*Flashback to a few nights ago as I was having stomach problems due to Mononucleosis*
"Hhhhhm…but if I make him do some kind of merge with Dialga, then I wonder if he'll become part Dragon type or part Steel type…? I guess I'd need to find out what type humans are. I'm gonna say they're Normal. Aww, that makes everything complicated…
Eh, you know, I'm just gonna wing it. Let's give him, like, steel bones or something. And a dental arrangement might be in order."
(Stomach problems make me kind of villainous. I mean, if you can't handle the pain on your own, might as well get your characters involved, am I right?) (…please tell me that's not just me.)
*BACK TO THE FUT—I MEAN THE PRESENT*
So basically, this was a spin-off/prequel of a book I have in the plotting stages. This one takes place about fifteen years before the other; it details events of a few minor characters that may or may not end up showing up in that other book in the first place. I'm not even sure if I'm gonna post this before or after that original book, but if you find a fic called Terra Ruby with my name as the author, then it's been posted afterwards. If not?
*Pats story on the back* Good for you, Time Diamond, you got finished first! Probably because you're about five times less complicated. Also, because I'm in a Sinnoh-y mood since I restarted that Pokémon Diamond game. As a male character. Even though I'm clearly not a guy. OH WELL *shrugs helplessly*.
DISCLAIMER: Reevee21 does not own Pokémon or anything affiliated with it, including (but not limited to) the Hoen region, the 700 plus Pokémon in existence, the theory of a Pokémon Trainer, or Dialga. She only owns this plot in itself and the characters made for it. (For that matter, she also does not own things that are referenced here, things she sings/states at certain instances, any major businesses that may make cameos in this, or Dialga.)
SECOND DISCLAIMER: Reevee21 does not own Dialga.
Time Diamond
a Pokémon fanfiction by Reevee21
Chapter 1
Rock crashed into steel with a loud, metallic bang before grinding into it fiercely. The steel didn't budge and resisted just as hard, eventually pushing back with a Take Down.
The rock—namely, a rock-hard head armed with four backwards-facing spikes and a pair of violent, red eyes—stumbled back a bit. It shook its head from dizziness before snarling and pawing at the ground with one of its clawed feet.
The steel monster braced itself and called out in a metallic tone, warning about there being much more where that came from. Its small, stubby feet pawed at the ground with the same kind of resistance that it showed when the rock creature had rammed it. "Shiiiieldon," it hissed warningly.
"Crani!" the other called.
The ground was already dusty and torn, and it was getting even more scuffed up from the pair's fight; scratches and indents littered it. A mountain loomed in the background on the steel type's side while another practically overshadowed the fight from the left, both watching silently from their positions. The fiery evening sky burned on the horizon. The area was completely clear besides the two, manno-on-manno, a prehistoric fight discontinued only by time.
(A town a short distance away and a few trainers standing on the sidelines nearly ruined the effect, but it's the thought that counts.)
The rock creature charged the steel monster again, but went in at a curve that aimed at the steel monster's softer body instead of its face.
But it saw this coming and, moments before the rock creature hit it, flipped itself on its back legs.
The result was another ear-ringing bang that echoed through the mountain range, catching several new watchers' attentions while maintaining those that had heard them earlier.
"Cran-i!" the rock creature snorted, frustrated.
The dust it blew got into the steel monster's eyes, making it squint them shut. "Shiiiiield…!" it muttered to itself.
The rock creature's mouth perked into a smirk. It shoved upwards on the steel monster's shield as it was distracted, grinding with an even more irritating sound, before pulling away. It leapt, spring boarding off the shield face of the steel monster, and instantly plummeted down head-first at the steel monster's more sensitive back.
CRANIADOS used HEADBUTT! A critical hit!
The steel monster moaned in a pain cry before collapsing, making it an inch shorter than it already was. The rock creature flipped itself back onto its feet, shook itself, and let out a victory call.
"Shieieieeeellld…" the other responded, dazed.
