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Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.

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Old 08-09-2005, 07:53 PM
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Default The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Well, as the last revision I posted here never went to far and I've started a new one, I just decided to make a new thread...

This piece is rated PG-13 for the most part for violence, blood and mild swearing, and may go up to R later on.


Two shiny sapphire-blue eyes open weakly, reflecting the eerily orange clouds high above. A roar of thunder sounds with a bright flash of lightning.

The eyes blink slowly, curiously; two small paws feel the damp soil and are raised into the owner’s line of vision. Their fine pale pink fur is stained with red.

Another curious blink as the creature tilts its head slightly. Then all of a sudden, it seems to realize something; it quickly gets up on its large hind legs to look around.

Dead and dying humans are sprawled on the ground with expressions of terror frozen on their faces. Pokémon lie blood-stained in front of their trainers’ bodies, having died in their feeble attempts to protect the humans they had sworn loyalty to.

And right next to the creature lies a large, somewhat humanoid Pokémon, its leathery gray skin bruised and its powerful violet tail covered with slashes.

The creature looks sadly at the stab wound through the Pokémon’s heart and then up to its limp, catlike head. A blank expression crosses its face as it observes the facial features.

All of a sudden, the creature’s triangular ears perk up as its eyes scan the area carefully. Ignoring the horror all around, it locks its gaze onto a spot close by. It takes silent, wingless flight, using its thin tail for balance.

The creature hangs its head mournfully when it arrives next to the remains of a black pardus-like Pokémon’s head. Wavy markings and spikes on its sides glow with a bright alien green color through the crust of dried blood; its right eye has been torn apart while the left is missing.

The green glow of the head’s markings fades into a sapphire blue color, similar to that of the pink creature’s tear-filled eyes.

Is this… is it my work?

The lifeless town knows no answer.

Last edited by Dragonfree; 08-10-2005 at 08:05 AM.
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Old 08-10-2005, 04:35 AM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Nice description especially as how you described Mew's flight. Although it is a Prologue you could have made it a paragraph or two bigger... I see no mistakes in the grammer spelling either. Also you could put a PG raating since it envolves blood a bit and according to your fic' in pokčcommunity swearing. Of course that if you haven't cut it out.

Well, hope ya' finish it.


Last edited by dragon lover; 08-10-2005 at 04:39 AM.
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Old 10-02-2005, 01:04 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Since PE2K is finally back up...

Chapter 1: Ultimatum

The gentle breeze swayed the branches outside. The sunny, green streets of Sailance couldn’t possibly have looked more tempting. Well, maybe if there had been a stray Taillow singing there somewhere. Or a Rattata darting behind that dustbin.

“Mark Greenlet, will you please answer my question?”

The dark-haired boy slowly looked up from his drawing with a blank look on his pale face.

“Er… I’m sorry?”

The woman sighed, scribbling something into her notebook. Probably something negative about his lack of attention in class if he knew her correctly.

She observed him over her half-circle glasses, her mouth forming into a frown. “I asked you to explain what defines recoil attacks.”

Mark sighed, looking up at her. “I have no clue, okay?”

The teacher sighed again. “You seem to fail to answer even the simplest of questions, Mr. Greenlet.”


“Don’t speak to me like that or I’ll give you detention.”

Mark rolled his eyes. Yeah right. That’s just the 500th time you say that.

“Now stop drawing your Fearow and start paying some attention.”

“It’s a Lugia,” Mark corrected quietly, covering the smudged drawing on his desk protectively with his hand. A warning alarm sounded in his head. Don’t lose yourself again… school is almost over… Mrs. Grodski is just a bad teacher…

Luckily, the bell rang at just the right moment, saving him. He hurriedly started returning his unopened books to the battered schoolbag that hung on the back of his chair.

“Mr. Greenlet,” the teacher said, “I would like you to remain here.”

Mark sank back into his chair. He silently placed his drawing inside his thick binder and sighed deeply as he packed it down and forced back the zipper on his stuffed bag. Through the glass in the window, he could see that the wind was growing nastier.

“So,” said Mrs. Grodski, closing the door after the last student left, “what do you have to say for yourself, Mr. Greenlet?”

Mark opened his mouth unsurely, not sure if he’d be better off just keeping quiet, but decided to fire away.

“Why do I even need Battling class?” he blurted out. “I’m not being let out on a Pokémon journey. There aren’t even any Pokémon around this stupid city.”

“Have you ever considered,” said the woman, narrowing her eyes, “that perhaps failing the class last year played a part in your parents’ decision?”

“They decided it months before the tests!” Mark protested, his face reddening slightly. Mrs. Grodski just loved to bring up his D from the finals last year; it was one of the many reasons he hated her.

“Oh, don’t try to fool yourself,” she said calmly, sitting down at the teacher’s desk. “The tests aren’t the only part. All you’ve done in my class since you first started it is doodling on the back of your papers and being an idiot. Your parents have known that since the first time I talked to them about you.”

“They… they said it was because it was too dangerous,” he said uncertainly, fearing that he might be losing the argument. Outside, the shadow of a cloud drifted past the sun. He was missing the nice weather from earlier, all because of one stupid teacher.

“As clearly ignorant as you are, I wouldn’t trust you to go on a Pokémon journey without getting yourself killed either,” she said in a silky voice, a thin smile on her lips.

Mark’s face turned beet red as he clenched his fist. He hated being insulted.

“I get good grades in Pokémon speech,” he countered. “And Art.”

“I never approved of Pokémon speech as a school subject,” Mrs. Grodski said. “They weren’t teaching that back when I was at school, and I did fine as a trainer without trying to assign a meaning to all those Pika Pikas.”

Mark folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. He liked Pokémon speech; Mr. Flintlake’s Vulpix was usually a great deal more interesting than any human person he had met. Apart from Alex, of course, but he had left on his journey last year.

“As for Art,” the teacher continued when Mark didn’t say anything, “drawing will hardly help you on a Pokémon journey, will it?” She gave him another thin smile.

Mark just sighed.

“Now, what did your parents tell you last time?” Mrs. Grodski said, leaning forward and looking at him with her stinging blue eyes.

“That I’d have to be in class with younger kids again if I didn’t pass this time,” Mark mumbled.

