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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 03-14-2006, 03:28 PM
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Lightbulb Evolution Of Fable (PG-13)

'Realistic family photo' AKA 'If We Were Pure' art comissioned from Raizy
Please feel free to post reveiws in this topic, I don't mind at all :)!
An author’s foreword note:
I like to gleefully call this my quarter life crisis fanfic. The reason for this is fairly simple, when I first got the idea for this fanfic I had just turned 21 and was having one of those reflective moments we all have when we realize that one of the big milestones everyone always talks about is right there staring you in the face. But the whole romance thingy plot concerning Yvonne and Nathan and certain supernatural elements didn't come until much later. It all started with this line of questions;

In the Pokémon world, if you don't go on a journey at age ten then what? Better yet, what happens to twentysomethings and older in the Pokémon world?

My answers to these questions, although a bit unorthodox, I hope will entertain you and make you think a little bit as well. In some instances Mary sueism in this writing is very much intentional.

A usually short narrative making an edifying or cautionary point and often employing as characters animals that speak and act like humans.

Every world has its stories, its forgotten people working droning jobs with little consideration or hope toward the future.
The Pokémon world is no different. For a fable never truly fades with time, it simply evolves.
Book 1: Human

I. A Nurses Confession,The Beginning Of a Fable. (Done!)
II: An Unsettling hatching, Rediscovery Of a Self. (Done!)
III: An Extended explanation, Avoidance Of a Mortality (Done!)
IV: A Forgetful Farewell, Shedding Of a Humanity (Done!)

Book 2: Hatchling

V: An Initiation In White Linen, Inheritance Of a Family (Done!)
VI: An Unmet Expectation, Reunion of A Bloodline (Done!)

Word count so far in WordPerfect, 19599 words
Wordperfect file first made on :Saturday, November 26, 2005, 8:22:18 PM (Fable is two years old now :)! )

Fun with Fable Art Section
(or Flaaffy's bad recoloring ;)

Fates' Only Love (Fable theme)
In the morning when I open-ed my eyes,
under the clear moolite skies,
I remember being so sur-prised to see you.
That I ran-, and left my van-it-y on my nightstand,
Letting my common sense fall from the palm of my hand
With my faith in my pocket you told me to:
Breathe in e-ter-nity!
Be like the sea...
Live every day, think not of tomorrow
We are histories pow-er!
Fates' only true love and desire...
Hold me close, don't ever let me go...
Hold me to the light-...
Teach.. me.. how to fly-...
*Is 28 now*

My *Fanfics*Blog* Art

Last edited by Orange_Flaaffy; 04-30-2008 at 11:12 PM.
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Old 03-14-2006, 03:51 PM
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Default I. A nurses confession, the beginning of a fable.

My name is Yvonne, pronounced, not like “A-von”( that product annoying salespeople dressed up as Delibird advertise by talking about someone named Mark all the time), but “Ee-von”.

I stopped typing on my laptop slowly after this bold statement, wondering if I had come across in too snooty a tone with which to began a memoir.

No, no, it’s fine. I decided After all, if I can’t be highly in my own writing where else can I ?

The rest of the details of my birth(“May 16th, 9:45 am..”) and hometown (“The secluded water city of Cerulean..”) followed soon after, and poured so swiftly from my typing fingers that I could have sworn I was writing with an ink pen by candlelight like all the great master writers...

I felt my brow pull down in effort, my blue eyes squint into a driven glaze as I wrote on, my own personal inner cheerleading squad shouting me on.

Headed for future glory! Bound to be written about in the history books! Others will look at the place in which I sit today and speak “Lo’! This is where the famous one penned her greatest wor...!

“Nurse Joy! N.U..R.S..E...JOOOY!” A pitiful, whimpering, and somewhat whinny voice hollered out of the blue.

“Ack!” I replied, spilling over backward for the bar stool like perch I had been sitting on. I fell with a crash, the white titles on the ceiling of the room appearing blurry before my eyes for a couple uneasy moments before rearranging themselfs back into line.

Funny, I had never noticed what a fine remodeling job the work crew had done on the building before, granted, I had never viewed it from upside down ground level position before ether.

Ours was a small pokemon center after all, situated in between the outskirts of Viridian Forest and Pewter City.

Everyone (Myself and a handful of my peers who also hate working here) was rightfully surprised that a “middle of nowhere” center like this one would be approved for the funding to get repairs and other much needed maintenance done. Yet, here it was in all it’s “work environment” glory:

New black and white title floors so clean you could eat off their glossy surface, sky blue and baby yellow sunflower print wallpaper, and glossy red counter tops with matching red cushioned stools that gave the illusion we were running a 50's malt shop rather than a pokemon healing facility. All of this was meant, in essence to energize we “workers” and provide a safe happy place for all.

Oh, how I it hated so.

I got up slowly, rubbing my head at the point of its impact with the shiny linoleum and wondering why new pokemon trainers always happened to be so loud and energetic in the middle of the afternoon. Then I saw who it was.

“Oh, hello Billy, how nice to see you again. How are you?” I spoke in the false sweet happy tone that was company policy.

If ever there was a legend around this pokemon center it was Billy. This ten year beginner had been coming to my center for the better part of a month, at least twice a day, seven days a week. His light hair was always dirty and sometimes it was difficult to tell whether the large collection of band aids covering areas of his face and knees in situated clumps were barely holding his small preadolescent body together or he was only trying to pretend to get in the bloody battles with lone Pidgey he often talked about. Ether way, his only pokemon, a tiny Weedle, always ended up getting the business end of whatever they chanced to have come across and was as a result battled well beyond its limit.

Every. Single. Day.

It was more than enough to make any pokemon caretaker sick, and one reason of many why I hated this job. My cheerfulness at helping trainers like Billy may have been pretend, but my love for pokemon certainly was not.

“Stupid Weedle fainted again, he’s so weak ya know.” Billy said briskly, reaching a hand into his pocket and digging out a pokéball.

Beaten and dented, the once bright red and white pokemon container was now a half dark brown and tan mess from the ingrained dirt on its surface. I poked it inquisitively with a fingernail, wincing as a half inch deep section of sediment crumbled off the spear.

I knew from experience the pokemon inside couldn’t be much better.

“Okay then, well we’ll just give Weedle a few moments on the pokéball energizer and send him back to be looked at by the type specialty nurses.” I said oh too cheerfully, my smile masking the inner dialogue that was running though my head as I took the ball.

This is a pokemon center, not a quickie mart! Shame on you for battling your pokemon so recklessly! They are living things just like you or me and..

“Thanks Nurse Joy, but could you hurry up? Just healin’ it on the table thingie should be good enough.” Billy said, wiping his nose with a band-aid covered hand.

My. Name. Is. Not. JOY! My inner voice of truth yelled It’s Yvonne! How many times do I have to tell you before you get in though your head..And, um, I’m not really a nurse ether..

My last thought stopped me from correcting the little boy about my name for what seemed like the hundredth time. If he knew that I was still just a student at Kanto Nurse Joy University there was no telling what might spill forth from his brace lined teeth, and I could really do without that today.

School. Phh. It wasn’t as if I really *loved* what I was being taught there..

I placed the pokéball in the round indentation and watched the live force of the pokemon glow for a moment inside the ball with a studious concentration.

