PS Art/Writing Contest: First Battle

khRAIN

khRAIN

My writing submission! I went through multiple edits after finally thinking of a semi-decent plotline ;-;

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Jed stared at the Gastly.


It stared back with a mocking expression.


The prolonged silence between Pokemon and trainer only served to intensify the serious atmosphere around them. Jed absentmindedly brushed back his unruly hair with one hand, keeping his gaze on his new partner. His other hand kept a firm grip on his Pokemon Handbook and ignored how the aging pages crinkled in protest. It was enclosed in a thin leather case; the slightly opened pages revealed the scribbled notes and doodles of a daydreaming schoolboy. On the back of the cover was a short line written in scrawling cursive.


Just until you learn how to stand up by yourself. - Father


The Gastly bobbed in the air in front of him, sneering and occasionally blending into the nearby shade before popping out without warning. Its disdain for gravity was shown in the lazy movements that arced through the air. The purple haze surrounding its dark center made any other Pokemon instantly wary. Needless to say, friends and play-mates were a scarce luxury commodity. The Gastly seemed unperturbed by the look that its young trainer was sending its way and the quiet grassy area around them was deceivingly tranquil. But Jed knew better. They were in deep shit.


“Look Sol,” he started, clearing his throat. “Time to go home. It’s getting late.” And true to his word, the sky was beginning to adopt an orange-tinge and the trees casted lean shadows that seemed to be growing and twisting all around them.


Sol looked at him blankly.


“You know how Route 2 is like when it’s dark.” Jed checked quickly around them, wondering if anyone was near. “All these weird people like to hang out here.”


The Gas Pokemon was already refocusing its attention on the wispy outlines of a large Taillow flock passing overhead . Sighing, Jed stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. He shielded his eyes from the harsh glare of the sunset to look down the narrow path that led back home. “Let’s just try not to make eye-contact with anyone, okay?” He closed his eyes as echoes of jeers and taunts flew across his mind. Jed curled his fingers around the handbook and tightened his grip. “I’m not ready to battle.”


After minutes of pushing his way through tall-grass while Sol floated slightly above his head, Jed could make out the faint twinkling lights of the town. “We’re almost there,” he huffed. “If I just walk a little faster-“


Already balanced precariously on top of a rock, his foot slid on the dusty ground and he stumbled forward, tumbling into the undergrowth of the hill. Jed finally landed heavily on some bushes, upsetting a group of Rattatas that scurried away, clicking their teeth reproachfully. He pulled himself into an upright position with some effort and winced at the small cuts on his legs. Jed felt the temperature drop a few degrees and glanced behind him. He was greeted by the sight of Sol cackling and spinning like a top below the treetops. Resisting the urge to throw a rock at the Gastly (it would just pass right through it anyways), Jed ventured forward without looking ahead. He soon found himself smashing head-first into a rotund surface. After picking himself off the ground for a second-time, he looked up to meet beady black eyes dwarfed by bushy eyebrows. The chubby belly seemed to mimic a certain Christmas icon. Jed swore underneath his breath.


“Hey!” The hiker’s voice boomed. “I saw you look at me, brat!”


“N-no,” Jed stammered. He vaguely wondered whether that large branch was close enough to reach. Maybe not, he thought as he eyed the hiker’s balding head. Knocking him out would be like trying to break a sack of wet cement. Jed pulled his handbook closer to him as if to ward off the trainer.


“I’m only 9,” he tried to make his voice sound as small as possible. “I haven’t learned how to battle yet. And it’s, uh, past my bedtime.”


“Nonsense!” The man scoffed. With a sweep of his hand, a Sandslash leaped into the clearing in a flash of light as its empty pokeball rolled to a stop next to it. The Sand Pokemon stood up on its hind-legs and ruffled the spiked plates on its back with a shake.“It’s only 7 o’clock!”


Sol, interested by this turn of events, popped out behind Jed’s head to get a closer look. The Gas Pokemon was rewarded by a strike of sharp claws, which passed through it but only narrowly missed Jed. However, his handbook was less fortunate and fluttered to the ground in shreds. With a horrified cry, he dropped to his knees and tried to piece it together again to no avail.


The hiker only smiled and wiped his bulbous nose with a triumphant grin. “That book ain’t gonna help you kid!”


Jed felt a cold sheen of sweat settle on his neck. He racked his brains for ideas, attacks, strategies, anything, but only found a sense of jumpy anticipation. Stopping his attempts to recall his studies, he straightened up and focused on the scene in front of him. Although the Sandslash’s swipes missed or passed through Sol everytime, he had a feeling that the Gastly would start to feel the effects if other attacks were to be used. Jed tried to steady his uneven breathing. Sol stared at him condescendingly but seemed to understand.


“Hypnosis,” he murmured. To his relief, Sol complied and sent a short pink wave spiraling towards the Sandslash. It easily dodged the attack and side-stepped to retaliate. The Sand Pokemon leapt into the air, kicked up a cloud of dust and pounced on the purple gas ball. Jed held his breath.


Hearing a shout from its master, the Sandslash raised gleaming claws, only to lower them again in confusion when its target disappeared. Sol appeared again above its head, flickering in and out of sight. With a roar of frustration, the Sandslash gave pursuit. It was beginning to look like some sort of strange dance, Jed thought with some amusement. To a bystander, it looked as if the Sand Pokemon was trying to stomp on its own shadow. He quickly became worried again as he observed the deep gash marks that marred a tree trunk as a result of a missed attack. The tree creaked ominously and the bark that surrounded the scarring gash continued to splinter and snap. Their opponent showed no sign of exhausting. Although Sol was fast, he would tire soon and…


Jed frowned and then shivered. What happens after you lose a battle?


“Lick.” Sol spun around in mid-flight to face the Sandslash and opened its mouth to reveal sharp canines and a long pink tongue. The Sand Pokemon immediately dug its hind-claws into the ground to try to backpedal, but it was already too late. Sandslash met the full brunt of the sticky attack and stayed oddly motionless afterwards, as if it had turned into a stone statue. It occasionally twitched but was unable to lift a claw. The hiker shook his head but kept the confident smile on his face.


“So they taught you status problems in school, eh kid? Hate to tell you, but your poke still isn’t strong enough to make a dent in Sand-“


“I know,” Jed gave a small smile. The Hiker’s expression of confusion quickly morphed into one of disgust as Sol appeared only a couple of inches from his face. Weren’t these things poisonous? The man tried to take a step back but was unable to look away from the terrible white eyes. Shivering from the sudden cold, he blinked as a soft pink light invaded his vision. His eyelids were getting heavier, heavier, heavier…


Jed let out a shaky breath and put his hand on his knees. Although he hadn’t moved much through the duration of the battle, he felt oddly tired. But there was something beneath the fatigue. Jed raised his fingers to his mouth to find that they were slightly upturned at the corners. Ah. That was it. He grinned broadly at Sol, who returned it with a classic leer.


“Let’s go before the Hypnosis wears off.” Half running, half skipping towards the town (the Sandslash could snap out of its paralysis any minute), Jed indulged in his newfound exhilaration. As he surveyed the evening sky, he blinked against the distant sight of blinding stadium lights, felt the promise of a crowd’s anxious excitement, and drew comfort from a certain faithful shadow. He paused thoughtfully for a moment and half-way turned around before smiling again and continuing home.


The tattered handbook continued to lay where it had fallen.



Nooo plot-bunny, come back! And for some reason, I never liked the Hiker NPCs in the games. I tried to make a book-wormish main character and hopefully that worked out okay. It was a little harder to paint his insecurities than I thought. Thanks to the few people that reviewed this before I worked up the nerve to present it. And of course, thanks for reading! ^.^
 
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Gale Wing Srock

Gale Wing Srock

Disclaimer:
My First writting attempt ;)​


Main Title: A Flight of Friendship
Post I Title: The first breeze of spring

Everyday for the past five years, Burd has been waiting for this moment in his life. Waiting and longing, for when the long and cold winter would finally end and give way to a new spring. That spring has finally come, full of fresh air, new hopes and rejuvenating dreams.

Burd opens the windows to let in the first spring breeze, his sister Glacy hugs his leg from behind, looks up to him and says "Brother, I am so proud of you." Burd kneels down and kisses his sister on her forehead and says "You, take care of yourself now... be good to mom. Don't give her any trouble, okay? And make sure you stay clean everyday." while gently stroking over his sister's wild unkempt hair.

"I know all of that! But promise me, You will choose Hoppip. Right? Please choose Hoppip. Please! Please!" says Glacy as she hops holding her brothers hand.

Burd gets up on his feet, straightens his posture, looks out the window towards the bright and shining morning sun and says "Some things are destined Glacy. You will understand when you get there. Now, I better get going. Its already eight and you don't want your brother to be late, do you?"

"No way! Go get 'em brother. I know you are the best." says Glacy standing firm, with her hands stretched back and pride in her eyes.

Burd rubs her hair, “Al-right then!” he says and carries his back pack towards the door, stops right before the doorway and looks back at his room, for one final time.

The room was full of posters, action figures and models of his favourite pokemon that he had collected ever since he was five; and he was leaving it all behind now, to start his own journey.

-------------------

Burd bids goodbye to his mother and sister, ready to take a flight of an adventure filled journey. Professor Hawks had asked all the new trainers of Soareather Town to reach his Laboratory across the river, before half past eight in the morning. Burd was already on his way towards the bridge riding his skateboard. He could see Pidgeys, Taillows, Butterfrees and Mothims flying over the river and around the trees near the river bank; chirping and buzzing as they enjoyed the beautiful spring morning.

As Burd reaches the bridge, he finds a trainer in a bicycle riding ahead towards the Professors Lab. She has a stylish Nutmeg hair, and an Azure Blue scarf tied around her neck, which were both swaying in the gust. She chose to ignore the wind and rode against it, only stopping when she had reached the Lab. But, as Burd was about to reach the lab, another trainer swishes past him in a bicycle, that almost makes him lose his balance. He gets off his skateboard and shouts at the trainer

"Hey! do you have something called eyes?"

"Ice? they would be in your mother's fridge. Dumb ass!" says McKro as he parks his bike right next to the girl and smirks at her.

Burd looks at McKro with rage, but then he observes the girl who was looking at them dubiously and decides to settle it later.

"Kids, are you here?” asks Professor Hawks as he comes out of his laboratory. "Hi Emma, McKro and Burd. Please come in." says the Professor as he goes back inside. Burd and McKro share a heated gaze as they push and shove each other while entering the lab.

-------------------

As the boys struggle against each other, the professor asks Emma "So. That is the pokemon you are going to choose?"

"Yes, Professor Hawks. I have always wanted an Emolga." says Emma Wattson.

"Ah! Like father, like daughter! Interesting." says Professor Hawks.

"Professor! why does she get to pick first?" says McKro.

"Haven't you heard the phrase, 'Ladies First' ?" says Burd.

“Haven't you heard the word, Patronizing?” counters McKro.

Professor Hawks ignores the boys, as he hands the poke ball of Emolga to Emma and asks her "Have you thought of a name for her, Emma?"

"I think I will name her 'Volta'." says Emma with Pride.

"Humph! What kind of a stupid name is that? Anyways, I don't care about your worthless Emolga. Show me the Soareather Starters!" says McKro as all three of them look at him in contempt.

