Prologue
"As people are walking all the time, in the same spot, a path appears." – John Locke
"My name is Locke Derry."
It was a crisp, clean morning. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Locke was sleeping, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening he would soon be getting.
"I don't have any interests. I wake up, I eat, I go to school, I sleep. That's about it. Except on the weekends. I don't go to school on the weekends. Obviously."
The door to Locke's room banged open. In flew a blonde blur, shouting at the top of his lungs. The noise echoed in the crannies of Locke's ceiling, tangling together to be ensnared by tenacious cobwebs. Locke sat up, blinking groggily at his animated friend.
"I really don't have anything else to say. Honestly, I find these introductions pointless. We all know each other anyway. Fine, how about this. My name is derived from the famous philosopher John Locke, who theorized that everyone is a blank slate, a tabula rasa, to become who they are through their experiences."
Locke stared at the only person his age he'd ever spent any extensive time with, Dash Sigurdarson. Dash's arms pin wheeled about in an impressive display of rotational athleticism, before coming to a halt with the boy's finger pointing at Locke's face. Then Dash did a heel face turn and went flying out of the room, gone just as quickly as he'd come.
"Not that I care. The whole nature versus nurture argument bores me. It's all meaningless in the end. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Do you?"
Slowly Locke flopped onto his bed. For a long moment he gazed up at his ceiling, contemplating the cobwebs with mingled interest and irritation. Then he sighed and rolled onto the floor, resting his cheek on the cool wooden surface.
Another day, he thought, closing his eyes and furrowing his brow. Another day.
Chapter One
"I'm going out, mother. Dash wants to meet with me for something." Dressed and cleaned up, Locke walked downstairs. His pale green eyes took in Joanna, who was huddled under a blanket in the living room, watching TV with a blank expression. He sighed and ran a finger through his short black hair before heading into the kitchen. Taking out the griddle Locke prepared to cook breakfast.
"I'm sure Dash won't mind waiting a couple minutes." There was no response. Locke pulled out the pancake mix, dumping it unceremoniously into a bowl and adding water. Several minutes later and they were finished. Locke stuck a pancake in his mouth and put the rest on a paper plate. Walking over to Joanna, Locke placed the food on her lap. She twitched but otherwise ignored him.
"Stay out of tall grass," Locke mumbled as he headed out the door. Dash's home was only a short walk away. As Locke stretched out a hand toward the knob he felt a glimmer of foreboding. The door swung inward and Locke saw brown eyes and a plethora of freckles, followed swiftly by stars. He staggered back with a grimace.
"Oi! Watch where you're going!" Dash scowled and shook his head.
"Sorry, I should've realized the need to use extreme caution when approaching your front door." Locke could feel a headache coming on. Dash, unaware of the subtleties of sarcasm, nodded energetically.
"Exactly! Constant vigorous! Now hurry up, it's a ten million dollar fine if you're – crap!" Dash spun around and sprinted back inside his house. After a second used to decide whether he needed to find aspirin or just suck up the pain, Locke decided on the latter option and followed Dash inside.
"Locke, dear, good to see you. Dash is upstairs. Arceus knows where he gets all that energy. Are you hungry? Have you had breakfast?" Mrs. Sigurdarson smiled at Locke, who couldn't resist smiling back.
"I had pancakes, but thanks for the offer anyway."
"Good, good. I always worry that you don't eat enough. You're far too thin for my taste." Mrs. Sigurdarson bustled about the entryway, straightening loose paraphernalia.
This coming from the woman with a twig for a son. Idly Locke noted the lack of cobwebs.
"I like your scarf by the way. It makes you look dashing." Mrs. Sigurdarson beamed and Locke bashfully ducked his head, touching the white scarf wound around his neck as if to reassure himself it was there.
"It would be rude not to wear such a thoughtful gift. Plus it's cold in Sinnoh," Locke added the last part without thinking. Then he frowned.
