton Acres.
“No,” Connor whispered, “No, No, NO!” Connor slammed back his chair and stomped away into the house.
If anyone in Rio Grande Valley was angrier that Connor O’Brien, it would have had to have been Ash Ketchum. He glared at Max, who was relaxing on the other side of the restaurant they were in, called Slammer’s Steakhouse. Max. Ash loathed him. Their battle had been terrible.
"Return, Vigoroth," said Max patiently. His very first pokemon returned to his pokeball.
Ash Ketchum looked down at the ground. His last pokemon stood valiantly on the battlefield, his red claws pumping up and down in anticipation.
It hadn't been going well.
"Sceptile, finish this up!" Max said, calling out his fourth pokemon. A large, erect green lizard appeared.
"Crawdaunt, Bubblebeam!" said Ash quickly. His Crawdaunt didn't stand a chance. Still, he had to fight, to the last bit of energy left. His red lobster released a host of bubbles which zipped towards the lime-green lizard.
"Sceptile, Leaf Blade!" said Max smugly. Max's lime-green reptile charged forward, his two hands held over his head. They glowed white with pulsing grass energy.
"Crawdaunt, Iron Defense!" shouted Ash. His red lobster focused and summoned a wall of steel. The lizard sliced his two glowing white arms across the wall of steel, hardly scraping it.
"Great job, Crawdaunt," said Ash excitedly. Maybe he had a chance. "Crawdaunt, Headbutt!" Ash commanded enthusiastically.
"Ash, my friend, you have made your last mistake!" said Max. "Sceptile, Double Team while charging Solar Beam!" His reptile charged at the Crawdaunt, and began running around it. Soon, there were twenty Sceptiles in front of the lobster.
"Argh!" exclaimed Ash angrily. "Crawdaunt, Iron Defense once again!" His lobster covered itself in a steel coat of armor. "That should hold it!" Ash said with anticipation.
"Sceptile, fire the beam!" commanded Max. His reptile stopped his multiple copies and raised his arms to his chest. He released a beam of golden-orange energy.
"Hold on, Crawdaunt," Ash said hopefully. But the lobster couldn't.
The beam of golden-orange sun energy penetrated the steel armor, and exploded. The lobster was hurled across the field, and landed upside down, moaning in pain.
"Max Petalburg of Petalburg City defeats Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town!" said Brock.
Ash sighed. How had he done so poor?
Ash walked outside, his head down. The weight of his Pikachu felt like a ball of lead. Even his electric mouse wasn't chattering away as he normally did. No, it was a bad day for Ash Ketchum and his pokemon. All because of that stupid battle with May's bratty brother, Max.
“Ash,” May said from across the street, she stood near the café. Her orange tank-top and short black skirt stood out from the masses of people that rushed through the streets on the evening commute back home. They walked into the park and found an alcove hidden by lush jade hedges and sat down on a secluded bench. May took out her Pokemon Navigator. She began to press numbers on the little key pad.
“Who you calling?” Ash asked.
“My parents,” May replied. The PokeNav rang a dull tone.
“You better not,” Ash replied. He snatched PokeNav and turned it off.
“Ash, come on.” She looked down at her golden ring that was on her middle finger and delicately slid it off. “We got to tell them sooner or later. It’s been since Shinou that you asked me.”
“Yeah, I’ll take later,” Ash replied.
“Come on,” May prodded, laying her hand next to Ash’s. “They got to know.”
“Not right now,” replied Ash angrily. “I’m really upset about the battle I had with your bratty brother. And I still haven’t forgotten what you and Drew did at the Grand Festival in Charleston.”
“Ash, he’s not a brat. Anyway, I though we understood this. I was trying to get to back from Misty.”
“And I was trying to get you back from, who was it again? Oh yeah, that bratty "friend" of Max, Harley.” The word rolled off Ash’s mouth as if he were cussing.
“Which,” May added, “was a sick trick by my brother.”