"Okay! Ahem, choose your starters. But, remember. If both of you choose the same pokemon, then the pokemon gets to choose its trainer. Okay?" says Professor Hawks.

"Yeah! Yeah! I choose you, Fletchling!" says McKro grinning at Burd.

"And you Burd?" says Professor Hawk.

Burd thinks for a while, he knows who he wants to pick.​

But what if Fletchling ends up rejecting him?
What will he do then?
Should he pick Hoppip?
or should he choose Wingull, that clearly has the advantage early on.
Listen to his heart?
His sister's wish?
Or make the most efficient choice?
​
 
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TheMeh

TheMeh

Well, here's my story. Hope you all like it!

A New Day

A story by The Meh.

I was nervous. I had just left New Bark Town with my first pokemon, a Chikorita. She had a gleeful look on her face, like she was ready to face the world. I felt just as giddy, walking through the route. I could see trainers far ahead, waiting for their challengers. I ran through the grass, attempting to get through to the next town, to the trainers, but instead, my plans were put aside. I had met my first pokemon, and have found my first battle.

A Pidgey ambushed me from the grass, attempting to knock me over. Of course, I can't say I was surprised. Pidgey are very common across this area. I moved to the side, sending my Chikorita ahead, ready to battle, her exited look still showing on her face.

My plan was clear: I wanted to lower it's health to a solid point so it would be easier to catch.

"Chikorita, use Tackle!"

The move had hit successfully, seeming to damage the Pidgey quite well.

The Pidgey retaliated, using Peck on my Chikorita. Luckily, it missed Chikorita by an inch.

My time was now. Either I attack or I throw my Pokeball.

"Chikorita, use Razor Leaf!"

Chikorita sent leaves towards the Pidgey, all meeting their targets.

It seemed like the Pidgey was to the brink of fainting.

"Pokeball, go!"

I had to pray this would work. So many things could go wrong. I put so much effort into this battle, and this pokemon. I will not fail catching it.

...

...

...

*Ding!*

I... did it. I caught the Pidgey!

...

That was a month back. As I look to my Pidgeot in front of the entrance to the Elite Four, I see a face of a million expressions.

"Are you ready, Pidgeot? If you don't feel like you're ready yet, you can sit out."

Pidgeot then changed expressions. He showed glee, and he looked ready.

I look into his face and see the same smile Chikorita had shown on her face the day we left for our journey.

I nod back. "Alright. Let's do it."

Pidgey smiles, and flies to my elbow, sitting on it, as I walk through the doorway.​
 
Gale Wing Srock

Gale Wing Srock

Main Title: A Flight of Friendship
Post II Title: The hidden power of Pure Love

He looks around the laboratory and finds that Emma is playing around with her Volta (Emolga), who is gliding around her, cooing happily as it looks around Professor Hawk's laboratory. Burd vividly remembers what his father had said five years ago, “Me and my Jumpluff are friends for life.” he decided that he wants to be happy with his friend, no matter what; and anything else should not matter to him. He did not know if it was the most intelligent thing to do; but he knew that, it was the right choice.

“So, Burd?” says Professor Hawks.

Burd looks at him, and says with passionate vigour “I chose Fletchling!” which surprises everyone in the room. Especially Emma, who looks at Burd in a whole new light. She comes closer to him and says, “Are you sure?” Burd smiles at her and says “Me and Fletchling, are going to rock the world.”

Unable to bear the drama, McKro lunges at Burd, “How dare you chose Fletchling? I know everything about flying type pokemon and there is no way, that Fletchling will choose you. You will only make a fool out of yourself.”

Emma pushes McKro away from Burd and says, “We will see who is going to be the fool.”

“Hey! Just because you have an Emolga, don't be trotting around like you are some princess from Gaga land. No one can come between me and my Fletchlinga!!!” says McKro as he brushes his hair above his ears and tries to push Emma back; but Burd intervenes, forcing McKro back and standing between him and Emma with an outstretched palm, glaring at McKro.

“Okay, That is enough! You two! Come here!” shouts Professor Hawks, “If you two don't behave, neither of you will receive a pokemon today.” he adds and looks at both of the young boys. “Now, each of you will go to one end of the room and I will let Fletchling choose its trainer okay?” he says. And as the boys nod and go to either side of his laboratory, Professor Hawks releases the pokemon.

Fletchling comes out of its poke ball in a flash of light. That lavender blue body, that crimson red head and pitch black eyes, as Burd remembers so perfectly; is now flying around the room, in flesh and blood, right before his eyes. It takes Burd's complete attention and chirps loudly in happiness before landing effortlessly at the centre of the laboratory.

Professor Hawks tells Fletchling that it has to choose its trainer now and Fletchling looks at both Burd and McKro intently. It bends it's head towards the left and then towards the right, so as to identify the better trainer between the two.

“I know where this is going; but as my father always says, 'it is better to be prepared for the unexpected', You never know when small things may come in handy.” says McKro as he cunningly pulls up a worm from his back pack and shows it to Fletchling. “Here! Here! Fletchling. Come and get it. This tasty treat is just for you.”

“Offering food is not fair!” says Emma.

“Yeah? And who are you? My Mother?” says McKro “As far as I know, Professor Hawks didn't say anything about not offering food. Besides, who cares if its fair or not.” He then taunts Burd “Or are we a baby now? Wimpy!”

Burd was shocked and stumped at McKro's idea. He did not bring anything with him, except his sister's prayers and mother's good luck. He was trying to ignore McKro's taunting and was intently trying to distract Fletchling from the worm by calling out to it. He jumped, he clapped, he whistled, he chirped; but nothing seemed to distract Fletchling from the worm and it was now clear what it wanted to do.

Fletchling hopped over playfully to McKro's end of the lab and looked at the worm in his hand. It nibbled and pecked at the worm and finally grabbed it from McKro's hand and swallowed it.

McKro was very excited and was jumping with joy, “Yes! and I have got a Fletchling! Fletchlinga!”

-----------------

But as McKro was having his victory dance, Fletchling lifted its head, gulping the last remains of the worm, and slowly looked at Burd who still did not lose hope and was earnestly chirping and whistling to it. Fletchling kept looking at him for a while and then it tilted it's head to the side and gave a beaming smile. It then flew over to Burd and started pecking softly at his outstretched hand and rubbed its beak against Burd's open palm.

“What?!” says McKro as he was flabbergasted. “Give it up Loser. It came to me first. So it belongs to me.”

“Now, Now. Don't fight. I think Fletchling has chosen it's trainer and was only playing around with you because of it's Impish nature, McKro. Which, can be a little annoying sometimes.” says Professor Hawks as he holds back McKro.

“But that is not fair. It came to me first.” cries out McKro.

“Now, who is the baby?” teases Emma.

“You! You Losers! I will not be dissuaded by your foolish behaviour, that completely lacks logic and sense, in all manner.” says McKro and mumbles while walking around, “An ace trainer like me, always has an Ace up his sleeve.” he then stands still pointing at a poke ball and says with finality. “I choose you! Wingull!”
​
 
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Th!nkPi

My days house chaos and give it room to fester.
I will be judging submissions soon! Please don't pester.
Here is my reminder for all written submissions.
If you're using someone's art, make sure you have permission!
They must be 3,000 words or less, from beginning to end.
That rule is set in stone and is not one I'm willing to bend.
No more than three entries, but most important of all
make sure it's your work, or I'm cutting off your Poké Balls.
​
Note: the deadline hasn't changed. I will simply get a head start on the completed submissions in order to reduce the amount of wait time between the deadline and the end of the contest.
 
Gale Wing Srock

Gale Wing Srock

Main Title: A Flight of Friendship
Post III Title: The true meaning of friendship


Expecting the worse, McKro had brought another item; eager, to tilt the odds in his favour. He gave his Wingull a Silk Scarf and named him “Gullper”. Whereas, Burd named his Fletchling after his own name, “D' Burd!” and they both began to mock each other's ability.

“Now boys. Let us settle this outside.” says Professor Hawks as he drags McKro and Burd out onto his back yard. “Okay. This will be a one on one pokemon battle and the battle will end when either of the trainer's pokemon is unable to battle.”

“Duh! Captain Obvious!” mocks McKro as he sends out his Gullper; Who glides, low down the ground, and makes a quick u-turn to land on McKro's outstretched arm, smirking in the same way as McKro. “Now that is called skill! We will get along well Gullper. Here you go!” says McKro as he throws a worm in the air and watches Gullper swallow it whole in one gulp. “Now lets see your ugly Fletchling! Ha ha ha!” mocks McKro.

“Clown!” says Emma as Burd sends his D' Burd soaring up into the sky. Gullper joins in and they both make a fierce, mid-air, eye contact.

“Gullper! Sink their pride with a Water Gun attack. Lets go!” says McKro.

“Dodge it D' Burd!” shouts Burd, but Fletchling is unable to dodge the attack completely and is hit by the attack as it tried to roll away. Burd flinched as he saw D' Burd getting hurt, but quickly pulled himself back together.

Burd thought to himself that fighting against Wingull in the air was impossible with its ranged attacks. “Land behind the bush D' Burd” says Burd nervously as he sees D' Burd land near the bush and hop around to the back of it.

“If you wanted it to hop around, you might as well have chosen a hoppip, you know. Gullper! swoop down and knock it out with a powerful Water Gun attack.” says McKro.

“Burd! What are you doing? The Water attack will be move powerful from above. You need to fight him in the air.” says Emma.

Burd was now under pressure. He did not know what to do.
How could he protect his Fletchling from getting beaten down?
What can he do, to fend of McKro's offensive attacks?
Will he make a fool out of himself?
But young Fletchling is dependent on him, he has to think of something quick.​

--------------------------

Gullper dived down swiftly and sprayed the entire bush with it's heavy water gun attack. D' Burd was drenched with water all over it's body and it shook itself dry immediately and was smiling at Gullper playfully. But as Gullper was getting ready to spray another attack on Fletchling, Burd says “D'Burd! Fly to that tree. Get away!”

Fletchling made it's way to the tree, followed by a stream of water gushing out from Wingull's beaks that hit the leaves as Fletchling made it's way through the branches. But as Wingull was trying to get away from the tree, it's scarf got caught on the tip of one of the tree's branches.

Wingull struggled to free itself and the scarf was now tightening across it's neck, Burd called out to his Fletchling, “D' Burd tackle!” and Fletchling hopped over the branches and jumped up and tackled the struggling Gullper, which released itself from the scarf by using the momentum of the impact, rolling itself away.

“Now that is what I call a professional play. Gullper! You are the best! I ...” says McKro as his eyes begin to water and he quickly blinks it away.

Meanwhile, the scarf lands on top of D' Burd's head and it peeks from below the scarf smiling at Gullper. “Gullper! Supersonic attack!” says McKro as he wipes his eyes dry.

“D' Burd! Quick attack towards the ground and take cover.” says Burd. D' Burd holds the scarf with it's beak and performs a quick attack towards the ground.

Gullper's attack misses, so McKro asks it to keep attacking and to follow D' Burd down to the ground.