The edge of its face was caressed by a trainer's hand, which ran over the new scratches with dismay. "That might take a few days to heal…" a solemn voice muttered.
The Cranidos turned to face the trainer, who in turn looked up at him from behind a pair of thin glasses. He looked to be fourteen, though it was hard to tell from his skinny frame; he could very well be twelve or eleven. His eyes were dark and focused, his skin pale with hints of having freckles, and his dark blue hair was tied back into a short ponytail that barely touched his shoulders. He wore a blue, V-necked sweater with a gold-colored polo shirt underneath and a pair of dark gray pants; his dark yellow backpack had a few book novels poking out.
He rose an eyebrow in the Cranidos's direction. "Nice attack, Clark. Very strategic of you. Heat of the moment?"
The Cranidos growled a response under his breath as he approached, victory glory crushed.
The trainer fished out a small, metal ball divided evenly into two parts—one red, the other white—and pressed a button on it to the Shieldon; near-instantly, the Shieldon dissolved into an infrared light that retracted into the ball.
He rose, giving the Cranidos ("Clark") a scratch on the reinforced skull before heading towards the town. "Come on," he encouraged, getting Clark to follow him. "We can't leave Lewis hanging."
The town was a lot like something being dug up from below; the roads and much of the ground were rock and soil, but buildings jutted up from them in all their metal-and-glass glory. Some of them, half-finished, waited patiently at the edge of town while others had people streaming in and out in choppy, disconnected streams.
It got thick enough at one point that the trainer had to return Clark to his Poke ball; he was already pushing it with all these open targets prime for head-butting moving around, he didn't need someone to get snagged on Clark's horns or claws, too.
Eventually, he came to a large, white building with small windows spanning its tall two stories. The door was underneath a circular, domed entrance that was only one story high, only a short way away from a stone sign reading "Oreburg Mining Museum: Coal Mining and You." It was at the very corner of town, closest to the mountain that parted Sinnoh in two, and didn't have half as many people around it as the other, smaller buildings.
He entered and found the inside to be just as uncrowded. A hallway lead him straight to a desk where a pair of accountants looked busy at their computers, but it opened up at the right to a display area. A large rectangle of coal had been put on an equally huge stand and had several people gawking at it. Minerals were posed in cases, boxed with glass and propped on metal stands—everything from diamonds to dust (samples). A potted plant sat strategically in each corner, accomplishing their lifelong goals of sitting there and not wilting.
The boy strode past the large coal display and stopped at the desk. "Is Dr. Meridan here?" he asked the attendants.
One of them looked up, recognized the boy through a sheen on his glasses, and answered, "Yep. In his office. You know; second floor, on the right, then 'straight on 'till morning'."
"What?"
The attendant smiled a bit. "An inside joke. You know, 'second star to the right', Peter Pan and all that. You haven't heard it yet?"
"No. I guess I should hang around more often," the boy muttered.
"Oh-h-h, please no," the attendant laughed lightly. "We've already got one who won't grow up, we don't need another nerd hanging around here twenty-four seven."
"We're all nerds," the boy huffed.
"Sad but true. Nice talking to you, Dante."
"Same here," he remarked, heading in the direction of the staircase.
A long time ago, someone had taped a note reading "one small step for man, one huge leap for mankind" on the staircase's right wall (probably sometime during the past thirty-one years). No one ever really had the heart to take it off. The lab may have specialized in digging under the earth instead of launching humans above it, but it meant the same thing: progress. And that was what everyone strived for. Including his father, no matter how crazy he went with fossils.
Dante reached the door of the "labs and offices" floor, second to the right, and opened it with a quiet click. Tables lined the room, and they in turn were lined with scopes and samples of every sort—plus the occasional stack of note-coated paper. Filing cabinets filled the spaces between the windows and personal desks were against the right and left walls; only one of them was occupied, by a man with dark blue hair cut short and rough.
He looked up from a report paper of some kind that he had been writing, breaking into a smile even at Dante's stony face. "Hey, Dante."