“Exactly,” she said, examining the blood red nail polish on her long fingernails. “I suggest you start putting some effort into your studying now, and I might actually change my mind about your IQ. You can leave now if you promise me that.”

“I promise,” Mark muttered.

“Good,” Mrs. Grodski said with a poisonous smile. “You may go.”

Mark stood up, slung the schoolbag over his shoulder and left the room without saying a word. Outside, the sky was slowly becoming all gray and gloomy, matching his mood.

By the time he reached his house, it was starting to rain.

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Old 12-28-2005, 07:35 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Hmm, this thread needs some chapter two. It appears I forgot about it after posting the first...

Chapter 2: The Lost Pokémon

Mark poked his potatoes with his fork, wondering whether to tell his parents about today’s incident or just to wait until they found out. He was saved from making this decision when his parents appeared to notice his lack of appetite. They looked at each other, a tall blonde and a short, dark-haired man, remarkably similar when both wearing that expression which Mark knew only too well.

“Mark,” said his mother, putting down her knife, “did something happen at school today?”

He looked up. “Well, I had Battling class.”


She leant slightly forward and brushed her long hair from her ears. This meant, as Mark had learned through the years, ‘Resistance is futile. Speak out or I’ll sigh and look at you with an annoying parent expression.’

“Mrs. Grodski told me off,” he said shortly.

“For what?”

He closed his eyes painfully. “For saying ‘whatever’.”

“In what context?”

Detective Mom on the case. Mark sighed before continuing.

“She asked me a question, I didn’t know the answer, and she started going all ‘Oh, you’re so hopeless! You can never answer questions! You’re going to fail! You’re blah blah blah blah blah!’” Mark imitated in the screechiest voice he could manage.

His mom smiled in that annoying parental way that said, ‘I always side with the teacher because she is an adult and adults always know better no matter what they’re saying.’

“You really should try to do well this year, dear…”

Mark sighed again and rolled his eyes. “I’ll try – if Mrs. Grodski doesn’t finish me off before the exams, that is.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad,” she said.

“She hates me,” Mark grumbled, folding his arms.

“She doesn’t hate you,” his mom said reassuringly. “She may not be your favorite teacher, but I’m sure she doesn’t hate you or anybody.”

“She does! I’d know!” Mark shouted across the table.

“Mark…” his father began.

“Goodbye,” Mark said loudly, standing up from his chair and storming towards the door. “Did I mention I hate you too?”

As Mark slammed the door behind him, he discovered two things. One: he had completely forgotten that it was raining and was greeted by the nasty feeling of his socks getting soaked with water. Two: there was an unconscious Charmander lying in the middle of the street.

Mark’s frustration at discovery number one was replaced by the funny feeling of having landed himself in an extremely cliché situation that was like cut out of Ash Ketchum’s biography; of course, the next thing that came to mind was: What the hell is a Pokémon doing here?

From his Geography class, Mark just knew that for unknown reasons, something about North-West Ouen had creepy effects on Pokémon. No wild ones had lived there for as long as anybody could remember, and if Pokémon were brought there by trainers, they seemed to get unnaturally exhausted and weak after a few days. Sailance, Mark’s hometown, was in the very corner and stereotyped as a haven for Poképhobes; why a Charmander would have come there of all places was even more puzzling than why it was outside in this kind of rain at all.

The sound of a car snapped Mark back to the real world; whatever reason could be for this Charmander being there, it would certainly get run over if it wasn’t brought off the road, and even then, the tail flame that the little lizard’s life depended on had been reduced to less than a candlelight.

He ran into the street to pick up the Charmander’s limp body. Taking it towards the house, he stroked the warm, orange scales and vaguely remembered pointing at a Charmander in a picture book when he was little to announce to his parents that he was going to pick it when he became a trainer. Now Mark wasn’t as fond of the traditional starter Pokémon although he still liked Fire types; he would have picked a Vulpix or Growlithe if he had gotten to become a trainer last year.

Opening the door with his right hand while securing the Charmander in his left, he stepped back into the house.

“I thought you hated us?” his mother said smugly, her back turned to the door as she ate; he could nonetheless imagine the expression on her face.

“Whatever… I love you again…” he said quickly in order to get to the point. “Mom… Dad… there’s a Charmander… it was outside…”

His mother looked over her shoulder with a blank expression; her eyes moved slowly from Mark’s soaked clothes to the lizard Pokémon in his arms. She let out a shriek as she jumped out of the chair. Mark’s father hastily came around the dinner table to see; his mouth fell open under the black mustache.

Rolling his eyes at his parents’ reactions, Mark started fanning the Charmander’s tail with his hand; he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Whether because of his efforts or simply because it was warm inside, the fire was restored within long. Breathing in relief, Mark shook his exhausted arm.

His mom looked shortly at the window; the street view was still blurred by a thick sheet of rain.

“I guess we will have to keep it inside for the night,” she said unsurely, biting her lip.

“I think it’s a he, Mom,” Mark said, pointing between the lizard’s legs.

“Oh, yes, of course,” his mother said, blushing slightly.

“He’ll have to sleep in something flame-proof, too,” he said, glancing at the fire that now burned peacefully on the Charmander’s tail tip. His mom hurried up the stairs to the kitchen.

“Mark,” his father said suddenly, speaking for the first time since Mark came back inside, “where did you find him exactly?”

Mark shrugged. “On the road just outside our house.”

“You are aware that this is the last place a wild Charmander would go to when it’s raining?”

Mark sighed. “Yeah.”

He knew that a trainer was probably out there looking for his Charmander; the excitement of finding a Pokémon right outside his house had just somehow made Mark feel like his life had changed forever.

“We’ll go online tomorrow and check if a trainer has reported a lost Charmander,” said Mark’s father decisively as his wife returned from the kitchen, holding a large pot. She looked questioningly at Mark.

“That should work,” he said, shrugging as he took the pot. “It’s got to be a bit uncomfortable to sleep in, but we can’t have him burn down the house.”

“Why don’t you just take him into your room and read or something, just to keep an eye on him?” his mom suggested, noticeably worried by the thought of the house burning down. “I need to talk to your father a bit, too.”