“Yes,” Ash confirmed, “your bratty brother.”
“Ash,” May said angrily, “for the last time, he is not a brat. He’s just a little annoying sometimes.”
“Whatever,” Ash added. He put his arm around her body.
May stood up. “Ash, my brother is your friend. He just won the Indigo League a month or so ago, so he's still a little headstrong.”
Ash stood up to. “Listen May,” he murmured, “you're right. Max is pretty cool, actually. I mean, he's won the Hoenn and Indigo Leagues. I haven't even won one yet.”
“Don't get down, Ash. You're better than him, and I know it. Remember, the Battle Frontier counts as something, and didn't you win the Orange Island Championship before you came to Hoenn?"
"Oh yeah," said Ash happily, "I forgot about those."
"By the way, thank you,” May added. Suddenly, they were kissing.
“Hey guys,” said Brock as he walked into the alcove. “I’ve been looking for you for forever. Oh, May, there’s a former World Festival champion coming to the center at eight tonight. And Ash, they’re gonna’ have a pokemon festival here next week, too.” He looked up at them. “Oh, I see you’re busy.”
“Yes,” Ash replied, “center at ten tonight, right? See you there.” They were kissing again.
Hours later, Connor walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a donut and a can of Mountain Dew and walked down the hall and into his room. He plopped down on the couch, eagerly flipping channels to his favorite station - Pokemon Trainer Sagas.
The next day was just like any other, at least for everyone except Connor O’Brien. He paced nervously in his room. He had been so stupid yesterday afternoon. He wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t. A pokemon he hated was better than no pokemon. Finally, he heard footsteps.
He jumped out of his room. “Listen,” he said, “I’m really sorry about the way I was yesterday. I mean, I hear most of the kids in Africa don’t have pokemon at all. And that one guy, Ash Ketchum, he was stuck with a pathetic Pikachu. And I was reading about this one guy too, he…”
“Good morning, young Master O’Brien.” It was only Charles, the butler. “Err – perhaps it’s not such a good morning for you. Your parents wish to see you in the dining hall immediately. They have to discuss certain matters of your – err – what you will do on your journey.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Connor replied. “And by the way, Pikachus are not all that bad.”
“Yes, well, um – have a wonderful journey, young Connor.”
Connor ran off to the dining hall.
“Poor kid,” Charles muttered.
~Now and Forever~
Volume One, The Adventure
[BANNER]http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i278/Scepfrost/nowforever.png[/BANNER]
On frequency: During the school days, about till early June of 2007, I will try to post one chapter or chapter part once a week. This may slow down to a every other week pace, as I wish to write other pokemon stories and am currently trying my hand at Star Wars fan fiction. However, I will still try to post this chapter/chapter part every Friday, mid afternoon, Eastern Time. Volume One, The Adventure
[BANNER]http://i74.photobucket.com/albums/i278/Scepfrost/nowforever.png[/BANNER]
A/N: Now and Forever is my main fanfic. I have written it for a couple of years, and its always getting better. However, it cannot do that to its full potential unless you, the reader, review. NF, at least Volume 1, should stay PG and below. Its an OT and anime-based.
Also, assume that May returned to the gang after Shinou and Max traveled Hoenn after May and Max went through Johto. Thank you.
Chapter Index
++=finished, not posted+=in progress
nothing = not started
bold = gym battle
(Yes, I put the different parts to save space.)