D' Burd takes cover behind a boulder and the supersonic attack from Gullper hits the boulder and scatters a rubble of stones. D' Burd swings it's head around the stones so as to avoid it and some of the stones fall into the silk scarf. Gullper now gets closer to D' Burd so McKro asks him to use another supersonic attack when he is in range.

“What are you doing? At this rate you will end up tiring D' Burd. You have to attack. Stop being a milksop!” cries Emma “Look at how tired he already is.” she adds and Burd looks at D' Burd who is breathing heavily.

“D' Burd do you want to continue battling?” says Burd and D' Burd stands erect in one swift motion pushing it's wings to the side and lifting it's beak, which reminded Burd of Glacy. But as D' Burd was doing so, the scarf moved in a swing above it's head and the stones fell behind D' Burd.

Burd immediately understood what he had to do. He says “D' Burd chill and stay put.” Emma looks at him in total surprise and irritation, where as McKro smiles smugly at Burd while he commands, “Lets finish this off Gullper, Supersonic attack!”

But as Gullper was opening it's mouth, Burd signals D' Burd to come towards him and D' Burd hops just in time to avoid the attack. The attack makes the rubble fly up once again and Burd jumps into a three-sixty degree turn, D' Burd looking at Burd mimics a clumsy rotation. But, miraculously ends up collecting the rubble in the scarf again.

“Gullper! Go closer for your attack. Don't let it miss.” shouts McKro. Meanwhile, Burd commands D'Burd to use a quick attack towards himself.

“What? Ha ha! Now, you have totally lost it Burdie! This is our chance Gullper! Lets finish the two stooges with one attack. Shoot a powerful Water gun attack on them.” says McKro.

Just as the attack is released, Burd asks D' Burd to do a quick attack towards the sky and gets himself completely drenched in the process. Weak from its constant attacking, Gullper slows down. Immediately Burd signals D' Burd to drop the scarf with the rubble.

The scarf with the rubble hits Gullper directly on it's head and it struggles to stay on it's feet. Burd asks D' Burd to swoop down for one final quick attack, that hits Gullper right between it's eyes and knocks it cold.

D' Burd lands next to Gullper and struggles, before finally managing to stay up.

“Gullper is unable to battle and the winner of this battle is Burd and his D' Burd.” says Professor Hawks.

McKro calls Gullper back to its pokeball and looks at Burd who is hugging and kissing D' Burd. They both make eye contact and McKro turns around throwing his right hand up as a sign of Adieu.

The Professor, Emma and Burd all congratulate D' Burd on his first win and Burd mumbles softly into D' Burd's ears “For life?” and D' Burd looks back at Burd, with a tilted head and gives him a beaming smile.
​


Folks, Sorry for posting thrice. I got 'entries' mixed up with 'posts'. So three of my posts are for the same entry. If you want me to edit them into one post, please let me know.​

*Credit for the image goes to Pokemon Wiki and it can be used here as per CC-BY-SA license.
​
 
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Otter Power

Otter Power

I took 10 thousand years on this, but I'm glad to have made it in time!

This first part is the story I wrote to go with my art. The person who was gonna write for me couldn't participate, so I whipped this up.

Four times we've failed to make it through this forest. A flash of dark fur, the yellow eyes, Ken taking cover over me, then darkness. I'm his best friend, his life partner. He never wants me to get hurt. And yet, I sit by him on the stretcher, wondering why *I* let him get all bloody and bruised. His feeble eyes looking up at me, just happy I'm alright... I just can't bear to see him like that again and again. It tears me up inside.

Seeing that sight for the fourth time, something clicked in me. I couldn't stand it any longer, and it was my turn to fight back. Our adversary was a strong one, but I couldn't care less. This was for my best friend.

We made our way through the woods one more time. Right on queue, we saw a flash of dark fur. Ken stopped in his tracks and held me tight. Yellow, glowing eyes looked menacingly through the trees. I freed myself from Ken's grip, and looked straight back at the eyes. In an instant, they ran for Ken, but I threw my body between them. I felt the psychic energy building up in my forehead -- it was my time to shine.

"I-inkay! Are you sure about this?!" Ken's voice pierced the darkness.

I nodded; this time, we would make it through. This time, I would be saving him.

"Al--alright then, buddy... Use Psychic!"

This time... I fight!


And now, my artwork ^w^ (Direct imgur link here because it's a flipping huge file)

 
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jackyflack

Hi! Uh, here's my writing submission.

The title is "I'll Fight With You," and it'll be my only submission. So, here it is.

Dark and cold, the winter night pushed through, with the wind howling and the stars shining brightly above. Not a cloud sat in the sky, but snow still fell down heavily enough to keep anyone boarded up at home.

The little Buizel lied on a cushion next to its owner's bed, eyes closed, but not sleeping.

The owner of the small, furry Pokemon, Jack, was asleep in his own bed. He had medium-long golden hair and a short, red beard. His breathing was short and heavy, caused by his asthma. It was usually controlled well, but the freezing winter storm was too much for him tonight. His breathing was not what kept Buizel awake, however; it was his shaking and moaning.

Buizel and Jack had been together for a month that day, and were already inseparable. Buizel was found in the river one day with a plastic bag wrapped around its head, on the verge of drowning. It wasn't uncommon for wild Pokemon to get caught in trash and find themselves in garbage-related predicaments, but Buizel's was no accident. His situation was caused by a previous owner. He was fished out of the half-frozen river by Jack, who took him in and nursed him back to health. Buizel was not accustomed to this sort of hospitality; he was still very young, at five months old, and had only known aggression and anger within this short time. Jack, however, showed him something else; something new to the little sea-weasel. Buizel was happy for the first time in his life and had no plans of ever leaving his new owner's side.

Tonight, though, Buizel's happy heart was filled with fear. The breathing problems were normal, happening at least once a week, and were easily fixed by the use of an inhaler. This new problem was not so easily repaired, or understood.

Buizel yawned quietly, and wiped his eyes with his paws. He stood up and sneaked over to his owner's side, looking on with curiosity.

Jack was twitching, shaking, and making noises. Buizel tried poking Jack's face with his paw, to wake him, but was shocked when Jack made a noise that sounded like he was in pain. Buizel stepped back, worried, and kept watching for a few minutes.

The twitching, shaking, and moaning were only the beginning. Jack soon began sleep-talking, saying phrases such as “please, no,” “leave me alone,” and “you're killing me.” Buizel's arms were shaking, and he grew overwhelmed by fear.

Buizel climbed on top of the bed and sat on his owner's chest, trying to shake his owner's face with the hopes of waking him. It failed, so Buizel then tried to use his water attacks; however, it was too cold for him to generate any water.

Jack's moaning grew louder, and Buizel was too afraid to stay too close, so he jumped off the bed and sat by the door.

These noises and reactions were not necessarily uncommon for Jack; they just hadn't happened in awhile. He used to suffer this nearly once every other day, but in recent years, the attacks seemed to space themselves. They weren't asthma, weather, or time related. They were night terrors.

The night terrors had plagued Jack since he was young. They were all about the same thing; his father. When he was younger, he lived at home with his mother, sister, and father, but it was far from a happy home. His father was a substance abuser, of multiple things, and was also the victim of multiple psychological disorders. These problems all led to an abusive nature, causing physical and psychological trauma to Jack, his mother, and sister. This battle was finally beaten with a call to the police when Jack was twelve, but all the years of abuse were not without their consequences; they left him with memory issues and consistent, horribly vivid nightmares for the rest of his life.

Now, nineteen, and living on his own, the nightmares had slowed down exponentially. They came in waves, lasting a few days at a time, occurring every other month or so. Tonight was the first time Buizel had ever encountered this night terrors, but he did not understand what they were or where they came from.

All he knew was that they were coming from Jack's sleep.

Desperate for help, Buizel jumped and opened the door, running into the kitchen. He jumped atop the kitchen counter and opened the window, braving the cold and running into the forest.

Buizel ran for over half an hour, trucking through the snow, looking for any Pokemon that could help. All the others were snuggled in their dens, and a few tried offering him the warmth of their homes, but he declined. He was looking for something specific.

Buizel needed a Pokemon that could help him see Jack's dreams.

After another hour of searching, he finally came upon exactly whom he needed. A wild Hypno was sitting in a small cave, warming up by a fire. Buizel shook the snow off his fur and called into the cave to get its attention.

The Hypno looked over, stopped, and stood. It motioned with its hand for the Buizel to come over.

Buizel did as it said, and immediately started explaining everything. It began crying, begging the Hypno for any help it could give.

Hypno, not even responding, grabbed Buizel by the hand and left the cave. Buizel, happy to have help, led the way to its home.

The two climbed through the window and Buizel offered a blanket to its helper, but the Hypno rejected the blanket. It walked straight to Jack's bedroom door and pushed it open with its psychic powers.

Buizel ran in to see Hypno standing on top of Jack's bed, using its powers on him. Buizel, confused, started walking over, but stopped when Hypno used its powers on him too. It felt itself grow tired and hit the floor, falling asleep.

It woke to see itself in its house in the daytime. It's bedroom was destroyed, and there was a bit of blood on Jack's bed.

Buizel ran out the door to look for Jack. It finally found him outside, holding his arm, crying. Blood was going down his arm onto the dirt, forming a puddle with his tears. Buizel ran over, yelling, and jumping to hug his owner. Jack held him tight, confused, and pulled Buizel away.

“Buizel, what are you doing here? You need to run!” he yelled, tears falling down his face.

Buizel stared at his arm, afraid, and Jack put him down to cover his arm. “It's nothing, buddy. Don't worry about-”

The door flew open violently. A man, looking like an older Jack with scars on his face burst out, his face filled with rage. Jack flinched at seeing him, and the man made a failed attempt to grab him.

“You brat, you get back in here and clean this house up now!” the man yelled. Jack stood up quickly, grabbing Buizel's paw and taking off.

“You need to run, Buizel. You can't be here.” he cried, running as fast as he could with the little Pokemon at his hand.

Buizel immediately understood. It was just like the problems he had faced before he met Jack, only worse. He panicked, and tripped on the ground, waking up on impact.

He looked around, terrified, and saw that the Hypno had gone. He sighed, realizing it was a dream. Buizel looked at Jack, wincing and grabbing his arm in his sleep, and remembered that it was his dream.

He paused, thinking. Standing up from the floor, Buizel walked over to the bed and climbed in, nudging his way between Jack's arm.

Jack's breathing slowed, and his moaning quieted. Buizel smiled, and licked his owner's cheek.

He knew that this wasn't the end of the fight. The two had a lot in common, and Buizel understood the war his owner was once a part of. This night was just the first of a lifelong battle with Jack's nightmares, but Buizel was ready.

One month ago, Jack saved Buizel's life. Now, Buizel fought alongside his owner, ready for the war ahead.
 
MinekoLucky

MinekoLucky

Mega Stones


I would have preferred a digital version to fix some noticeable errors but I messed myself up and I am unable to do so, so here's the pencil version instead.

I intended this to have multiple interpretations possible. Hopefully people would recognize who the guy on the left really is, however.
 
Crubat

Crubat

My title a surprisingly memorable battle I hope you will like it

From the first day I got my Chikorita, I've been eager for a pokemon battle, but my mother wouldn't let me go outside my hometown,

because it's too dangerous, so I've been training up my Chikorita to get ready before my first battle, after a few days when I asked my mother

to go have a battle on the next route, a familiar person saw me with my Chikorita, it was my brother, John!

