Hello, hello!
First fanfic!
(I bet you're expecting something in the lines of " Please don't
flame because I'm a n00b *blinkblink", ha?)
After stumbling
upon a few (give or take ;_;) very bad poke fics, mostly
Mary Sue ones, I decided to contribute a *drrrumroll* A ATTEMPT AT A NON MARY SUE POKE FIC! Please do not be
offended by a certain bad habit of Hera's*points to fanfic
below*, I though it suited her image o_O and made her stand out a
bit more from other made-up new pokemon trainers.
Beware the try at
making a pokemon
fic
not a pokemon
fic
(if that makes any sense what-so-ever)
----------------
If Hera
would by any chance be asked how she felt at that moment, she wouldn't reply.
She remembered very well how she felt. She felt proud of herself. And that
moment of self esteem cost her all the pride she had left.
It was early
morning when Hera and Ichigo woke up. As they weren’t
from the same household, and one would presume that they had no idea what time
the other was awake or not. But the boring and monotonous life in Littleroot
town forced the two to synchronize their biological clocks. With nothing to do
except entertain each other, every minute of being bored together was, sadly
enough, precious.
Hera got up. She got
up very slowly. She wasn’t tired, she just wanted to have something to do for
as long as possible. Littleroot wasn’t a very dynamic
place.
Ichigo got up but much
more quickly. She was excited about finishing her drawing. She started getting
dressed.
Hera started dressing too. Hera
was 15, two years older than Ichigo, but she didn't
look a day older than her. It bothered her. Actually, most people thought Ichigo was
older. Each morning she carefully picked clothes to make her look older. She
picked a black and white striped sleeve-less shirt and a pair of black jeans.
She looked at herself for a moment. She cut and dyed her hair what seemed not
so long ago. Now it was shoulder-lenght and dark
brown again. She still didn't look fifteen. She pulled out black eyeliner and
put it on. She scanned herself in the mirror again and than ran off before she
could notice she looked no older, with or without the makeup.
Ichigo was now already dressed. She was
wearing a bubblegum pink skirt and an intense purple shirt. She liked all
colors in all combinations and there weren't really any other people that cared enough to tell her it looked
ugly so she didn't care either. She was done looking at the mirror. Her mirror
was hung quite high on the wall, and with her being short, it was exhausting
for her to look at herself for ages. She tied her long curly hair in a low
ponytail. Her hair was the same color as her eyes - the color of honey, and a very light shade of honey too. Ichigo defiantly adored her eyes.
Hera's breakfast was once again an apple.
She always ate an apple for breakfast. Actually, she ate THAT same apple every
morning for breakfast, more or less. It was a plastic apple that was made to
look as if a bite was already taken. Hera didn't
really like eating in the morning so she didn't, it was that simple. But her
mother is an annoying person to deal with, so she didn't do that.
There was a bowl of fruit on the table. The
apple was always on top, the "bitten" side hidden by other fruit. Hera already mastered taking out the apple, holding it and
even "biting" it so it looked like she was really doing it. She knew
her mother had the attention span of a small rodent. Her mother looked at her
take the first bite, continued her work and within a minute forgot that her
daughter was even there. So Hera would take the bite,
return the apple to its usual place, count to a 100
and than leave.
Ichigo didn't eat breakfast either. She
didn't like eating in the morning, but that can be traced back to her Hera-adoration phase She was now
in search of her sketchbook,
pencils and eraser. They were always missing. She found them after a few
minutes and started walking toward the door.
They both stepped
out of the house. With a fake smile and without words the two set out into the
forest. They liked it there. It was calming despite the liveliness of the
forest, and without a single soul in sight except themselves.
The two sat down
in the grass. Ichigo pulled out her sketchbook and pencil and
continued drawing her masterpiece. Hera pulled out her cigarettes
and continued her bad habit of drawing smoke into her lungs.
It wasn't long
before a sound of footsteps came to their attention, squelching the dew dappled
grass. Hera
was very excited. It wasn't very often that trainers came through Littleroot’s
poor excuse of a forest to find pokemon. Unlike Ichigo,
Hera
longed for more company. She liked meeting new people but he wasn't what
she expected as his shadow finally loomed over them.
"You
smoke?" The boy that casually remarked upon the obvious was hardly any
older than Hera.
He was dressed as a Team Aqua grunt. Ichigo seemed to squirm
anxiously but Hera didn't bother judging a book by its cover.
She nodded.
"It's bad
for you," He took her cigarette and twisted it out beneath his boot. Hera
watched impassively, it wasn’t really a habit but a way to pass time in a place
where every day stretched forever. What surprised Hera was
that he then without any sign of shame took one of Hera’s
cigarettes and lit it, dragging in and then exhaling a ring of blue grey smoke.
"It really
is. Marma."
"...I don't
understand. Mama
what?" Hera said. A short silence
ensued before Hera quietly whispered what she thought. "Hypocrite."
"Marma's
my name," he said cheerfully and without anything more said, he sat down
leaning against the trunk.
"Can we
join?" Ichigo chirped at Marma,
ignoring Hera’s
wide eyed look of surprise. She was very excited at the thought of becoming a pokemon
trainer. Both Hera’s and Ichigo’s parents had forbidden
them to become trainers for some reasons unfamiliar to them. Bad guy trainer
and thief, good guy trainer and possible Master - it didn't matter to Ichigo.
The keyword 'trainer' still remained.
"Join?"
Marma
said finally, flashing a look at Ichigo and then took one of Hera's
cigarettes and put it into her gaping mouth.
"Team
Aqua," Ichigo said and nodded. "Teeeaaam Aquuuaa."
Ichigo
articulated slowly as if she spoke to a child. She thought Marma looked
a bit dense. It was unusual for a guy to have long hair and his was dark brown,
long enough to be tied in that high ponytail that he had.
"Oh-keeeey,"
Marma
repeated the manner of speaking. "Aiiii gueees yooou caaaaaaaan. Aaaaan."
He was starting to go out of breath. He grinned at her over the cigarette.
He was running
before and he was defiantly not used to that.
Mense sano in corpore sano.
Healthy spirit in healthy body.
Marma had neither. He was far
from fat,
or chubby, he had a good body but he didn't nearly exercise as much as needed
to live a life of a Team Aqua grunt. So, he panted. One day, that will wear
off.
Ichigo flashed Hera a look
that said nothing deeper than something along the lines of 'Yay!' Hera
smiled back with as big a smile as she could manage. But the smile was meant
for Marma.
For Ichigo,
he was a ticket for a dream come true, for Hera, he was
a hormone rush. And a rush of blood to the cheeks. Not because he
was so smooth, he wasn't as much of a charmer to make a girl fall one her knees
after five words. He was simply a bit good looking boy and the first she had
seen in a while.
----------------
;_; This was the intro. I'm
sorry that it turned out to sound like a mushy love story. It really isn't
*crickets chirp*.
Ahem. Pleaaazzz
R&R,k?????!!!!!!!!11!one
and all that jazz. Love, hate and spam go to meguzzi@net.hr
and legal lawsuits for stealing the concept of Pokemon,
hopefully, to someone else. *time for begging...uhm, time*
Feedback would be nice. It would help me understand what way the readers want
the story to go. And that, my friend, is useful. Really.*I-am-a-foreigner time* English
is not my mother tongue and Word is not my friend. Forgive for the grammatical
errors. And forgive forthe insanity. It comes with
being from the Balkan *nod*
THANK YOU for
reading my Random Rant(tm). Enjoy your stay.