Mark eyed his parents suspiciously as they walked up the stairs, but decided that watching the Charmander was more important than listening in to conversations and carried the pot with the unconscious Pokémon into his room. Setting it down beside his bed, Mark picked up a book about legendary Pokémon that his parents had given him, and sat down on his pillow.

Secretly hoping that the trainer would take a while to find, he sank himself into the legend of Vaxil and the Color Dragons, which he almost knew by heart.

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Old 12-30-2005, 02:32 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Chapter 3: The Test


“Not now,” Mark mumbled, half-asleep. A second passed before he bolted upwards and looked down into the pot below his bed. His face broke into a smile as he saw the Charmander poking the bed curiously.

“You’re alive!”

Mark quickly got out of bed. One of the first lessons of Pokémon Speech popped up in his head: When greeting a smaller Pokémon, it is polite not to force the Pokémon to look up at you.

He knelt down so that his eyes were nearly on level with Charmander’s; the Pokémon’s deep brown eyes looked back into his green ones.

Pokémon do not have names. When only one member of their species is present, a stranger Pokémon will prefer to be addressed by the species’ name.

“Er… good morning, Charmander,” he said hesitatingly. The Pokémon smiled; Mark had the feeling it was a bit obvious he was following instructions from a textbook.

“Char Charmander.”

Pokémon speech was so weird. Mark was thankful he was rather good at detecting the crucial tone changes; that had been something like “Good morning to you too.”


“Mander Char?” Charmander asked.

Where am I. Mark’s heart was beating; he could picture himself understanding every word easily with some practice.

“You’re in my room. You fainted on the road in front of my house when it was raining yesterday.”

The lizard Pokémon put up a puzzled look. “I did?”

Mark nodded. Charmander seemed to be trying to remember something.

“Oh, right,” the lizard finally muttered. “The rain…”

“What were you doing out there, anyway?”

Charmander sighed. “Well, my trainer… the boy I was given to… he tricked some girl into trading her Quilava for me, and she got so angry when she found out what level I was that she tossed my Pokéball to the ground and ran after my trainer. So I just walked off in a random direction.”

“Oh.” There were a few seconds of silence. “So were you looking for your trainer when you came here?” Mark then asked.

Charmander shrugged. “Not really. My old trainer wasn’t very good. He never let me out of the Pokéball.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “He must’ve been a jerk.”

“Well, you don’t really sense time in the ball,” Charmander replied, shrugging again. “When you’re sent out, you have no idea how long you’ve been there. It’s all dreamy and stuff.” He paused. “Pokéballs aren’t that bad, really – but the first thing he felt like doing with me was tricking a random girl into trading over a stronger Pokémon. Kinda depressing.”

Mark nodded. “I can imagine.”

“But anyway,” Charmander said, changing the subject, “you don’t happen to have anything to eat, do you?”


“That girl isn’t looking for you, is she?” Mark asked, munching on his cornflakes. Charmander, while eating some minced meat that Mark had dug out of the fridge, shook his head.

“Doubt it,” he said after swallowing. “After all, she just threw me away.”

Mark nodded.

“Besides,” Charmander added, “I kinda hope she’s not looking for me. She didn’t really seem very nice either.”

“Well, if she is looking for you, you have a right to leave her if you don’t like her.”

Charmander nodded absent-mindedly; this was indeed a right which Pokémon officially had, but they very rarely used it. Some species of wild Pokémon simply knew nothing of their rights concerning trainers because they lived in isolated areas and generally just despised the idea of mixing with other species, including humans. When they were caught, they actually often attacked or killed their trainers to escape as soon as they were sent out of the Pokéball. Many trainers simply didn’t think much about Pokémon rights and didn’t give their Pokémon any opportunity to leave. And most dissatisfied Pokémon who knew they could leave their trainers just endured it, either because they gave being trained to high levels a higher priority than what their trainer was like, or because they just didn’t think their problems with their trainers were worth leaving them for. Some also just preferred to follow the tradition and considered themselves obliged to serve any trainer strong enough to capture them.

Meanwhile, Mark was having a very frustrating inner debate. A part of him was yelling out, hey, just grab that Charmander, run away from home and become a trainer, while another part said, wait, wait, wait, you can’t just kidnap a Pokémon and make yourself a trainer when you feel like it. Then those two parts agreed on the solution of asking Charmander about his opinion, but then his manners started crying out that it was extremely rude to be planning out Charmander’s future behind his back. Finally, Mark’s mouth decided to save him from insanity by acting a bit on its own accord.

“What are you planning to do now?”

Charmander turned around. “Find some other Charmander, I guess.” He paused. “Well, if there are any wild Charmander around here, that is.”

Mark thought for a bit, trying to remember some of his Geography lessons. “No,” he said finally. “The only place in Ouen where they live wild is Champion Island, and I don’t expect you to be able to swim over there.”

Charmander sighed. “Well, then I’ll have to do something else. At least find somewhere to go while it’s raining.” He shivered.

“Erm… do you plan on getting caught again?” Mark asked without really thinking about what the heck he was saying.

“Maybe,” Charmander answered, shrugging. “I don’t want another trainer who would just stuff me in a ball and trade me for a stronger Pokémon, though.”

“If I…” Mark began, “would you… like… oh, forget it…” He sensed himself blushing, feeling very stupid.

“Erm… what?” Charmander asked confusedly.

Mark looked down. “I just really want to be a Pokémon trainer,” he muttered. “My parents won’t let me.”

“Oh,” Charmander said blankly. “Well, who knows. They might let you sometime in the future.”

Mark sighed. “Well, I was hoping I could become a trainer if I did well on the finals this year, but they’re in just a few days and I still don’t know a first thing in Battling.”

“You can learn,” Charmander said reassuringly. “Maybe you’ll pass if you read well now.”

Mark took a deep breath. “Right.”


There was a light knock on the door. Mark looked out of Officially Defined Pokémon Attacks, a huge book that could make a Metapod die of boredom, to see his mother open the door slightly to look inside.

“I’m reading, Mom,” Mark mumbled, turning back to the textbook.

“Oh,” his mom replied, seeming slightly taken aback. “Well, there are no lost Charmander reported, but your father and I have decided that it’s best to check again tomorrow – if the Charmander is okay with staying another night here, that is.”

