I have no idea why I'm starting another fic, but the damned plot bunny won't stop gnawing at my brain!
So, after trying to ignore the gnawing for a month, what a long… horrifying thirty days…, and replaying Emerald to the point of blindness(!!!!), I've decided to pretty much do a story about what would happen if I told the Hoenn story my way, hmmm?
Hoennshipping.
Hooray.
And for all you nasty little perverts who wanna see a lemon… too bad! It won't come until SO. MUCH. LONGER.
Shikamaru: No, I'm not saying anything. I-I don't care if the camera is on me.
Me: STOP BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL!
Disclaimer: Let me, lemme show you something. Camera turns to a room that looks like it was bombed by a mother load dropping. Does that look like I own Pokemon to you?!
P.S. Brendan is gonna look a tad bit different… And by a tad, I mean he is going into total bad-ass mode. Bitches.
Moving Truck, Somewhere closing in on Littleroot Town, 11:48 a.m.
A lone adolescent sat in a meditative stance in the middle of the storage compartment of a moving truck while various boxed objects are flying around, coming very close to smashing the teenager's head open.
His eyes were closed, not that you could see them anyways with his hair in the way, and he didn't even seem to take notice to anything within his peripheral.
The teenager's name was Brendan Ruby Maple. He was 14 years old and was moving from his old home in Goldenrod City to a new house in Littleroot Town because his father apparently got some 'Super Awesome New Job' as a Gym Leader for Petalburg City.
Though apart from what most teenagers look like when they're about to move; the look on Brendan's face when his mom told him the news, countered what most of people would expect: he was calm.
And the words that left his mouth seemed almost ethereal.
"Will I be going on my Pokemon journey there?"
And that was it. No 'But I'm going to miss my friends!' or, 'There're probably not going to be any hot girls in Hoenn!' Just… that.
That's how Brendan always is: a calm, laid-back guy. Maybe that's how he makes good friends… he's so approachable.
Brendan usually wore a white cotton hat that easily gave off the probability that he has white hair. But, as a promise to one of his friends back in Johto, Davey was his name, he left it with him. So the front-half of his unkempt hair was jet black that easily covered his eyes and seemed to end at the mid-section of his nose. The back-half of his hair, however, was a pure, freshly fallen snow white, that gently rested on his shoulders.
Brendan was wearing a black collared, sleeve-less cloak that went down to his heels with a maroon long-sleeved undershirt, black cargo pants, regular black fingerless gloves, and black combat boots with red pinstripes. Hoenn colors, or so he read.
The truck came to an abrupt halt sending him flying into the doors that barred exit from that hell called the trunk.
Two Machokes opened the door to see Brendan nearly unconscious. Curious, one poked him. But being a Machoke, and having rather low brain capacity, jabbed its finger into Brendan's side. Immediately, Brendan's eyes opened.
"Geez, talk wake up call…" Brendan uttered in a low voice, laced with Johto accent (A/N: Most people say Johto accent sounds somewhat Irish, but I wanna make it sound Swedish!).
Brendan's mom, being the little jubilant mother she is, bounced over, her white hair flying about, to Brendan who, at the time, was dusting himself off. "Hey, Brendan! Look at our new house! It's just so… homey!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down pointing at it. It wasn't anything special: two stories in the middle of scenic fucking nowhere.
"Homey? Unless you fail to notice, there are only three buildings in this town, including ours." Brendan commented.
His mom, Mrs. Maple, decided to ignore that comment and continued with her lovey dovey compliments on their new house. "And you even get your own room with a clock! That dad of yours…"
"Ooh. My own room, AND a clock. Life couldn't get any better now, could it?" Brendan stated sarcastically.
His mom, not catching on, exclaimed "Yes it could! We have neighbors who are apparently the Birches, you remember them? Professor Birch is the official Pokemon Professor and Trainer Starter of Hoenn and an old friend of your father's! And I hear they have a daughter…" she said, in attempts to embarrass to stolid teen…
"Oh joy. Someone to fuck. I'm going to unpack my room, don't wait up for me,"
… and failed miserably.
