I welcome all reviews, criticism, feedback, spelling/grammar mistakes.. Basically everything :p I hope you guys enjoy, more is coming soon.
-Notes.
.This story is based more in the anime world, than the games, there are some exceptions however.
.This isnt about the champion Lance, I don't want anyone to get mixed up there probably will be something later on in the story about the two sharing the same name however,
Prologue: End of term.
The classroom was abuzz with activity, the air thick with a cloud of excitement. Lance danced his way around chatting pupils, squeezing through a group of girls. He gave them his best attempt at a rakish grin as he passed, which earned him a chorus of giggles. He made his way through the crowd spotting his friend Luke sat at the back of the classroom, he dashed over, sitting in the neighbouring chair and joining him. "So," Lance ventured. "How was detention?"
Luke grinned, his emerald eyes sparkling mischievously. "Same old man. Honestly, the last day of term and they've got me writing lines."
"Well, one more lesson and we're free."
"I don't think we'll ever be free, can't you feel the walls closing in?"
"I can feel the teachers closing in, you reckon they'll let us out this place alive?" asked Lance.
"Not when you see what I've got planned," replied Luke, his grin broadening.
Lance let out a mock groan, "You kidding?"
"No, no." said Luke with a laugh "My pi ce de r sistance, a lasting tribute to me."
"Piece of what?"
"Pi ce, it's French Lancey. Just trust me on this one, alright?"
"Well OK, but It's you they'll be scraping off the floor in little pi ces."
Luke groaned.
"As we know, each and every Pok mon has their own set of unique abilities, move-sets, and traits individual to type and species," lectured Professor Harold. He was a barrel chested man of about 40, and despite a rough appearance was possessed of a sharp mind and keen wit . The man seemed to be covered in hair, from hugely thick burly arms. To a shoulder length tangle of jet-black hair, an appearance that had resulted in Lance giving him the nickname "Tangrowth." Something which earned him two week's detention upon the Professor's finding out.
"Hey," whispered Luke, turning to towards Lance at the back of the class. "You ready?"
"Huh?" Lance replied, "Wh-"
The Professor pointedly cleared his throat, fixing the duo with a stern gaze. They both shuffled on their seats, sitting up and assuming a position of keen interest. "As I was saying. While Pok mon of the same species might look the same, it is important to know that each one is an individual. If there is one thing I could have you all remember upon departing today, it is that each and every Pok mon is capable of greatness. It is up to the trainer to harness that potential."
"Ok," Luke whispered under his breath. "Three, two, one." He suddenly turned to Lance, raising his voice to a near shout. "Ow! Quit it," he yelled, winking to his friend.
"Enough!" Roared the professor, he slammed a meaty fist on his desk. It was at that moment that it burst open in an explosion of papers and ink. A Zubat flew out in a frenzy of excitement, darting around the room amongst screaming pupils. It ducked and dived while the pupils covered their heads with books, some braver ones attempting to shoo it in the direction of an open window at the back. All amidst shouts of "Don't anger it," and "Get out the way!" The commotion continued for about a minute until the Pok mon finally found it's way towards the window, leaving the classroom a scene of chaos. Pages of books littered the floor, and four of the student's desks had somehow toppled over. Professor Harold shakily got to his feet, striding to the back of the classroom where Lance and Luke were rolling around the floor in fits of uncontrollable laughter. He was trembling with fury, his face as red as a beetroot. "You two! Out. Now!" He growled.
The two boys waited outside the Headmaster's office. They were perched nervously on a wooden bench sat outside. Both filled with a mixture of glee at the prank, and nervousness at what the headmaster would say.
"You know," said Lance, turning to his friend. "I gotta give it to you on that one man, A+"
Luke smiled sheepishly, "I'm still trying to figure out how Professor Harold knew it was us."
"I think us laughing while everyone else shrieked in fear gave it kind of gave it away."
"Yeah I guess," replied Luke, anxiously running a hand through his thick blonde hair. "Professor Harold seemed really mad."
Lance couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, I suppose getting dive-bombed by a Zubat doesn't put you in the best humor."
Luke shuddered, "You don't know what I had to go through to get that thing."
"I'm not sure I want to."
The door to the headmasters office suddenly swung open, Professor Harold strolled out shooting the boys a look of poorly masked fury as he passed. The headmaster followed closely behind. Mr Jenkins was a tall, slender figure, almost the opposite of Professor Harold. Clean shaven, and with short, neatly combed hair. He had a tough exterior, stern and strict sometimes to the point of appearing cold. But it masked a great kindness, a kindness that both Lance and Luke had tested on several occasions . "Boys," he said. "You better come inside." He held the door upon while they both walked in, not even daring to glance at each other.
The headmaster was an impeccably tidy and organised man, something which his office reflected. Papers lay on his desk in a neat stack, his coat tidily draped across the back of his chair. Sunlight spilled through several windows at the back, nicely lighting up the room. "Sir" Luke asked suddenly before the Professor had even reached his chair. "Can I explain?"
"No," replied the Professor abruptly.
"I.. I don't understand," he replied.
"There is nothing to explain," began the Professor, taking a seat behind his desk. "So therefore you shall listen. Ten years ago you would have not attended this school. You would have been instantly deemed fit to receive a Pok mon and begin your journey. The law has changed however, and you are now required to attend school for three years before you receive your starter Pok mon."
"Sir?" Lance asked, glancing at his friend who mirrored his puzzlement. "I don't understand what you're getting at."
"This is the last day of these three years, so therefore upon the end of this day we can neither house nor teach you no longer. You have to make your own decisions, choices, mistakes."
"You mean," said Luke excitedly. " mean that we're free to go now?"
"Of course, since today is the final day of term, once lesson time is over nobody can keep you from leaving." The teacher replied. The two boys rose to their feet, neither daring to believe their luck. "However," he cut in. "Before you depart, their is one last thing."
"Yes sir?" Lance asked.
"What time do classes finish?" Asked the headmaster, his face expressionless.
Lance cocked an eyebrow at surprise at the unusual question, but replied anyway. "Well 5PM usually, but 3PM today seen as it's the last day o-"
"5PM," the headmaster cut in. "So you shall leave at 5PM."
"But sir," protested Luke. "There's no more classes."
Mr Jenkins smiled, the first the boys could ever remember seeing from him. "Oh no, but I do have a classroom which could do with one heck of a cleaning."