“Mander,” Charmander said. He was sitting beside Mark on his bed.

“He says it’s fine,” Mark translated quickly without looking out of the book.

“Well… I’ll let you read, then,” she replied, giving him an odd look while closing the door. As soon as she was gone, Mark cracked up in laughter.

“Did you see her face when she saw that I was studying? She must think Hell has frozen over.”


Mark worked hard over the next few days, studying desperately to pass his Battling test while getting decently through the rest. Meanwhile, he became friends with Charmander, who had still not been reported as lost and was still staying at Mark’s home. The Pokémon’s company helped him survive the dreadfully boring schoolbooks. He had still not told Charmander what he was secretly hoping for – that Charmander would come with him on a journey – and his conscience kept nagging him about it, but he always fended the thought away, convincing himself that he’d do it later.

What worried him more was that Charmander was all but immune to the mysterious effect that North-West Ouen had on Pokémon. The lizard seemed to be too polite to complain, but it was hard not to notice the fact that he was growing weaker with every day. Mark’s parents saw it too; they exchanged looks every time they eyed the slightly dazed Pokémon. It was clear that they would send Charmander away soon if he was not reported as lost. Mark had to do something soon if his dream was ever to come true.


The alarm in Mark’s digital watch went off with a loud beeping. His hand blindly reached for it on his bedside table; as he found the button, he silenced it. He took a deep breath. It was exam day.

Rolling onto his side and rubbing his eyes, he looked into Charmander’s pot, where the lizard was curled up, fast asleep.


He shook the Pokémon gently with his hand, but Charmander was still fast asleep. A cold shiver ran down Mark’s spine as another attempt failed to wake the lizard up.

Calm down… the Effect is not fatal…

He shot a few more glances at Charmander to see if he moved; he didn’t. Mark had no choice but to go to the exam and hope Charmander would be better when he came back.

In his mind he was already thinking up a plan.



Mark was jumped; Mrs. Grodski had tapped his shoulder when handing him the exam paper.

“Yes, Mrs. Grodski?”

“I’ve got to say I never expected you to take what I said last time seriously. And even if you did, I wasn’t sure you were capable of paying attention.”

“Well, I am,” Mark said shortly. “Surprised?”

“Yes, if that’s how you’d like to put it,” Mrs. Grodski replied, eyeing him with slight suspicion while walking away from his desk. He grimaced at her as she turned around and then shifted his attention to the test.

1. Identify Beedrill’s signature move and briefly describe its effects. (2)

Mark stared at the question, feeling exactly as clueless as that fateful day when he found Charmander. Beedrill, Beedrill… Pin Missile? Darn, why did they ask about Pokémon that ordinary people would rather keep as far away from them as possible?

He sighed and started writing down the first answer he could think of.

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Old 12-30-2005, 02:33 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

An hour later, Mark returned the test. He was sure he had been rubbish; nonetheless he couldn’t help feeling he had probably done a bit better than last year – then he had been so blank he hadn’t even been able to fill in half of the exam.

He hurried back home. The results would arrive tomorrow after the school’s Porygon had gone over the tests; only questionable things were ever brought before Mrs. Grodski (which was lucky, Mark thought; otherwise she would have marked everything wrong on his test for some nitpicky reasons).

When he entered the house, his mom and dad were in the doorway to his room, apparently watching Charmander. Mark rushed past them; the orange lizard was still fast asleep in the pot, just like this morning.

Mark’s dad sighed. “I wonder if Pokémon can get used to this?”

“Of course not!” Mark said loudly.

“Eh, how did the test go?” asked his mother quickly to change the subject.

“Better than last year…”

Mark started shaking Charmander again to wake him up. With great effort, the Pokémon opened an eye.

“I’m fine, really…”

Then the lizard fell back to sleep.

“We have to do something,” Mark said, putting the last pieces of his plan in place in his head.

His mom sighed. “We know,” she said. “If still nobody is looking for him tomorrow, we’ll take him to Cleanwater where there are wild Pokémon.”

“There are no wild Charmander there,” Mark pointed out. “Unless we’re going to head to Champion Island…”

“We’ll figure something out,” his father just said. That was exactly the answer Mark had been hoping for.


Mark woke up early next morning. His plan was the first thing to pop up in his mind; nervously, he sat up and dressed, watching the sleeping Charmander.

“Hopefully,” he said quietly, knowing that Charmander couldn’t hear him, “we will be walking out of this dratted city later today.”

And with that, he went out of the room in his pajamas, tiptoed to the front door and looked through the mail lying on the doormat – it didn’t take long for him to find the brown envelope addressed to him with the school’s logo stamped on the top right corner. His hands shaking, he opened it; he took a deep breath as he pulled out his test results.

He skimmed past the other subjects; he had passed them all. Then…

Battling: 7/10

His face broke into a smile. I did it! I passed the stupid Battling!

Grinning from ear to ear, he ran towards his parents’ bedroom with the piece of paper. “Mom! Dad! I passed Battling!”

The door opened just as he reached it; his parents had apparently woken up around the same time as he had.

“See? I passed!”

Mark waved the paper in his father’s face; he took it and skimmed over it. His expression brightened slightly; he handed the results to his wife and ruffled Mark’s hair.

“I knew you could do it.”

His mom came and hugged him. “See? You can do anything when you really try, dear…”

“Now,” Mark interrupted, his heart beating, “we need to do something about Charmander.”

“Right,” said his dad, taking a deep breath. “I looked online earlier. There is still no trainer looking for a Charmander. However…”

“I have an idea,” Mark broke in. “If I were a trainer, I’d be able to take him…”

His father sighed. “Not this discussion again, Mark.”

“I passed my Battling class!” Mark argued. “You say it’s dangerous, but tons of kids go on a Pokémon journey every year and nothing happens to them! Why would I get myself killed?”

His parents exchanged looks. His mom whispered something in his dad’s ear; he nodded and whispered something back. Then finally –

“All right, you can go.”

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Old 01-05-2006, 11:39 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

First extra of this version.

Extras are basically little one-shots, often in a way flashbacks, that are not essential to the storyline but might clear things from the chapter up a bit better.