Part One: Let the Journey Begin! (Ch. 1-29)
0. Prologue (This post)
1. Curse of the Colt (This post)
2. Gone
3. A Chance
4. Behind those Starry Eyes
5. The Mocking Bird, 1 and 2
6. From Master to Beginner, 1 and 2 and 3
7. From Within
8. Greenback, 1 and 2
9. Friends and Fights, 1 and 2 and 3 and 4
10. A Call to Arms
11. Cyclone, 1 and 2 and 3
12. Chaos Ensuing, 1 and 2+
13. Gypsy’s Folly, 1 and 2
14. A Catching We Will Go!
15. Sweet Scent and Aromatherapy
16. Kick Grass, Part One and Part Two
17. Taking a Toll
0. Prologue (This post)
1. Curse of the Colt (This post)
2. Gone
3. A Chance
4. Behind those Starry Eyes
5. The Mocking Bird, 1 and 2
6. From Master to Beginner, 1 and 2 and 3
7. From Within
8. Greenback, 1 and 2
9. Friends and Fights, 1 and 2 and 3 and 4
10. A Call to Arms
11. Cyclone, 1 and 2 and 3
12. Chaos Ensuing, 1 and 2+
13. Gypsy’s Folly, 1 and 2
14. A Catching We Will Go!
15. Sweet Scent and Aromatherapy
16. Kick Grass, Part One and Part Two
17. Taking a Toll
Prologue
The large aircraft carrier churned through the waters, sending foamy white sheets of the sea into the air. Small, nimble aircraft zipped across the skies, practicing maneuvers such as barrel rolls, cork screws, and dives.
Soldiers stood, all identical in jet black armor, in a large room. They stood motionless, all the same height. A few had large stripes of gold, red, blue, and green running down there sides. They raised their long, black rifles in unison.
“This is the beginning of a revolution,” said the leader, a soldier whose armor was all blue. “You clones have been made to serve a purpose, and that is to destroy Scarlet Alliance and the Twilight Coalition! Your purpose is to conquer the great land of Hakkou in all its vastness! Our dominion will stretch from the Plains of Argoth to the Redwood Forests, from Wildcat Falls near Hillsburg to the Botantine Desert! We shall rule Hakkou, and then, the whole world! Slowly, our army is amassing. This is Nebula’s rebirth, and Nebula’s time to shine!”
All of the multitude of clones applauded. Nebula’s human agents, who stood behind the legions of clones, dressed in jeans and scarlet tank-tops applauded as well.
“Fellow agents and clones, may He be praised. May the High Lord, the leader of our nation, the person in whom we put our allegiances in, may He be worshipped as He is worthy of!”
~ ~ ~
Meanwhile, a small room was filled with six of the richest parents in the state. The Reo Grande Community Center was empty, except for that room. The first two were both short and red-haired. Their nametag read “Timothy and Rebecca”. The second couple was of average size, and their appearance made one think of the German. Their accent supported this hypothesis. The final couple was much tall, and they smiled as the man in front of them – dressed in a black suite with a small golden pin of two angel wings upon the arm – handed them adoption papers.
“Now, fill out the form as I have instructed. Remember, we of Team Angel can not help you with parenting, but if anything involving psychic powers were ever to arise, we request that you notify us immediately. As these three young boys were rescued from project work in an evil organization, that organization could want them back. Finally, give them love, for love will cherish even those born in an evil regime. For evil corruption arises even in those of the age of three.”
“Soon, my dear, we will have him,” said the man of the couple. He pressed her body against his. “Soon, oh Cynthia, we shall have a son. And we will call him Connor.”
-Chapter One: Curse of the Colt-
A fiery colt strode through the pastures. His glossy red coat shone back the rays of the sun. As he rushed towards a man dressed in black leather, the wind whipped through his black mane and tail. He had out-ran all the other Charolts and Ponytas.
This colt was called Blaine. Some kid that had saw him on the day he was born, only four months ago. He must have liked the Cinnabar Island gym leader from Kanto. What did Kyle O’Brien care, though? Connor, his son, could rename him anyway.
Sporting a black leather jacket, Kyle coaxed the colt towards him. He quickly, yet gently, grabbed a pokeball with two blue stripes on a field of red. “Return, Charolt,” he whispered. The colt was gently sucked into the aura of red light that the ball had emitted. Kyle was flooded with memories: of his journeys, of his pokemon, of his first and only love, and of his boy as a young son, now at the age of thirteen. He hoped his son would have the same memories he did.