A second later, much to Billy’s disapproval, I had whisk the ball, pokemon and all, into the back hallway and handed it off to our centers resident bug type P.P.D.

He flashed me a look of “Oh, this again.” and began to go to work like a well oiled, if a little old, machine.

I returned to the front desk, nimbly getting down on my hands and knees to avoid being detected by the boy, and snatched up my trusty laptop from the floor where it had fallen.

And now it’s time for this little intern to get back to her lives story I remarked gleefully to myself, making a speedy, crawling retreat to the quiet recovery room.


The recovery room was a cozy and inviting place. It was now warming itself in the early evening with a tried and true small kerosene heater, lit by lamps and night lights.

The new sky blue wallpaper reflected the light in a soft manner, making the room appear a light gold color that bathed every form within it. Pokemon, small and large alike, lay here, some tucked in-between lacy blankets like foundling babies. Overall it felt like a nursery, and at this time of day, was the most perfect place to write I could hope for.

In this peacefully silence that seemed to hang in the air, broken only by the soft sleeping sounds of the pokemon, I had been putting myself in a mental psychologist chair for the better part of four hours, far away in my own “writers world”.

When had it started? When had I began to hate this job?

Well, from the very beginning. I answered myself.

Since when I was little and wanted to be a pokemon trainer. My parents said it was too dangerous and put me into school. Into something nice and safe that would give me a career “fit for a young lady”.

Now, all I knew of any use was the beginning courses of being a “pokéball technical nurse”, a fancy title for the nurse whose only job is to run a pokemon centers pokéball energizer day and night, and can say “Would you like to rest your pokemon?” and “We hope to see you again! ” in five different Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn dialects.

It all comes, in the end, I suppose, from wanting to make my parents happy.

Despite my hidden temper all I had every wanted was to make everyone in my life happy with me.

It sounded so pitiful now that I thought of it that way.

After all, I was nineteen, going on twenty in a month or so. Almost an official adult. Who knew if my father might get it into his head to arrange a marriage for me or something, all for my “own good”?

I felt my eyes widened in horror at the thought.

What if he already had and just hadn’t told me yet? What would I do then to please everyone?

A shiver ran down my spine and I shook it off, going back to typing more notes on my computer, only much slower this time.

My parents would be shocked if they knew that since my dreams of being a Pokémon trainer had been crushed, I had set my sites on being a best selling author. A job , to them, that ranked somewhere between someone who cleans out cages at the zoo and a homeless bird woman.

I typed the next words with vigor:

But never the less, as a proud bookworm for years, I continue on under their noses.

My cheeks suddenly flushed as I remembered the *other* thing I had been keeping from them.

The one reason why had I taken the Saturday swift in the first place... HIM.

Last edited by Orange_Flaaffy; 06-01-2006 at 01:09 AM.
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Old 03-14-2006, 03:52 PM
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The single line of text in his usual stately Times New Roman sent my heart into nervous flip- flops in my stomach. They were the words every person in an internet relationship both hopes for and dreads.

My eyes, scanning over and reading the declaration for what seemed like the tenth time, were the only part of my body I could feel moving as my mouth went dry and my thoughts started playing emotional maracas. The words began with an innocent every day “I want..” and ended with the ever popular earth shattering, “ meet you.”

The logical side of my mind was the first to speak

Of course he would want to meet you in real life, you’ve been talking online for almost six months now.

“Yvonne? Are you still there? “ The stately black text appeared slowly, almost shyly in the empty white space of the private chat room.

I blinked, startled out of my misty daze and typed in reply hurriedly.

“Yes, I’m here.”

I could almost hear his laugh, or what I had always thought of as his laugh come across the endless silence of the internet.

“Thank goodness for that, I thought for a moment you had fainted.”

I smiled, chicken pecking a reply cheerfully with a lone four fingers like in my high school days.

“”Well, you did floor me that is for sure.”

My spirits began to lighten slightly. This was not a stranger I was speaking to after all, it was Nathan. Nathan, the same person I had spent months in
confiding in, who always was so understanding of how maddening work could be, who seemed to be the only one to really see the world like I did...

“So, should I take that pause as a “no”? I wouldn’t want to make you do anything you do not want to, you know that.”

“Yes...I mean, no, no! I would love to meet you, really I would.” I typed, flustered and tripping over my own virtual tongue quite nicely.

“ 8:30 pm then, next Saturday. At the edge of forest in back of your Center..I wouldn’t want you to get scolded for meeting a boyfriend on your employers time after all.”

I let out a giggle at the word boyfriend, a term as rare in the world of a pokemon nurse as a noon time sighting of a flying Doduo over Pewter City. Taking in a deep breath I replied at that very moment while my mind was still numbed with happiness.


A fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into Yvonne.

My logical side chimed in now, seeing the coast was clear as my faded happiness from days before had been replaced by the chill of being outside for the last ten minutes.

Having paid the price of the customary sacrificial apple filled bear claw to my cubby overseer for an hour of "I don't know where she went or when she will be back." time, here I sat Scott free of...and waiting. The waiting was the hardest part.

The appointed meeting spot was a serene grove of fur and oak just outside the line of sight of anyone who might happen to glance out of the rear windows of the building.

The seat upon which I was nervously resting now also happened to be the edge of the honorable centers guest room heating and air conditioner.

I dug the toe of my shoe into the earth that rimmed the surrounding concrete of the large grey metal box with a choppy kick.

A nineteen girl old girl was found dead today. An emotionless news reporter rattled in my minds eye. Rumor has it she had taken up the obsessive desperate practice of online dating, and was planning to meet the man she had been conversing with soon after she disappeared. Film at ten.

No, No! I shook my head with a rough forward jerk, clearing my fears. You’ve got to think positive! Think of the nice times with Nathan, think of the things he’s told you, think of what his face will be like...

A chill wind whipped pass the tall grass between the trees just then as if to aid my troubled mind. The air, while seemed moments ago to still be heavy with the memory of the muggy summer day now danced across my bare arms, leaving goose bumps.

I breathed it in, slowly filling my chest, the weight of work forgotten as I busied myself with smoothing out the hem of the white pinafore on my pink uniform dress.

Would he be tall or short? Perhaps he is a different nationally than me? I never thought to ask!

Well that didn’t matter much, he did say that he lived somewhere near here, and was only a few months older than myself...

Hand in hand with the mellow wind and my now acquired need for a coat, my imagination painted a picture of a man with long dark hair and eyes of an undescribable mixed color worthy of a best selling romance novel. My eyes glazed over jubilantly, and my bottom ached from being pressed against my metal perch somewhere far away, as I daydreamed....

The warm soil and clear night had welcomed the cheery sounds of chirping crickets and humming Venomoth from among the shadows by the time I saw a figure in the near distance and sat up like a shot.

It was plain to see the person was a man, and that he had been approaching all this time. I cursed myself for dozing off.

He was a figure of above average height warped in a light brown coat and brimmed hat that brought to mind the adventures of an underpaid daredevil rune explorer.

I remembered plainly now from our months of chatting Nathan’s job..


“So, what do you do?”

“Nothing worth speaking of, just capturing and selling common pokemon from the wild in small numbers to good breeders.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, you must have such freedom..”

“It pays the bills...”

Surprisedly, he was not at all large for his frame for an outdoors man, his upper arms even appearing a bit scrawny under layers of fabric as he reached up to pull off his hat, wiping his brow with long gloved fingers.