Chapter 3 Extra: Pokémon Speech

“Good morning, children,” said a chubby, middle-aged man cheerfully as he walked into the classroom. He was met by a chorus of children’s voices, returning his greeting; however, it was quickly silenced as the class caught sight of the reddish brown, fox-like creature that came after him, majestically holding its six curled tails into the air.

“My name is Darius Flintlake,” the man announced, looking around the teacher’s desk he was standing behind. Finding a piece of chalk, he wrote his name on the blackboard.

“And this here is Vulpix,” he said as the fox jumped onto the desk and sat down. “He will be teaching you much more than I will this year.”

A nervous hand was raised into the air in the back of the room.

“Yes?” the teacher said kindly, taking off his circular glasses to clean them with a handkerchief.

“Sir… how can you have a Pokémon in Sailance?” said a small girl’s nervous voice. “Isn’t Vulpix affected by the… the Effect?”

Mr. Flintlake gave the girl a smile as he put his glasses back on. “Ah,” he said, “you’re an attentive one. We live in Cleanwater City, you see, and teach all our classes on Wednesdays, so that Vulpix only needs to come within the area for one day a week. That way, he is barely affected at all. But if he stayed for a while at a time, he would, like any other Pokémon, be weakened severely by the Effect.”

He looked around the classroom; all the students were watching Vulpix cleaning himself with his tongue. After making sure there were no more questions, he cleared his throat to get the class’s attention again.

“Now,” he started, “we are here to teach you Pokémon speech. It is a language; however, it is different from all other foreign languages in that you will only need to learn to understand it, not how to speak it yourselves. Vulpix is right now listening to me and understands every word.”

“Pix,” the fox confirmed.

“Additionally,” Mr. Flintlake continued, looking over his glasses at the kids, “Pokémon speech is not structured like English or any other human language. As you might know, Pokémon speech normally consists of certain syllables exclusive to each species of Pokémon. Those species have later been named after the syllables that they use for their speech.”

“Vulpix,” Vulpix said, nodding.

“Despite this, all Pokémon species can easily communicate with each other. This made it clear, even before real research on Pokémon speech started, that the names themselves don’t matter; a Pokémon doesn’t care whether the word is ‘Pika’ or ‘Nido’.

“Therefore, Pokémon speech brings bodily language and vocal tones to important use. The stress matters, the length of the word matters; it may even matter which syllable of the species’ name the Pokémon is saying. This is what makes Pokémon speech difficult to learn.”

He looked around the class again; some of the children were looking nervously at each other.

“Technically,” the teacher went on, “you will get away with not having learned any Pokémon speech. Most of the more important things your Pokémon might say to you are rather easy to understand. However, most veteran trainers of today agree that they have often been in a situation where they wished they actually knew the language of their Pokémon.

“Of course, the only way to get good at Pokémon speech is to practice it, to regularly have real conversations with real Pokémon. That is why Vulpix here is so important.”

Mr. Flintlake gave a nod towards the fox Pokémon.

“Now, this class does not only teach the language, but everything concerning communication with Pokémon; therefore it is best to start with some basic rules of greeting a Pokémon.”

He walked around the desk to face his Pokémon; even though Vulpix was on top of the desk, the man stood considerably taller than the fox Pokémon.

“Pokémon’s battling instincts are very important to consider when talking to a Pokémon,” he warned, turning his head towards the kids. “When you meet somebody in the street, it is not your first reaction to assume they’re likely to attack you. For Pokémon, it is. Their instincts tell them to run when they meet a stranger much larger than them. When you greet a small Pokémon, the Pokémon knows very well that you’re not about to attack, but due to its instincts, it will not feel comfortable while you tower over it. Therefore, it is common courtesy when starting a conversation with a smaller Pokémon to bring your eyes as close to the Pokémon’s eye level as possible.”

After finishing this speech, he bent down until his eyes were on level with Vulpix’s.

“As soon as you’re in a conversation, you should be able to stand fully up again if you wish so. If you have talked to the Pokémon before, you will also not need to do this. But now we touch on the start of the conversation itself. Remember this: Pokémon don’t have names.”

Some of the kids looked at each other, seemingly puzzled.

“This is, of course, because names as we humans know them don’t quite work with Pokémon speech and culture. Instead, a Pokémon will be perfectly fine with simply being addressed by the name of its species, provided that there are no other Pokémon of the same species in the vicinity that could cause confusion; hence Vulpix just being Vulpix.”

Vulpix nodded.

“However, when there are more of the same species around, that complicates matters. Pokémon solve that with nicknames. Not quite names like we use; we have one certain name which just is our name. Pokémon, on the other hand, address strangers as simply the name of the species, and the ones they know by some kind of a word that has been given special emphasis that we call the name identifier.”

He wrote ‘name identifier’ on the blackboard and underlined it twice.

“Not everybody necessarily uses the same nickname for the same Pokémon; they consider it more important that the same Pokémon does not call two others by the same nickname. If you like to keep things simple and aren’t usually around more Pokémon of the same species, you can also just keep calling it by the species’ name; it won’t mind. As long as the nickname does not have an insulting meaning, the Pokémon doesn’t care what you call it; provided that it knows what name you use for it, of course.

“This means you don’t ask a Pokémon its name when meeting it, nor do you need to tell yours. The Pokémon will assign a nickname to you, like it would to a Pokémon, when it starts to consider you somebody it knows. Almost all Pokémon call their trainers simply ‘Trainer’ with the name identifier. Vulpix, what is my name?”

“Pix Vulpix,” Vulpix said. Mr. Flintlake turned back to the class.

“You do not need to think of it as what it actually is. If I were to translate what Vulpix just said, I would translate it to ‘Darius’, not ‘Trainer’. Vulpix cannot actually say ‘Darius’; his vocal chords are simply not able to make the sounds. There are known examples of Pokémon learning to produce different sounds and speak like a human, but that usually costs the Pokémon years of practicing and very few ever feel inclined to try, especially now that humans have gained an insight into their language. There is nobody else that Vulpix calls ‘Pix Vulpix’; therefore it is no less my name than Darius.”

The teacher smiled slightly as he saw that every child in the classroom was paying full attention. Then the bell rang, and within seconds the classroom was filled with the sound of chairs being moved.