As John ran up to me he said: "Broooo! Long time no see!" I was so happy seeing him again, "Oh John! So happy to see you!" Spencer(me) replied

"I see you have got a pokemon" John said "Yeah it's a Chikorita!" Spencer replied, and after 1 second, he challenged me to a battle!

As soon as he ended the sentence I replied "Yes" instantly, "But first let me say Hi to mom and tell her we're going to the pokemon center's battlefeild to battle"

Spencer nodded and went to the house and John and Mom greeted each other and asked, she thought about it and agreed.

So they headed the pokemon center, said hi to nurse Joy and asked if they can use the battlefield, and said "Yes" as they entered the battlefield I said "Good luck" to my brother

And he replied it too.

As we were in places, I sent out my chikorita instantly, My brother sent out a quilava, It was clearly a typing disadvantage for me, but I still tried

"You can have the first move, bro" John said "Okay then, Chikorita use tackle!" As Chikorita ran to use tackle, Quilava looked at John and then John nodded

and then Quilava dodged and used ember! I was shocked, “Chikorita?! Are you okay?!” Chikorita nods and stands up glaring at Quilava, “How did Quilava use a move without being ordered?!” I said

I was waiting for an answer, but my brother just grinned, and said “Continue” so, I told Chikorita to use synthesis, and Chikorita gained health, then my brother order Quilava “Use quick attack!” I told Chikorita to dodge it, then ordered Chikorita to use razor leaf, and it hit! John said “You’re quite impressive bro” I replied “I have been practicing, and promised myself to win my first battle!” John smiled and said to Quilava “Use ember!” I told Chikorita to use light screen, it weakened the damage and it seemed like Chikorita didn’t even feel anything, then told Chikorita to use tackle, and John ordered Quilava to use swift, thanks to light screen, the hit weakened and Chikorita continued to use tackle and hit!

It looked like I was going to win but then, “I didn’t know I had to take it this far but, Quilava! Use flame wheel! ” I was shocked and couldn’t do anything, and Chikorita got hit, I thought it would end here but, Chikorita was glowing white, making Chikorita un-seeable, I was surprised and look at my brother, and he was smiling, I was wondering what was happening, then Chikorita looked bigger when she was glowing, and the shape changed a bit, and then Chikorita stopped glowing, I was confused, cause Chikorita changed, then my brother said “Spencer, this is what they say an evolution” “An evolution?” I replied, my brother nodded “An evolution is when pokemon change their appearances, get stronger, and learn new moves!” I replied “Woooow! Now me and Chikorita can surely defeat anyone!” “It’s not Chikorita anymore bro, once Chikorita evolves it becomes a Bayleef” John said “Alright Bayleef! Let’s win this battle!”

I saw my Bayleef’s moveset and saw new moves and tried to use them, “Okay! Bayleef use magical leaf!” And it hit! I knew this move would never miss cause it chased after Quilava when it was trying to dodge it, John ordered Quilava “Quilava use swift!” Considering light screen is still up till now, it didn’t do anything to bayleef too, I then ordered Bayleef to use tackle, it hit Quilava pretty hard, then John said “Your Chikorita is a lot stronger after it evolved but, it’s going to end here, Quilava! Use flame wheel!” Bayleef got hit! I was so worried about Bayleef, I told Bayleef to use synthesis, Bayleef regained health, but wasn’t enough

John was in a clearly disadvantage considering the health of Bayleef’s goes up each time it uses synthesis, then told Quilava to use quick attack, I told Bayleef to use tackle, they both hit each other with their moves, and big dust came up, making the pokemon in the battle completely concealed, I was trying to look for Bayleef, and John was doing that to his pokemon, and then the dust come off, we saw both our pokemon fainted, so it was tie! I told my brother “ That was a nice battle, good game” He replied “ You too! Good game” I ran to my mother, telling her what happened, and finally asked her to go on a journey, she thought about it then said “I will pack up your things then!” Then I thanked my mother, me and my brother decided to travel together, thanks to that battle, my mother ecognized me as a strong trainer, that is a surprisingly memorable battle.
 
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KimikoFujii

Here's my writing entry, I did in a few minutes. The title is Our First Battle
To battle, to battle! my fiery Fennekin!
Hark, to the cries of battle!
use tackle, use tackle, with all your might;
We'll beat our first foe, before the day is done.
Let not the darkness of fear enter your heart
Be Brave, Be Stout, Be Bold;
and trust me my friend, it will soon avail you,
My devout pokemon with a heart made of gold.
Hurrah, my valiant pokemon! again I say Hurrah!
It was hard fought, but the day is ours. hurrah, hurrah!
 
Calyxium

Calyxium

This was my first time writing any kind of fic or short story, but I had a lot of fun taking an alternate route with the theme. I really enjoyed writing this, so I'm grateful that I was allowed to submit it, even though it exceeds the word limit. I enjoyed trying to create a pokémon story where trainers and pokémon battles aren't the main focus, and where regular, important real-life things still happen to overlooked NPCs.

Battles
A bomb went off in April’s kitchen.

At least, that’s what it felt like to her. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her parents, eating breakfast, an uninspired cereal, something-o’s, when the phone rang, and then her life detonated.
It was her mother who answered, and April watched her wrinkled, papery mouth go taut, flattening into a smooth line. She closed her eyes in a long blink and nodded, even though the speaker on the phone, presumably, couldn’t tell. April thought she saw something change in her mother’s face, but she couldn’t be sure what it was.
There was a pause, and then her mother said, “I see” and, “Yes, we’ll be there.” And then that was that.

April didn’t know at the time that her life had just exploded, they had to sit down and explain it to her.


***


There were still many mysteries surrounding pokémon, despite how long they’ve been around, and about as much misinformation as there was information. Plenty of phenomena that was well understood by the scientific community was still, by and large, unknown to the people who dealt with it most often; the pokémon trainers.
The area that concerned April was pokémon breeding. Extensive research had been conducted on the subject, and designer breeding for stronger or aesthetically different pokémon was a rapidly growing niché, but trainers were constantly surprised when they turned up to collect their pokémon and discovered they had a new, egg-shaped burden to consider. The vast majority of pokémon trainers understood the mechanics of pokémon breeding in the vague and incomplete way that people understand virology, and the capsule system.

April knew all about it, of course. That was what she did. Or rather, what she would do, when her ageing parents finally retired. When she was younger this was something April dreamed of; she would groan loudly and roll her eyes at the great injustice of being tasked with trivial errands and menial duties, and ardently wished for the day when her parents would hand over the proverbial reins to her, quietly retiring to jointly reminisce about what life was like when they were her age, millennia ago.
As she got older, however, April realised more completely what their retirement actually meant. She noticed their slips and absent minded moments becoming more and more frequent, missed appointments, mixed-up medications, and once - terrifyingly, the gas stove left on, free to spew its silent, invisible poison into the air of their home for a full morning before anybody noticed. The jokes and self-deprecating chuckles and that used to accompany their silly mistakes gradually transmuted into quiet, impotent, frustration.

April didn’t want to take over any longer. She would wash food dishes, muck out habitats, and hell, even groom Logan, if they could all only remain as they were.

If there’s a single lesson life teaches us, April thought, it’s that wishing doesn’t make it so.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, no longer eating breakfast with her parents. Her bowl sat untouched, soggy corn loops disintegrating in their pool of milk. By now, she judged, her parents would be sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs in a sterile waiting room, plastered with informational flyers and filled with the kind of dense, anticipatory silence that preceded bad news, broken only by the usual shuffling and ringing and quiet murmuring noises of bureaucratic administration in progress, as life, callously, continued on all around them.

The explosive payload the phone delivered, was a diagnosis. A cruelly unambiguous confirmation, that robbed them of the fearful speculation which was, in hindsight, preferable. The suspicion had lurked for months, never fully realised or verbalised or actually, willingly, consciously considered, just in case the act of entertaining the idea could have somehow made it manifest.
The phone was too innocuous a delivery method for such mass destruction, April thought, but then, in real life, the really bad things happened in the most mundane, and undramatic ways.

It wasn’t a surprise, though that didn’t help. They were practically ancient, Ma and Pa (the two insisted on the folksy colloquialism, Solaceon was that sort of town) and for a while now had been hovering just over the peak, suspended, like on a fairground rollercoaster when you are dragged, excruciatingly slowly to the top, tipped just slightly over the edge and left to stare down, through waving, dangling legs to the abyss below, waiting for the fall to begin.
But unlike a fairground ride, this fall would not be swift and over quickly, and they would not end it flushed and exhilarated and eager to collect their souvenir photograph. They were beginning the descent into the slow, awful, implacable slide of senility.
They had been called into the medical practice to ‘discuss their options’, and dutifully filed out, April staying behind to mind the Centre. They all knew perfectly well that there weren’t any options, but nobody wanted to admit it.

Her parents would, she knew, begin the ride as the vital, vibrant people she remembered from her childhood, as full of life as they were of kindness and the effortless ability to love unconditionally. And along the way, they would trade their passions and their kindness, their dignity, their identity, piece by piece for one small humiliation after another, and by the end of it the people she knew would be gone, and in their place a perfect visual representation of everything she had lost.
It was a cruel, merciless race. The finish line was the utter obliteration of everything about you that mattered, and the only victors were the ones who never reached it.

At least they would be going down together, although April couldn't tell if that was better or worse than the alternative. Since the day they met, her parents had been inseparable. They did everything together, went everywhere together, and it seemed, against all medical and statistical probability, that this journey would be no exception.

His and Hers dementia, she thought, bitterly.

They were not her real parents, though you wouldn’t know it to look at her. They were in every sense that mattered, but if one wanted to be absolutely technical about the whole affair, then they were more properly her adoptive parents, or perhaps, most accurately, her saviours. She was a rescue, like the house’s other permanent residents. That was what her parents did. They rescued people, and they had rescued her.

April didn’t know who was actually responsible for bringing her into the world and then promptly dropping her, without even the courtesy of a soggy cardboard box or a hastily scribbled note of apology, on the Daycare Centre’s doorstep, and she did not care to. They had left their small bundle of joy behind and fled into the night, and as far as April was concerned, permanently out of her life.

The morning that the Daycare Centre’s owners, a couple well into their fifties and still somehow revelling in perfect marital bliss, opened their front door and discovered the infant, discarded and squalling, was the morning of April 1st. They had brought her into their home, and into their hearts, and given her the month as her namesake.

In school, when they discovered her birthday, a number of the town’s children had taken to calling her “Fool” in place of her name. How ironic, April had thought, when she was old enough to actually appreciate irony, and feeling that sense of melancholy detachment that comes with all teenage existential crises, my birth is literally a joke.

But now here she was, seventeen years later. April was reasonably pretty, and reasonably tall for a girl, and muscular enough that the boys in town thought twice about either trying to hit her, or hit on her. She wore her long, chestnut hair in a perpetual ponytail and tried to dress as invisibly as possible. All things considered, her seventeen years had been good ones, much better than she had any right to expect, given the rather abysmal start. She was one of many discarded, cast-off burdens that had been saved by this house, and brought into this growing family.
This family, that would soon be left relying entirely on her.