Placid pools of water stood calm in the gardens that sat in front of the house as Kyle O'Brien rode up in his Buick. The lush greens hedges, bushes, and vines intermingled with the indigo, cobalt, crimson, and gold-colored flowers and left the lush green grass surrounding it seem naked. A large tree sat in the middle of it all, its leaves colored a fiery crimson-pink. Some of the fallen leaves were lifted up into the air as Kyle drove past. The garden seemed to swing out as Kyle drove closer to the house, revealing a carefully laid foundation. On top of that were more and more layers of red and brown colored brick. The wall stood high, stretching to the two edges, and then they wrapped around and went on. On the top of the brick wall was a tiled brass roof. The house could be seen as far back as the eye could go. Kyle new this to be his home, his manor, his land. Kyle O’Brien’s shiny black Buick, with elegantly curving roof and classy front hood, slowed to a stop. Kyle stepped out. This was his, all his. And he loved it.
Walking into the house, Kyle exclaimed, “Honey, I’m home!” He handed his leather jacket to the butler and gently laid down the precious pokeball on an oaken table.
“Good afternoon, Master O’Brien,” the butler said cordially. “Did you enjoy your stay at Appleton Acres?”
“Yes,” Kyle O’Brien replied. “Where would Connor be?”
“Out in the back garden with your wife, Master O'Brien,” the butler replied, “reviewing the Pokemon Journey Academics Test.”
“Good,” Kyle said, making sure the pokeball was in hand.
Running out of the entry way, he rushed through the house. He ran down a hall towards a large sliding door. He passed two doors, one on each side. These two doors were entry to Connor’s room. To the left was a large entertainment room. To the back of that was a large flat-screened television. Blue leather couches faced the television in a u-shape.
To the right was a large basketball court, as Connor was one of the best basketball players at his school, Rio Grande Heights Academy. Both rooms had stairs leading up to his bedroom and computer room, as well as an old toy room.
The next two rooms were Kyle, and his wife, Cindy’s, rooms. Once again, to the left was an entertainment room. To the right, however, was a large room with separate habitats for each of the couple’s pokemon. In the middle of this room was a large battle-court. Both Kyle and Cindy were gym-leaders. Kyle was the leader of Rio Grande Valley gym, while Cindy resided over Rio Grande Ridge gym. Currently, Cindy was the official gym leader, but that could change any year. All Kyle, or any of the other ten gym-leaders in Rio Grande City, had to do was beat Cindy and then qualify as one of the twenty-one official gym-leaders in the region of Hokkou.
For pokemon masters in training, all twenty one official gym badges had to be obtained to qualify for the National Cup Tournament. All twenty states also held tournaments, in which a trainer needed to obtain a predetermined number of badges from gyms within that state to qualify for that tournament. The Elite Trainers Organization, a group of gym-leaders and pokemon trainers that were elected and given power to govern the National Cup and State Cup tournaments, had also recently added a Region Cup format. In this format, trainers had to obtain all official gym badges in that region, as well as two additional badge from each state.
Kyle wished his son to challenge both the regional format and national format. He wished for him to be as prestigious and talented as he was himself.
Kyle reached the door and threw it open. Rows and rows of gardens spanned towards the horizon. Green could be seem almost everywhere, except for where an occasional Japanese rock garden or pond or statue gently sat. The gardens were every design and came from every place on the world, at least all that could survive in the coastal climate of Rio Grande. Some came from South America, others European. Most were of plants, trees, and flowers, but some where rock gardens or statue patios.
Beyond the rows and rows of gardens, which were clearly divided with hedges, lay a large lawn. Trimmed daily, the lawn was always beautiful, even when the rarest of snowfalls came to the region. Looking around, Kyle walked through a vine garden, around a Kantanese rock garden, past an Arizonan desert garden, and through an area with monolithic sculptures of colorful candy.
He walked into a small, cozy garden, hemmed in by bright red brick fences. A patio was in the center, while rows of lilacs, roses, and tulips adorned the sides.