Brendan's Room, Littleroot Town, 1:24 p.m.
"There we go." Brendan said to himself as he finished unpacking everything that the Machokes hadn't already. Going over to the clock, he noticed that the time was off; it was still in Johto time.
Sighing, he spun the clock until it read 1:24p.m. Brendan then headed over to his computer to already find a message in his inbox. Curious, he clicked on it.
Hey Brendan!
I heard you're going on your Pokemon journey. Well take this [disclosed Potion]. You'll probably need it more than I do.
Good luck!
~Davey
Taking the potion out of the item dispenser, Brendan smirked. "Davey that idiot," he said to no one in particular, "he should know by now that I don't believe in luck (A/N: I don't either!)."
"Sweety! Your dad is on T.V.!" Mrs. Maple's voice rang from downstairs.
Brendan casually strode down the staircase to hear: "Thank you for that incredible performance Norman! Hopefully you can live up to your expectations! I'm Gabby and that's hot Pokemon Trainers for today!" from an overly enthusiastic media reporter that's either a woman or a man with a high-pitched voice. Brendan chose the former.
"Oh, pooh. You missed it," Mrs. Maple said.
"Well damn. Life ain't worth living now, is it?" Brendan said sarcastically.
His mother, probably because she is bi-polar or something, instantly brightened up and suggested, "Why don't you go talk to the neighbors? I'm sure it's better than lounging around like a crack head, am I right or am I right?"
Brendan looked at this woman in front of him with his left eye-twitching under his veil of hair. "I don't know you anymore…" he said and then walked out.
Mrs. Maple brought a hand to her mouth and looked down. "Was it something I said?"
Brendan, who has rather sensitive ears, fell down anime style. "I REALLY don't know that woman anymore…"
Walking a little… northish, Brendan encountered a small boy who was guarding the entrance to who knows where. Walking past the little boy, the kid immediately ran in front of Brendan shoved him away. "You cannot go unarmed, young trainer! Not without a Pokemon! BEWARE THE TALL GRASS!" the child bellowed.
Brendan sighed. "What's wrong with the grass?"
"What's wrong? WHAT'S WRONG?! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG! Wild Pokemon roam in the tall grass! THEY WILL KEELLLL YOU!!!"
"Why don't we just test that theory out, huh?"
"What does tha-AGGGGHHHHHH!!!" screamed the boy as he was kicked roughly into the tall grass he was freaking out about. The child thrashed about in the grass screaming for dear life, even though nothing was attacking him…
… at least for that long…
A Mightyena, in all it's grace, leapt out of it's hiding spot and sank its fangs into the boy's neck. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and the Mightyena drug his prize back to its lair to feast.
'Note to self: stay AWAY from the grass…' Brendan thought to himself as he trekked to the Birches house.
Birches' Household, Littleroot Town, 1:43p.m.
After knocking for the twentieth time on the house that looked almost totally identical to his own, Brendan's patience left him and he kicked the door off its hinges. Suddenly jazzed about kicking that door down, however, Brendan's current mission switched from 'saying hi to the neighbors,' to 'kick down another door that the neighbors owned.'
Kicking down the coat closet door, which didn't have a locking mechanism mind you, Brendan felt satisfaction fall upon him and continued on through the seemingly desolate house. Until he saw the barrel of a twelve-gauge shotgun in the hands of freaked out housewife, even though she showed more… anger, than fear.
"The fuck you thinking?!" she screeched.
"Arceus, woman. You might poke someone's eye out with that thing…" Brendan muttered swatting away the weapon's aim on him.
"More like mutilate someone's flesh!" the woman screeched and pointed the gun at Brendan's face again.
"Look, I'm Brendan Maple, your new neighbor. You didn't answer the door after the twentieth knock, I counted, I, in turn, demolished your door." Brendan explained.
"Oh! Then that's ok! And I'm Mrs. Birch, by the way." Mrs. Birch said, completely forgetting the predicament.
"I kinda figured…" Brendan said.