The bomb went off again in April’s head, and she stared at the cereal bowl, abruptly, irrationally hating it. Hating its stupid, soggy o’s and its presence, here in this tableau of her devastation. It felt, somehow, like an inappropriate and insensitive affront to her own personal grief.
She seized the bowl and threw it in the general direction of the sink. It sailed over, hitting the tiled wall behind the basin and shattering with a satisfying sound effect and spray of milk and blue ceramic chunks.
April watched the mess unfold in the wake of her outburst and waited to feel something different.

She wasn’t surprised when she didn’t.
She thought about the guided missile that was the doctor’s phone call, and stared intently at the offending object, willing it to ring again and somehow undo the damage. It was mounted on one sunny yellow wall next to the refrigerator, a tall rickety stool sitting beneath it, where her mother would sit and absorb the town gossip.
April found she wanted to rip the phone from the wall and hurl it across the tiny kitchen, too, certainly it was more deserving of it than the bowl had been. Instead, she closed her eyes in one long, strength gathering blink, and then opened them to look around, hoping to find the sense of calm and peace that usually stole upon her in this room, with its cheery paint and the golden sunlight that streamed through the screen door, and past the blue and white chequered curtains that framed the window.

Her tranquillity was hiding, perhaps, behind a cream cupboard door, or inside the novelty miltank cookie jar that sat atop the wooden counter. That was a big thing around here, miltank ornaments, oven timers, clocks, you name it. It was kitschy as all hell but her mother loved and collected them, and looking around April realised that most of the little miltank objects she could see had been gifts from her, including an embarrassingly misshapen clay mug she had made several years ago in school. April wondered if her mother would forget who had made it, or the Mother’s Day when April proudly presented it to her.

The kitchen was what a kind person would call ‘shabby-chic’, and an honest one, probably just shabby. The same held true for the rest of their little home, which was old even before her parents had bought it, decades ago. The single-storey Kalos-country style cottage had been added on to in successive years; re-roofed with terracotta tiles when the impracticalities of thatching finally became too much, an extension added to house an additional bedroom and the reception area, and gradually expanding the surrounding fields and gardens into the sprawling, confused ranch it was today.
The décor boasted faded, peeling wallpaper of patterns once vibrant, now incomprehensible with age, naturally dark, creaky wooden floor boards liberally scattered with burgundy and deep, ochre threadbare rugs in various, and often clashing, designs, and an assortment of mismatched furniture buried under books, framed photographs, bric-a-brac and various odds and ends (a ridiculous percentage of which were also part of her mother’s miltank collection) that challenged the holding capacity of every surface. What surfaces were visible; the edges of tables, shelves, chairs and kitchen counter, were a cheery yellowish pine, their once rough exteriors worn down to a smooth, shiny patina.
It was small, overfilled, quaint, and dangerously unfashionable. It was home.

Being here had always filled April with a sense of belonging. It was a cosy, warm, familiar place filled with the sounds of their combined life together. Now it felt empty and cavernous, the air stale and heavy. The only sound the faint and unrelenting ticking of the large, circular wall clock. April took a breath and let it out, slowly, trying to revive something inside herself that would allow her to keep functioning, on at least, a basic mechanical level. This wallowing was accomplishing nothing, and anyway, she could ruminate at length on her misery while in motion. There were things to do, after all. They were depending on her, now.

The routine was a familiar one, as the bags of kibble their house guests prefered came in bulk, and April was the only resident strong enough to lift them. She mechanically set out and filled fourteen bowls, portions varying by dietary need, along the kitchen floor.
Once done, she filled another silver bowl with seed from an easy tilt-pour plastic container, before returning it to its shelf, where it served as bookend for a pile of unused cookbooks.

This accomplished, April stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled.

The reaction was immediate and cacophonous. The foreboding atmosphere that had settled over the place instantly shattered, and her home was filled again with the sight and sound of a small army of pokémon, enough to fill a safari zone, appearing as if from nowhere and piling into the kitchen. April snatched the silver bowl from the counter and had to retreat to the kitchen’s back door just to make space for them all.
Crowded into their tiny kitchen now, were the house’s other occupants. All the pokémon who, over the years, had been left behind by their trainers, and had been rescued, just as she had.

It was a vast assortment, creatures with four legs, two, none at all, creatures who flew, swam, bounced, or floated. There was much jostling and collective shuffling, but eventually everyone carved out a space by their assigned bowl, and settled in to eat.

April glanced up and sighed. Almost everyone.
“Really, Logan? Are we going to do this every day?”

The growlithe sat on his haunches in the doorway opposite her, stubborn refusal in every muscle of his posture. He was watching the others with an intensely disapproving glare until she spoke, at which point the look transformed into a glower on its way to her.
The hostility came as no surprise. Logan’s case was one of the worst. He was dropped off initially with a female growlithe named Lucy. The pair of them spent an uneventful but happy fortnight together, until the morning that Logan’s trainer re-appeared, collected Lucy and the resulting egg, and left, leaving Logan behind.

For days, Logan sat patiently by the desk in the reception area, awaiting the return of his trainer, of Lucy and their child. Loyal to a fault, he waited, sleeping fitfully by the desk, eating only if the food was placed where he sat. Months passed, and eventually April explained, as gently as possible, that his trainer wasn’t coming back, that Logan would live with them now, that he was part of their family. He snapped and barked, and April narrowly avoided losing fingers in the hasty retreat. The other pokémon tried to talk to him, to comfort him, but he turned sullen and hostile, and now even a year later, still rebuffed violently any and all suggestion that he, like them, had been abandoned. April wondered if a creature so innately loyal could even understand the concept of betrayal.

As much as she resented the trainers she saw traipsing through their office, selfish and irresponsible, dreaming only of their future glory and caring nothing for the fate of the pokémon they deemed unnecessary for reaching that goal, April had to admit that she also, privately, envied them. They didn’t deserve it, but they had a bond with their pokémon that was nigh unbreakable. A trust, a partnership forged in the fire and fury of battle that was beyond anything April could imagine ever having for herself. And she wanted it, badly.
She looked at the love between her parents, and the strength of the loyalty Logan had for his undeserving trainer, and she wanted something of her own.

April stepped forward, and halted immediately as Logan’s fur bristled, the large canine’s body tensing and lowering into a defensive crouch, lips peeling back to bare glistening teeth, emitting a bass rumble of a warning growl that April felt through the thick soles of her boots.
“Okay, okay!”
She lifted her hands, palms out, in a placating gesture, and took one deliberate step backwards.
“But you know you’ll eat it eventually, you always do.”

Logan merely huffed in response, and returned to watching the others. April, leaving him to it, retreated through the back door and into the garden.

The garden outside was as massive as the house was tiny. It had originally started as just a square plot, an ordinary garden, but had expanded to swallow practically half the town. The entire thing was divided into squares, and each square housed a different kind of pokémon habitat. Whether it was grassy plains, rocky outcrops or even a miniature aquatic biome, they had a little of everything. The square plot April walked through now was rather dull by comparison; a neat, if plain, garden, the grass kept short enough to discourage mischief, and lined with flower beds in full, multicoloured bloom. At the centre of the square stood a large flowering cherry tree, which filled the air with delicate pink petals. There was a small, wooden bench under it with ornately curling, dark green metal framework; a favourite spot for April to sit for hours and drink in the outdoors.
Today however, she passed under the tree, ducking branches until she came to the small hut that took up the back corner of the main garden.

It was a ramshackle old hut, wooden logs held together, mostly by prayer, April thought, and housing possibly the most important of the Centre’s residents. The door creaked as she went in, spilling light in a rectangle over the hay-strewn floor. The inside of the hut was much like the outside, wooden logs, no ornamentation. The ground was littered with stray bits of hay and straw, and in one corner, a large nest, constructed from branches, leaves, various garden detritus, strips of cloth and even a few buttons. In the middle of it sat Atticus, the ancient and matronly talonflame that had joined them years ago, and the only resident who never left the hut.
April approached quietly, setting down the bowl of seed just by the edge of the nest. Atticus shifted and ruffled her feathers, but did not get up.

“How’re they doing today, Atti? Any close to hatching?”

The bird cooed and shook one darkly orange feathered wing, and April had no idea what that was supposed to mean.
Atticus had been with them the longest, longer even than April had, and when an irreparable wing injury had taken her ability to fly, she had taken it upon herself to warm and watch over the eggs their Centre produced. Whether they were collected by trainers, or rejected and left behind, every egg was cared for by Atticus, kept warm and safe until it hatched. April tried not to think of all the eggs that would be rejected by trainers too busy or unconcerned to take care of them. She was not unaware of the similarity between them and herself.

She was almost back to the kitchen when she felt it. A tremor running through the ground. Gentle at first, and rapidly getting stronger. She glanced up, and there, amid a cloud of dust, was the looming, terrifying figure of an oncoming tauros. It was on the far side of the square, but it would not take long to cross the space. Behind it, the fence that had once separated their grounds from Solaceon town lay in splintered ruins.
The beast was huge, two massive, gleaming metallic curved horns jutted from either side of its lowered head, three tails whipping madly at the thick, muscular hide, its hooves kicking up a storm of dust as it came.

April stared in disbelief. It was utterly impossible. Wild pokémon did not just go rampaging about through town; there were fences, electric fences, deep underground that bordered grassy pokémon habitats in the wild. She didn’t know exactly how they worked but had been assured that they did work, otherwise towns would be overrun constantly.
The impossibility did not seem to care that it was impossible, and it was getting closer.
April cast around frantically for help, and saw none.

The eggs, she realised, as disbelief gave way to blind panic, it’s going to hit them.

The bull pokémon hurtling toward her was heading straight for the hut in which Atticus sat protecting her adopted brood. At the speed it was running, the collision would bring the entire building down, with Atticus and the eggs inside crushed by falling timber, if not by the tauros’ hooves directly.

By the time it occurred to April that she needed to move, she realised she was already running, some unconscious part of her having worked out that there was no way she could get back to the hut and move the eggs in time, while the rest of her conscious mind was still frozen in horror. She was already doing what she now realised was the only thing she could do. She raced across the garden and planted herself directly in the path of the oncoming beast, heels dug into the ground, arms shakily outstretched.

This is insane, she thought, feeling a lunatic giggle bubbling up her throat at the absolute absurdity of what she was about to attempt. Like trying to stop a train.
The dust billowed and stung her eyes, and April felt her pulse thunder in time with the hoof beats.
She felt the cool dampness of sweat at the back of her neck. Felt her breath catch.
It was almost upon her, and the sight of the sun glinting off the sharp tip of each curved horn made the giddy, surreal feeling from moments ago grow cold and congeal in her stomach.
It was seconds away.
Three.
Two.

April closed her eyes.

An impact flung her backward, and then another as her back collided with a solid surface she realised, belatedly, must be the ground. Every ounce of air left her lungs all at once, and it took several moments before she managed to suck more in.
Strange, it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would have. She couldn’t quite work out why she hadn’t felt the rending of her body meeting those horns, or the crushing weight of being trampled.

Had it been instantaneous? Was this, death? It was sort of anticlimactic, if she was honest.