I couldn’t tell for sure if the cause for this pause was mainly because he had walked a long distance already today or if it was purely nerves at our meeting each other.

I was completely sure of the later source when one of his green eyes locked upon my own under his newly reveled untidy mop of short sandalwood brown hair.

He had noticed I was no longer asleep!

Whether he was a bit slow at making observations of details, or had just been avoiding my curious gaze up until this moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

I stood up slowly, rooted to the spot my shoes came into contact with a strong pull of self-conscious shyness.

His smile was a slow, leisurely gesture that caught me off guard, like the welcome of a long lost childhood friend. His first words were not.

“Did you invite me here of your own free will?” He asked, his tone strangely serious, melting away his first reaction to me.

What sort of question is that?

My mind flashed back to our easy going discussions on the internet. These weighted, business like words did not match the sort of man who had told me in serous confidence his most embarrassing secrets..his favorite novels..his small, funny habits...

“Yes, um, of course. What is it Nathan? Is somethi.. ” My question fell sort as I saw a shiver quake his frame a moment after my saying his name, and slowly, like a worker suddenly relieved of a heavy weight, fell to his knees.

My god! He’s sick! Howlonghashebeenwalking?!

I gasped, my ‘nursing drive’ kicking in as I raced quickly to bridge the small distance between us.

“So.. you fully.. comprehend..the significance of this meet?” He nearly croaked now.

Dehydration. I forgave most of his words to this natural demon he had gotten while coming to see me..just me...

Of course, he wanted to make sure I wasn’t one of those girls who acted like they cared online but never followed though on anything..The importance of this meeting, maybe being his girlfriend.


The whole world seemed to slow down to a crawl as he rased his head upward and my breath caught in my chest.

His eyes shone an unmistakable violet sheen with the fleeting intensity of a ripple on water.

Silencing my scream, thoughts, in one fluid he rose up with the speed of a soundless wind, latching on to my troat.

Kicking and pounding my fists against his hold, what began as two heavy shots of pain throughout my body soon numbed into a slow pulsing lightheadedness, laced with the sound of someone screaming far away.

A warmth..

like a cloud,





Last edited by Orange_Flaaffy; 06-01-2006 at 01:07 AM.
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Old 06-01-2006, 12:07 AM
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Default Chapter II: An Unsettling hatching, Rediscovery of a self.

The worm. Choking... gagging my breath. Feasting upon my soul with eyes of blood red ruby. It's skin, snow white, segmented, pulsing, drawing inward my life as I watched it from some indescribable dreamlike location within myself, and replacing it with a warm colorless mucous.

The wretched creature... yes... it's evil was like a slow pull... the gravity of an unknown planet of consciousness....

Onward and onward it seemed to drive, not satisfied with the confines of my mouth but wishing to reach some unknown destination closer to my throat.

Then... then, I felt it. Instinctive...

Yes.. Along with that one half solidified burst of will I gave form to my terror, loneliness, emotion....

With one swift movement closing my jaw, bringing an end to its loathsome life....

Clamping down on it with my teeth and hearing its hideous cry...

I could hear words as if they were echoing down a long tunnel, randomly muffled and jumbled beyond my half sleeping minds recognition, but faintly familiar like the comforting monotone of a foreign language tape.... And cursing , yes, very loud cursing...

“My tongue, my tongue! Why does it always have to be my tongue?!”

The voice was somewhat brash and unencumbered as if very used to hearing itself talk.

“Oh settle down now, it’s not that bad...”

This voice, its neighbor, was in comparison a bit mellow around the edges , the soothing counterweight to the first impolite outburst... that voice, my mind searched sleepily, yes, Nathan’s voice...Oh, so warm...

“Don’t give me that now ! I’ve had it, this is the last straw! Every time, every time, I tell you, I play nursemaid for months and months and what do I get in return? This!”

A pause that indicated some sort of unspoken gesture followed.

“Oh that . Really now, Milo, a mere flesh wound.”

An exasperated sigh that could only come with years of bottled adolescent emotion filled the room...

Faintly I began to feel the tingling sensation of blood returning to my hands...
The speakers didn’t seem to notice however and continued on in their conversation.

“I don’t care what you say she is, Father, she might as well starve for all I care! I will not be expected to tongue feed her one more minute if my life...”

“Don’t you dare use such an insolent tone about your...!”

Slowly now....
Yes, I felt as if I really could move again, my limbs heavy like granite and my head filled with a cotton that expanded and contracted with every feeble attempt of thought.

Opening my eyes was my first mistake.

My hands reached up to shade my face from the radiance of the sun, the faint weight of a sheet falling away from them.

My vision was only a fraction better when the gruesome image of two rows of demonic teeth parted in an inhuman laughter upon an unhinged jaw drove me backward.

The uneasy uncontrollable feeling of falling off a high bed onto a cold concrete floor was muffled by the layer of cold fabric wrapped around my legs.

When suddenly, in that moment from everywhere... and somewhere very near me, I heard the same scream I heard upon first losing consciousness in Nathan's arms... what seemed like only a moment ago.

But this scream was new, edged with the raw terror and primal rage.
Not a human sound, but a cry of a caged animal just disciplined with an electric rod, laced at its ending with the uncommon mix of an ambulance siren and nails upon a chalkboard.

I felt my own arms clutched around my body, wet with sweat and shaking violently now....

When the form I had seen before spread out large scaled wings from the confines of its towering silhouette.

The sound came again.

More cursing, more half jumbled speech I could not understand.
In that moment I realized the sound was me.

And I didn't care.

“That damn Super Sonic, I never knew, your kind, got it so young...”

“Hold your tongue Milo, that is our god given first line of protection, one that you deserve! Put those infernal things away... you sent her into shock ”

I was cold... so cold... and alone... so alone.

Somehow I seemed suddenly over aware of the pressure of my spinal cord against my other organs as I lay curled up in what I could only guess in my present condition was the corner of some sort of large room.

The two walls were the only thing keeping me up right I realized dimly, when I felt his presence come near.

His smell was intoxicating, as if a scent alone could carry with it the warmth and spiciness of a summer day, the breath of fresh cut wood and the aroma of old leather bound library books, thumbed well by the hands of time.

As the weight of his arm came down to encircle my shoulders I felt my body move instinctively toward his chest, my bare legs coming to rest upon his jean covered lap like my body was on security seeking autopilot.

His voice was a low reassuring monotone of sound, half of the wording of which was lost in the haze I felt...As if it was someone else far away who happened to be nuzzling her nose into the well stretched fabric of his T-shirt.

Warmth... home...

“There, there, are safe, you are with me you shall never be in need nor want for anything. You can attack me if you wish, kill me or do whatever your heart desires... but whatever you do, you must not sleep. Stay here with me... and come back to reason first. Then, please let us talk together. That is all I ask you. There there.... there there... you are safe and warm...”

What followed next was very difficult to describe as it seemed, at the start, like an elaborate exercise to steal me away from the lulling unspoken melody Nathan's breath and heartbeat continued to make, as though tempting me to the subconscious paradise of sleep.

"What is the capital of Kanto?"

His first question, silly, unimportant, something kindergartners learn before afternoon snack.

For the strangest reason I did not know....