"Why don't you meet my daughter? She doesn't have many friends. Maybe you could help her out?" Mrs. Birch suggested, poking him in the side a little with her elbow.
"Eh. Got nothing better to do…" Brendan said stepping up the stairs.
Reaching the bedroom door, Brendan rapped his knuckles against the door and took a step back.
"Who is it?" a female voice called out.
"Brendan Maple. Your new neighbor." Brendan answered. (A/N: Listen, we all know he is calm now, so unless I say otherwise; all of Brendan's responses are going to be very… level-headed.)
"'Kay! Hang on a second!" the female voice said. And indeed, as one second passed, the door opened to show a girl about 13 years old, or so.
The girl had long auburn hair that went to the midriff of her back, a sleeve-less red zip-up vest, white arm warmers that covered most of her forearm, white gloves with black fingers, black biker shorts that stopped about four inches away from her knees, a small red miniskirt to cover up some of her shorts, black boots/heels (A/N: No idea what the name is. ^^') that went up most of her shin, and a red bandanna around her neck with a white pokeball on it.
The two things that caught Brendan was her beautiful sapphire eyes that even he could get lost in, if he liked her. Oh, and her bust. DAYUM. Definitely not small, but not unnaturally big (A/N: *cough*Tsunade*cough*). Probably a… D-cup? He wasn't sure. Brendan don't have X-ray vision!
"Hi, I'm May!" May said, offering a hand.
Brendan, coming back to his senses, took her hand and shook it. "And I'm Brendan, if you can recall."
May giggled. "I can." She then opened the door wider to let Brendan in. "Please, c'mon in!"
"Ah, thank you." Brendan said graciously and stepped in. Her room was a mirror image to his except for the plushies that May owned.
'Same house + Same room = Not surprised.' Brendan thought.
May sat on her bed and Brendan followed the suit. "Soooo, Brendan. Son of the new gym leader, eh?" May asked.
Brendan nodded. "I hate getting treated different, though. I want to be known for something else,"
"Do you want to get treated different?" May asked.
"Nope, I'm content with just being another tiny dot in the population of Hoenn. For now, at least."
"For now?"
"Soon, I'm going to get every badge from every gym and become the next Hoenn League Champion." Brendan proclaimed.
May let out a low whistle. "Big goal."
"What about you? Got your goal set out for your Pokemon Journey?"
May looked bewildered. "How do you know I'm going on my journey?"
"Uhh… the pokeball clipped to your fanny pack on your desk?" Brendan deadpanned.
"Oh. Well, I'm not the BEST at battling, but I really think entering in contests seems pretty cool. I always thought the gracefulness of a Pokemon being used in competition always seemed awesome. My dad, however, being the National Pokemon Professor and all, thinks I should 'make use of my Pokemon by entering them in battles.'"
"Well, so what?"
"What d'you mean?"
"It's your journey, you get to choose which path you take. If you wanna compete in contests it doesn't matter what other people think. It's your life; don't let other people live it." Brendan said with the "Above the Influence" insignia over his head.
May sweat dropped. "Err… thanks?"
"No problem." Brendan replied.
"Wait… oh crap! I have to help my dad out with the fieldwork!" May exclaimed. "I'll see you later Brendan!" And with that, May grabbed her fanny pack and darted out of the house.
"Huh. What an interesting girl, that May Birch…" Brendan murmured to himself.
Near the Exit of Littleroot Town to Route 101, 2:02p.m.
"HELP! OH DEAR ARCEUS SOMEONE SAVE ME!!!" a voice yelled out.
"Huh… I have the vaguest suspicion someone is in some sort of trouble…" Brendan muttered to himself. Heading towards the screech at an even pace, we find a middle aged man wearing a lab coat, a regular black T-shirt, faded green cargo shorts, and flip-flops running around in circles with his arms thrown up in the air, screaming for help.
"Eh, what's your problem?" Brendan questioned, his tone completely contradicting the epidemic that might be taking place...
"THIS POOCHEYANA WILL KEEEEEELLL ME!!!!!" the man screamed.
… or not.