“Read chapter one of the book for next class!” he shouted over the noise. “I’ll see you next week, kids!”

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Old 01-06-2006, 07:20 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

I always find it neat when I find people from other forums on here. I just do. :)

I am glad you posted this here, Dragonfree! I haven't been reading it on Serebii, but I think I shall now. This is a very nice story, and I am enjoying it immensely. Keep up the good work!

Banner by me. Image used in banner by sakimichan on subeta. Character is mine. =3

Yoru Ryu ~ Rar-roX

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Old 04-07-2006, 08:43 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Chapter 4: Another Pokémon on the Road

Mark still couldn’t believe how easy it had been. Even though he had been hoping his plan would work, he hadn’t really expected it to; every other time he had tried to convince his parents to let him become a trainer, he had failed miserably.

Asking why they hadn’t let him become a trainer earlier only made them mumble something about him being older now, but it sounded like it was just the first excuse they could think of. Maybe they just wanted to get rid of Charmander and Mark and would throw a party when they were gone. Or they had just finally realized that all kids should get the opportunity to train Pokémon, but didn’t want to admit it.

He was busy stuffing things into his schoolbag and couldn’t believe how people had survived before compression technology for inanimate objects was invented. In a similar fashion to Pokéballs, the small, light boxes he was stacking in the bag actually contained something much bigger and heavier that could be restored to its original size at the press of a button – clearly much more convenient than the old stuffed, heavy backpacks that had once been jokingly referred to as the most difficult part of a Pokémon journey.

“I think I’ve got everything, Mom,” he called as he packed the minimized sleeping bag.

“Good,” she said as she came into the room. “Mark, here is some money for a Pokédex – I hear you can somehow use them to pay for things directly from your bank account. I’m not really into that, but we’ll be putting a bit of money on your account from time to time. Don’t spend too much, though, dear.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Mark said, taking the money and stuffing it into his pocket. “I think I’m ready now.” He glanced at Charmander, who was lying weakly on the floor beside him.

Mark’s mother took a deep breath. “Well, good luck, then, sweetie. Don’t get yourself into too much trouble.”

“I won’t, Mom,” Mark said with a smile, hoisting the bag onto his shoulders and picking Charmander gently up into his arms.


He turned around as his father walked hurriedly into the room.

“Well…yeah. Have fun, I guess… stay out of trouble… please do… and… good luck,” he said awkwardly before giving Mark a forced pat on the back. Mark’s parents both followed him to the door. His mom hugged him tightly in the doorway.

“Mom…” Mark said in a muffled voice, “I’m suffocating…”

She released him. Her eyes were filled with tears.

“Take care, honey… try to be responsible.”

“I get it already,” Mark said, rolling his eyes. “Bye Dad, bye Mom, I’ll maybe call you sometime…”

He smiled brightly at them and then turned around to walk down the street.

“I won’t get myself killed!” he yelled over his shoulder with a last wave before turning round a corner. Mark’s shout of sheer joy echoed through the neighborhood.

His mother sighed, looking at her husband. “Well… he’s gone.”

He just nodded absent-mindedly, still staring after his son.

“Do you think he’s going to be okay?” she asked quietly.

Mark’s father took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he said. “But after all… we want him to be happy, don’t we?” He looked unsurely at his wife. “And at least… now is better than at the Pokémon Festival.”

“Yes, you’re right, I guess.” She looked down the street that Mark had run down a few seconds before as if expecting him to come back. “Still, we were concerned for a reason.”


Sailance was one of the bigger cities in Ouen – crazy as it seemed to somebody like Mark, there were an awful lot of people out there that cherished the idea of living in a city completely devoid of Pokémon. Because of this (and the fact that he lived on the other side of town), it took him a while to get out of the web of streets spun around the city.

He nonetheless enjoyed his journey. Everything seemed brighter than usual despite the cloudy sky; the white, tall buildings that characterized Sailance seemed whiter, the trees planted in between them seemed greener, and even the usually black streets looked more of a friendly gray. While carrying the unconscious Charmander, Mark looked around and for the first time in a long while really thought the city was somewhat beautiful in its own way. Nothing like the outside world, of course – but not too bad.

As he walked under the huge archway that towered over the exit to the city and out into Route 201, however, this began to change as the lizard in his arms started to stir. It was only then that he first realized what he was doing: he had abused a Pokémon’s unconsciousness to ‘capture’ it and was bringing it along with him without its consent.

Pokémon were not toys. That was a rule that had been hammered thoroughly into every kid’s head from when they first started school. If a Pokémon was lying unconscious somewhere in your path, even if it was a shiny of your super-rare and powerful favorite Pokémon species, you could not catch it. Never catch it. A Pokémon had the right to a battle unless it volunteered to join you. Anything else was a direct violation of the Fifth Agreement of Pokémon Training, you’d get your license removed and your parents would pay a fine. Catching an unconscious Pokémon was bad. Period, end of discussion and so forth.

Mark quickly justified it to himself. He wasn’t taking Charmander by force. He was helping him; heck, he didn’t even have a Pokéball to catch him in. Of course he was only taking him to a more Pokémon-friendly area and would maybe ask casually in Cleanwater City, Hey, Charmander, I was wondering if I could be your new trainer? It would never even slip his mind to try to kidnap Charmander in any way. Never. Of course not.

He walked on south, shrugging those thoughts off. Cleanwater City was around the size of Sailance, and the first Pokémon Gym that most young trainers challenged was located there. What made it even more interesting, especially in Mark’s opinion, was that the Gym used cloned legendary Pokémon. Supposedly the leader had spent many years of his life chasing down legendaries and collecting hairs and feathers of them, which he had then DNA-analyzed and used to create clones. Despite loud protests from just about every respectable Pokémon trainer organization in Ouen, he had been given some sort of official license to continue this practice as long as he kept the clone-legendaries at bay with specially designed Pokéballs which somehow gave the trainer added control over the Pokémon’s actions. It had always rather puzzled most people with knowledge on the subject how Rick could not only get away with using mind-controlling Pokéballs (there were many past examples of people trying something in that direction but they had all gotten a few months in jail) but even get official papers that literally ordered him to do it, but somehow it happened, and the evidence was right there for all to see in the form of the Cleanwater City Gym.