'Plus it's cold in Sinnoh?' Next I'll be saying people die when they are killed. Before Mrs. Sigurdarson could reply Dash came flying down the stairs, zipping past his mother and Locke.
"Come on! Let's hurry, Locke! It's a fifteen million dollar fine if you're late!" Locke blinked and then made eye contact with Mrs. Sigurdarson, who was clearly stifling a laugh.
"Do you know what he's going on about?"
"Not a clue." Shaking his head in amused exasperation, Locke headed back outside. It took a bit of investigating, but a friendly neighbor finally pointed Locke in the direction of Route 201. As Locke walked the gravel path to his destination, he saw a sign that read, Twinleaf Town: Fresh and Free! Underneath was an image of a wild Mankey smelling its armpits.
Locke made a face and moved on without comment.
He found Dash at the edge of town. The blonde looked like he was about to pee his pants, from the way he was dancing back and forth.
"Okay, what is it, Dash?" Locke asked.
"Finally! It only took you forever!"
"When I complete my mind reading project, you'll be the first to know."
"Ha. Very funny. Don't give me that crap, I told you this morning to meet me on Route 201!"
"There's this thing people do called sleeping. You should try it some time."
"Okay, wise guy – wait! Now I'm getting sidetracked. Did you watch the show on Professor Rowan?"
"No. TV is boring." From Dash's expression, Locke would've thought he'd insulted the Pokémon Champion. Then something occurred to Locke and he started. "Wait, did you watch something educational?"
"It happens, okay? Don't act so surprised. Anyway, they were talking about how Professor Rowan was returning to Sinnoh after four years. He's totally awesome and knows everything about Pokémon and stuff!" Dash began to hop up and down in his excitement.
"Does this have a point?" Locke gestured around them, sparing a brief glance at the stretch of tall grass behind him. Dash huffed.
"Of course! I would never make us do something for no reason."
"What about when you made us search Lake Verity for a Red Gyarados?"
"There's one there, I'm telling you. We just haven't looked hard enough. Anyway, Professor Rowan lives in Sandgem Town, which is the next town over. We can head over there and maybe he'll give us some crazy amazing Pokémon that have never been seen before!" Dash grinned excitedly at Locke.
I should've known it would be some harebrained scheme to try and get a Pokémon. Locke sighed and rubbed his temples.
"Firstly, as 'brilliant' as that sounds, there's a major flaw in your plan, since we can't cross the tall grass without putting ourselves in danger. And secondly, you know I don't care at all about having a Pokémon. They're far more effort than they're worth." Locke ticked off his points on his fingers, and then looked up to see Dash paying absolutely no attention.
"I've already thought up a master plan to avoid wild Pokémon. Basically we just scoot from one patch of grass to the next, really fast, and then we'll be in Sandgem in no time! What do you think?"
"Genius." Locke deadpanned. Dash beamed.
"Right? We'll go on the count of three!" Dash began to run in place. Locke folded his arms and watched, too curious to see how Dash's newest dumb idea would work out to attempt to stop it. Not that he could've stopped it, even if he wanted to. Dash was like a tsunami when he wanted something.
"Hold it right there!" Locke and Dash froze, turning around in such a manner that they appeared to be sheepish children caught in the middle of orchestrating a cookie heist. Striding toward them was a tall, dignified elderly man in a white lab coat. His hair was white as frost and gleamed in the bright sunlight.
"Professor Rowan," Dash said reverently, dropping to his knees. Locke resisted the urge to slap his face to his palm.
"Stand up," he told Dash. Professor Rowan reached them moments later. He had sharp, stern eyes and a fierce, no nonsense persona about him.
"What were you two irresponsible children thinking? You could've been hurt, walking into tall grass without Pokémon."
How did you know we didn't have Pokémon? Locke thought, raising an eyebrow.
