Title: Heir Apparently
Author: Shadow/Phantomness
Pairing: Championshipping (Lance x Ash/Red)
Fandom: Pokémon
Theme: #88, VR

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Warnings: Crossover with – or based on Vivian Vande Veldefs novel, eHeir Apparentf, may contain elements of its plot and story and even a few stolen lines. SHONEN-AI, PSEUDO-INCEST, MIND CONTROL and other elements of fantasy may appear.

 

            Red stood in front of the Gaming Immersion booth, hesitating as he flickered over the game titles. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked at the title with interest.

            Heir Apparent was a fantasy-based setting for ages fourteen to sixteen, and the plot looked fascinating. He tapped on the information button, and watched as pictures scrolled across. He saw a barbarian horde stampeding a castle, a man tossing black powder over himself and becoming an eagle, a princess in light pink swooning off a balcony, and a dragon breathing flame straight out of the screen.

            The voice-over explained that the Trainer would have one month to become Heir to the Throne of the Houen region.

            It looked rather interesting, so he stood up and walked over to the receptionist.

            gYes?h She asked.

            gIfd like to play Heir Apparent.h

            She nodded, pulling a data disc from the stack behind the counter. gMay I have your wrist unit please?h

            He slid it across, bright red. She smiled at the design.

            gYou like Pocket Monsters too?h

            Red nodded. Pocket monsters spanned fourteen or fifteen different games, each with a different plot and setting. However, each person did have one single monster – one Partner – that would accompany him or her through all games of the related genre. His was a medium-sized one, a Poliwhirl, a water type that knew a few ice-type and fighting-type moves.

            Pocket Monsters was a wonderful game because it was made for all ages, from the youngest children to much older folks – even some adults played it. There were levels of difficulty in every game, set to age, and that was useful.

            gDoes Heir Apparent have an element of Pocket Monsters in it?h

            gSome,h The receptionist answered vaguely. gYoufll have your Partner of course, and everything else you encounter will be random, but it is possible, if you work hard enough, to capture all of them. However, that is not the main aim of the game.h

            gI have to try and become King, right?h Red asked.

            gMmhmm.h The receptionist adjusted her spectacles. gBe warned though. The Pocket Monsters games you have already completed and Pocket Monsters you have captured or encountered in the past may influence this game as well. You know how therefs a little bleed-over every time.h

            gYes.h Red nodded.

            gGood luck then. Now remember, with the amount you paid, you have ten tries to complete the game – and if you still have not broken through the first Level after an hour, youfll receive an extra two tries.h

            gI know.h Red nodded.

            Each fifteen minutes in the real world corresponded to one week in game time. Since he had only paid for an hour, it made sense.

            He had a month to become King.

 

            gOne more thing,h Lorelei said. gYou can die in this game, but you wonft feel any pain. And there is no right path to take, unlike the Fire and Leaf or the Gold Silver Crystal series.h

            gSo itfs a little bit like choose your own adventure?h Red hedged.

            gA little.h Lorelei smiled. gHave fun, Red!h

            gI will!h

 

            He inserted the data disk in his epokédexf, settled himself down on a Total Immersion couch, and felt the world fade away.

           

            When he awoke, he found himself lying on a grassy hill. For a moment, he felt disoriented, but then his mind cleared. Yes. He was playing a game. The knowledge from previous Pocket Monster games filled his mind, and he paused to check his waist.

            There were two Poke balls there. One contained Poliwhirl. The second contained something he was not immediately familiar with. His pokédex wrist unit had been cleverly disguised as a rough hemp bracelet, but it hummed with a faint whine.

            Interestingc technology was not a big thing in this world. Indeed, with a second look, he concluded that the poke balls he wore were not metal or plastic, but made out of apricorn fruits. They were both enormalf enough to pass by unnoticed.

            So he was not in the high-technology world he remembered from playing Fire and Gold version, or the sands of Orre in Colosseum.

            Fascinating.