It did not matter, this brand new level of intense feeling did.

"What is the capital of Kanto?"

Again that trivial question, his voice seemed not so warm when requesting it from me.
Perhaps if I tried his speech would return to that gentle reassuring hum of before.


My voice was odd, sounding cracked and awkward like an unplayed record left for too long in a forgotten attic.

"Good girl." Came the humming tone again.

Yes, oh yes how I wanted to hear it once more.
And so the bizarre quiz like requests continued on for what seemed to be hours, or even days.

Perhaps it was really only a few minutes.

Everything from color of the sky, to the sound of a waking Bellsprout, all the way down to the finer points of my Pokémon organ rehabilitation training.

All the while my need for reassurance was slowly growing, clearing and reshaping itself into true reasoning emotions.
First a pure calm, then a nagging curiosity, and finally the seeds of a full-blown frustration.

Maybe it was a math questions that finally did it.

I never was really good at math.

“Twenty-four times Twenty four ?

“Five hundred ....seventy... six.”

“Twenty-six times twenty six ?”

“Six hundred...”

“Oh? What was that?”

“This... is...silly!”

I heard something move to the left of us as if a large two-ton sack of potatoes had just been roused from a long nap.

“Hey, a snappy retort! She actually talks. Throw a party already for all I care. Anything would be better than listening to all this mushy 'bring your mind back to reason' stuff...”

The last intended add-on to the speakers comment, something about the mouth he had been feeding for the last few months finally being useful for a change, died away to a grumbling murmur a second later.

Upon glancing upward from my cradled area on his lap (my eyes now fully refocused back to normal) I could see that it was Nathan's own piercing glare of discipline that cut the boys commentary dead.
His clear green eyes were surely a force to be reckoned with .

Yes, a boy. While the voice was large it definitely had a younger sound to it; one that I've become well acquainted with in the confines of my pokecenter internship.

I looked up farther, finally summoning the strength within my muscles to turnabout fully from the nook of a Nathan's embrace.

I found that I was in a small flat, a sort of plain low rent district studio apartment that was popular with poor middle age unattached men (or at least what I had always imagined they would have).

Two large windows allowed golden sunlight to spill into the confines of the humble abode.

It was furnished only with a TV, large double bed (I must have fallen off of that), a refrigerator, and a half-dozen beat up looking dining chairs, all of which were varying degrees of dingy white.

White seems to be a theme here actually, I wonder if the owner has a germ phobia? I pondered

Not that I had time to psychoanalyze interior decorating though, as what happened to be sitting, I mean, who happened to be sitting that is, in one of the chairs, was far more, um, interesting...

The first thing that stood out about him, weirdly, was the sheer size of his legs.
Twin homages to whatever higher power had first invented bone cartilage, a single one of his appendages was with the size of both of my upper thighs put together! They bulged out of a pair of faded kneelength camouflage cargo pants, and ended dramatically with a large pair of bare feet overrun with calluses that he was rubbing against the concrete where he sat, impatiently shifting his weight. And what a weight it was!

Stretching out in every direction, from his mass laced arms to his protruding stomach, he looked every bit like the type of teenager I would never want to meet in a dark alley. He could not have weighed less than 300 pounds, and from what I could see of his well-defined deltoids under a tight fitting black coat, not all of that was mere fat.

His young, freckled, red hair rimmed face seemed almost out of place upon its large strong lower jaw line as he eyed me with a look I couldn't read.

For a second I could've sworn his gray eyes grew a ruby red shade in the light.

"Milo, for goodness sakes be personable for once."

Nathan spoke firmly to the teenaged giant I had by now made a point of edging away from.

Dignity was a small price to pay for self-preservation after all.

" At least try to introduce yourself like a gentleman."

The oversized youth extended a hand with weighted reluctance and squeezed my own shaking fingers within his sausage like digits.

"Name's Milo, Milo Aldridge. Not that last names have any meaning around here."

He spoke flatly, looking me square in the eye with an intensity that burned an imaginary hole around the vicinity of my forehead.

And then he did something that I wasn't expecting it all.

He smiled.

Now under normal circumstances I might have thought of this is a friendly gesture if still a little bit sarcastic.

But a normal smile would have stopped far sooner.

In place of it, the expanse of Milo's lips around his two rows of surprisingly pearly teeth continued to draw farther and farther back around his jaw line, revealing the gruesome sight I had thought was only a dream earlier:

A semi circle of what looked like well over 200 brutally sharp canines of an otherworldly predator.

The majority of which turned out to be tucked away under the façade of regular human teeth in the front of his mouth, the action of the flexing his buccinator muscles sliding the natural weapons out of unseen bone sockets.

I shrieked in a true knee-jerk reaction, grabbing a handful of Nathan's shirt and nearly kneeing him in a most uncomfortable area in the process.

Note to self: A guys lap is not necessarily the most ideal place to have screaming convulsions.

Milo's voice boomed in laughter now containing an even more ragged edge to its tone.

“Oh that face! I tell you, it never gets old. Yahaha! Well you better get used to your one of us now....”

I never knew what compelled me to look back at Nathan's face just then but I found I was greeted by the same wide stormy violet colored eyes I remembered so clearly from the night of my collapse.

Two canine teeth, though much less fearsome and more delicate and long looking (Maybe four inches? Their width can't be more than that of a quilting needle) compared to Milos full arsenal, extended out from behind the dummy human ones, resting on the bottom lip of Nathan's now strangely gentle expression.

All my fear and confusion somehow melted into mental silly putty with that single look as he started to speak.

“I know all of this must be a lot for you to take in at once, you have been sleeping for three months after all... You may find your new developing state of mind will help with all of that. But first before we go any further... this mark here. “

I felt his hand come down to trace the hollow of my neck ever so lightly with a burning touch, while its twin reached for something and came back with small square hand mirror, its glass cracked with spider web like fractures in a corner.

I took the handle of the reflective surface gingerly from him, my hand trembling slightly.

What are you afraid of? My inner monologue teased.

I'm... I'm not afraid .

I answered myself slowly

I'm not frightened in all.. but I should be more scared ... That is what worries me.

The mark was a perfect circle the size of an old fashion ten yen coin, its detailing worthy of the envy of a master tattoo artists. In place of ink, the intricate knot within the circle was made up as near as I could tell of my own small blue capillaries and strangely purple tented scar tissue.

It was as if my own body in an attempt to recover from a nearly fatal wound had somehow miraculously reconstructed new blood pathways around the indentation, bowing out to the graceful twist and turns of the artwork.

It seemed to be made up of two sections at first but my eyes were lost when trying to find a point in which the pathways of decorative knot ever truly disconnected.

“It means we will be together for always.”

Nathan whispered a breath away from kissing the spot.

“It is your wedding ring. Do you like it?”

The light click of the mirror being placed upon the floor made little reverberance in the early evening air as I caught sight of the violet shine in my own eyes.

*Is 28 now*

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Old 06-01-2006, 12:41 AM
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Default Re: Chapter II: An Unsettling hatching, Rediscovery of a self.

Wow. O.O Katie liked that, oh yes she did, oh yes she did... *wants to read more* Your use of first person was spectacular! I really like Yvonne, she seems really nice. Have you ever seen Greys Anatomy?