Needless to say, all this was not common knowledge among eleven-year-olds, but Mark had thoroughly researched it, and the reason for that was that he was, for lack of a stronger word, obsessed with legendaries. Ever since he was little, they had fascinated him, consumed his mind and thought. He had read every book about them he had come across at least a dozen times, whined for more every Christmas and his birthday, and now, or so he thought, he knew everything there was to know that even distantly had to do with them. His dream was to lay his eyes on a legendary Pokémon just once in his lifetime. Obviously the clones wouldn’t count, but this was one of the many reasons he had been so excited about becoming a trainer.

Mark suddenly realized that Charmander had opened his eyes. He looked slightly dazed, but he was blinking. Mark stopped and put the lizard Pokémon carefully down onto the ground. Charmander shakily got on his feet and looked around.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking up at Mark with a confused expression.

“Er… on Route 201,” Mark said hesitantly.

“Why?” Charmander asked and looked around.

“Well, you fainted and we had to do something, so I had to take you out of town,” Mark said in accordance with his politically corrected version of the story.

“Alone and with a backpack?” the Pokémon asked with a hint of amusement. Mark sighed.

“I just… really wanted to be a trainer,” he muttered, looking down. Charmander would hate him now. He just knew it.

“Well, thanks for being honest,” the Pokémon said and didn’t sound too angry. Mark looked up.

“I kind of figured,” Charmander said and shrugged, but smiled a little. “Never thought you’d actually go ahead and take me out of town without asking, though – how did your parents let you do that, anyway?”

Mark smiled slightly back. “They don’t know a lot about Pokémon training and the Agreements. They didn’t start teaching that stuff in Sailance until after they made it standard in Ouenian schools, which was just like ten years ago. That was a part of my plan.” His smile faded again. “But well… what now?”

Charmander shrugged. “Well… there is a reason I volunteered to be a starter Pokémon in the first place. I wanted to try having a trainer and was ready to take a risk in who I might end up with, and I still am… and you sound really, really desperate.” The lizard smiled.

Mark’s face broke into a wide grin. “Thanks, Charmander.”

“Besides, we’ve gotten to know each other, and you’re a nice guy. Just don’t break any more Agreements on me in the future, okay?” Charmander snickered a little. “Now let’s go on to Cleanwater. I forgive you.”


As so many other things, Mark’s extreme happiness at finally being a real Pokémon trainer didn’t last very long. When it started raining almost as heavily as the day he first found the Pokémon, he started to worry about Charmander’s wellbeing.

“I’m fine,” Charmander told him for the two hundredth time. “You’re shielding my tail flame when you’re walking beside me, and besides, it’s nowhere near as bad as that day. If it were, I’d have fainted ten minutes ago.”

“Should I carry you?” Mark offered.

Charmander looked at him doubtfully, like he wasn’t sure if he should consider it disrespectful to be carried around when fully conscious, but then he looked at his shrinking tail flame and shivered. “I guess.”

Mark smiled and picked the lizard Pokémon carefully up. He himself had put on a raincoat when the rain started to get bad, so he was not wet. His mom had of course been the one who insisted that he pack it, and it was a rather ugly bright orange aside from being a bit big for him, but he was thankful for it now.


He ran.

Rainwater trickled down his face and into his eyes. It washed the tears away, but his vision remained blurred. Not that it mattered. He was just running in a straight line anyway, and where it was taking him was the last thing he was worrying about.

And that was why he didn’t notice the rock right in front of him.

He tripped and landed headfirst on the damp ground. Still he wasted no more time than necessary, scrambled back to his feet, shook the dizziness out of his head and tried to ignore the stinging pain in his leg. He realized he was limping.

But despite it all, he ran.


Mark walked on for a little while with Charmander in his arms. The rain showed no signs of being about to subside even as the sky slowly grew darker, and to make things even worse, the road lay uphill and Mark was getting tired.

“Why can’t they move Cleanwater closer to Sailance?” he groaned.

“Yeah, I really wonder why they don’t want all their Pokémon to spontaneously faint and need to be moved in a huff to Alumine,” Charmander said and rolled his eyes.

A few moments of silence passed.

“Good point, I guess.”


He wanted to give up.

His legs felt like jelly, he was completely soaked with water, and his ears were numb with cold. He gazed weakly at the road just a couple of meters ahead and it struck his mind just to lie down on it right where the hill would block a driver’s view of him and wait for death to arrive on wheels. He was sure by now that he was dying anyway, whichever way it went.

He took the last shaky steps through the grass, still not entirely sure whether he was going to continue all the way across the street, but he never had to make that decision. Just as he felt the cold mortar under his feet, his exhaustion got the better of him and he slipped into unconsciousness.

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Old 04-07-2006, 08:43 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

The first, crazy thing that popped into Mark’s head when he saw little brown furball on the edge of the road was that it was some sort of a furry handbag that a girl had dropped. He had no idea why of all things it made him think of a furry handbag, but somehow it did.

It did not take him long, however, to realize that it was not a handbag but a small Pokémon, and as soon as he realized that, he took a few steps nearer to it to see what it was.

He blinked.

“It’s an Eevee,” he said blankly to no one in particular.

Eevee, as everybody knew, were rather rare Pokémon that everybody wanted but only the luckiest could get. Lately, admittedly, special action had been taken to conserve several popular but rare Pokémon species, and supposedly there had been some success in the Eevee department, but still he could not believe that he was looking at a real, living Eevee that was lying on the road just a few meters in front of him with an abandoned Pokéball in the grass just beside it.

He looked at Charmander. The lizard had fallen asleep.

Mark picked the Pokéball carefully up and examined it. The smooth metallic surface was wet, a few grass blades glued to it by the water. As he held it, the raindrops washed some of them away.

He rotated it in his hand so that the red half of the sphere pointed upwards. He fondled the round button in the middle of it as his gaze darted over to the Eevee.

He shook his head as a mental image of Charmander popped up in his head:

Just don’t break any more Agreements on me in the future, okay?

Catching an unconscious Pokémon is bad, bad, bad.

Mark sighed deeply. He looked with regret at the Pokéball and then tossed it as hard as he could into the ground, gritting his teeth.