            Well, what was his other pocket monster? He sighed, and abbreviated the word to pokémon in his mind, but the pokédex screen refused to show. It looked like he would not have the aid of that useful object in this world.

            He brushed grass off his clothing, wrinkling his nose at the smell of sheep dung. He sighed. He was dressed in rough unbleached cotton wool trousers and a shirt, and leather boots that were comfortable at least.

 

            An Arcanine ran up the hill, barking. He recognized it as Dusty, his old sheepdog. Yes, in this world, he was not Red Nakamura, Pokémon Master, but just plain Red. He lived with his father and mother in a small village, and herded Mareep. Why, if one of those furry creatures wandered over here, he could milk it, shear it, cure it of ringworm with an infusion of ringwort, castrate it, or help it in case of a breech birth. Not all on the same animal of course!

            He patted Dusty on the head and headed down the hill, waving his cap to announce his arrival as he heard his mother calling for him.

            His mother, a browned woman, short and squat, in a plain white apron over a blue homespun gown, was talking to a tall man dressed in black velvet. He had golden hair curled tightly to his head, a beard oiled in a tight goatee, and a bunch of frothy lace at his throat. He held a perfumed handkerchief to his nose and kept sniffing at it.

            Red felt irritated.

            gMother, who is this man?h

            His game mother – Lily – sniffled, and sighed. gSir Sidney has come to take you away.h

            gTake me away? Why canft I stay here with my family?h

            Sir Sidney coughed. gOur Gracious King, King Steven, May Lugia bless his soul, passed away, and on his deathbed, named you his Heir, and these people you live with are not your true family. Your mother was a servant girl the King seduced, who died in childbirth. Come now.h

            This was obviously a man who took pleasure in delivering bad news, as evidenced by the sneering air he portrayed.

            Red hesitated, as his Mother threw her hands up. gOh, what will your father say?h She wailed.

            His father?

            Ah yes, his foster Father was a peat cutter who worked in the bog nearby. Red squared his shoulders and bravely climbed on the second horse the man had brought. After all, he was eager to get the game started. gIfm sorry, but I must go, mother. Ifll send for you when I am King.h

            They rode off towards the palace.

 

            Moments later, he was introduced to his three older half-brothers, who were all more legitimate heirs to the throne. There was Lance, who was the youngest, a dashing young man in silver armor with bright red hair and golden eyes. There was Bruno, the second eldest, who was wearing little more than a ripped pair of red silk pants, with muscles the size of Atlas, classically handsome with a chiseled nose and masses of curly black hair. Then there was the eldest, Drake, who wore dark blue sailorfs clothing trimmed with elaborate golden braid.

            The queen, Lady Phoebe, extended her hand imperiously. Red kissed it awkwardly, not sure what else to do. Her face wrinkled in disgust.

            He bristled slightly, but tried to keep his temper.

 

            gLetfs kill her.h Bruno grunted, pulling a mace the size of a Hoppip out.

            Red bristled. Her?

            Lance paused. gIt wonft work. Too many people saw her come into the castle.h

            The Queen sniffed daintily, wrinkling her nose, and exited. The three princes rose to follow. Red sighed, and caught Lancefs arm.

            Lance frowned at him.

            He was startled, as Lance pulled him into a kiss, but the next moment, felt pain radiate through his body. Lance dropped him, and Red caught sight of a dagger with a black hilt sticking out of his ribs. Then his world dissolved in a series of bubbles.

            He woke up on the hill, with Dusty licking his face. He groaned.

            It looked like his first life had been a spectacular failure.

           

End Chapter
Completed 7/30/06

Heavily edited 8/17/06

This would make a good series! Ifll have to remember it! But of course, the book is wonderfulc

No romance, sorry! But there was a kiss!

c I have no logical explanation on why everyone thought Red was a girl, unless either A.), the stimulation only works for girls or B.), he looks really girly. The second seems more plausible.

 

(And now that Ifm done with 101_Themes, I can work on continuing this fic! YATTA!)