Anyways, that was wonderful. O.O I absolutely loved it. I am even using multiple smilies! XD

I mean... Woh. It blew me off my feet. Enough description so I could see everything, yet not to much to disturb the flow... *hugs Orange* What the perfect bed time story. :)

There were a few typos and the such dotted around the place, I caught all the ones I could. :)

All of this was meant , in essence to energize we “workers” and provide a safe happy place for all.

Oh, how I hated so.
An extra space between the 'meant' and the comma, maybe the energize could use a comma after it? I don't know... And the last sentence is missing an 'it' between hated and so. :)

making a speedy crawling retreat to the quite recovery room.
Maybe a comma between speedy and crawling? Typo with quiet. You put 'quite'. XD

perfect place to write I could hope for .
Accidental space between for and the full stop. :)

Well, for the very beginning. I answered myself
From, not for. :)

I smiled, chicken pecking a reply cheerfully with a lone four fingers like in my high school days.
I don't think the a between with and lone is needed... 'Cause 'a' signifies a single object, doesn't it? *is slightly confuzzled*

the same person I had spent months in confining in,
Confiding, not confining. :)

for meeting a boyfriend on you employers time after all.”
missing an 'r' after you. :)

A nineteen girl old girl was found dead today. An emotionless news reporter rattled in my minds eye Rumor has it she
Missing a full stop between eye and Rumor. :)

smoothing out the him of the white pinafore
Hem, not him. :)

Hand and hand with the mellow wind and my now acquired need for a coat
Hand in hand, not hand and hand. *trips over tongue* XD

suddenly relived of a heavy weight
Missing an 'e' in relieved. :)

Dehydration .
Misplaced period. :)

Yesss... Katie really did love it, especially the snippet you placed here... *hugs Orange* Good job you did!

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Old 06-01-2006, 12:57 AM
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

Thankyouthankyouthankyou! ! I am very bad at catching errors, and have bad spelling beyond what a spell checker can catch. Alot of this has been fixed by my speak and type program but nothing beats a good living person run though ! Thankyyou,thankyou! I will fix all that, and the good reveiw just helps me have faith in the last bit there, I am still so awful at writing action, most of all action that seems to take a while to the character but in reality, only takes a short time
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Old 06-01-2006, 02:46 AM
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

Your welcome!

And don't worry, the action was brilliant. O.O Me want more... XD

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Old 06-04-2006, 05:08 AM
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

And so chapter 2 is finshed. *falls over and dies dramaicly* I never thought I would see the day ! I just barely made the character limit
The next chapter may take quite a bit of time, so reveiw away !
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Old 06-04-2006, 04:28 PM
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

*boogies* New chappy! Yay!

O.o She is one of them... A vampire? *is interested* This is getting very good, yes, very good... I is really loving it... And only three mistakes! *hugs* The rest was great! :D

In place of it , the expanse of Milo's lips around his to rows of surprisingly pearly teeth continued to draw farth and farth back around his jaw line, revealing the gruesome sight
Extra space between 'in place of it' and the comma, and a typo with to. It should be two. :) And I think it is farther, not farth.

I is really, really, loving this. *hugs again*

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Old 06-04-2006, 04:47 PM
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

All edited! Thank you much !
*hides trying not to give away plot*
She is one of them *dodeedodo*, I decided to space the exact info out into two chapters rather than one. Therefore not crushing the reader or myself with a huge info dump . Oh, but what lovely, lovely, info *pets her baby* I'm hoping it will come across okay
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Old 06-16-2006, 05:17 AM
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Default Chapter III: An Extended explanation, Avoidance of a mortality

"Now, if everyone did last night's assignment this question should not strain your feeble little minds: of all the Pokémon species not of the vaporous and gelatinous classifications, which possesses the second most lethal poison?"

My arm ached.

It was embarrassedly skinny, as I was, and had always been, so much smaller than the other children.

Truth be told, this one distinguishing characteristic, which might not have been that big of a deal in a normal classroom, was just the sort of thing to make me a black sheep in primary nursing school.

In this crowd of twenty-four neatly bobbie-pinned heads and looped pink curls, even an unironed dress sleeve could get one a case of no holds barred teasing for an entire day.

I raised my tiny appendage higher in the sea of arms, trying to fight on in the unspoken war.

Pick me! Pick me! My silent plea went out with wiggling fingers.

I switched to the other arm swiftly, supporting the limb with my lesser hand grasping it at the elbow.

I know I know I know I kno...

“Miss Colville?”

"Seviper!" I proclaimed.

Giggles erupted from all sides; signaling my defeat long before the teachers voice chimed in.

“No. That is incorrect. If Miss Colville had happened to read her text more carefully she would know that the Pokémon in question is..."

I felt all the blood rush to my cheeks in embarrassment as Mrs. Noble rattled of off the answer.

Of course I knew. How could I have forgotten? I pressed my nose down on the surface of my desk and groaned.


The pressure against my nose gave two velvety taps and paused again.

Pad, pad.


Pad, pad.

Its taps persistent, this give and take ritual continued on for a good five minutes of annoyance and words on the edge of sleep.

“Aw... Mom... I don't wanna go to school! Mrs. Noble is mean.."

I mumbled, nearly turning all the way over to bury my face in the soft, cool, and very much inanimate pillow surface. A set of claws dug lightly into my side, and a familiar meow of vengeance registered somewhere near my ear.

The flurry of cream colored fur, the shade of a stuck up billionaire movie star’s feather filled sofa throw pillows, was an all too familiar sight to me as I awoke from one reality of gashing teeth to another.

The hissing, spitting, whirlwind of annoyed, and over all most unhappy, Pokémon mass shifted its mighty twelve pound weight swiftly onto my stomach and sent me tumbling halfway upside down over the side of the bed.

The bed... with its rose trimmed sheets... embroidered bedskirt... and battered three-year-old stuffed Goldeen comforter with all its interior filling settled to one side...

My bed... my honest-to-goodness perfectly normal somewhat boring bed!

I was home!

At least, I was in the apartment that had been my home for the last few years of my internship. Its salary was not quite enough for extreme luxury, after all.

My head still spinning, I crained to my neck upwards to lock gazes with a pair of glinting almond shaped sky blue eyes, their pupils so dilated that the light blue made up only a rim of color around a deep sea of black.

“Good morning, Nickel,” I said plainly, feeling my upper lip curl in a weak smile.

"MEOWTH, th, th, Meo!" The enraged urban cat type spat bitterly, lacing my bangs with spittle.

It felt like a hundred years since I had last been in this most ordinary environment, and I knew to Nickel the end result emotionally had been about the same for him.

Pokémon have a very different sense of time than the average human. Some studies suggest that their perception is in many ways akin to a very young human child. Whereas pleasurable events make time travel at the rate of hours a minute, distressing or painful events may seem like they take hours in the confines of a handful of minutes.

I could tell with no hesitation whatsoever that what I had here was a case of a very distressed and neglected feeling meowth.

If I Nathan’s words were true, and I really had been gone for three months, my cat was not about to let me live it down any time soon, that much I was... sure of...

I was...I was... Those two words struck a half forgotten chord somewhere deep in my mind. A memory from yesterday, or had it been longer ago still?

I flopped once more onto the bed, having just recently gathered the necessary strength to scramble back from hanging over the abyss of my bedroom carpet.