He walked a few difficult steps past the Eevee, seeing its long furred ears hanging limply onto the road. The fur on its forehead was matted with blood. The thick collar of creamy fur around its neck was torn and wet.

Mark forced his eyes to stop looking at it and instead fixed them on the lights of Cleanwater City beyond the hill, trying to focus on the warmth of the Pokémon Center that was waiting for him there. He was not very successful.

“Damn!” he hissed, turning once again to the small Pokémon that was lying helplessly by the roadside. He put Charmander quickly onto the ground in such a careless fashion that the lizard only just managed to land on his feet after snapping awake in mid-air.

“You’ll have to walk,” Mark said emptily as he picked up the soft little creature.

He ran bitterly towards Cleanwater with the Eevee in his arms without saying another word. Charmander followed him as fast as he could on his short legs, still confused about what had happened.

An open, slightly cracked Pokéball was left behind them on the road, slowly filling with water as the rain went on.

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Old 04-07-2006, 08:44 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Chapter 4 Extra: The Ten Agreements of Pokémon Training

1. A Pokémon has, under all circumstances, an unquestionable right to disobey a trainer's command if the Pokémon so desires.
2. In a trainer to trainer battle, a Pokémon may not aim its attacks to be fatal and must, if necessary, decrease its attacks' power on purpose in order to make them relatively harmless. Likewise, a trainer may not order a Pokémon to kill its opponent.
3. A Pokémon currently staying with a trainer should not attack a human for any reason except in self-defense. The same applies to any human assaulting a trainer's Pokémon.
4. Trainers should view Pokémon battling as a sport, and a sport only. Pokémon battles should not be used to settle personal disputes between trainers.
5. A Pokémon has a right to fight any trainer who wishes to capture it, or, if it does not wish to be caught, to escape from the battle. If a Pokémon is captured without opportunity or ability to fight or run, such as when caught unconscious or when too young to fight, it should be regarded as unfairly obtained.
6. Any Pokémon that has been separated from a former trainer against its will and obtained by another trainer should be regarded as unfairly obtained.
7. A trainer is obliged to ensure his or her Pokémon's health and safety at all times. Any Pokémon whose health is violated or not cared for by its trainer should be regarded as abused.
8. Any Pokémon in a trainer's possession has a right to training and excercise. A trainer is obliged to train every Pokémon that he or she obtains appropriately for the Pokémon's endurance and needs. Any Pokémon denied of training should be regarded as abused.
9. Any Pokémon has a right to request to be released from a trainer's care if dissatisfied, and for that request to be respected. In accordance with Agreement #1, a Pokémon may disregard a trainer's orders until released if the trainer is reluctant to follow this rule.
10. If an abused or unfairly obtained Pokémon is not released upon its wish, an attack on the trainer, strictly for the purpose of freedom and no more serious than necessary, should be regarded as self-defense.

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Old 04-11-2006, 03:53 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Review time.

How much I really, honestly, and truthfully enjoyed the story based on my personal opinion. (9.5/10)

Lots and lots of depth, something I love and it’s something that keeps me reading. Everything from “the Effect” in Sailance to trainers understanding Pokemon speech is quite unique and very interesting to read. Not only that, but it puts a lot more depth in the story. Plus Mark’s story on becoming a Pokemon trainer isn’t a typical one of going to Professor so-and-so, this is far better designed than that and has a lot more feeling behind it. Plus, the prologue is flat out suspenseful, no doubt about that.

How much I liked your description. (10/10)

Dragonfree for the win. So much easier to visualize how you described the rain, the flame on Charmander’s tail, Mark’s feelings for his teacher Mrs. Grodski, and the interactions he had with his parents concerning his grades and becoming a trainer. I know you have the rest of this story posted elsewhere but the little that I’ve read here is amazing. You only rarely find this kind of feeling and emotion in a story.

How much I liked your characters. (9/10)

It’s a bit too early to judge this, but so far so good. Mark is a typical average kid with a dream, and already he has shed light on what his personality is like. Already I can see a good solid framework developing here in a trainer that will likely mature greatly through his journey, and discover things that no one else has. His parents seem very realistic too, more realistic than “ok, bye honey” you see in other stories and in the show. As a responsible parent, who wouldn’t be concerned about your child heading off on their own? And even Mrs. Grodski herself, a not-so-pleasant reminder of how I went through hell like that at school. All very believable.

How much I liked your plot and setting. (P/10)

P stands for pending. It wouldn’t do this story justice to judge it on its plot when clearly it’s only started at this point. So far, it’s very good but I already know things will change in the story. Your opening was exceptional, however.

How much realism was in the story. (9.75/10)

Realistic features in real life that aren’t in the Pokemon games + careful and clever implementation = way more realism. This had plenty of that. Having to pass tests and understand certain codes and trainer ethics makes way more sense than having the privilege to become a trainer just from a “coming of age” kind of thing. Worried parents, annoying tenured teachers, and kids struggling in school all adds more to the realism.

We need more fics like this.

Last edited by Neo Emolga; 04-11-2006 at 05:07 PM.
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Old 04-13-2006, 12:20 AM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Wow, thanks, Neo Pikachu. ^_^; You're really encouraging me to write this version faster. I really appreciate every good writer who likes my fics.

Chapter five should be coming not too long from now.

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Old 09-04-2006, 05:14 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Whoa. Excellent plotline so far. Characters are, as Neo Pikachu said, very realistic. Also like Neo Pikachu said, I like the fact that he didn't just go to some professor. It's great that the charmander has an actual personality, unlike many other fics I've read. I see no grammatical errors so far. The idea of learning pokemon speech is a great twist. Mrs. Grodski reminds me of a few of my teachers. The thing with mew in the begining was very well written too. Only thing about that part was that I couldn't recognize the last pokemon it mentioned. Overall I give your fic 9.5/10
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Old 09-04-2006, 07:45 PM
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Default Re: The Quest for the Legends at PE2K (take two)

Wow. You've really done a great job. The characters are diverse and realistic, the decription is wonderful, and your writing style is great. You seem to be taking the storyline just fast enough to keep your reader hooked, but not so fast that we can't understand what's going on, or that the story seems rushed. You're a great writer, and I definitely can't wait to see more of this.

Good luck and keep up the good work.

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