Typhlogirl
keep battling on!
Hey everyone.
Participating in the battle contest gave me the urge to once again commit myself to a proper chaptered fic, and the idea for this one has been sitting in my mind for a while. I have a great deal of time on my hands before I start University, and I want to invest it in something that I find benefical. The fic preview that you are about to read is somewhat of a sequel to my other fic, The Pokemon Rebellion, but it is by no means essential to have read it to understand this one. I doubt this one will be as long as the other though. When the first few chapters are fully completed, I will make a proper thread in the FF section for the actual fic. For now, I'd thought I'd let you guys have a taste of what's to come.
The fic will have three central characters, hence the title. The prologue features one of them. I hope you enjoy it.
The medical tent was bitterly cold and painfully silent. Made of sterile grey tarpaulin with a blood red cross tattooing the centre of the roof, it sat in the outskirts of the blast zone, away from the danger, but also away from the grievously injured. Not that it really mattered; anyone caught in the blast from the exploding building would not need to visit a doctor or a nurse. A mortician would be more appropriate.
The terrorist threat had kept the city of Goldenrod in the Johto region on edge for many days; but no one had really expected the Radio Tower to explode. No one thought that the renegade pokemon that had overtaken it would even think of detonating the dynamite they had stolen. Perhaps that was the greatest mistake made by the special force designed to control the situation; foolish assumptions and a good deal of underestimating.
Inside the tent, rows of impossibly clean operating tables sat in a row along the back, but only one of them, the one furthest into the corner, was occupied.
Battles had been fought, with casualties taken on both sides. Numerous attempts were made to try and get the Radio Tower back. All of them failed. The levels of injury among the warring forces varied. One pokemon, however, the property of a high ranking Elite Four member specially commissioned to assist the police force, would never recover from his.
He lay slouched out on the hard surface of the table, not really sleeping, but not fully awake either. Bandages swathed his head, mostly around the area that his eyes used to inhabit. The Aerodactyl had taken a horrible attack during the biggest battle with the strange, terrifying pokemon that had stormed the Radio Tower and threatened the inhabitants of the city. He could barely remember what happened. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.
I can’t hear anything…I am alone in my agony.
He felt useless, pathetic, but above all, alone. Alone in darkness. The fact that never again would he see sights that he always took for granted had yet to penetrate the thick preliminary layer of gloom that had settled around his mind, but it wouldn’t be too long. When all you think are negative thoughts, it doesn’t take long for them to warp and mutate into damning, soul-shattering facts.
The nurse had been so kind; she had tried so hard to help him. The Aerodactyl felt like she was the only one who cared even a little bit about him. But even her benevolent words and gestures couldn’t help. His trainer, the human who was supposed to care the most about him, was yet to even visit the tent he was confined in.
That stung.
But worse of all, it was like a sign that his life was practically over. At least, his life as an Elite pokemon fighting Elite battles. A blind pokemon would be useless; even in a regular, low level battle, he just wouldn’t be able to cope. The calibre of the battles he was used to (born for) would not accept a disabled pokemon. One that wasn’t suicidal, anyway. No wonder his trainer didn’t come. He didn’t want him anymore. The Aerodactyl could understand why.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
The blind pokemon was contemplating actually going to sleep (and hopefully not waking up), when he felt a presence enter the tent. It wasn’t the nurse; she always made an excessive amount of noise when she entered and exited, but this being hadn’t made a sound. What was stranger was the fact that the Aerodactyl could actually identify that something was there. He’d never been able to do that before.
Fear gripped him. Whoever (whatever) this strange being was, they weren’t natural. Something about them was wrong, and made his skin prickle with goose bumps. What was worse was the fact that he was too weak and injured (apathetic) to fight. He was defenceless and at this unnatural intruders mercy.
“Who…who’s there?” he croaked, his voice dry and raspy from lack of use. ‘Identify yourself!’
He felt the creature coming closer. Then he felt a smile. It was so strange; like the fact that the being was smiling was emanating through the air, to be picked up by sensors in his mind. He was terribly confused.
“Do not be afraid, young one. I am not here to hurt you.” The voice was gentle, with a slightly surreal tinge to it. The Aerodactyl forced himself to sit up and raise his head.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
“My name is Nuumanjya. What’s yours?” the creature asked.
“My name? I…I don’t really have one. I’m just Aerodactyl. What…what exactly are you? I can’t….I’m blind.”
“Do not fear; I am a Chansey. A healer.”
“Oh. I didn’t know the nurse had any Chansey’s with her. Maybe you guys are just really…quiet.”
Nuumanjya chuckled. “Oh, I’m not with the Nurse.”
The Aerodactyl didn’t really know what to say. He felt Nuumanjya moving closer.
“You have received a horrible injury, one that will cause the rest of your life to be emersed in the darkest of darkness. I am here to shine a light in that darkness.”
“What are you say-”
“You have lost your eyes, child, but now I will give you mine.”
The Aerodactyl felt two paws press against his temples.
The last thing he heard was his own terrified screaming.