“Good afternoon, father,” Connor said coldly. He stood up to greet him. He was always like that, so cold and masked. Or thats what Kyle saw anyway. He wished his son would act more mature, more noble, like Kyle himself was.
“Good afternoon, Connor,” Kyle replied cordially to his son.
All his life, Kyle had been of the high class. He had been taught to speak, stand, sit, dance, train, catch, run, jump, hide, play, kiss, sleep, and treat others of both higher and lesser value, maturity, ability, intelligence, and class as a noble would. Just like its northerly neighbor Japan, Hokkou didn’t have nobles. The only place those could be found was in England. However, if Hokkou did have those of nobility, Kyle would have been one of the best.
“Now, about that test…”
~ ~ ~
“You have done very well, my son,” Kyle said approvingly. “Your journey begins tomorrow. You are well prepared, I presume?”
“Yes, father,” Connor replied.
“Grand. Your mother and I had planned to give it to you at morning brunch on the morrow. Since you have excelled, however, I shall give it to you now.”
“Great,” Connor said less coldly, “what is it.”
“Well, following the O’Brien family tradition…”
“No,” Connor whispered sadly, with a hope still lingering in his mind that it would not be what he thought it to be.
“Connor, please do not interrupt your father,” Cindy said.
“Thank you, Cindy,” Kyle said, glaring at his son. “Returning to what I was saying, following O’Brien family tradition, I have obtained for you a well-bred Charolt from Appleton Acres.
“No,” Connor whispered, “No, No, NO!” Connor slammed back his chair and stomped away into the house.
~ ~ ~
If anyone in Rio Grande Valley was angrier that Connor O’Brien, it would have had to have been Ash Ketchum. He glared at Max, who was relaxing on the other side of the restaurant they were in, called Slammer’s Steakhouse. Max. Ash loathed him. Their battle had been terrible.
~ ~ ~
"Return, Vigoroth," said Max patiently. His very first pokemon returned to his pokeball.
Ash Ketchum looked down at the ground. His last pokemon stood valiantly on the battlefield, his red claws pumping up and down in anticipation.
It hadn't been going well.
"Sceptile, finish this up!" Max said, calling out his fourth pokemon. A large, erect green lizard appeared.
"Crawdaunt, Bubblebeam!" said Ash quickly. His Crawdaunt didn't stand a chance. Still, he had to fight, to the last bit of energy left. His red lobster released a host of bubbles which zipped towards the lime-green lizard.
"Sceptile, Leaf Blade!" said Max smugly. Max's lime-green reptile charged forward, his two hands held over his head. They glowed white with pulsing grass energy.
"Crawdaunt, Iron Defense!" shouted Ash. His red lobster focused and summoned a wall of steel. The lizard sliced his two glowing white arms across the wall of steel, hardly scraping it.
"Great job, Crawdaunt," said Ash excitedly. Maybe he had a chance. "Crawdaunt, Headbutt!" Ash commanded enthusiastically.
"Ash, my friend, you have made your last mistake!" said Max. "Sceptile, Double Team while charging Solar Beam!" His reptile charged at the Crawdaunt, and began running around it. Soon, there were twenty Sceptiles in front of the lobster.
"Argh!" exclaimed Ash angrily. "Crawdaunt, Iron Defense once again!" His lobster covered itself in a steel coat of armor. "That should hold it!" Ash said with anticipation.
"Sceptile, fire the beam!" commanded Max. His reptile stopped his multiple copies and raised his arms to his chest. He released a beam of golden-orange energy.
"Hold on, Crawdaunt," Ash said hopefully. But the lobster couldn't.
The beam of golden-orange sun energy penetrated the steel armor, and exploded. The lobster was hurled across the field, and landed upside down, moaning in pain.
"Max Petalburg of Petalburg City defeats Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town!" said Brock.
Ash sighed. How had he done so poor?