Her head had a ringing, pounding quality to it and there was definitely an ache radiating through her torso. The words: blunt force trauma flashed briefly through her mind.
And then the ground was rumbling again. Not the earthquake the stampeding tauros had made, but a familiar rumble. A rumble she recognised.

April opened her eyes, and for a second saw only white. Then she realised, she was staring at ivory fur, quivering and each hair standing on end. She wriggled backwards, discovering to her surprised delight that such a thing was still possible, and sat up.
She was on the ground, and in front of her, looking more furious and more absolutely lethal than she could have imagined possible, was Logan.
He was crouched like a coiled spring, and the snarl that rolled out from him would have given Arceus himself pause. April thought she saw actual literal curls of smoke drifting out from between Logan’s jaws.
The tauros stood a few feet away, looking dazed having been knocked off course. Belatedly April realised that the impact she had felt before hitting the ground must have been Logan, hurtling into them. He had forced the tauros aside and now stood over her. Protecting her.

He was all teeth and jagged slashes of oranges and black, ivory mane overgrown and matted, giving him the feral quality of a wild animal. He was fury in miniature. April stared up, past the comparatively diminutive figure of her protector, to the beast looming over them. It was easily five times Logan’s size; a hulking, enraged juggernaut, versus an angry puppy. The scene would be funny, if it weren't so fucking terrifying.

As she watched, the tauros raked a front hoof against the ground, tails striking at its side, quite literally whipping it into another frenzy. It lowered its head, re-orienting on them, and April realised with a sickening dread that twisted in her guts, that it was preparing to charge again.

Logan tensed, opened his mouth and then… something happened. To describe the thing as sound cannot possibly convey the unbelievable, impossible force it carried. It was a physical thing, a wall of compulsion that tore through the air. April clapped her hands over her ears and felt it rattle her skull. From Logan's mouth a thunderous boom erupted, and momentarily, swallowed the world. For that instant, all other sounds ceased to be; April could no longer hear her panting breaths, the thrumming of her pulse in her ears. Every creature for miles fell silent, frozen. Every creature except the tauros, which staggered back falteringly as if struck by an invisible wave of force and mindless terror, its eyes rolling madly, tails abruptly limp, hooves scrambling in the dirt, all four legs no longer seeming to work in concert. With the sound still echoing into the distance, it turned and fled.

For a long time, April just stared. Her ears rang disorientingly, and she watched the retreating figure of the tauros shrink until it vanished from sight. Only then did Logan seem to relax. The tension seeped out of him and he turned, padding softly around April to her back. She felt the warmth of his muzzle against the small of her back, and then a gentle shove.
Taking the hint, she picked herself up, evaluating her injuries as she did so. A skinned and sluggishly bleeding elbow, a dull throbbing ache in her mid section. Incredibly, that was all.

“You saved me?”
She said it questioningly, as if she wasn’t sure Logan was aware that that was what he had been doing. The canine chuffed once, and nudged the side of her leg with his head.
In spite of herself, April felt her face break into a smile.

“Thank you, Logan.” She reached down tentatively, hand hovering above his head for just a moment, before carefully stroking her fingers through the shaggy mane that ran down from his head. Logan butted his head against her leg again, in response.

“Thank you, thank you,” she repeated softly, meaning it. He had saved her. And from so much more than he knew. She felt something break inside her chest, a wall that had held everything in check. Tears welling in her eyes, April sank to her knees in the dirt and pulled Logan to her, arms wrapping around him in a fierce hug. He chuffed against her ear, and let her.

They stayed like that, until the tears dried on her cheeks and she felt the shuddering sobs recede, her shoulders relaxing. Logan was a comforting, warm presence at her side as she withdrew, plucking stray cherry blossom petals from his mane. She smiled down at him, this small, loyal, brave canine that had defended her with his life. The fire pokémon had ignited something in her; a tiny, flickering hope in her chest. They still had so much work ahead of them, so many burdens and so much pain to come, but as, together, they turned and headed for home, she thought that between them, their shoulders could bear the weight of it.


***


This was April’s first, and only, pokémon battle. She and Logan would have many more battles to face in the coming years, but none of them against pokémon trainers or gym leaders. She would not win badges, or fame or championships. Her battles were to be against time, and against disease, and she would eventually lose, and would watch the people she loved fade away.
She would take up their mantle.
She would watch the new trainers come through town each year, and she would take care of those they left behind, while they ran off to seek their glory.

She wouldn’t envy them.

She had something better.


Thanks for reading!
 
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fx

fx

moon tourism
is an Artist Alumnusis a Forum Moderator Alumnus
I FINALLY finished my artwork entry for this contest, it was alot of fun to make and I'm happy to partake in this ^^'
Here it is! Full image link here for anyone that wants it, beware, it's huge!

Enjoy and good luck to everyone who partook :D
 
wallcat

wallcat

I've decided to attempt to create an art piece and a written piece. My entry can also be found through my Deviant Art (http://wallcat89.deviantart.com/art/Pokemon-First-Battle-473016218.) My idea was to show the first battle as the beginnings of a new rivalry, and the toll it can take on a friendship. I was also trying to show how trainers grow and get better through experience.

Growing Rivalry

first_battle_color.jpg


The Beginnings Of A Rivalry

The arena floor shuddered as Dragonite fell; struck hard in the chest by a dragon pulse from my Hydreigon. In a flash my opponent calls back his final Pokemon and collapses to his knees in dismay. The realization then struck me, causing my muscles to twitch as the adrenaline releases from my body to be replaced by utter joy. My heart is still pounding. I start to raise my hands victoriously only to catch sight of a reflection in my opponent's eyes. Within them I see our past – The first battle to mark the beginnings of our growing rivalry.

We'd grown up together in an obscure old town hidden away in the woods. While many people are unaware of the towns existence, some great Pokemon trainers have been born here. We just love to battle and are very competitive – prepared with knowledge taught from a very young age. Alex and I had finally been granted permission to own our own Pokemon. We'd talked on many occasions about this day.

I remember feeling so humbled as I held the shiny red and white capsule in my hands. How amazing it was to know my first Pokemon - a Deino – was curled up inside. I was so excited to begin our journey together where we would forge an everlasting friendship. Beside me Alex was equally enamoured as he moved the ball between his hands – a wide grin on his face.

'Fancy having our first battle,' he gave me a cheeky nudge with his elbow. My heart skipped a beat. Even though I had visualized this moment many times, I suddenly felt nervous.

'It'll just be a casual thing,' he seemed to sense my reservation, 'and we need the practice if we're ever going to become the best Pokemon trainers our town has to offer.' His words comforted me a little, but I had a growing concern for Deino's welfare as well as that of our own friendship. Casual or not, there could only ever be one winner and losing never felt good.

'Ok,' I nodded coyly. Alex's eyes lit up enthusiastically.

As we stood facing each other I was disconcerted to find a curious crowd gathering around us. They were cheering and clapping for no one in particular. Alex was smiling warmly in my direction. I felt reluctant to let go of my newly acquired Pokeball as if It were a delicate and precious jewel.

'Go Deino,' my voice wobbled as I limply threw the ball. I held my breath as it flew to the ground and hit the cobbles with a crack. The two halves suddenly split and a light erupted from within, causing my eyes to squint. For a moment everything seemed to be unfocussed but as my vision once again adjusted to the dim forest I noticed the form of my Deino now stood where the ball had landed. I couldn't help but smile on seeing the beautiful Pokemon.

'Go Dratini,' Alex boomed confidently as he revealed his own Pokemon. The crowd was groaning and stamping their feet in anticipation. From the books I'd read I knew this battle could go either way.

'Go... erm... Tackle,' I called out to my Deino, a little unsure of the Pokemon's abilities. He charged towards the Dratini with his mouth gaping open, but his target was agile. It slithered and writhed around Deino's clamping jaws.

'Wrap,' Alex instructed. The Dratini wound its long serpentine body around my Deino, trapping him in place. It leered into Deino's face, while he continued to gnash his jaws to no avail. Not a great start, I scolded myself. Alex appeared to stifle a laugh as he noticed how distraught I was at this first encounter. He ordered his Dratini to let go so that we could recompose and try again.

We had a few more rounds of calling out orders to our Pokemon to see what they could do. Alex seemed to be more of a natural at this than I was. He was a showman too, revelling in the awe of the crowd. As the battle progressed he seemed to become ever more elaborate with the way he instructed his Pokemon, much to the delight of the onlookers. I didn't seem to garner the same level of applause for my own meagre attempts.

During our final round Dratini had managed to engulf itself with yellow sparks; a loud crackling echoed through the forest. I jumped as the Pokemon veered towards my Deino and I.

'Dodge it,' I had little time to think and called out the first command that came to mind, as obvious as it was. The Deino clumsily sidestepped and somehow managed to avoid the Dratini as it flew past. Now he was facing the serpents back. For the first time I finally felt hopeful of our chances. Deino darted forward in an attempt to catch the Dratini off guard. No such luck. The Dratini was able to twist back on itself with ease, catching Deino in the chest with a burst of electricity. His body quivered as he fell to the ground.

'No. Get up Deino,' My hands hurt from inadvertently digging my nails into my palms. Dratini obediently slithered back to Alex's side. Everyone was now staring intently at the Deino waiting for him to move. A faint fizzle could still be heard emanating from his body. Using my mind I tried to urge as much positive energy as I could in his direction but nothing happened. Silly idea anyway.

'I've had enough,' I tried to choke back tears as I fumbled around for my misplaced Pokeball. I knew it didn't matter but the concession of losses had left a bitter taste in my mouth. I thought Alex and I would be on more of an even footing than this but instead It felt like I'd run head first into a brick wall. Across from me Alex appeared to be enjoying his victory. Throughout the crowd, people were whispering about how our town may have found its next champion.

My Pokeball had somehow rolled into a grassy verge on the side of the cobbles. As I made my way over to re-collect it I noticed Alex pointing towards my Deino while carrying a smirk. What was he planning now?

'Ice beam,' He boomed. A shudder erupted through my body. I was astounded, how could his Dratini already know such a move? There was no way my Deino was going to be able to take that. I looked at my vulnerable Pokemon and instinctively felt the need to protect him. As the Dratini arched its head and summoned forth a cold beam of ice I leapt forward to intercept its path. I had one hand on Deino's body and the other held high as a shield. My body swayed back a little as I took the freezing impact; gritting my teeth.

I was panting heavily when the bombardment finally ceased. My body was stiff from the shock. My arm felt numb; somehow I managed to move it down, causing my shoulder to creak a little. Alex was walking towards me with worry lines creasing his face.

'Are you ok? I never expected you to...' He started.

'I thought you said this was going to be a casual battle,' I snapped, causing him to pause on the spot.

'I'm sorry. I was just so excited to show that off.'

'You got carried away like you always do. Just you wait until next time.' I had unleashed a threat. I turned back to my Deino to pat him on the side and made a silent vow to myself that we would train to become stronger. I wanted to be the best trainer from our town. Our rivalry had begun.

Since that first battle my Pokemon and I had forged a close bond over the many trials that followed. With our greater experience we had finally managed to gain victory over Alex. He was now solemnly gazing at the Pokeball where his Dragonite resided with the same hurt that I'd felt for Deino way back then. It suddenly dawns on me that in some ways I am thankful to him, for our bout had given me the much needed determination to improve. We are both worthy champions that any town should be proud of. If I've learnt anything from spending time with my Pokemon it is that while losses and victories come and go, friendship can be eternal.