The faded blue fabric of the two sizes too big men’s long sleeve t-stirt I now found myself still wearing felt oddly comfortable as I put my arms under my head, subconsciously ringing the three inches of extra material that enveloped both of my hands between my fingers.

I was....

I was....married.

I'd always heard the human lifespan is divided into three records: birth records, marriage records, and death records. Suddenly, the prospect of having two of these said records already applying me at age twenty felt more than a bit depressing.

Of course, most people with commitment issues did not have the odd realization of being born twice...or the unique concept to deal with of not having to face mortality for a very long time.

Still, I had missed the coming-of-age ceremony this year, the only one that would ever apply to me...

I would never get the chance to wear my over flamboyant red kimono and fluffy pink boa, while getting hopelessly drunk on sake with my peers, enjoying the warm buzz of youth, not knowing what the future would bring; being united in the fellowship of acting so extremely goofy for one night in a shade of too bright red lipstick as all the authorities merely looked on...

Now, in place of my birthday celebration, I had three months that were merely a blank slate, and a vague recollection of many hours of detailed explanation told primarily by my new husband, (or should he be referred to as a 'mate'? ) who became such only by kidnapping me in the most blatant example of a worst-case scenario of internet dating I could have ever dreamed of in my former state of mind.

The cocktail of my mixed emotions ran bitter like a throbbing headache over the inside of my skull, forcing me to think less about the bigger picture of the past few days and more on the concise, less emotional, shocking details of my mates conversation...

I was... I was...

“When you say I am ‘one of you’...that is, if I am your kind now...”

Easy, Yvonne, you can do this, concentrate on the words, I coached myself silently. Put them in the right order and just...

“What am I? What are you?”

Close enough.

The effort to speaking with any seriousness felt like it had just taken a gigantic weight off my chest.

“Well now, that is a remarkable question we don’t answer often.” Nathan chuckled

“Yeah, since seven years ago more or less, ” Milo added, rolling his eyes and retracting his front teeth behind their human doubles, with a sound that brought vividly to mind a muk driving into a pool of gelatin. “But at least she was not so awfully noisy about it...”

Nathan seemed to sucessfully ignore that comment, and rubbed his head thoughtfully.

“I would guess, that your type before your hatching, the humans that is, would know our kind as the creatures commonly referred to as Vampir, or more presently, as vampires. Although other terms have been applied to our core physiolo..”

I felt various body parts I did not even know I had go numb with disbelief.

“Vampire? drinking.... vampire?”

An affirmative nod, a chuckle from the nearby goliath.

“ in..horror movie...undead..vampires?”

“I assure you, we are very much alive, and you were never before, nor will you ever be for a long time, a corpse. We do not even call ourselves by that name. It is solely a human term.”


“Yes. We are called Lineage. Your relatives by creation blood are your... our... “Family.” Your official title is that of Mother to this family, with all those ranking below you required to address you as such. ”

Milo made a face and grumbled. “I have no plans to ever be addressing her as such, Father, any more than I am ever undressing her, thank you.”

Maybe if I just grinned and nodded this would all be a dream...

“But there is more, and in order to live you must learn this well, Dear Heart...There are different types of Lineage.”

His eyes fixed upon me with the burning purpose that his speech seemed incapable of conveying alone.

“This may be the hardest to understand but it is essential. Milo here is of Charmander Lineage.”

In the mist of these words I saw the boy get to his feet and with a swift flex of his mighty biceps and the grind of straining fabric, large copper colored wings unfurled themselves from the outline of his body. The same wings from what I supposed was only a misty hallucination hours ago, now happened to be stretched out to their full-length before me, knocking over a couple chairs with their muscular wingspan.

Each wing by itself was a marvel to behold, like one half of an eccentric european-style dragon lovers self-made hang glider. But the flesh strung below the sinewy humerus and wing radius, and running down upon the thin nearly invisible two phalanx (that allowed for the wings flexible stability) was far too alive and pulsing with a bizarre mixture of tiny aquamarine colored scales, and porous lightly haired humanlike flesh, to ever be mistaken for an artificial construct.

Whatever he was, or what his people (my people?) called him, those wings could have not been merely grafted onto his body in any way I can think feasible with the considerable amount of knowledge I had obtained in my many Pokémon and human relation physical biology classes.

This couldn't be possible...

The idea of vampires existing alone was hard to grasp with a sane mind, but adding to the mix the mythical idea idea of...

Pokémon human crosses... were the stuff of fables written for toddlers... stories like...


I can still remember my great grandmother's heavily lined face looking down at me with a bemused expression over half moon spectacles.

I was four, wearing my favorite sunflower print dress, and looking down in turn on the picture book she held with all the questioning power of a tiny ruler of my own domain of fairy tales.

"Grandmére, why did the Abra man die?"

Her voice in reply was gravelly and weighted down with a history of living I would never come to know fully.

"Sweetheart, he died because he was a lazy and wouldn’t listen to the hard-working rattata-man when he told him a long winter was coming. He had no food left to eat and starved."

"But why? Why did he have to die? Why didn't Rattata-Man share his food with him?"

"You'll understand where you're older. The world isn't really that kind to the lazy or weak, Evie. No matter how much we think it is unfair..."

“And we.. both... are Zubat Lineage.”

Nathan’s hand grasped my own, and silently, like a puzzle snapping into place at a gradual, yet reassuring, rate I knew the nature of those luminous eyes.

Purple. The natural pigment of a poison pokémon venom before being exposed to the oxygen and carbon dioxide levels outside the body...

My mind attempted to reach for logic, grasping at what a little I could draw upon something, anything...

“But..aren’t those Charizard wings?...And if he is..made by you..shouldn’t he be a Zubat lin..e..age to?”

Milo groaned and lay back down on the bed, folding his wings, now outside of their confines of fabric, into the neat triangle shape of a kite at rest.

“Oh, how I hate hatchlings so early in the evening”

And so there it was, plain as the day light streaming through my open bedroom window.

I was a vampire, a vampire pokémorphic ish thing called a Lineage.

I raised my hand to watch the sunshine bounce off each curvature of my fingers and was greeted with no smoking, first-degree burns, or spontaneous combustion like those supernatural movies were so fond of. I checked my consciousness briefly: no urge to wear black clothing, no frightening change of taste toward listening to heavy metal music, no craving to put on three shades of non-matching dark makeup or sleep in a wooden box.

So far so good.I don’t even look very different from all I can tell, maybe...

That is when the smell finally hit me. It could not have been anything suddenly new in the last five minutes, maybe my troubles had been blocking it out on some unknown level.

Whatever the case, it happened to hit me just then with all the odorous force of a semi containing X-defend powder doing ninety on a slick winter road.

“Oh Nickel, what did you DO?”

Meowth urine has a very distinct smell. Some specialized normal type nurses often say that male Meowth have a tendency to spray furniture and carpet in cases when their owners have been absent for long periods, due to high stress levels. I'd never experienced it before now firsthand, and I had been absent for a very long time...

“Bad kitty, very bad kitty, I knew I should have gotten you fixed!”
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Old 06-25-2006, 06:12 AM
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Default Chapter 3:2

The chapter grew too big for one post
“I hear neutering saves lifes you know. The life of the cat who goes everywhere but outside and irritates their owner most of all.”