The Poocheyana he was referring to happened to do nothing that made it seem threatening. It was just looking up at the sky, probably envious of it, or something like that.
"Um, no it isn't?" Brendan sweat dropped.
"LOOK! I THINK I DROPPED MY POUCH IN FEAR! THERE IS A POKEMON IN IT! SEND IT OUT AND BEAT THAT POOCHEYANA TO HELL!" the man yelled at the top of his lungs, still running around in circles.
Brendan looked down and sure enough, there was his pouch. Feeling around, the level headed teen felt a circular like object. Wrenching it out of the bag, and enlarging the ball, Brendan shouted, "Go….! Whoever you are…"
And a beam of white light shone out to reveal an oddly red colored Mudkip (A/N: I heard you liek Mudkips?). "Huh. That's interesting. ANYWAY! Mudkip! Tackle attack on Poocheyana!" Brendan shouted.
Mudkip instantly obeyed Brendan's call and jabbed its antenna…esque…thingy… into Poocheyana, who, at the time, was still staring at the bright blue skies. The attack connected and sent Poocheyana bulleting into a tree. And it crashed through that tree, so it hit another tree. Then it slumped down onto the ground with swirls in its eyes.
After hearing the resulted thud the man stopped running and grabbed his side. "Oh boy… that's enough exercise… for the year… Damn Poocheyana… and their damn fangs… AND THEIR DAMN… EVERYTHING!" he said between breaths. "Oh, you're still here?" he question Brendan.
"Eyeahhhhh…" Brendan said, scratching the back of his head.
"Oh, you're the new neighbor? Maple… Brendan Maple, right?" seeing Brendan's affirmative nod he continued, "Ah yes, son of Norman Maple. Good guy. Been friends with him for years… but I digress. I'm Professor Birch. Selected Trainer Starter of Hoenn. But this isn't the place to talk about that is it?" Professor Birch sent a head flick over to the tall grass signaling: 'Let's-get-the-hell-out-of-here-before-any-more-shit-turns-up.' "Let's head to my lab."
Professor Birch's Laboratory, Littleroot Town, 2:18p.m.
"Ah yes, much better. So, you're 14, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well you're starting a tad late for being a trainer, ain't ya? The age limit starts at 13, and my little girl May is about to start her Pokemon journey. I just hope she doesn't compete in those silly contests…"
"It's up to her, Professor."
"Well, anyways, I believe you are in need of some equipment, are you not? Well, take this Pokedex. It gives a record of all the Pokemon you've seen and gives information about them. I was saving it up for use in Pokemon research, but you probably need it more than I do. And, as thanks for saving me, here." Professor Birch handed Brendan a pokeball along with his Pokedex. "Inside that pokeball is Mudkip, the Pokemon you fought with earlier."
"Is there any reason why it's discolored?"
"Ah. That's just a rare condition. You're in luck."
"I do not believe in luck, Professor."
"Ahh… well how about you go see May? I last heard from her in Route 103 which is just past Odale Town. Try and bring her to her senses that the only way to go is becoming a Pokemon Trainer! Not some Pokemon Coordinator!" Professor Birch bellowed beating his right hand on his chest trying to make him seem more… what's the word… masculine.
"Not making any promises…" Brendan said icily and left the lab.
"Geez… he's even more colder than his father…" Professor Birch uttered until he noticed something on his computer screen.
"NOOOO!!! I FORGOT TO PAUSE MY SPIDER SOLITARE GAME!! NOW MY SCORE IS GONNA SUCK!! DAMMMMN ITTTTTT!!!"
Somewhere in Odale Town, Odale Town, 2:45p.m.
"And I thought the Pokemon here were pathetic! Obviously I was wrong about you, Kizer." Brendan said to his Mudkip that hung onto his shoulder, recently named… uh… Kizer.
"Kip!" Kizer agreed.
On their way to Odale, Brendan and Kizer chanced by a couple of Pokemon and since Kizer barely had anytime to stretch his legs… you follow my drift, don't ya?