'I'm sorry,' I hold out my hand to him while offering a gentle smile.

'I'm sorry too.'
 

Syllable

Welcome to the world of Pokemon

https://soundcloud.com/syllablesasbreakfast/syllable-first-battle-contest

Blue wanted to fight, starting my first battle
The perfect verse to explain the turn that the worst happened
My nerves settled, I was clueless, what to do next?
The noobness on my face when I explored this foolish moveset
I move next, What to do with Scratch or growl
Let's do scratch, but my own defense had to fall
Tried growl, apparently I lowered attack
Controlling my steps, could I lower more than one stat?
My fortress happened to fall, is this more than guessing at all?
Red relax, remain rational I'd better be calm
Two more turns and I won, I started wiggling a bit
Pressed power, defeated by a critical hit


My contest entry

Phone quality - I only recorded this to make sure everyone noticed the rhymes.

Please watch with text next to it.
 

EV

Banned deucer.
*slides in at the last second*
It's a little long, but still under the 3000. :)
Top Percentage

(Art by Memieko)​

There was little he could do to control it, so when he saw his grandfather in the kitchen that morning, he wiped his eyes as if the sun was making them water.

"Oji," he said. "What are you doing here?"

His grandfather smiled and patted him on the head. "Today's a special day, Joey. You should eat first. Then we'll talk."

Joey sat down at the kitchen table. His mother stood at the stove frying eggs as she sighed constantly the way she did when she was holding her tongue. His father sat next to Joey with the newspaper unfolded in front of himself, absent from the impending conversation but entirely aware of what was happening.

Finally, his mother spoke. "It's not a good idea, Ojiisan," she said. "Joey is too young. He is not ready."

His grandfather winked at him. "By rights of his birthday, he is ready. And if you mean to say he has not trained, then I will train him."

"It's not a good idea," she repeated, scraping the pan and shaking her head. "Joey is still just a youngster. For now, he's going to apprentice in Azalea Town at the kiln to understand how Pokémon help people. In a few years we can talk about battles and training."

"I don't want to make charcoal," Joey said. "I want to battle like Oji and become a Rattata breeder."

His father huffed behind the newspaper. "Listen to your mother, Joey. She knows best."

They ate in silence. After breakfast, Joey's grandfather asked him to help gather berries in the garden. There was a gleam of mischief in the old man's gentle eyes. His gray eyebrows wiggled like Wurmples when Joey closed the back door and settled in the dirt next to him.

"I came to visit not just to celebrate your birthday, but to give you a special present your parents don't want you to have yet."

His grandfather rifled through his knapsack. Joey's head swirled as he waited to see what was hidden in there. "Ah," his grandfather said. "Here it is." He cupped his hands together as Joey rocked forward to see.

"What is it, Oji?"

His grandfather's hands opened like a flower. Resting on his palm was a red and white ball the size of a Leppa Berry.

"A Poké Ball!" Joey said. "What's inside!"

His grandfather clicked the small button and the ball expanded until it fit nicely in his hand. "Come out," he said and the ball sprang open. A stream of red light arced out from the ball and landed in the dirt. A shape formed into the familiar Pokémon Joey had seen his whole life, the Pokémon that had made his grandfather renowned in all of Johto: a Rattata.

The purple mouse wiggled its nose and sniffed the air. Its tail twitched nervously as it inspected the anxious boy reaching out to pet it. Instinctively it scurried away and hid behind Joey's grandfather, who chuckled and rubbed the mouse's ear.

"Joey is your trainer now," he told the Rattata. "You will listen to him. And Joey, you will take care of this Rattata, do you understand? Handling a Pokémon is a privilege that you have earned. But the responsibility remains for as long as the bond between you two exists."

Joey nodded. His grandfather scooped up the Pokémon and handed it to him. "Thank you, Oji," Joey said. He cradled the Rattata and scratched under its chin. He felt the warmth against his chest as the Rattata nestled itself in his arms, already comfortable with its new owner. "Hello, my new friend," he said.

~
~​

While Rattata twitched its nose and watched from atop the bed, Joey changed into a pair of Wooper-blue shorts and a white T-shirt. He plucked his favorite hat—also blue—off the hook on his door and put it on backward.

"Okay little guy," he said to Rattata. "You gotta go inside the Poké Ball for a while so my parents don't know. I'll let you out later."

He recalled Rattata back into the Poké Ball and shrunk it down so it fit in his pocket. He stopped in front of the mirror before leaving his room, however, and practiced reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ball, saying, "Rattata, I choose you."

"Joooeeey!" his mother called down the hall. "Hurry up! Ojiisan is waiting."

While his grandfather was visiting their village, he'd asked Joey to pick up a few Antidotes from the mart in Cherrygrove City. His parents said he could go alone as long as he didn't dawdle and came back by lunchtime. Secretly, Joey knew why his grandfather had requested he do it alone.

"Some Rattata have an ability called Guts," his grandfather said at the front door. "Very powerful, but at a cost. Antitode cures the poison condition that activates Guts so Rattata doesn't faint after battle." He leaned on his staff, smiling. "Be safe, Joey."

"I will, Oji," Joey said and headed down the dirt road. But before he got too far, his grandfather called out and hobbled after him.

"I almost forgot," he said and handed Joey a belt. "Keep the Poké Ball on this belt. Easier to get to, just in case you have your first battle today."

Joey set out down Route 30, a peaceful road that cut through a dense wood with a few shimmering ponds along the way. Parcels of tall grass dotted the roadside, hiding other Pokémon that chirped and squeaked as he passed. Joey raked his hands over the grass and the spiky tips tickled his palm. He had made this trip before, but never with his own Pokémon. Surely he would find a battle—there had to be other trainers out.

He came to a fork where the route would either take him through more swaths of dew-dappled grass or over a small ledge where he could get a view of the road ahead. He chose the way toward the ledge and stopped above it to scan the route for other people headed north. If only he had a bike, then he could jump ledges like this one and make his trip go by even faster. But his family had a hard enough time affording new clothes, let alone a shiny new bike. Not everyone could be so well-off but at least he was fortunate to finally have his own Pokémon. His best friend Mikey didn't even have a Pokémon yet.

Before he scrambled down the ledge, he saw the head of another boy bobbing through the tall grass, about a quarter-mile away. Joey's heart thumped. A challenger was coming! And in his haste to get down from the ledge, he frightened a Pidgey nesting nearby. The tiny bird flapped off its perch kicking up a small Gust.

He reached for the Poké Ball on his belt.

The Pidgey landed on the path to his right and scratched at the dirt.

He stopped himself. No, a simple Pidgey was not going to be his first battle. That boy, whoever he was, would be Joey's first as soon as they met up. The Pidgey cocked its head at him and resumed its scratching.

"You got lucky," Joey said and continued down the route.

He crept along through the grass, straining his ears to listen for the approach of the other boy. He heard him whistling in the distance, unaware of what Joey had planned. They were still a good length from each other, but from where Joey positioned himself, the boy would have to cross his path.

And once they made eye contact, the battle would begin.

As he waited, he practiced a few more grabs for his Poké Ball. Like the cowboys in an American Western, the quickest draw would have the advantage. Then Joey thought about the moves Rattata would use. From what he'd learned about them from his grandfather, they knew Tackle and Tail Whip from the start. Tail Whip was a good move to lower the opponent's Defense and when followed up with a Tackle, Joey was sure to win.

Battling seemed so easy. He must have been a natural.

He looked up suddenly when he heard a thud. It came from beyond the patch of grass in front of him, so he tiptoed forward and parted the grass, expecting to see the boy walking into his trap.

But instead, staring back at him was the blank expression of a green cocoon Pokémon.

A Metapod.

A spindly white string attached to its tail-end ran straight up to the tree branch above. The Metapod must have dropped from the tree to see what was going on. Or maybe it was looking for food. Joey didn't really know what Metapod did, however, and he'd never been interested in Bug Pokémon, but it was a pretty easy target just sitting there …

The Metapod kept staring back, its eyelids halfway closed in some stupor. Was it taunting Joey? Could Metapod learn Taunt?

"You're asking for it," Joey said.

The Metapod continued to watch him in a very nonthreatening manner, which was all the more menacing because it was so casual about it.

Joey narrowed his eyes. "Did you just glare at me?" he asked. He couldn't tell, but it looked like the Metapod was issuing a challenge. He smirked. "I'll show you."

He reached for his belt, grabbed the Poké Ball, and expanded it with the touch of the button.

The Metapod didn't blink.

He felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead. His pulse surged through his hand. His fingers throbbed as they gripped the curves of the Poké Ball.

Rattata waited inside. Could it perceive Joey's apprehension? He thought he felt the ball shake.

Yes, Rattata knew what was about to happen.

Joey let out a sigh and minimized the Poké Ball. This wasn't right. Metapod, like the Pidgey, wasn't going to be his first battle either. Not big enough. Not exciting enough. He put the ball back on his belt and walked around the Metapod. "I'll see you next time," he said.

Further down the route he found a new spot to wait for the boy who was due any second now. He crouched on a boulder above the path, ready to pounce as soon as the trainer arrived. Within a minute or two, he heard the footsteps. The tall grass quivered as someone plowed through it. He saw tufts of black hair sticking from under the boy's hat. The boy finally pushed his way out of the grass, picking seeds off his clothes, when Joey realized who it was.

Gold, that boy from New Bark Town.

Even if Joey hadn't seen his face, he would have recognized him. Gold wore a snazzy red jacket, new shoes, an expensive looking pack stuffed full of gear, and the latest version of the Pokédex clutched in his hand.

"Hey," Joey said and dropped down from the boulder.

Gold stepped back, startled. He shielded the sun from his eyes and when he saw Joey's face, he scoffed. "Oh, it's just you."

"Where are you going?" Joey asked, eying the Pokédex as Gold held it in the air and scanned a Spearow overhead.

"Somewhere important," Gold said and started back on his way north.

"Um, wait," Joey said and hurried after him. "We, uh. We're supposed to—"

"Supposed to what?"

"Battle."

Gold stopped and turned around. He looked Joey up and down and smiled. "You have to have a Pokémon in order to battle," he said. "By the time you get one, I'll probably be at the Blackthorn Gym, winning my last badge." He walked away.

"No, wait!" Joey said. "I-I have a Pokémon. I just got it today. And since we made eye contact, we need to battle. It's the rule."

"You really have one?" Gold asked. "A real Pokémon?"

Joey nodded. "It's in the t-top percentage of Rattata." That wasn't a lie—his grandfather bred the greatest Rattatas in the Pokémon world.

"All right," Gold said and reached for his belt. "You asked for it."

Joey's stomach lurched. It was happening! And he was too slow! Gold already had plucked three Poké Balls from his belt as he decided which one to use. Joey fumbled for his own belt. His sweaty hand got hold of the Poké Ball … and dropped it as he drew his arm back to throw.

Gold laughed and shook his head. "This will be easy," he said. "Go, Totodile!"