"We're sorry, sir, we just wanted to meet you and maybe you'd give us some super special mega awesome Pokémon." Dash got to his feet, giving Professor Rowan his puppy dog eyes. Seemingly immune, the professor frowned and turned away, muttering to himself. Locke discretely edged farther away from Dash and the tall grass. Professor Rowan rubbed his chin, surveying the duo, and nodded.
"Do the both of you love Pokémon?" asked the professor suddenly.
That wasn't random at all. Locke shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't care – ow!" Locke yelped, hopping up and down on one foot. Dash flashed Locke a warning glance.
"Of course! You could ask a hundred times and our answer would remain the same. We think Pokémon are the coolest thing ever!" Dash said earnestly. Professor Rowan thought about this for a moment, frown still in place.
"Such recklessness would prove to be more harm than good in the long run… how could I ever entrust Pokémon to such irresponsible youth?" Professor Rowan glared at Dash. Wilting under the look, Dash dropped his head.
"I'm sorry, sir. In that case, you could at least give a Pokémon to my friend here. Locke didn't want to go in the grass anyway." Locke jerked around to stare at Dash, incredulous.
"Wait, what –?"
"How big of you." Professor Rowan's eyes lit up and his bushy white eyebrows drew together. "Very well. The two of you can – ah, Dawn. Perfect timing as usual." Behind the professor came a girl about Dash and Locke's age, lugging along a leather briefcase.
"You – forgot – this," Dawn puffed, setting the case down. Unfazed, Professor Rowan bent down and popped it open.
"Yes, yes. I'm going to give these two young men a Pokémon. I think they've earned it."
"What?" Dawn took a step back, her voice going up an octave. "Wait, wait, whaaaat? Are you serious?!" Professor Rowan responded in a low murmur and Dawn's eyes widened. Locke seized the moment to grab Dash's arm and haul him aside.
"Dash! What are you thinking?" Locke hissed. Dash whirled around to grin at Locke, his eyes shining with excitement.
"Isn't this just amazing, Locke? Our own Pokémon!"
"I don't have the time or energy to waste on looking after a Pokémon."
"Aw, c'mon. It could be fun. The power of friendship and all that. Besides, it's not like you do much of anything anyway, other than mope around and stuff."
"I could care less."
"Please, Locke. Do this for me, at least. You're my levered."
"Your what?"
"Levered. You know. So that the Professor feels like he needs to do this."
"You mean leverage?"
"Whatever. Please, Locke. Do this for me. Because you're my friend." Locke, unlike the professor, did not possess an immunity to puppy dog stares. He sighed, making sure it was as loud and drawn out as possible, and then nodded. Dash cheered quietly and punched Locke's shoulder.
"Best. Friend. Ever."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Ahem." They both looked at Professor Rowan, who had finished chatting with Dawn. "In this briefcase I have three very rare Pokémon. You're allowed to pick one."
"Cool!" Dash started to move toward the case and then stopped himself. "Actually, you can go first, Locke. Since I'm so mature and everything." Rolling his eyes, Locke sat down and stared at the three Pokéballs. They all looked the same, red and white and gleaming in the early morning sun.
Well, I suppose I may as well get this over with. Locke reached out and grabbed a Pokéball.
Rules:
Can only catch one Pokémon on each route.
Duplicate rule applies.
If a Pokémon faints it is considered dead and placed in the PC.
No healing items can be used.
Berries are an exception and only when held.
All Pokémon must have nicknames
No catching legendary Pokémon
Author's Note: Holy shit, am I actually posting something? This is craziness. Anyway, all the X and Y info made me want to play some Pokemanz, and I decided to Nuzlocke Platinum to keep me entertained. I've always wished I could do a comic, but I have zero drawing talent, so I figured it would be fun to write a story about my chronicles instead. Just so you're aware, this will probably be very dialogue heavy as I'm going to focus mainly on characterization, so this may not be the Pokémon fic for you if you want balls to the wall action or whatever. And with the lovely image in your head I'll take my leave.
~Shadowdragoon32