"Hi. So, I got that recording of the fight you wanted," he stated casually, walking over and handing the man a video recorder.
He took it and opened the screen on the side, hitting play and watching the first few seconds of the fight from earlier. "That's great," he said. "Lewis and Clark took each other alright?"
"Battle-wise, sure. Clark won in the end."
"Don't spoil it for me!" the man scolded, sliding a fake glare towards Dante before glancing back to the video. He frowned at the sight of Clark's ending stunt.
"Something wrong?" Dante perked, leaning in to see.
"No, that actually signifies a lot; Clark's adrenaline and processing skills came out fine based on this," he muttered. "But I'm a bit disappointed that Lewis didn't have much of a reaction at the jump…"
"Lewis doesn't have much of a reaction to much, really," Dante shrugged. "It's just his character. Frankly, I'm surprised Clark could think of a move like that, him being so bullheaded."
"Is he?"
"That's what I've seen. Maybe you just need to get out of here more," Dante suggested.
The man—Dr. Meridan—stood up and stretched, answering, "I can't do that. As long as those miners keep finding fossils in their coal, I'll be stuck up here all day, trying to turn them into something alive."
"You could always hire an assistant or something."
"I have you for that."
"…true."
The doctor chuckled lightly. His life could be documented in his finds; he met Dante's mother upon her surfacing the only full Aerodactyle skeleton in Sinnoh and married her around the same time he formed a briefly-alive Clamperl out of one of their ancient ancestors (its underdeveloped-yet-lovely pink pearl went into her wedding ring). He created Sacage, the first living Aerodactyl on record, shortly after the pair moved from the outskirts and into the town or Oreburgh; and his son shared his birthday month with the experimental pair of Lewis and Clark.
If his record of having important dates interlope with science discoveries meant anything, then something was bound to happen on the day his fossil-reviving services were made open to the public. Speaking of which…
"So, when are you going to start doing revivals?" Dante asked.
Dr. Meridan finished scratching down the battle results on the report before answering, "I'm not quite sure yet. The museum is still iffy about funding it, I'm not sure if trainers even find fossils that often, and if they do come piling in, I could make a mistake and wind up not giving a Kabutops it left eye or something."
"Yikes."
"Yea," he sighed, leaning back and letting his bangs drift out of his tiered, hazel eyes, "it might never get out of the plotting stages, but it never hurts to dream."
Dante glanced down and shuffled his foot awkwardly. Dr. Meridan kept reminiscing. Lewis was asleep in his Poke ball and Clark was staring off into space in his. The room was completely silent, only interrupted by a motor's hum or two from other rooms.
"…hey, I was wondering if I could head into Hearthome tomorrow," Dante mentioned.
"Oh?"
"I have to return some books. And get new ones," he added quietly.
Dr. Meridan nodded in understanding, gathering up the papers and putting away some calculating equipment in preparation to leave. "That would be fine. Just take the Pokémon with you."
"Lewis? Or Clark?" Dante questioned, following him out the door. "Or Sacage?"
"Your mother would probably say 'all of them'. I mean, it's Mount Coronet, after all," the professor chuckled. "Mountain of Legends and all that. It's the year 2000, and humankind is still so superstitious…"
Mmmm mmm, plot build-up! I know I say this at the end of just about every chapter, and I know that only half of those chapters ever amount to anything good, but imma say it anyway: "This is going to turn out really well, isn't it?"
Pokémon We Met Today:
Lewis
Lv. 30
Male
Sturdy ability
Clark
Lv. 31
Male
Rock Head ability
Humans We Met Today:
Dante
Fourteen
Unofficial Pokémon Trainer
Dr. Meridan
Thirty-Eight
Pokémon Researcher (Archeology)
And a random Clerk male that will probably show up maybe one other time. Let's call him Bob!
Please follow and/or favorite, leave a review on your way out, check back here for more chapters, and HUG AN EEVEE, EVERYBODY! BYEEEEE!