Joey fell to his knees and caught the Poké Ball before it rolled away into the grass. A flash of red light appeared in front of him and took the shape of a little blue crocodile.

"Toto-totodile!" it cried.

Joey took a deep breath and said, "Go, Rattata!"

He threw the Pokémon in front of the Totodile and his Rattata jumped out with its tail stiffened.

"Rattata!" it squeaked.

Before Joey could even remember his strategy from earlier, Gold issued his first order. "Totodile, use Leer!" The Totodile sharpened its gaze on Rattata, who froze as its Attack power dropped out of fear. "Now, Scratch!"

Wait, Joey didn't get a turn yet! But it was too late. The Totodile lurched forward and swung a claw across Rattata, sending it sideways.

"You better do something before your rat bites the dust," Gold said.

"Um, Tail Whip!" Joey said once he remembered.

Rattata flipped onto its feet and waved its tail side to side. The Totodile was caught in the trance for a brief moment and its Defense was down, but Joey didn't even have the time to call out his next order because Gold cried, "Snap out of it and use Water Gun!"

The Totodile shook its head free of the trance. "Diiile!" it cried.

There was a move Joey had seen his grandfather use once. His Raticate dodged an oncoming attack at blinding speed and then hit the other Pokémon from behind. It had won him a regional tournament, right before he retired from battling forever. If Joey could think of the name, he might be able to get his Rattata to pull ahead and win this battle.

The Totodile opened its jaws and sprayed a jet of water at Rattata.

What was the name? Quick … quick … attack? Quick Attack! "Rattata," he said, "Hurry, Quick Attack!"

Gold laughed as the stream of water crashed into the puzzled Rattata. The force spiraled Rattata into the air. It crashed on the ground a few feet away and fainted.

The battle was over, just as quickly as it had begun.

"Rattatas don't learn Quick Attack until level seven," Gold said. "By the looks of it, your Rattata is at level zero."

Joey could hardly keep from crying. He knelt down next to his fainted Pokémon and smoothed its wet and matted fur.

Gold shook his head again and recalled his Totodile. "Didn't you say it was in the top percentage?" he asked. "More like top percentage of losers. See ya, kid."

Joey ignored him and picked up his Rattata. He needed to get it to the Pokémon Center in Cherrygrove City immediately. Gold whistled and continued on his way north as Joey started running south as fast as he could. He crashed through the thickets of grass, splashed over puddles, and slid down another ledge, not caring about the cuts and scrapes he was collecting. Just beyond the next hill he saw the red roof of the Pokémon Center between the other buildings. He looked down at his poor Rattata, the Pokémon that his grandfather said was his responsibility to take care of, and his chest tightened a little bit more.

"We're gonna make it," he said. "I promise."

Within a few minutes he came stumbling up to the center. A nurse ran out with her Chansey in tow.

"What happened?" she asked and stooped down to examine Rattata.

"He fainted," Joey said.

The nurse could see the hurt in Joey's eyes. She wiped a tear off his cheek. "Your Rattata will be just fine," she said.

Just hearing the words alone lifted his heart.

"Was it your first battle?" she asked.

Joey nodded. "I tried my best, but I lost."

The nurse gathered Rattata from his arms and they walked to the healing station. "I treated another boy's Pokémon earlier today," she said. "It was his first battle, too. He had a Totodile that was in rough shape."

Joey looked up. "Gold, from New Bark Town?"

"Mmhmm. He had lost against some other boy from New Bark Town and was just as upset as you. I healed his Totodile and they both marched out of here good as new on their way to Route 30."

And then Joey had run into him. Gold was so confident, though, like he'd never lost at anything.

Less than five minutes later, Rattata was back to normal and happily chewing on a carrot as Joey rubbed its ear. Before they left the center, the nurse came back to check on them.

"So, now that you've had your first battle," she said, "are you going to take the Johto League challenge?"

Joey stared at his Rattata and thought about his grandfather, the person he looked up to the most. Raising Rattatas was in Joey's blood. It was the only Pokémon he wanted to train, and that meant he would never get enough badges to compete in the league.

"No," he said to the nurse. "I've got something else in mind. The next time I tell someone my Rattata is in the top percentage, they'll believe me. Just you watch."
 

Th!nkPi

We're hours away from the deadline, so I'll update what's going on for the written submissions. Introducing your judges!

Not Canadian



Despite the name, he is indeed from Canadia Land. Not Canadian is an experienced reader with a particularly impeccable eye for grammar, spelling, and other literary mechanics. He is a reputable member of the Pokémon Showdown! community and a fantastic driver in the Writing room.

XTheElegantShadowX



Known by his way-easier-to-remember nickname, TES, XTheElegantShadowX is an avid poet whose strange passion for murderous themes is only surpassed by his dedication as RO of Writing. He specializes in giving feedback on storyline and character development, as well as critiquing poetry-based entries.

Th!nkPi



That would be me. Hi! *waves* Note: not the same guy as my avatar.

Judging Process

There is no deadline as to when judging must be finished, but I will be spearheading the efforts of trying to accomplish this as fast as possible. All three judges will be scoring all entries. However, individual scores will not be publically posted. Instead, the final scores will be the averaged results of the judges' combined scores. Only the top three results will be publically posted. Additional final scores may be requested after winners are announced. Due to the bulk of entries, we will not constructing in-depth feedback and commentary for each entry. Instead, our first priority will be to give each entry a proper score.

But what if I really want feedback?

Once winners are announced, you may request feedback from any of the judges. However, judges are not obliged to give feedback to every writer who asks (though we strive to help writers as always), and will only do so at their discretion. There are far too many entries for me to ask judges to write out feedback for each one. Please allow judges time to write up commentary when requesting feedback.

But what if I REALLY want feedback and a judge says they aren't available?

Visit the Writing room on Pokémon Showdown! or check out Smeargle's Studio.
 
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Saburo

Saburo

Kaito’s First battle

“Take this dive ball” my mother whispered, as she curled the light blue ball into my hand tears fell down my mother’s cheek lightly splashing onto the ground, they seemed to glitter like diamonds in the cool air, but that was probably just my imagination.
“You will survive.” Her voice faltered.
She seemed to be saying goodbye, but I pushed that thought out of my head. I shook my head.
“Are you alright mom?” I asked “because you do not start crying until we actually get there.” I pointed towards the summit. “Also, why did you give me this to me now?” I said holding up the Pokeball.
She was silent for a long time. The air seemed to grow colder as I saw my mom playing a stare contest with the ground. We only ever visited Mt.Cornet to visit dad’s gravestone, but this time seemed different. Suddenly my mother rose, and walked sluggishly towards the edge of a cliff.
“Mom, what are you doing?” I demanded. I ran towards her, but she turned around and raised her hand.
“Please.” she was trembling. “Please don’t come any closer, Kaito.” She started to sob, her violet eyes were fragile as if I took another step they would shatter, and I stopped.
“I-I don’t understand” I said shaking my head.
“Kaito” she said without meeting my eyes. “I don’t ha-” suddenly the air got warm.
My mother’s eyes fixed on something behind me. I quickly turned around to see fire, fire engulfed the entire summit, but that wasn’t the strangest part. There was an orb of fire like a force field, and inside were three shadows that I couldn’t make out. The shadow in the middle then raised its hand into the air”
“Rawwrrr”
A new shadow emerged from behind them. It jumped out of the orb of fire and landed right in front of the shadowy figures, the fire dispersed. Standing there were two guys dressed in crimson armor, they seemed to be body guards for their leader, Rekka. She was dressed in flawless white armor with the marks of their clan. A smirk curled on the corner of her mouth.
“Heatran!” she yelled as she raised her hand into the air, and then pointed towards me “Eruption!”

Time seemed to slow down as hundreds of fiery stones hurled towards us. I only had time to put my hands in front of my face (like that was going to help) when I heard a THUNK! I looked to see my mother standing in front of me, but in front of her was beautiful blue Pokemon with white diamond-shaped spots with a unmatched purple mane. I stumbled back until I hit something hard.
“T-that is a Su-”
“Suicune, yes” my mother finished.
“WHAT?” I yelled
“No time to explain Kaito, please go. Find someplace safe”
I was about to protest when I was pushed back by an explosion. Everything was upside down. I couldn’t tell where I was or if I was even alive. I sat up, my head still spun. I still had the dive ball in my hands. I don’t know if it was the concussion to my head or what, but I heard a voice from within the Pokeball. It sounded like it was saying “cook out” I lifted the Pokeball to eye level.
“Hello?” I asked
suddenly a shadow loomed over me.
“Why hello, Kaito”
I turned around to see Rekka. Her snake like eyes fixated on me, paralyzing me. She jumped into the crater.
“Your mother is a fool” she said with distaste. She took out a regular Pokeball. “Show me why I should not kill you.” She threw the Pokeball, and a red Pokemon with a yellow flame shape on its body, a Magby.
I did not even have time to react to what just happened, Rekka insulting my mother and then challenging me to a battle deciding whether to kill me or not. All I could do was stand up and stare right into Rekka’s snake eyes.
“No one insults my mother” I threw the diveball, and a light blue and black fish appeared from the glowing white light. It flopped onto the floor begging for water.
“HAHA” Rekka bellowed. “A finneon? How pathetic, without water I do not even need to..”
Suddenly the Finneon rose. It began to glow
“Uhh, do all Finneons do that?” I said in awe.
Rekka’s face was priceless.
“No matter, I’ll crush you” she growled. “Magby, use thunder punch” The Magy’s fist starting to form blue sparks around it. With amazing speed, it darted towards the floating Finneon.
I did not know how I did it, but I managed to react.
“Finneon, bounce!” I said which sounded ridiculous because it was a flyting finneon.
But the Finneon flew into the air dodging the incoming thunder punch.
“Magby, fire spin” the Magby let out a vortex of fire engulfing the Finneon.
I started to panic, but I managed to remain calm. It was like someone was whispering everything into my ears, guiding me.
“Finneon, use rain dance” storm clouds appeared out of nowhere and poured down rain, the fire evaporated.
“Magby, hidden power now”
“Use Surf Finneon”
The two powers clashed into a bright light. Finneon was still in the air, but I could not see the Magby. Suddenly the Magby jumped through the light into the air in front of Finneon.
“Thunder punch Magby!” The Magby’s fist glowed with sparks again, but this time it seemed to be drawing power form the storm clouds. It connected with Finneon’s body causing it to fly towards the ground.
“Noooo” I yelled, but something caught my eye. Finneon was behind Magby still up in the air. Then it clicked, Finneon managed to use a substitute without me giving the order.
“Finneon, Use surf!”
Water plunged onto the Magby’s body which steamed on contact. It crashed, and it was down. Rekka stepped forward returning her Pokemon to her Pokeball.
“Well done” she said.
Then a white light appeared out of nowhere leaving me and my floating Finneon alone. I ran back to find my mother, but she was gone. A spotted a note near the cliff, I picked it up. I now understood why she did all this. I dropped the note, and jumped off the cliff. To be continued….
 

EV

Banned deucer.
Now that The Player is off the ground, wouldn't it be cool to have a spotlight in the zine with these types of contests? Th!nkPi if you or other Writing Room owners (and the Art Room owners) could snag a spot that would be sweet! Instead of 2 pages of entries, think about 10 pages...
 
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