-;157;
Participating in the battle contest gave me the urge to once again commit myself to a proper chaptered fic, and the idea for this one has been sitting in my mind for a while. I have a great deal of time on my hands before I start University, and I want to invest it in something that I find benefical. The fic preview that you are about to read is somewhat of a sequel to my other fic, The Pokemon Rebellion, but it is by no means essential to have read it to understand this one. I doubt this one will be as long as the other though. When the first few chapters are fully completed, I will make a proper thread in the FF section for the actual fic. For now, I'd thought I'd let you guys have a taste of what's to come.
The fic will have three central characters, hence the title. The prologue features one of them. I hope you enjoy it.
THREE PIECES OF DEBRIS
Prologue
Prologue
The medical tent was bitterly cold and painfully silent. Made of sterile grey tarpaulin with a blood red cross tattooing the centre of the roof, it sat in the outskirts of the blast zone, away from the danger, but also away from the grievously injured. Not that it really mattered; anyone caught in the blast from the exploding building would not need to visit a doctor or a nurse. A mortician would be more appropriate.
The terrorist threat had kept the city of Goldenrod in the Johto region on edge for many days; but no one had really expected the Radio Tower to explode. No one thought that the renegade pokemon that had overtaken it would even think of detonating the dynamite they had stolen. Perhaps that was the greatest mistake made by the special force designed to control the situation; foolish assumptions and a good deal of underestimating.
Inside the tent, rows of impossibly clean operating tables sat in a row along the back, but only one of them, the one furthest into the corner, was occupied.
Battles had been fought, with casualties taken on both sides. Numerous attempts were made to try and get the Radio Tower back. All of them failed. The levels of injury among the warring forces varied. One pokemon, however, the property of a high ranking Elite Four member specially commissioned to assist the police force, would never recover from his.
He lay slouched out on the hard surface of the table, not really sleeping, but not fully awake either. Bandages swathed his head, mostly around the area that his eyes used to inhabit. The Aerodactyl had taken a horrible attack during the biggest battle with the strange, terrifying pokemon that had stormed the Radio Tower and threatened the inhabitants of the city. He could barely remember what happened. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.
I can’t hear anything…I am alone in my agony.
He felt useless, pathetic, but above all, alone. Alone in darkness. The fact that never again would he see sights that he always took for granted had yet to penetrate the thick preliminary layer of gloom that had settled around his mind, but it wouldn’t be too long. When all you think are negative thoughts, it doesn’t take long for them to warp and mutate into damning, soul-shattering facts.
The nurse had been so kind; she had tried so hard to help him. The Aerodactyl felt like she was the only one who cared even a little bit about him. But even her benevolent words and gestures couldn’t help. His trainer, the human who was supposed to care the most about him, was yet to even visit the tent he was confined in.
That stung.
But worse of all, it was like a sign that his life was practically over. At least, his life as an Elite pokemon fighting Elite battles. A blind pokemon would be useless; even in a regular, low level battle, he just wouldn’t be able to cope. The calibre of the battles he was used to (born for) would not accept a disabled pokemon. One that wasn’t suicidal, anyway. No wonder his trainer didn’t come. He didn’t want him anymore. The Aerodactyl could understand why.
But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
The blind pokemon was contemplating actually going to sleep (and hopefully not waking up), when he felt a presence enter the tent. It wasn’t the nurse; she always made an excessive amount of noise when she entered and exited, but this being hadn’t made a sound. What was stranger was the fact that the Aerodactyl could actually identify that something was there. He’d never been able to do that before.
Fear gripped him. Whoever (whatever) this strange being was, they weren’t natural. Something about them was wrong, and made his skin prickle with goose bumps. What was worse was the fact that he was too weak and injured (apathetic) to fight. He was defenceless and at this unnatural intruders mercy.
“Who…who’s there?” he croaked, his voice dry and raspy from lack of use. ‘Identify yourself!’
He felt the creature coming closer. Then he felt a smile. It was so strange; like the fact that the being was smiling was emanating through the air, to be picked up by sensors in his mind. He was terribly confused.
“Do not be afraid, young one. I am not here to hurt you.” The voice was gentle, with a slightly surreal tinge to it. The Aerodactyl forced himself to sit up and raise his head.
“Who are you?” he repeated.
“My name is Nuumanjya. What’s yours?” the creature asked.
“My name? I…I don’t really have one. I’m just Aerodactyl. What…what exactly are you? I can’t….I’m blind.”
“Do not fear; I am a Chansey. A healer.”
“Oh. I didn’t know the nurse had any Chansey’s with her. Maybe you guys are just really…quiet.”
Nuumanjya chuckled. “Oh, I’m not with the Nurse.”
The Aerodactyl didn’t really know what to say. He felt Nuumanjya moving closer.
“You have received a horrible injury, one that will cause the rest of your life to be emersed in the darkest of darkness. I am here to shine a light in that darkness.”
“What are you say-”
“You have lost your eyes, child, but now I will give you mine.”
The Aerodactyl felt two paws press against his temples.
The last thing he heard was his own terrified screaming.
-;157;