The smell turned out to be much worse than I had thought. After five minutes of vigorously scrubbing the carpet with a heavy-duty sponge soaked with white vinegar and my trusty pink rubber gloves, the many stains had won the battle.

It was funny; the strong ammonia scent of urine had never really gotten to me before in all my years of caring for Pokémon, yet after only a few minutes of being exposed to it now my head reeled and pounded with a headache, while the roof of my mouth felt as raw and dry as if I had the beginning of a sore throat.

But, anything was a better subject to focus on now than the ones swimming around imposingly in my mind about whatever future my newly acquired form might bring.

I knew my next door neighbor must have been feeding Nickel all this time via his Skitty shaped plastic flap mini doorway into the hall, but you would have never guessed for the way he tore into the salmon flavored cuisine...

I mused over the joyful feline face who seemed to be ingesting pokéchow faster than he could breathe between gulps.
At the ripe old age of ten years old, Nickel was only half grown in the meowth terms.

Back at the time I had gotten him as a birthday gift it was still popular for anyone who is anyone to get shiny metal coverings for their meowths’ head koban.

Gold plate was of course the medal of choice, but my parents were going through hard times back then and could only afford a second rate one made out of silvery polished nickel.

So, in my nine year old wisdom, that became his name.

I wonder why he's not running away from me or something? I would think I smelled different... then again, Meowth don't normally have much natural interaction with Zubat in the wild as the hunter or the hunted...Thank goodness for small DNA related favors.

I could see it all now if it had been any other way:

A half human, half zubat girl, was eaten alive yesterday by her own pet Pokémon from childhood. Investigators arrived at the scene late last night to discover the apartment empty and a satisfied smirk on the Meowths' lips as it sat batting at a lone remaining index finger...

A chill ran down my spine as I watched Nickel wash his face in contentment with a forepaw.

Hm, food. There was a subject worth concentrating on now. As if in acknowledgment my stomach growled. Of all the subjects Nathan had confided in me, how often I had to eat was not one of them.

Great, he tells you you’re now a member of a species unknown to human science and you don’t even have the common sense to ask about what is needed to keep yourself alive?

I couldn't really exist on blood... could I?
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Old 07-01-2006, 06:25 AM
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Default Chapter VI: A Forgetful Farewell, Shedding Of a Humanity

“You will be taken back to your home and given two days to get your affairs in order. After which you will return to me.”

“But why only two days? And what makes you so sure I will return?”

“Because in a few more days you will start to forget... and because there's nothing worse to our kind than being alone.”


The kitchen floor was a battleground of culinary death. A carton of milk laced the kitchen tiles with a film of dairy based groundcover, while the innards of a container of yogurt did war with the sad remains of leftover Chinese takeout noodles. Raw egg yolks made up a bright cheerful stretcher for a lone bedraggled lettuce leaf...

This whole grisly scene, that could have made even the most hardened of master chefs wail while holding aloft their sauté pans and praying to the gods of gas heated ovens, was woven together with nearly an hour's worth of vomit.

And me, sitting right smack dab in the middle of the mess, not caring as it soaked into the seat of my Lovedisc Your Way underwear.

Blood, only blood.

Nickel had given up licking my once tear stained cheek sometime ago, and deciding one good glassy eyed response deserved another, I guess, had gone to press the activation button for the TV.

Blood, only blood.

The thought was a chant something akin to a prayer of depression, that had been running through my head for so long now there was no room for anything else... not even the cheerful pokéchow commercial that Nickel was watching, waving his tail along with the beat.

I sat, propped up against the refrigerator door, my legs pulled up towards my stomach, my hands grasping tightly the styrofoam, plastic covered container that had resulted in the scarlet smears around my mouth. The situated hole in one corner of the package of ground beef had once been small, neat, but neatness had not suited the ugly, shocking truth that I thought had been a blessing hours ago:

I had no fangs.

Countless attempts at eating the old fashion way have convinced me I wasn't intended to swallow solids or dairy.

So, here it was now the true art form of eating:

A mouthful of bloody ground meat, pressed up against the roof of my mouth, some unknown organ contained there siphoning the blood to my stomach, and who knows where else; creating an overabundance of saliva mixed with meat that spilled from the corners of my lips like a gorey waterfall.

Blood ...only blood... salty... blood...

It was nowhere near the over romanticized sweet scarlet nectar that all those first-person narrated popular horror young adult novels I had read when I was fourteen or so often harped on about for ten pages.

It tasted no different than the time I sucked my finger after getting a particularly nasty Beedrill sting during rounds... only more beefy, of course.

But then, maybe my shiny new complementary blood sucking palate had not developed fully yet. Given my lack of fangs it would come as no surprise to me...

I probably could have sat there forever in my own filth if I hadn't remembered his voice

Two days... two days.

One day was nearly done.

Why me? Why me... why would he want a no fanged, didn't even know how to feed herself good-or-nothing?

Don't you want to know? Something inside me asked

No, I don't, I'm staying right here and breaking down into a schizophrenic sobbing mess that gets locked away in a mental institution, thank you.

But what if he had a good reason for picking you... what if there is more to this vampire thing?

What, a cape and a seaside castle in the Whirl Islands?

Maybe not... but I bet everyone thinks you can't do it, whatever 'it' is...

Can't do it?

A fire of anger felt as if it had rekindled somewhere near my digesting liquid lunch.

Yes, Yvonne can't do it. She's a lost cause.

With a shouted obscenity that made Nickel jump, his tail transformed into the texture of a bottle brush, I hopped to my feet, nearly slipping over again.

“I'll show them!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is a certain comforting monotony in knowing that you still have to go to the bathroom.

As I did my business and then went to go wash my hands I pondered at how much waste might in reality build up in a coffin if real-life vampires had a habit of reciting for hundreds of years in one.

If they had indeed, I mean if we had indeed been some sort of semi undead creatures, our bodies would have to have one heck of a recycling system within us for purifying an internal blood supply.

But if it was just being recycled over in other it really would be no reason to stock the living every night in an exciting way that sold-out at the box office would there?

If we had to drink so often because we lacked the ability to produce our own blood, as some stories suggested, that was a whole other can of worms.

A dried up mummified looking vampi..I mean, lineage, who had laid itself to rest more than a century ago came to mind, and I shivered slightly, glancing for the first time into the bathroom mirror.

A short startled scream escaped my lips as I looked upon my own face in the artificial light of my bathroom lamp, splashing a generous amount of water on to it and scrubbing briskly before then daring to look upward again:

The familiar stranger's oval, high cheekboned face was pale and wide-eyed, the blue of those eyes uncommonly dark compared to what I was used to, the whites bloodshot and tinted ever so lightly with pink.

A rat's nest of tangles now recited, bold as brass, between the looped sections of my mandatory nurses hairstyle, with what little that wasn’t entangled being frizzed beyond any stylish recognition. Worse than that, a good three inches of growth from my scalp now revealed my dull ever so common natural brunette hair color, shockingly out of place when put beside the baby powder pink I was so use to seeing it as for the last ten years.

Adding to this picture of blatant hygiene and health neglect, the freckles I was used to having sprinkled across my nose and cheeks by the beginning of summer were nowhere to be seen, a telltale sign of my three months of captivity with little sunlight, and to top it all off, my lips were horribly chapped, in that annoying way where a single central piece of flesh on the top lip just bagged to be peeled off with the front teeth.