~ ~ ~
Ash walked outside, his head down. The weight of his Pikachu felt like a ball of lead. Even his electric mouse wasn't chattering away as he normally did. No, it was a bad day for Ash Ketchum and his pokemon. All because of that stupid battle with May's bratty brother, Max.
“Ash,” May said from across the street, she stood near the café. Her orange tank-top and short black skirt stood out from the masses of people that rushed through the streets on the evening commute back home. They walked into the park and found an alcove hidden by lush jade hedges and sat down on a secluded bench. May took out her Pokemon Navigator. She began to press numbers on the little key pad.
“Who you calling?” Ash asked.
“My parents,” May replied. The PokeNav rang a dull tone.
“You better not,” Ash replied. He snatched PokeNav and turned it off.
“Ash, come on.” She looked down at her golden ring that was on her middle finger and delicately slid it off. “We got to tell them sooner or later. It’s been since Shinou that you asked me.”
“Yeah, I’ll take later,” Ash replied.
“Come on,” May prodded, laying her hand next to Ash’s. “They got to know.”
“Not right now,” replied Ash angrily. “I’m really upset about the battle I had with your bratty brother. And I still haven’t forgotten what you and Drew did at the Grand Festival in Charleston.”
“Ash, he’s not a brat. Anyway, I though we understood this. I was trying to get to back from Misty.”
“And I was trying to get you back from, who was it again? Oh yeah, that bratty "friend" of Max, Harley.” The word rolled off Ash’s mouth as if he were cussing.
“Which,” May added, “was a sick trick by my brother.”
“Yes,” Ash confirmed, “your bratty brother.”
“Ash,” May said angrily, “for the last time, he is not a brat. He’s just a little annoying sometimes.”
“Whatever,” Ash added. He put his arm around her body.
May stood up. “Ash, my brother is your friend. He just won the Indigo League a month or so ago, so he's still a little headstrong.”
Ash stood up to. “Listen May,” he murmured, “you're right. Max is pretty cool, actually. I mean, he's won the Hoenn and Indigo Leagues. I haven't even won one yet.”
“Don't get down, Ash. You're better than him, and I know it. Remember, the Battle Frontier counts as something, and didn't you win the Orange Island Championship before you came to Hoenn?"
"Oh yeah," said Ash happily, "I forgot about those."
"By the way, thank you,” May added. Suddenly, they were kissing.
“Hey guys,” said Brock as he walked into the alcove. “I’ve been looking for you for forever. Oh, May, there’s a former World Festival champion coming to the center at eight tonight. And Ash, they’re gonna’ have a pokemon festival here next week, too.” He looked up at them. “Oh, I see you’re busy.”
“Yes,” Ash replied, “center at ten tonight, right? See you there.” They were kissing again.
~ ~ ~
Hours later, Connor walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a donut and a can of Mountain Dew and walked down the hall and into his room. He plopped down on the couch, eagerly flipping channels to his favorite station - Pokemon Trainer Sagas.
The next day was just like any other, at least for everyone except Connor O’Brien. He paced nervously in his room. He had been so stupid yesterday afternoon. He wished he could take it back, but he couldn’t. A pokemon he hated was better than no pokemon. Finally, he heard footsteps.
He jumped out of his room. “Listen,” he said, “I’m really sorry about the way I was yesterday. I mean, I hear most of the kids in Africa don’t have pokemon at all. And that one guy, Ash Ketchum, he was stuck with a pathetic Pikachu. And I was reading about this one guy too, he…”
“Good morning, young Master O’Brien.” It was only Charles, the butler. “Err – perhaps it’s not such a good morning for you. Your parents wish to see you in the dining hall immediately. They have to discuss certain matters of your – err – what you will do on your journey.”
“Thank you, Charles,” Connor replied. “And by the way, Pikachus are not all that bad.”
“Yes, well, um – have a wonderful journey, young Connor.”
Connor ran off to the dining hall.
“Poor kid,” Charles muttered.
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