And Brendan didn't want to keep Kizer in its pokeball. For now at least. He seemed to have a fun time riding on Brendan's shoulder, anyways.
Entering the town called Odale, Brendan and Kizer felt a nice, slow breeze come by, that gently wafted through Brendan's black and white hair, lifting it up a little bit. Walking up to a man wearing an apron and regular blue jeans that was standing outside of a building with a blue roof, Brendan asked where he can find Route 103.
Instead of getting a direct answer, the man replied, "Do you know what this building is?" Before Brendan could answer, the man spoke again. "It's a Pokemart. You can buy all sorts of necessities like Pokeballs and Potions. But we do NOT sell information that concerns life as we know it." the man said coldly.
"Well that's great, but this information doesn't concern life as we know it." Brendan responded.
"If I give you a Potion, will you leave me alone?"
"Deal."
Taking the potion, Brendan walked past a red-roofed building which he could remember seeing a similar one in Johto. 'Must be a PokeCenter…' he thought. "Hey Kizer, you tired?" Brendan asked his mudfish companion.
Kizer tilted his head and Brendan heard "Mud-(fine)-kip."
Brendan's head turned on a swivel. "What'd you say?"
"(I'm fine?)" Mudkip said again.
"You can talk?"
"(You can understand me?)"
"Yeah."
"(… That's iffy…)"
"Probably a continuity error…"
"(Yeah, must be. Like that time Ash and Misty almost fell off a bridge then the scene changes and then it shows they're fine?)"
"Yeah, I was pretty pissed at that. I don't get enough continuity errors…"
Heading over to some guy in a regular button down shirt and black slacks, Brendan tried to get directions again, and hopefully this time they won't suck.
"It's north, dipshit. Now leave me alone so I can find the rare Pokemon!" the guy shouted. Brendan turned on his heel and left the dork to his "studies."
"Kizer, I don't think people in Hoenn are friendly for some reason or another… do they all PMS? Even the guys?" Brendan asked his companion.
"(How should I know? I just left my Pokeball and I'm ready for some action! Who are we going to see, anyway?)" Kizer asked.
"We're going to see May Birch. Lovely lass from what I could tell from talking with her for only five minutes…" Brendan answered, leaving Odale and jumping over a small ledge.
"(Are we gonna fight?)" Kizer asked eagerly, rivaling a child who is about to get the hottest new toy.
Brendan chuckled. "We'll see, Kizer. We'll see…"
Walking a little bit farther, Brendan spotted May, bent over examining some Wurmple, or… some other Pokemon…
"Hey May, your dad told me I could find you here."
The Pokemon May was examining, a Wurmple, jumped up out of there and May sighed. Regaining her posture, she walked over to Brendan and gave a friendly smile. "Hey Brendan, nice to see you. Why would he tell you that?"
"He said I need to beat some sense into you about battling Pokemon." Brendan recalled, laughing a bit.
May giggled as well. "Are you gonna actually do it, though?"
"Nah, but I could use a battle, and so could you. After all, you still have to battle in contests…" Brendan trailed off.
"Yeah, that's true. Let's both do our best, 'kay?"
"Sure. Let's go, Kizer!" Brendan called out, and his companion jumped off his shoulder and into the battle ring.
May looked at Kizer with a dull expression. "Another stereotypical Brendan: Mudkip starter Pokemon… Well, I'm not at all like the other Mays! Come on out, Kita!" May said, unclipping her pokeball from her waist pouch and throwing it out into the battle ring.
A light shone and then it dulled down to take the form of…
A Chikorita.
'Fuck me up the asshole…' Brendan thought bitterly.
I feel so dick-like to myself because now I have three stories to work on… Well, technically two because Naruto still ain't doing that good so I won't update Basilisk.
And yes, Pokemon community, this story will have a shit-load of cursing.
Why?
Because where I'm from, fourteen year olds smoke pot and get wasted on a weekly basis. And it has the highest death rate in the whole fucking world. Too big of a hint? Well suck my balls.
Cookie for whoever guesses where I live, correctly!
Ja Ne!
~Jharoz