“Do we have work to do...” I said with a sigh to the ever curious pokemon sitting next to my elbow.
Nickel, recognizing this sigh as being in an ‘I better make myself useful if I want to get a pork flavored poke-snack’ sort of tone, grabbed the two nearest small bottles off the medicine cabinet shelf, gripping them triumphantly in his jaws for me to take.

“Thank you Nickel.” I giggled with the half repressed grin.

As luck would have it neither bottle happened to be the one I wanted, but the little cat soon saw to remedy this, nearly emptying my whole body and hair care arsenal in his search mission of trial and error. Pokémon can’t read after all, but they are nothing if not persistent.

After deciding against the declaring war on the months worth of mildew and mold that might just as well have developed intelligent life in my shower by taking a sponge bath, I noted with a nearly morbid sense of curiosity that my body was not completely unchanged is I had once believed:

The blotchy patch of purple flesh was located matter-of-factly on top of my left breast, as if in its own silent way it had always been so fading off gradually to my normal skin pigment as it became further away from where I heart was located, the blood veins there mimicking the deep lilac ones in my neck 'wedding ring'.

My mouth feeling oddly dry again, I swallowed meekly, quickly beginning to get dressed in my favorite old hair dying outfit...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, after wrestling with the last remaining stubborn tangle and showing it the business end of a pair scissors to seal its fate, I prepared mentally for the last remaining step.

The details of the logo art on the bottle of the Nurse Joy’ s brand ‘In The Pink’ semipermanent hair dye had never looked so very clear to me before:

The Nurse Joys picture standing beside the 'n' of the trademarked company name drew my eye, she had been the very Joy that founded the first Pokémon nursing school some fifty years ago, so the story goes. Her body was a little too perfectly slim, smile wide, and white pinafore two shades brighter than I had ever been able to get mine in reality. I tried my best to look away from that image.... that perfect mocking smile... squeezing a fifty yen coin sized amount of the dye onto the palm of my hand.

In The Pink dye always looked like the translucent icing for a five-year-old little girls birthday cake, and smelled remarkably akin to a newly opened package of bubblegum, but its sugary first impression was deceptively non-toxic. I grinded my teeth, bravely awaiting the familiar sting of the chemical concoction against my scalp, sending an involuntary shudder down to my vaseline rimmed ears....

The rest of the evening was spent sorting through my belongings and deciding which to take upon my journey.
Since the times of knights in shining armor and the Pokémon that fought beneath them as virtual war machines, a Pokémon journey has been an intricate part of a normal child's growing up and a sign of increased independence.

So much so in fact that a whole corner of the most sophisticated of written literature is dedicated just to that subject and the most talented ,and not as much so, of artist have composed songs as well.

Five or so of the less than award-winning poems and songs that we were forced to research in school now tumbled around in my mind through an annoying case of loose association. The all-time worst of these melodies of course, was the one now playing inside my head, a bright and cheerful earworm rhyme that's meter had never made much sense to me:

If I should journey in the spring,
let my pokemon be Sunflora, the flower queen.
Leafy hands to shield me at night,
shredded cheek seeds to ease my hungers plight.
Extra petals of sunlight yellow,
to sell as short-lived garlands clean
Let my friend forever be the flower queen...

But this was no normal journey.
Nathan had made it all too clear that whatever was to come would be a lengthy excursion from which there was no coming back, at least not for ten years or so.

I glanced at the picture of Mom and Daddy on my night stand, they looked so happy and blissfully unknowing of what I was about to do that my stomach clenched into an uneasy knot of regret...

“Why ten years?” I asked naively, I felt my hands shaking as if they contained all my emotions ready to explode upward like the contents of a queasy Snorlax's stomach.

“Ten years is the minimum amount of time before a missing person is declared presumed dead, by which time they will be looking for a much older version of yourself not the young woman you will remain as you are today...”


My hands had resumed their former queasy trembling, feeling half numb as I carefully lifted the much too small articles of clothing out of the only traveling luggage container I had ever bothered to buy for myself:

The backpack from when I was eleven years old. Funny, how I hadn't bothered to unpack it all these years...that it had been moved with all the rest of my few belongings from the nurses primary boarding school dormitories to my own independent apartment when I turned seventeen.

Sitting for months upon months, collecting a layer of dust like some forgotten teddy bear that long recalled being held tight to keep the monsters of adult dissolution at bay, in a closet of half realized dreams...

Now here I was, a twenty old year old vampire with a head of freshly bubblegum dye infused curls, tumbling freely down to where I could nearly sit upon them, (as was the required length for Joy-dom) clutching that same neon yellow backpack covered in homemade Corsola and Staryu patches cut from my favorite childhood bedsheet, sealed on clumsily around their edges with brightly colored puff paint....

It spurred something long hidden away from my every day recollections, memories from that bygone age where I actually thought that running from my parents preset expectations of me would somehow make them prouder in the long run. That I would in some magical way miraculously evolve in the light of something far removed from the world of an everyday primary nursing school.

Such a short trip, but it seemed to make sense that the time...


“ You cut it up?” Her question was probing, with a distinct hint of I-know-better-than- to-do-that-ism.

She had been my best friend back then.

Funny, I can't even recall her name now. But her condescending tone in memory makes up for that.

"Yeah, I did. It's no big deal it was my sheet after all.."

I was walking along the dusty road in my new white sneakers, getting them blissfully dirty in the red soil that was the trademark of route twenty four, the faint padding of Nickel's kitten size feet mimicking my own path.

The girl beside me had a backpack too, much bigger than my own. Shiny leather with a sleeping bag attachment. New, custom-made, expensive. Even my memory of her smelled rich...

“Do you honestly think you can get away with this? You're half a year older than most starting trainers already. Just give it up, I would if I were you. Running away won't do any good..."

Then... that moment... that's when she stopped been my best friend, I remember now... the sting of too honest words...

"I'm not running away, I'm running to something, something important. I want to at least try, not become some silly nurse...."

And then there was the recollection of running, a bitter taste in the back of my throat, running in the opposite direction of my parents and that nameless girl who had always gotten everything she wanted upon a silver platter.
*Is 28 now*

My *Fanfics*Blog* Art

Last edited by Orange_Flaaffy; 10-09-2006 at 06:06 AM.
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Old 07-02-2006, 06:07 PM
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katiekitten Offline
Join Date: Jul 2005
Location: Av by RedEeveeMaster
Posts: 464
Default Re: Evolution Of Fable


That was a very good chapter, as is this new one... I is enjoyng it, yes I am. :D

Small typos:

I crained to my neck upwards to lock gazes
Craned, not crained. :)

a mouthful of bloody ground meat, pressed up against the roof of my mouth
The 'a' needs to be capital. :)

to feed herself good- for-nothing?
The extra space between the 'good' and 'for' is not needed. :)

XD I liked the latest part of the new chapter, with her cajoling herself into it. XD Very nice. =D

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

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Old 08-12-2006, 12:29 AM
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Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: California USA
Posts: 2,136
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Default Re: Evolution Of Fable

This is not bumping for bumpings sake alone, just a note to say I'm so sorry for keeping everyone waiting, and have to start working on this again. College sign ups are hard, I will be taking Spainsh and everything so if I get any good at it I hope it will creep into the fic :)
*Is 28 now*

My *Fanfics*Blog* Art
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