I just don't know if I can do that, one man at the negotiating table fidgeted nervously.I mean, we steal pokemon. We aren't lackeys for some terrorist.
The other man laughed. His smile was dripping with abhorable qualities, and his grin seemed too wide for a human as small as he. His hair was yellow and wispy as it merely crowned his head, and his eyes glistened with daggers as he tried to create an offer Giovanni couldn't refuse.
Giovanni sat a little straighter, we're in a business, and we don't get hired out to people.
Could you do what I asked? the other man grinned even more widely, his hair seeming to twitch as he came closer to clinching the deal.
Y-yes, we can, but what will you use them for? Giovanni was begining to waver.
That will not be your concern, the other man assured.
How can I do something for you without knowing what we're really getting into? Giovanni snorted.
The other man reached for the floor at this point in time, grabbing a briefcase and flopping it down onto the table. Giovanni began to sweat a little as the other man began undoing the clasps, and he wrung his hands inconspicuously under the table.
There's twenty-six million dollars in it for you, the briefcase wielding man announced. He turned to one of Giovanni's bodyguards, a nothing Team Rocket member. Here--go ahead. Count it while we close the deal.
Giovanni was breathless. What do you need our services for if you have this much money to throw around?
The man cockily flicked a wisp of his thinning hair. Because your services will lead to a profit increase you can't even imagine.
Giovanni's hands began to shake as he thought about where that money could get him. He thought about how easy earning it would be. The only problem is, he'd be selling innocent blood for that money.
~Sanguine Dreams~
Prologue- The Tide at Twilight
A flood of sparkling stars which had ambushed the sky hours earlier were slowly dissipating into the flush of the imminent dawn, and a chorus of birds rose to their choirs in the quickly drying branches of the trees, singing a multitude of different songs, each which seemed to compliment the other, though that wasn't their definite intention. The underbrush cracked and snapped gently beneath the large shoes of Brock Harrison as he made his way to the edge of the water by the campsite. He kneeled in the brown-tipped grass which swayed in a nippy breeze and dipped his hands into the water. The sound of water sundering at his hands seemed clamorous amongst the silence and random chirping. He breathed deeply through his nose as he brought the water to his face and splashed it on. It was very cold, but refreshing, especially as he ran his fingers through his hair and let the wind chill it further. The night was a rough one, and Brock always relished in the solitude of dawn before settling down to his problems.
Brock sat for a moment with his eyes closed and his hands stretched into the air, as he worked out the kinks of stress that had taken hold of him. He finally put his arms down, and was ready to settle down to making breakfast.
What to make today, he pondered aloud as he sifted through his backpack, various utensils clanking around and disturbing the general peace. He finally settled on something, then cleared an area for a fire. He was very apt at making himself quite busy, and the sun began to rise into the air enough to rub out the chilly pinkness and jolt the sky with a plane of light blue.
The scent of food sifted into a squat, army-green tent asituated a few feet away from a tree too tall to climb. The flap of the tent made a swatting sound as it slapped against the other side as a hand let go of the opening. The underbrush crinkled once again as smaller feet delicately trampled upon it, and Misty Waterflower raised her arms into the air stretching as well, then stretched from side to side before continuing walking. She saw the back of Brock's head.
Hey Misty, Brock yawned, never turning around.
Misty quietly responded. She walked over to the pan over the fire and looked at its contents.
I can't wait for it to be done, she sighed, clutching her stomach. I'm starving!
Brock smiled. It'll be done soon! His look suddenly sobered, and his gaze turned to the tent. How is Ash right now?
Misty smiled weakly as she began. He's better, she nodded. Some food ought to do him good. Geez, I've never been so scared in my life.
Brock tilted his head in agreement. Why are you awake so early? You were up all night.
I know it, Misty said exaggeratedly as she herself walked to the river to cleanse her face. But--I can't sleep very well. I probably got a good two hours. I was just watching him to make sure he was breathing for the longest time.
Brock shook his head. When did you have time for the two hours?
Misty chortled a little. When you told me to get to sleep or you'd kill me.
Brock scratched the back of his head as he recalled what he'd said. I didn't think you'd listen.
Yeah, well, Misty looked to the sky, I was pretty dead.
Brock looked at Misty for a moment, noticing the puffy dark circles under her eyes. She shivered as the breeze stirred up once again in a momentary gust, snapping a few of the colored leaves off their twigs.
Tell me when it's done, Misty whispered, then walked back over to the tent.
Sure will, Brock smiled, then ambled over to check on his cooking.
Misty stumbled into the tent. Her head felt stuffed with cotton because she was so tired, and her eyes felt like they'd been swabbed with q-tips. The inside of the tent was dark, and the empty sleeping bag which was messily strewn about the floor called her name and pulled her aura towards it. She began to shake eagerly as she kneeled down on it. But she couldn't accept its invitation quite yet.
Misty crawled over to the still boy lying in the corner, lightly wrapped in his sleeping bag. He was scathed by burn marks, and he twitched lightly as she placed a hand on his forehead.
she whispered, and grabbed a bag from next to her sleeping bag. She pulled out a deep red berry from it, and gently pressed it to the Ash Ketchum's nearly-sleeping lips. He parted them gently and ate the berry, swallowing very deliberately. His expression became more flaccid after it was digested, and he stretched his neck a little as the pain which coursed along his skin was slightly alleviated.
Misty patted his hand and looked at his closed yet fluttering eyes, then shook her head.
Why did they want you, she bit her lip. I just--I don't understand.
Misty put Ash's hand to her cheek, then felt his cheek with her hand. His skin was cooling as the berry treatment was working, and she gently put his hand back down. Ash's eyes meandered open, and he didn't say anything for a moment as Misty sat over him.
she whispered. Are you awake?
Ash muttered, still recoiling from the sensation of unbearable heat that crawled all over his skin. He felt singed and squirmed against it, but it tore at the burns on his back as he did so.
Why did this happen? Misty questioned. Do you have any idea?
Ash mumbled. Is Charizard okay?
Misty nodded. Trust me, we gave that stupid lizard the royal treatment.
Ash closed his eyes once again contentedly. Misty sighed and looked to the roof, then crawled into the sleeping bag. The world whirled around her as she closed her eyes, and her ears rang victoriously as sleep washed over her like the tide at twilight.
-------------------@
****Author's stuff: Well, this is short. I've never done a prologue before. I already have this story all planned out. I don't know if it will be good. Honestly, I'm really geared to write it, I love my own idea, but I dunno if it's too out there. Stick around for Part I to find out what happened to Ash, and what Giovanni's little mission is. And more stuff that isn't alluded to in this. This isn't going to be one of my little Brock fics, though trust me, brock *will* be a big part of it. What should his last name be? I heard Harrison somewhere, and Slate is too Flinstones. It'll have team rocket and the whole shabang, so hold on to your seats!****